#they opened the door with the same expression and that's what matters

[blythedolly]

let me hear you.

—♡ you’re a famous popstar and leon kennedy is your beloved bodyguard. between the public eye and having to keep your relationship private for your safety, leons professionalism is once again tested.

—♡ warnings: bodyguard!leon, jealous/possessive, men being gross, oral sex (reader receiving), unprotected p in v, choking, size difference, pet names.

leon never used to be the possessive type until you landed in his grasp. even though he knew nobody could ever steal you from him, it was a quiet fear of his. the thing is, to the public eye, leon was nothing but your bodyguard. your protector. although, most people were afraid of him based on his physique. standing at 6ft tall with arm muscles the size of the average human head tends to scare off weak insecure men, he would constantly have to witness these men lusting over you. his girl, and it made him seethe. It was hard to continually remind himself that this was part of his job, and you were a famous popstar. obviously, you're going to get a lot of attention, and he was ashamed to admit that it still bothered him. 

like today. he overheard two men talking about you, he didn't recognize them. which was quite rare, considering most of the time these award show afterparties were full of other extremely popular musicians. but no matter who was in that room, and how famous they were, you always stole their attention and lustful gazes. 

“just look at her, god. the things i’d love to do to her…” the man says to his friend, shaking his head in what appeared to be disbelief as he watched you speak to one of your friends. 

“i know, did you see her new music video? leaves very little to the imagination for sure” the other man chuckled. before the two could say anything else, you finally spotted leon standing behind the two and a delicate smile graced your face. the boys then turned around, finally noticing leon standing there. they went pale in the face as you approached. knowing that he’d definitely heard every word they said based off the angry look leon was giving them. he could truly be terrifying when he wanted to. you’d seen that side of him many times, but never aimed at you of course. leon was a powerful man, able to get rid of them with a simple snap of his finger. you stood next to him, not realizing his displeased expression until you’d tilted your neck up to look into his eyes. he was still staring at them.

“leon, is everything ok?” you asked, tone worried as you followed his gaze and set your eyes on the two men you hadn’t even noticed before. he didn’t respond, his large hand wrapped around your arm as he led you away from the area. not questioning a single thing as it was crystal clear something was bothering him a significant amount. once the two of you had made it back to your hotel room, you turned to look at him as he closed the door.

“are you mad because they were looking at me? because you know i’d never even think to-” you began to explain.

“i know you wouldn’t.” leon interrupted, and your gaze softened.

“then what’s wrong?” you ask once again, approaching him slowly, looking into his eyes. he eventually met your eyes after a moment. “what were they saying?”

“nothing that you need to worry about, doll.” he reassured, resting his forehead against yours. never would you have imagined leon could be so soft.

“alright,” you say, a soft smile reappearing on your face. “i’m just gonna freshen up a little, ok?” you add, pressing a kiss to his lips before approaching the bathroom. leon sat down on the couch, hands rubbing his face as he tried to forget about what he’d heard earlier in the night. which was almost impossible, considering he heard those exact voices outside of the door. the familiar anger began to rise once again as he got up from the couch and passed towards the door, opening it quickly and immediately spotting the same smug faces he was mentally murdering moments ago.

they both gulped, eyes wide as they stood in front of the front door a meter from yours. they quickly entered the room to avoid confrontation. leon stood there for a moment, wondering what the fuck they were doing in the room next to yours. before he could do anything else, your voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“was someone at the door?” you ask, he turned his head to face you. looking at you adorned in one of his large shirts. quietly admiring the way your body drowned in it.

“two boys just went into the room next door. I assumed they’d reserved this floor for… other famous people i guess.”

“the ones that you were giving the death stare to earlier?” you ask, a cheeky smile on your face. “baby, they are famous.” you chuckle as you stared at your boyfriend. he shook his head, trying to hide his displeasure to the information he’d just heard.

“well, excuse me for not being up to date with pop culture, i dedicate all of my time to protecting you”

he says, you loved when he’d get sassy like this. their words from earlier kept repeating in his head as he approaches you, placing his large hands on your waist, kissing your lips delicately. “they don’t look like the famous type,” he says as he places his mouth to your neck, the feeling of his lips tickling your skin in the most delicious way. you whined softly. and that’s when he got the idea. the idea that would show those stupid guys who you belong to. who really gets to fuck you.

he smirked against you, lips abusing your skin and his hot tongue trailing over your sensitive spots. his hands found your ass, squeezing your cheeks sadistically which caused a sudden gasp to escape your throat. normally, leon would place his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet when you weren't at home, just in case people were around. the hotel was unreasonably fancy, but the walls still seemed paper thin, but this time he didn’t. you didn’t question it. you never questioned him.

“that’s it, let me hear your pretty sounds,” he says as he lifts you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the pristine king-sized bed. 

he dropped you onto the mattress and hovered his frame over yours. his lips found yours once again, and you whined as his tongue slipped between yours. he’s all too familiar with how vocal you can be. even with his hand over your mouth or your head buried into the pillow, he can hear you crystal clear. he knew anyone nearby would be able to hear if he didn’t hush you, and that’s exactly what he wanted. for those stupid little pricks to hear how good he makes you feel. over and over.

his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing the soft skin. you whined louder this time. you were so goddamn submissive under his touch, it drove him crazy.

he raised his stolen t-shirt up your body, exposing your torso as he lowered his head. trailing kisses all over your soft skin. you were addicted to the feeling of his stubble against you, he’d barely done anything and you were already a whimpering mess. his head trailed lower and lower. licking the skin above your panty line as he hooks his fingers into the edges of the fabric. effortlessly peeling them down your legs and throwing them off to the side.

he began peppering kisses to your inner thighs, feeling his hot breath against your dripping cunt was driving you wild.

“leon…” you whimpered loudly, legs trembling in suspense of the act that he was about to do. you were expecting him to respond. something like “be patient” or “good girls know how to wait” but he didn’t, he latched his lips onto your clit, causing your back to arch off the bed. your hand flew to your mouth, biting down on the side to muffle your moans. but leon stopped.

“no, baby girl. let me hear you,” you nodded your head, staring down at him between your legs. noticing the glistening shine of your wetness on his chin under the dull lighting of the room.

“good girl,” he said before diving back in. aggressively eating you out as he’s done many times before. your moans were quick to fill the room. your hands flew down to grasp at his blonde hair. you spread your legs wider, giving him as much access to you as possible. to say he was addicted to your sweet essence was an understatement. the way you shivered with every delicate swipe of his tongue against your sensitive crevices. his tongue studying each and every one, torturously slow, with enough force to send you into oblivion.

“l-leon, i’m about to… i can feel it-” you whine breathlessly as your orgasm approaches. hitting you fast before you could continue your stuttered sentence. loud whiny moans filling the room as you rode out your high.

he didn’t halt until your legs began twitching, licking up all of the cum you provided for him in exchange for an orgasm. he climbed back up your body slowly, leaving sloppy kisses up your stomach along the way.

he was proud of himself knowing how good he could make you feel with little to no effort. enamored by the way your body reacted to his touches. he know the boys would’ve heard everything he’d just done, but of course, he wasn’t satisfied just yet. his hand wrapped it’s way back around your throat once his face aligned with yours, his chin damp with your cum.

“all wet,” you said, smiling as your hand raised to his face. tracing along the wet area of his face. “wanna make somethin else wet too,” you added, moving the same hand between your bodies and palming his hardened cock over his pants.

“where did you ever learn to be such a dirty girl?” he grunted, a slight smile on his face as he moved your hand and pinned it beside your head.

“we both know the answer to that,” you bit your lip as his hand tightened around your wrist, looking up at him through squinted eyes. he moved back to remove his shirt, and you bit your lip as he did so. you followed his steps and removed your own. clothes thrown carelessly to the floor.

he unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants and underwear down, not bothering to completely remove the articles of clothing. he was getting impatient. he hovered over you once again, his large hands separating your thighs as far as they could go and lined himself up with your dripping entrance. he wasted no time, thrusting forward and impaling you with his cock with no warning. you screamed, hands flying to grasp his shoulders as he quickly set a brutal pace. your back arched off the mattress, pressing firmly against leons as he pounded into you. legs wrapping tightly around his muscular body.

“oh, f-fuck. leon!” you moaned, the head of the bed clunking against the wall with each of his intense thrusts. he grunts into your ear sadistically, fingers leaving crescent shapes on your thigh as they dig into your skin.

“wanna feel you cumming around me, baby. think you can do that for me?” he asks, you nodded your head. tears dripping down your cheeks as the pleasure because too much for your body to cope with. it didn’t take long for another orgasm to pulse through your body, legs trembling around leons torso as you chant his name. before you could process anything else, he’d flipped you onto your stomach. shoving his cock deep inside you once more as he held your hips to him. despite being extremely sensitive from your previous orgasms, you still craved more of him. your loud moans echoed off the walls as he took you from behind. clenching your walls around him to coax his orgasm out of him. craving the feeling of his cum flooding into you. 

you felt another orgasm approach as his thrusts became sloppy, indicating that he was also moments away from finishing.

“leon!” you moan, clutching the bedsheets below as the two of you came together. leon eventually stopped once your highs had subsided. he tiredly flipped you onto your back once more, tracing his rough fingers along your damp cheek.

“mm… leon… y’think anyone heard us?” you ask, voice breathy as your tired body rests comfortably beneath him.

“hard for em not to,” he replies, tracing his finger along your bottom lip before placing a soft kiss there.

and it was safe to say they’d definitely heard based on the looks they were giving the two of you the following morning. leon smirked proudly, hand resting on your waist as the two of you walked past them. and even if they'd somehow not heard leon fucking your brains out, your obvious limp would easily give it away.

[shirefantasies]

LoTR Characters’ Favorite Sleeping Position

Aragorn

He was used to sleeping in harsh conditions. Alone. Until you came along. At first he kept to his side, remained on his back practically unmoving- until, once again, he felt you arms wrap around him. You peered at him, uncertain for just a moment until you saw the smile creeping across his face. From that day on it has become a ritual: Aragorn laying upon his back, one arm extended. An open door for you to enter the warmth and safety of his simple embrace.

Legolas

For a prince, Legolas struggles not to fall asleep. Despite this, he has his comforts— don't we all? You are his now, no cushion or blanket or old doll of memory holding the same warmth, breathing and beating with life and the love that claimed the woodland prince's heart. He used to sleep on his back, ready to sense any danger, but your presence relaxes him. All he needs to face now is you.

Boromir

Escape is impossible! Boromir's arms, warm and full of the strength and vitality of an avid soldier, wind around you and clutch you tight to his chest. He shall feel you, nuzzle into you in fact, his short beard tickling your neck and his breath warming any exposed skin it brushes. His lips pressing into the hollows they find before sleep takes you both, holding you nearly as fast as Boromir embraces you...

Gimli

A mess. An absolutely wonderful mess. Wants to hold you, protect you, practically envelope you, but also moves around quite a bit in his sleep. Begins with you against his chest, firmly in his arms and feeling his heartbeat against your back. If you were to wake in the middle of the night, though? You might find Gimli splayed out completely, limbs involuntarily thrown over yours or tangled in a heap with you. Truly one with you whether he means to be or not.

Frodo

He'd never shared a bed before you—that much was obvious on his expression, hesitant over welcoming, the first time you made to slide in. As it was you'd let him in first, unaware what a ritual this would become. In went Frodo, who you would cradle against your chest, far beyond a substitute for any of the pillows he formerly nestled against, your heartbeat soothing him and your arms entangling him in the best way possible. Keeping him safe.

Sam

"Keeps things exciting if you switch it up, you know." Words Sam lived by. It depended on the night how you two fell asleep, crashed atop each other in pure exhaustion one night and practically an alternation of who cuddled who upon others. If you were to ask him his favorite, though? Samwise Gamgee lived and died by the nights you lie by his side, one arm and one leg around him good and tight!

Merry

Adores the feeling of you on top of him. Or vice versa! The sensuality and yet relaxation of draping oneself over the other, perhaps straddling them… Not to mention the way he can hold you about the waist or stroke your hips as you hold onto him, grip relaxing as you drift off together, his hands rubbing circles over you as his eyes flutter shut, ready to awake in a wonderful pile in the morning.

Pippin

Snuggles tight to you no matter which way you face, but if you ask him the best way to sleep is facing you. Facing you or more precisely tucked against you, head nestled in the crook of your neck and tickling you lightly with his soft curls. Or else resting over your heartbeat, smiling if your hands wrap around him and hold him even tighter as he clings for dear life, love evident even on his sleeping face.

Faramir

The last thing Faramir wants to do is smother you. He fears entrapping you, suffocating you even if it is to be with warmth. Rather he lets you settle in first, be it upon your back, your stomach, your side, and takes his place beside you, one arm reaching for you. Perhaps you clutch his hand to your chest or snuggle beneath the singular hold, but whatever it might be, the singular point of connection is all Faramir needs to know you are both happy.

Eomer

Has never shared a bed before and has not the foggiest how to begin. Lays adjacent to you without touching at all at first until you either pout or tease him. But a ways down the line? That is but a distant, comical memory. Eomer now sleeps atop you or with you clung tightly to his chest, your lifeline on darker nights and his prized jewel to claim and protect on joyous ones or those which rouse his spirit especially in your favor.

Eowyn

Never did Eowyn fall asleep in a mess of heavy things. Far did she prefer simply lying on her back and side, pillows if any beneath her. With you, though, she has an anchor, even if she doesn't seem to show it at first. Even if your bed has borders, clear sides for one or the other, it is their mistress who sneaks across them, one hand sliding into your territory to claim yours before you both can drift off.

Haldir

Not a close sleeper. Prefers to have his own space, his side and yours. Unless, that is, you have faced some sort of danger, in which case Haldir transforms from his usual stiff and distant sleep upon his back to pulling you into him, clutching your hand over his chest with one hand and cradling your head against his chest with the other.

Galadriel

Insists you lie with her and relax fully, give yourself completely to the night; to this end, Galadriel melts against the luxurious material of her bedding first and beckons you close. You dare not deny her, not even when her lips quirk upward and she tugs you gently down as if to roll in a meadow, the softness your body meets only her chest, her robes, as you each lay on your backs, joined in sleep.

Elrond

Coaxes you to rest gently against him, smile welcoming and serene as you drape over him. He lays upon his back, arms open to make room for you before one creeps over you. Not entrapping you, not fully wrapped around you, but bent just such as to caress you or hold your hand as you drift off into slumber in peaceful unison.

Arwen

Drapes her body lightly over yours, legs in a gentle fold against yours. One hand running soothingly up and down your arm as you both drift off. Arwen has a habit of tucking her head in the crook of your neck and absolutely adores if you angle your head to lay it atop hers when she does so.

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[xmpsrrr]

Bad at love

inspired on the song “bad at love” by hasley

(bakugo x reader)

You always knew loving bakugo wouldnt always be easy to love.

He was intense in everything he did—training, fighting, living. But love? That was something he could never quite learned to hold without setting it on fire.

For awhile, you thought you could handle it. You thought if you loved him hard enough, he’d let you past the walls he built so high for himself. That eventually, he’d realize you weren’t there to change him. You were there to stand beside him.

But with Bakugo, everything was a battle—even when things shouldn’t be.

It started with the little things.

Missed calls. Short and clipped responses. The way his eyes drifted past you like he was somewhere else—somewhere different even when you were right next to him.

He never talked about it. He never talked about anything that hurt.

And you, too afraid to push him too hard, just kept swallowing your own hurt until it built up into something you couldn’t ignore anymore.

The breaking point came on a rainy night. One where the sky felt heavy, and you felt heavier.

You had shown up to his house unannounced. It was late, and you knew he was home—he always stayed cooped up in his little house especially on nights like this. pretending the silence didn’t suffocate him.

When he opened the door, his face shifted into something unreadable. Tired, Maybe. Guarded.

“What are you doing here?” his tone was rough, the warmth you once knew disappearing.

You paused, standing on his doorstep, water dripping from your jacket onto the floor “We need to talk.”

His jaw clenched “Now?”

“Yes, now”

He stepped back, letting you inside, but he didn’t meet your eyes. His house looked the same,but somewhat felt different. Like you were intruding in a space you once belonged in.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and turned towards him. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

His expression darken, frustration flickering behind his crimson eyes. “I haven’t.”

“Don’t do that,” You said, voice wavering. “Don’t act like i’m imagining things. You’ve been distant for weeks. You barely talk to me. You skip plans without telling me why, And when i ask, you shut me out.”

His silence was louder than any explosion he could’ve made.

“Just tell me what going on,” You pleaded, your heart twisting painfully in your chest. “If you don’t want this anymore—if you don’t want me—just say it.”

His eyes flashed at that, lips curling into something bitter. “You think i don’t want you?”

“Then what is this, Katsuki?” you snapped, the dam finally breaking. “I don’t feel like fighting for something you’ve already given up on!”

He stared at you, his fists clenching at his sides as if he was trying to hold something back—something dangerous.

“I didn’t ask for this,” He muttered, his voice low, harsh.

The words hit harder then you expected. “For what? For someone who actually gives a damn about you?”

“You don’t get it,” He growled, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “I don’t need you to fix me.”

“I never tried to fix you!” you fired back, tears stinging your eyes. “I just wanted to be with you. To matter. But you won’t let me. You’re always running, Katsuki—running from things that scare you, even when it’s just me.”

A tense silence stretched between you too. You could see the conflict in his eyes—like he wanted to reach you but didn’t know how.

Then, he said the words that broke you.

“Then maybe i’m not who you thought I was.”

Your breath hitched, and something inside you shattered.

It wasn’t loud.

It wasn’t explosive like everything else about him.

It was quiet, sharp, and devastating.

“Maybe you’re not,” you whispered, blinking away tears. “And maybe im done pretending that’s enough for me.”

He didn’t stop you from when you turned toward the door.

He didn’t say your name.

He didn’t beg you to stay.

He didn’t come after you.

And that hurt more than anything he could’ve said.

A year passed

A year of learning how to exist without him.

Without his rough hands, his quiet confessions when he let his walls slip, his warmth pressed against you on nights you stayed too late.

Without the person you’d given your heart to, only to have him crush it with his silence.

You tried to move on.

You filled your days with work, with friends, with anything that could keep your mind busy enough to ignore the hollow ache inside you.

You stopped checking your phone for messages that never came.

Stopped passing by places you used to visit together.

But no matter how far you ran, he haunted you.

In headlines. In glimpses of him on patrol.

In the way rain still reminded you of the night you walked away.

And then, on a stormy night that felt all too familiar, came the knock you thought you’d never hear again.

When you opened the door, you weren’t sure what you expected—but it wasn’t him.

Katsuki stood in the rain, soaked from head to toe. His usually wild hair was flattened against his forehead, droplets of water sliding down his sharp features. He looked… smaller. Exhausted.

But his eyes—those fiery crimson eyes—still burned with something you’d almost forgotten.

In his hands was a half-destroyed bouquet of your favorite flowers. The petals were wilted, drooping under the weight of the rain. A box of chocolates was tucked beneath his arm, soggy and warped from the storm.

He looked down at the ruined mess in his hands, then back at you—his expression torn between guilt and something rawer.

“I know I fucked up,” he started, voice rough and quieter than you’d ever heard it. “I know it’s been… too long. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You swallowed, your heart pounding painfully in your chest.

“I thought you didn’t want me,” you whispered, the ache of those words still heavy after all this time.

His eyes tightened, regret etched into every line of his face.

“I did want you,” he said firmly, then lowered his gaze as his shoulders slumped. “I still do. I just—” He exhaled sharply, rainwater dripping from his lashes. “I’m bad at love. I push people away ‘cause I don’t know how to… hold onto them without screwing it up.”

