#this idea came to mind and i just had to do it

[ds-angel1]

dealer!rafe x brainwashed!reader

cw: mention of SMUT(18+), drugs and pills, rafe lowkey runs her life (and i need that(so so bad))

a/n: drabble that i literally got from a dream (if anyone has done something like this before and i´ve just forgotten, credits to them(can never trust my dreams))

Dealer!Rafe didn’t meant to keep you. Not at first at least.

The first time he saw you, it was supposed to be nothing. Another night, another party, another girl too pretty for her good. Your denim shorts rode too high on your thighs, a spaghetti strap slipping from your shoulder like an invitation, and you looked at him like you knew exactly what you were doing. Like you had the slightest clue.

You didn’t.

He figured you’d be an easy score, a quick sell, a quicker fuck, someone to forget by morning. But then you pushed through the crowd, all honeyed laughter and half-lidded eyes, and asked him what he had. Not shy, not hesitant, but like you belonged in this world like you’d done this before.

Like you already belonged to him.

He should’ve known then. Should’ve clocked the way his pulse jumped when your fingers brushed his palm, the way his breath caught when you bit your lip, pupils already blown wide. But it wasn’t until you tossed back the pills without a second thought, no caution, no questions, that he realized what you were. Perfect.

It was a game. A pretty girl with a reckless streak, someone eager and pliant beneath him, high off whatever he fed you. But then he started learning things. About the mess you called home, the way you barely scraped by. How you were always searching, always aching for something just out of reach.

That’s when the idea took root.

Rafe could take care of you. Fix you. Own you.

So he reeled you in, slow and deliberate. He made sure you only bought from him, made sure the come-downs hit just hard enough that you came back, eyes wide and desperate. And when you started spending more time in his bed than your own, when your things started showing up at his place, one shirt, then a toothbrush, then a drawer full of clothes, you never even realized it was happening.

Until it was too late.

Until you needed him.

The day you moved in, there was no discussion, no formal agreement. Just a slow suffocation disguised as safety. He watched as you set your bags down, as your fate sealed itself with the quiet click of the door shutting behind you.

That’s when the rules became clear.

"Act up, and you get nothing," he told you, voice smooth, patient. Like he was doing you a favor. "No, ‘m serious, baby. You wanna misbehave? Then no blow. No pills. Nothin’."

And it worked.

Because when you were good, when you melted for him, hazy and pliant, when your lips parted on soft, gasping pleas when you stared up at him so far gone you barely remembered your name. Letting him do whatever his sick mind desired.

He controlled everything about you. Well he called it “takin’ care of my sweet girl.” He chose what you ate, what you wore, where you went. His own little doll.

He’d won. You were his and followed his every order, and he fucking loved it. He could turn you into a pliant free use puddle with only a few pills and puffs of whatever shit he was smoking, letting him fuck you so hard you were either almost sober or almost seizing.

Sure, your quality of life had declined rapidly since you’d met your so called “savour”, but you had structure and you had “love”. A sick, twisted, manipulative version of it, but when you were high off your mind and half naked in his bed you were able to convince yourself it was love.

[buckydeservesthebest]

Yeah, I understand the huge confusion and inconsistency within the script itself. If there are already a lot of plot holes within the plot itself, now in the story of Bucky who no Marvel executive is really fond of… 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

I agree that perhaps more than remembering the faces of all the people he was forced to kill, Bucky most likely remembered the Starks *after* watching the tape and *not* before. It is curious because it is clear that the VHS tape has no recorded sound, we don't hear the car crash nor the WS motorcycle, so that just means that what we are hearing is a flashback that Bucky is having right at that moment. I think this may be associative memory, that is, memories that manifest once an external stimulus related to that event is experienced.

Being honest, the first time I watched CW, before even thinking about whether Bucky actually remembered all the people he was forced to kill or not, I always thought that the line “I remember all of them” came more from guilt over the fact that Bucky knew he was used to hurt a lot of people, and not so much from the fact that he actually remembers all of that as such...

By the way, I find it interesting that the voices of the Starks sound like a recording, maybe it is to give the idea that we are hearing them from the tape, but again, the tape does NOT record sounds, so we can only conclude that we are watching a flashback of Bucky. Does it mean that this is how the WS hears and perceives everything? With an undercurrent of static? It's interesting because Shuri also describes the mind control Bucky was subjected to as a kind of static in the hemispheres of his brain. So this further reinforces the idea that not only did Bucky not exist as the Winter Soldier, but that the WS was all the while in a state of near unconsciousness all the time, or rather the little consciousness a person has while sleeping in REM sleep...

As you rightly say, it is somewhat complicated to say what the Winter Soldier can remember (or is allowed to remember) and what he cannot. Just as he couldn't remember Steve from his first mission in the Fury assassination, nor Natasha, Sam, etc. But he does retain memory of, for example, some skills he learned as the Winter Soldier, such as the Russian language, handling certain weapons, etc.

Well… studying a neuroscience course recently (thanks to Bucky) gave me a little insight into certain interesting things, for example like the fact that according to The Wakanda Files, Shuri says that the Winter Soldier's program is a REM sleep trance, a sort of sleepwalking in which the Winter Soldier experiences REM sleep while awake. That is, once the mind control is in use, the Winter Soldier has the brain activity of a person having REM sleep. And interestingly, this mental state is the most efficient for the brain to store and apprehend information. So if we take into consideration that Bucky would never have cooperated with Hydra to be trained as one of their agents, all the WS training would have to have occurred only when the mind control was already taken over by the WS, i.e., in the REM sleep trance. Meaning that the Winter Soldier learned in an analogous way that people who wear headphones while sleeping learn X information (such as a language), in a state not conscious but unconscious.

Interestingly, the amnesia that Bucky suffers from, anterograde, dissociative (produced by a mental health related cause, and can be triggered by traumatic events, abuse and other serious sources of psychological distress) and neurological (caused by brain damage), does not usually affect procedural memory (information about motor and executive skills), just as a person with global amnesia does not necessarily forget how to ride a bicycle. Or for example in the case of dissociative amnesia of someone who had an accident in an elevator, they forget the accident itself but do not forget to watch out for elevators.

Bucky's situation with the ETC that caused extensive brain damage, and C-PTSD, makes it really complex to be able to say precisely when he can remember something and when he cannot…

So my theory is that I totally share the idea that the Winter Soldier retains no memory other than procedural memory (that of motor and executive skills, which functions more at an unconscious level compared to the other types of memory), and not any episodic memory. That's why I believe that if he couldn't remember Steve from a previous mission, in which there were no intermediate ETC sessions, there would be no way he could remember the other WS.

I wouldn't necessarily say that the Winter Soldier remembers the period between missions as such, but rather that recognizing the whole process of being subjected to ETC is more muscle memory than anything else, and part of the programming that forces him to obey whatever his handler orders him to do.

My theory is that the Winter Soldier only follows the orders of whoever uttered the code words, just as in CW we saw him follow orders only from Karpov and not from any other Hydra agent, or just as Pierce was the only one seen giving him orders. as well as Zemo.

I think there is a reference to this in TFATWS when Zemo told Selbie that he would give her the code to control Bucky and he would do anything she wants (please, let's ignore for a moment the disgusting backstory of what that could have meant... ughh). I think if it was known that the Winter Soldier only serves Hydra, there would have been a mention that no one but a Hydra agent could make use of him.

(Yes, I'm fully aware that Spellman is totally ignorant of Bucky's history, I mean, he himself admitted that he only watched CW and EG to write the TFATWS script. But unfortunately, all the change to the known canon of Bucky, like the fact that WS wasn't active until the 1960s, so that it's now since 1951, now exists, and unfortunately we can't change it...)

Personally I do consider the tie-in books canonical, because they are all written by members of the production itself, and many times they explain certain concepts or ideas that were part of the movies or TV shows, but which we didn't realize (for example, Bucky's restraint chair in CW was constantly electrocuting him to prevent him from using his metal arm… horrible… I know…)

Of course I always take into consideration the opinions of the actors because at the end of the day, they are the ones playing the characters, especially Seb who no doubt holds Bucky in high regard. But there have been a couple of occasions where even his opinion has struck me as inconsistent with Bucky as a character, like recently in some of his interviews for Thunderbolts, he has called Bucky “anti-hero” or “antagonist”, when well… this is not true...

So, my real final theory is that Bucky only remembers (maybe not all, but a considerable amount) the faces of the people he was forced to kill as the Winter Soldier, or maybe some other vague details, but not in a lucid way but rather in the same way you remember a dream (or rather a nightmare), as a fuzzy and confused memory. And well, if we remember that all the Winter Soldier's programming is as REM sleep trance state… then I guess this makes sense…

In fact at one time, Seb also made a comment about Bucky's experience being like waking up from a dream…

Or well, if we don't get technical, and take the line “all of them” to mean not literally 'all of them', but everyone (many or few) that Bucky could vaguely remember at the time, then what Seb said wouldn't be technically incorrect either... 😬

“That line was an interesting moment. At the time, the choice I was making is that [Bucky] had realized there was no way he was getting out of there, and someone was gonna die, whether it was gonna be him, Steve or Tony. When he says that line, to me, it was a turning point — he was, like, ‘Okay, I know what you want me to say, and I’m just gonna say it.’ When someone comes at you over and over again, and they can’t hear you, they can’t see you’re pleading with them, you’re trying to figure out how to get through to them and they just won’t accept it, at some point you just give in, and you go, ‘that’s right, that’s what you want.’ Of course [Bucky] didn’t remember them all.” —  Sebastian Stan

[rafes-slut]

You send your best friend nudes on aciddent

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader (Best Friends)

Summary: you wanted ro send nudes to guy you were talking to and without even realizing you sended them to rafe. He shows up at your house and he fucks you pretty

Warnings:(Explicit sexual content (18+), Rough, raw, and unprotected sex, Best friends-to-lovers tension, Possessiveness/jealousy, Strong language, Slight dominance themes, Mentions of nudes/sexting, Brief edging/denial)

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

Your house was too quiet. Too empty. The kind of silence that made you restless, forcing you to find something—anything—to keep yourself occupied.

You had already scrolled through every possible social media feed, tried binge-watching a show, and even considered taking a nap, but nothing seemed to cure the boredom eating at you. The guy you’d been talking to—the one you had a… thing with—hadn't texted you all day, and for some reason, that only annoyed you more.

With a sigh, you plopped onto your bed, staring at the ceiling before an idea popped into your head. A reckless, stupid idea. But an exciting one.

Grabbing your phone, you opened the camera app, biting your lip as you hesitated. Then, without thinking too hard about it, you started posing, taking pictures of yourself—fully naked.

The longer you did it, the more confident you became, experimenting with angles, capturing the way the dim lighting cast shadows over your skin. By the time you finished, you were beyond pleased with how good you looked.

Your finger hovered over the screen as you scrolled through the pictures, feeling the rush of power that came with it. Maybe if you sent them to him—the guy you’d been talking to—he’d finally give you the attention you deserved.

Without another thought, you selected a few of your best shots and hit send.

The moment was thrilling. You smirked to yourself, placing your phone aside as you basked in the satisfaction of it all. You left your phone unattended for a while, assuming he’d take his time responding, so you didn’t bother checking right away.

It wasn’t until an hour later, when you absentmindedly picked up your phone to see if he had replied, that your stomach dropped.

36 new messages.

But they weren’t from him.

They were from Rafe.

Your heart stopped. Your entire body froze as dread crept up your spine. Confusion clouded your mind until you clicked on his name, your blood running cold as you read the first message.

Rafe: Tell me you didn’t just send that to me.

Your breath hitched. Your pulse pounded in your ears as you scrolled.

Rafe: Are you serious right now?

Rafe: Fucking answer me.

Rafe: Jesus Christ, what the fuck?

Rafe: Are you out of your mind?

Panic overtook your senses as you finally understood what had happened. Your fingers shook as you scrolled up, only to confirm your worst nightmare.

You hadn’t sent those pictures to the guy you’d been talking to.

You had sent them to Rafe.

Your best friend.

The same Rafe who had seen you at your worst, who had been there through everything, who—until now—had never seen you like that.

You felt sick.

Rafe: I swear to fucking God, tell me that was a mistake.

Rafe: Are you ignoring me on purpose?

Rafe: Do you even realize what you just did?

You stared at the messages, paralyzed with horror, your mind racing with what to do. There was no taking it back. No pretending it never happened.

Your phone buzzed again, and another text popped up.

Rafe: I’m coming over.

Your stomach flipped.

Oh. Fuck.

You barely had time to process the messages before loud, impatient knocking shook your front door. Your heart jumped into your throat.

Shit.

Rafe was already here.

Panic surged through you as you scrambled off your bed. You weren’t even dressed—still completely bare from your little photoshoot. With no time to properly throw on clothes, you grabbed the first thing within reach—an oversized shirt that smelled faintly of cologne. Rafe’s cologne. It was probably his shirt, one he had left behind on one of the countless nights he crashed at your place.

You barely managed to pull it over your head, the hem brushing mid-thigh, before the knocking got louder.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

"Open the damn door."

His voice was sharp, edged with something you couldn’t quite place—urgency, frustration… something more.

Taking a deep breath, you smoothed out the shirt, schooling your expression into something nonchalant. Like you didn’t just send your best friend a full spread of naked pictures. Like you weren’t freaking the fuck out inside.

You swung the door open, greeting him with a bright, innocent smile. "Hey, Rafe."

His eyes flickered over you immediately, scanning your barely covered frame. His jaw clenched, nostrils flaring. "You’re fucking joking."

You tilted your head, feigning confusion. "About what?"

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, exhaling a sharp breath before stepping inside, shutting the door behind him with more force than necessary. "Don't do that. Don't act like you didn't just—" He stopped himself, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as his eyes dragged down your body again, lingering on your bare legs.

You crossed your arms, biting back a smirk. "Didn't just what?"

His jaw ticked. "Send me those pictures."

You shrugged. "It was an accident."

His blue eyes snapped to yours, dark and dangerous. "An accident?" He took a step closer, forcing you back slightly. "Tell me, how exactly do you 'accidentally' send someone half a dozen nude pictures?"

You swallowed hard, nerves creeping up your spine, but you refused to back down. You weren’t about to let him see how flustered you were. "I meant to send them to someone else."

His expression darkened, something flickering behind his eyes at your words. His voice dropped, lower, rougher. "Yeah? Who?"

Your lips parted, but no words came out. You weren’t sure why, but suddenly, saying his name—the guy you’d been talking to—felt wrong. The way Rafe was looking at you, staring through you like he was barely holding himself together, made your stomach twist in a way you weren’t prepared for.

His fingers twitched at his side. "Who were they meant for?"

You hesitated. "It doesn’t matter."

"Like hell it doesn’t," Rafe snapped, stepping in again, this time leaving no space between you. Your breath hitched. You could feel the heat radiating off him, his chest barely brushing yours. His gaze flicked to your lips for a fraction of a second before locking onto your eyes again. "You were really about to send those to some other guy?"

Your mouth felt dry. You blinked up at him, struggling to find your voice. "It’s not a big deal—"

His laugh was humorless. "Not a big deal?" His fingers curled at his sides like he was physically restraining himself. "You seriously don’t get it, do you?"

"Get what?" You whispered.

Rafe exhaled sharply, his jaw clenched so tightly you swore he might break his teeth. Then, in one swift motion, he grabbed your chin between his fingers, tilting your head up to look at him. Your breath caught in your throat.

"Don’t ever send shit like that to another guy." His voice was low, dangerously soft. "Not when you have me."

Your heart stuttered. "Rafe—"

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head slightly like he was at war with himself. His grip on your chin tightened just enough to make you dizzy. "Do you have any idea what you just did to me?"

You swallowed, your skin buzzing under his touch. "I—"

"You think I didn’t like it?" He scoffed, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip. "You think I’m mad because I didn’t want to see you like that?"

Your stomach flipped.

He leaned in, his lips just barely grazing the shell of your ear as he whispered, "I’m mad because now I can't stop fucking thinking about it."

A sharp breath left your lungs.

His other hand trailed down, gripping the hem of your—his—shirt. His fingers brushed against your bare thigh, sending shivers up your spine.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured.

But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

The second you didn’t tell him to stop, Rafe took that as a green light.

Before you could process it, his hands gripped your waist, and in one swift motion, he lifted you off the floor. A startled gasp left your lips as he placed you on the nearest surface—the hallway counter—knocking over a few things in the process.

Your legs instinctively spread, your oversized shirt riding up your thighs, exposing just how bare you were beneath it.

Rafe wasn’t blind. He saw everything.

And fuck, he wasn’t about to pretend he didn’t notice how worked up you already were.

A dark smirk tugged at his lips as his hands slid up your thighs, fingers tracing your soft skin. "You didn’t even think about putting something on, huh?" His voice was low, teasing. "Almost like you wanted me to see you like this."

Heat crawled up your neck, but before you could snap back, his fingers were already moving.

Without hesitation, he slipped between your thighs, brushing against your slick heat. A breathy moan slipped past your lips as he ran two fingers through your folds, feeling just how wet you were for him.

"Shit," Rafe groaned under his breath. "Look at you."

Your head tilted back slightly, hands gripping the edge of the counter as he teased you, his fingers barely dipping into you before pulling away again. Your hips bucked slightly, chasing the friction, and he chuckled.

"Needy, huh?"

"Rafe—" Your voice was a quiet plea, but he wasn’t feeling merciful tonight.

He pushed two fingers inside you with ease, the stretch making you gasp. He wasted no time, his fingers curling just right, pressing against that spot that made your entire body shudder.

"That’s it, baby," he murmured, his free hand gripping your thigh, keeping you spread for him. "Fuck, you’re already squeezing me."

Your legs twitched, the pleasure overwhelming as he pumped his fingers inside you, slow but deliberate. His thumb found your clit, rubbing small, calculated circles that made you whimper.

"Bet you weren’t even thinking about that guy when you took those pictures," he taunted, his pace never faltering. "Bet you were thinking about me."

You didn’t answer, but your body betrayed you—the way you clenched around his fingers, the way your thighs trembled.

He leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours, but never closing the distance. "Say it," he murmured. "Tell me who you really wanted to send them to."

Your pride held on, but your body was already giving him the answer.

You didn’t answer his question. You couldn’t. Saying it out loud would mean admitting it—to him, to yourself. That you never meant for those pictures to go to anyone but him. That the only person you wanted to see you like this, touch you like this, was Rafe.

But your silence didn’t matter. Your body told him everything he needed to know.

You gasped, yanking his wrist, pulling his fingers out of you before you could tumble over the edge. Rafe’s brows furrowed, his fingers glistening in the dim light, but before he could question it, your hands found his waistband, tugging at his jeans.

He let out a low chuckle, but it was rough, almost breathless. "That desperate, huh?"

You ignored him, too focused on shoving his jeans down. The second they pooled around his ankles, you took a moment—your breath hitching as you took him in.

Fuck.

You already knew he was big, but seeing it—thick, hard, already leaking at the tip—had you swallowing hard.

Rafe didn’t give you time to think. He grabbed your hips, dragging you to the edge of the counter, spreading you wider. He didn’t bother with teasing or stretching you any further—he knew you could take it.

And you did.

The moment he pushed inside, a strangled moan left your lips, your hands flying to grip his shoulders.

"Shit," Rafe gritted, his fingers digging into your skin as he bottomed out in one sharp thrust.

It was rough. Raw. Deep.

He didn’t give you time to adjust—he pulled back just enough before slamming into you again, knocking the breath from your lungs. The counter rattled beneath you with every thrust, his grip bruising, his pace relentless.

"Look at you," he groaned, watching the way your body took him, how you clenched around him with every movement. "This is what you wanted, huh? Not him—me."

Your nails scraped down his back, a broken moan escaping as he angled his hips just right, hitting that spot that had you seeing stars.

"You feel that?" Rafe panted, his forehead pressing against yours. "This is mine. You're mine."

You couldn’t even argue.

Not when you were falling apart around him, your body trembling as you came, his name spilling from your lips like it was the only thing you knew.

And Rafe? He followed right after, burying himself deep, groaning your name as he spilled inside you, claiming you in every way possible.

[lascvitae]

❦ — the beginning of an era

synopsis. after landing a main role in an upcoming kdrama, y/n moves away from home to fulfill her dreams. upon arrival, it seems that her co-star has taken a newfound interest in her.

pairing. actress!minjeong x actress fem!reader genre. fluff(?) warning(s). none.

word count: 1.3k

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ katty ᥫ᭡: okay so i wanna make this a mini series and i have a few ideas in mind but if you guys have any scenarios or ideas then please don’t hesitate to send an ask!!



series masterlist.

it was around twelve pm once y/n finally landed in the heart of south korea, miles away from home for one of the first times ever.

almost a month earlier she received a call that changed her life. she had been casted the main role of an upcoming kdrama and while she had to move to a serviced apartment in the city, it was everything that the girl dreamed of doing since the age of five.

ever since that point she had starred in musicals, as background extras, side characters and even the younger version of main characters. yet with all of that experience, it felt like something was missing. something that she had just found.

the countless billboards gave her a glimpse of the bright future ahead— there were tons of famous celebrities, some who she couldn’t even name. but there were definitely a few that stood out the most.

there was jun jihyun, who owned numerous awards for her talent and not too far away was song hyekyo. everyone that y/n laid her eyes upon had a high level of fame and it filled her heart with hope for what was to come.

today was the day she would meet her co-stars and the place that she would be calling ‘home’ for the next few months.

leaning against her luggage as she patiently waited for the vehicle to arrive, a few buses passed by to pick up the other pedestrians. only one bus caught her attention.

plastered onto the side of the bus was one of the most well-known actresses in the industry — kim minjeong. y/n studied the advertisement for a lip balm with an intrigued smile. she could already see her own face on the side of a limousine bus.

minjeong wasn’t only known for her amazing performance on camera but also due to her kind-hearted nature. there probably wasn’t a single/ bad video of that girl on the internet. even if you hated some of her characters, it was impossible to hate her. though, most co-stars would mention that she is ‘slow to warm up’ and can even come off as rude or bratty at times.

a black suburban parked in front of y/n, snapping her out of her out of the mini-daydream, reminding her that it was now her turn to leave her mark on the world.

while y/n strolled her luggage towards the trunk, a man dressed in a black suit and tie cane around to grab everything for her. “let me grab this for you.” the man extended a hand, carefully taking the luggage with ease and securing it into the back. “thank you.” y/n muttered.

once he assured that his precious cargo was settled, the vehicle began to move and y/n let out a breath she had no idea that she was even holding.

all of the buildings that seoul fostered allowed a crumb of homesickness to sink in, wiping the smile clean off of her face. she looked down at her phone, seeing the message from her mother and best friend, aurora.

rory 💓

‘i miss u already 🥺🥺 u better text me everyday!!’

Sent 9:37 AM

my queen bee ❤️‍🔥

‘Don’t overwork yourself, honey. i’m always one call away if you need me. -Mom’

Sent 6:17 AM

my queen bee ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

‘I’m here to support you in any way you need.’

Sent 6:17 AM

the messages resulted in a pout and y/n decided to put her phone away before a tear could form, forcing herself to look outside of the window.

to her surprise, the car came to a stop a while ago and she hadn’t even realized it. the driver was already working at her luggage, opening up the door for her.

