#this was supposed to be for day 16 (content)

[kiturak]

Oh. One more thing.

Re: "helpfully designated 'kid' spaces that are curated to be for kids": I actually think these - or the misuse of them - are part of the problem.

It's so incredibly easy, as a parent of a 4 or 6 year old, to throw up your arms in disgust and despair at the online world, and turn on the parental controls for anything and everything. There, problem solved! Now you can breathe easily. Oh interesting, now they are 12. How time flies by! 14, 15, 16, and not a second to catch your breath. Now you have a teenager that you cannot realistically limit to 30 min of "screen time" anymore (because they will bite you/ go behind your back), who has definitely 100% outgrown kids' spaces, and exactly zero experience in how to navigate the regular online world. Or worse! they do have the experience, because they broke confinement long ago without you knowing, and made all kinds of interesting experiences on their own, or taught by their fellow 13 year olds.

So the real parenting challenge is to accompany your kid outside of the designated kid's online spaces, and help teach them how to navigate it, in between your 40 hour day job, checking homework, making dinner, cleaning, washing their sibling's sheets full of puke, and dropping unconscious at 2 am. And there's a ✨very limited✨ time window where they are old enough to be interested in general content, but not yet so old that the school bullies haven't done the teaching for you and/or they stop considering you, the ancient person, to be a relevant source of information. (For which the preteen age might even be stretching it, as far as I see from other parents.)

And no one helps you with this, at all, because kids are supposed to be in their little fenced off kids' spaces! until they aren't, and now everyone's complaining about terrible 14 year olds on the internet.

Maybe instead of asking what if a kid sees/hears this adult thing, we ask why is that kid in an adult space and get them to leave, instead of forcing all the adults to change and cater to the child who wandered into THEIR SPACE.

[bluemantics]

the art of tending

Keith has a lot of scars. Some are more visible than others, but Lance makes sure each one receives the proper care that it requires. In the morning, as he sweeps into the kitchen with languid stretching, he slides up to the counter beside his love. Ever the early-riser, Keith smiles at him as he scrambles eggs. 

“Good morning, Lance.” Keith isn’t one for pet names, which never matters— the way he says Lance is enough. It echoes in the crisp morning air, traveling out through the ajar windows. 

It’s too early for words, so Lance cradles Keith’s jawline in his hand. He relishes in the feeling of his wedding band pressing softly against Keith’s scarred cheek for a moment before pressing a kiss into its slight ridges. His husband hums, content. 

They linger in mornings, now. And both of them are endlessly thankful for the ability to wake up slowly, together. 

Throughout their days on Earth, teaching occupies a large sum of their time. The students at the Garrison are brilliant. Lance has a fondness for one girl in particular, a 16-year-old named Vidhi who loves the simulator and loves pranks even more. He scolds her, of course, in an attempt to not be obvious with his favorites. Still, she knows that she can always come to him. It’s a source of pride for Lance. 

As wonderful as they are, they can also be… challenging. Lance is grading papers when Keith storms into his empty classroom at lunchtime. He throws himself into the chair opposite Lance with a drawn-out huff, dramatically leaning forward on the desk. 

“Carlo, again?” Lance doesn’t even look up, continuing to work. 

“He’s skipping math. I asked him about it, and he said that he’d rather fly, and that he doesn’t like the other kids. In less polite words,” Keith explains, balling up his hand in a fist. “I want to be there for him, I do, but he isn’t ever there for himself. It’s so—“ 

“Oh, Keith,” Lance clucks his tongue, drawing a glare out of his beloved. 

“Don’t do that,” Keith complains. “Just say what you have to say.”

“Carlo is a trouble kid right? Always does what he wants? Kinda a lone wolf?” Lance levels an unimpressed look at Keith. 

“Yeah?” Keith raises an eyebrow, clearly confused and frustrated.

“So, he’s like you, babe.” A range of emotions flash over Keith’s face. Indignation morphs into thoughtfulness before settling on realization. 

“Oh, shit.” He pushes back his bangs, eyes wide, and looks down at his hands with panic. “How am I supposed to even start with him? He’ll see right through me, and I am not equipped to handle an emotionally unstable kid. This is a horrible—“

Lance grabs Keith’s hand, forcing him to meet his eyes. “This is a wonderful idea. Who better to help him than a person who understands him? Who will treat him like an equal?”

“I don’t know where to begin, Lance,” Keith whispers. Lance rubs his thumb over Keith’s knuckles.

“Yes, you do.” He uses his free hand to turn around the frame on his desk. In it is a picture of the team, all smiling proudly while hugging one another. Lance taps the photo. 