Your chest tightened at his admission—words you never thought you’d hear from him.

“I hurt you,” he continued, voice breaking ever so slightly. “And I hate myself for it. But I couldn’t let it end like that. Not without trying.”

He held out the ruined flowers, his fingers trembling.

“I want you back. I know I don’t deserve it, but… you can’t blame me for trying.”

Tears blurred your vision, memories of that night and every moment after rushing back all at once.

“Why now?” you whispered, barely able to speak around the lump in your throat. “Why after a year?”

His gaze met yours—raw, unguarded in a way you’d never seen before.

“Because no matter how much time passed, nothing felt right without you.” His voice cracked. “I couldn’t forget you. I didn’t want to.”

For the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe his words.

Slowly, you took the flowers from his hands—drooping petals and all. His breath hitched at the contact, eyes flickering with something fragile and hopeful.

“I’m not asking you to be perfect, Katsuki,” you said softly. “I just need you to show up. To try.”

He stepped closer, rain still clinging to his skin, his expression softer than you’d ever seen it.

“I’m here,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “I’ll keep showing up—if you’ll let me.”

A tear slipped down your cheek as you stepped aside, holding the door open for him.

“Come inside,” you said, your heart pounding with something equal parts familiar and new. “Before you catch a cold.”

He hesitated only for a second before stepping through the doorway—into the warmth, into the space where you once loved him, and where, maybe, you could learn to love him again.

Because no matter how bad he was at love…

For you?

He was willing to try.

hope you guys enjoyed, their might be a few mistakes i was trying to quickly write this 😭.

[sirenseraph]

HII I LOVE UR WRITING!! Could you possibly do Kenny with a fem reader who is very timid, keeps to herself and really only opens up around Kenny??🫶🏼🫶🏼

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁𝒦𝑒𝓃𝓃𝓎 𝑀𝒸𝒞𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝒾𝒹 𝒮/𝒪ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

Masterlist

“You took my breath away, so now I can’t suck in my stomach around you anymore.”

₍^. .^₎⟆

Kenny loves how quiet you are.

Don’t worry you don’t have to speak he likes being with you no matter what.

“don’t worry pretty, i speak enough for the both of us.”

Touchy as hell.

This man doesn’t know personal space if it hit him in the face.

You don’t mind though, you love that unlike you, he doesn’t mind the attention and curious glances from people wondering how he went from the biggest party animal to holding your bag and opening classroom doors for you.

Being the way you are, it came with you distancing yourself from people who were too loud; preferring your headphones and staying in quiet areas rather than around overwhelming crowds.

Somehow you ended up dating the loudest and most outgoing person in South Park and you love every second with him.

In public you’re quiet, sometimes tugging at the sleeve of kenny’s hoodie which he instinctively lowers his head for you to whisper to him.

In private you don’t shut up about your interests and he listens to you like he has all the time in the world. And for you he does.

He always looks over at you at big parties and large gatherings that his friends invited you both to; to make sure that you’re okay and not too overwhelmed.

You’re his first priority and he doesn’t care if he has to leave early just to make sure you’re comfortable.

Your parents love him and basically adopted him at this point; treating him like their own kid.

They adore your relationship dynamic and are very happy that you found someone who knows how to love you, care for you, and understand how you’re feeling despite your refusal to voice it out loud; he can tell by your body language and facial expressions.

The private moments between the two of you are so special.

You’re more open to affection, straddling his lap and kissing him softly with one of his hand on your waist and the other on your cheek. He’s holding you like your so fragile and cherished, afraid you’ll disappear if he let’s go.

When you both break the kiss, his lip is slightly swollen and eyes filled with so much love for you; he’ll bury his head in your neck and stay there for a while.

During a group study session at someone’s house, you barely talk, just sit close to Kenny. He casually feeds you chips, strokes your thigh, and makes excuses for you so you don’t have to answer questions.

“It’s okay babe, keep up that mewing streak.” he says smiling at you.

“shut the fuck up”

Sometimes you cry from overstimulation or pressure and don’t want to talk. Kenny sits beside you in silence, hand on your knee. He will wait patiently until you’re ready to open up and tell him what’s going on.

“I’m here, baby. You don’t gotta say anything.”

You both sit in front of your mirror doing skin care and talking in whispers. You’re way more talkative here, asking him random “what if” questions and telling silly little stories that you’ve never told anyone. Kenny’s heart is more than bursting with love and affection for you.

“I’m gonna marry you one day.

You just pause and look at him responding with a “mhm” before continuing, applying moisturizer in little dabs on his cheek, trying to avoid getting it in his nose and eyebrow piercing.

“You actually have really nice skin, i’m kinda jealous.” you say to him, still concentrated while he smiled like an idiot on drugs.

“yeah? is this your way of flirting with me pretty girl?”

His friends don’t mind that you’re quiet.

Kyle really likes the way you’re in your own world, he wishes he could drown out the sounds of Cartman’s annoying voice.

You, Stan and Craig are basically the same person.

You hate when people call you shy.

Sometimes you just don’t want to talk or just get overstimulated and shut down.

Kenny noticed when your energy is a little low and knows when to give you space to recharge.

He encourages you sometimes to speak for yourself.

He’s not always going to be your mouth piece and you know that. You never expected that from him either.

If he notices that you really aren’t confident enough to speak he does it for you while also including you in the conversation.

Despite his history of partying and sleeping around; dating you had brought out a softer side that he didn’t know he had or only really brought out around his sister.

Instead of going to parties now he would much rather be laying on your couch, with you curled up next to him with your head on his chest, while he’s stroking your hair and pressing soft kisses to your forehead.

The movie playing on the TV is long forgotten now and he’s just listening to the soft sounds of your breathing.

Instead of sleeping around now, he would be taking care of you, making you breakfast and working his ass off to take you out.

He’d prefer to just be sleeping next to you.

Hey guys. The kenny x reader fic that i’ve been working on is about a timid reader so i just used some inspo from that.

I know many people have sent me requests and i’ll try to complete them after my exams are over.

My first exam is on friday and my last one is on my birthday (June 13th) so during that time period i’ll actually be able to write.

I’ll try to release the first chapter of the Kenny x Reader soon before continuing to work on the requests. (They’re in my drafts)

Keep requesting/ feel free to ask questions.

[thelastofmel]

A 7/11 full of weed?

(Jesse x f!reader)

Word count: 7815

Summary: You and Jesse end up seeking shelter from the snow storm in a 7/11.

Warnings: fluff, dangerous temperatures, mentions of scars, friends to lovers, weed, mention of sexual abuse/trauma, yearning, smut 18+, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, happy ending, angel baby!jesse, golden boy!jesse

A/n: I need more Jesse fics and appreciation so I decided to type this up to sooth myself until I find more LOL also sorry for the spacing, tumblr format always messes my stuff up. Also sorry for the typos I wrote this late at night clearly didn’t proofread well enough. Enjoy :)

"I thought you said the storm was gonna pass right over us?" You groaned from your horse as she trotted beside Jesse's. What started as a light snow fall turned into a blizzard in the matter of a couple hours as the two of traveled further on the patrol.

"I was being optimistic" He calls back, tucking his face further into his coat in an effort to shield himself from the weather.

"Yeah well your optimism is gonna cost me my fingers"

You weren't lying. Your fingers were completely numb. The gloves you had stood no match against the negative temperatures after being wet with snow.

Jesse looked over at you then and you tried to make out his expression, but you could hardly see him in the white out even being this close next to him.

He pulled his radio from his thick coat and spoke into it. You were struggling to hear him over the wind but knew he was calling back to Jackson.

"I know a place we can hold up" He yelled over, this time turning his reigns off the main path where the patrol usually stayed. "Follow me"

You didn't have to be told twice. After a couple more minutes of riding you saw buildings in the distance. One that looked to be a brick building under all the snow with faded green and what looked like a 7 on the roof. The other some sort of garage, just across the way.

You watched as Jesse slid off his horse and moved toward what looked like a garage door. You followed suit, feeling like needles were shooting through your body as you landed on the ground. Fuck.

You stood next you him, watching as he brushed the fresh fallen snow away to expose the handle. You gripped the cold metal next to his hands and attempted to open it with your combined strength.

"Fuck" He groaned, standing at full height after you both tugged on it. "It's frozen shut"

You looked at the horses, knowing they were just as cold and feeling pity for the animals, "Jesse, what are we gonna do?"

The snow whipped around between to the two of you, swirling white dust clouding your line of sight.

He thought quickly, kicking hard at the latch of the door before moving to the left side of the long door and doing the same. It seemed to be working, you could hear the ice cracking.

You copied him on the opposite side of the door, trying to kick hard despite your feet throbbing. When he tried the door again, it slid up with ease, exposing an old, small garage with concrete floors and bales of straw in the corner.

You grabbed the reigns of both horses and ushered them inside as Jesse ripped at a square bale and tossing chunks in front of the animals.

"Follow me" He called again, pulling you away from the horses and back out into the snow. He pulled the door down, closing it tightly to protect them from the elements. You followed close behind him, straight for the old 7/11. Once at the door he moved a piece of wood before opening the door and pushing you inside.

You could've never prepared for the sight before you, Marijuana plants lined the inside. To the right of the door hung dried leaves and jars on shelves. There was supplies everywhere for the plants and just pass them in the back of the building was a wood burner that Jesse was already squatted in front of, trying to get it up and running.

All of the once clear windows were spray painted black but was long since faded, however it still prevented anyone from looking in.

"Am I fuckin' hallucinating?"

"Maybe–" Jesse was rushing around the room, moving past you to the door you'd come in and locking it a piece of wood that was sat off to the side. He set it in place and pushed on the door insuring it was locked before walking passed you again, "Do you see a 7/11 full of weed?"

"Uh huh" You mumbled, nodding your head while looking around the building.

"Then no" He said simply.

"Are we safe in here?" You asked suddenly the wind pushed an overgrown tree against one of the windows. He moved back in front of the wood burner, fiddling with the knob before it ignited.

"Never had an issue with raiders or infected, no one knows this place," He explained, sighed when he felt the small amount of warmth radiating from the box. He glanced over his shoulder at you, "So yeah, it's safe"

You shivered in your spot still by the door, feeling like you shouldn't be in here.

"Get over here before you freeze to death" He added, holding his hands out in front of him, absorbing the heat, "It's not a lot, but it'll do"

You did as he said, moving into the back of the room and sitting in front of the heat source on the ground where he had been sitting before getting up and moving. He was right, unless you were sat on top of the box it wasn't gonna do much to warm you.

Jesse had stripped his coat, hat and gloves off, hanging them to dry much like the weed near the front.

After a moment he came back and stood in front of you. When you looked up at him from the ground you noticed he held his hand out expectantly, "Give me your stuff"

"No way, I'm freezing" You argued crossing your arms over the wet coat.

"Yeah, well if you keep them on you'll definitely freeze to death" He argued, taking it upon himself to pull your knit hat off. "They're soaked. If we hang them they'll be dry by the time we leave here"

You huffed, knowing he was right. He always seemed to be. You stood in front of him unzipping the coat and shrugging it off before peeling off your gloves. You hissed at the numbness.

You turned just enough so Jesse couldn't see them as he hung your things up next to his. When he was done he pulled the small couch over in front of the heater and shook out the old blankets that were thrown onto it.

Your hair was damp from where the snow that had gathered during the ride was melting. Underneath your long coat all you had been wearing was a thin blue long sleeved shirt and jeans.

"You know in case of emergencies, such as this, you should be wearing more layers" He teased behind you, seeing you holding yourself in an effort to get warm.

"Thanks captain obvious" You tried to stop the chattering of your teeth to prove a point but you couldn't. He instructed you to sit down on the couch and when you did he placed one of the blankets over your shoulders. It was thin, but provided a way to lock in the heat you were slowly getting back. "I-I'll r-remember that if we survive this-s"

"We'll be fine" He cupped his hands in front of his mouth and blew hot hair into them. He paced for a minute as if he were thinking, "As long as this heater does its job"

"Is this your place?" You asked, changing the subject as you watched him walk to a box on a shelf on the other side of the room, "Your little hide out?"

"Something like that" He said, digging around. You could see his back muscles flex under his black long sleeve shirt. When he found what he was looking for he turned back to face you and you snapped your attention back to the fire inside of the burner, as if you weren't just staring at him. "It was Eugene's place, he'd found it a couple years back, decided to keep the plants going and harvest them. He showed me once while we were on patrol and swore me to secrecy. Now that Eugene is gone, I come by and harvest what I can"

"Jesse the stoner" You quipped, watching the orange flames dance in the box. He walked back toward you with a package, small enough that it fit in just one of his hands. He was fiddling with the wrapping when you laughed, "Never pegged you as that guy"

"Not a stoner" He defended, finally opening the package that said Hostess on the front. "Just occasional, when I need to take the edge off or something"

"I knew it" You breathed, legs bouncing up and down as you sat, "Your sunny disposition makes so much sense now"

"Shut up" He laughed as he held out one of the cakes, waiting for you to take it. When you quirked an eyebrow at it, he added, "Whoever set this place up had a stash of these under the floor board. Eugene said they were popular back before, said could last through a nuclear apocalypse and still be edible. They're called Twinkie's"

"Oh I've heard of those. Kevin had a whole speech about them a little while back, talking about things he missed from before," You moved the blanket so you could reach out and grab it from him, "—and something called Oreos"

The second he saw your left hand he cursed under his breath. The skin was red and swollen, spreading up to your wrist with a waxy like sheen over the skin.

"Fuck, let me see your other hand" He revoked the Twinkie, sitting it back down in the plastic and moving to sit beside you on the couch.

You held your right hand out; it was just as red and irritated. Jesse immediately enveloped your hands cupping them with his own. "Can you feel this?"

"Kinda" You shook your head slowly, teeth still chattering, "They're pretty numb"

You really weren't worried until you saw the look on Jesse's face. He brought the mess of hands to his mouth, blowing hot air directly into them and rubbing his hands over them, creating friction.

He could see that you were still shivering, legs bouncing rapidly against the concrete floor. He dropped one of his hands, pushing the blanket to the side and touching your arm through the fabric.

"We need to get your warm quick" He sighed, suddenly dropping your hands and moving to grab more blankets. He draped another blanket over your shoulders and motioned for you to lie down.

You looked at him, face now against the couch cushion with the blanket pulled up to your chin. You were still shivering as he put two more logs into the burner and closed the grate door again.

"This sucks" You said in an attempt to joke about the situation, but you stuttered on the words. Jesse snapped his head to you, seeing your lips were tinged purple.

He was standing again and you watched him kick his snowy boots off before moving the end of the couch. You could feel him lift your feet and tug carefully before your boots and socks were removed, leaving them bare.

"Even your socks are soaked" He muttered pulling the blanket back down over your feet and hanging your socks up next to the gloves and coats. "You really should get some new boots if you're gonna keep patrolling out here"

You laughed quietly, "I don't think I'm fond of patrols anyway, maybe I'll try again in the s-summer"

"Scoot over" He instructed, standing back in your field of vision.

If you could feel your cheeks, you're sure they would blushing, "W-what?"

"Relax, I just want to share some of my body heat with you" He explained, watching your wide eyes before adding, "You're going to become hypothermic if we don't bring up your body temperature"

Before you could refuse he was reaching down and physically moving you over, not taking no for an answer. Luckily the couch was long and wide, enough for you both to fix pretty comfortably.

He laid back with his head against the arm of the couch and moved your blankets, so he was also covered. He was close enough now that you could literally feel heat radiating off him.

"I don't bite" He chuckled when he noticed how far you were pressed into the back of the couch trying not to touch him. When you didn't laugh, he cleared his throat, looking up at the ceiling. "I'm just trying to help you"

"I know" You responded quietly, body involuntarily shaking from the cold or from the fact that he was laying so close next you, you honestly weren't sure.

He'd heard about your time on the outside before you were taken into Jackson. You'd told him you were a drifter between different groups as you traveled from the Cleveland QZ. You never went into detail about your time on the outside but he knew that it placed you in less-than-ideal situations. He also knew you didn't like to be touched; that much he'd learned watching you recoil from hugs or any physical contact from others in Jackson.

"Just try to relax. You should warm up soon" He suddenly said, adjusting against the worn-out cushions before yawning and closing his eyes. He knew even just being under the blanket would help with evening out your body temperature. "I'm going to rest my eyes for a little"

You hated the fact that you could feel the space under the blanket become like an oven. You watched him for a while, until his breathing evened out and you were sure he was sleeping.

Over the course of the last thirty minutes, you had moved closer to him, making sure he was still asleep as you did. You were starting to get the feeling in your hands and feet back, the numbness slowly dissipating.

Before you knew it you were tucking your hands around his bicep under the blankets and resting your head against his shoulder. After about an hour you were asleep too, feeling content as the shivering subsided.

*

When you opened your eyes the light through the painted windows was completely gone. The only light was the orange glow from the burner, lighting up the room.

For a moment you forgot where you were, feeling hazy from sleep until you felt hot breath against your hair. You could feel the weight of an arm wrapped around your shoulder and the hard plane of Jesse's chest as he breathed.

At some point he must've adjusted his arm because you were now nestled into his side with your cheek resting on the fabric of his shirt. You wanted to recoil at the feeling of him holding you in place but you didn't. You felt warm down to your feet that had managed to find their way under his legs for warmth.

The wind whistled outside of the thin windows telling you the storm was still raging outside of the building. You briefly thought about the horses but knew the garage across the way was the safest place for them. You were pulled from your thoughts as you felt Jesse shift beside you, turning ever so slightly in your direction and tightening his hold on you. You knew it had to have been a reflex but it still made your stomach jump.

With him facing you more now you could see his peaceful expression and lips parted just enough for his breaths to escape and fan over your forehead.

It'd been a while since you had let a person get this physically close to you and it surprised you that you didn't mind it. Instead, you moved closer to him, if it were even possible.

"How do you feel?" His voice came out groggy and thick, eyes still closed.

"Uh–better"

"That's good" He said lazily, moving to yawn before realizing his arms were around you. It was his turn to go stiff and panic, "Shit, I-I didn-"

"It's okay, really, I don't mind" You interrupted stopping him from removing himself from you, "It's nice. You're like a heater"

A deep chuckle erupted from his chest as he relaxed at your words, sinking back into the cushions. "I'm glad I could offer the service"

A silence fell over the two of you now that you were both awake. Neither of you moved from your spots, just listened to the wind howling outside and watching the flames dance in the burner.

"Guess we won't be back in Jackson tonight"

"Guess not" You replied, trying to ignore the way his biceps felt under the fabric of his shirt.

"How does your hands feel?" He asked, remembering that they were on the borderline of frostbite earlier.

You removed them from his arm and out from under the blanket knowing it would be easier for him to look at them and see if they should still be concerned or not.

He took his free hand and grabbed your palm moving it around in the lowlight and examining it. His calloused fingers brushing your skin. "They look a lot better, might make it back with all your fingers and toes after all"

"You thought I was gonna lose my fingers?" You asked, biting at the inside of your cheek as he continued to play with your fingers even after he'd examined them. When he realized what he was doing he dropped your hand and cleared his throat.

"It crossed my mind" He teased, moving his legs under the blanket before turning to look over at you. Your gaze dropped from his eyes to his lips, before flickering back to meet his gaze. You hadn't realized how close he was until you heard his breath hitch in his throat. He sat up suddenly, knocking you off of him in the process.