“thank you.” she held her purse as she eagerly stepped out of the vehicle, mouth agape from the tall building that stood before her. while y/n had achievements of her own this felt like a new key to stardom, there were even intimidating bodyguards standing at the entrance. there were paparazzi surrounding the building but it didn’t seem like they could get in.

y/n felt a rush of relief at the security system implemented.

with a singular look they granted the two of them access and they were on the way to the elevator.

the interior of the lobby was gorgeous, decorated with long chandeliers and colors along with gold that were visually perceived as expensive. almost every single intricate detail caught y/n’s eye as they settled into the spacious elevator.

“is this your first big role?” the driver, or what he seemed more like, the assistant asked y/n. she smiled nervously. “could you tell?”

he shrugged, not wanting to offend the girl. “a little bit. don’t worry, you’ll love park seonho. he’s a great director.”

her eyes nearly popped out of her skull.

she had only met the casting director so this was news to her — park seonho was one of the directors that y/n had respected the most. it gave her so much motivation for the show that she had to hold back a squeal.

once the elevator ding indicated that they had made it to her floor, y/n followed the man to her new apartment.

“um, how do these work?” she sheepishly asked as the door swung open, her mouth following quickly behind.

the apartment was huge — and it wasn’t short of how luxurious the lobby was decorated. there were more seats in the living area than y/n could have imagined herself needing, she had just moved away from her hometown after all. the only person she knew was the mother of the baby that couldn’t keep quiet in the plane seat next to hers. all she could do was gasp as they walked further inside.

“i don’t have much information on that part. your neighbor arrived about an hour ago. she’s your co-star.” he set down all of y/n’s luggage before heading for the door.

“by the way, you can call me mr. kim. i’ll be your driver for the next six months, miss y/n.” the girl bowed as he introduced himself, and just as quickly as he arrived, he had departed.

the spacious apartment building left y/n speechless and so that she couldn’t procrastinate about it later, she began to unpack all of her bags. her mystery neighbor proved to be a powerful distraction, though.

to fulfill the never ending curiosity, y/n swiftly traversed to the door adjacent to her own. with three knocks, she put on the brightest smile managable.

after a few seconds passed the door finally swung ajar and y/n wasn’t sure of what she recognized first. the short blonde hair, the rosy pink lips or the shirt that revealed a sliver of the girl’s infamous abs.

“hello.” she greeted with a bow, instantly recognizing her co-star. at this moment y/n realized that she was staring, or even gawking at this point. but how could she not? it was none other than kim minjeong.

“h-hello.” she returned the bow, blinking to confirm the girl before her eyes.

curiosity piqued, minjeong’s lips curled into an interested smile. “i’m looking forward to working with you…” she trailed off, raising an eyebrow.

“y/n.”

“y/n. perfect. i’m min—“

“i know who you are, it’s okay! i’m — um, i’m looking forward to working with you too.” the smile on her face widened. “of course.”

y/n chewed at her lower lip. “so, uh, how do these work exactly?” minjeong seemed slightly confused before she understood the question and why you were asking it. “it’s like a hotel. housekeeping will stop by every wednesday and it should already be fully furnished. at least, i hope that was the case.”

y/n wasn’t sure if she was nervous or if she genuinely found her words funny but a light hearted chuckle escaped the lips she had been nibbling at. “it was. thank you, minjeong.”

“no need.” she offered another kind smile. “you know where to find me. you should settle down.” the door closed shortly after that and y/n could feel her heart trying to escape the restraints of her chest, hitting herself in the head a few times.

“why did i stutter like that?” the whispered sentence was only audible to her as she glanced at the end of the empty hallway before hiding inside of her apartment. y/n had just made her first friend in korea. kim minjeong. one of the most talented women in the country.

and they were neighbors.

the next six months were going to be a roller coaster.

perm taglist — @saysirhc @aedollie @prologue-ae

[chrrific]

綺麗 IT’S A BAD IDEA, RIGHT? 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 & 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎

slytherin! 엔하이픈 x 𝑓. gryffindor! reader wc 2.005k ─── fluff forbidden relationship au est. relationships l’avis kissing pda pining nicknames like ‘doll’ & ‘pretty’

for : love 💌 mick’s coming back from the dead ?? this one’s for my love ai ( @jjennuine ) >< she’s mine y’all !!!! stay away 😾😾 and go support our collaboration series — lovestruck ! — @lovestruck-show-official

read more fleur

LEE HEESEUNG forbidden relationship

“y/n?”

a whisper echoed through the silent astronomy tower, the only source of light being the moon glimmering through the small window and the stars glimmering above, clearly visible through the enchanted ceiling; it wasn’t enough for heeseung’s eyes to adjust to the dark.

you tiptoed out from your hiding place, and gave him a silent wave and a smile. his lips instantly tugged up sat the sight of you, and he stepped forward, arms finding their home on the nape of your waist as he looked at you.

the look in his eyes was lovesick; wistful.

he hoped and dreamed so hard of the day when the two of you wouldn’t have to hide your relationship, and when you wouldnt have to meet in secret at night.

because this wasn’t right. slytherins and gryffindors just didn’t belong together.

the way you looked in the moonlight was breathtaking, so much so that he swears you’d put amortentia in his porridge that morning. but no, he knew you didn’t. that’s just how much he was in love with you.

PARK JONGSEONG hot boy x unnoticed

jay was the it guy of your year. girls would probably fall at his feet even if he didn’t ask them to. and for some, totally random, unknown reason, it made you almost jealous.

you could almost feel your gaze hardening whenever you saw him with another girl; a girl thats not you. I mean, it’s not like you like-liked him, right? he’s just hot. that’s all it should be, and that’s all it can.

but is that really true?

with the way he’s been shamelessly staring you down from the other end of mcgonnagal’s classroom, you’re sure he can hear your heart pounding from where he’s sat, arms crossed against his chest and gaze set on you in a way that made your breath hitch.

your gaze locked with his, the confidence in his eyes almost intoxicating.

you sighed in relief as the bell rang, snapping him out of your little staring competition before he shoved his stuff into his bag and got off his chair, almost lazily.

just as you were about to walk out of the classroom, a hand wrapping around your wrist stopped you from moving ahead.

“what class do you have next, pretty?”

needless to say, you could feel the ghosts of his fingers around your wrist the entire week.

SIM JAEYUN cocky rival

“good morning, class. today, we are going to be making the love potion known as ‘amortentia’. anyone who knows what it is?”

snape’s cold voice rang around the room, the sound monotonous. everyone knew — of course they did, they were just too scared to answer. there were only two people who were willing enough to answer his question; you and jake sim.

“ah, l/n, yes. so tell me, what is amortentia?” snape asked, shooting jake a glance from rhe corner of his eyes, as if to get him to shut up; like he wanted to see you fail, like he thought all gryffindors did.

you cleared your throat, making sure your voice was loud and clear, wanting your stone-minded, biased professor to see you shine. “amortentia is the most powerful love potion, that is characterised by its—”

you were cut off by another voice, that came from behind you.

“the scent. it is multifaceted, with the scent varying with different people”

a slight frown found its home on your lips, annoyed that jake just had to cut you off in between. “yes, professor. it’s scent.” you muttered, giving jake a glare.

“alright, since the two of you seem to know a lot about the topic, you two will be partners for the entirety of this class.”

you almost wanted to combust right then and there, from those words. why him? why not karina, or jungwon — your friends. at this point, you’d even go to the length of partnering with pansy parkinson, the slytherin girl who acts like she owns the world.

after a reluctant sigh, you shifted your things so jake could move next to you.

as you began to make the potion together, you found yourself struggling with one thing, just one; measuring the pearl dust.

it was so iridescent and was flying all over your workstation, creating a sheen layer that shone even in the dimly lit dungeon.

“need some help, doll?”

PARK SUNGHOON shy x tease

the smell of books overtook your senses as you stepped into the large library, overflowing with shelves upon shelves.

the library was surprisingly full today, and from what your eyes could catch, there was only one seat left; a seat next to a slytherin.

he was focused on whatever he was reading, and it was honestly kinda cute to you. you caught yourself staring for a moment before you got yourself out of it, reprimanding yourself inwardly for a second, before you gathered the courage to go talk to him.

“hey,” your voice rang through the somewhat silent library, even though it was relatively soft. “can i sit here?”

his eyes shifted from his book to you, before he gave a small nod.

you put your bag at the bottom of the chair, and sat down on the seat, not paying much heed to the discomfort the hard cushion underneath brought.

you pulled out a thick book on transfiguration out, starting to read it. it wasn’t like you really liked the subject like rei did, but you had to; you were very close to failing.

as you were starting to get into the book, you felt a pair of eyes on you. you glanced up, only to see said boy sitting next to you being the one looking.

he quickly looked away, pale skin undeniably flushed, staring at the table as if it was an art piece in a museum.

you smirked inwardly, before looking back at your book. maybe sitting next to a slytherin wasnt so bad after all.

KIM SUNOO sunshine x grumpy

sunoo; he just had a way with his persona. that is, he knew exactly how to trick anyone into doing absolutely anything for him, without them realising what trap they fell into.

as you tried to take a step into flitwick’s charms lesson, another person entering made you stop. you glanced behind your shoulder to see who it was, and it was sunoo — cheery smiles and all.

“go ahead,” you murmured, stepping back to let him go ahead. you were met with a too bright ‘thank you!’ before you stepped in yourself.

your eyes scanned the room, only to find that your usual seat at the back was taken already, and the last seat remaining was the one next to him. bracing yourself for the cheery sunshine-ball that sunoo was, you took a step to the desk, plopping down on the seat with your facical expression screaming uninterested.

the class began, with sunoo happily answering flitwick’s questions and taking his notes; meanwhile, you sat, barely able to keep yourself awake because of the all-nighter-study-session you did the previous night.

he shot you a glance from rhe corner of his eyes, his bangs getting in the way of his view ever so slightly. without thinking, he picked up a scrap piece of parchment, scrawling something on it in his overly near handwriting.

it was only because of the parchment being cautiously slid to you that you didn’t nod off, but the words were a bit blurry due to lack of sleep as you tried to read. yet, the second you read it, your brain immediately snapped to its senses.

“hey, you look tired. have you been sleeping well?”

YANG JUNGWON prefect x troublemaker

“another time?” his groan of frustration echoed off the walls, his fingers running through his hair. how many more pranks could you pull? well, considering your new attack, the number of times you could go again would be innumerable.

there you stood in front of his desk, slightly sheepish, but your signature smirk was still on — the one that irked him oh, so much.

“you see, your little warnings really won’t do much. in any case, they make me want to do it more.” the confidence in your tone got under his skin, causing him to look up at you with a glare, as firm as he could muster.

you couldn’t help the laugh that slipped your lips at his attempt to look intimidating, and for some odd reason, it made your heart stop slightly.

you paused, cockiness wavering for just a few seconds, before it came back stronger. “you do know that look it just making it easier to laugh at you, right?” you teased through a chortle, but the way your eyes softened a minuscule amount didn’t go unnoticed by jungwon.

and for a second, it all stopped.

the room went silent, the spirit of your laughter dying down until all that was left was a tension filled with unspoken emotion.

it only lasted a couple moments, though, before he locked back in and looked at you again, voice firm but with a hint of something else lingering at the back.

“just.. keep yourself out of trouble for a bit, yeah? you don’t wanna get yourself suspended before the school year ends.”

NISHIMURA RIKI quidditch rivals

the stakes were high, as the first slytherin vs. gryffindor quidditch match was about to begin.

niki — being the slytherin captain, and you, the gryffindor captain — had always had some sort of issue with you simply existing.

he always found ways to talk to you, always teasing and making fun of you until you’d snap and do something about it.

it just annoyed you so much; the ever-cocky smirk, the smugness layering onto his words, and the way his confident aura that made your heart stutter slightly in your chest each time you spared him a glance.

you couldn’t like him: it’s not right. you’re quidditch rivals from two different houses, and that’s all it would ever be.

but the way his gaze would trail towards you during matches, in the great hall, in the middle of classes, it all made you second guess everything you knew about him and how you felt.

the air was filled with a static kind of energy as the two teams hopped onto their broomsticks, shooting upwards into the sky as madam hooch blew her whistle.

the snitch was set free, and both your and niki’s eyes immediately locked for a moment, a hint of challenge and something else lurking beneath.

as the game went on, slytherin was winning by 130 points, and it felt like continuing to play was a lost cause. the only way you could win was if you were able to spot the sneaky little snitch.

it was all so sudden; you saw the snitch and so did he, and both of you dive bombed towards it. the next thing you knew, you were in the hospital wing with a broken arm and a pounding headache.

apparently, you and niki had hit each other in your speed, and you fell off your broom while he caught onto his somehow.

the second your eyes opened, you were met with the sight of two things; an overly bright light above your head and an apologetic niki sitting on the visitors chair next to your bed.

“hey, you feeling okay? i am so sorry about what happened.” the second he noticed you look up, trying to sit up with a disoriented and confused expression, the guilt crept back in even stronger, and he just word-vomited whatever came to mind: to hell with the so called ‘I hate you’ tag.

“o-oh, it’s fine. ill be alright.” you said, trying to ignore the fact that it felt like someone drove a drill through your skull.

yet, the guilt didn’t leave him at all.

in fact, it came back stronger, along with a weird thump in his heart.

it was probably today’s breakfast, right?

PERMANENT TAGLIST ✉️ 𐔌 ﹒ @liya07v @strvvy-anniee @flufflights @eunandonly @hannamoon143 @irasvr @ateez-atiny380 @amoressb @ikeulove @gudkc @mrsjohnnysuh @sol3chu @nerdywitchcrown @sol3chu @puma-riki @xeee334 @suhiiiies-blog @haerinheartss @layzfy @manaah02 @ijustwannareadstuff20 @enoclockz

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[v4mpire45]

Just a Dare

Other parts will be on the m.list.

☞ Link: click here.

Includes Midoriya, Kirishima, Bakugo, and Shinso.

Synopsis: You tell your best friend you're into them and get rejected, but in truth, it was just a dare.

Izuku Midoriya

It started as a harmless game of Truth or Dare with the Bakusquad. You didn’t think much of it when Kaminari dared you to confess to Midoriya. It was dumb, really. You and Midoriya were best friends. He’d probably see right through it and laugh it off.

Except, as you typed out the message, something about it made your heart race.

Maybe it was the way Midoriya had been looking at you lately. Or maybe it was the thought of how he might react, thinking it was real. Either way, you sent the text.

Midoriya apologized at least five more times, asking if things would be okay between you two. You reassured him over and over, but every time you saw him after that, he looked so guilty.

Maybe the dare wasn’t such a great idea after all.

Eijiro Kirishima

You and Sero had a dumb bet, who could get the most ridiculous reaction out of someone with a fake confession. Kirishima was the perfect target. He was so kindhearted, you knew he’d try to be as gentle as possible with the rejection.

So, while sitting across from Sero in the common room, you texted your best friend.

Sero was barely holding in his laughter as you showed him the texts. Kirishima, on the other hand, kept treating you extra carefully for the next few days, holding doors open, offering you food, and even patting your back reassuringly.

Joke’s on you because now you feel bad.

Katsuki Bakugo

“Dude, just text him,” Kaminari urged, practically shoving your phone into your hands. “I wanna see what he does.”

“You’re gonna get me killed.”

“Nah, he won’t kill you if you’re confessing.”

You had no idea why you agreed to this.

Maybe it was the curiosity. Maybe it was just boredom. Either way, you took a deep breath and sent the message.

He read your message and left you on read.

The next day, he acted completely normal, but something about his usual insults felt slightly forced, like he wasn’t sure if he should be mean to you or not. You could practically see the gears turning in his head every time you interacted.

Kaminari thought it was hilarious.

You thought you were gonna lose your mind.

Hitoshi Shinso

Mina and Jirou were ruthless during sleepovers, especially when it came to dares. So when they dared you to confess to Shinso, you barely had time to protest before they were chanting at you to do it.

Shinso was your best friend. He’d probably just roll his eyes and call you an idiot, right?

The next time you saw him, he watched you carefully like he was waiting for you to break down or something. He didn’t say anything at first, but his usual teasing was noticeably softer.

Maybe this was a mistake.

© 2025 v4mpire45 — All rights reserved. Please don't post my work as your own on any other sites.

[lvnleah]

a different path | awfc x young!reader

find the no more secrets universe masterlist here!

You woke up hot and sweaty as another wave of nausea overtook you. You threw the duvet off of your clammy body before rushing to the bathroom and throwing yourself down onto the floor. 

You crouched over the toilet, emptying the contents of your stomach as you barely made it in time. Tears slowly dripped down your cheek as you held your hair back away from your face, the thought of one thing playing on your mind. 

You were convinced that you were pregnant. 

You sat there on the cold bathroom floor, your head spinning. The nausea was unbearable, and no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that the test had been right, the doubts kept creeping in. 

Two weeks had passed since that day, and everything felt different now. Your body didn’t feel like your own. Each day, it was as if the symptoms were magnifying, the exhaustion and sickness weighing you down alongside the tenderness in your boobs that made you want to cut them off. 

You had tried to ignore it at first, hoping it would all go away, but each time you looked in the mirror, you saw someone who didn’t look like herself. Even the thought of food made your stomach churn.

You finally dragged yourself off the bathroom floor, your body heavy and sore. Staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you barely recognized the girl looking back at you. It was hard to deny it now, no matter how much you wanted to. 

It wasn’t just the physical symptoms that were terrifying, it was everything that came with the idea of being pregnant. Your career, your future, everything you’d worked for. You weren’t ready for this. You weren’t ready for a baby, and you certainly weren’t prepared to be alone in all of this.

You checked the time on your phone that had been abandoned on the ground, it read 8:08am meaning that Steph and Beth should both be up by now. Just as you grabbed your toothbrush, another wave of nausea hit you and you were back on the ground. 

Steph raised her eyebrow, giving Beth a look as they both ate their breakfast, “Do you hear that? Is that Hayden in the bathroom?”

Beth looked up from her bowl of cereal, frowning as she listened intently to the sounds coming from the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar, and the muffled noises of someone retching sent a tight knot of concern straight to her chest.

“Yeah, that sounds like H,” she replied, setting her spoon down. “I’ll go check on her.”

Steph nodded but didn’t say anything, her expression filled with quiet worry. She was used to seeing you tough it out, always keeping her emotions and struggles to yourself, but the sounds coming from the bathroom were different. 

Something wasn’t right.

Beth stood up, walking toward the hallway with a sense of urgency. She knocked gently on the bathroom door before pushing it open, her heart sinking as she saw you kneeling on the floor, your face pale and drenched with sweat. The sight of you, so vulnerable, made Beth’s stomach twist.

“Oh, kiddo,” Beth’s voice was soft, filled with concern. She crouched down beside you, gently rubbing your back, “It’s okay, H. Let it all out, yeah?”

“Steph!” Beth called into the kitchen, “Can you grab Hayden a glass of water please?”

“I… I’m fine,” you muttered, though the words lacked conviction. You wiped at her face, still not meeting Beth’s gaze.

Steph appeared in the doorway then, with a glass of water in her hand, “Here you go, kiddo. Have a sip, it’ll help.”

“Thank you.” You mumbled, taking the glass and bringing it up to your lips as your hands trembled. 

Beth frowned. “You’re not fine,” she insisted gently. “You’ve been acting strange for the past couple of weeks. And now this. Hayden, talk to us.”

Finally, you looked up, your eyes filled with tears that you tried so desperately to keep hidden. You opened your mouth, but no words came out at first. 

The silence stretched, and then, in a voice barely above a whisper, you said, “I think I’m pregnant.”

“I…I don’t know what to do,” you confessed, your voice trembling. “I’m scared.”

“But the test was negative?” Beth said, “The doctor said you’re not pregnant?”

You nodded slowly, your eyes welling up with tears as you sat back and hugged your knees to your chest. “Yeah, it was negative. But…everything feels wrong. My body feels different, and I’ve been so sick. I can’t shake the feeling that it’s true, even though the test said otherwise.”

“Oh, Hayden,” Steph sighed, sitting down in front of you, “It’s going to be okay.”

“Is it though?” You murmured, a hiccup escaping your lips, “I’m twenty, Steph. Twenty and could be fucking pregnant. My life, my career, everything is going to be over for me!”

Steph reached forward, placing a hand gently on your knee, “Hey, look at me,” she said softly, her voice steady but full of understanding. “I know you’re scared. I’d be terrified too but you’re not alone in this and you never will be. You don’t have to go through it by yourself. We’ll figure this out together, okay?”

You swallowed hard, wiping at your eyes, but the tears didn’t stop. “I can’t do this. I don’t want to ruin everything. I’m not ready for this. What if it changes everything? What if everyone thinks I’m a failure?”

“You’re not a failure,” Beth said firmly, her voice gentle but unwavering. “No matter what happens, you’re not a failure. And nothing is going to ruin everything. Your career, your dreams, none of that has to end just because you’re facing something unexpected. We’ll help you figure it out.”

Steph nodded in agreement. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now, kiddo. But whatever happens, we’re here for you. You don’t have to decide everything today.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. The panic and fear were still there, lurking in your mind, “I don’t even know if I can do this, you know?” you whispered. “It’s too big. Too much.”

You took a deep breath, “Can one of you get me a test please?”

Steph nodded, “Of course we can. How about I pop to the shop and get one, some snacks too, yeah?”

Beth nodded, giving a small smile. “And I’ll stay here with you, kiddo. No need to be alone with all this.”

You let out a shaky breath and nodded, “Thanks… I don’t know what I’d do without you two.”

Steph smiled as she stood up from the bathroom floor. “Don’t even think about that, okay? You’ve got us. I’ll be right back, and we’ll get through this one step at a time.”

As Steph left, you and Beth moved to the living room. “Take a few deep breaths,” she said softly as you sat on the sofa. “I know it’s a lot to handle, but remember one thing at a time.”

You nodded, trying to focus on your breathing. The nausea had subsided a little for the moment, but the anxiety was still there, tight in your chest. “I feel like I’m all over the place. What if it’s positive? What happens then?”

“We figure it out together like we always do. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Beth reassured you. “Everyone will support you.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, the knot in your stomach loosening just a bit. “I hope...”

Steph returned a short while later with a bag of snacks and a box of pregnancy tests. “Here you go,” she said, setting the items down on the counter. “I got you some chocolate too. You’re probably going to need it.”

You managed a small smile, feeling a bit of relief wash over you as Steph set the test down on the coffee table. “Thanks, Steph.”

The room was quiet as you sat there, the test staring back at you like it held the answers to everything you feared. With a deep breath, you slowly got to your feet and took it from the table. “Okay, I’m going to take it.”

You closed the bathroom door behind you, the silence almost suffocating as you held the test in your hand. The plastic stick seemed so small and insignificant, yet it felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on it. Your mind was racing, every possible outcome playing out like a movie in your head.

You set the test down on the edge of the sink and took another deep breath. You could hear Beth and Steph talking softly in the living room, their voices a distant comfort. The fear was still there, gnawing at you, but you tried to steady your hands as you followed the instructions.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to focus on the rhythm of your breath, to keep the anxiety at bay. But it was hard, so hard to stop the worries that flooded your thoughts. What would this mean for your future? Would your career be over before it even really began? What if everyone judged you?

After three long minutes, the timer you had set on your phone finally went off. You took a deep breath before flipping over all three tests. 

And then, there it was. 

Three positive tests. 