“Shiro.” Keith follows his gesture, grabbing the photo and looking at it contemplatively. 

“Shiro,” Lance agrees, watching him take that information in. “You don’t have to be perfect, red. God knows Shiro wasn’t— he was just as young as we are now— but if you can do what he did for you… that’s powerful stuff.”

“Yeah,” Keith mumbles, glancing back up at Lance. “Okay, yeah. I can try.”

“I know this is hard,” Lance tells him. “There is no other person who could do this for Carlo, Keith. Not a one. You’ve got everything you need, and if you ever need help, you can always call him. You lived it first. Now pass it on.”

Keith stands abruptly and places the frame down on Lance’s desk, determination set into every muscle of his frame. “I’ll talk to him.” He swivels on his foot, turning to fast-walk out. 

“Up-bup-bup! You’re forgetting something!” Lance calls over. 

“Oh, yeah.” Keith grins, spins back to his partner, and draws him up into a kiss. It’s as grateful as it is fleeting. 

It leaves Lance’s heart fizzing with energy as Keith dashes out, adding a new pep to his grading. Lance is always relieved when he can soothe the pain from Keith’s oldest scars, the ones on his mind.

Eventually, when they turn in for the night, Keith will wince at the pull of his aching muscles. He’ll twist in their bed, trying to get comfortable until Lance finally gestures for him to move in front. Then, with quiet and calming hands, Lance will rub out the soreness from a long day of training and hard work. He makes sure to gently pull aside Keith’s long hair when necessary, lets his fingers skirt over the hard lines of Keith’s back. 

Keith will lean into his touch, as always. They’ll talk, voices long and low, about everything. Their classes. Hearing from teammates. A hard workout. An annoying call from family. Even, in their most difficult moments, they might mention missing some aspects of the war.

Those kinds of discussions are only reserved for nighttime. When the air from the windows is chilled, the stars are up instead of around, and Lance’s hands are tracing lines across Keith’s ribs and his shoulders. He maps out every scar from memory, pulls out every memory from each scar. 

Over time, Lance will lose his ability to speak, capable of just monosyllabic words. 

Keith will notice. He can never stop noticing. His eyes will wander over his shoulder, see his husband’s lids droop, and, with the grace of a much less rugged man, will ease Lance slowly to lie down. 

In a matter of seconds, Keith will wrap around Lance. They’ll close their eyes, limbs tangled, hearts thudding slowly in time. 

No “I love you” needs to be said when every action, every tender caress and guiding word, leads them to the same place day after day. 

[toothy-crow]

He listens to breaking Benjamin (and miles makes fun of him for it)

[deliasmoothie]

☀️FNAF DCA x Y/N Fic Recs🌑

All of them are DCA x Reader[romantic/queerplatonic]. NSFW fics at the bottom (I like those that have plot and/or have fluff <3)

Inspired by: Pillowspaces' DCA Fic Recs.

I've read them all and I love them all sO MUCH

Click on the author's name to view more artwork/content of the fic's au!

If you see your fic, you can ask for it to be removed.

PLEASE check each fics tags before reading them.

Last updated: 13/Dec/2024 [Total: 26 fics]

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☀️Solar Lunacy by BamSara (AO3 account required)

Samebody!Sun/Moon/Eclipse x Staff!Reader

~~ [AU & Designs: @bamsara]

You weren't a technician, you weren't a security guard, you weren't a daycare assistant. You're just an employee. Staff. The ‘jack-of-all-trades’ employee with mediocre at best skills and specialty in none, tasked with doing miscellaneous jobs that robots couldn't do and human staff couldn't care to. The job is unpredictable, but it pays good and it's relatively easy.

Except for the part where all the animatronics are more sentient than you thought, and you're roped into a mystery surrounding the Daycare Attendants, who are bit too curious about you for your liking.

You don't think this was in your employee contact.

| Words: 225,814 | Chapters: 16/?

🌑Love, Death and Rollerskates by Spadillelicious

Rollerskater!Sun, Janitor!Moon, Metalstar!Eclipse x Staff!Reader

~~ [AU & Designs: @spadillelicious]

After moving to Crescent City in the 80s, you pick up a job at the local roller rink Party Planet. Ironic, considering roller skating is definitely not one of your talents.

On the bright side, you get to work with the friendly Sun. On the other hand, you also have to interact with the gruff janitor and security guard Moon on a daily basis.

But when staying after hours one day, despite being strictly instructed not to, you find out a terrible secret that changes everything you knew about Sun, Moon and Crescent City forever.

| Words: 98,091 | Chapters: 18/?