"You hungry?" He asked, standing from the couch completely and walking over to grab the Twinkie from the counter. You hated that you immediately missed the warmth of his body next to you. "We can heat these over the burner"

"Uh- yeah sure, thanks" You mumbled, sitting up and bringing the blanket with you. The air in the garage was warmer than before but nothing compared to the heat you were just feeling.

He removed the pastry from the plastic again, this time setting them on an old glass plate and positioning them right in front of the heat.

"Is there anything to drink here?" You asked, not really thirsty but attempting to fill the awkward silence.

"Yeah, over in the file cabinet there" He instructed using his free hand to point over to the corner of the room. You lifted yourself off the couch immediately regretting it as your bare feet made contact with the cold concrete. When you opened the file cabinet you found a dusty bottle of brown liquor.

"Oh fancy" You hummed, grabbing the bottle and moving back over to the couch. "Some whiskey should keep the cold away"

After a minute he moved the plate away from the heater and sat next to you on the couch.

You twisted the cap off the bottle of whiskey and taking a small sip. The liquor burned your throat as you swallowed but it was good, well good in your standards.

"Those things look gross" You admitted watching him flip them over as they cooled down. You set the bottle between the two of you on the couch.

"Ye of little faith" He retorted, shaking his head at you and handing you one of the cakes. You took it in your hand and watched as he picked his up. It was golden in color, thick and spongey. "Trust me, you'll like it"

You weren't sure when you started this habit of trusting people, especially men. You assumed when you got to Jackson that it would be the same as everywhere else. You weren't to keen on trusting anyone again. But here you were.

You mirrored his movements as he brought the cake to his mouth and took a bite. The texture confused you at first until you tasted the creamy filling inside. It was sweet and heavy yet light, like a whipped cream.

He watched your eyes go wide and you cover your mouth as you spoke, "I've never tasted anything like this"

"It's good right?" He urged, swallowing his bite before taking another.

You did the same and after just a couple of bites it was gone. You cursed yourself for not savoring every bite.

"No wonder the dude had these stockpiled" You squealed, tucking your legs up on the couch and turning to face Jesse. "I'm not lying- I think that just changed my life"

He took a swig of the whiskey, offering you another sip, which you took before closing it back up. He nodded, amused at your reaction, "And think about how they would taste fresh and not expired"

"Why would you do this to me?" You whined throwing your head back before smacking his arm, "You are a sick man"

"Hey" He held his hands up in surrender on the other side of the couch. "You can just say thank you Jesse for introducing my palate to this delicious old world delicacy"

You rolled your eyes at him, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and taking another swig, feeling the liquid settle in your stomach.

"How about thank you Jesse for keeping me warm"

That caught his attention, something in the way you said it. He shifted on the couch, taking the bottle and sitting it on the table near the couch.

He stood up from his spot and moved to the doors where the two of you had come in. He moved the board and opened the door just enough to look outside. A gust of wind and snow came barreling through the opening, feeling like it slapped you in the face. He closed it again, putting the board back in a locking position.

"I think we should try to head back at first light, I have a feeling this storm is only going to get worse"

You nodded, standing from the couch, this time not caring how cold the floor was. You kept the blanket around your shoulders and let it drag across the ground behind you as you walked. "We've got a couple hours to kill"

He caught you looking at him and moved his attention to the leaves hanging up. He was tall enough that he could reach them easily. "I think I'm going to do up some jars, maybe take some back to town with us"

You moved to the part of the building where the plants were, a lot of them looked dried up and dead, most likely from the cold months and the loss of sun.

"I still can't believe you are Jacksons weed dealer" You laughed, watching him work. You opted for sitting on the counter to the left of him to get your feet of the concrete. Once up you tightened the blanket around your shoulders.

"Why is it so hard to believe?" He ponders, meticulously handling the buds.

"I dunno" You sighed, picking at the loose threads of the blanket and kicking your feet back and forth. "I guess because you're the golden boy of Jackson"

He made a sound, looking over to you. "I am not the golden boy"

You bit your lip to stifle your laugh, but you couldn't contain it. He definitely was. Everyone in town knew they could depend on Jesse. He always kept his word and was nice, sometimes too nice, getting himself roped into helping the elderly in the community or playing with the kids. But was also strong and well versed in combat. Tommy and Joel trusted him like a son.

"What's so funny?" He asked, incredulously. He closed the lid on the jar before turning to look at you.

"Oh nothing" You smiled, clearing your throat to cover from laughing again, "I just think it's funny that you can't see how much of a golden boy you are"

He rolled his eyes at you, crossing him arms over his chest and leaning against the counter that you were sat on. "Has anyone ever told you how infuriating you can be?"

"Hm- infuriating? No" You made a motion in the air while you thought, "Hilarious, yes"

"Now that I think of it annoying would be a better description" He teased, his eyes fixed on you.

You rolled your eyes back at him, glancing around the large room. You weren't sure if it was the liquid courage talking or the silence of the room but you felt the need to speak again.

"You know you're like the only guy around our age who didn't come onto me when I first got to Jackson," The smirk he wore faltered as he pressed him lips in a straight line. He didn't know how to respond, so he didn't say anything at all. When you were meant with silence you pressed, leaning forward on the counter, "Why is that?"

When he realized you were waiting for an answer he shrugged, moving back to his workstation and filling another jar.

You were intrigued by his change in demeanor, so again you pressed, "Was I just that repulsive?"

"Jesus, Y/N—come on now" He sighed, not finding the conversation amusing in the way you did. He had remembered how broken you looked when Tommy introduced him to you and the way you flinched when he held his hand out to you. "Of course, not"

You'd been found by a patrol from Jackson during the warmer months after you had been traveling with a group of four guys. Over the years you'd learned to steer clear of men in general, but they had managed to earn your trust when they saved you from a heard of infected.  They took care of you for a couple of days as you passed through the mountains. They were nice enough until you refused to give them the one thing they wanted. The one thing they saved you for. When you wouldn't put out they decided they would take you by force.

They had beat you half to death and left you for dead.

You distinctly remembered the first time you had seen yourself in the mirror of the infirmary once inside the walls of Jackson. You barely even recognized the woman who looked back at you. Swollen and mangled face with cuts and bruises scattered down your neck. When you were healed enough, with just subtle bruising and healing cuts you were introduced to the town. In the first couple of days, you were approached by many of the bachelors, except the one that had caught your eye.

When you opened your mouth ready to make another sarcastic comment, he spoke again. "You were so different back then, like if the wind blew too hard you would fall over or something"

That wiped the smirk right off your face.

He screwed the lid onto another jar before turning to face you again, seeing the expression on your features, before continuing, "The last thing you needed was some assholes trying to get with you"

You nodded, puffing your cheeks awkwardly and tapping your fingers on the surface of the counter beside your thighs. He was right. It was the last thing you needed or wanted at the time, which is why you avoided and turned down anyone who pursued you in the weeks that followed. Instead, you took the time to get stronger, never wanting to be in a situation where you couldn't defend yourself again.

That's how you became closer with Jesse. He would spend time sparing in the barn with you, teaching you different techniques for hand-to-hand combat and self defense. Soon enough you came out of your shell, especially around him.

You always wondered why he never made a move on you, even after months of training together every day.

He moved beside you to grab another jar down from the shelf behind your head, "Well-uh what about now?"

He froze at the question, arm lingering close your head before he set the jar next you on the counter, turning slowly to look at you. His gaze lingered on your eyes a little too long before he made himself look at the hand that you had moved to fiddle with the jar. "Yeah, things are different now"

"Different how?"

"You ask a lot of questions" He spoke in a low voice, one that he reserved for when the two of you entered abandoned buildings or there were infected around.

"I'm a curious person" You quipped back, meeting his eyes again. This time he didn't look away.

"I've noticed that" He said again, quiet enough that you could hear the wind just outside of the window howling again. You could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

You didn't speak again, instead reaching out and grabbing his sleeve, tugging it ever so slightly toward you. From your spot on the counter top you were easily his same height, something you only experienced on horseback.

Your finger hooked into his belt loop before glancing at his lips again. He's so close now that you feel the heat radiating from him again. Before you let yourself overthink, you lean forward and press your lips against his.

His lips part ever so slightly, but he doesn't reciprocate, instead pulling away after a couple of seconds and blinking at you.

"What's wrong?" This time you were whispering, feeling your cheeks heat up at the thought of him not wanting this, "I'm sorry—I shouldn't have—"

"No, fuck no that's not it. I–well I don't want to pressure you or anything just because we are sorta trapped here for the night and–"

"Damn," You giggle at him, now moving your hands up his arms and intertwining them behind his neck. "You're such a respectful, golden boy you won't even kiss me after all this time"

"I'm serious" He whispers but still places his hands on either side of the of you, trapping you against the counter.

"So am I" You whisper back, using your leverage on his neck to pull him closer to you. As you do a strand of his black hair falls into his face and you tuck it back behind his ear, catching a glimpse of his stressed expression, "Do you see anyone holding a gun to my head? Holding me against my will?"

As you leaned closer, your eyes closing as you anticipated the touch of his lips against yours again, a rush of excitement and desire coursed through your entire being. His breath was hot, his lips gently touching your own, a soft and teasing caress.

Jesse checked over your expression once more before he was leaning into you. And as your lips met again he melted against you, hands moving to hold your waist. His kisses were slow and sensual, as if he was testing the waters, still hesitant and holding back. Instead of letting him overthink you moved your thumb against the nape of his neck soothingly and smiled against his lips, shrugging the blanket from around your shoulders.

He pulled back briefly, searching your face again before capturing your lips once more in a deeper, more passionate kiss. His hands moved to cradle your face as you deepened the kiss, thumbs tracing soothingly across your skin. Slowly, he parted your lips, his tongue running along the soft skin of your bottom lip, his hands gripping your thighs tighter, drawing you closer to him. The kiss deepened, his tongue exploring your mouth, tasting you, claiming you, consuming you. It was a slow and sensual kiss, filled with a passion so intense it took your breath away.

He angled your head back giving him better access to explore with his tongue as you let a low moan escape your lips. He made a sound in response and you opened your legs to him.

He settled between your legs and you pulled back just enough to mutter, "You smell like marijuana"

His laugh vibrates your lips making butterflies erupt in your stomach. Those butterflies only got worse when you felt him nip at your bottom lip.

You smirked, pulling away and pushing his head back, exposing his neck to you as your lips trailed down the skin. You heard his breath catch in his throat as his hands gripped at your thighs, "Fuck," he muttered.

Before you let him kiss you again you were reaching for the hem of his shirt, pulling it out from where it was tucked into the waistband of his pants. He got the idea and reached for it, pulling it all the way off leaving his chest bare and exposed to your touch. He shivered slightly as the cool air hit his skin, eyes locking onto yours as you took in the sight of him.

You'd seen him shirtless before, in the hotter months working or building around town when it was entirely too hot to wear a shirt, but never like this. Never this close. He pulled you closer once again, his chest pressed against you as his mouth sought out yours.

As you wrapped your legs around his waist, you could feel the strength and solidity of his body beneath your thighs. His arms encircled you, pulling you close as he lifted you effortlessly off the counter, carrying you as if you weighed nothing. His grip was firm, secure, and you felt a sense of safety and security as he held you tight against him. You found it extremely attractive that he was able to walk and kiss you at the same time.

His footsteps faltered slightly as he continued to kiss you, his attention fully focused on the taste of your lips and the feel of your body in his arms. He was wrapped up in the moment, intoxicated by your touch and the way your body responded to his. Unaware of his surroundings, he stumbled slightly, almost tripping over a box of tools on the floor.

Startled by your sudden gasp, Jesse quickly steadied himself, holding you tightly against him. He could feel your face buried in his shoulder, your body trembling slightly from the near fall.

"Please don't drop me" You whined, peppering light kisses along his collarbone.

"Don't worry, I've got you" He let out a low chuckle, his lips brushing against your ear, amused at your reaction and grip on him.

He focused on walking now, moving his thumb against your thigh as he did. You had to bite your lip at the sheer strength he had. You knew he was strong and, well jacked, but you were prepared for this.

Jesse carefully lowered himself onto the couch, positioning himself so that you were straddling his lap, your legs still wrapped around his waist. His hands moved back to your thighs, his grip firm yet gentle as he held you close to him.

Now safely settled, you kissed him again, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and hips moving against him. Your tongues fought for dominance against each other and he kept his hands on your waist, like the golden boy he was.

You rolled your hips lightly against him and smirked when his body jerked. You moved one of your hands from their place, blindly reaching for his hand on your waist. When you did you captured it, dragging it up and under your shirt on your back.

You hissed at how cold his fingers were but quickly recovered when you felt his calloused touch against your skin. You felt the corners of his mouth turn upward as he spread his fingers, moving them carefully.

His under hand found its way under the shirt and on your back soon after, moving up toward your shoulder blades to bring you closer to him.

You pulled back, grabbing your shirt and pulling it over your head in a quick motion, tossing it somewhere near the wood burner.

He gaped at you, not for what was under shirt like a normal guy, but for the scar that ran from your collarbone straight in a diagonal line and stopping at the top of your left breast. 

He'd seen you in low cut tops in the warmer months but he'd only ever gotten glances when it peeked through, it never occurred to him that it continued on.

You moved your hair to the side, fingers falling to fiddle with the button of his pants, hoping it would move the moment along, it didn't.

Instead he took his index finger and traced the scar, leaving goosebumps in his wake, "What's this from?"

"Knife" You said simply, leaning in and capturing his lips with your own; a plea to shut him up.

He kissed you back but only for a minute before he turned his head to the side, breaking the seal, "What happened?"

You rolled your eyes, turning your attention to his neck, sucking and kissing at the skin. He seemed to stiffen, so you huffed, "Remember the story I told you about the group I was with before Jackson?" You didn't wait for him to answer, "They did it"

"It was deep" He said, examining it again before looking up at you when you let out a dry laugh. "You never said what happened"

You moved your hands from his pants because it clearly wasn't helping you change the subject, and instead settled them on his shoulders.

When you thought about being half naked with Jesse this is not what you had in mind.

You looked at the space behind him, where you two had started this whole thing, biting at your cheek. You didn't want to sugar coat it for him, the way you did the others who had the nerve to ask. You liked Jesse, you really liked him. You wanted to be honest. "I—uh, thought they were good men– they got me out of a sticky situation with some infected,"

While you spoke he played with your hair, twisting the ends gently between his fingers. "I didn't plan on staying with them, I preferred to be alone out there. But they told me they had families; wives and daughters– said they were about a four day trek away. About a day later they came on to me around the fire after they set up camp—"

You hated that you had his full attention, feeling nervous under his gaze suddenly while you spoke, "I thought it was a joke at first, told them I wasn't interested but they–uh didn't like that"

"So when George and the others found you, that was–" He trailed off, Adam's Apple bobbing as he swallowed.

You nodded, finger nails absentmindedly pressing into his skin, "After they well, you know, they beat me— left me for dead"

You felt like you were floating outside of your body, seeing yourself on Jesses lap from the side, shirts missing and an uncomfortable silence.

"I didn't know" Jesse said, hands on your thighs, rubbing them soothingly, bringing you back to your body.

"It's not exactly something I tell a lot of people—or well anyone" You were the most vulnerable you'd been right there in that moment and you hated it, "At least I got a cool scar from it"

Jesse didn't laugh, instead he moved his hand up to your face, cupping your cheek. The gesture and expression on his features instantly made you feel the same way you'd felt the day you were saved. Broken.

And he must've realized because before you knew it he had moved his hand to the back of your neck and was pulling you against him. You let him, body curling slightly into him and face burying into his neck. His hands moved to rub your back soothingly.

You hadn't hugged someone for longer than you'd like to admit, and after that incident you avoided being touched all together. But in that moment you felt your walls coming down.

"Jesse" You mumbled, voice muffled against his skin. When he hummed you continued, "Does all that—uh bother you? I know it's a lot and the—"

He didn't let you finish, moving his head and catching your lips in a soft kiss. He pulled back then kissed you again before pressing his forehead to yours "Does that answer your question?"

You couldn't hide the way the corners of your mouth twitched as you nudged his nose against yours.

You moved from his lap, throwing yourself to the other side of the couch and lying on your back. He watched you amused at the sudden movement.

"C'here" You demanded quietly, propping yourself up on your elbows.

He raised an eyebrow at you, intrigued by your request. He obeyed, moving on the couch before crawling toward you, stopping when he could hover above you. One of his legs found its spot between your legs and your hands moved over his biceps.

You leaned up slowly desperate for him. He met you halfway, tongues tangling together almost immediately. His hand held your face before dragging down to your bra, where it stopped momentarily on the scar again, before massaging your breast, squeezing it gently.

You shifted under neath him so you could reach for his button and zipper again but he stopped you, grabbing your hand, "Are you sure?"

You nodded, biting your lip at the sight of him above you.

"Use your words" He instructed, "I need to know"

"Jesse" You groaned, throwing your head back against the cushion, "I've been sure for a long time"

He smiled at that, leaning down and kissing you before sitting up on the couch, hands finding your zipper and tugging your jeans down your legs.

You sat up, eager to take his pants off for him, unzipping them and pulling them down his thighs. His bulge was prominent and when no longer restricted it sprung under his boxers.

You reached around your back, contorting slightly to un-zap the clasp of your bra before tossing it.

You threw yourself back down, eager to have him back on-top of you. Luckily he didn't want to waste time either because you were barely able to shimmy off your panties before he was coming back above you.

His mouth came to your neck, nipping at the skin there as he moved down. His lips found your scar and he took his time pressing gentle kisses along the length of it. That gesture alone could have made you ascend from your body. Just the idea of him taking care of you, the feeling of respect that you had been denied the last time a man was on top of you. He moved further down to your breasts, sucking at your nipples.

At some point he had moved his hand down between your thighs and when his calloused fingers grazed your folds you nearly fell apart. You held your breath as his fingers found your clit and his mouth came back to you, kissing you sloppy.

"Jesse" You moaned, feeling him against your thigh, "Please"

"Listen" He whispered in your ear, fingers halting between your folds, "You say the word and I'll stop —I won't ask any questions"

Yep. That was the hottest thing you'd heard.

"I know" You breathed, unable to hide how desperate you were, "I trust you"

That was all the reassurance he needed as he lined himself up with your entrance. As he pushed into you he caught your lips, kissing you hard.

You gasped into his mouth at the sudden sensation as he gave you moment to adjust to his size before grinding into you.

He developed his rhythm as you moved your hands from his neck, spreading them across the plane of his back and dragging your nails against his skin. He moaned, making you feel weak, "You okay?"

You couldn't speak, not when you were this close, so instead you hummed, nodding and gripping him harder. He picked up his speed, using the back of the couch as a brace as he moved in and out of you, faster and faster. He was biting into your shoulder, trying to control himself.

"I'm close–" You whined, squeezing your eyes shut.

"I know, babygirl, hold on for me" His voice alone nearly pushed you over the edge. You felt him lift one of your thighs, the position unlocking a whole new pleasure as you reached the edge clutching onto his arm and biting slightly to muffle your screams.

The sight of you desperately clinging onto him and riding the wave of your orgasm is what sent him over the edge as he pulled out of you turning to the side and releasing his seed on an old cloth. Neither of you had anything close to birth control or condoms, so the pull out method was the only option.

When he came back to you, he laid his head on your chest, his hand finding yours on your stomach. The two of you lie there, breathing rapidly with sheen of sweat across your foreheads.

"You're shaking again" He whispered, reaching for the blanket from earlier. "Are you cold?"

"N-not cold" You muttered, moving to face him, brushing the hair that stuck to his forehead back, "Just happy"

"You're sure?" He asked, still pulling the blanket up and over the both of your bodies.