You felt your stomach drop as the realization hit. It was positive. 

You were pregnant.

Your eyes burned, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to spin. “No,” you whispered under your breath, feeling the tears start to prick at the corners of your eyes. “No, no, no. Fuck!”

You stared at the tests again, willing them to change, to somehow tell you that this was just a mistake, that everything would go back to normal. But it was still there. The lines are clear as day.

A knock at the door pulled you from your spiralling thoughts.

“Hey, H? You okay in there?” It was Steph’s voice, soft and careful.

You didn’t respond at first, unsure of what to say. The silence between you and the test felt deafening. But then, you managed to croak, “It—they’re positive.”

You could hear the sharp intake of breath from the other side. “Okay,” Steph said, her voice steady. “Okay, we’re here, kiddo. Just… come out when you’re ready.”

You took one last glance at the test before stepping out of the bathroom. Steph and Beth were standing on the other side of the door. 

“Hey,” Beth said softly, rising to her feet as she moved toward you. “You don’t have to say anything yet, okay? We’re here. You don’t have to make any decisions today.”

“I’m scared,” you whispered, the words coming out so small, so fragile. “I don’t know what to do.”

Beth stepped forward, wrapping her arms around you, and pulling you into a warm, comforting hug. “We’ll figure it out, kiddo.”

You collapsed into Beth as she held you close. You sobbed in her arms, tears not stopping. 

Steph rubbed your back gently, her other hand resting on your shoulder as Beth held you tightly. “Just let it out, H,” she murmured. “It’s okay.”

You clung to Beth like a lifeline, your whole body shaking. You had no idea how long you stayed there, but eventually, the sobs turned into quiet sniffles, your breathing still shaky but steadier than before.

Beth pulled back slightly, keeping her hands on your arms as she looked at you. “Come sit down, yeah? You need to drink some water.” She guided you toward the sofa, and you let her, feeling like you were moving in a daze.

Steph sat down next to you, passing you the glass of water again. “Sip it slowly,” she instructed gently.

You nodded, taking small sips as Beth sat on your other side, her hand never leaving your back. The weight of everything still felt suffocating, but at least you weren’t alone.

After a moment of silence, Steph spoke up again. “Listen, H. This doesn’t mean your life is over, okay? It’s a big thing, yeah, but you don’t have to figure everything out all at once.”

You swallowed hard, staring down at the water in your hands. “I don’t even know what I was thinking,” you admitted. “I was just getting started, you know? Football…everything.”

Steph reached for your hand, squeezing it. “And that doesn’t have to change if you don’t want it to. Loads of women have careers and families, you know that.”

“But it’s not what I planned,” you whispered, voice raw.

Beth sighed, “Life doesn’t always go to plan, kiddo. But that doesn’t mean you can’t still have the things you want. We’ll figure this out together.”

You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath, “I—I think I want to—to keep the baby.” You stuttered.

“Yeah?” Steph said, a smile peeking onto your face, “A little baby Hayden?”

A weak laugh escaped you, surprising even yourself. “Yeah,” you murmured, “A little baby Hayden.” Saying it out loud made it feel more real like the weight of the decision had fully settled into your chest.

Beth let out a small breath, her hand squeezing your shoulder. “Then that’s all that matters. You’ll be the best Mummy.”

You bit your lip, nerves creeping back in. “But how am I supposed to do this? What if I’m not cut out for it? What if I mess them up?”

Steph shifted closer, wrapping an arm around you. “H, nobody has all the answers when they start. But you’ve got us. You’ve got the team. You won’t be doing this alone.”

Beth nodded firmly. “And you’ll be a brilliant Mummy, I know it. And we’ll be the best Auntie Beffy and Steffy.”

You let out a shaky laugh, “Oh god, this poor kid.”

You let out a shaky breath, your heart pounding. The fear was still there, twisting in your gut, but for the first time since you saw that stupid test, it didn’t feel all-consuming. 

It still felt overwhelming, terrifying even, but with Steph and Beth beside you, the weight on your chest felt just a little bit lighter.

You weren’t alone and you never would be now.

[blazinbeautywrites]

Behind the Scenes

Note: Due to the rampant uprising of plagiarism on this site and others I am stating once and once only that this is my ORIGINAL work. If I find out that you have stolen/taken any part of my work I will handle you and the situation the way I see fit.

None of the pics or gifs I use belong to me unless stated otherwise. Full credit goes to the originators of said gifs and pics.

A/N: Whew I'm a lil rusty and this is my first time writing for Aaron so please bare with me.

Summary: Aaron has fallen for his co-star and has a feeling she wants him to. A night out with his favorite girl reveals just how much tension has been built up between them.

Length: 2,498 words

Genre: Fluff (kinda), smut

Aaron was irritated. His car was late, a bird shit on him, and to top it all off, he had to drop out of a role he really wanted due to a scheduling conflict. But all these little inconveniences dissipated once he heard her laughter. Kiki Davis. His beautiful and talented co-star whom he had a little crush on. When they first met she was so warm and welcoming and he immediately felt comfortable in her presence. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Her energy was quite the contrast to the dark, gory horror film they were starring in together. He began making his way to hair and makeup when he heard her sweet voice.

“Okay I see you buff daddy all big and shit in ya lil suit.” Kiki said, smiling big trying to hold back her laughter.

“Girl you play too much but you look good your damn self, spin around for me real quick.” Aaron said, staring down at her shorter frame. Kiki raised her eyebrow at his boldness. Usually he would give her a cute laugh and blush a bit but she enjoyed this more confident version of him. Doing as he asked, she began spinning, showing off her beautiful figure in her cute little dress. He couldn't help staring at her ass and the way it sat up so nice. All he wanted to do was lift her dress up and spank her. Kiki noticed the way he was looking at her and gave him a wide smile. She moved closer to him and as she felt her nipples slightly graze his chest she scaled her eyes from his wide chest, neck, lips, and finally his beautiful eyes.

“You know, if you wanted to see my ass, all you had to do was ask.” And with a wink and a smile she was gone, whisked back to hair and makeup. Aaron was stuck. His own assistant ushered him to his waiting room. He had no idea how the hell he was going to make it through this press junket.

************************

“It was the craziest thing I'd ever seen. The way they just kept slipping and sliding, it was never ending.” Kiki laughed as she recounted watching the stunt people coordinate a chase scene on set while having to run on a bloody floor. Aaron was so enamored with her he completely missed the interviewer asking him the same question.

“Aaron? You okay my man?” The interviewer laughed, causing the audience to giggle.

“Yeah, you okay Aaron?” Kiki teased. Aaron had to recover fast so he said the first thing that came to mind.

“Ummmm, I actually loved Kiki's fight scene. I feel like she gave it her all and it was nice watching how she mixed her karate and boxing training. It was really cool to watch her in her element.” Aaron said as he looked at Kiki and smiled. Kiki winked at him and that sent a shiver down his back.

“Of course you'd pick one of my scenes as your favorite. I expect nothing less from the man who's madly in love with me.” Kiki joked. The whole audience “ooooohed” and laughed at that. Aaron looked Kiki dead in the eyes, not backing down.

“And so what if I am? What then?” Aaron challenged. Kiki's smile dropped, expecting him to go shy or laugh off her flirting like he always does. She was not prepared for him to flirt back. Oh the stakes have definitely been raised.

“Oh Aaron. Trust me baby, you don’t want this smoke.” Kiki said. Aaron still wasn’t backing down.

“Kiki, Kiki, Kiki………..I want all the smoke.” He replied. The audience erupted in chaos after he said that. Aaron and Kiki stared each other down with a pure, intense lust.

“Is it me or is it getting hot in here?” The interviewer asks, earning some laughs from the audience. The interview continues with a little more light flirting and more on set anecdotes from Aaron and Kiki.  Once the interview was done, their assistants came to bring them backstage. Before Kiki can enter her dressing room, she turns to Aaron, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Sooooo some of us are going to the Moonlight Lounge. You wanna come?” Kiki asks.

“I’d love to. I have to stop home first but I’ll meet you all there.” Aaron said. Kiki watched him walk away and she knew she was in trouble. She also knew that she would definitely have a piece or at least a taste of that fine ass man, tonight.

*****************************

The Moonlight Lounge 9:02 pm

Some of the cast and crew were already a bit tipsy by the time Aaron arrived. He was amused seeing them all let their guard down. He saw Kiki and their other costar, Vanessa Leon, sitting by themselves talking and laughing. Vanessa saw Aaron before Kiki did and smirked whole making eye contact with him.

“And looked what the cat dragged in. Hey handsome.” Vanessa flirted, making Aaron smile.

“Hey V, see you've had a few drinks already.” Aaron chuckled. 

“Boy I've only had like 3 of these weak ass cocktails.” Vanessa said. Judging by her hiccups, he could tell that they were getting to her. After damn near falling over she excused herself to the restroom.

Aaron took a look at Kiki and almost lost his cool when they made eye contact. He appreciated the way her dress accentuated her curves and breasts. He could just imagine sucking on them while she rode him. 

“There you go staring off into space again. What's on your mind, pretty eyes?” Kiki asked.

“Nothing. Just thinking about how much I enjoyed working with you this past summer.” Aaron spoke. Kiki’s eyebrow rose and she gave him a wide smile.

"Awww I really enjoyed working with you too. You wanna get out of here? I’m kind of over this and I’m ready to take this dress off.” Kiki said. Aaron gave her a devilish smile and helped her to her feet. Just as they were about to walk out of the door, they saw Vanessa coming from the bathroom.

“Leaving so soon yall?” She asked.

“Yeah and maybe you should be heading out soon too V?” Kiki said.

“Oh girl I already called my man to come take my ass home.  I don’t know why I thought I could hang. I am not in my 20s anymore. But yall get home safe.” Vanessa replied.

After saying their goodbyes, Aaron led Kiki to his car. He opened his passenger door and helped her secure her seatbelt before getting in himself. He let her put her address in his navigation system and they headed to her house. After a 20 minute drive filled with sexual tension and light conversation, they’d arrived at her beautiful, secluded Los Angeles home. Aaron parked and quickly got out to open her car door. Kiki thanked him and began walking towards her gate, punching in the code. After opening her front door, Kiki let out a sigh of relief and took off her heels. Aaron followed suit, taking off his own shoes. He watched as she sashayed to her kitchen to grab them something to drink. He was so entranced by her ass that he didn’t hear her ask what he wanted to drink. 

“Aaron?” Kiki called out confused. He snapped out of it at the sound of her voice and made his way into the kitchen. He looked in her fridge and saw she had a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. He grabbed it and let her direct him to her glass cabinet and he poured them each a glass. They stood in a comfortable silence and just stared each other down. Kiki had some wild ass thoughts floating in her head that made her giggle. She took a sip and relished in the sweet taste of the cool wine. Aaron raised a brown, intrigued by her little outburst. He moved closer to her, stopping just short of her smaller stature.

“And what’s so funny Ms. Davis? He teased. He invaded her personal space, once again admiring her dress and how it clung to her gorgeous figure. He moved a piece of her hair out of her face with his finger then slowly trailed his finger down her arm. 

Kiki was stuck. All she could do was stare at him wordlessly. She got lost in his eyes and before she realized what she was doing, she’d kissed him. She pulled back quickly, embarrassed she’d let herself lose control like that.

“Shit I’m so sor-.” She couldn’t even finish her sentence as Aaron pulled her against him and kissed her back. Kiki gasped out of shock and Aaron used that opportunity to introduce his tongue to hers. Kiki was tonguing him down and he loved how sloppy it was. He tested the waters and slid his hand down to her ass, giving it a light squeeze. Kiki moaned into the kiss, spurring him on. He now had both hands on her ass and was rubbing and squeezing her to his heart's content.

“See this ass right here....it's gon get you in trouble.” Aaron spoke against her lips. Without warning he slapped both of her cheeks so hard, she just knew that he’d leave marks.

“Hmmm do it again.” Kiki purred. Aaron was happy to oblige. He gave her what she wanted and Kiki almost collapsed into his arms. She was in a state of euphoria. Aaron realized he’d accidentally unveiled one of her kinks. He would definitely be using it to his advantage. “So you like to be spanked? Hmmmm.” Aaron playfully taunted. He was in heaven. He’d finally got to see what Ms. Kiki Davis was about and he was more than ready to show her what the fuck he was about. He picked her up and sat her on her kitchen island, careful not to knock over their forgotten glasses of wine. Kiki’s was burning up on the inside. This man had her feral as hell and she couldn’t wait to rip his clothes off. Aaron was just as needy and wasted no time in pulling down the front of her dress.

“Mmmm, imma enjoy these.” He said as he latched onto her left nipple. He played with her right as he flicked his tongue against her warm flesh. Her moans were music to his ears and he loved knowing it was him that had her feeling this way.

“Yeessssss fuck babyyyyyy.” Kiki moaned. She’d never had an orgasm from nipple stimulation but there’s a first time for everything. Aaron switched sides and gave her right nipple the same treatment as the left. Once he’d had his feel, he pulled back and gave her a once over.

“You really are fucking beautiful. I’m glad I finally got you alone.” He said as he dragged his hands down to her ankles and brought them up onto the counter. He held one leg in his hand and admired her pretty lavender painted toes. She felt like he was staring into her soul as he picked up her foot and planted soft kisses on her ankle. Without warning, Kiki felt a warm, wet sensation and watch as Aaron’s tongue swirled around her big toe. He moaned and she almost came right then and there. She was enjoying the feeling of his mouth on her so much that she hadn’t noticed that he’d raised her dress up a bit and was slipping his pointer finger in her underwear.

“Oh my fucking god.” Kiki whined as Aaron’s finger circled her clit. His movements were slow and calculated as he continued to suck on her toe. The dueling sensations had Kiki feeling like she was floating on a cloud. He added his middle finger to the mix and she began grinding up against him.

“Fuck you’re so damn wet. I can hear that pussy talking to me. I bet she tastes even better than she feels.” He praised. He pulled his fingers from her underwear and put them in his mouth. He closed his eyes and savored her taste. He dipped his fingers into her entrance and collected some of her juices. He brought his fingers to her mouth and watched as she licked her own essence from her fingers. He kissed her once more and as they kissed, Kiki could taste herself on his tongue. Aaron took his spit and cum covered fingers and circled them around her nippled. He sucked her nipple back into his mouth and cleaned up his mess. He gently nudged her backwards so she could lay down on the counter. She spread her legs and felt a cool breeze on her soaked underwear. Aaron effortlessly lifted her up and slid off her underwear. He wasted no time diving into her pussy. He licked a long stripe up her center and began eating her out like a starved neanderthal.

Kiki grabbed his head and grinded against his lips, chasing her orgasm. He was breaking her down in the best way and she couldn’t get enough.

“Right there right there right there-OH FUUUUCK.” Kiki screamed. Aaron moved back and watched as she squirted. He leaned down and caught some of her juices, drinking from her as if she was his personal water fountain. He watched as she made a mess all over her kitchen, smiling smugly at his handiwork. He rubbed her thighs, helping her come down from her high. Kiki was shook. That was one of her most powerful orgasms ever and it was all because of her fine ass co-star. 

“You good Ms. Davis?” Aaron asked her, still smiling at her.

“Nigga wipe that smug ass smile off you face and help me down.” Kiki said, amused that he was so impressed with himself. After being placed on the floor, she walked to her hall closet, grabbing a big towel to clean up her mess off of her island. She knew she’d have to deep clean but tonight was not the night for that. While she cleaned up the floor, Aaron grabbed her from behind, and held her against his body.

“You know I’m not done with you right?” He whispered into her ear. She smiled and turned around in his arms. She gave him a quick kiss then pulled him towards her living room.

“Oh I know. Now go sit down so I can eat that dick up.” Kiki commanded. Aaron obeyed her and sat down on her sofa and watched as she crawled to him, stopping just short of his legs. He could just tell that she’d devour him and he was prepared to go all night with her.

He finally got his leading lady.

[winterwhisperz-blog]

Since this is ts year I’ve been wanting to get back into writing hcs for the cast! >:] this was the first idea that came to mind I hope you enjoyyy !!

How The Ts Cast would comfort You After A Nightmare

Warnings: uhhh ?? Probably ooc ?? Mentions of smoking since—Ais- a lil suggestive in vere’s but i think that’s it!!

Notes: Gn mc, fluff, somewhat of established relationships??

Leander:

Leander notices your unease before you’re even fully awake. He doesn’t usually sleep, even with your head on his chest. (Or vice versa) He relaxes in your presence, yes, but he can’t force his eyes to shut.

He feels you shift, sees your brows furrow, and knows something isn’t right.

He loves nothing more than being the first person you see after a nightmare. The first person that gets to comfort you.

He will use the fact he can touch your hands to its full advantage.

Takes them and puts his cheeks in your palms. Leaning slightly over you so you can fiddle with his hair.

Will definitely bring your hand to his chest too, “Listen to my heartbeat. I’m here. You’re here. We’re safe. You’re safe with me.”

Hm hm so sweet

Still don’t trust anything he says

Further into your relationship, you can convince him to sing to you.

His deep voice (which I’m still processing btw he did NOT give me deep voice vibes) lulls you into a peaceful rhythm. You can -feel- every note leave his chest, his hands tracing circles on your spine.

If he can get you to talk about what you dreamt about, he’d tell you that he’ll protect you from whatever is bothering you.

You can trust him to be stronger than what or who you’re frightened of. You just have to trust him.

Ais

Ahhh, comfort is not his thing. Or he doesn’t think it is.

But he understands, at least.

He knows what it’s like struggle with nightmares. I’m imagining having dreams in a hive mind is the absolute WORST

He’ll most likely tell you to get up and walk around. Probably come out and have a smoke with him. Get the night air on your face, get your mind grounded.

He’s the opposite of Leander in the sense he won’t ask what you had a nightmare about. He knows to give you space.

He will listen if you do want to talk about it though.

He’s there for you, a steady presence that is just comforting to be around. And he’ll listen for as long as you need. Or just stand by you until you’re ready for sleep again.

Will make you tea once you’re back inside, to warm you up.

“Calms the brain down.” He says as he hands you a cup.

You know he’s talking from experience.

Princess doesn’t leave your side when she notices you’re upset. She’ll put her head on your lap as you drink your tea, offering—not exactly *fur* therapy (idk what…soulless have?) but comfort nonetheless.

If you stay up the rest of the night, Ais is up with you. By the end of the night you have a blanket over your shoulders, an empty cup of tea and a small sense of ease.

Kuras

Still unsure if he sleeps? But if you’re together he won’t argue against sleeping in bed with you.

Similar in a way to Ais, in how he’ll give you a cup of tea and advise things that helps you ground yourself.

Helps you mediate, or just simply clear your mind.

He’ll hold your bandaged hands, and you can feel the warmth despite the barrier.

Soft voice telling you to find five things you can see if the nightmare sent you into a panic attack.

If you’re restless after you wake up, he’ll propose you take a night-time stroll with him.

Will ask you once what you dreamt about, with the intent of knowing how to help you, but if you don’t want to talk about it he won’t pry.

His presence is an anchor, and after just a short amount of time you’re feeling peaceful.

He will try to help you get back to sleep, as a full rest is important. And it’s surprisingly easy to slip back into unconsciousness when you lay next to him. A protective arm around you, the smell of his hair .

You know the comforting feeling of warm water on your hands when you wake up super early? Thst kinda makes you wanna dose off again? That’s the same vibe his aura gives.

Your dreams are full of light when you manage to shut your eyes again.

Mhin

Don’t have anything for this one because if I was sleeping next to Mhin nightmares aren’t what I’m having okay okay

Just kidding I have quite a few ideas 😇

Like Ais, Mhin doesn’t really know how to comfort. At least not anymore.

In fact, taking in Mhin’s character I’ll say you weren’t at the stage yet where you were sleeping together (😖💔)

My vision is this

You awake from your nightmare, panting, sweat rolling down your skin, and you just need to get out.

You go wherever your feet take you, desperately needing fresh air. The walls are too tight, the presence of strangers in the same building as you is suddenly nauseating. (Real.)

You don’t even really know where you’re going, and don’t get snapped out of your haze till you hear a familiar scolding voice. (Baby ur my angggggellll)

“I thought I told you to stay off the streets at night.”

Now whether you tell them you had a nightmare or not, Mhin still notices something’s up.

And though you aren’t at the ‘sleeping together’ stage, you are still steadily trusting each other.

Mhin takes you to the one place they know is a comfort. The alley with most of Eridia’s stray cats.

Fur therapy babyyyy !

After you spend some time with the cats, possibly opening up to Mhin, they then follow you back just to make sure ur stupid butt gets home safely.

But but hhhh

Okay okay listen, you know how Mhin knows anatomy ??

Well they also know the exact pressure points on your body that can calm down your mind.

Their… THEIR hands showing you where to PrESs hhhhr (sorry the beast is winning, I can’t control it)

A pleasant coldness against your skin, the barest touch on your neck when they show you the point under your collarbone.

Before they leave, they slip your covers over your shoulders. And when they think you’re asleep, they leave you with a gentle kiss on the forehead. ☹️

Vere

Ahhh vere vere vere…my arch nemesis…

Now okay- YOU’RE GONNA HAVE TO HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE

Soft vere 🥺

Maybe you’re at the point in your relationship when he only sleeps well when he can smell your scent, feel you near. Hear your heartbeat merging with his.

Sleeping with vere is very secure, perhaps a bit possessive, his most gentle also his most violent.

His grip is tight around you, claws sometimes digging uncomfortably into your back. Like he expects someone to come pry you out of his hands.

But his tail is also a comforting weight, gentle as he wraps it around you.

Like leander, he knows instantly when you’re having the nightmare. He lets out a growl as you shift, but it’s not at you specifically (well- maybe a LITTLE because ur kinda throwing off his beauty sleep) but more at whatever must be scaring you.

When he wakes up, notices it’s a nightmare, he feels annoyed he can’t actually fight anyone.

I’m noticing a pattern in the fact not many of the cast knows how to comfort lmaohshshsh

He may make a few flirty remarks “We could always do something to distract you, my dear.”

And hey if that works that works but I’m scared of that close of intimacy so I have a different thought in mind

Side note do you think vere is the type to use ‘my dear?’ I really can’t tell if he’s the type to use that or ‘darling’ for some reason it doesn’t fit in my eyes

ANYWAY

I do think either way he uses something to distract you. He tells you stories about his day, about his life—you honestly can’t tell if the tales are real or not.

But some of them get you laughing

…you also get to pet his ears <333

Idk if foxes purr but he does get so cozy he makes whatever the fox equivalent is.

Holds you somehow closer when you’re back asleep. And it may be silly but he can’t go back to sleep because of how angry he is that isn’t at full power.

You should have nothing to fear when you’re with him. Well, other than him himself.

If your nightmare was a product of someone who hurt you, they are now on his ‘will eat once free’ list.

Annnd there we have it !!! I hope you enjoyed !! <3 I’m still pretty rusty but hopefully I’ll get back into a small groove ! (Ignore HOW MHIN’S WAS A LIL LONGER THAN THE OTHERS.)

I hope you eat your favorite treat, see a really cool bug, (unless ur scared of them) and spot a heart somewhere in nature!