☀️Celestial Sundown by clutterspace

God!Sun, God!Moon, God!Eclipse x Human!Reader

~~ [AU & Designs: @pillowspace]

There was something slumped beneath a tree, and you had no idea what it was. The sunlight shone brighter where it laid, despite the leaves above not differing from any of the other foliage.

It was such a small thing to notice in comparison to everything else, but it brought a small hysterical giggle out past the lump in your throat as it finally clicked in place what you were seeing.

It was a god.

You are a peasant living in the middle of the woods, Sun is the god of day you brought back home with you, and Moon is the god of night tucked away in the Celestial Realm.

| Words: 83,805 | Chapters: 7/?

🌑In Deep Dreams Between the Waves by NaffEclipse (AO3 account required)

Mermaid!Eclipse x Human!Reader

~~ [AU: @naffeclipse. Designs: naffeclipse, @deliasmoothie]

You see a fish, but the fish isn’t really a fish, because he looks up at you with big yellow eyes, wide with fright. Large black pupils dart around frantically. He’s small, less than half your size, which surprises you. You know mers are supposed to be big sea monsters that sink boats or cause storms, but you don’t see a monster. You think of a baby while staring at his chubby round face, creased with fear, and his small tail.

| Words: 55,644 | Chapters: 5/5

☀️Song Fish Amid the Stars by NaffEclipse (AO3 account required)

Mermaid!Sun, Mermaid!Moon x Human!Reader

~~ [AU: naffeclipse. Designs: naffeclipse, deliasmoothie]

This is a type of sequel to In Deep Dreams Between the Waves.

A pang hits your heart, going out to the little fish struggling to escape the cruel and entrapping lagoon.

But they look like mers. Sea monsters.

| Words: 69,362 | Chapters: 6/6

🌑Sleuth Jesters by NaffEclipse (AO3 account required)

Detective!Sun, Detective!Moon, MafiaBoss!Eclipse x Vigilante!Reader

~~ [AU: @sunnys-aesthetic, naffeclipse. YN,Sun&Moon Designs: sunnys-aesthetic. Eclipse Design: naffeclipse, deliasmoothie]

“If I may, Detectives, I believe that the score is set at a tie on how many times you’ve both let me slip away under your watch.” You grin at the sun and moon like faces of your opponents in this game of cat and mouse. The narrow slice of Detective Moon’s gaze becomes threatening, where Detective Sun curls and uncurls his fingers in anticipation of whatever scheme you’re concocting.

| Words: 174,134 | Chapters: 15/15

☀️Pisces Caelestis by S_V

Mermaid!Sun, Mermaid!Moon x Human!Reader

~~ [AU & Designs: @sortvaniliekrans]

Underneath the glowing eyes, a great maw opened to hiss at you, baring several rows of needle-like fangs, wicked looking and sharp and also glowing in the blacklight. As the thing hissed, the cries started up again, more frantic this time, and accompanied by- it almost sounded like scratching?

And it was coming from behind you.

The bleeding creature had never been the one wailing.

| Words: 76,588 | Chapters: 13/?

🌑Wintersweet Spirit by NaffEclipse (AO3 account required)

Winterspirit!Sun x Human!Y/N

~~ [AU: naffeclipse. Designs: naffeclipse, @berrythefish]

Your visit to a beautiful, tucked-away mountain town leaves you curious about the beliefs of a mythical beast who watches over the peaks and snowy ranges. An ill-advised trek toward the summit sends you tumbling directly into the mythical beast's domain as you must accept his guiding hand to endure the harsh mountaintop.

He is power and brightness, and the only one who can carry you through the snow.

| Words: 34,212 | Chapters: 3/3

☀️Celestial Omens by BamSara

Siren!Sun, Siren!Moon x Human!Reader

~~ [AU & Designs: bamsara]

When you are ten years old, you find two creatures, bloodied and injured, trapped a net on the beach near your home. You save them, make friends with them, and return them to the sea, leaving you to wonder later if your friends with the Sun colored scales and fins that shone like the full Moon were real or imagined up by a childhood of loneliess.

Time passes. You hear stories of monsters, Sirens in the water, one that is a good omen if spotted, promising your safe voyage as long as you respect the rules of the ocean, and one that sinks ships and eats people for fun. Just folktales meant to scare children.

A decade later, they return the favor, though they don't plan on leaving you so easily this time.

| Words: 36,318 | Chapters: 3/?