You nodded, feeling content and nuzzling into his side, "Was that uh–good for you?"

Jesse nodded, his breath coming in ragged breaths as he laughed against your skin. "Are you kiddin'," He lifted his head and kissed you again, feeling dazed. "I've never been so thankful for snow storm"

You smiled against him, feeling pure bliss. You sat up slightly, trying to untangle the mess of limbs under the blanket before cuddling into his side, your leg thrown over his legs.

"Are your feet always this cold?" He muttered against your hair, fingers tracing your naked arm, leaving goosebumps.

"You'll get used to it" You teased tracing his chest, eyes flickering closed to the sound of his heartbeat, not even a small part of you worried that you insinuated this happening again.

You wanted it to. You wanted him like this, forever. 

"We'll see about that" He quipped, using both his arms around you to keep you tight against him as your breath began to even out, "Just wait til I get you those new boots, you'll have the warmest feet in Wyoming"

For the first time in a long time you felt loved. You wouldn't be letting this feeling go anytime soon.

[astrolotte]

like father like son

[skunkes]

crinch

[indulgentdaydream]

headcanons with attractive things jason does 😭🫶

anon i have GOT YOU

When he sits on a couch, no matter if you’re on too or not, that man is SPREAD

Arms wide and resting on the back of the couch. Manspreading his thighs wide open. A relaxed expression on his face. Maybe a book in hand.

When moving in for a kiss, he cups your face with his left hand first. Then strokes his thumb on your cheek twice while actually kissing you.

Every. Single. Time. Doesn’t matter where or when. If it’s just a peck or y’all are making out, that’s what he starts it with.

Kisses on the back of your neck if he’s walking past you and you’re looking down.

Also will keep his hands resting on your hips if standing behind you.

He’ll swear UP AND DOWN that he means nothing by it. That it’s just a habit. But will keep a hand on your thigh while driving a car. Not even sexual. Just comforting.

Opening doors for you and guiding you through with a hand on the small of your back

You’re both sleeping in the same bed? He’s dead asleep. Usually isn’t. But with you, for sure he is.

And if you slip out of his reach while he is dead asleep, he’s reaching out and dragging you back like a lost teddy bear. And he’s asleep the whole time

When you’re out eating or at a bar and he’s getting a bit anxious with all the people around, he’ll play footsies with you under the table

Got so intense once he accidentally knocked the table over and you two got kicked out

This man LAUGHS

No one talks about how Jason’s laugh (may have a fic in the works about it. I’ll finish it if y’all ask)

I’m not talking “he chuckled” or “he grinned” or “his shoulders shook with silent laughter”

I’m talking about how this man tosses his head back before leaning forward, clutching his stomach with one hand, the other reaching for some part of you to grasp as you laugh along with him. How his laughter is deep and BOOMING. It takes up a whole room. Echoes across the street. Enters your ears and melts into your blood stream and goes immediately to your heart which picks up its beating to make sure to get it to the rest of your body. How he straightens up again, his face split in a grin, eyes opening again while he has to wipe away tears of laughter, his body still shaking with it.

I want to make jason todd genuinely laugh and if the sound makes me go deaf then so be it because at least i was able to hear the most beautiful sound in the universe

I’m sorry this got off topic but

He wears glasses when he reads and that’s hot too i guess

[aciddrattboyy]

Wԋҽɳ Yσυ Mҽʂʂ Wιƚԋ Lσʋҽ

┆ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ - "your boyfriend arrives late for your study date and things(sex) happen"

ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛꜱ: ★ Starring: Mark Grayson x F! Reader ★ Run Time: 3.9k ★ Genre/Warnings: [Rated R: Drama/Rom/Adult Film] smut, both reader and mark lose their virginities, fingering(f!receiving), vanilla sex tbh, there will be eventual angst, set in au where they are in college before... (gulp) chicago incident, two part story ★ soundtrack: karma police, basta ya ★ pls pls pls any invincible fans HIT MY LINE i have no friends in this fandom and i desperately need them ★ 01 . 02 .

⋆｡°✩

noon. you invited mark over to your dorm at noon. it was three o’clock now, with no text messages or calls from your boyfriend; even after he assured you he’d be there about four hours earlier. mark had been… distant. constantly ditching you, not even showing up to dates or hangouts, or asking for rain checks if he had the decency to do even that. today was supposed to be a typical study date, with exams coming up you thought it would be nice. because even though mark left you hanging seemingly more often than not, the time he was there was, well, amazing. when he did manage to find the time for you he treated you like you were the best thing that ever happened to him, acted as the perfect, doting boyfriend. whether it was picking up your favorite food without asking or buying you a plushie of your favorite animal you didn't even remember telling him about, mark was loving.

but as the minutes ticked by, your phone continued being pathetically dry, and your dorm mark-less, you were starting to think maybe the good no longer outweighed the bad. with a sigh, you push back in your desk chair, slumping in the seat as you tipped your head back. you glanced over at your phone sitting atop a pile of books, almost mocking you with the lack of notifications, and thought about texting mark. again. dragging a hand down your face, you began to spin slowly in your chair, watching the room swirl by out of boredom. 

as you spun lazily, you could see your door slowly opening. and then there was mark, peeking his face through the crack, sporting that same guilty expression you were starting to think you saw more than him smiling. you plant your feet on the ground, coming to a halt as you looked at him with narrowed eyes and a frown. 

“if your excuse is you had to help your dad with work, lost track of time, or ‘had something to take care of’, save your breath,” you turn back to your desk, staring at the open textbook with your jaw clenched and brows pinched together. mark grimaced at your words, his hand twitching hesitantly on the doorknob, not sure if he should even come inside.

“alright no excuses,” he murmured softly, scratching at his nape as he stared at your back. sheepishly, he held up a plastic bag, the contents inside rustling softly. “but… how about an apology? starting with some food from that place you said you wanted to try?” mark’s voice had a hopeful lilt to it, although he knew he couldn’t keep fixing everything with food. he was entirely sure he’s been fixing anything at all, like a bandaid on a broken bone. but he also couldn’t exactly say: “sorry for being late to our study date. i promise i wanted to be here but my alien space dad made me go train with him since i just got super cool powers.”  it wouldn't be a secret identity if he started telling people. and unfortunately, people included you, no matter how much he didn’t want it to be this way. 

your glare aimed at your text book softened at his words, once again he had gone out of his way for you. acting as if he cared for you even as he was constantly blowing you off. a few quiet moments of you contemplating what to do pass by before you speak, turning in your chair slightly to look at him. 

“i guess that’s not a completely bad start.” marks face immediately lit up like an excited puppy as you spoke. it wasn’t a hard get the fuck out of my room and that was as good of a start as any when trying to make up for his major fuck ups. without missing a beat, he steps inside, closing the door behind him before toeing off his shoes, dropping his backpack near the foot of your bed and making his way over to you.  

“i uh got you a little bit of everything- well not everything everything but y’know a reasonable amount of-”

“thank you mark,” you cut him off quietly, not entirely sure how mad at him you still were. you take the bag from him, not able to meet his eyes as you set the bag down on your now limited desk space. mark stood somewhere to the side behind you, shoving his hands in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels.

“yeah, yeah no problem,” his voice cracked slightly and he winced at his own tone, feeling helpless and not at all sure how to really fix this without coming clean about his secret identity; something he could not do. the silence seems to drag on as you looked through the different containers. his eyes trailed over your desk and a fresh wave of guilt washed over him when he the notes scribbled into a notebook. “you.. um you got a lot of work done,” mark said awkwardly, grasping at straws to try to fix what he was rapidly breaking between you two. 

“yeah well it would’ve been easier if you had been here to help.” both of you freeze at your words that came out just a bit more harsh than you intended. mark frowned, not sure what to say. he reached out a hand, hovering it over your shoulder as he slowly opened his mouth. but you sighed before he can get anything out, running a hand through your hair before you turn in your chair to face with a faint frown of your own. “look, i’m sorry for talking to you like that. let’s just eat yeah? i’ve done enough studying for the both of us” you offer mark a small smile, one that he returns hesitantly. he takes a step back when you get up from your chair, grabbing the bed and heading over to your bed. 

“yeah that… sounds good.” mark nods, following you over to the bed. he sits next to you, mirroring your cross legged posture with his back leaning against the wall. he slowly scoots closer as you pull out the various containers until your knees are touching. you didn’t acknowledge it, but you didn't pull away and that was as good of a win as any. his eyes light up with an idea before leaning over the edge of the bed to grab his laptop. “thought we could watch something while we ate.” he offers softly, already turning on youtube and putting on the type of videos he remembered you telling him you watched sometime in the past. you nod at him softly, your smile growing both in size and genuineness just a bit.

“good thinking,” you respond softly, the anger already subsiding just from being with him. mark had a way of making you feel good, even if it wasn't for long, even if he upset you more often than you’d really like. you knew deep down he was still a good guy, and you desperately wanted to see him be better. wanted to see him start living up to his apologies.

the two of you eat in a somewhat comfortable silence, interrupted by laughs or brief commentary on what you were watching. and everything starts to feel normal again. for you, but also for mark. for just right now he wasn’t Invincible. he was mark grayson, a freshman in college with the more amazing girlfriend by his side. it felt nice to feel normal again, even if he had been waiting his whole life to get powers, to be just like his dad. you find yourself curled up against mark’s side, watching random videos with your head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped loosely around your waist. the sun was starting to set, the fading sunlight casting shadows and warm orange light through the blinds. 

when you tilt your head to look up at mark, he meets your gaze. his lips slowly pull into a goofy smile that makes you huff with amusement.

“why’re you looking at me like that?” you murmur playfully while tracing idle shapes over the fabric covering his chest. he pulls you closer, the movement almost imperceptible as his expression turns warm.

“you’re just so pretty,” mark answered just as softly, getting lost in your eyes with a stupid smile. only a second passes before he realizes what he’s said; his eyes widen, face flushing red as he sputters out apologies while trying to pull away. “oh shit that was so stupid- fuck im sorr-” before mark could run away and hide, you grab his face and pull him into a kiss. he lets out a muffled noise of surprise, eyes wide before his brain catches up to what was happening. then he’s humming softly instead, hands finding your waist as he kissed you back gently. “wha… what was that for?” he whispered breathlessly when you pulled away, your faces only inches apart. 

“am i not allowed to kiss my boyfriend?” you ask teasingly, smile only growing as your swipe your thumbs over his cheeks.

“no- i mean yes- uh yeah you can kiss me,” he lets out an almost self deprecating laugh, hands squeezing your waist gently. “i’m fucking this up aren’t i?” you pull him into another kiss, languidly moving your lips against his.

“i think you’re doing just fine,” your fingers tangle in mark’s hair, deepening the kiss, starting it off slow, gentle, but one thing led to another and soon enough you’re pulling him closer as you fall back against the sheets. mark follows you willingly, hovering over you with his hands on either side of your head. one of mark’s legs slot in between yours, involuntarily pressing his knee against the apex of your thighs. you gasp softly against his lips, grip tightening in his hair. when you roll your hips, a shudder runs through both you and mark when he realized what you were doing. the revelation only served to send blood straight to his already semi-hard dick.  

the kissing grows frenzied, the air between you heavy with harsh panting and even messier kissing. your laptop had been precariously moved out of the way and onto the corner of your desk. both of your shirts? thrown god knows where. was this all happening just a bit too fast? maybe… probably… definitely. but slowing down seemed to be the last thing on your mind along with mark’s. who was now practically buzzing with nervous excitement and lust. he’d kissed you before, many times actually. but never like this. never half clothed and making out with you as if you were trying to eat each other’s faces off while you ground your hips against his knee.

shifting slightly, mark props himself up on his elbow, body pressing more firmly on top of yours. he smooths his free hand up your waist, hesitantly thumbing over the hem of your bra as he waited for some sort of signal to stop. but none came, in fact, he could feel your back slightly arch into his touch. he let out a low groan, muffled by your lips, the obvious tent in his sweats pressed snuggly against your thigh. for a brief moment he thought maybe he should be embarrassed. but how could he when you seemed to just as affected. and somehow a lot more confident… with a gasp, and much reluctance, mark pulls his mouth off of yours, panting heavily against your lips.

“have you uh… y’know… before?” his voice was barely a whisper, face feeling hot and eyes slightly widened as he looked down at you.

“no…” you start, your voice equally as quiet as you prop yourself up on your elbows. “is it that obvious?” your brows twitched, just barely pinching together with a hint of worry and newfound self consciousness. 

“no- no no!” mark quickly squeaks out, shaking his head with wide eyes. “i just- you seem so- so…” he trails off, not entirely sure what to say anymore.

“we don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to. do you want to stop?” your voice was soft, a small smile on your face in hopes of making sure mark knew his comfort was important above all. but it only served to make mark feel more… feel more of whatever was making his stomach flip and his cock twitch against your thigh in a way that was getting harder to ignore. he swallowed the lump in his throat when thought about what ‘keep going’ would actually entail. 

“um… no. not really,” he murmured softly, a sheepish smile on his face. he feels his face heat up all over again at the admission. but before he can doubt himself, you’re smiling at him. and then you were kissing him, and it was like you had never even stopped at all. 

the kissing quickly grows heated, hands fumbling to rip each others pants off through breathless giggles and sloppy kisses until mark was seated between your open legs; both of you in nothing but your underwear and your bra long gone. mark smoothed his hands over your inner thighs, chest still somewhat heaving from the rather heavy makeout session just moments ago. he swallowed thickly, thumbs tracing over the lacy edges of your panties. his head snaps up when he hears a small noise leave your lips. the kind of noise that has his body going hot all over again.

“can i…?” mark wasn’t sure what he was exactly asking permission for. but the way you were looking up at him made him pray to any existing god that he was granted the sexual prowess of a veteran pornstar just for tonight. upon seeing you nod your head, he sucks in a deep breath, feeling both a wave of arousal and anxiousness. with shaky hands, he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your underwear and slowly pulls them off of you. looking at your naked body, mark was afraid he’d bust right then and there. but then your voice, soft and playful, cut through his thoughts currently being led by his dick. 

“c’mere,” you reach out, tugging on his hand and pulling him closer until he was hovering over you again. the backs of your thighs resting atop of his, the bulge in his boxers not too far from your pussy. you could tell he was a little nervous. and although you never got verbal confirmation, it was clear to see that mark was a virgin; somehow more a virgin than even you were. you card a hand in the hair at his nape, pulling him into a kiss that seemed to make mark relax just a bit. kissing was good. kissing was familiar territory. and after a small while, you placed your free hand on top of his hand not supporting his weight and slowly inch his palm downwards. 

marks breath hitched in his throat, body temporarily going still. that is until he felt how fucking wet you were as you guided his middle and ring finger through your soaked folds. a guttural groan vibrates through his chest, only barely muffled by your tongue in his mouth. 

you were panting against his lips now, soft mewls escaping you led his fingers to circle your clit. teaching him what you liked, how you wanted to be touched. and to mark’s credit, he was a very fast learner. soon enough he was moving on his own, your hand holding onto his wrist instead as he pumped two fingers inside of you. he ground his palm against your clit, making your hips buck into his hand as the pleasure just kept building. 

“o-oh fuck-” you cry out when he hits that sensitive spot inside you, arms wrapping around his neck as you nuzzle your face against the sensitive skin just below his jaw. if it were not for the string of muffled moans leaving your lips, even mark was able to tell you were getting close almost embarrassingly fast by the way your thighs trembled against his and how your hips snapped up to meet each thrust of his fingers. “fuck- fuck ‘m gonna- hah-” 

mark felt like he was almost there with you; he could feel the damp patch on his boxers growing as his dick continued to throb in it’s confines, leaking a lot of precum. his hips twitched involuntarily, searching for some sort of relief. but he would continue to push his own wants aside, breathing heavily through his nose as he peppered your collarbone with wet kisses and focused solely on making you cum. and that he did. biting back a moan of his own at the feeling of your walls clenching around his fingers, your whole body going taut under him as you held onto him tighter. 

after a few moments filled with only heavy breathing, your body goes limp against the sheets as he pulls his fingers out with a soft squelch. there was a very satisfied smile on your face as you looked up at mark, who somehow looked more fucked out than you. 

“you were… surprisingly good at that.”

“ha, thanks… hey, wait what do you mean surprisingly?” you giggle softly at the small pout on his lips, lifting your head just enough to press a kiss against his lips.

“don’t think about it too much,” you mumble as you pull back, trailing your hands down his sides until your palms met the waistband of his boxers. “uh there’s condoms in the drawer if you…” you trail off, eyes widening when you realized what you had just implicated. “i- i didn’t buy them they were uh- a gift from my roommate a while ago…” you look up at mark with narrowed eyes after seeing the way his lips were pursed, twitching with the force he had to use to keep himself from smiling. for now, mark would bite his tongue, not wanting to face your wrath when his dick was so hard it was starting to hurt. 

“condoms. got it.” the words were strained under the weight of his stifled laughter, but before you could comment on it, he was already leaning over you. rummaging through your night stand, he was able to pull one out, settling between your legs with the gold foil in his hands. “but are you sure you want to do this?” there was a hint of vulnerability in his tone, sounding almost worried that you’d regret being with him, or you were for some reason only doing this out of pity. but then you were giving him that warm smile and nodding your head, and suddenly all doubt jumped out the window. 

through more muted laughter and clumsy, inexperienced hands, the two of you manage to get the condom on without mark blowing his load then and there. placing his hands on your hips, he leans down to kiss your lips, rubbing soft circles on your skin with his thumbs. you hum into his lips, gently holding onto his biceps as you kiss him back just as passionately. but when mark reaches a hand between your bodies to line his tip with your hole, the energy shifts. less playful and more so intense, romantic. like the both of you realize what you were doing, and what it means for the relationship going forward. 

“are you sure?” mark whispers against your lips, eyes fluttering open to gauge your reaction.

“yeah, yeah i am,” you breathe out, eyes shining with something that made mark’s stomach flip in an almost scarily good way. he nods, adams apple bobbing before he presses his lips against yours again. he snakes his free hand up the bed, intertwining his fingers with yours above your head as his hips slowly push forward. it takes a little while of patience and whispering sweet nothings to each other before the two of you are comfortable enough for mark to start moving, the whole situation intense for both of you in a way that was both exciting and a little nerve wracking. 

“h-holy fuck-” mark’s voice comes out as a shaky pant, head hanging as he looked down at where your bodies met. his hand in your squeezes gently, the other holding onto your hip as he slowly rolls his hips; pulling out until only the tip was inside before slowly pushing back. “feel s’good,” he groans softly, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as he continued to slowly fuck into your wet heat. his hand leaves your hips, entwining his with yours and pinning you to the mattress. you bite your lip, muffling the whimpers and moans spilling from your mouth. squeezing his hands tightly, you tilt your head when you feel mark starting to suck and nip at the skin of your neck

“y-you can- nngh- go faster,” your breathy words do not fall on deaf ears. mark’s whole body stills for just a second before slightly readjusts on top of you. the moment he quickens his pace, both of you are turning into moaning messes. kissing sloppily and exchanging spit as the cheap bedframe rocks slowly with mark’s movement. he lets go of one of your hands, reaching down to rub messy circles on your clit with the pad of his thumb.

it didn’t take long for mark to get close, hips already stuttering as he teetered on the edge as your cunt fluttered and clenched around him. he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling any and all embarrassing noises that leaves his lips. your hips buck up to meet his with each thrust, thighs shaking with your own impending orgasm. your nails rake down his back in a way that has mark groaning against your skin.

intense orgasms hit you both at the same time; mark��s thighs trembling right along yours as his hips jerkily buck his dick inside you until he spilled every last drop into the condom. collapsing on top of you, the room is silent save for heavy breaths and the smell of sex. after a few moments, mark presses a soft kiss to your jaw before slowly pulling out and flopping onto his back next to you with a content sigh after tossing the condom into the trash bin under your desk. 