[everythingmp3]

changing her ways

adult!Van x fem!reader

when Van invites you over to her place, all she expects is just another meaningless hookup - what happens instead is that she ends up breaking her rule of never letting lovers stay over, never being romantic, never being tender, and the next morning, she doesn´t seem to regret it. not one bit.

authors note: felt like writing some more for her and used the idea of spending the morning with her after a hook-up to explore what it might look like if she met someone she actually liked during her era of "getting her needs met". hope you enjoy <3 (around 6k words)

warnings: some smut, both receiving

it had always sounded a bit cliché to you, sentiments like "love will come to you when you’re least looking for it", but there was a truth at its core, one that applied to how you and Van first crossed paths as lovers.

later on, you would come to look back and feel eternally grateful for the boredom you had felt that Friday night when you and her first met, because the only reason you ended up swiping through dating apps was that you had little else to do.

you weren’t really looking to meet up with anyone, it was more of a game to you, but then, out of nowhere, you were struck by the profile of an older woman. for a moment you hesitated but she was too painfully your type to let the chance pass you by, so you forced yourself to get over your nerves and start a chat with her. to your surprise, it only took her about ten minutes to respond, which you tried to take as a good sign, as encouragement to actually try to get somewhere with her.

Van was a dry texter, not one for chit-chat, so after a few brief words, she cut to the chase and asked you "would you maybe wanna come over for a drink?".

you werent naive, you knew that it was just a more polite way of saying "listen, I am just looking to hook up" but you didn’t mind, in fact, something about her being so forward and shameless about her interest thrilled you, it had its appeal after one too many times of wondering whether a woman was actually flirting or just being friendly - it also helped that she was older, a certain thrill to the feeling of being told "come over here" by someone who naturally held a bit of authority, simply due to your age difference. there was a faint smile of anticipation on your face the whole way over to her place, the sun disappearing behind the horizon as you entered her dark store and climbed the stairs up to her apartment.

the moment Van greeted you, not with a hug but an appreciative long glance over your figure as she stood by the counter and prepared a drink for you, it hit you: she was even hotter than expected. shockingly so. her voice immediately struck you at your core, the way she said "please, come in, sit", low and husky, an almost primal quality to the way your body reacted to her, the total conviction when you thought to yourself "I have to have her".

you tried not to stare too obviously as you waited for her on the couch but in person she was naturally much more striking than in the few photos you´d seen of her; her was outfit simple, a pair of well-fitted jeans and a white shirt, but something about the way the fabric hugged her curves made you feel warm all over when she came closer and joined you on the couch and handed you your glass. her hair fell down her shoulders in soft, thick waves and your fingers already ached with the desire to feel it, your heartbeat quicker when she finally looked at you face-on and seemed to like what she saw, undeniably so.

usually, the drink was only a polite gesture she offered people to make the transition from being strangers into having sex more smooth, with most of her lovers she had made it clear that a few minutes of talking were more than enough for her, she was not the type to dance around why she had invited someone over, but with you it was different.

Van found herself actually enjoying your company, the time passed quickly as you sat there and got to know each other a bit, there was a natural chemistry, a spark, both of you genuinely laughing here and there, getting invested in what the other person was saying, urging each other to go on, to share a bit more. the thing that caught her off-guard was that you were different than the other younger women she´d been with before.

Van tended to go for people who were of a different generation because she liked the control it gave her, the predictability of it, she was used to girls being easily flustered by her, being nervous and not really pushing back, letting her take the lead, but from the first minute you started talking, she realized: oh. this is new. she is not intimidated by me. the moment you told her "most of those tapes down there are older than me, you know", almost as if you were judging her, messing with her a bit, she thought "okay. this could be very fun" and let go of her initial fear of being with an equal.

you fell into a nice rhythm of conversation, so eventually she got you a second drink and completely forgot about her rule of keeping the people she slept with at arms length, anonymous, never asking for more details about their personal life than their first name and age. thirty minutes passed before you both remembered why you´d met up in the first place, which suddenly made you go quiet with anticipation, eyeing each other from up close and almost holding your breaths as you felt just how charged the air had become, how quickly you had managed to sink into a deep attraction to each other, a shared feeling of "I need her. badly.".

it was the first time in ages that Van felt butterflies before leaning into kiss someone, but she did, as she put her hand on your face and felt you meet her halfway to kiss her, deeply, her whole body burning with a fire that she´d long thought extinguished, but there it was, her whole face and chest flush pink from it as she held your face in both of her hands while kissing you, almost as if she was afraid you´d leave, pull back, change your mind, but you were just as eager, if not more, pressing yourself up against her and caressing her hair as you moved on the couch to be half on her lap, closer, as close as possible, her hands wandering down to your thighs to support you, her grip almost bruising in its urgency.

Van had gone a long time without indulging in that kind of sensuality, she hardly ever kissed people for longer than necessary during sex or leading up to it, but right then she remembered how much she had missed it, craved it, her hands all over you as you made out and sighed between kisses, her fingers briefly tilting your head up to allow her better access to your neck as her grip on you tightened - she seemingly wanted to devour you, which killed your ability to remain quiet or composed in any way, as you felt her thigh pressing up between your legs and let out a sound that broke down her last bit of restraint, the second she heard you moan like that for her, she pulled you up to lead you to her bedroom.

once you were both on her bed, after a frantic attempt to get undressed as fast as possible, you got lost in a neediness and desperation for each other that almost scared you, both of you shaking from how turned on you were, wet to a degree that almost hurt as you kissed and moved against each other, her eventually holding your arms down by your sides as you felt her lips and tongue, her teeth, all over your chest and stomach, over your underwear, teasing you, savoring the mess you´d made, before she went down on you like she was close to starving, which she was, after only ever allowing herself rushed and impersonal sex for too long, the kind of sex that was only focused on getting off and nothing more, you could feel it in the way she held your thighs apart and moaned from your taste, that she had not felt arousal like that in ages, and you willingly surrendered, letting her take her time with pleasing you, making you come undone, before you eagerly returned the energy, which turned into a long night of both of you taking turns again and again with helping the other person feel as good as possible, you and her both taking a deep pleasure in the way you managed to both worship and wreck each other, to be in a place of joint helplessness against the wave of desire that had swept you up out of nowhere, that left you raw and open in the most delicious way, sensitive to the smallest touch, the lightest kisses and licks, every little thing you did to each other.

in the middle of it, as Van was melting into you, against your mouth, as she felt another orgasm spreading through her already weak limbs, she thought "this is too intense, stop this, tell her to stop and leave" but she couldn´t bring herself to, you had done the thing she´d considered impossible for a stranger to mange: you´d broken down her walls. you´d made her surrender. you´d gotten under her skin, and as much as she wanted to hate it and tell herself to push you away, all she could think when she saw you look up at her with your chin and lips glistening, a tired but pleased smile on your face, was: this is what I´ve been missing.

the thing that drove you insane that night was that she was sensitive in a way you had no expected at all, you could tell that she was getting something she hadn´t in while from the way she moaned, almost in a pained manner, assuring you that she was fine when you paused to give her a moment to breathe, kissed her face and allowed her to take a second before you continued, her hands on the small of your back to ground herself as she sighed "don´t stop when I seem overwhelmed, just keep going, I want you to, okay?", which you didn´t have to be told twice, leaving both of you ruined by the end of the night before you fell asleep satisfied, tired, tangled up in the crumpled sheets, the pillows in the wrong place, and yet, a deep sense of comfort wrapped around you, Van half-conscious still as she wrapped her arms around you and forgot about her rule of sending people home, never sharing her bed. it felt right, healing in a way, to feel her lovers soft breath as she drifted off, her face close enough to you to be lulled to sleep by the scent of your skin, that she´d quickly become addicted to, a light kiss to your shoulder before sleep took her as well.

the next morning, she woke up earlier than you, so after a while of laying there, Van sat up and rested against the headboard and smiled to herself when you moved to rest on top of her. you were still half-asleep as you laid your head on her chest and savored the feeling of being heavy and limp on top of her, her body still warm from sleep, a feeling of utter ease even though you were in a strangers bed.

if anyone had told Van the evening before how she would start the next day, she would have cringed at the idea of allowing that level of intimacy, but the way you were laying there evoked a foreign mix of both affection and protectiveness in her, as she watched you and ran her palm up and down your back, slowly, eventually caressing your hair, which got a purring sound out of you that made her laugh quietly and ask "comfortable there?", a nod from you and a half-mumbled "yeah.. very.." in response as you kept your eyes closed and felt soothed by the feeling of idle, soft touches.

Van´s body felt both soft and firm under you, a strength to her arms as she held you up that contrasted the tenderness she was offering you, so it took you a while before you managed to pull yourself away and fully wake up. it hit you then that she had been sitting up for a while already, so you propped yourself up on your elbows, looked up at her and asked "wait, how long have you been awake?".

Van shrugged and said "hm, like an hour maybe?".

"what? you´ve been waiting for me to wake up for an hour??", you felt a little guilty then but she smiled and cocked her head "well, it´s not like this is torture exactly, having a pretty girl laying on me." you were charmed and gave her a little nudge before you rubbed your eyes and stretched your limbs, as Van kept looking at you and reached out caress your sides, "youre a sweet sleeper you know" she mused.

"how so?" you asked, curious then. "I was half awake when you snuggled up to lay your head here" she pointed at the crook of her neck, "kinda like kitten" she added, to tease you a bit, which made you flush and shrug to brush it off, but she went on, a bit more earnest then, "I´m not used to that.. it felt nice". from her that counted as high praise, you could tell from the way she seemed kinda shy about having said it, so you leaned in closer and grinned, "oh really? you usually kick people out after?".

you were half joking but a look of guilt settle on Van´s face, you could basically see her cringe at some of the memories that your question had brought up, so you laughed and said "oh wow", kind of amused by the idea of her being the type to tell hook-ups to leave in the middle of the night. you moved to put your hands on her shoulders and look at her more closely, stunned by her face in the daylight, her freckles that you had only vaguely been aware of the night before, briefly too enamored to speak before you asked "so, are you regretting it now, that you broke that habit and let me stay?".

Van shook her head and gave you a sheepish smile, "oh no, no quite the opposite actually" while pulling you closer, her arms tight around your back as she kissed your neck and breathed in, started feeling you up a bit, turned on by the sweet, slightly disheveled look of you, the clear difference in your ages admittedly a turn-on for her, a rush of possessiveness as she felt you submit to her touch and thought "yeah she´s mine" even though you definitely weren´t, a content "hmmm" sound from you as you ran your fingers through her hair and let her have her way.

after she pulled back, she stared into your eyes, seemingly searching for something in your expression, and smiled as she asked "I have no idea why the fuck you agree to come here last night. are you sure you´re not having some kind of crisis and I am just taking advantage of it?". the way she phrased that made you laugh before you responded "oh sure, because there no way I could have found you hot otherwise", your eyes sparkling with amusement as she nodded, "yeah, thought so", a subtle smirk that gave away that she was having flashbacks of just how into her you´d been, the things you´d done for her, with her, to her, during the night, so you used the moment of warm silence to briefly snuggle up to her again and rest your head on her shoulder.

after a moment Van nudged you and said "you´re gonna fall asleep again, huh" not displeased by your unconcealed affection, but you protested "no, no I´m good" and sat upright then. "you hungry?" Van asked as she pulled the blanket off and moved to get up "yeah, pretty hungry actually" you admitted while getting out on the other side of the bed, "good, I´ll make you something nice, come, take whatever clothes you want" she told you as she pulled on a shirt and boxer shorts, while gesturing over at her closet, so you quickly opted for a soft oversized t-shirt and some thin cotton shorts, which made her glance over at you with a mix of endearment and lust, the unfamiliar sight of someone in her clothes stirring something deep within her, yet another aspect of romance that shed missed more than she cared to admit.

once you were in her living space again, you instinctively took a seat by the counter as she started rummaging around in the kitchen and told you to sit back and let her do the work, to be her guest, briefly checking for your preferences, how you took your coffee, if you were in the mood for something savory or sweet, if you needed some water or juice or both, taking pleasure in the unfamiliar act of serving her lover something to eat.

as she moved around the kitchen, you sat with your head leaning on your hand, watching her, which she would have shut down with a "you´re staring." if it had been anyone else, but with you, in that moment, the attention was invited, you could tell from the way she carried out certain movements that she was aware of you gaze and enjoying it, playing into it a bit, a silent erotic communication between you. "are you hungover at all?" she asked you, as she put some finishing touches on the two plates she was assorting for you, so you had to suppress a laugh as you eyed her and answered "hungover? from two drinks?...".

Van shot you a glare and waved you off, "forget it. enjoy this while it lasts, its not gonna be so funny when youre my age" flipping her hair over her shoulder before turning around and getting something else from the fridge. "I can only hope to look as good as you then" you told her in a purposely overly sweet tone, batting your eyelashes at her when she turned back around and gave you another critical look, trying her best not to appear flustered, the flush on her cheeks betraying her, "easy there." she warned you, without any true heat behind the words. "you´re trouble, huh" she said, more to herself than you, as she poured the coffee and saw how pleased with yourself you looked, sitting there, taking in the view of her growing a little hot from your unwavering attention, "me?" you asked, feigning innocence, to which she only said "yeah, you miss", smiling, both amused and a little frustrated how easy it was for you to get a rise out of her, after years of her considering herself stone-cold.

after she slid the finished plates over to where you were already sitting, she walked around to join you but stopped as she stood right behind you she paused, and without thinking she followed the instinct she felt then and slid her arms around your waist from behind, rested her head on your shoulder, shut her eyes for a second. you rested your hands over hers and soaked up the unexpected sudden tenderness, the way she audibly breathed out, almost as if some ancient weight was falling off from her shoulders, which perhaps was close to the truth, something about her touch tinged with a mix of gratitude and disbelief, as if she was making sure she hadn´t just dreamed you up.

after a few seconds of allowing herself to fully drop her walls, she pulled herself away and seemed a little shy afterwards as she took her place next to you and joined you in taking a first few bites, you just smiling to yourself instead of commenting on it.

for a few minutes you ate in relative silence, both of you only then realizing how starved the hours of fucking had left you, the morning sun casting the room in a soothing hue of gold, her hair even prettier then than the night before, glowing almost. you paused your eating to look at her from the side as she wiped a few crumbs from her mouth, absentmindedly pushed her hair back, seemed a little zoned out, which gave you the chance to shamelessly stare for a while, your gaze roaming over her, settling on her mid-thighs, where her plaid boxers had moved up a bit, revealing a decent amount of her leg, the faint freckles, which reminded you of how soft her skin had felt against yours, how sexy it was to you, that she had a certain delicate quality, something girl-ish almost in certain lights, fragile even, that opposed her tough vibe, her deep voice, her aura of "don´t mess with me".

you couldn´t help but reach out to caress her thigh, while saying "you look hot like this" tracing a line down her skin, which made her turn to you and say "likewise" in a low tone, as she gave you an equally appraising look and placed her hand over yours and kept it pressed against her leg for a beat longer, a shared pang of need detectable in both of your expressions then, an electricty as you looked eyes and saw your want mirror back to yourself. you both seemed to be getting flashbacks right then as you cleared your throat and removed your hand, trying to act casual, eating a bit more, while you were both left with tingling sensations all over your body where you´d felt the other´s hands and lips the night before, the sounds and taste of it coming back to you as well, the sensations that had banished all thoughts from your mind except one word, repeating, "more, more, more".

"we were pretty eager, huh..." Van said in a barely audible tone, which made you smile and say "yeah..", remembering how you had both moaned desperately just from kissing, how you´d already come close to finishing just from grinding up against each other before actually having sex, the neediness, the way you´d abandoned all pretense and let the other one see you in a state that could be considered undignified, considering the way you´d both begged each other to be taken, devoured. it had been unexpectedly intimate for a first time, it was palpable in the way you glanced at each other then and felt almost a little smug about how well you had fit together, physically, how hot the memories were to you.

you were both quietly getting turned on again, but you managed to keep it subtle for the time being, so you gestured at the empty plates and asked "so, if you dont let people stay usually, I´m assuming this is also not a common occurence?". Van nodded and leaned in a bit as she said "yes, correct, you cheated your way into this position, played some dirty tricks on me" a tap to your forearm, a hint of amusement to her demeanor when she saw the flicker of pride in your eyes, since you did love the idea of being an exception, having her in a way few others did, or even better, nobody else.

you could tell she was thinking of something then, so you nudged her and asked "what?" genuinely curious. "oh it´s just, it´s been a while since it felt the way it did last night..." she said, a little more earnest then, so your curiosity was peaked and you turned to face her more directly, your knee briefly brushing hers, another rush of warmth that you both felt at the same time. "how so?" you asked. she drummed her fingers on the counter and thought for a second before explaining "this might sound a bit corny but I usually feel like people aren´t really seeing me, like they see a role I could play for them, if that makes sense? and sometimes that can be fun or whatever, playing the part, I am fine with that, I sought it out, but with you... I don´t know. you paid attention in a way that felt kinda intense, like you were actually trying to understand me.. you were sweet, hard to describe, but I missed that, feeling like I might like to be friends with the person I am seeing"

you understood what she meant and it flattered you, the way she´d put that, so you made as sound of agreement and said "yeah, it felt natural, easy", "exactly yes" Van affirmed, looking up at you again then, a warm smile before she added "and you know, it also helped that youre fucking hot." she briefly caressed your cheek when she saw the subtle bashfulness she´d elicited with that comment, it came out of nowhere and left her feeling exposed in her affection for you, but the way you leaned into her palm killed any instinct to reel it back in. you returned the energy by leaning over and giving her a lingering kiss, your hand on her neck, remaining only a few inches from her face when you told her "I wouldn´t have been able to tell that youre not used to all this if you hadn´t told me" which you meant, she was far from unromantic and detached with you, which didn´t match her own description of herself, the way she usually went about intimacy, so she grinned and ran her hands down your back as she whispered "well, I had some practice earlier in life".

you nodded and took in her features from up close, her pink lips, her freckled nose, the deep blue of her eyes and said "right. broke some hearts, didn´t you?", which made her laugh and shrug "maybe. got mine shattered too though, so, balances out" you could detect a truth in there, which made you wonder what exactly that heartbreak had entailed, how her life had looked, a sudden need to know much more about this woman you´d so randomly come to feel deeply connected to just within a night. "god that just made me sound old as fuck huh" she sighed and shook her head while taking the dirty dishes over the sink, which made you laugh and play along with it by saying "maybe".

since breakfast was over, you were both eager to be more comfortable again and moved to the couch, where she urged you to lay your legs over her lap, instead of sitting there all polite with them crossed, her hands immediately settling on your knees, rubbing up and down a little. Van was stunned by how easy it was for her to slip back into the physicality she had had with girlfriends, people she´d actually cared for, she realized how good it felt to just lounge around with a lover, that it came naturally to her, that her fears of it had been unjustified, it was a hard truth to accept for her but as you got comfortable with your legs sprawled out over her, she couldn´t deny that in her heart, she´d been longing for it, a girl to call her own again.

"so. are you counting down the minutes until you can leave?" she joked, which amused you, considering just how obviously you were enjoying yourself in that position, so you joked back and said "oh sure, I am clearly dying to run off". "but on a real note, do you want a ride home when you go? Id be happy to drive you home", she asked, and you appreciated the offer but the feel of her hands on you made it hard to accept it, you wanted nothing less than to leave but you also didnt wanna impose, so you tentatively said "well... I mean I don´t really need to be anywhere today, so.." hoping she´d catch on to the subtext there, which she did, charmed by your hesitation, the nervousness that contrasted the boldness you´d already shown her, a mix that she liked, kept her intrigued. "ah, I see, do you maybe wanna stay for a bit longer then?" she suggested, before she could talk herself into sabbotaging this fresh, strangely enjoyable romance shed stumbled into without even realizing at first the night before.

"yes" you said, a bit too fast, eager to accept the offer, sensing that she was also glad to have a bit more time with you, so you pushed your luck a bit and added "I mean, not to be clingy but if you want I could get some of my stuff later and stay another night? I liked sleeping with you.." you meant the actual act of sleeping, but the double meaning was also true, so you didn´t correct yourself when you realized how that had come out. Van smiled and nodded, her hands still on your legs, squeezing lightly, "yeah, me too. and you could also just use my things and not leave at all".

you shared a look of fondness as you both realized that you weren´t alone in your need to stay together for the time being, "yeah, let´s do it that way" you agreed. "but be warned" Van said, lowering her voice for dramatic effect, "you might get really fucking tired of me in like two hours. I am sure you´re used to company that´s more.. well, like you". you leaned in a bit, "like me?", Van pulled you even closer then, grabbed your arm and grinned and as she finished her thought "oh you know, young, fun, dazzling" clearly messing with you, laying it on thick, but a genuine compliment hidden in there, which made you lean closer too and brush a strand of hair out of her face as you smiled, "I´ll manage, and who knows, maybe some of it will rub off on you" teasing her a little, running your hand down her side, leaving it to rest on her waist.

"god willing" she whispered and used her strength to pull you up against her for good, sighing "come here" as she felt you adjust your position and climb half on top of her, your thighs pressing down against hers. it took her only a second to pull you in for a proper kiss, the kind you hadn´t shared yet that morning, a shared sigh as you started making out, slowly, drawing each kiss out, her hands under your shirt, yours on her neck, her taste both sweet and still lightly bitter from the coffee, faint whimpering sounds from her when you grew hungry and licked over her bottom lip, felt for her tongue with yours, felt her surrender to it, her mouth open, a sloppiness to your kisses that made it hard not to wanna do more, so once you felt yourselves growing a bit too hot too fast, you pulled back to breathe, to ground yourselves, hands still gripping each other´s shirts tightly.

you smiled at her, pleased by the sight of her flushed face, her glistening lips, and said "you´re kinda selfish you know". Van was still dazed from before but snapped out of it to respond "huh??", the offense in her tone making you laugh as you played with her hair, "all of this, so much space up here and you never let lovers stay".

"well, I am not great company usually, so, did them a favor" she uttered, her fingers tracing patterns on your back. "so, you work alone downstairs all day and then spend the nights up here alone too?", "yeah pretty much..." she admitted, aware that she lived a kind of hermit lifestyle. "how have you not lost your mind?" you asked, half-joking, which made her grin, a flicker of mischief, "who says I haven´t?" staring into your eyes as she said it.

"right, sure" you said, amused by her quick wit, acutely aware of the heat where your skin was still pressing down against hers, a subtle heat growing where only some very thin fabric was keeping you from feeling her the way you wanted to, a light shit of your position that didn´t escape her, that made her push her thigh up a bit to fuck with you, to hear the sigh you inevitably let out. "yeah don´t say I didn´t warn you later on" she whispered. "warn me? I think I can handle a middle aged loner" you retorted and pushed your hands into her hair, not very gently, payback, aware that it made her weak to be handled like that. "you don´t know the half of it, lady" she said while smiling up at you, not backing down, so you moved one of your hands to her face, tracing her scars with your index finger while asking "oh yeah? something to do with this maybe?".

"maybe" Van echoed, smug, watching you briefly get lost in the act of closely inspecting the red lines that graced her pretty face, pleased by the way she could see the wheels turn behind your eyes. in a way that was perhaps a bit twisted, it did turn her on, to know that you had no idea that she had once been feral, that she had hunted and eaten people before, that she had a capacity for animalistic behavior that surpassed what you were assuming right then, mostly because something told her that you might be the kind of girl who wouldn´t just be shocked but also a little into it, the idea of her being capable of things like that, she´d just known you for a night, but she was nearly certain that the reaction she could get out of you would be priceless.