🌑Sources of Light by JackOfAllRabbits (AO3 account required)

Alien!Sun x Alien!Moon x Human!Y/N x Alien!Eclipse

~~ [AU & Designs: @maudiemoods]

Space has always seemed so far away until now...

Your life was mundane and simple; work, eat, and sleep. Taking small joys as they come to you and trying not to worry. Then, a summer night like any other takes a dramatic turn when you encounter a pair of aliens who had not anticipated meeting a human. In a panic you find yourself swept away onto their ship and now must navigate a universe of unknowns, starting with your strange abductors and the secrets surrounding them.

| Words: 120,077 | Chapters: 15/15

☀️Signs of Life by JackOfAllRabbits (AO3 account required)

Alien!Eclipse x Scientist!Y/N

~~ [AU & Designs: maudiemoods, @jackofallrabbits]

A new scientist has been hired to the Faz Co. research facility in the heart of the desert where any number of secrets can be kept. You are full of curiosity and are especially interested in a particularly fascinating subject that Faz Co. is holding.

A certain dangerous alien. Will you get too close for comfort? Is it worth the risk?

This fic is something of a sequel fic to Sources of Light and will revolve around Eclipse. This fic can stand on its own but there might be mention of past events.

| Words: 127,034 | Chapters: 13/?

🌑Cryptid Sightings by NaffEclipse (AO3 account required)

CryptidinAnimatronic!Sun/Moon x CryptidHunter!Y/N

~~ [AU: naffeclipse. Designs: naffeclipse, deliasmoothie]

Perhaps this would scare a person, being all alone in the woods in the dark, but not you. You’re too intertwined with the paranormal and inexplicable. It’s in your blood. That doesn’t mean your heart won’t pound with terror when you face something with fangs and hungry eyes for flesh, but you don’t run away, and that’s what matters most.

You will face the monsters.

| Words: 253,823 | Chapters: 21/21

☀️What the Tide Keeps by Cipher_the_Sidhe

Mer!Sun, Mer!Moon x MerHandler!Y/N

~~ [AU & Designs: @cipher-the-sidhe]

Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Mega Water World, the premier aquarium in the world! Enjoy our state-of-the-art rides and attractions, our dazzling animal performances, and prepare to be amazed by the stars of our show: live mers!

You are a mer handler at the illustrious Mega Water World. Or, you were, until something happens to the mer in your care and FazCo buries it all under red tape. Driven by grief and guilt, you team up with a fellow handler to uncover and bring to light the company’s unethical practices surrounding the mysterious mers they keep on display.

But what do you do when your search for the truth brings you face to face with two abandoned mers wasting away in the ruins of one of FazCo's old holding facilities? The mers are hurt and scared, but you are determined to make up for your past failure. You are going to take care of them, even if it kills you. And with two traumatized mers to contend with, it just might.

| Words: 36,072 | Chapters: 3/?

🌑Charm Brought It Back by NaffEclipse

Witch!Sun, Witch!Moon, Witch!Eclipse x Human!Y/N

~~ [AU: naffeclipse, jackofallrabbits. Designs: naffeclipse, jackofallrabbits, deliasmoothie]

The boys star as the witchy brothers who return once a fated reader lights the starry candle. They simply must show their gratitude!

| Words: 26,680 | Chapters: 5/5

☀️Of Fools in Gilded Masks by CloudyVoid, CrazedAuthor (AO3 account required)

RoyalJester/Prince!Sun, RoyalJester/Prince!Moon x Princess!Y/N

~~ [AU: @head-in-the-icloud, @crazedauthor. Designs: head-in-the-icloud]

When you're invited to the Kingdom of Pleiades to try and woo Prince Sun or Prince Moon's hands in marriage along with many other suitors, you are less than enthused.

During your stay however, you get acquainted with their court jesters Dawn and Dusk; two performers with such wild personalities much different to that of royalty. Dawn with their bubbly personality and quick witted jokes, Dusk with their small pranks and sleepy like attitude. You can't help but want to spend time with them instead of the princes you now avoid.

If only you knew that Dawn and Dusk, Prince Sun and Prince Moon, were one in the same.

| Words: 20,692 | Chapters: 2/?

🌑Apex Polarity by NaffEclipse (AO3 account required)

SirenOrca!Eclipse x Photographer!Y/N

~~ [AU: naffeclipse. Designs: naffeclipse, deliasmoothie]

In the Arctic, all is beautiful and cold and lethal. You tread over ice and underneath, a dark, powerful siren stalks you. Though you try to resist, you succumb to the lure of the mer and his decision to have you.