“that was…”  mark turns on his side, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling your back flush against his warm chest. nuzzling his face against your hair. “was… amazing,”  he murmured softly, voice full of bliss as he held you tight. you giggle softly, letting your body melt into his warm embrace. at some point, you both clean up; with shrugging on a shirt and underwear and mark slipping back into his sweatpants. cuddling up under your sheets, it was easy to fall asleep in his arms, perfectly content and feeling loved.

i hope you enjoyed !! reblogs/comments are very appreciated <3 ʟᴏʙʙʏ ﹕ꜰɪʟᴍᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜʏ 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

[peachpitfics]

Don't Blame Me

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Daphne Bridgerton is your closest childhood friend, her eldest brother, Anthony, is the love of your life. After avoiding each other for years, you both finally lose control.

Length: 3.2k

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Unprotected sex, sex in public, penetrative vaginal sex, orgasm, 'caught in the act' vibes, best friends brother.

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

Like many other close family friends of the Bridgerton’s, their home was always a beacon of safety and comfort, especially for you. You were Daphne Bridgerton’s first friend, and you had remained close well into adulthood, she wrote to you still from her new life with the Duke. Unfortunately, Daphne would not be able to meet you in Mayfair this season, the Bridgerton’s playing host while your mother and father were out of the country. It was your third year out; you had a few hopeful matches in mind, not realizing how difficult the season might be with unobtainable love staring you in the face.

“We are so glad to have you this year, y/n. It has been so long since we have seen you around the Ton” Violet Bridgerton was as much your mother as your own.

“Father’s responsibilities have been consuming these past few years. Mother and I hardly made it to the season last year. I am glad to be here, spending some time in familiar places” You smiled, linking arms with her as she escorted you to the ballroom. Your parents had entrusted your match to you, however, had requested the viscountess to keep a watchful eye.

Waltzing into the drawing room, just like old times, Benedict and Colin, discarding their playing cards, exclaimed with joy, rushing to greet you as if a long-lost sibling had returned. There was nothing as lonely as being an only child, deep in the countryside. Eloise was fretting in the corner, fingers agitated, tapping the outside of a book. This was to be her coming out year.

Anthony entered from the far side door, his feet skidding to a halt at the sight of you.

“You arrived” Anthony said flatly, turning on the ball of his foot, and exiting as quickly as he had come in. Embarrassed, you frowned, smiling chastely praying no one would notice his strange behaviour. It had been a year since you had last seen each other.

“I apologise, he is so bizarre in the mornings lately” Violet squeezed your shoulders, leading you over to a table laden with treats. Sitting on the settee with Hyacinth and Eloise, eating small cakes and discussing the books being read amongst you were some of the precious things you missed about living in the city.

In an unsuspicious amount of time, you excused yourself from company to find the washroom. Anthony stood outside the drawing room, leaning against the wall, unblinking and mind drifting elsewhere. You ignored each other walking past, which felt a lot like tiny shards of glass embedding into your heart. Locking yourself in the washroom, trying desperately to keep tears at bay, you looked into the mirror and told yourself it did not matter. You were going to find love this year, somewhere else. 

When you opened the door, Anthony had moved, he was nearly pressed against the door, waiting for you to come out. He stuffed himself into the washroom with you, closing the door as silently as he could.

“Why are you here?” He asked. He looked different from a year ago, he had changed quite a lot more than you were expecting. He had shortened his hair and filled out into his body. His hands looked the same, the same ring on that damned finger, flexing in distress and awkward guilt.

“It is the beginning of the social season. I am here to find a husband.” You stated plainly.

“A husband?” He scoffed, charming disdain painted across his face.

“Yes, it is what young ladies do in polite society. Was that unclear?” You asked. Your lack of facial expression and tone seemed to startle him, he had no idea what you were thinking.

“Why are you acting this way?” Anthony stuttered forward, getting uncomfortably close.

With the melancholic drop of your shoulders, and a heavy exhale, you pushed past Anthony and made your way back to the drawing room. It was so like him to put the narrative back on you. Anthony should have asked himself why he was acting this way – after all, it was he who decided not to court you. It was he who decided to kiss you beside the carriage that night. It was he who decided the two of you should not speak any longer. It was he who broke your heart.

The remainder of the evening was free of Anthony, filled with laughter at the dining room table over a delectable dinner. The Bridgerton’s sense of family was everything to you – even if Gregory and Hyacinth were bickering for most of the meal, it still felt as it was meant to. Violet showed you to the guest room, it had not changed much over the years, it smelled the very same.

“I am sorry Anthony could not join us for dinner” Violet’s voice echoed with somber searching. Perhaps she had heard the two of you in the washroom?

“Do not be,” You said quickly, “His time is his own, he does not owe me anything” Violet bowed her head, words fighting against her lips. She instead pursed them into a smile and closed the door behind her. Those shards of glass moved again, every second in this house, nausea held you hostage, terrified of running into him in the halls.

Daphne was the only other person alive who knew what had happened between Anthony and yourself. She had been disappointed in him, angry with the way he had handled everything. While she promised there would never be a change to your friendship, it had never really been the same. You tossed and turned far longer than normal; your mind flooded with images of the past. Thrusting yourself out of bed, it was clear you were not going to be sleeping tonight, you decided that a distraction may be best. In your nightgown, candle in hand, you remembered your way to the study.

The study was clear of any inhabitants, it was tidy, and the few cases of books loomed high over you, reaching the ceiling. Nothing in the Bridgerton house seemed to change, except Anthony, and it was perpetually for the worse in your opinion. You selected a book randomly from the nearest shelf and perched yourself on the seat closest to the window, looking out over the square. Lounging sleepily, you read in the low candlelight, only disturbed by the creaking of the door, an unexpected sound, making you jolt.

“I knew you’d be in here” Anthony said softly, entering the room with caution as your emotionless face watched him. “You were always in here when we were children. No one could ever find you” His smile was humorless.

“You did” You waited before responding, wondering why he was here, speaking with you, “Why are you here, right now, Anthony?” You demanded.

Anthony moved to the seat across from yours, sitting gingerly, holding eye contact in the hopes you would not tell him to leave. You allowed him to sit, his hands folded in front of him.

“I don’t know” Anthony rubbed desperately at his forehead, “I just got up, and felt myself pulled here, some unknown force, dragging me to you” Anthony admitted. You had always been attracted to each other, always gravitating towards one another.

“I did not choose to come here; my mother asked a favor of yours. I would never have chosen to be this close to you. You destroyed me, Anthony” Tears welled to your eyes, “We cannot be near each other – you made that it very clear, you took what you wanted of me, and cast me aside” Hands pressed down on your knees, you pushed off, making for the closest exit. Anthony dashed around in front of you, placing his body between you and the door for the second time today.

“Goodnight, Viscount Bridgerton” You curtsied formally, hoping the rules of social engagement were enough for this man to understand the dangerous position he was putting both of you in, yet again.

Anthony’s hand trembled, reaching out, taking yours into his. His fingers tangled between yours, his grip strengthening when he realized you were not pulling away. His thumb affectionately circling the skin on wrist, the sound of his swallowing resounding across the empty room, his anxious tongue flicking over his lips. If anything was clear, it was the internal battle that seemed to be always happening inside Anthony’s mind.

His touch, the supreme legacy of your existence. His unsteady breath, captivating your common sense. The thrilling space between you slowly closing, heads bobbing forward as if intoxicated and unable to control oneself, meeting together in the middle in an exhilarating kiss, just like you had remembered it.

His lips were shamelessly enthusiastic, as if made for this very purpose, just for you. His forceful hands weaved into your loose hair, pulling you deeper into every kiss. You were overcome, that old bold, need for him to find its way out of the labyrinth you had designed for it. Anthony’s fingers pressed to your hips, his teeth nipped eagerly at the skin on your neck, softs sighs of delight followed.

It was when his hand moved sensually to your breast that you broke free of the enchanting dance you had found yourself in so many times before with him. Your body did not reflect the same pleasures, you took his hands from your body and laid them at his sides, and stood tall and stepped back.

“I am here to secure a husband, for my future” Tears found their way back to you.

“Y/n…” Anthony shook his head, stepping forward, trying to hold onto you again.

“If you cannot give me what I seek, please, stop hunting me down. I want a life with you, Anthony. I will love you until my dying breath… But you, you will never grow up” You said finitely, again, pushing your way past him and fleeing back to your room.

~

Most of the next day was spent in tired indifference, you remained in your room, preparing for the first ball of the season. Tears had stained your pillow the remainder of the night, each knock at the door struck a chord of hope in your heart, wishing for Anthony.

Eloise and Violet helped you into your gown, the ladies’ maids fixing your hair and face. Violet ran a motherly thumb under your puffy eye, her compassionate heart shining through her eyes and tender smile. You gave a little nod, knowing there was never anything you could hide from her – she knew everyone in the Bridgerton house better than she let on.

The Viscounts escorted Eloise into Lady Danbury’s estate, greeting the Queen and Lady Danbury ahead of you. Violet linked arms with you in solidarity, following Anthonys actions and proceeding into the ball.

“Who will you be accepting dances from this evening?” The Viscountess asked quietly.

“I am not restricting myself to names, I will dance with any eligible man who asks” You answered politely.

Violet gave your forearm a squeeze, “That is very sensible” She nodded, releasing you, sending you off into the lion’s den. You met up with Eloise, taking a short turn about the room to appear social, greeting the other young ladies who you’d met years previous. There were several older men who seemed to take an interest in you as you moved about the room with your friend. No one really stood out to you, no true love at first sight, much to your dismay.

Retiring to the wall with a glass of lemonade in hand, you watched the gorgeous young women excited to dance with suitors and recalled how that was never an experience you had.

Soon enough, one of the suitors who had shown interest in a season previous approached, positioning himself next to you. Lord Harlan Grahame was intelligent, considerate, and not entirely horrible to look at.

“Lord Grahame” You curtsied, a familiar smile finding its way back onto your face.

“Miss y/n, I do hope your mother and father are quite well” He remarked, having known them for many years now, he had noticed their absence.

“They are in abroad, my father has business to conduct in Greece and my mother only saw fit to tend to him during this time” You explained, “I am being hosted by the Bridgerton family. How is your family?” You asked in politeness.

“Fantastic, Mother has moved herself to the country and hopes to get yet another dog soon” He laughed, clearly happy to be free of her in his home. Laughing along with him, you spied Anthony, discreetly looking on from across the ballroom. The conversation between yourself and Lord Grahame was easy and hardly uncomfortable. He was charismatic enough that you could see yourself becoming quite fond of each other in no time at all. He made small jokes at no one’s expense, he offered refreshments frequently and complimented you in kindness. You could see and accept a perfectly happy future with the Lord.

Across the ballroom, sheer asperity brewed live in Anthonys eyes for all to see. He was known to have a temper amongst society. With a final twitch of his left eye, Anthony’s feet picked up under him, carrying him in your direction. Violet watched on, fear and embarrassment ready and willing in her chest.

“I apologise” You mumbled preemptively to Lord Grahame as Anthony arrived to interrupt your conversation.

“Miss y/n, may I have this dance?” Anthonys eyes were terrifying, filled with rage and jealousy. You paused, contemplating antagonizing him, forcing his hand, backing him into a corner. But relinquished, excusing yourself from Lord Grahames company, taking Anthony’s hand as he swept you off to the dancefloor.

You did not meet his eye, your nails dug into the skin on his hand in resentment. You said nothing to each other for the first several minutes of the dance.

“You cannot marry him” Anthony muttered in quiet, helpless indignation.

Giving him a great look of disbelief, “Who are you to tell me who I can marry? I do not answer to you, Viscount” You growled into his ear as he pulled you in tighter.

Anthony finished the dance, bowing to you, holding onto one of your hands with unbelievable force. He walked swiftly from the dance floor, conspicuously pulling you along behind him, and into a room down the hall.

“You cannot blame me for acting this way!” He yelled, “If I have to see you speak to another man this season, if I have to witness another man watch as you walk by – You have driven me to the brink of insanity” He heaved, frantic energy filling his body.

“What would you have me do? Spend my life in loneliness, a Spinster? Would that be convenient to you, Anthony?” You parried.

His hands ran through his hair stressfully, at a loss for words, unable to express himself in the way he wanted. His intention had not been to yell when he sequestered you away to this side room.

“I was fine! You left Mayfair, and I was well. Now, here you are – and God help me, I am intoxicated every second we are in the same room. Your presence is the most decadent drug, forcibly hypnotizing me. I am powerless to you” Anthonys words were like honey, carried on the end of a bee sting.

“You made your choice!” You yelled back at him, hoping the music was loud enough outside.

“I was young, y/n! I made the wrong choice!” He retorted, his words shaking, and unfiltered for the first time in a long time.

There was a second of unblinking silence between you before magnetic energy pulled you into each other, deranged nipping at each other’s lips ensued. Hands grabbed and grasped at skin and hair, trying to force your beings into one person. There was a white-hot craze that seemed to come over the both of you, and you had felt it before, a few times.

Anthony sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, biting and kissing in a spontaneous fire.

“Someone will hear” You moaned into his ear, as his teeth moved their way down your neck. Anthony did not seem to care, his mouth on your chest, fondling and sucking on your breasts, still sitting pertly in your dress. He was simply uncontrollable, his behaviour now inherently superior compared to when he had been speaking.

Anthony maneuvered your body across the room, hands comfortably held in places of control, his left on your lower back, his right splayed across your throat like the prettiest necklace. You reached the door, his hands twisting your hips to face it. Your palms met the wood, bracing as Anthony bent you slightly, kicking your feet apart with his. Anthony hiked up your gown, undoing his pants in the same instant and buried himself inside of you.

You mouth gaped silently, aghast at the entire situation, but thanking God above for the opportunity.

“Oh my god,” Anthony gnarled into your ear from behind, “Just like I remember it” He moaned, sinking deeper and deeper it felt like. Every thrust led with intense and vicious primality, his hands wrapped around each of your upper arms, for leverage. He was right, it was just how you remembered – overwhelming, devastating, unforgettable. You had thought about your secret affair with Anthony every day since you had moved away. The pleasure Anthony elicited from you sent you into a familiar haze, deep and indefensible. Every movement, every sound from him made you feel greedy, always wanting just a little more.

The way he pounded into your smaller frame rattled the wooden door you were leaning on. “Anthony! They are going to hear!” You squealed in a whisper back to him.

“Let them” He panted, “If anyone asks, I’ll tell them I’m fucking my future wife” Anthony’s hand found its way into your hair, pulling your back sharply for a profound, wet kiss. Anthonys fingers sunk into the flesh of your hip, painfully pleasant as his nails clambered for an anchor. Your body arched back involuntarily, Anthony powering through fast, harsh thrusts as he found his inevitable end, placing sloppy kisses on your shoulder as he slowly finished moving inside of you.

You both leaned on the door in exhaustion, bodies heaving in unison. Anthony placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, stepping backwards and rebuttoning his breeches, fixing your dress behind you. You turned to face him slowly, knowing he could very well go back on every word he had said not moments before.

The softest smile enriched his face, his eyes lit in such a way that you had never seen them. His arm dashed out, pulling you into a grinning embrace, smooching dear kisses upon your lips.

“Loving you causes me delirium, y/n” He nipped at your nose, your foreheads planted together, eyes closed in tranquility.

As you stood, the doorknob gently turned and Violet Bridgerton slid her head through the gap, assumingly checking on the both of you; you had been in here for a little while longer than societally acceptable for two young single people.

Her hand flew over her heart, “Oh thank God!” She exclaimed, smiling ear to ear, a sense of pride glistened in her eyes.

“I cannot wait to write Daphne” The viscountess cheered quietly, finding it hard to contain her excitement. “I knew that you would find each other” She chuffed, slipping out, closing the door. Your foreheads knocked together again, never having a minutes peace in such a large family – you stood there a moment longer, relishing such a long awaited and monumental confession of your love.

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

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[atlabeth]

heat lightning

pt 1 / pt 3

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: you end up at the heart of the bau's latest case.

a/n: took way too long but here's more gideon reader! just as irritable as ever with some actual human emotions this time around. send help and prayers bc she's gonna need it. and before you ask there will in fact be some more parts to close up this case, i just have to write them first and it may take approximately 10 years. thank you for your consideration

wc: 4.1k

warning(s): reader still has daddy issues, still hates spence, and still argues w gideon the whole time. more angst! typical cm case stuff (a stalker that has taken vulnerable pics of reader) read w/ discretion if you are sensitive to those things. more drama and more tension and more not being a good time for anyone but me

“On your right, pretty boy.” 

Spencer stops as Morgan rushes past him back to his desk, eyes trained on the hallway. 

“Why are you in such a hurry?” he complains. “I nearly spilled my coffee.”

“Gideon’s daughter is here again,” he says. “Did you not feel the temperature drop five degrees?”

Spencer frowns. He opens his mouth to say something when he hears the telltale signs of your arrival: arguing. 

“—so typical of you! I have to drop everything the moment you need me, but it’s like pulling teeth to get you to listen to me.”

Gideon turns the corner with you in tow. He has a duffle bag in one hand and a file in his other, his brow furrowed in frustration. 

“That’s because this is important,” he says. 

“Oh, and everything else I try to get you to be around for isn’t?” 

“You know that isn’t what I meant,” Gideon says, keeping his voice level. 

“This is ridiculous,” you spit. 

“It’s necessary,” he corrects. “I’m not going to play games with your safety.” 

“Oh, yeah,” you mock. “Because you’ve always cared about that.” 

He just shakes his head. “I’m not debating this with you.”

“Why? Because you’ll realize that it’s ridiculous?”

You follow Gideon into his office and Spencer watches him close the blinds. The door slams shut, and though he can still hear the muffled argument he can’t make anything out.

“Oh, great,” Morgan says. “Now we can’t even get Reid to read their lips.”

“I don’t think we need it to know what they’re talking about,” Elle says. “They’ve been arguing since she was brought in.”

“Of course they have,” JJ says. “Gideon sent Hotch to pick her up instead of doing it himself. She sees it as another slight.”

“She sees everything as a slight,” Spencer says. “She hates him.” 

“I don’t blame her,” Morgan mutters. “Not when we only found out about her last month.” 

“Surely this isn’t helping with anything,” JJ says wryly. 

Elle shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. Sometimes pointless arguing makes you feel better, even when you’re in the wrong.” 

“That’s enough, agents.” Spencer’s attention—along with everyone else’s—snaps to the top of the bullpen to see Hotch holding a file with the same expression as always. “I need you all in the conference room.” 

“Does it have anything to do with that?” Morgan asks, tilting his head towards Gideon’s office. 

“You’ll find out,” he says. Hotch starts walking to the conference room, the conversation clearly over. 

JJ sighs as she stands up and grabs the files on her desk. “I’ll get Penelope. The rest of you try not to gossip too much.” 

She goes off, and the others disperse back to their desk to finish up some last-minute things before the case takes them away. Spencer can’t tear his eyes away from Gideon’s office, even though he’s not getting anything. 

All he can think about is the last time you were here, when he got caught in the middle of your argument with Gideon—your dad, which was still a little weird—and he can’t help but feel guilty. 