"tell me then, what dark secret are you keeping?" you asked her, your nose almost brushing hers from how close you were, her breath hot against your lips as she shook her head "lets maybe go on a date first before I spill that to you, hm". "this isn´t a date?" you asked, feigning ignorance, pretending to be a little disappointed, so she laughed "no, this is what you´d call a hookup, sorry to say sweetie" a faux act of consolation then, a few light slaps to your upper thigh. "but" she added "we can turn it into a date". you moved a bit then, to sit next to her again instead of on her, your hand reaching for hers, unwilling to let go of her. "when´s the last time you´ve been on one? do you remember how to behave?" you teased, which earned you a shove in the side "very funny, yes I do recall".

"okay, what do you wanna do today then, hm?" you asked, elbow propped up on the couch to look at her while resting your head against your arm. "oh lets see" she said, while tilting her head back for a second, looking at the ceiling as she felt her fingers laced through yours and thought about it. "we could enjoy the sun, walk around for a bit, go to this nice cafe I know for lunch, its really fucking good" you nodded, more than happy to spend your day like that, but before you could say anything about it, she beat you to it by moving closer to you, snaking her arm around your waist, and saying "but before all that... I think we should go back to bed for a while" an authority, a determination to he tone then that made your face feel hot under her unyielding gaze. "yeah, agree..." you said and pushed her back against the couch cushion to grope her, out of nowhere, a self-satisfied grin when you heard her groan "fuck" from the feel of your fingers digging into her chest over her shirt, "you´re so sensitive" you teased, not letting up, kissing her cheek as she grew needier by the second, "yeah and you´re relentless" she uttered, briefly submitting to your force before she used the position she was in to move her hand down your shorts, only to tease, but the second she brushed over you, the whine you let out told her: keep going. she wants more.

so she held you close as she used the other hand to tease you, not fully jerking you off, but playing with you, moving her fingertips up and down, feeling some of the wetness that had gathered, using it to press down against your clit and draw achingly slow circles as you clung to her, eyes shut, hips jerking a bit to meet her hand, nodding, your lips parted as you sighed "please dont stop..". Van took the chance to kiss your neck, to have you fully melt against her, her fingers adding some more pressure as you grew soaked for her and tilted your head to the side to let her kiss all the way up to your jaw, faint sighs as she breathed in your scent, got high on the feeling of having you that pliant and soft for her, so receptive, whispering sweet things to you as it took you no time at all to feel a climax go through you, less intense than the ones you´d had the night before, but still, enough to leave you weak and wanting more, much more. her fingers were still on you, drawing out some last few jolts of pleasure, as you leaned in to her ear and sighed "I wanna feel you... I wanna feel you come against me..".

"jesus..." Van groaned at the thought, since that was another thing that she´d stopped allowing herself, anything like tribbing was off the table with hookups, since she knew how much she enjoyed it when she was really into someone, how sensitive to that sensation she was, how easily it could turn her into a whimpering mess, but she couldn´t deny you, not then, not while still feeling your mess all over her fingers and already growing wet herself from the thought of having your cunt pressed up against hers, for a torturous amount of time, she wanted it to hurt, to be too much almost, so she nodded, her voice cracked with lust as she said "yeah.. yeah okay, come", pulling you up from the couch to have fantasy become reality as fast as possible.

you both quickly undressed and settled back into her bed, her sitting back against the pillows as you tried to find the best angle and moved her leg up to put yours under it, adjusting your hips until you both moaned in agreement when you found the right spot. you were both turned on enough to a point where you didn´t need spit or lube to make yourselves slick enough, your arousals mixing as you started grinding down against her and saw her shut her eyes, trying her best not to sound pathetic, while already feeling like she might lose her mind just from watching you move against her like that, hearing you whimper from it, since it felt even better than expected, an intensity to the feeling of your cunts almost making out in a way that left you weak in the most maddening way.

Van was happy to just sit there and grab your waist in support as you trapped her in a way, made her submit to your pace, the way you rubbed yourself up against her, that delicious sense of helplessness that she had always craved in bed, which you could tell from the way she shook and uttered broken up phrases between her moans like "god.. don’t stop..." and "so fucking pretty...", watching you in awe as you purposely drew it out and waited until she was close to finishing to join her and feel your orgasms hit you at the same time, eyes locked as you rode it out and were both left wrecked and breathless from it.

after you moved down from her, you could tell that she was still somewhat riled up, so you touched her where she was slicked up from both your and her own cum, moved your head down to lick over her chest and suck on one of her tits, as you felt her hold your head in place, almost as if to prevent you from stopping, to make you keep her sensitive flesh in your mouth, and drew out another high, a follow-up one that was less intense but just a needed extra release, a pleased smiled on her face after you finally moved away and laid down next to her, a barely audible "fucking hell…" that made you feel a rush of pride.

after a minute of satisfied silence, you both turned to look at each other from the side and mirrored the action of tracing each others outline, your leg draped over hers, a the room warm and quiet, the morning sun casting long shadows on the floor, over your figures.

Van was the first to speak again, "thank god you were reckless enough to come to some strangers house without even facetiming or calling before. that was kinda risky you know.." a hint of respect in there for how bold you´d been.

you smiled and answered "well. it paid off. and I am done with all that for now, so, no danger there". Van´s eyes lit up when she registered the subtext there and inquired "oh yeah?" to hear it confirmed, that you wanted to keep seeing her, only her. "yeah" you whispered and caressed her arm, "me too" she said, relieved that the days of meeting strangers for meaningless sex might just be coming to an end, that she was entering a new era, that romance was slowly entering her life again, the doors to it opened by your hands.

there was a deep sense of ease in the air then, neither of you were able to stop smiling from it, you didn´t have to say a thing to know what the other was thinking:

this is only the very beginning. I can´t wait to get to know you. all of you.

[chokkzou]

PART. 2 ! continuation of the discovery of the bllk boys being your cute submissives(?

characters: isagi, reo, nagi, bachira, hiori, ness and kaiser.

tw?: top! male reader x sub! bllk. I don't speak English so sorry if there is any mistake or idk.

link to the first part !

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ Meguru Bachira has always been touchy, flirty, and incredibly unfiltered when it comes to expressing himself. He likes physical closeness, he likes teasing, and he definitely likes testing your patience just to see how far he can push before you snap.

What he didn’t expect, though, was that you’d be the one to turn the tables on him.

At first, it was subtle. You’d mirror his teasing, getting just a little too close when he leaned in, lowering your voice when speaking into his ear, resting a hand on his knee absentmindedly while talking to someone else. And he thought he could handle it—he really did.

But then, one day, you trapped him.

It was after a match, the adrenaline still running high in his veins. He was rambling excitedly about his dribbling, gesturing wildly, until you suddenly stepped in front of him and pushed him back against the lockers.

"you talk too much, Meguru," you murmured, voice deep, smooth, teasing.

And oh, he completely short-circuited.

His breath caught in his throat, his usual confident grin faltered, and for the first time, he had nothing to say. You watched as his hands twitched slightly, as his eyes darted between your face and the space between you two—like he was trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

And the best part? He secretly loves every second of it.

That’s when you realized: Bachira loves being overwhelmed. He thrives on intensity, on unpredictability—but when you throw it back at him? He’s defenseless.

Since then, you’ve made it a habit to catch him off guard. Pinning his wrists down when he gets too hyper, suddenly leaning in during a casual conversation, whispering things too close to his ear just to see him stammer.

And the best part? He secretly loves every second of it.

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ Yo Hiori is cautious with his feelings. He’s quiet, observant, and doesn’t open up easily. He likes to keep a sense of control over his emotions, over how much he allows himself to feel—because if he lets go, he’s scared he won’t know how to stop.

Then you came along, and he had no idea what to do with himself.

You didn’t push him. You didn’t demand answers. But you were patient, understanding, and so effortlessly sure of yourself that it made him uneasy in the best way possible.

The first time he realized just how much your presence affected him was when you pulled him into an embrace without hesitation. No warning, no second-guessing—just firm, solid arms around him, grounding him in a way he didn’t even know he needed.

And he completely froze.

Not because he didn’t like it, but because he liked it too much.

After that, you started testing the waters. A hand on his nape when he was overthinking, a casual arm draped over his shoulders, fingers lacing through his when he got lost in his thoughts. And each time, he melted a little more.

One day, you pulled him by the wrist, guiding him effortlessly through a crowded hallway. It was such a small action, something most wouldn’t think twice about—but to Hiori, it was everything.

He barely registered the way his breath hitched, the way his steps fell perfectly in sync with yours, the way he didn’t even think about resisting.

That’s when it hit him: he didn’t mind being led.

In fact, with you? He wanted to be.

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ Alexis Ness is obsessive when it comes to the things he loves. He gives himself completely, without hesitation, without restraint—so when it comes to you, he’s no different.

At first, he thought it was normal. You were his favorite person, after all. Of course, he’d do things for you, of course, he’d be eager to please. But then he started noticing things.

Like the way his pulse quickened when you commanded him without thinking. The way his body reacted before his brain could catch up whenever you gave him an order.

"Ness, come here." And he’d move before even realizing it.

"stay close." And suddenly, he was standing so near that he could feel your body heat.

One day, you casually murmured, "good boy."

And that was the moment he completely lost it.

His entire body tensed, a sharp inhale cutting through the air, his fingers instinctively curling as a shiver ran down his spine. He didn’t even mean to react that way, but you saw everything.

You smirked. He wanted to die.

But worse? He wanted to hear it again.

And that’s how you discovered just how easy it was to break him.

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ Michael Kaiser is cocky, arrogant, and always in control. He loves playing games, being the one to dictate the pace, to have people wrapped around his finger.

But with you? it's different.

It started subtly—small challenges, little battles of dominance. He’d push, you’d push back. He’d provoke, you’d match his energy effortlessly.

At first, he saw it as a game, a battle of wits. But then you started winning.

You’d tug his chin up slightly when he got too smug. You’d lean in too close when he challenged you, never breaking eye contact. And one day, during a particularly heated argument, you grabbed his jaw and tilted his head up, forcing him to look at you.

"be good for me, Michael." And he forgot how to breathe.

His usual sharp retorts? Gone. His smirk? Completely wiped off his face. All that confidence? Replaced with something dangerously close to surrender.

That's when you knew. Kaiser loves to be dominated.

He’d never admit it, of course. But every time you take control, every time you put him in his place, every time you murmur something too smooth, too firm, too certain—he breaks.

And the worst part? He doesn’t even try to fight it.

[jamiehe4rtsmen]

⁹ can't believe i get to call you mine

୨ৎ

"you see that girl over there?" schlatt leans on the counter, pointing towards you across the deli shop, who was squinting at the menu (you forgot your glasses at home and were suffering the consequences).

the underpaid employee blinks. "yeah."

schlatt lights up, a dumb grin settling on his face as he lets out a giggle. "that's my girl. can you believe that?"

"wow... so, what kind of sandwich do you w—"

"i mean, that's like, the definition of pulling above your league. am i right?" he pushes his elbow into the cashier gently, like they were best buds who were catching up after a long day.

"for sure. what kind—"

"i asked her yesterday, and she actually said yes! can you believe i—"

"give me your fucking sandwich order."

his video had now garnered 9.9 million views, titled "the bit went too far". it started off as an apology video, apologinzg for something vague, until you walked into frame and chirped "hey babe, whatcha doin'?" in the video, schlatt whipped his head around and hissed, "shh! what if they see you? i'll lose like, all my revenue from my woman audience!" your eyes widen and you giggle conspiratorially, walking out of the frame. schlatt turns around, facing the screen, and shrugs awkwardly before the video cuts off. all thirty seconds of it went absolutely viral.

right after this video was posted, unpaid intern came out with its first episode. a specific clip mentioning you went viral.

"so, after everything that's happened today, how are we feeling? like schlatt, we all know you've got a girl back home." ludwig transferred the microphone from himself to schlatt.

he grumbled, "what's it t'ya?"

"well, are the two of you thinkin' about kids?" a grin broke out across ludwig's face.

schlatt's poker face was immaculate as he shrugged. "well, so far the two of us have been trying to keep her tamagotchi alive more than anything, so once we deal with that first... we'll think 'bout it. but i don't mind the idea."

the kids burst out into the classic teasing chant of, "schlatt and his girlfriend kissing in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G—"

"alright, alright! cool your little jets, kiddos." he groans, ruffling their hair.

on his new minecraft server, he was talking about you (as always). he killed a few sheep and made you a pink bed, placing it quite literally right next to his. he made a little sign that said "for my girl" and side eyed chat before quickly scrambling to add a little "<3" at the end, but when his chat teased him for it he scoffed, gaslighting to the thousandth degree. "psh.. no, chat. you guys are seein' things."

he'd added a new dono goal (which he reached in under an hour), which read "STREAM W/ THE MISSUS." he begrudgingly kept his word, booting up a just chatting stream titled "q&a with woman."

chat had fed him important questions to ask, like your name and hobbies, but he purposefully picked out the most funny one. straight-faced he looked at you and loudly proclaimed, "would you still love me if i was a blue ford f-150?" to which he got a hesitant, "...yes, but would i be like... carsexual then?"

he had also been caught and clipped glancing at his phone during streams and chuckling to himself, his cheeks flushed. sometimes he would even turn his phone to chat to show that toots 💕 texted him "saw a pineapple can at the grocery store next to a lawnmower and thought of you"

"ah. shakespeare's got nothin' on my girl. bill can suck a cock." he sighed, clearly lovelorn as he chuckled to himself.

sometimes chat would tease him with donos such as "blink twice if you need help" or "dating above your league final boss"

but his favorite thing was when someone on twitter tagged him in a photo of you and a man talking to each other, captioned "@/jschlatt, i'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but i saw your girl at a restaurant with this guy. dm me if you need emotional support 😘 xoxo"

schlatt was sent this tweet on stream, and burst out laughing. he laughed so hard he burst into tears, then he called you in the room with a mock-serious voice. "babe, jschlattsleftsock on twitter—"

"x, the everything app," you jokingly interrupt him.

he rolls his eyes, clearing his throat and grumbling, "not fuckin' calling it that. anyway, she said that you cheated on me with this guy." he burst into laughter as he showed the photo of you and the guy.

you burst into laughter two, but in between laughs you wheezed, "that's— my older brother— oh my gosh! and the xoxo at the end, the girl is shameless!"

chat, when they realized the truth of the situation, calmed down and started laughing too. you and the guy did look eerily similar to anyone with a pair of eyes, and it became a bit between the two of you and chat.

୨ৎ

divider credits @issysh3ll

[lila-lou]

✨Age gap crush - Pt. 1/2✨

Summary: Jensen froze—biggest age gap crush? Jared smirked, already knowing the answer. Because Jensen didn’t do attachments. But with you? He already had.

-requested-

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language

Word Count: 6341

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 🩷

The hotel room was quiet, except for the faint hum of traffic outside and the soft rustling of sheets behind you. Stepping out of the bathroom, steam curled around you as the cooler air of the room brushed against your damp skin. The towel wrapped tightly around your body felt like the only barrier between you and the weight of his gaze.

Jensen was lying on the bed, one arm tucked lazily behind his head, the other resting against his bare stomach. The soft morning light cast shadows over his toned chest, highlighting the ridges of muscle beneath his skin. His green eyes, sharp and amused, traced you slowly—like he had all the time in the world.

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Well, good morning to me”, he murmured, voice thick with sleep and something else—something that sent a shiver down your spine.

You tightened your grip on the towel, swallowing the warmth creeping up your neck. “Enjoying the view?”, you muttered, trying to sound unaffected.

He chuckled, low and husky, shifting slightly but never breaking his gaze. “Oh, absolutely. Best way to wake up”.

Your stomach twisted at the way he was looking at you—like he knew exactly what he was doing, exactly how flustered you were.

You cleared your throat, the towel still clutched tightly in your grasp. "I thought you'd be gone by now", you muttered, eyes flicking toward the digital clock on the nightstand—but the numbers blurred together. You had no idea what time it was.

Jensen’s smirk deepened. "Didn’t have the heart to leave you just yet", he drawled, stretching out like he had no place to be, no convention to rush off to. "Besides, you looked too damn peaceful earlier. Didn’t want to wake you".

You scoffed, rolling your eyes to mask the way your stomach flipped. Peaceful wasn’t the right word. Wrecked, maybe. Spent.

Last night had been… intense. The kind of night that left your body sore in the best possible way, your mind hazy, your legs barely functioning by the time he'd finally let you rest. And now, standing here, the memory of his hands, his mouth, his body pressed against yours—it all came rushing back so vividly you had to fight the urge to squeeze your thighs together.

Jensen noticed. Of course, he did. His eyes darkened, amusement flickering beneath them like he was reading every damn thought in your head. "You okay there, sweetheart?". His voice was smooth, teasing.

You huffed, turning toward the dresser for something—anything—to distract yourself. "I don’t even know what time it is", you admitted, your voice quieter this time. "You really should be gone. The convention—".

"Still got time". His voice was lazy, like he didn’t have an entire schedule waiting for him. "And you really think I’d leave without a proper goodbye?".

This—whatever this was—wasn’t supposed to feel so dangerous. The two of you had set the rules from the start. No public outings. No red carpets. No standing in any kind of spotlight.

After all, he had enough attention on him—especially after the divorce. He didn’t need the world picking apart his personal life, and neither did you. It worked this way. Just the two of you, in stolen nights like this.

But mornings like this? Where he stayed longer than he should, watching you like you were the only thing worth his time?

Those were the moments that scared you.

And when Jensen sat up, his bare chest shifting with the movement, his smirk softening into something almost… fond, you knew you were in trouble.

"C´mere", he murmured, patting the space beside him.

You swallowed hard. You should tell him to get dressed, to go. To remind him of the agreement.

But your body had other plans.

And Jensen knew it, too.

You hesitated as you reminded yourself what this was supposed to be. Casual. Private. Simple.

But Jensen made it impossible to keep things simple.

The way he looked at you—like he had all the patience in the world, like he knew you’d give in before you even did—was downright dangerous. You hated that he was right.

Slowly, reluctantly, you moved toward the bed, stopping just short of where he was sitting. His gaze flickered down to your legs, still damp from the shower, before dragging back up to meet your eyes. He reached out, fingers ghosting along the edge of your towel, not tugging—just there—a silent invitation.

"You’re thinking too much", he murmured, voice low, rough from sleep.

You let out a small, breathy laugh, shaking your head. "Maybe because I should be thinking", you shot back, but you didn’t step away.

Jensen’s smirk returned, but there was something softer beneath it. Something more dangerous than the teasing. "Tell me you don’t want me here", he challenged, his hand resting on your hip now, warm and steady. "And I’ll go".

You parted your lips, inhaling as if you were actually about to say the words. You knew he’d keep his word. He always did.

But you didn’t want him to go.

You wanted this—the way his presence wrapped around you, the way his voice sent shivers down your spine, the way his hands on your body made everything else disappear.

That’s what scared you the most.

Jensen tilted his head, waiting. Not pushing, not rushing. Just waiting for you to be honest with yourself.

And you hated that you broke so easily.

Instead of answering, you exhaled shakily and let your knee press onto the mattress beside him, crawling up just enough for him to lean back slightly, welcoming you. His hands slid up your thighs, warm and familiar, but his eyes never left yours.

"That’s what I thought", he murmured, pulling you onto his lap, your towel slipping just enough for his fingers to dip beneath it.

Your stomach clenched. "You’re an ass", you muttered, but there was no bite to it.

Jensen chuckled, his lips grazing your jaw as his grip tightened, anchoring you to him. "Yeah, but you like me anyway".

And you hated that he was right about that, too.

Your breath hitched the moment you felt it—him—hot and hard beneath you, pressed insistently against the thin barrier of your towel. A sharp contrast to the teasing smirk still tugging at his lips, like he wasn’t fully acknowledging just how much you could feel him right now.

But he knew. Of course, he knew.

Your hands instinctively gripped his shoulders, fingers pressing into the warm, firm muscle beneath your palms. He was still naked, still radiating heat, and the moment your hips shifted—just the slightest bit—the friction sent a sharp pulse of heat straight through you.

Jensen groaned softly, low in his throat, his hands tightening around your thighs. "Shit", he muttered, voice raspier now, thick with something that wasn’t just amusement anymore.

You swallowed hard, pulse thrumming against your skin. "You should be getting ready", you murmured, though your voice lacked conviction, breathless as it was.

Jensen hummed, tilting his head, his lips brushing your jaw, his stubble rough against your sensitive skin. "Mmm. Could say the same for you", he countered, his fingers toying with the edge of your towel. "But here you are. On top of me".

Your stomach flipped, your thighs squeezing instinctively around his waist. He was right there, and your body knew it, heat pooling low in your belly, thighs already aching from the way last night had left you.

His hands slid up, tracing the curves of your waist beneath the towel, moving slow, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world. "Y’know", he murmured against your skin, voice dropping lower, rougher, "if you’re really worried about me being late, maybe you shouldn’t be sitting on my dick right now".

A sharp exhale left you, your fingers flexing against his shoulders. "Jensen—".

"What?". His lips ghosted over your neck, fingers finally gripping your hips properly now, rolling you against him just enough to make your breath catch. His cock pressed right where you needed it, even through the towel, and suddenly, your brain short-circuited.

You weren’t sure who moved first—if it was him guiding you, or your own body betraying you—but the moment your hips rocked, the friction made your nerves spark, made heat flood your core.

Jensen groaned again, this time deeper, almost gritted, his fingers pressing bruises into your skin. "Yeah", he muttered, breath warm against your ear. "Exactly".

You hated how easily he ruined you. Hated how you didn’t stop, how you didn’t want to stop.

"Fuck you", you breathed, but you were already rolling your hips again, chasing that slow, delicious friction, the warmth pooling between your legs unbearable now.

Jensen laughed, the sound vibrating against your throat. "You already did, sweetheart", he teased, nipping just below your jaw. "And by the way you’re moving? You’re about to do it again".

With a sharp tug, the towel was gone, slipping from your body and pooling somewhere on the sheets beneath you. A rush of cool air ghosted over your skin, but it did nothing to quell the heat burning between your thighs.

Jensen's hands were everywhere—firm, claiming—gripping your waist, sliding down the curve of your back, fingers pressing into your hips like he was anchoring himself. His green eyes darkened as he took you in, his gaze flickering from your lips to the bare expanse of your chest, down to where your bodies were about to connect.

“Fuck baby”, he muttered, his voice thick with something between admiration and desperation. “You’re gonna kill me”.

One hand slid between your bodies, guiding himself to where you were already dripping, already throbbing for him. The swollen head of his cock nudged against your entrance, teasing, pressing, the sensation enough to steal your breath.

Jensen sucked in a sharp inhale. "Fuck—you're still so sensitiv from last night", he groaned, his voice strained now, his fingers tightening their grip on your waist.

Your stomach clenched at his words, your thighs trembling around him. "Maybe if you hadn’t—". You gasped as he pushed in just a little, stretching you open with maddening slowness. "Hadn’t wrecked me so hard, I wouldn't be".

Jensen let out a low, breathy chuckle, but his control was thinning—you could see it in the way his jaw tensed, feel it in the way his fingers flexed against your hips. "Oh, sweetheart", he murmured, his other hand sliding up your side, palming your breast before his fingers curled around the back of your neck, tugging you down. "That was barely me wrecking you".