How do you survive an apex predator?

| Words: 125,998 | Chapters: 12/12

☀️Long Road Ahead by bubbiesaur

Samebody!Sun/Moon/Eclipse x Human!Reader

~~ [AU & Designs: @bubbiethesaur]

You didn't want a PleasureBot. You didn't need a PleasureBot. But here you were staring at a box from PleasureWorks (subsidiary of Fazbear Entertainment) and cursing your aunt. Just because you were alone doesn't mean you were unhappy. At least that's what you told yourself.

But when you open the package, you get a lot more than you bargained for. There's a long road ahead for the three of you...as long as you survive the first night.

| Words: 206,115 | Chapters: 18/?

🌑(Don't) Fear the Reaper by muzzle

CampCounselor!Sun, CampCounselor!Moon x Human!Reader

~~ [AU & Designs: @muzzlemouths]

Ten years after the tragedy that befell Camp Cosmo, something stirs in the woods, growing restless. A simple phone call embroils you in the fate of six guilty counselors, haunted by their past and a vengeful shadow that won't soon let them forget.

Your own innocence is called into question when friends become enemies, placing a target on your back, and you're met with a choice: play along, or become the next victim.

| Words: 61,870 | Chapters: 7/10

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☀️Product Testing by Bearitt

Samebody!Sun/Moon x Staff!Reader

You’re not exactly sure why you were chosen for this specific task they gave you, other than that you basically signed your life away in the fine print of your work contract and can’t really refuse what they ask of you but nonetheless it still makes you wonder. 

| Words: 2,152 | Chapters: 1/1

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🔞The Pizzaplex Nighttime Mechanic by crickyluv

Same body!Sun/Moon, Glitch!Eclipse x Mechanic!Reader

~~ [AU: @crickyluv. Sun Design: crickyluv. Eclipse,Moon Design: crickyluv, deliasmoothie]

You finally got the job as the nighttime mechanic at Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex! Unfortunately, you get a double shift. At least you get to spend time fixing the animatronic you knew best: Sun!

This is a slow burn that eventually turns into NSFW. There is a TON to get to before the spice comes.

| Words: 223,793 | Chapters: 49/?

🔞I Watched You Become a Stranger & How to Lure a Handler by IcedMetalTea (AO3 account required)

Mer!Sun, Mer!Moon x Handler!Y/N

~~ [AU & Designs: @icedmetaltea]

You work at one of the few aquariums cleared to house merfolk as a handler for twin mers who live in a sort of petting pool targeted at kids, as they've proven to be harmless to humans through the years. You spend your days taking care of them and supervising their interactions with the public.

You arrive at the exhibit for your early morning shift and, as you prepare for the day's visitors, the automatic door to the room malfunctions and slams shut while you're inside. You find yourself trapped with no sources of food, and the two creatures who have a very big appetite.

| Words: 14,041 | Chapters: 2/2

🔞Demon support by Megafacts

Demon!Sun x Demon!Moon x Human!Reader

~~ [AU: @megafactuals. Designs: megafactuals, deliasmoothie]

You decide to try and summon a demon to destroy the world as a big bang to end all of humanity. Then earn the lavish life you wanted when you went to hell.

Instead you get two small demons who say they can satisfy your very desire, except the desire you called them for.

Bull. Shit.

| Words: 10,801 | Chapters: 2/?

🔞Love for the endangered by Megafacts

Seahorse!Sun x Seahorse!Moon x Researcher!Y/N

~~ [AU: @megafactuals. Designs: megafactuals, deliasmoothie]

You worked as a researchers for endangered species at a sanctuary.

One day, two of the newly discovered seahorse merfolk species come into the sanctuary after being caught in a net left in the ocean. Instead of releasing them back to the wild, the upper ranks at the sanctuary decide to use them for a breeding program.

Over the next few months you must decide to help your new friends escape or force them to spend their first mating cycle trapped inside of the sanctuary.

| Words: 28,299 | Chapters: 2/2

🔞We Can Serve You Better, Than They Can by Bearitt

RoyalGuard!Sun x RoyalGuard!Moon x Princess!Y/N

~~ [AU & Designs: @flusteredfools]

It wasn’t your fault, none of it was but you were the one who was punished and both Sir Sun and Sir Moon hated that. It was the King’s affair with the Sorcerer that caused your unfortunate fate. He played with the wrong heart, made too many promises with no intent to keep them; and you, kind, sensitive, beautiful, youngest of seven royal children, last in line to the throne, originally the King’s favorite child, you took the punishment.