Gideon is a father figure to him, sure, but it isn’t that difficult to end up with that dynamic when Spencer’s the youngest on the team. And he can go into everything about his father leaving and the psychology of that, but it doesn’t matter. Gideon treated him like a son when he had a daughter all along that he’d been neglecting. 

For all Spencer knows, it is his fault. 

“Reid,” Elle says, snapping him out of his thoughts, “you coming?”

“Yeah,” he says, nodding far too many times as he catches up to her in a few quick strides. “Sorry.”

“No need,” she remarks. “Gideon’s kid was all anyone could talk about when she first showed up here. This is only gonna make things worse.”

“He can’t really be that bad of a dad,” Spencer says, “right?”

“All I know is that having a parent in the force rarely ends well,” Elle murmurs. She opens the door to the conference room and looks at him. “We can’t be too hard on her when we probably see Gideon more than she does.”

Spencer recalls his meeting with you, how he barely got a word in edgewise while you spent the whole time arguing with someone half the office viewed as immovable. 

“Yeah,” he says distantly. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

-

“Why? Because you’ll realize that it’s ridiculous?” 

Your dad shuts the blinds on all the windows in his office, then closes the door behind you. He sets your duffle down on the floor then looks at you, that infuriatingly even expression still unchanged.

“It’s not ridiculous,” he says. “Sit down and lower your voice, please. We have some things to talk about.” 

“I gathered that when you sent your guy to pick me up,” you say, crossing your arms as he walks over to his desk. “Couldn’t even do it yourself?” 

“Aaron Hotchner is the chief of this unit and one of the most accomplished agents here,” he says. “He lives closer to you than I do, and I asked him to pick you up on his way in because I knew you would be safe with him. Sit down, please.” 

“There it is again. My safety.” You remain standing. “Tell me what this is about. I’m missing work right now— I know you can understand that, at least.” 

He lets out a sigh as he says your name and looks at you. “Can we get through this without any arguments for once?” 

“That depends. Are you going to treat me like your daughter or an inconvenience?” 

“You’re my daughter, I love you, and your life is in danger,” he says evenly. 

You open your mouth to retort, but your dad opens the file in his hands and sets it down on the other side of the desk. You can see from your position that they’re photos, but your curiosity ultimately wins out. You walk over to get a closer look, and any words die in your throat as you pick up the first photo. 

A photo of you. 

You pick up the next one, only to see it’s another picture of you. At least ten photos are tucked away in the file, and they’re all of you. Taken outside your work, at your apartment, on your morning run— god, there’s even one taken through the window of your bedroom, half-naked in a towel after a shower. 

You fall silently into the chair, your heart hammering inside your chest as your eyes dart between all of the photos. You want to crawl out of your skin. 

“What the fuck is this?” you breathe. 

“The heart of our newest case,” your dad says. “It appears that you have a stalker.” 

“Yeah,” you whisper, eyes still glued to your oblivious self, “I would fucking think so.”

“These photos were dropped off at my door this morning,” he says, and he flips to the next section of the file, “with that note.”

The erratic handwriting instantly stands out to you as you pick the photocopy up, the lump in your throat growing with every word you read. 

such a pretty little thing. I wonder if she knows it.

you don’t care about her, but I do. she’s just like all the rest of us, everyone that you’ve ruined.

think about your priorities, agent gideon. I’ll be watching.  

“What the fuck is this?” you repeat. Blood pounds in your skull as a distant chill creeps down your spine. “I— I’m one of your cases now?” 

“We’re not sure yet,” he admits. “These only appeared yesterday, but from the looks of it, the unsub has been watching you for a while. Can you pinpoint when any of these photos were taken? 

You stare at him. “Some psycho has been stalking me for a while?” 

Your dad says your name again, slightly strained. “Please. I know this is difficult to think about, but figuring out a time frame would help us.” 

“Difficult,” you scoff. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.” 

But it doesn’t have the bite your words usually hold. For once, you don’t think you’re mad at your dad. You think you’re terrified. 

“...Yeah,” you finally murmur, and you pick up one of the photos. “I thrifted a mirror a month ago, and this one doesn’t have it.”

Your dad nods, and he picks up two others. “Neither do these.” 

“So this has been going on for at least a month,” you say bitterly. “Great.”

Your dad says your name, quieter this time, and when you finally look at him his eyes have softened. 

“We’re going to figure this out,” he says. “This is a threat against an FBI agent’s family, and it will be treated accordingly. Forensics is doing tests on all the original copies to try and find a lead. The whole BAU will be on your case—I will be on it, and we won’t rest until we find whoever’s doing this.” 

“Yeah,” you say numbly. “You sure that’ll help? Because it looks like all this is happening because I’m your daughter.” 

“I know this is scary,” he says. “This… this is nothing like you’ve ever dealt with before. You shouldn’t have to deal with it. But you have to trust my team. We know what we’re doing.” 

“Of course you know what you’re doing,” you say. “You’re always here.” 

Your words have no bite behind them, more of an instinct as you grab your purse from the ground. You can feel the pinpricks of incoming tears, and you refuse to cry in front of your dad. 

“I— I need a minute,” you say. “This is all just—” 

“I understand,” he says. “Just don’t go far. Stay on this floor.”

You nod and start towards the door, but you pause right before you reach it. Your mouth opens as you try to think of something to say, but it falls shut just as quickly. You shake your head as you reach for the door handle, but before you get the chance, it swings open and you’re met with a familiar face. 

Spencer Reid, the kid your dad likes more than you. He’s nothing less than surprised to see you, from his stumbled step back, the slightly wide eyes, his hand poised to knock on the door. 

A mumbled apology falls from your lips as you move around him, and you can still feel his eyes on you as you speed off. You wonder what ideas he and the rest of the BAU have drawn up about you since your last visit to the office. 

You don’t really care. 

True to your word, you don’t go far—just to the bathroom. Thankfully it’s close, because the moment you make it to one of the stalls, knees stinging as you fall to the tiled floor, you vomit. 

By the time you’ve expelled the contents of your stomach, it feels just as empty as the rest of you. You stare at the wall, breathing slightly harried and skin warm to the touch, and you resist the urge to punch it. 

You have a stalker. Someone has been watching you for a month—at least a month, maybe longer—and you had no fucking clue, and now your only decent hope lies with your dad and his team. 

Normally, you wrote off anything depending on your dad as fruitless, but this involved the thing he loved more than anything in the world: his job. 

You huff a wry laugh at the thought. This wouldn’t get solved because it concerned you, it would get solved because it concerned his job. 

You stand up and walk over to the sink. You rinse your mouth, then just stare at yourself in the mirror. 

It— it feels strange. Looking at yourself like this, knowing someone has been—still is—watching you. 

You recall their words. 

Pretty little thing. 

You don’t care about her, but I do. 

A chill crawls up your spine. You can’t shake the dread settling all over you. 

What the fuck are you going to do?

You have to trust your dad, but you’ve never trusted your dad. God, he’s not even really your dad. He’s Senior Supervisory Special Agent Jason Gideon, nothing more—the estranged kid is an unfortunate side effect of the estranged wife.

You let out another breathy laugh. Would he even care if this psycho actually ends up killing you? 

You stand there for another couple minutes, time idling in the background as you continue to stare at the mirror. 

You haven’t cried, at least. That’s certainly something.

The door opens ever so slightly and someone says your name. Your eyes flick to the mirror almost immediately as your body tenses, and you recognize her as one of the BAU’s agents. She’s pretty and blonde with sympathetic eyes, and you know they’ve been briefed on your situation. 

If you have to deal with an office of pitying looks, you think you might lose your mind. 

“Are you alright?” she asks softly. 

“Just peachy,” you mumble. “My dad ask you to check up on me?” 

She nods. “You can imagine why Gideon is a bit high strung at the moment.” 

“I’m fine,” you repeat. “I just… needed a second.” 

“I understand,” she murmurs. “Do you still need some time?” 

“What do you need?” 

“Gideon wants to talk to you. It’s best if he explains it.” 

You huff a laugh and shake your head. “Fine. Lead the way, Agent…” 

“Jareau,” she supplies. “But call me JJ, please.” 

In lieu of a response, you walk over to her. She offers a thin smile and holds the door for you, then falls into step with you. A moment of silence passes before she speaks up. 

“We’re going to figure this out,” JJ says. “Your dad is one of the best to walk through these doors. If anyone can solve this, he can.” 

“So I keep hearing,” you murmur. 

-

Spencer watches you hurry off with wide eyes, and it takes a few seconds for him to snap out of it. He’s less surprised by your pace, and more surprised that you actually apologized for bumping into him. 

“Reid,” Gideon speaks up, and his attention snaps back over to his superior. “What do you need?” 

“Is she okay?” he asks instead. He can’t help it—after what Hotch just told all of them, he’s worried about you. 

Gideon gathers the photos back into the file then stands up. “Our job is to make sure she will be.”

“Hotch briefed us,” he says, and his eyes darted back to the doorway almost on instinct. “This— this is crazy. We just found out about her last month, and some guy’s been after her for longer?” 

“What this is is one of my enemies targeting my daughter because they’re too much of a coward to go after me,” Gideon says evenly. “We just have to figure out which one before they escalate.”

“How do you know?” he asks. 

“What you said is true,” he admits. “Hardly anyone knows I have a daughter. Even fewer would know where she lives. Someone who wants to hurt me would have incentive to discover both.” 

“So we look into unsubs you’ve put away that have been released,” Spencer says. “Or ones that are still in, but have family that might be bitter.”

“Exactly,” Gideon nods. “But I have to ask something of you, Reid.”

He frowns. “Anything.”

“We’re working on getting a safe house for my daughter,” Gideon says. “I need you to stay there with her.” 

Somehow, his frown deepens. “What?”

“I need to know she’s with someone I can trust,” he says. “There’s someone after her, and we don’t know who—that means we need to keep this circle tight.”

“So you want me to be her bodyguard?” Spencer marvels. “Do you remember that you had to waive all my physical tests?”

“Less of a bodyguard,” he says. “More just… keeping her company. Making sure she’s alright—mentally as much as physically.”

“Why am I the one that has to keep an eye on her?” Spencer asks. “She hates me!” 

“Don’t take it personally,” Gideon says. “She hates a lot of things.” 

“But it is personal,” Spencer insists. “She hates me because she thinks you like me more than her.” 

Gideon doesn’t seem phased at the comment. “She’s opinionated, but she’s harmless. And right now, I need to know that she’s with someone I can trust.”

“I— I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Please, Reid.” Gideon leans forward, and there’s an uncharacteristic vulnerability in his eyes. "If I'm going to be on this case, I need to know that she's safe. I won't be able to focus otherwise."

Spencer wasn’t going to lie—he genuinely thought it was a bad idea. But… Gideon said he trusted him. And this was his daughter—they might’ve argued, but they still cared about each other. if he could keep Lila Archer safe, he could keep you safe. 

“…Okay,” he finally concedes. “Okay.”

Gideon nods, and he watches the change in his eyes, the slightest bit of tension leaving his shoulders. “Thank you.”

“Just… make sure there are two bedrooms,” Spencer says. “I don’t need her to kill me one day in.”

At that, he cracks a rare smile. Spencer is thankful for it, that he can bring even the smallest amount of levity to Gideon’s life right now. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

-

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Your dad says your name, but you hardly let him finish. 

“No! First I find out I have a stalker, then my whole life’s going to be uprooted until you find them, and now I have to be stuck with boy genius?”

“You know, we’re about the same age—”

“Do you ever stop talking?” you cry, whirling on Spencer.

“I actually don’t talk that much when I’m around you,” Spencer says, his brows creasing. “This is the third time I’ve met you, and I’ve only said nine sentences across those meetings. Thirteen, if you count all of these too.”

You let out a strained laugh as you shake your head, trying to blink back tears. “This is fucking unbelievable. I know he’s practically your son, but this is just—”

“A safety precaution,” your dad interrupts. “Doctor Spencer Reid is another one of the BAU’s finest agents, and he is fully qualified to keep you safe.”

“He looks like a strong breeze could snap him in half.”

“This is not a joke,” your dad says sternly. “None of this is a joke. Your life is in danger—you have a stalker that has been watching your every move for at least a month, and we have no idea what their next move will be. Doctor Reid is more experienced than you in every facet of this, and I am entrusting him to your care. I respect him immensely, and you will do so as well.”

You don’t even look at Spencer, quiet rage simmering beneath the surface as you stare at your father.

“You really don’t get it,” you murmur. “Do you?”

“The only thing to get is that your life is in increasing danger with every moment you spend pushing against me,” your dad says, and he stands up. “Get your purse. Reid, get her duffle. We’re leaving.”

He leaves before you get the chance to do anything—you assume he’s finally tired of you. 

You just shake your head and pick up your purse, and Spencer clears his throat as he reaches for your duffle bag. You wonder if it even has anything useful—Aaron Hotchner was the one who packed it. 

“…So,” Spencer says. “I guess we’re gonna be roommates for a while.”

You huff in fully unveiled annoyance, and you push past him on your way out. 

“Great,” he mutters to himself as he follows you. “So this is what Gideon’s trust earns me.” 

It doesn’t take him too long to catch up to you, despite the unnecessary quick pace you’re taking. You bypass the elevator and head towards the stairwell, and Spencer catches the door before it’s able to slam on him. 

He says your name, but you just shake your head. 

“If we’re gonna be stuck together until this is over, I’d prefer silence.” 

“I don’t really do silence,” Spencer says. 

“I’m sure there’ll be plenty of books for you to read in whatever jail cell they throw me in.” 

“It’s actually going to be a pretty nice safe house,” he starts, throwing his hand up against the wall to catch himself from running into it as he turns, because god you are moving fast, “Gideon picked it out himself.” 

“Oh, then it’ll definitely be a jail cell,” you mock. “It’s not like he knows anything about me, so he’ll probably think that it’s perfect.” 

Spencer frowns. “Cut him some slack. This is all just as hard on him as it is on you.” 

You come to a sudden stop, whirling around to face him, and Spencer has to reel to the side to prevent himself from running into you. Had he not already been pressed up against the wall, he would have moved back further, what with the fire blazing in your eyes. 

“I’m not going to cut him any slack,” you spit. “This is the most time I’ve gotten to spend with my dad in months, and it’s only because some creep is stalking me to get back at him. The only reason I’m in this at all is because of his job that he cares about more than me, and now he’s sticking me with the guy that he wishes was his kid. So no, Doctor Reid—I’m not going to cut him any slack.” 

You’re already off on your way again before Spencer even has time to blink, and you’ve made it down the whole last flight by the time he pushes himself back up. 

He takes the steps three at a time to catch up to you, and he once again barely manages to catch the door before it slams on him. He calls your name, finally managing to fall into step with you right before you reach Gideon. He, like a normal person, deigned to take the elevator. 

“You haven’t started arguing already,” he says, passing a glance at Spencer, “have you?” 

“What do you think?” you ask, your arms crossed. 

“I think you’re giving him a hard time that you usually reserve for me,” he says. “Cut him some slack.” 

Your jaw clenches. “I’ve been getting a lot of that lately. Save the profiling for my stalker, will you?”  

“There’s plenty of profiling to go around,” Gideon says. “You two wait here—I need to confirm the safe house location before we head out.” 

“Can we stop by my place before we go?” Spencer asks. “I need to pick up some things.” 

“You have a go bag, don’t you?” 

“Yeah, but I— I wasn’t exactly prepared for this sort of thing when I came in today.” 

“You’ll be fine,” Gideon says. He walks off before Spencer can protest, and he sighs. 

You lean against the wall, your arms crossed with your purse hanging off your shoulder, and for once you don’t pass judgment on his—admittedly small—plight. 

“I changed my mind,” Spencer speaks up, deciding to try and break the remarkably high amount of tension that had built up in such a short time, and your eyebrows rise as you glance at him. 

“About what?” 

“I— I think I can do silence,” he says. “Temporarily.” 

You huff a laugh. “Really?” 

“I don’t really want to annoy you while we’re stuck together in an undisclosed location,” he says. “I don’t know what you’re capable of.” 

And for the first time since Spencer has met you, you actually smile. It’s the smallest thing, just a slight tilt of your lips that’s more akin to Hotch’s moments of levity than anything, but it’s a smile. 

“...Good choice,” you say. It feels like a joke, but Spencer isn’t sure. 

He smiles anyway. You meet his eyes, and for a moment, you’re just another girl. Someone that Spencer could imagine himself stealing glances at in a lecture hall, a regular at his favorite coffee shop that he falls for over the course of an especially cold winter, someone he meets on a night out with the team that he ends up talking to all night. 

You really do have pretty eyes. 

And then your gaze hardens, darts away from him, and Spencer sees Gideon coming back in his peripherals. The moment fractures. 

You’re not just a girl. You’re Gideon’s daughter, you’re in a remarkable amount of danger, and lest he forget, you do in fact hate him. 

Spencer lets out another short sigh. 

At least this safe house won’t have a pool.

[poguehearted77]

Imagine y’all just had the fight of your lives (maybe over his dumb gun or something equally Rafe), but later when you’re lying on opposite sides of the bed, he reaches out and pulls you close and says somthing cute or annoying idk And then, oh my GOD—it’s slow, emotional, and HOT because making up with Rafe would be next-level intense. please i NEEED😫😩

OH MY GOD YES. SOME SWEET RAFE AND EVEN SWEETER MAKE UP SEX AFTER A HUGE FIGHT. NEED IT.

#2 from my drabble game

smut: penetrative sex, some praise, I love you's, unprotected sex

Rafe is in deep shit.

You know that, he knows that-- hell, even your pet beagle, Poppy knew it. For once, she bolted away the moment the front door opened, and your oh-so-handsome, conniving and deceitful boyfriend walked in instead of running towards him.

Rafe is a dead man walking. How ironic would it be if he were to die at your hands with the very same gun he'd promised you he'd gotten rid of.

His body goes rigid when he sees the weapon in your palm. A nervous gulp falls down his throat as he does his best to stand tall. "Where did you get that?" That's what he asks you, he should've never opened his mouth.

You scoff immediately, carelessly angling it around as your upset mannerisms control your arms. "Get it? You mean where did I find it." He doesn't respond which is a wise choice.

"Mr. Montogommery called me earlier, he was looking for you--said you weren't answering your phone. He asked me to leave you a message," You're pacing now, and it made Rafe nervous. You're a little crazy, but so was he. It's why you went so well together.

"Like the good girlfriend I am, I opened your office drawer for a sticky note to leave on your desk, but what did I find? The same gun you told me would never be back in the house, Rafe are you serious?!" Your arms are flailing and he's half-certain he'll catch a stray by the end of the conversation.

He steps towards you with his hands up cautiously, "Baby, give me the gun, and we can talk about this." You snap, "No! Why should I? You don't trust me with it? Why because it's dangerous? Because it could kill you! You're right, Rafe. Why didn't I think of that sooner--oh wait, I did! And you fucking lied to me, Rafe."

Your voice is enraged and bouncing off the ivory-panelled walls of the house but it dies down to a shaky one as tears threaten to spill over the brims of your eyes. "Y/n-" He holds his hand out for you, but you give him the gun instead.

You execute a sharp pivot on the tips of your toes, ready to walk away from him but he finally speaks up and you stop--not turning around, standing still, anticipating. "I'm not getting rid of the gun." It's all he says.

Had you been in the mood, you would've turned around, lounged at him and strangled him, but no, you just kept walking.

Your bedroom is freezing that night, despite it being the middle of summer, and it only gets colder everytime you glance towards Rafe as he gets ready for the bed you begrudgingly shared.