And with that—he pulled you down onto him, fully, completely, stretching you inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt inside you.

A ragged gasp left your lips, your body clenching around him, adjusting to the sudden, overwhelming fullness.

"Ouw—", you choked out, nails digging into his shoulders.

Jensen groaned, his head falling back against the pillows for a moment, his fingers gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. “Fuck, baby. Look at you”. His voice was wrecked, strained with restraint, with the effort it took for him to not move just yet.

Your breath shuddered, your body trembling at the way he filled you, at how perfectly he stretched you. Every inch of him throbbed inside you, heat coiling at the base of your spine, your thighs quivering where they straddled his hips.

"Jensen", you breathed, barely able to form words, your nails dragging down his chest.

That was all it took.

His fingers flexed against your waist, and then he moved.

A slow, deliberate roll of his hips that sent blinding pleasure spiraling through your core.

You whimpered, your hands flying to his chest for support, but he didn’t stop, didn’t give you a chance to catch your breath. He lifted you just enough before pulling you back down, forcing you to take every inch of him, again and again, harder, deeper, until the only thing spilling from your lips were broken, gasping moans.

"Fuck, that’s it", he gritted out, watching the way your body took him, the way your back arched, your mouth parted in pleasure. His grip on your waist tightened as his hips snapped up, meeting you with every downward roll, sending sharp jolts of electricity through your veins.

"You feel so good", he growled, his voice raw, his fingers possessive as they dug into your skin. "So fucking tight. Like you were made for me".

Your head tipped back, pleasure burning through you, your body already starting to tremble. The grinding, the pace, the deep, deep thrusts—it was too much, and not enough all at once.

"Jensen—". His name spilled from your lips like a plea.

He grinned, though it was more of a snarl, his control slipping. "That’s right, sweetheart. Say my name while I ruin you again".

And he did.

Jensen's grip tightened as he slammed up into you, pulling you down to meet each thrust, forcing you to take him deeper, harder, rougher. The stretch was overwhelming, the pleasure devastating, your body reduced to nothing but fire and sensation as he filled you over and over again.

Your fingers clawed at his chest, nails dragging against the firm ridges of muscle, desperate for something—anything—to ground you. But there was nothing to hold onto. Nothing but him.

"Jensen". His name left your lips in a gasping, broken moan, your head tipping back as your body clenched around him.

He groaned, the sound wrecked, his hands sliding from your waist to your thighs, lifting you slightly before slamming you back down onto his cock. "Fuck—just like that", he muttered, his breath coming ragged now, but his pace never slowed. If anything, he was getting rougher.

Pleasure shot up your spine, white-hot and blinding, your nerves on the edge of snapping. Every thrust hit deep, hitting that spot that had your toes curling, your stomach clenching, the coil inside you winding impossibly tight.

Jensen noticed. Of course, he did.

"Shit, you’re close already", he rasped, voice thick with pride, with something dangerously close to obsession as he watched you, completely undone on top of him.

You whimpered in response, your nails digging into his skin, your thighs starting to tremble.

He smirked—dark, satisfied, in control—as he sat up suddenly, one arm wrapping around your waist, the other gripping your jaw. His lips crashed against yours, swallowing your moans as he thrust up, sharp and precise, stealing the last bit of composure you had left.

"You gonna come for me, sweetheart?", he murmured against your mouth, his breath hot, teasing. His hand slid down between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles that had you shattering within seconds.

The orgasm slammed into you with a force that left you breathless, your body tensing, then shaking apart, pleasure pulsing through every nerve ending. A strangled cry tore from your throat as you clenched around him, waves of heat rolling through you as he kept fucking you through it, dragging it out, making you feel every second of it.

"That’s it", Jensen groaned, voice gritted, strained, his hands bruising as he held you still, as he thrust up one last time, burying himself deep. A guttural sound tore from his throat as he spilled inside you, his whole body tensing beneath you, pleasure rolling through him in hot, shuddering waves.

For a moment, the world spun, the only thing grounding you was him, his grip on you, his breath ragged against your skin.

Silence settled between you, thick and heavy, the aftermath still buzzing in the air. Jensen didn’t move, still buried inside you, his arms still wrapped around your body like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

And maybe—just maybe—you weren’t either.

But the moment couldn’t last.

He sighed against your neck, pressing the faintest kiss to your damp skin before finally leaning back, his hands gentler now, smoothing over your sides. "If I wasn’t late before", he muttered, voice still rough with exhaustion and satisfaction, "I definitely am now".

A weak laugh escaped you, your forehead dropping to his shoulder. "That’s your fault", you murmured, your body still tingling from the aftershocks.

Jensen chuckled, but instead of answering, he slid his hands up your back, slow, lazy, his fingers tracing soft patterns against your skin.

And that? That was what scared you the most.

Not the sex. Not the sneaking around.

But this—the way he lingered, the way he touched you even when he didn’t have to. The way he stayed.

Because deep down, you knew…

You were breaking all your own rules.

The loud pounding at the door jolted you from the haze of aftershocks and warmth, panic surging through your system.

“Ackles!”, Jared’s voice boomed through the room, followed by another aggressive set of knocks. “We’re fucking late! Get your ass out here!”.

Your entire body stiffened, still perched on top of Jensen, still connected, your thighs sticky, your skin hot from the lingering heat of what had just happened.

Jensen groaned dramatically, his head falling back against the pillow, one lazy hand brushing over his face. “Fuck, Jared”, he muttered, completely unbothered, like he hadn’t just fucked you into oblivion and left you a trembling mess.

Your eyes widened, panic gripping your chest. “Oh my God—”. You scrambled, instinct taking over, hands bracing against Jensen’s chest as you tried to get off him, but his grip tightened.

“Not so fast, sweetheart”. His voice was low, smug, his fingers digging into your waist just enough to make you shiver.

Your heart slammed in your chest. “Jensen—he’s right there!”, you hissed, eyes flicking frantically to the door as Jared knocked again, harder.

“Jensen! If you don’t open this damn door in ten seconds, I’m coming in! I will use my keycard, asshole!”.

Jensen just smirked, his other hand trailing down your thigh, so slow, so possessive, like he wasn’t at all worried about getting caught.

“Let him”, he muttered, his voice gravelly, his hips rolling up just a fraction, making you gasp, clench around him involuntarily.

Your stomach flipped, a sharp pulse of pleasure shooting through you even as your mind screamed in panic.

“You’re insane”, you whispered sharply, shoving at his bare chest, your pulse racing, the heat of him still inside you, still filling you so perfectly.

Jensen laughed, low and smug, but he finally released you, letting you scramble off him just as another aggressive knock rattled the door.

You stumbled, nearly falling, your legs still weak, your thighs still aching from the way he’d ruined you minutes ago. You barely managed to grab your discarded towel, wrapping it around yourself in record time as you bolted toward the bathroom doorway, trying to make yourself invisible.

Jensen, meanwhile?

Completely unbothered.

He stretched slowly, rolling out of bed with a lazy ease that made it clear he wasn’t in any kind of hurry.

Another pounding knock.

“Jensen!”.

Jensen rolled his eyes, dragging a hand down his face, clearly in no rush to deal with the six-foot-four nuisance on the other side of the door.

Little did you know, Jensen had already told Jared about you a couple of days ago. He’d expected this moment, knew it was only a matter of time before you got caught sneaking around.

But seeing you panic like this?

Adorable.

So, he let you squirm.

He smirked to himself as he tugged his shirt over his head, deliberately taking his time, knowing full well that you were still pressed against the bathroom door, heartbeat racing, eyes wide with the kind of panic he found way too entertaining.

Another pounding knock.

"Jensen! Open the damn door, or I’m—".

Finally, finally, Jensen swung it open, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the frame, giving Jared a bored look.

"Jesus, Padalecki", he muttered. "Ever heard of patience?".

Jared’s eyes narrowed, already looking pissed as hell, his gaze flicking over Jensen’s still-rumpled appearance—messy hair, swollen lips, trunks thrown on in a half-assed attempt to look presentable.

Jared’s brows lifted.

"Oh", he muttered, crossing his arms. "You definitely weren’t sleeping".

Jensen just grinned. "Didn’t say I was".

Jared squinted, eyes flicking past him into the room. Jensen angled his body slightly, blocking just enough of the view to keep you hidden, even though—let’s be real, the entire scene was screaming of exactly what had happened.

The unmade bed. The disheveled sheets. The fucking smell.

Jared let out a long, slow sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. "Dude".

Jensen smirked, playing dumb. "What?".

Jared’s lips twitched, like he wanted to laugh but was too annoyed to let himself. "You serious right now?".

Jensen shrugged. "Look, man, if you’re mad I didn’t invite you, just say so".

Jared grimaced, shoving his shoulder. "Oh, fuck off".

Jensen chuckled, but before Jared could barrel past him into the room, he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just enough.

"Don’t be a dick", he murmured. "You already know who’s in there".

Jared stilled.

His brows shot up, just slightly, before his expression shifted—less annoyed, more intrigued.

"Oh, so you finally told her I know?".

Jensen’s smirk deepened.

"…Not exactly".

Jared let out an exasperated groan, dragging his hands down his face. "You’re such an asshole".

Jensen grinned, clearly having way too much fun with this. "Yeah, but I’m your asshole".

"Unfortunately", Jared muttered, shaking his head. He peered past him again, curiosity flickering behind his eyes. "So, are you gonna let her out, or are we pretending she doesn’t exist?".

Jensen chuckled, finally turning his head toward the bathroom.

"Sweetheart?". His voice was sickeningly amused, way too pleased with himself. "You gonna come say hi, or you planning on hiding in there all day?".

You froze, heart pounding, throat suddenly dry as hell.

Jared knew?

Jared fucking knew?

And Jensen never told you?!

You were going to kill him.

Slowly.

You exhaled sharply, gathering yourself, before stepping out of the bathroom, towel still wrapped around you, your face heating instantly when Jared’s knowing gaze landed on you.

Jared blinked.

Then, with zero hesitation, he smirked.

"Oh". He nodded, fighting back a laugh. "Yeah. That definitely tracks".

Jensen’s grin widened, watching the way you glared daggers at him before crossing your arms, clearly one second away from launching something at his head.

"You knew", you said flatly, eyes locked onto Jared.

Jared snorted. "Oh, yeah. Jensen spilled days ago. Thought you knew".

Your eyes snapped back to Jensen, murder flashing behind them.

"You are so fucking dead".

Jensen grinned like a bastard, completely unbothered.

"Yeah, yeah", he murmured, stepping closer, hands slipping around your waist as he pressed a slow, teasing kiss to your temple, just to piss you off more. "Still worth it, though".

You swore you saw red.

And Jared?

Jared just laughed his ass off.

Eventually, Jared shifting his weight before casually holding out his hand toward you.

"Well", he said, smirking, "since we’re not pretending you don’t exist anymore, I guess I should properly introduce myself—".

But before you could take it, his expression shifted, realization hitting him like a freight train. His hand hovered in midair for a second before his face twisted in horror, and he yanked it back.

"Actually, you know what—never mind". He grimaced, shaking his head, his face scrunching up like he just walked into something disgusting. "I just remembered exactly what you two were doing before I knocked".

Your face flamed, heat rushing to your ears as the memory of exactly what had just happened surged through your mind.

Jensen, meanwhile?

Losing his damn mind.

He let out a loud, unrestrained laugh, gripping his stomach as he leaned against the doorframe, fully enjoying the absolute mess unfolding in front of him.

"Wow, Padalecki", he mused, mockingly wiping a fake tear from his eye. "And here I thought you were all about bonding".

Jared shot him a flat look, clearly unamused. "Yeah, I’m good, thanks. No need to get that close".

Jensen just grinned, slinging an arm lazily around your shoulders, pulling you closer as his fingers toyed with the edge of your towel—just to mess with you.

You immediately tensed, glaring up at him. "Jensen", you hissed through clenched teeth, shifting slightly, hyper-aware of just how little was covering you.

He winked, voice dropping.

"Relax, sweetheart", he murmured, lips brushing your ear, "not like Jared hasn’t already figured out how thoroughly I just fucked you".

Your entire face ignited, heat rushing through you so violently you had to physically shove him away.

"Jensen!", you sputtered, barely resisting the urge to smack him.

Jared groaned loudly, rubbing his temples. "For the love of God, can we go now?".

Jensen let out a dramatic sigh, rolling his shoulders like getting up and leaving was the biggest inconvenience in the world. "Yeah, yeah. Just lemme grab a shower real quick", he muttered, stretching. "Need to get her off my body first".

Your face somehow got even hotter, and Jared immediately threw up his hands.

"NOPE", he declared, turning around so fast it was almost cartoonish. "I refuse to hear another goddamn word. I will be downstairs, waiting, pretending none of this ever happened".

And just like that, he was gone, muttering something under his breath as he disappeared down the hall.

The second the door clicked shut, you spun on Jensen, smacking his arm hard enough to make him chuckle.

"You are such an asshole", you snapped, mortified beyond belief.

Jensen just laughed, stepping closer, hands gripping your waist again.

"Yeah", he murmured, pressing a slow, teasing kiss to your lips, "but you like me anyway".

Only ten minutes later, Jensen was moving around the room, hastily buckling his belt, his shirt slightly wrinkled, his hair damp from the world’s fastest shower.

You were still sitting on the bed, still half-naked, towel barely hanging onto you, watching him with a mix of amusement and exhaustion.

"Never seen you move this fast", you teased, tilting your head as he grabbed his SnapBack off the dresser and shoved it on backwards, clearly prioritizing speed over style.

Jensen shot you a look, smirking. "Yeah, well, someone made me late", he murmured, pointedly, as he reached for his watch—

Only to realize you had already picked it up.

You held it out lazily, wrist dangling over the edge of the bed, watching as he stepped closer, his fingers brushing yours as he took it.

That little touch—as brief as it was—made your stomach flip, and suddenly, you were too aware of the way he was looking at you.

Like he was thinking about throwing you back onto the bed all over again.

Like he was debating if being late was really that big of a deal.

You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady. "Better hurry, or Jared’s gonna come back up here and kick the door down".

Jensen exhaled sharply, reluctantly strapping the watch onto his wrist, still smirking like a bastard. "That man needs to take a breath. It’s not like they’re starting without me".

"You mean the convention where thousands of people are literally waiting for you?".

He shrugged, completely unbothered, but then his eyes flicked back to you—still sitting there, still wrapped in nothing but a towel, still looking too goddamn tempting for your own good.

His smirk turned dangerous.

"You’re really not making it easy to leave, sweetheart", he muttered, fingers trailing lightly along your bare thigh, like he was considering being just a little later.

Your breath hitched, body still sensitive from before, but you quickly swatted his hand away, sending him a warning glare.

"Nope". You shook your head. "You’re already late because of me. I am not responsible for you missing your flight next".

Jensen chuckled, hands up in mock surrender, but you could see it—the way he hesitated, the way he looked at you like he wanted to stay just a little longer.

And that?

That was dangerous.

Because you couldn’t let this become more than what it was.

So you forced a smirk, tilting your head as you leaned back against the pillows, stretching slightly.

"Besides", you murmured, voice laced with mock innocence, "I think you’ve had more than enough of me for one morning".

Jensen’s jaw ticked, his smirk faltering just for a second before his gaze darkened, his fingers twitching like he wanted to reach for you again.

But instead, he exhaled sharply, shaking his head with a grin, before taking a deliberate step back.

"Yeah, we’ll see about that", he muttered, winking before turning toward the door.

And as he grabbed his keycard and slipped out, leaving you alone in that messy, wrecked hotel room—

You had a feeling he was right.

This wasn’t over.

Not even close.

The silence in the room was deafening now that Jensen was gone.

You sat there for a moment, towel still wrapped around you, staring at the mess of sheets, the faint imprint of where he had just been. The room still smelled like him—his cologne, the heat of his skin, the lingering scent of sex and something more.

And yet, all you could think about was what had just happened.

Jensen told Jared about you.

Your stomach twisted at the realization, your fingers gripping the edge of the towel tighter.

Why?

The two of you weren’t even labeled. That had been his rule, not yours.

No commitments. No expectations. Just this. Stolen moments, hotel rooms, late-night calls that always ended the same way.

Jensen had made it clear from the start—he wasn’t looking to settle down again, not after everything with Danneel. You were his secret affair or whatever the hell this was.

So why the fuck did he tell Jared?

Jensen wasn’t the type to just share information for no reason. Jared was his best friend, sure, but that didn’t mean Jensen had to tell him everything.

Especially about you.

And yet—he had.

Days ago, apparently. And he hadn’t even mentioned it. Hadn’t even warned you.

Your heart did a weird, uneasy flip, frustration creeping up your spine.

What did it mean?

Was it just Jensen being careless?

Or was it something more?

You hated that the question lingered, that it stuck in your chest, leaving you restless in the empty bed. Because no matter how much you told yourself this was casual, simple, no strings attached—

Jensen had just tangled you up in something you weren’t prepared for.

And you weren’t sure what the hell to do about it.

Inside the car, the steady hum of the road filled the space as Cliff sat in the front seat, engaged in casual conversation with the driver. The ride to the convention center was smooth, quiet—until Jared turned to Jensen, his voice low, casual, but laced with curiosity.

"She’s pretty young, huh?".

Jensen’s jaw ticked, his fingers drumming lazily against his thigh as he leaned back against the seat. He didn’t react right away, just let the words sit in the air for a second before exhaling through his nose.

He knew what Jared was doing.

"She’s twenty-five", Jensen muttered, glancing out the window like that was supposed to end the conversation.

Jared tilted his head, not buying it. "So… twenty-one-year age gap?". His brows lifted slightly, his tone neutral, but Jensen knew him too well.

"Jesus", Jensen grumbled, running a hand through his damp hair, still backwards in the damn SnapBack because he hadn’t even bothered fixing it properly. "Thanks for the math, professor".

Jared smirked but didn’t drop it. "I mean… it’s kinda a thing, dude", he said, shifting slightly to look at him. "Not saying it’s bad. Just… different for you".

Jensen didn’t respond immediately, but the muscle in his jaw twitched again.

Because yeah, Jared was right.

It was different.

Jensen wasn’t blind. He knew people would raise eyebrows if they knew. Twenty-one years. That was a big gap, no matter how he spun it. And yeah, you were young, but you weren´t a kid—you were smart, independent, and didn’t take his shit.

And yet, that wasn’t the part that bothered him.

It was the fact that Jared was bringing it up at all.

Which meant he noticed something.

Jensen sighed, shifting in his seat, still staring out the window. "She’s not some kid, man", he muttered, rubbing his jaw. "She knows what this is. I’m not leading her on".

Jared made a small humming sound, still watching him. "Right".

Jensen glanced at him, eyes narrowing slightly. "What?".

Jared shrugged, tone even. "Nothing", A beat of silence, then— "Just saying, if it’s really nothing, you wouldn’t have told me about her".

Jensen’s stomach clenched, but he kept his face neutral.

"Thought you’d figure it out anyway", he muttered, shrugging. "You always do".

Jared huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah. But you never tell me unless you want me to know".

And there it was.

Jensen’s fingers flexed against his knee, his teeth pressing together slightly, but he didn’t argue.

Because Jared was right.

Again.

And that?

That was the part that fucked with him the most.

Jared sensed the difference immediately.

It was subtle, something most people wouldn’t catch—but Jared knew Jensen too well.

During the double photo ops, Jensen was usually his usual self—smiling, laughing, making fans feel comfortable. But there was always something else, something second nature to him.

He looked.

Jensen always checked out the women who caught his interest, just a quick glance, a flick of his green eyes as if gauging if they were worth a second look.

He’d done it for years.

Hell, even when he was married to Danneel, he still had that instinct—never acting on it, never disrespectful, but the habit was there.

But this time?

Nothing.

Jensen’s gaze never lingered. Never even flickered to anything other than the camera, the fan he was greeting, or whatever dumbass joke Jared was cracking beside him.

Not once did he do the subtle once-over. Not once did he let his eyes wander, even briefly.

Jared took note.

He took a lot of notes.

Especially when, during a break between photo ops, Jensen pulled out his phone, his expression shifting just slightly—a look that Jared had never seen Jensen wear while texting someone.

Not some smug grin like he was setting up a fun night. Not some casual response like he didn’t care.

This was different. This was soft.

Jared leaned over slightly, trying to get a glimpse. "Who’s got you smiling like that?", he teased.

Jensen immediately locked the screen, tucking his phone away without so much as a word.

And that?

That spoke volumes.

Jared smirked to himself, shaking his head.

"Yeah", he muttered under his breath. "That’s what I thought".

The panel was going smoothly—plenty of laughs, plenty of inside jokes, the usual back-and-forth banter that fans ate up. Jensen and Jared had been doing this for so long it was second nature at this point.

But then, the question happened.

A fan stepped up to the mic. “What’s the biggest age gap crush you’ve ever had?”.

Jensen froze for a second, his brows knitting together as he tilted his head.

He was clearly trying to decipher the question, his brain gearing up for the wrong interpretation.

“I don’t know.. I don’t… I mean..I didn’t really have like.. uh.. crushes on celebrities when I was… I was too busy…“, he mumbled, still trying to piece it together.

Jared, standing beside him, instantly sensed the opportunity.

He grinned, just barely, leaning into his mic. “Doesn’t have to be a celebrity”.

The moment the words left his mouth, Jensen stiffened.

It was so fast, so subtle, but Jared caught it.

“Well”, Jensen started, but Jared interrupted him. “I‘m gonna answer for him“.

“Oh, great”, Jensen muttered, taking a long, slow sip of his coffee, like he was bracing himself for whatever the hell was about to come out of Jared’s mouth.

Jared, still grinning like a smug bastard, paused for dramatic effect, scanning the audience before leaning forward again.

“He has… he currently has.. a crush.. on somebody who is… ”, he drawled, dragging it out.

Jensen’s entire body tensed.

His eyes flicked with panic, just for a second—the kind of split-second panic that screamed oh, shit, I just got caught.

And that reaction?

Worth every damn second.

Jared barely bit back a laugh as he pivoted, fast as hell, finishing the sentence smoothly.

“34 years younger and 31 years younger”, He nodded dramatically. “And they’re his daughters”.

The audience roared with laughter and `aaaww´s´ completely missing the tiny moment that had just unfolded.

Jensen exhaled through his nose, his jaw clenching, before leaning into his mic with a deadpan look.

“What he said!”, Jensen quickly shot and earning more laughter from the fans.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @kr804573 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @barnes70stark @roseblue373 @shanimallina87 @ascarriel @deanwinchesters67impala @thebiggerbear @quietgirll75 @barnes70stark @kellyls04 @spxideyver @ralilda @americanvenom13 @ozwriterchick

[tsunodaradio]

but i'll do it for you ⛐ 𝐎𝐏𝟖𝟏

oscar has a soft spot for you. (or: the one where oscar does karaoke for the first time.)

ꔮ starring: oscar piastri x reader. ꔮ word count: 0.8k. ꔮ includes: fluff, romance. profanity. title from keshi's soft spot. ꔮ commentary box: wrote this in one sitting after i saw this sportbible video. this is part of my soft spot mini-series. 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“You’ve got no idea what you’ve done, have you?” 