A curse of lust, only to be cured by someone who truly loves you for more than what lies skin deep filling you up entirely; true love, they scoff. Every day as the sun sets, your body lights with an inner fire, every touch you feel feels hundreds times more sensitive to you and you yearn and beg for someone to hold you, fill you and ease the flames you feel burning inside.

In the King’s attempt to keep his secret and your curse hidden, he built you your own annex; a few trusted servants, staff and just you, furthest away from everyone else until you were able to find your true love and lift the curse. 

| Words: 26,266 | Chapters: 5/5

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🔞Reeling You In by BrainrotObsessions

Mer!Sun, Mer!Moon x Handler!Y/N

As their handler, Sun and Moon relentlessly attempted to court you, often in ways that just came out needy, as cute as it was. As much as you loved them, you constantly had to hold back from returning those affections. But over time, it was slowly cracking away at your resolve.

A new tactic is what finally gets you to break.

| Words: 12,965 | Chapters: 2/2

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🔞Tempting the Stars by H_Grail

SamebodyAndroid!Sun/Moon/Eclipse x Technician!Y/N

You’re a Repair Technician that lives at the Pizzaplex, nothing weird about that. The days are filled with the hustle of making sure that the characters are in tip-top shape, well all the characters except for the Daycare Attendant.

You’ve never seen them and they have their own tech, but what happens when suddenly that tech has to take an indefinite leave of absence and you are the one that is responsible for filling in the position?

| Words: 45,815 | Chapters: 7/7

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SMALL IMPORTANT EXTRA NOTE

If you have any fic you wish to recommend me, please do! Though that will not guarantee it entering this list. And do consider that, as the title says and as I stated at the start, the fics added to this list are soley X READER/YN thus the relationship between the reader and the DCA is romantic or queerplatonic to some degree or can be interpreted as so <3

[bweirdart]

EVENT OVER! THANKS EVERYONE WHO JOINED IN U ALL DID AN AMAZING JOB <3 SEE YOU AGAIN NEXT YEAR IN MARCH FOR #mARTch OR NEXT OCTOBER (2024) FOR A NEW SET OF PROMPTS!!!!!

OC-TOBER 2023 PROMPTS!!

general tag: #oc-tober / my prompts: #bweirdOCtober

F.A.Q:

Do I have to draw EVERY DAY?

NO! I highly encourage skipping as many days as you need to avoid burnout! There are 10 main days in the event (marked with a ⭐ star) that you can focus on if you don't feel up to doing every day, or you can choose your own adventure and just do the prompts you personally like!

Do I have to DRAW?

NO! You can also write fanfiction snippets, repost older art that fits the theme, tweet headcanons/backstory, roleplay in-character as your oc ... genuinely anything that fits the theme is OK!!

Can I start early?

YES! I understand some people work at a slower pace and might need a head start! So long as you wait until October to post it, you can start working as early as you need!

I missed the start of the event .. do I have to catch up?

NO! Please don't stress about days you missed, you're allowed to just skip to the current prompt!

RULES:

1. MAKE FRIENDS! The community is the best part of this event .. please try to follow new people, ask questions about ocs you like, compliment people's styles, ask friends to create with you, etc!

2. TAKE IT EASY! Skip a day if you're tired, busy or just not interested in the prompt. You don't have to catch up on it later. This is supposed to be fun, not work!

3. BE KIND! Please think about the people around you - don't give people unwarranted harsh criticism, content warn for themes/imagery in your work that could trigger someone, don't create anything hateful, etc

MORE:

text version / tips and ideas on bweird.art or below ↓

star = main prompts | no star = optional

INTRO WEEK

1: FAVE OC ⭐

-Which of your characters is your favourite right now?

2: NEW OC

-Who is your newest OC?

-Design a new OC right now

3: OLD OC ⭐

-Do you remember the first OC you ever made?

-Is there an OC you haven't drawn in a long time?

4: RE-DESIGN

-An OC who has changed a lot over the years

-Take an old OC and update their design right now

 

BACKSTORY WEEK

5: RELATIONSHIPS ⭐

-Who is important to your OC?

-Do they have a partner?

-Do they have a best friend?

-Are they close to their family?

6: SYMBOL

-What imagery do you associate with your oc?

-Are there any colours, flowers, animals or concepts that symbolize them?

7: PERSONALITY ⭐

-How does your OC behave?

-What are their positive traits?

-What are their negative traits?

-Are they extroverted or introverted?

8: PAST

-What was your OC like as a child?

-Where did they grow up?

-Are there any significant moments from their past that shaped who they are?