Your expression remains sour, even in your sleep, no matter how far away from your boyfriend you are. There's enough room to fit a full-grown adult between you. The isolation was holding the production of your melatonin hostage, forcing you both to lay awake, backs facing each other but hearts reaching out.

Rafe flips onto his side, staring longingly at the back of your frame. He missed you and you were right in front of him. "Baby," His voice is soft, and the pet name lands on you gently, a testament that your anger has subsided a bit.

You turn over, choosing to lie on your back and face the ceiling. You deem that he's undeserving to see your face at the moment. "I've got another gun in my nightstand." You blamed your miscomprehension on the late hours of the night because surely he did not just say what you think he said.

Rafe can see the way your chest began to rise and fall at a much more shallow pace, he had about five seconds to start explaining before you turned on him. "I told you about my past. I've done some bad things. 'Burying the hatchet' doesn't exist for everyone, and I want to be prepared for anything. When I look at a gun now, it's not a weapon anymore, it's a tool. It's protection."

Your breathing slowed, a little. He takes it as a good sign. "I can't lose you. If something happened to you when I could've prevented it, I'd never forgive myself, and I know you know that." He's right. You did know that. He dedicated his life to you, making sure that you knew that. "I shouldn't have lied about getting rid of it, and I'm sorry."

Your breathing returns to its normal pace. You lay on your side, now facing him. "Fine." Rafe scoots closer to you, a small grin working its way on his lips. "Fine?" You nod, "Yeah, fine. I forgive you, this time, but don't you ever pull some shit like this again or so help me god I will-" He quiets you with a sweet kiss.

Well, it started sweet at least.

Now you're both watching him slide in. Your warm cunt wrapped around his length delightfully. "You're fuckin' perfect, too good f'me." He groans into your ear. His muscular arms cage you in, and you've decided you'd be more than happy to die between them.

Your soft moans bounced off his brawny chest and right back in your face, "Feels so good, Rafe-" Yougaspedp as he picked up the pace, hips rolling into yours for a much deeper angle. Your back arches off the bed slightly as sweat rolls down your back and sticks to the sheets.

It wasn't long before you were both chasing your highs. Rafe always sounded so fucking hot when he was close, his deep groans pitching up to breathless whines when you purposefully clenched around him, threatening him to fill you up unrestrained. Once you came, he pulled out and finished on your heaving stomach, catching your breath.

He doesn't get off of you just yet. He balances himself on one forearm as the other hand comes up to gently move the strands of hair from your face, "I love you," he means it, his eyes say it when his mouth does. "I love you".

[fastandcarlos]

How Everyone In The Paddock Knows You're Dating : ̗̀➛ F1 Reaction

» Max Verstappen 

He’s naturally paying attention to you, without even realising that he’s doing it until one of the team nudges his side. The team are well aware of Max’s eyes trailing across to look at you, or switching off to the conversation as soon as you start talking. He doesn’t know he’s doing it, but the team are well trained and constantly have to remind Max to pay attention again. He can’t help but smile whenever he’s looking at you, especially when he watches you walk around the garage with such an interest, showing a genuine enthusiasm for learning as much as you can about where Max works and what he does, 

» Lando Norris 

He’s like a big kid most of the time, but Lando becomes a lot softer whenever he’s around you, like you make him weak at the knees just from being by his side. The team notice how needy he becomes as soon as he’s in your presence, searching for affection as often as possible. Lando stops focusing on anyone else, the only person that he wants to be around is you. No one in the garage can believe how different Lando is when he’s around you, how he stumbles around, how he giggles uncontrollably, how he can’t bear to be in the same room as you without some sort of physical contact.  

» Charles LeClerc 

Everyone knows that your Charles because his eyes are always watching you. He loves knowing exactly where you are, forever checking that you’re alright and that you’re safe. When he loses sight of you, Charles can’t help but panic, eyes darting around until he spots you again. There’s a fondness in his eyes whenever he’s watching you, if you’re smiling, he’s smiling, if you’re laughing, he laughs with you, and if you seem upset, Charles gets upset too, heading over to you to see if you’re alright. It doesn’t matter what’s happening at the paddock, Charles loves the feeling of knowing that you’re right there with him, like a comfort right by his side. 

» George Russell 

No one in the paddock can fault how much of a gentleman George is for you, despite how busy he is, he always manages to make time to do all the little things for you. He holds the door open for you at every opportunity, keeps his arm around you to protect you from the crowd, offers you his jacket whenever he notices that you’re getting cold, anything that he can in order to keep you safe. Before a race George checks up on you, makes sure that you’re warm enough, had plenty of food, and ensures you’re sat where you can see the race in a spot that’s nice and quiet.  

» Carlos Sainz 

His smile always gets bigger the second he notices you’re around, usually spotting you out of the corner of his eye whilst half listening to what’s being said by the team. When he knows you’re nearby, Carlos is eager for things to be wrapped up as soon as possible so he can go over and see you. As soon as you’re within touching distance, Carlos’ arm wraps around you, with a kiss pressed to the top of your head to greet you, wondering what you’ve been up to whilst he’s been busy. Nobody else needs to look to see if you’re there, they can tell by the excitement in Carlos’ expression that you’re around. 

» Oscar Piastri 

Every single person in the paddock has listened to Oscar tell some sort of story about you, he loves telling them about you. He talks about you with so much excitement that every single one of them knows just how in love Oscar is with you too, sounding much happier than he ever does when he’s talking about his car. He remembers every last detail about the things that he does with you, and has the world’s biggest smile on his face whenever he shares them with anyone. It’s one thing that he’ll never tire of, forever gushing about you around his team. 

» Daniel Ricciardo 

It’s the little things that everyone in the paddock notices that Daniel always does for you. It’s the way he passes you one of his caps if it’s particularly sunny or passes you his water bottle to drink out of when you tell him that you’re getting thirsty and can’t get through to get a drink. He’s constantly attentive, despite how busy he’s supposed to be, he can’t help but still pay attention and make sure that he’s protecting you. The whole team knows just how in love Daniel is with you, after all, he doesn’t take care of any of them anywhere near as well as he takes care of you. 

» Lewis Hamilton 

The team can’t help but admire the way that Lewis looks at you, like you’re the most fragile person in the world that he has to protect. He loves to have you glued to his side when he’s at the paddock, no matter who he’s talking to. Whether it be a team meeting, a chat with a sponsor, or providing some feedback to Toto and Bono, Lewis still has his eyes on you. You don’t say much, not that you can, but when you do speak, Lewis looks at you with such an adoring look that the rest of the team can’t help but admire how fond Lewis is of you. 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[yandere-daydreams]

exhibit #5 - omorashi

an installment of the freak shit march gallery showcase.

pairing: yandere!geto x reader (jjk).

length: 3.0k.

warnings: non/con, fem!reader, watersports, infantalization, mentions of physical abuse, physiological abuse, implied kidnapping, and humiliation. dead dove: do not eat.

Geto Suguru was going to kill you.

Slowly, tortuously, and with pleasure. The same way he slaughtered curses too weak to be worth choking down, the same way he allowed his non-sorcerer acolytes to be torn apart after they’d expended their usefulness. Maybe he’d make you drink boiling water, or battery acid, something hot and corrosive that would destroy you from the inside out. Maybe he would drive some curve-bladed, ritualistic dagger through your heart and leave you on his altar to bleed out. Maybe he would have you drawn and quartered, even if you weren’t completely sure where he’d find the horses. You wouldn’t put it past him, though.

You guessed the method didn’t actually matter. Whatever he chose, whatever grisly end you imagined for yourself, the fact of the matter stood true.

He was going to fucking kill you.

You crumpled into yourself, pushing your body further into the back of the closet. Hiding would’ve been pointless, but you weren’t really trying to. Suguru had locked the bedroom door after shoving you inside, and you were beyond the point of trying to escape on impulse. It was all you could do to curl into yourself and try to forget where you were, what was coming, whose blood was drying under your nails. Even that was a futile effort – successful only in dragging your last minutes alive to a standstill and giving you that much more time to contemplate your utter hopelessness. You would’ve been better off banging on the walls and begging him to kill you now. At least, then, he might’ve gotten it over with quickly.

You buried your face in your knees, groaning aloud, but your spiral into complete despair was cut short. Distantly, you heard a lock click out of place, a door swing open, a set of padded footsteps growing ever-closer. You were tempted to stay where you were, to pretend he wasn’t there, but that would’ve only delayed the inevitable. Instead, you swallowed your fear, pushed yourself to your feet, and went to meet your hangman.

Of course, Suguru was waiting for you when you finally opened the closet door, and of course, he was the pinnacle of composure. Calm and collected, leaning on the foot of his bed, his hair pulled back and his traditional attire traded out for a plain black long-sleeved shirt and a pair of loose-fitting sweatpants. The three jagged lines carved into his cheek had been cleaned, but not bandaged over. Either they hadn’t been deep enough to be worth his time, or he wanted you to see them. Hopefully the former, but most likely the latter.

He smiled when he saw you – the expression softened, gentle. “There’s my pretty girl.”

You weren’t so serene.

Throwing yourself into his arms was more of a survival instinct than any real bid for comfort. He caught you easily, laughing as you barreled into his chest and buried your face in his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” you managed, voice muffled by fabric and proximity. “It was an accident, I—I didn’t mean to, please don’t hurt—”

“Slow down. I don’t even know what you’re saying.” He rested a hand on the top of your head, combing his fingers through your hair. “Why would I hurt you?”

Why wouldn’t he? He’d threatened to break your legs for so much as verbally wishing him dead, before. This was worse. This was a death sentence.

“Because…” It was hard to find an answer that wouldn’t incriminate you further. You pulled back, gesturing to your cheek. “Because of the accident.”

He hummed. “Remind me which accident, honey?”

Something curdled in the pit of your stomach. You let your eyes fall to your feet. “This afternoon, during your sermon.” And then, when Suguru continued to wait for a proper answer, “When you tried to pull me into your lap. You caught me off-guard, and I—” Fought back. Pushed him away. Acted like a fucking idiot. “—hurt you. It wasn’t on purpose.”

There was more to it than that. His followers had been watching, and the beat of silence that’d followed your little outburst had rung louder than anything he’d preached. You embarrassed him. It was only a miracle that he hadn’t gutted you on the spot.

“Of course.” His hand slipped down to your neck, his thumb rubbing circles in the apex of your spine. “And how could I punish you for something you didn’t mean to do?”

Easily. He’d done it before – more times than you could count. Your wrist still hurt from the day he’d dislocated it after finding a few loose coins underneath your mattress. You still weren’t sure they’d gotten there, let alone where you would’ve picked them up, but it’d been enough to make Suguru think you were planning to run away. Justification beyond that was superfluous.

But this wasn’t the time to point that out. You only nodded irrationally into his chest, and Suguru chuckled, kissing the top of your head. “I think someone’s had a long day,” he murmured, squeezing you against him before pulling away. “Let’s get you fed n’ cleaned up, alright? We’ll talk about your bedtime after that.”

You didn’t trust his sugary tone or saccharine expression, but obediently, you muttered a small ‘okay’. Suguru pulled back, taking you by the hand and leading you away.

His apartment was a small, depressing thing. He had a larger home further from the city, one with spare bedrooms for both of his girls and a private chamber where he could speak with his strange, eccentric guests privately. His live-in captive couldn’t exist under the same roof as his beloved daughters, though, and you weren’t the type of possession he liked to show off, so you were relegated to a well-maintained, but painfully unloved apartment not far from his temple. There wasn’t much decoration beyond the steel bolts on every door and window, nor did what few personal effects he kept scattered around bring you much joy – a cat o’ nine tails draped over the back of the sofa, a vacant dog crate set up in the corner of the living room. There was nothing of yours, of course. Suguru didn’t really let you have interests beyond him. Anything that demanded more of your attention than needlepoint or absentmindedly nodding along to his megalomaniacal rants was deemed unsuitable and quickly done away with.

The kitchen was a little homier, but not by much. Suguru sat you down at the kitchen table before moving to the nearest counter. There was nothing on the stove, no ingredients laid out to prep, but an electric kettle simmered quietly next to a small glass container. He hummed as he worked, filling the container with scalding hot water, measuring out a cup or so of some colorless powder and mixing it in. It wasn’t until he produced a lid – thick at the base with a pink-tinted nipple spouting out of it like some unfortunate tumor – that you realized it wasn’t a container, but a bottle. For a second, it was all you could do to sit there, motionless and bewildered, and wonder where he’d managed to find a baby.

The lid was worked onto the bottle, the temperature checked against his wrist. He placed it onto the table in front of you delicately, as not to damage the glass, and your confusion immediately turned to dread.

“I… I don’t think I have much of an appetite.”

“You’ll have to try. Growing girls need their calories.” He fell into the seat next to you, tapping his knee. “Right here, honey.”

You looked toward the bottle, then to Suguru – still smiling, still unwavering. You took a deep breath, reminded yourself that there were worse things in the world than ego-death, and pushed yourself to your feet.

Dinner was a slow, effortful, and humiliating task. Suguru held you snugly, cooing out praise as he held the bottle against your lips. You tried not to think about the lack of flavor, or the way the milk clung to the back of your throat in clumps, or why he’d apparently had baby formula and a nursing bottle on-hand. The bottle was refilled once at its half-way point, then again as you neared the last few drops. By the time you finished, your stomach ached and fatigue had knit itself into the very fabric of your being, encouraging you to shut your eyes, to rest your head against Suguru’s shoulder, to fall into the repetitive sucking motion despite the knots of soreness forming in your jaw. Still, you knew better than to complain. As far as punishments went, this was relatively tame. You’d embarrassed him in front of his congregation, and he’d embarrassed you in front of the only person allowed to see you - him. Fair enough, good game, etc.

There was no pretense of autonomy by way of reward. Suguru kept you gathered in his arms – tucked against his chest as he carried you through the empty halls and balanced on his lap while drew a bath, the water hot enough to steam. You half-expected him to leave you to your own devices or, more predictably, to strip down and join you, but he just perched himself on the edge of the basin, only breaching the distance to wash your hair or lather your skin. It might’ve been nice, in another context, with a more loving partner. Under Suguru’s watchful gaze, it was hard to feel like anything more precious than a pet being groomed.

As Suguru drained the water, you realized you had to pee. Badly.

Which wasn’t surprising, on its own. You’d practically drunken half your body weight, and it wasn’t like there’d been many chances for a bathroom break pre-punishment, either. You did your best not to squirm as Suguru patted you down with towel, not to complain when he carefully removed the toothbrush from your hand in favor of shoving it past your lips himself. “You’ve already gotten in enough trouble, today,” he explained as he took your jaw in his free hand, holding you still when you reflexively recoiled. “We’d better make sure you don’t have the opportunity to do anything else you might regret.”

After what felt like much, much longer than two minutes, he let you rinse your mouth out without further intervention. When you were done, you lingered in front of the vanity, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“Do you mind if I…” You swallowed. “…if I get a few minutes alone?”

He hummed. “And why would you want to be alone, love?”

Your face burned. Suguru was always terrible, but he wasn’t normally this dense. “I, uh—Nevermind, I guess. It’s nothing.”

If Suguru noticed your discomfort, he was more than happy to gloss over it. Your usual sleepwear consisted of, on good nights, one of Suguru’s oversized shirts or, on most nights, nothing at all. Tonight, though, Suguru seemed to be in the mood to play dress-up – forcing an ivory nightgown over your head, combing the hair away from your face, tying a delicate, pale pink ribbon around your neck. It was only after he’d taken the better part of five minutes to slide a pair of perfectly white, perfectly frilly knee-sigh socks up your legs that he seemed satisfied, taking a step back to admire his work.

This must’ve been the second part of your punishment. It wasn’t as bad at the bottle, sure, but there was something about the way Suguru’s gaze burnt into you, the vague amusement playing underneath his lovestruck grin, the pressing awareness that he was enjoying this. You let your eyes fall into your lap, but Suguru was quick to correct you – cupping your cheek and tilting your head back, coaxing you to meet his gaze. “Feeling shy?” He squeezed, the gesture playful, yet forceful enough to bruise. “You certainly weren’t during my sermon.”

You opened your mouth to protest, to insist that it’d been an accident, but Suguru’s patience must’ve been growing thin. His mouth was on yours before you could get a word out, teeth biting into your lips, tongue raking over yours. You felt his hands, next – eager and groping, slipping under the skirt of your dress, kneading at your ass and thighs. You squeaked, jerking away, and surprisingly, Suguru let you, his hands settling on your waist.

“I’m sorry, but I—” For the millionth time that night, your voice seemed to catch in your throat. This time, you forced yourself to choke it up. “I really have to use to the bathroom.”

You heard him laugh, felt his mouth against the crook of your neck. “I know, honey.”

One of his hands drifted to your stomach, pressing down lightly. You tried to scramble back, but Suguru held you in-place – bringing a knee onto the mattress for better leverage. “I’m serious, it’s really—”

“I never said you weren’t.” His touch drifted to your cunt, two fingers dragging circles over your clit. For all the time he’d spent picking out your clothes, panties had been strategically forgotten. “It’s alright. I’m here whenever you’re ready.”

Your breaking point was staggeringly abrupt and humiliatingly minor. Suguru’s arm wrapping around your waist, his body turning over yours as he fell onto the mattress and dragged you on top of him. The bulk of his thigh pressed into your cunt, and something inside you split, cracked, spilled. It was too fast, too hot, too wet, and you couldn’t seem to make it stop. You clenched your eyes shut, anything not to have to see the growing yellow stain spreading across the white of your nightgown, but that didn’t save you from the warmth trickling down your legs, the puddle quickly forming on Suguru’s lap.

It was a dizzying juxtaposition; the tightness in your lower stomach as more pressure was put on your bladder, the heat pooling in your core as Suguru continued to trace aimless patterns into your clit. His mouth latched onto your throat, sucking hickeys into tender skin before dropping lower, following the curve of your breast. His lips sealed around your nipple just as his fingers fell from your clit to your pussy, thrusting into you with only the slightest hint of warning.

Suguru was never careful during sex, not beyond what it took to keep from breaking your neck when he wrapped his hands around your throat, but he was normally deliberate, normally intentional in the ways he used and contorted your body. Now, he seemed determined to curl and spread his digits with little to no regard for your pleasure, to batter his fingers into your cunt like he was trying to split you apart from the inside out. It hurt, but even worse, it was working – slick staining the inside of your thighs as you struggled to close your legs around his hand. You tried to get him away from you, to dig your nails into his shoulder and scratch at his chest, but Suguru only groaned into your chest, sucking that much more harshly.

It didn’t save you from his laugh – barking and cruel – or his hand on your stomach, palm pushing into your bladder, milking your embarrassment. “This,” he hissed, venom sharpening the edges of his infantilizing coo. “is a fucking accident. The shit you pulled during my sermon – that was a brat begging to be put in her place. Don’t try to pass off one for the other again.”

You tried to open your mouth, to spit that you should’ve clawed out his eyes when you’d had the chance, but the only noise you seemed able to make was an unsteady, trembling whine. A flood of humiliated tears escaped despite your best efforts, forming searing tracks down the length of your face, and Suguru leaned towards you, pressing a light kiss into your temple before running the flat of his tongue over your left cheek. There was no attempt at comfort as he dragged your hips against his, as freed his cock and aligned his tip with your entrance. He thrust into you as the last deposits of piss were forced out of your bladder, your mess leaking down his shaft. Suguru only moaned, twitching inside of you.

You didn’t want to cry. Really, you didn’t want to, but apparently, you’d managed to lose control of more than one of your bodily functions. Suguru crooned as the first sob broke past your lips, then another, until you were all-but wailing as he bounced you on his cock. With an artificial sort of exasperation, he lowered you gently onto the mattress, rolling his hips against yours. “Aw, baby, did I hurt your feelings?” The question was sardonic, teasing. As if both of you weren’t covered in your piss. “Here – I’ve got just the thing for delicate little princesses like you.”