You’re usually much more adept at seeing through Lando’s bullshit. Today, though, you’re thrown off by the suddenness of his accusation. You shoot Lando a look of mild exasperation, and he responds by jerking his head in the direction of his co-driver. 

“He’s never done that before,” says Lando. 

“Done what?” 

“Karaoke.” 

Your eyes flit over to Oscar, who’s in the middle of re-filling his water bottle. A disbelieving laugh escapes you. “You’re kidding,” you say to Lando. “Who the hell lives this long without doing karaoke?” 

“Oscar fuckin’ Piastri, it seems.” Lando sips from the drink, his lips curling around the mouth of his glass. He’s always had a penchant for joking around, but there’s something about the sharp glint in his eye that tells you this might not be one of those instances. 

“Well, he’s done it now. Y’know, he wouldn’t do it for me—” The Brit pauses. Lets the words sink in. “But I guess he’s willing to do it for someone.” 

The implication isn’t lost on you; Lando Norris wasn’t really known for his subtlety. The tips of your ears burn red as you mumble a low “sod off,” refocusing your attention on the McLaren race engineer now belting an Adele song. 

Gracefully, Lando takes your advice and leaves you alone. He shoots you a final conspiratorial wink. You resist the urge to flip him off.

As much as you don’t want to read into it, you can’t help the way your mind whirrs with thoughts. Oscar Piastri— for all his straightforwardness— was a puzzle that you’ve yet to complete, and all the scattered pieces lay out in front of you now. 

How Oscar hadn’t really been keen on going out tonight, but you asked once and he booked the two of you a cab. (Not without sighing about it, though, and mumbling on the entire car ride to the venue. The point still stands: He came out tonight. 

For you? No. You shake your head. That’d be stupid to assume.) 

Oscar, who seemed a bit flustered when you asked him for his go-to karaoke song. Oscar, who spent an arduous amount of time scrolling through his phone before finally even trying to pick something out of the book. (Lando claims that his co-driver had been Googling ‘Songs To Sing At Karaoke’, but you’ve never really trusted Lando when it came to things like this.) 

Oscar hadn’t really known how to navigate the song book— kept mixing up the index system, not knowing what to look for. He took too long, too, when it came to punching in the numbers on the machine. Like each digit was a step towards a death sentence of some sorts. 

And when he eventually did come up to the microphone, the room had gone crazy. You thought everybody was just being supportive, but it had struck you as odd. The way everybody filmed the entirety of Oscar’s off-tune rendition of The Final Countdown; the entire five minutes, immortalized on everyone’s phones like he were some popstar you all paid money to see. 

You look up, look for him. He’s still across the room, chugging water like his debut karaoke performance had taken the breath out of him more than any race. 

But when he catches your gaze, that hint of a smile tugs at his face. The one not everybody is privileged to be on the receiving end of. 

As Lando jumps up to the microphone for a Kendrick Lamar track, Oscar walks back over to you. The couch is big enough for him to sit a little further down, but he opts to be negligibly close. His side against yours; your knees pressed together. He gingerly takes one half of the song book, resting it between both your thighs. 

“Have you picked a song yet?” he asks, pitching his voice low. It’s just quiet enough that you have to lean in a bit to hear him, undoubtedly making it look like the two of you are in your own bubble. 

The pieces of his affection, the ones you’ve denied to acknowledge until now—

“We should do one together,” you blurt out. 

Oscar pauses in the middle of leafing through the song book. His thumb absentmindedly rubs at the corner of the page, like he might somehow find the answer to everything in between Maroon 5’s She Will Be Loved and keshi’s Soft Spot.

“Is that something you… want?” he stammers. (As if he’s scared to get his hopes up.) 

“Is it something you want?” 

At your question, Oscar turns to look at you. Really look at you. You feel his gaze despite the dimness of the karaoke room.

His eyes linger on your face as he answers. “It is,” he says softly, “something I want.” 

— the puzzle falls into place. ⛐

[rafes-slut]

You set chellange who can go longer without sex

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Female Reader

Warnings: manipulation, power dynamics, teasing, slight humiliation, frustration, explicit content, psychological tension.

Summary: you tought it would be fun to see who can go longer without sex thinking it will be him who will cave in first since he is adiccted to it. not knowing he wanted revenge on you and wont give in to you until challange will be over. no matter how bad you will be craving him

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

It all started innocently enough. You and Rafe were lounging on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phones, when you came across a viral challenge that had taken the internet by storm: How long can you go without being physical with your partner?

Your mind immediately began to race. The idea sounded harmless—maybe even fun—and a bit of a test of his patience. Rafe was notoriously driven by his desires, always touching, always teasing, never one to turn down an opportunity to get physical. You, on the other hand, wanted to see if he could last without the constant need for sex, without making you feel like a means to an end.

“You know,” you said, glancing over at him with a mischievous smile. “I think we should try this challenge. I bet you can’t last a month without sex.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk as he lowered his phone. “You think I can’t?”

You shrugged, playing it cool, not wanting to show how eager you were to see if he could resist. “I mean, it’s just a month. How hard could it be?”

Rafe studied you for a moment, clearly intrigued but not entirely convinced. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes darkening as he regarded you carefully. “Alright. One month. But if I win, you owe me something.”

You didn’t hesitate, brushing him off as if it was no big deal. “Fine. What do you want?”

He leaned in closer, his voice low and teasing. “I’ll figure that out when the time comes.”

You both shook on it, and thus began the challenge. What you didn’t anticipate, however, was just how quickly this would become a game of psychological warfare.

-----

The first few days were surprisingly easy. Rafe was still his usual self—distracted by work, running errands, and keeping busy with the usual activities. It wasn’t until the fourth day that things started to get interesting. You were lying in bed, scrolling through your phone, when you noticed him standing in the doorway, shirtless, his toned body barely covered by a pair of sweatpants.

You felt your pulse quicken. Your body had already begun to ache for him, craving his touch. You glanced up at him, catching his gaze.

“You’re really going to do this?” he asked, his voice teasing, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

You nodded, trying to keep your cool, but your body betrayed you. You could feel the heat pooling in your stomach, your skin tingling with desire.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice unsteady. “I can do it. I don’t need to sleep with you to prove anything.”

Rafe chuckled and walked over to the bed, sitting beside you. He leaned in close, his breath warm against your neck. “You sure about that?” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss just below your ear.

Your breath hitched. “I—yeah.”

He smiled against your skin, a low, satisfied hum escaping him as he pulled away. “Alright. We’ll see how long you can last.”

--------

It didn’t take long for the frustration to set in. By the end of the first week, you were already feeling the pressure. Rafe hadn’t made a single move to try to break the challenge, and the more you thought about it, the more desperate you became. You thought you could play it cool, but with every passing day, you found yourself more and more turned on by him, by the constant temptation that sat just beyond your reach.

You found yourself trying subtle approaches—little touches, lingering glances, pretending not to notice how your skin was always flushed when he was around. But Rafe remained indifferent, ice-cold. Every time you thought you had him, he would back off just enough to make it clear that this was your challenge, not his.

One afternoon, you decided to push the boundaries. You were getting out of the shower, steam still rising from your skin as you reached for a towel. You had deliberately put on one of your favorite sets of lingerie—dark lace, just the right amount of revealing—and when you walked into the bedroom, you found Rafe lounging on the bed, scrolling through his phone.

You tried to walk past him as if you weren’t aware of how your body was clearly on display, but you felt his gaze on you the moment you entered the room.

“Nice try,” Rafe muttered, still looking at his phone, though there was a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

You froze, your heart racing. “What do you mean?”

He put his phone down, sitting up and locking eyes with you. “You think I’m going to fall for that? You really think putting on that little outfit is going to make me forget the bet?”

You bit your lip, trying not to show how badly you wanted him to touch you. “I’m just... trying to look nice for my boyfriend.”

Rafe stood up slowly, walking toward you. His eyes never left yours as he took a step closer, then another, until he was right in front of you. He didn’t touch you. He didn’t even lean in. Instead, he simply looked down at you, his gaze dark and calculating.

“You think you can just tempt me like that and I’ll cave?” he asked, voice cold. “You’re wrong.”

The heat you felt intensified as your frustration grew. You tried again, shifting your body closer, brushing against him in the slightest way, hoping that it would get him to react. But Rafe just stepped back, his expression unreadable.

“You’re not getting it,” he said, his voice colder than before. “You wanted a challenge, and you’re getting it. You thought you could control me, but now I’m in control. So, no. I’m not going to give in. Not until I decide you’ve earned it.”

----

Days turned into weeks, and the game only got more intense. By the time the third week rolled around, you were completely out of your mind with desire. Rafe, as always, remained unaffected, his willpower seeming to only strengthen as the days passed.

You tried everything. You’d initiate playful, innocent touches, hoping he’d give in. You’d wear his favorite perfume, leave subtle hints of your body’s desire whenever he was near. But nothing. He stayed cold, unaffected.

One night, you couldn’t take it anymore. You had enough. You stormed into his bedroom, knowing he was already in bed, his body sprawled lazily on the sheets. You closed the door behind you, locking it, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I’ve had enough, Rafe,” you snapped, walking toward him. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m begging you.”

Rafe’s eyes flickered with amusement as he watched you. “You begged me before. You can beg all you want, but I’m not giving in.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, the desperation and frustration making it hard to keep your composure. “Please, Rafe. I need you.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t say a word. Instead, he leaned back, his smirk growing wider as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Then prove it. Show me you can take it. Show me how far you’ll go.”

[okay-j-hannah]

Part 1: Sugared Coffee

Criminal Minds : Multishot

Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 7554

Warnings: set around season 3 {aka 2007}, slow burn, strangers to friends, friends to lovers, pining on Reid’s part, phobia of needles, PTSD, usual criminal minds level of violence and creepy unsubs, mentions of serial killers and the sick things they do, panic attacks, statistics and quotes I can provide references for

Request: This just came from my own head 😊  

A/N: While taking a break from writing my Teen Wolf series, I stumbled onto this little idea 😅 I've been in love with Spencer Reid since 15 years old - and I still haven't written a series with him... WHICH IS A CRIME

~~~

The Quantico buildings stood out pale and dim within the autumn trees. The dead, fall colors of red and orange encased the sidewalks and scented the air with a farmstead crispness. It was a smell you knew you wouldn’t forget as you stood before the main building.

Dressed in a blue button down and a black blazer, you thumbed the plastic sleeve of your new badge. FBI, it said in blue block letters, Behavioral Analysis Unit. This was a step closer to your new life.

Maybe this will be your chance to catch the son of a bitch. Maybe this will be your chance to stop others in the meantime. Maybe this is your chance to stay safe with a new team and a new badge, stifling the feeling of fear that always rested in your diaphragm.

For now you know you will always remember that your first day at the BAU smelled like fall leaves.

~~~

The office felt slower than usual, which could be seen as a reprieve, but it made the team restless. Most of them were catching up on paperwork, or at least taking their time with details. Reid had flown through a list of research papers and true crime novels by the time lunch rolled around.

“I thought we all had paperwork to do.” Prentiss called over, rubbing an ink smudge on her finger, “How come you’re reading crime fiction?”

Reid’s finger stopped running midway through a page in his book. “It’s not fiction, this is a true crime biography written by O.J. Simpson about if he hypothetically committed the murders of Nicole Brown and Ron Goldman.”

Prentiss raised her eyebrows, tossing her pen onto her desk, “If I was found not guilty for a murder, I would try to put the whole thing behind me. Not write a book detailing what I would do if I actually did it.”

“You finished your paperwork?” Morgan asked, entering the bullpen with a yellow pad of paper. He tore off the top page and sat across from Reid. “I thought you were a speed reader, not a speed writer.”

“I have a lot of free time at home,” Reid said, looking down at his book again.

Morgan laughed, balling up the yellow piece of paper and tossing it at Reid’s head. “Pretty boy needs a pretty girl in his life.”

Reid swatted at where the paper ball bounced off his face. “Stop finding reasons to avoid your work.”

“Woah,” Morgan grinned, “Someone’s a little feisty today.”

“You would be too if someone kept interrupting you while you’re trying to read.”

“Hey, have you heard if that new recruit is coming in today?” Prentiss asked, laying back in her chair and massaging her writing hand.

Morgan shrugged, twisting around in his own chair, “Hotch said interviews ended over a week ago.”

“They’re being pretty secret about the whole thing,” Prentiss went on, “Makes you wonder who they are.”

“I heard Rossi had something to do with it,” Morgan said, “Persuaded Hotch to make the unpopular choice.”

Reid closed his book, unable to concentrate, “That would mean the new guy has a personal connection with Rossi.”

“New girl, it seems,” Morgan said, eyes moving to the office doors to find Hotch escorting a professionally dressed woman.

Reid looked over as well, noticing a few things immediately, profiler that he was. This new recruit held herself tall, speaking of her confidence entering the room. Although her eyes were open wide as if she were trying to see everything all at once. It gave her expression the look of being frightened.

But the hesitant smile on her face spoke of kindness.

She was a walking contradiction. Her handshake was firm, shoulders squared, voice steady and confident. But her breath was shallow, and her eyes gave the appearance of a deer stuck in the headlights.

The conclusion was that this new recruit was confident in her abilities and wanted to be there. But she felt like she had to prove herself, terrified that something would cause her to be kicked off the team.

“This is SSA Derek Morgan,” Hotch introduced, “And SSA Emily Prentiss.”

“Hello,” the new recruit said, shaking each hand.

“And Dr. Spencer Reid,” Hotch gestured towards him, “We’ve found you some competition.”

The girl looked at Reid with a wide smile and it struck him how pretty she was. He blinked dumbly a few times, face blank when he replied, “Competition?” His throat felt incredibly dry.

“This is SSA (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” Hotch continued, “I was just telling her how we had an early graduate already on our team.”

Reid cleared his throat to combat the dryness, “You graduated school early?”

She nodded slowly, “Highschool and college.” She was quiet – shy in stating her accomplishments.

Hotch continued for her, “Had her bachelor’s degree by eighteen.”

(Y/N) sucked in a breath, rushing out, “And my master’s degree by twenty-two.”

“Our genius beats you by a few years,” Morgan grins.

“The eidetic memory helps,” Prentiss scoffs.

(Y/N) smiled again, “It’d be nice to bounce ideas off another brainiac.” She regards Reid with a warmer expression.

He was suddenly overcome with a sense of familiarity, as if he had seen her face somewhere before. He ran her name through his mind, trying to remember if he had read it or just heard it before.

“Speechless, Reid?” Morgan asked, grinning like he knew something everyone else didn’t. “I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

Everyone laughed as Reid tried to clear his mind. (Y/N) was looking at him with such fondness, he hoped it wasn’t pity for his strange and endearing behavior. He surprised himself by realizing he wanted her to like him. Like him a lot.

~~~

You leaned into the cushions of the jet seats, fingers running along your ribcage, at the little scar you knew was there. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself that you could.

“Alright, so families are being targeted in their homes with variations of the anthrax bacteria,” Hotch said, leading the team in the next case. “What do we notice about these cases?”

“These don’t seem like full scale terrorist attacks that are usually associated with anthrax,” Morgan said, flipping through the files, “But these could just be test subjects before some biological warfare.”

“Being isolated to just families within their homes gives the appearance of a simple virus passing through,” Prentiss said, “Usually when one family member gets sick they assume everyone will eventually.”

Rossi sighed, “Which kept families from reporting to the hospital until it was too late.”

“It’s also interesting that the unsub is using different anthrax forms,” J.J. continued, looking at the case photos with disgust, “Maybe they’re testing the effectiveness of each.”

Reid had a few knuckles resting against his chin, “We’ve seen inhalation anthrax in previous attacks, which affects the lungs of the infected and presents as flu-like symptoms.”

“There’s also intestinal anthrax, which comes from ingesting the bacteria,” you say quickly, “As well as cutaneous anthrax, which only affects the skin.”

“But we all know that inhalation anthrax is the deadliest,” Hotch said, “It’s been reported as the most fatal.”

“So why is the unsub using these different forms?” Morgan asked.

You thumb through the victim photos, “Maybe the unsub isn’t testing anything. Maybe they just enjoy infecting the family and watching the chaos ensue.”

“What makes you say that?” Hotch asked.

You sigh, feeling the attention being placed on you. A few of your fingers search for the little scar against your ribcage, tracing the slightly raised skin beneath your shirt. “If the goal of infecting the victims is to kill them, then using cutaneous or intestinal anthrax isn’t optimal. As soon as a cutaneous rash or ulcer appears, then you treat it with topical antibiotics and survival is very likely. And the only way intestinal anthrax will kill is if it somehow enters the bloodstream.”

“They could be enjoying the panic of sick families,” Rossi muttered to himself.

“The unsub might be using those forms in addition to inhalation because they want to see ultimate suffering,” you continue.

Morgan leaned forward, “Start with inhalation to incapacitate the victims. Then infect them with the other forms later.”

Hotch nodded in agreement, “Good work, (Y/N). I don’t think we are afraid of a terrorist attack. This is an unsub that enjoys isolating and infecting whole families.”

You swallow hard, proud of yourself for having an idea that might be plausible. This only being your third case with the team meant still trying to find your place among them.

Morgan was relaxed across from you, watching you for a few seconds, “You okay?”

You snap your eyes to him, “Yeah, why?”

He shrugged, looking down to your hand, “You have a nervous tick.”

Your hand instantly left the little scar you often traced, “Don’t we all?” you try to smile, “This is a time sensitive case.”

“Most of them are,” Morgan said, observing you, “There’s something you especially don’t like about this one.”

“What gives you that impression?” you ask, monitoring your own actions to try not to give yourself away.

“I don’t know you all that well…” he said.

You shake your head quickly, “No, you don’t.”

“… but I’ve seen you in some high stress situations the last couple of weeks. And I’ve noticed when you’re a little shaken.”

You close the case file, staring down at it with some apprehension. “Another form of anthrax is injection.”

Morgan looked at you with confusion, “Like with a needle?”

“That’s enough,” Rossi said from a few seats away, “Isn’t there a rule about profiling each other?”

“Papa Rossi to the rescue,” Morgan said with a small smile. “I was just concerned, that’s all.”

You give him a little nod, “I get it.” You give Rossi a stern, knowing look and he waved away your glare.

“We should grab a drink sometime,” Morgan continued, flashing his eyes in Reid’s direction. “It’d be nice to get to know you more.”

You laugh, “The most exciting thing about me, Derek, is this job.”

“Still,” Morgan stretched, “Where you from?”

A little huff escaped your lips as the jet began its descent, “Arizona.”

“What part?”

“Flagstaff,” you say slowly, “Why does this sound like an interrogation?” You were smiling, almost encouraging Morgan’s teasing tone.

“Family? Boyfriend? Girlfriend?”

You shake your head, “Parents back home. And no.” You notice how Reid suddenly put down the book he was reading to give his undivided attention.

“Alright.”

A laugh escapes you, “That’s all you wanted to know?”

“For now, sweetheart,” he said, giving a wink to Reid when you looked away. “Prentiss and I can scope out the first victim’s house.”

Hotch nodded, watching the jet get closer to the ground, “Good. Rossi, you and J.J. can look at the second victim’s house. Reid and (Y/N) – you two can go to the hospital to get more information on the symptoms and treatment of the victims. I’ll set up base at the local police station.”

Morgan seemed pleased about something as he got ready for the landing. Reid gave a little wave to you but seemed embarrassed by the action as he looked away immediately.

~~~

You sit behind the wheel of the SUV, Reid in the passenger seat twiddling his thumbs in his lap. You could tell he wanted to talk but didn’t know what to say. If you had it your way, you’d prefer to keep your silence while he rambled on about whatever was on his mind.

That way you wouldn’t have to talk. The less you talk the less likely you’ll share something you would regret.

“I found out recently that there’s a stage theatre in Virginia that puts on Shakespeare plays,” you say quietly.

Reid turns to you with raised eyebrows, “The Blackfriars Playhouse?”

You nod, “I hear it’s the world’s only re-creation of Shakespeare’s indoor theatre.”

“Yes, it started out as a traveling troupe that performed in countries around the world. They were taken in by the International Shakespeare Globe Centre and featured in England. In 1999 they changed their name to Shenandoah Shakespeare and moved to Staunton, Virginia. It took two years for the Blackfriars Playhouse to be built, and since then they’ve rebranded as the American Shakespeare Center that educates aspiring actors and performs using Renaissance rehearsal practices to showcase Shakespeare’s greatest works on their Globe Theatre stage.”

You start to relax against the wheel, “I saw somewhere that they’re having a year long conference.”

Reid was getting all excited, sitting on the edge of his seat and smiling with his words, “They are! The ASC is partnering with Shakespeare’s Globe in London. You’re a fan of Shakespeare?”

You give a polite nod, “As long as it’s on the stage. Shakespeare was meant to be watched, not just read.”

“Exactly!” he was thrilled to find something in common with you. “What is your favorite play?”

“Probably Much Ado About Nothing.”

“A comedy,” Reid said, “It’s one of my favorites too. Did you know that Much Ado About Nothing is considered one of Shakespeare’s greatest comedies? Although a similar trope of a happy ending, united lovers, and a villain receiving justice is seen in both The Merchant of Venice and A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Much Ado About Nothing also features more prose than just about any other Shakespearean play.”

You smile, confused, “Prose?”

“Prose is the written or spoken language in its ordinary form, meaning without the use of a metrical structure. It follows the natural flow of speech and differs from most traditional poetry. Much Ado About Nothing is about 75% prose and only 25% actual poetry verse. Verse is used to express more emotional statements, so that essentially proves how much of a comedy the play is because 75% of the material is used to express whimsical thoughts.”

You kept smiling, turning to enter the hospital parking lot. “I had no idea.”

It was quiet for a second before Reid cleared his throat, “I was rambling, wasn’t I?”

“Don’t worry,” you say, “I like it.”

Reid squirmed in his seat, warmth blooming in his chest, “I’m sorry, I should give you more of a chance to talk. Did you bring up the Blackfriars Playhouse because you wanted to see a show?”

You open the car door, “Maybe. Let’s get this over with.”

He scrambles out of the car, readjusting his side bag. “Okay.” You could tell he wanted to continue your conversation, but you brushed it off as you both enter the building to talk to the chief of the hospital.

You held back a shiver as you meet with staff in the urgent care ward. They told you of the severity of the anthrax murders, the horrific symptoms presented in the victims. They confirmed how quickly the bacteria affects a person and travels to everyone within a household.

“It would be easily transmitted between family members,” the doctor expressed.

“We believe the man we’re looking for is entering the home and tainting their food, infecting their air conditioning units, and injecting them in their sleep,” Reid says.

The doctor nods, “I can say the inhalation infection was there the longest, meaning it was the first form used. Cutaneous infection through injections hasn’t been present as long.”

“Meaning the unsub is entering the house a second time to infect them with a different form,” you say, “This guy likes to stick around and watch.” You trace the little scar against your ribcage, fingers lowering to another pinprick scar against your abdomen.

“Thank you for your time,” Reid said, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Of course,” the doctor said, “And before I forget, your unit chief wanted your team treated to prevent an anthrax infection.”

Reid nodded in understanding, but you start to seize, “How?”

A nurse leaves to grab some supplies as the doctor states calmly, “Antibiotics and the anthrax vaccine. We usually only recommend it for individuals that are at risk.”

“And that comes in a pill form?” you ask quickly. Reid looks at you suddenly from your tone of voice.