9: FUTURE ⭐

-Does your OC have a goal they're working towards?

-What will your OC look like when they get older

-Do you have a planned ending for their story?

PALETTE WEEK

10: pumpkin patch palette

#251604 #1E3807 #5B5E1A #A2A657 #EBA00F #F3ECCC

11: hot cocoa palette

#520B13 #BB382E #E27E6D #88392C #AF5D40 #E1AFA4

12: midnight zone palette

#000007 #000049 #183885 #004D4F #0E8788 #FFF1C0

13: peachy palette

#DE6450 #DB9171 #FFC1AE #FEE1AD #FFF2E0 #D9D8D8

14: haunted house palette

#552506 #6E25AA #ED690B #F925A0 #8F8BA7 #A6C1AA

FUN + GAMES WEEK

15: MEME ⭐

-Post memes that remind you of your OC

-Draw your OC as a meme

-Fill out a character meme (classic deviantart style)

16: FOOD

-What is your OC's favourite food?

-What is their least favourite?

-Can they cook?

17: EYES-CLOSED ⭐

-Draw your OC with your eyes closed! No cheating!

-Write a scene without looking at the keyboard! Keep the typos in!

18: SWAP

-Swap the style or aesthetic of two of your OCs

-Species or gender swap AU

-Invert an OC's colour scheme

19: INSPIRATION ⭐

-Is your OC inspired by any pre-existing characters?

-Are there any particular songs/lyrics that inspired something about one of your OCs

-Do you have a dedicated pinterest moodboard for your character?

20: INVENTORY

-What does your OC carry around with them on a daily basis?

-Are there any objects that have sentimental value for them?

-Loot drop for your DnD OC

 

FRIENDS WEEK

21-25:

There's no specific daily prompts for this week, but here are some ideas you can try ...

-Art trades with friends who are doing the event with you

-Your OC interacting with a friend's OC

-Gift art for someone whose OCs you like

-Work together and collaborate on something with a friend

-Roleplay an OC scene together with someone

 

HALLOWEEN WEEK

26: FEAR ⭐

-What is your OC scared of?

-Draw one of your OCs trying to scare the others

27: MONSTER

-Do you have any monster OCs? (eg: vampires, werewolves, creatures, ghosts...)

-Draw a human OC as a monster

-Design a new monster

28: TRICK

-Play a trick on an OC

-Do you have an OC who would play tricks on people?

29: TREAT

-What is your OC's favourite halloween candy?

-Give an OC a special treat to make up for yesterday's trick

30: MAGIC

-Do any of your characters have magical powers?

-Give an OC a magical or cursed artifact

-Create a magic-using OC like a witch or wizard

27: COSTUME ⭐

-What is your OC dressing as for halloween?

[febuwhump]

FEBUWHUMP 2024 PROMPT LIST

this year's prompts were chosen through a suggestion poll (in which we recevied 2,281 prompts) and a subsequent vote, where over 1,000 people voted for their favourites. the top 29 make up the core prompts, and a mixture of the next most popular - and this blog's personal favourites - have become the alternates

i’m so excited to see what you all create with these prompts, and hope they’re inspiring enough to trigger a whole month’s worth of creativity for you! if you have any questions, please check out the blog's faq before sending an ask, or check out the previously asked questions on the blog!

please note: this year, notifying the blog of completionist status will happen through a google form that will be released closer to the end of febuwhump.

full write-up of prompts and rules under the cut:

FEBUWHUMP 2024 PROMPTS:

DAY 1: helpless

DAY 2: solitary confinement

DAY 3: "bite down on this"

DAY 4: obedience

DAY 5: rope burns

DAY 6: "you lied to me"

DAY 7: suffering in silence

DAY 8: "why won't it stop?"

DAY 9: bees

DAY 10: killing in self defence

DAY 11: time loop

DAY 12: semi-conscious

DAY 13: "you weren't supposed to get hurt"

DAY 14: blood-stained tiles

DAY 15: "who did this to you?"

DAY 16: came back wrong

DAY 17: hostage situation

DAY 18: too weak to move

DAY 19: "please don't"

DAY 20: truth serum

DAY 21: unresponsive

DAY 22: "you weren't meant to be there"

DAY 23: presumed dead

DAY 24: "i'm doing this because i care about you"

DAY 25: waterboarding

DAY 26: "help them"

DAY 27: left for dead

DAY 28: "no... not like this"

DAY 29: not allowed to die

ALTERNATE PROMPTS:

is there a specific day’s prompt you don’t want to fill? here are ten alternatives you can switch them out for!