Through tear-blurred vision, you watched him pull his shirt over his head and throw it thoughtlessly over his shoulder. A hand was brought to the back of your head and your mouth forced against his chest – lips smashed against his nipple. “Go ahead.” His nails scraped against your scalp. “All little girls love their pacifiers, don’t they?”

It was a wonder, how you’d ever thought you would get away with damaging his pride so easily.

It was a wonder, why you’d ever thought death was the worst thing he could force onto you.

He thrust into you, and you went limp underneath him. A whimper dying in the back of your throat, you let your mouth fall open, latched onto his chest, and started to nurse.

[ye4gerz]

‧˚⭒ pairing: jealous!bf!hyuck! x reader. ‧˚⭒ genre: smut! mentions of mark. (18+ MDNI.) ‧˚⭒ word count: 558 ‧˚⭒ cw: choking, exhibitionist hyuck, cursing, jealous/angry sex.

» read part two here.

boyfriend hyuck who has you pinned down on his bed. your legs wrapped around his waist as he lifts you up by your thighs, gripping them. his headboard rocking back and forth— hitting against the wall with every deep thrust he lets out on you. the room filled with the dirty wet sounds of his cock sinking into your insides and the lewd noises escaping your mouth.

what you forget for a second is the fact that his roommate, mark, is in the other room, sharing that same wall with donghyuck.

also, mark was home.

it dawned on you minutes ago that mark might have realized what could possibly be going on in the next room. your focus was too deep on donghyuck and his grunts against your neck, the harder he continued against you.

‘til the moment you heard mark’s door open, the sound of his footsteps growing closer against haechan’s door.

uh-oh.

you grow concerned for a second, thoughts roaming in your head. what if mark was listening to you two? what if he heard all the dirty sounds coming from hyucks room?

hyuck realizes your mind is elsewhere for a moment, and he brings his eyes to yours. “what’s the matter, baby? is everything alright?”

you nod, gulping. his concern is sweet, and the touch of his fingers against your face is reassuring. however, his thrusts never came to a stop.

you whimper and squeeze around him when you hear mark shuffling near the door.

“hyuck…” you eye the door, attempting to send the message to your boyfriend.

he looks back, a brow raised in confusion, “use your words, sweetheart.”

you look up at him desperately. he loves seeing your face scrunch up in pleasure by how he fucks you. pride washes over him knowing he’s the only one allowed to ruin you like this.

his eyes immediately snap up to yours, the minute the name escapes your mouth, his thrusts come to a full stop.

“mark…” you try to warn him, his previous thrusts so deep, your pleading sentence sounding more like a moan.

“what was that?” something dark possesses hyuck.

“m-mark…he’s listening….” you point to the door, sweating, as you felt the sudden lost of his cock inside you. you whine, missing his warmth.

suddenly his hand wraps around your throat, giving you a difficult time to take proper breaths. he slams his cock back into you deeper and harder, your eyes roll back in intense pleasure.

his hand still having a hold on your throat, only he’s cautious with the amount of pressure he applies. something dark is still living in his expression and his voice grows deeper, “don’t you ever moan another person’s name while i fuck you.”

you try to respond, unable to from the pure shock and pleasure you’re experiencing.

“fuck– respond when i talk to you. hm? do you understand?” his smile sinister, fully aware of the affect he has on you right now.

you nod your head quickly, “yes donghyuck…”

he clicks his tongue at you, “that sounds much better. now, let’s give him a good show.” he smirks, whispering against your ear. he continues to lift your legs over his shoulders again, repeatedly thrusting into your weak spot.

you lost count at how many orgasms he gave you that night, and so did mark.

[purinfelix]

── .✦ such a mess together - p. sunghoon

summary: the cute little girl you tutor is always going on about how you should date her smart, good-looking older brother, so why is your annoying, cocky classmate opening the door instead of her? ────── academic rival Sunghoon x reader || sfw, tension, can you tell i love the enemies to lovers trope LOL. || w/c: 3.5k (everyone clap jet is finally writing full length fics !!!)

a/n: ok whos shocked yet another enemies to lovers fic from yours truly - but i cant help that this trope is the most fun to write !!!!!!!

Shocked doesn’t even come close to describing how you feel right now. 

You feel as though if you widen your eyes anymore they’ll pop right out of your head, but the thought of him seeing you make such an embarrassing expression forces you to calm yourself. Slowly, he narrows his eyes, clearly not any less confused about this than you are. 

“The hell are you doing at my house?” he spits, thick brows furrowed as he looks you up and down. 

You’re about to reply with something equally as snarky, but you’re interrupted by a small head popping out from underneath his arm - which is outstretched to hold open the front door. 

“You’re here!” Yeji squeals in excitement, ducking past him to throw herself around your waist. You stumble backwards a bit, putting on her head to steady yourself as you laugh softly. 

“Hey,” you breathe out, though your eyes don’t leave those of the man in front of you, whose confusion only grows. “I’m here to tutor her,” you say curtly,  almost in disbelief that you’d have to spell it out for him this much. 

Though it’s not like you’re in much of a position to say much else because, really, you should’ve put the pieces together a long time ago. Being young and uninterested in her studies, Yeji had managed to spend most of your lessons together chatting about her life instead of doing her homework and so you had been told a lot about her - and her mysterious older brother who was rarely around because he was always busy working part-time or studying at university. At the time, you didn’t think twice about the fact that he went to the same university as you or that the times she mentioned him having exams always coincidentally lined up with yours - though now you’re beginning to think maybe you should’ve. 

Details like that were easy to forget though, especially when Yeji paid far more attention to the other details about her brother which she deemed far more important. You had spent many afternoons passively listening to her talk about how smart, sweet and tall he was, how he was “practically a prince” - all the while trying to get her to finish her algebra questions. You had even brushed it off when she mentioned that the two of you would make a good couple, and how it was a shame you had never met before. 

But Yeji couldn’t have been more wrong, because you actually had met her brother, and far more than you would’ve liked to for that matter. In fact, prior to today, Park Sunghoon had been nothing more than a nuisance in your university life. The one to constantly challenge your points in discussions, to steal your perfect front-row seat or to beat you by a singular mark in final exams. In your eyes, he was nothing but a cocky, good-for-nothing know-it-all who had been unfairly blessed with unnatural good looks which he used to trick your poor female classmates into liking him. 

All the details matched up though, times, places, hell they even had the same last name - but it had never occurred to you to put two and two together. Despite this, the shock of the initial realisation pales in comparison to the fact that you now how to continue with your lesson - whilst he sat in the next room over, glaring at you the entire time. 

You shifted in your seat nervously, eyes darting between Yeji’s exercise book and the strict gaze of her brother. Seriously, just what was his problem? - you’d never done anything to seriously wrong him, and if you did, you figured the fact that you were helping out his younger sister would be enough of a reason for him to let down his guard for once. But still, he sat there, completely uninterested in the video game he had loaded up as an obvious excuse, eyes locked on you. 

The weight of his gaze only made you more anxious and when you brought a hand up to hold your pencil you noticed the slight tremble in it. You couldn’t help but feel irritated, not just at him for being so distracting, but also at yourself for letting him get to you so easily. 

“I think he’s looking at you because you’re so pretty,” you heard a small voice mutter beside you catching you off guard. You let out a small laugh, about to calmly tell her to focus on her work but when you raise your eyes to look at her brother in the next room you notice that, for once, he’s avoiding your gaze, clearing his throat out of what almost seems to be nervousness. 

“Nice try Yeji, but I think your brother just doesn’t trust my tutoring skills.” 

She tilts her head, considering this for a moment - then with the same innocent bluntness as before, she shrugs. "Or maybe he's just grumpy because he got dumped."

A deafening silence falls over the room, and your pencil freezes mid-scratch as you glance up just in time to see Sunghoon's entire expression shift. His eyes widen for the briefest moment before his features twist into something between horror and annoyance. "Yeji," he hisses in warning, eyes shooting daggers at his sister, "shut up."

But it's too late, your interest is piqued and despite the harshness in his tone you can't help the smirk tugging at your lips at the thought of finally having some leverage against him.

"Wait," you say, tilting your head as you look at him, "Park Sunghoon ... got dumped?" 

He exhales sharply, dragging a hand across his face. "It wasn't- I didn't-" he stops himself, visibly irritated at the two of you. "That's none of your business."

Yeji, completely unaffected by her brother's obvious distress, hums to herself as she flips a page in her book. "She was really pretty too, she muses, "but she said he was too emotionally unavailable and always busy with school."

You blink in disbelief, then, unable to stop yourself, you laugh. "Shocking," your tone is dripping with sarcasm.

Sunghoon snaps his head towards you, eyes narrowing as if daring you to continue. "What did you say?"

You press your lips together, feigning innocence, but Sunghoon knows you too well for that and his glare only deepens. And for the first time, instead of just irritating you, the sight of him so obviously affected by your words is a little entertaining.

Interesting you think to yourself as you continue with the lesson, now far too aware of how the tension in the air has shifted ever so slightly. He doesn't move from his spot in the other room, or stop staring at you two, but now whenever you look up at him, instead of being able to meet your gaze he quickly looks away, pretending to be occupied with his game. You can't help but find it just a little amusing. 

Soon your lesson draws to an end and you begin to pack your materials away into your bag, thanking Yeji for working hard and listening to you - though you're interrupted by a deep rumble in the distance, followed by the sound of light rain. By the time you make it to the front door though, it's gotten much heavier and the plans you had to catch the bus home seem bleak. It isn't like you have much choice though, and you pull your hoodie over your head with a defeated sigh.

"You can't walk home in that," Yeji announces dramatically, clinging to your arm as she looks out at the heavy rain. Suddenly she perks up as if met with a great idea, and turns to her brother - who has been pretending not to listen from the living room. "Hoonie, can you drive her?" 

He barely looks up from his phone, though there's a slight delay in his response. "No."

"Why not?" she pouts.

"Not my problem," he mutters.

You roll your eyes, typical you think to yourself as you step towards the door. "It's fine, Yeji, I'll just-"

"You're seriously going to make her walk in this rain?" Yeji cries out as she walks over to her brother on the couch, "What if she gets sick? Then I'll be sad, and when I'm sad I don't do my homework. And if I don't do my homework, I'll fail and when I fail-" 

"Fine," Sunghoon groans, rubbing his temple as he pushes himself off the couch in a swift movement. He walks past you, grabbing his keys and twirling them around his finger coolly. "Get in the car before I change my mind," he says sternly.

You narrow your eyes at him and are about to deny his offer but the rain doesn't seem to be stopping anytime soon, and you're not stupid enough to reject a free ride out of pride alone. 

"Alright," you sigh, shooting Yeji one last thankful look before following her brother out to his car. 

"You live in the dorms on campus, right?" he asks casually. The rain hits the windshields of his car with a harsh rhythm, filling the silence between you two as you get in. The hum of the engine is the only other sound as he pulls out of the driveway, one slender hand lazily resting on the wheel. 

"Yeah," you say curtly, not even stopping to wonder how he could've known that. You're too busy holding a grudge against his ability to make every move seem so gracefully effortless, even turning a steering wheel. 

You sit stiffly in the passenger seat beside him, eyes fixed straight on the road ahead. You'll admit the car is nicer than you expected - spotless, the faint scent of something clean, a little floral, in the air - but you refuse to acknowledge it, just like you refuse to acknowledge that being here, alone with him, feels weirdly intimate. 

It doesn't help that he hasn't said another word since you both got in, not that you were expecting him to, but still - the awkward silence feels heavier than it should. You steal a quick glance at him out of the corner of your eye once the car reaches a red light - only to find that he's already looking at you. 

Your breath hitches for just a second, but you recover quickly in hopes that he won’t notice your reaction. “What?” you huff, raising an unimpressed brow. 

His eyes turn back to the road just as quickly, expression unreadable as the light turns green. “Nothing.” 

You sink back in your seat and the silence resumes, but with its temporary break, you feel compelled to keep up the conversation, even if it means more childish bickering. 

“I hope you don’t expect anything in return for this,” you say, turning to face forward again - but your attention piques once you hear a faint noise from him. It’s something you’ve never heard before, something just quiet enough that you almost didn’t hear it over the drumming rain, but you’re glad you did because you swear you just heard Park Sunghoon laugh. 

"When have I ever expected anything from you," he spits, but the usual malice in his tone is tinged with amusement.

"I'm just saying, don't think that just because you're doing this for me that anything's going to change," you huff, "if it weren't for Yeji you probably couldn't care less about me anyways." 

Sunghoon hums, the corners of his lips twitching as if he's holding back another laugh - he doesn't deny it, which somehow annoys you more than if he had outright agreed. Instead, he just shifts gears smoothly, eyes fixed on the road and you hate the way you find your gaze lingering on his profile for just a little too long.

"You sound disappointed," he muses after a beat.

You scoff defensively, crossing your arms. "Yeah, right." You've always hated how easily he could read you.

He just nods ever so slightly and doesn't press for more but the silence that follows feels a little different now, less tense. You shift in your seat and try to ignore the way your heart is starting to beat just a little too fast or the fact that you're waiting for him to say something. 

After a moment, he exhales, fingers tapping the steering wheel. "For the record," he sighs, his tone almost confessional, "I don't not care about you."

You crane your neck, searching his face for any sign that he's messing with you right now, a glint in his eye, his signature cocky smirk - but his expression is again unreadable. Instead, you watch the outline of his jaw shift slightly, almost as if he regrets his words, but he doesn't take it back.

You swallow nervously, unsure entirely of what to do with this new information. "Good to know," you say slowly, looking away before he can see how much that single sentence has affected you. 

As you do, you're suddenly desperate for an opportunity to change the topic. "How come this whole time I never knew you had a younger sister?"

"Well it's not exactly like you know much about my personal life," he scoffs - and you have to admit he's right.

"I mean, it's not like you're an open book or anything," you reply, "takes me ages just to figure out what you're thinking half the time with that blank expression. It's hard to believe you and Yeji are even related."

"Right because a guy my age should totally be acting like a middle school girl," he nods mockingly.

"You get what I'm saying," you sigh, going quiet for a minute as you think about what to say next. "She looks up to you a lot, you know," is what you land on, trying to balance your tone between sounding casual and earnest. 

You watch as he scoffs, and shakes off your comment with a slight shake of his head. "I'm serious," you say, "she talks about you like you're a superhero or something, even when she complains about you, it's obvious you mean a lot to her."

Even though his expression barely changes, you watch his fingers tighten slightly on the wheel - and the beat of silence before his response is enough to tell you that he's not used to hearing things like this. You find it interesting how even though you're practically complimenting him, he responds as if he's unsettled.

"Whatever, she's young and annoying," he finally mutters - though for the first time, there's no real malice to his tone, only something defensive.

"You're deflecting," you point out. This side of him, the one that's quiet and easily affected by your words, is one you've rarely gotten to see and if you're being completely honest, you're enjoying this far too much to let it go. "I think you like knowing she looks up to you." 

He huffs, clearly growing tired of your prying. "And I think you like hearing yourself talk."

You roll your eyes, but before you can shoot back with another remark, he beats you to it. "And whilst we're prying into my personal life, Yeji mentioned something interesting earlier."

You pause, suddenly wary. "Oh?"

He flicks his turn signal on, voice infuriatingly casual. "Apparently, you remind her of my ex." 

You feel your stomach lurch, followed quickly by a heat creeping up your face. "Excuse me?" is all you can manage to say.

His lips curl slightly, and it becomes clear that he only mentioned this to see your reaction. "Not in looks or anything," he clarifies, glancing briefly at you before focusing back on the road. "Personality-wise, she said you both have a way of getting under my skin."

You scoff, feeling an odd mix of feeling, irritation and something you don't really want to name. "Wow, should I be flattered or insulted?"

"That depends," he muses, "my ex was kinda terrible."

"Seriously?" you gape, shocked at how bold he's being in sharing this with you, "sounds like you're just butthurt from being dumped." 

He actually laughs - fully this time, not just the ghost of a chuckle he let out before. It's still short, and a little quiet, but for some reason it makes your chest tighten.

"Relax," he says, tone laced with amusement, "she wasn't all bad, but she did have this habit of always arguing with me, nitpicking things I did just for the sake of it."

You avoid his gaze, picking up on his signals just a little too quickly. "Sounds familiar," you mutter as you look out the car window at the rain.

You don't need to turn back to know his smirk depends, "Exactly."

The air has shifted completely now. The tension is still there, humming under the surface, but it's now covered by something else - something lighter, more playful, and charged in a way that makes you hyper-aware of how close the two of you are.

Then, just as you think the conversation is over, he speaks again - this time softer, almost absentmindedly.

"But I guess the difference is, I never really cared what she thought of me." 

It's such an offhand comment, something he's thrown out just to fill the silence. But something about it sticks to you, lingering in your mind as you nod, unsure of how to respond, and so you don't.

You spot the familiar sight of the dorms approach in the distance and even though you're compelled to feel relieved that this torturous car ride is drawing to an end - a tiny part of you can't help but feel a little disappointed that this seemingly rare opportunity is ending. Swiftly, he pulls up to the front entrance, parking smoothly and effortlessly.

As you move to undo your seatbelt, he stops you once again with his words. "Hey, I hope you're not going to stop tutoring Yeji, by the way," he's turned to face you now, but his eyes are avoiding yours. 

You furrow your brows, both at his words and his unusual expression. "Why would I?" you say slowly.

"Well, I mean, I just figured because of me and everything-" he begins to ramble, and it's the first time you've seen him stumble over his words like this.

"Relax, I hate you, not her, remember." You say it in the same teasing tone you've always used for him, but it seems to land heavier than you expected with how he turns back to face the steering wheel, his lips forming a thin line.

You linger for a moment, and something about the air between you feels different - like you're standing on the edge of something neither of you can name. Sunghoon's hand is still resting on the gear shift, his fingers drumming against the leather in a steady rhythm. 

"Right," he replies curtly, almost to himself and you can sense just a hint of disappointment in his tone.

You should leave it at that, you know you should. But something about the way he's gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly, or how his jaw is tensed ever so slightly, makes you want to press just a little further.

"Unless," you hum, tilting your head slightly, "you'd actually miss me if I stopped coming around?"

"Yeji would," he replies almost immediately - but you don't miss the way his shoulders go rigid for just a fraction of a second before he speaks.

"You didn't deny it," you smirk.

At this, he finally looks at you and there's something about the way he does it - something heavier than the usual irritation or exasperation you're used to. His gaze lingers, his expression unreadable and for a split second, you wonder if you've pushed too far. 

But then, he exhales, something softer flickering across his features before he quickly pulls them back into indifference. "Just get out of my car before I start charging you for emotional distress."

You roll your eyes, but do as he says, reaching for the door handle and pushing it open just as the rain continues to pour outside.

"See you next time, Park," you say, "and drive safe."

"Don't tell me what to do," he huffs, though there's a playful tone in his voice as he smirks at you.

You return his look, satisfied, and finally push the door shut - watching as he shifts into gear, headlights illuminating the street. You know you should get inside and out of the rain immediately but you can’t help but watch as he drives off, heart thrumming in your chest as you find the beaming smile on your face lingering. You shake your heard at yourself, almost as if to shake away your thoughts, before turning to head into the dorm. 

What you don’t see though, is the way Sunghoon glances in his rearview mirror one last time before turning away, just to catch a glimpse of you before you do.