“The antibiotics do,” the doctor says, pulling out some paperwork, “But the vaccine comes in an injection.”

Pain enters your side. You know it’s most likely a phantom pain, but you can’t escape the feeling of terror bubbling in your diaphragm. It popped and sizzled into your lungs, bringing you back to the familiar sensation of your lungs being punctured.

You attempted to mask the reaction – hold back the sweat wetting your palms and creeping up your neck. You cooled your tone as you cleared your throat. You didn’t even want to see the vaccine.

Reid was being directed to sit down and roll up his sleeve, which he did while keeping his eyes trained on you. You didn’t want to see the confusion and worry in his face.

You run your fingers through your hair, holding back the shakiness of your hands, “I uh… I need to run to the bathroom real quick.”

You didn’t hear any response as you sped to the nearest bathroom. White noise was buzzing in your ears, dots of pain appearing across your front, like little beestings. You knew it was just a memory, and you clenched either side of the porcelain sink telling yourself that.

Of course you knew a spiral was going to happen. It was one of the main reasons Hotchner didn’t want to hire you in the first place. But you had hoped you’d be a few more cases in before it happened. 

You breathed through the terror, splashed your face with cold water, and flexed your fingers. You grounded yourself with your surroundings: Tiled floors, white walls, soap scum on the sink, faint bleach smell, water dripping down the drain.

Straightening out, you took a deep breath, no sharp stabbing pain – the fear trickling back into its containment in your diaphragm.

You straighten the hairs framing your face, wiping the speckle of water against your chin. Your phone started ringing.

“Hello?”

“Hi, gorgeous,” came a bright sing-song voice, “How’s my new bestie?”

A smile finally breaks the grimness of your face, “Garcia.”

“Yeah, hi – Hotch is asking that everyone meets back at the station. We just found a connection between the families. They’re both customers of the same plumbing company.”

“Which would give someone access to their drinking water and air conditioning.”

“Oh, I didn’t even think about infecting the water supply,” Garcia said, a smile clear in her voice, “I knew boy genius was going to have some competition with you.”

“Thanks, Garcia,” you say, sliding the phone back in your pocket. You exit the bathroom and find Reid waiting by the front doors. His face was placid, but his brow furrowed upon seeing you.

His throat bobbed before he spoke. “You okay?”

“Yeah, Hotch wants us back at the police station.” You walked right past him and out to the parking lot.

Reid had to jog to catch up to you, pointing back at the hospital, “Did you get the vaccine?”

“I’m fine,” you say, getting in the car, “The team made a connection between the victims.”

It was obvious that he didn’t believe you, but he was too intimidated by your evasion that he kept his mouth shut. The warmth that bloomed in his chest at sharing a car ride with you was still there. He wanted it to stay – he didn’t want to jeopardize the possible friendship growing between you.

Looking at you drive, more tense than he’s seen you before, he was struck again with how familiar you were. Whether your name or your face, he didn’t know but he could’ve sworn he’d heard of you before.

It had only been a few weeks, but he knew he already had it bad. He was becoming infatuated with you.

~~~

The team had dispersed again, taking part in investigating new suspects at the plumbing company. (Y/N) and Hotch were in the next room interrogating a lead while Reid updated the geographical profile in their office.

Rossi was confirming their suspicions that another family might be targeted in the next 24 hours.

Reid capped a marker and cleared his throat, “You knew (Y/N) before she joined the BAU.”

“Yeah,” Rossi said, immediately suspicious, “What of it?”

“It’s just…” Reid continued, sitting down at the table, “I feel like I know her from somewhere, but I can’t quite place it.”

“I thought you remembered everything.”

“I remember what I read, but I think her name is something I’ve heard before.”

Rossi put his files down, giving his full attention, “Why don’t you just ask her?”

“Because I have a feeling she’ll deflect.”

“So you’re trying to go behind her back?”

Reid sighed, “No, I just… she worried me a little at the hospital. I know something is wrong.”

That sparked some interest in Rossi. He leaned forward, “What happened?”

“She basically ran away when the doctor said we needed to get a shot. She says she got one, but I think she was lying.”

Rossi was quick to answer, “A lot of people don’t like getting shots.”

“No, it was the way she reacted,” he said quietly, “It was more than just a phobia. And I know she doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“Then there’s only one thing you can do.”

Reid looked up hopefully, “What?”

“Be a good friend and respect her wishes.”

“You’re not going to tell me how you know her, are you?” Reid said, disappointed.

“It’s not my story to tell,” Rossi shrugged, “But if she’s lying about getting the vaccine, then I might talk to her. We don’t want her contracting anthrax because of a fear.”

Reid twiddled his thumbs, giving his best puppy-dog stare, “Not even a hint?”

It pulled a chuckle out of Rossi, “You like this girl.”

“Did Morgan tell you that?”

“It’s not so hard to figure out,” the old man smiled, “I’ll give you some advice. (Y/N) is a driven and stubborn woman. She’s never liked being told what she can and can’t do. But that’s only what’s on the surface. (Y/N) is one of the kindest, quirkiest, most considerate people I know. You just need to get past the hard outer shell.”

Reid nodded to himself, “We talked about Shakespeare in the car today.”

“You did?” Rossi seemed surprised, “That was quick.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’ve already found a nerdy part of her. I thought she’d guard that for a while longer.” He was amused by the giddy happiness that entered Reid’s face, “There might be hope for you yet, kid.”

It wasn’t much later that Hotch figured out that you hadn’t taken any preventative measures against the anthrax. He ordered you back to the hospital or else stay off the case until they caught the unsub. He wasn’t going to take any chances when working with such a serious bacteria.

You, being the stubborn newbie that you are, bit your tongue and quieted the fear beginning to brew below your ribcage.

Taking advantage of the situation, Reid stepped up to escort you to the hospital. It was a quiet and tense ride to the urgent care, Reid attempting to find a way to express his concern.

“Not a fan of needles?” he asked with a lighter inflection.

You hold back a scoff, “Not really.” Your fingers are knotted and pressed tightly against your stomach.

Reid tried to keep his eyes on the road, “I don’t like them much either.”

“It’s silly, really,” you say, closing your eyes.

“No, it’s not. Everyone is afraid of something,” he rushed out, stopping you from diminishing your feelings. “I’m afraid of the dark.”

You swallow hard, “Really?”

“Some would say that’s ridiculous now that we’re adults. But you never know what’s lurking in the dark.”

It was silent for another minute before you took a shaky breath, “I have a pretty severe phobia.”

“Of what?”

You lick your lips, “Any kind of needle. Sewing needles, knitting needles, safety pins, thumbtacks, you name it. I can’t… they remind me…” You clamp your mouth shut.

Reid was hesitant but wanted to encourage you to continue, “You know you’re part of a team now. Whatever we share with each other is in confidence. We all have your back.”

I have your back, he wanted to say, You can trust me.

You tighten your hands, “They remind me of a dark place. I don’t like going there.”

Reid flexed his fingers against the steering wheel. He blinked hard before muttering, “I’ll be there with you.”

You both entered the hospital with Reid having a hand hovering against your back. He didn’t touch you, but he wanted to. He walked beside you, guiding you to sit in a chair. As soon as the nurse appeared with a sterile metal tray, you turned your head away.

Reid sat beside you, addressing the nurse.

“Afraid of needles?” she asked.

You didn’t respond so Reid said, “A little.”

“Don’t worry, honey, this will be over in a second. Just a little pinch.” She noticed how shallow your breathing had gotten, “Remember to breathe, sweetie.”

You nod, jumping when the cold wet of the alcohol wipe touched your exposed shoulder. Reid watched you tense up, gripping the armrests of the chair. He wasn’t sure what was overstepping boundaries, but he felt compelled by the concern eating him up to grab your hand.

His fingers wrapped around yours and he was relieved to find you clutching back at him. As soon as the injection touched your arm, a gasp escaped you. You were shaking in his hand and your face was screwed up against the sharp pain.

Reid never took his eyes off your face, worried at how severe your reaction was. He realized you were holding your breath as the nurse put a band-aid on your arm.

“Breathe, (Y/N),” he said quietly, “Remember to breathe.”

You inhale sharply, “Is it over?”

“Yes,” Reid said in his same calming tone, “And you’re okay. We’re all done.”

You open your eyes, finding Reid looking at you with a deep level of concern. He hadn’t let go of your hand yet and you found that grounding yourself was easier this time. No white noise filled your ears, no phantom pinpricks of pain stabbed your abdomen.

You focused on your surroundings: Reid’s warm hand holding yours, the smell of sugared coffee and mahogany on his collar, the slow breaths filling his chest, and the heat of him nearly pressed against your arm.

“Thank you,” you say softly, “That wasn’t so bad with you here.”

His heart soared out of his chest, a smile wide on his face, “Anytime.”

~~~

A month later you were settling into the team more and more. You had found little blossoms of friendship among your coworkers, except for Rossi who was determined to remain your second father.

You felt more at ease the longer time passed without suspicion about your hiring process. Though that could mean a higher chance of a slip up.

“You. Up. Drinks. Now,” Morgan had pointed a finger at you and gestured to the elevators where some of the team stood.

“Derek,” you sighed, leaning in your chair, “You know the club isn’t my kind of scene.”

He shook his head, smiling, “Not today, angel face. You’ve had an excuse the last four weekends and I know for a fact you were planning on spending your evening alone, reading and drinking your tea.”

You pursed your lips, eyes flickering to where Reid was talking to Prentiss. You had told him earlier that day of your excitement to have a free weekend to read.

“Is nothing sacred anymore?”

“Come on, pretty boy will only go if you go,” Morgan said.

And now you sat at a dimly lit table, waiting for your drink as Morgan was having a dance off with Prentiss out on the floor. She shoved him over and right into the nearest beautiful woman. Derek raised his eyebrows and sent Emily a little ‘thank you’ as he began dancing sensually with his new partner.

Emily rolled her eyes and went to find her own dance partner.

Over at the bar was J.J. and Garcia, no doubt discussing the latest Quantico gossip. Garcia, with a thin black straw between her teeth, slack jawed at the whisperings of J.J.’s news. It made you smile knowing that the analyst would corner you later to tell you what she had learned.

The low lights included a mixture of purple and blue, setting a cool tone around the people sitting at tables. You run your fingers along the table surface, noticing Reid making his way to you with two drinks.

“You look bored,” he said with a close lipped smile.

You accept the drink gratefully, “I told Derek I’m not a fan of drinks.”

“Then why did you agree to come?”

Because I knew you wouldn’t have a good time if I didn’t. You swallow, stirring your drink around with the straw, “My parents tell me I should go out every once in a while or I’ll never make any friends.”

He huffed a laugh, “You talk to your parents a lot?”

“I would every day if I let them have their way.”

“Are you close?”

You shrug your shoulders, “They worry about me.”

“Are you an only child?”

“Don’t start the profiling questions,” you say with a smirk, “But yes, I am an only child.”

Reid nods, his face heating up at being chastised. “There are a lot of studies on the effects of only children.”

“You going to say I’m a stereotypical only child that experiences overprotectiveness and spoiling from my two loving parents?”

“No,” Reid said calmly, “There are actually many studies that disprove that stereotype. Professor Toni Falbo from the University of Texas found that ‘across all developmental outcomes, only children were indistinguishable from firstborns and people from small families.’ And clinical psychologist Linda Blair wrote about how ‘parents can focus all their time and energy on an only child,’ which means they get valuable relationship time where ‘they just feel valued’, not just a sense of being overprotected. I think your parents might worry about you because of a different reason.”

You try to contain your smile, “No, they’re definitely just overprotective of me.”

“But then something must’ve happened to have them be overprotective of you. It couldn’t just be because you’re an only child.”

You take a sip of your drink, slowly nodding your head. Be careful. Don’t slip up. “A little bit of both.” You cleared your throat, “You know what show I just started?”

Reid took note of the change of subject, “What?”

“Doctor Who.”

His face split open into the biggest smile, “Really? The series from 1963 or the revamped series from 2005?”

“I just started the Tenth Doctor,” you say, matching his smile, “I think I like David Tennant more.”

Reid looked about ready to burst with the amount of information he knew about the topic. He started stuttering over his words, twiddling his fingers in the air as the words tumbled out of his mouth.

“My favorite is by far the Fourth Doctor played by Tom Baker. He’s the longest running Doctor on the series, having starred in seven seasons between 1974 and 1981. He is the most recognizable Doctor internationally with his famous multicolored scarf. I think his most popular companions are K-9 and…”

“… Sarah Jane!” you say enthusiastically, “Yeah, they were both in the last season with the Tenth Doctor.”

“Yes, yes!” he said happily, “That’s one of the greatest things about Doctor Who – they bring back timeless characters and stories through the years. It’s why you have to watch the originals!”

You laugh at his endearing blabber, “Go back to black and white television?”

“It’s classic,” he retorts, “Sure the BBC didn’t give them much of a budget at first, but the black and white helps hide the poor quality of the sets and costumes. And television back then wasn’t designed to be binged like today, so many of the stories aren’t cohesive, but that’s the beauty of it. It’s history in the making – you can see the progress of a single character and their life over almost fifty years! It’s fascinating.”

You nod slowly, tickled by Reid’s eagerness, “Alright. Maybe I’ll try to watch them.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to talk to you about the Master and the evolution of the Daleks and the effects of the Time War.”

Another laugh escapes you as you continue to stir your drink with the straw, staring at the ice cubes tink against the glass.

It got quiet as Reid stewed in the slight embarrassment that itched his stomach as his excitement wore off. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I rambled.”

“I told you I like it,” you say, finally looking at him in that dimly lit bar, “I like seeing you get all excited about stuff. It makes me want to get excited about it too.”

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t do things just because I like them.”

“Why not?” you say firmly, “What if I want us to share something?”

He was caught off guard by that, blinking hard a few times. “You want us to share something?”

You take another sip of your drink. It was getting watered down now by the melting ice. “I told you I need more friends,” you smile at him, “My parents are worried, remember?”

Reid’s throat bobbed, thoughts of spending long nights cuddled on the couch and watching old shows on a black and white television disappear in an instant. His hopes of taking her on a date to the Blackfriars Playhouse to see her favorite play were being diminished, the tickets of said show burning in his back pocket. The want to brew her a cup of tea and share an evening reading books together, maybe even holding hands across their reading chairs, ached in his chest.

“Friends,” he said quietly, “Right.”

~~~

Not long after the bar trip, you invited Reid over to your apartment for one of your reading sessions.

When you opened the door to find him with nearly ten books piled in his arms, you laughed. “You’re gonna out read me 10 to 1.”

He gave a close lipped smile, fighting back the embarrassment of his quirks. “It’s a blessing and a curse.”

You sat on one end of the couch, thumbing the edge of your fiction book. “I put a kettle on,” you said gesturing to the stove, “If you want to have a cup of tea with me.”

Reid took off his satchel, setting his books on a side table, “I’m more of a coffee guy.”

“Yeah,” you say smiling, “More like a sugar guy with some coffee beans on the side.”

You’re suddenly struck with another memory. Just like how you remember that your first day at the BAU smelled like fall leaves.

You remember that the first time you were able to easily ground yourself from PTSD, it smelled like sugared coffee.

As the kettle started screaming with steam, you went to stand until Reid started waving you down, “No, no – you’re already sitting. I’ll get the tea.”

And as he passed you by, it smelled like sugared coffee again, “But you don’t even want any.”

He didn’t respond, smiling to himself as he filled a waiting teacup with boiling water. A little cannister of teabags sat beside the stove. “Did you know that tea is the second most popular drink in the world? The first being water.”

“So my preferred drink is more popular than yours?” you say teasingly as he came around the couch with the steaming cup.

“That’s because the Asia Pacific is a dominant region for tea, and that accounts for over 4 billion people, which is around 60% of the world’s population. Not to mention that around 68% of people in the United Kingdom drink at least one tea per day, and that’s about 61 million people. That puts the tea industry slightly above the coffee.” He handed you the teacup, his fingertips burning where they brushed up against yours, and not because the drink was hot.

“You could just say tea is better than coffee, it’s okay,” you say, blowing before taking a sip.

Reid held back a smile, sitting on the other side of the couch, “Maybe not better… but more popular.”

You bickered with smiles on your faces for a couple more minutes before cracking open your books. You’re giggling as you toss your bookmark at him, “Just shut up and read your books.”

He laughed at you, trying to get comfortable on his side, crossing his spindly legs.

The pair of you sat in a comfortable silence as the sun dipped lower behind the blinds. Reid had blown throw two psychology textbooks and another true crime book written by a favorite author. You had gotten through maybe seventy pages of your adult fantasy novel.

Reid thought he would’ve gotten through six books by then, but he kept getting distracted by you. The thought of reaching over and holding your hand as you read was overwhelming. He wanted to sit closer, rub shoulders with you, peer over and read the same page as you, wait for you to finish before he turned the page for you.

He wanted to catch your eyes drooping with sleep and then offer to read aloud to you as you drift off against him. He wanted to drape a blanket around you both and help you sip tea so you wouldn’t have to take your arms out from under the warmth. He wanted to hear you read your favorite lines to him. He wanted to see you shift into a more comfortable reading position, grumbling about aching wrists. He wanted to read your book just so he could talk to you about it.

He wanted you.

It was getting painful how much he wanted you.

The bookmark he was using was the two tickets to the Blackfriars Playhouse. They blared at him like a beacon sitting on the side table.

But then something remarkable happened. From your scrunched up position on the opposite side of the couch, you crept your feet across the seat cushions until they reached Reid. You then tucked your cold toes under his thigh.

He abruptly looked at you with raised eyebrows.

You shrugged your shoulders, attempting to look innocent. “My feet are cold.”

He fought a huge smile, “And you don’t have a blanket?”

“Why would I need a blanket when you’re here?” You said it so casually there was no way you noticed how that made Reid’s heart leap.

“Fair enough,” he responded. He cleared his throat, flickering his eyes between you and his own book. “Hey, (Y/N)?”

You look up at him over the top of your book, “Yeah, Spence?”

Spence. He started smiling despite the nerves, “I couldn’t help but notice that the Blackfriars Playhouse is showing Much Ado About Nothing, and um…” he swallowed hard, unable to look at you. “… I just so happen to have two tickets to see it next Saturday.”

Your feet wiggled under his leg, and he squirmed, tickled. “Is that so?”

“Would you want to go with me… maybe?”

You could barely contain the excitement starting to course through your veins, “Are you kidding? Spence! I would love to go.” Your book fell from your fingers, “Oh my god, I’m so excited.”

The pride that swelled Reid’s chest could’ve made him float to the moon.

~~~

You could’ve blamed it on the case. On the method of killing. On the type of victim. But it was the fact that you didn’t have a handle on your emotions.

Girls around your age were being taken and tortured by having nails hammered into them. Sharp, pointed nails – stabbed into them. It was too similar.

You counted your breaths and stared at your desk. Everyone exited the bullpen before you, packing briefcases and emergency bags for the incoming jet flight to Missouri. You staggered on your way out, nearly collapsing into your desk chair.

You considered running to the bathroom like you usually did, dousing yourself in cold water and snapping out of it. Instead you closed your eyes and traced the little scars you could find against your ribcage and abdomen.

The smell of coffee wafted over you.

“Hey,” came a small voice, kneeling beside you. “Is it the nails?”

You try to swallow, but it’s thick and sticks to the back of your throat. You just subtly nod instead, slowly opening your eyes.

Reid is there, leaning against your desk and itching to touch you – to comfort you.

“(Y/N),” he said cautiously, “Is this more than a phobia?”

You attempt a deep breath, but it’s shallow in your chest, “I’ll be fine.”

“Maybe we should…”

“Reid,” you say more sternly, “I’m going to be fine. I’m not going to let this hold me back.” You brush him off, standing and straightening your blazer. “I’m gonna go pack.”

Reid let you pass but kept his gaze on you as you left the offices. It must’ve been too full of the longing and worry he felt for you because Morgan and Prentiss were quick to comment on it.

“Hey there, pretty boy,” Morgan said, setting his duffel bag down, “What’s got your attention?”

Prentiss gave a breathy laugh, zipping up her own bag, “Only the object of all his desires.”

“Give it a rest,” he responded, running his fingers through his hair. “You’re not helping.”

“Helping what?” Morgan folded his arms, “You getting out of the friend zone?”

“If she could see the way you just looked at her,” Prentiss sucked in a breath of air that sounded like a hiss, “Maybe she’d see how in love you are.”

“Those big old puppy-dog eyes,” Morgan smiled, “You’re irresistible.”

Reid grumbled, “Something’s wrong.”

“Yeah, the fact you’re wasting time pining when you could be getting some weekend sugar,” Morgan laughed.

“No,” Reid looked away, “There’s something familiar about (Y/N) and I don’t know what it is. Rossi refuses to say anything because he’s protecting her, but I know they have a past. That has to mean she’s been involved in Rossi’s career somehow, whether that’s from a case, or one of his lectures, or as one of his interns. But the fact he doesn’t speak about it means that it’s personal.”

“Okay,” Morgan said, the smile leaving his face, “What do you want to do?”

The corner of Reid’s lip twitched – it usually happened when he was thinking about something difficult, “I don’t know. I guess I hoped she would tell me eventually.”

“But now you’re impatient?” Prentiss asked, brow scrunched, “You want Garcia to look (Y/N) up?”

“No!” Reid said quickly, “I just… I want to help her, but I can’t do that if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“I thought she just got a little squeamish around needles,” Morgan said, “She needs a second, but then she’s good.”

Reid shoved his hands in his pockets, “I think it’s a trauma response.”

“Well, don’t phobias come from past incidents or traumas?” Prentiss asked, “Couldn’t she have had a bad experience at the doctors as a child getting her flu shot?”

They clearly weren’t as concerned as he was, and Reid sat at his desk, knuckles covering his mouth as he thought.

Morgan shared a look with Prentiss before saying, “Look kid, we worry about (Y/N) too. We’re here for her if she needs it. But we’re not going to go snooping around in her personal business that she would rather keep private.”

“She’s not going to ask for help,” Reid said to himself.

Prentiss pursed her lips, “Then we’ll be here to catch her when she falls.” She gestured to Morgan and the pair of them took their bags to meet by the SUVs, all the while muttering to themselves.

Reid drummed his knuckles against his lips, staring at his computer screen and debating. He could do a simple google search himself, no need to bother Rossi or Garcia with it. With Rossi being involved in some way, there might be a news article somewhere that mentions you.

Hesitantly, looking around for any prying eyes, Reid logged onto his computer and typed in the search engine. He searched for your name. Your name plus FBI. Your name plus David Rossi.

And a string of articles popped up. Newspapers from Arizona, Nevada, and Utah.

Young girls kidnapped, held, tortured, and murdered in the desert. The murderer being coined ‘The Pincushion Killer’ based on his methods. Each victim was repeatedly stabbed with varying sized needles. Starting with acupuncture needles and growing to icepicks. He purposely stabbed his victims in nonthreatening spots of the body, avoiding large blood vessels and major organs. The purpose to draw out their suffering.

Until the day of the murder. He would then puncture an organ of his choice: lungs, stomach, liver, sometimes an artery.

He was never caught. But all nine of his victims were identified. Eight killed. And the ninth survived.

And pasted on the front of every news article said: Pincushion Killer – Victim #9 Survives; Killer Disappears.

Below was a picture of (Y/N).

The ninth victim.

~~~

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