ALT 1: human shield

ALT 2: "i love you"

ALT 3: found footage

ALT 4: human weapon

ALT 5: cpr

ALT 6: immortality

ALT 7: last words

ALT 8: killing game

ALT 9: lightning strike

ALT 10: last man standing

RULES:

SOFT RULES:

prompts should be answered in the form of whump

creators can produce whatever kind of media they want

you don’t have to complete all the prompts! you can create however much you want to

you can use the prompts after the event ends and can complete them in tandem with any other event

you can post on any platform you want, however this blog will only be sharing those posted on tumblr

if you want to be featured on the hall of fame then you have until the 3rd of March to inform this blog that you completed all the days

if you have questions consult the faq before asking

HARD RULES: (specifically for being featured on the blog)

when uploading febuwhump content to tumblr, please use the tags:

febuwhump (i’ll also be checking febuwhump2024)

the relevant day’s tag e.g. febuwhumpday1, febuwhumpday2…

nsfw (if relevant)

and any trigger warnings that may be important!

you can also tag the blog, @febuwhump

i cannot guarantee your work will be archived on the blog because I have no idea how many participants there will be. a random selection of works tagged in accordance to the rules above will be reblogged every day of february.

[reidmania]

WHY WAIT | Spencer Reid.

summary; reader works at a childcare and realises she wants kids sooner than she expected she would and struggles to admit that to Spencer after their agreement to wait a few years.

warnings; 16+, slight angst, a bit suggestive at the end. fem reader, childcare worker reader, mentions babies, wanting babies, avoidant reader, guilt, feeling scared to talk about emotions, talks about feeling empty, references sex, makeout, talks about trying for a baby. lmk if i missed anything

a/n ; i imagined this as post prison reid but literally any works

Your head is almost a foggy mess when you step into the bau office out of the elevator. Your hand grouped your hair before tying it up into a mess of a ponytail but you couldn’t find it to care as your eyes skimmed over the room for your husband.

You had finished work almost an hour ago, to where you were supposed to go out with Spencer for a date night — it was an unspoken agreement between you two that no matter how busy you were, at least once a week you would go out for a date night. It was important for your relationship because of how much Spencer was away.

Working at a childcare had its ups and downs, being vomited on, the headaches from toddlers screaming tantrums and annoying parents weren’t always the best or easiest thing to deal with — but you were doing what you loved.

The little letters or flowers you would be given by kids throughout the say, the big grins on their faces in the mornings, and watching their curious faces grow more and more was so rewarding. The job fit you perfectly it allowed you to be able to be nurturing and caring, like you were in your everyday life.

Normally you worked in the toddler room, which you enjoyed the absolute most, having little conversations, answering their hundreds of curious questions, and reading to them. A few weeks ago however, you had to take over the baby room because one of your coworkers were out sick and causing the baby room to be out of ratio of babies and adults, whereas the toddler room was perfect — you were able to help out, it had been a continuous thing, you would go in and help out whenever due to the low staff in the baby room, over the last few weeks you had spent many days in there.

Only it didn’t go exactly as you expected and not at all in a bad way, you had something about you that was so enhancing to little humans, their adored you — It was no different with the babies.

Only holding them and rocking them to sleep, feeding them bottles and watching them coo and smile made you think too deeply. You couldn’t stop your mind from travelling to the idea of kids of your own.

You and Spencer had talked about it, you wanted kids and he wanted kids, that was definite, but you both also agreed you would wait a few years until Spencer was ready to teach. He didn’t want to risk the chance of not coming home to you and his children — he didn’t want to leave you alone.

And you were completely okay with that. You worked around kids all day so there was no rush for you, you were completely content with the decision. Until recently.

Until it was all you could think about all day, and the entire way home, until you were laying in bed thinking about it, until everyday doing anything it felt like there was something missing, someone missing.

You smiled as your eyes laid on Spencer who was sitting at his desk finishing Paperwork, the only reason you were here was because he had some extra work to do and would be here later than he planned but he wanted to see you. So he called you once you finished and suggested you come here to hang out with him until he finished and then you would go on your date.

You walked up to him, hand gently brushing over his shoulder. He tilted his head to look up at you, the smile on his lips arrived almost instantly after seeing your face. “Hey” He smiled, hand reaching back placing itself ontop of your hand that was on his shoulder.

You repositioned your hand, clasping it over his own. “Hi honey” You leant down to place a gentle kiss on the top of his head. You could feel his thumb rubbing back and fourth over the back of your hand.

“How was your day?” He asked, shuffling around on his chair to be facing you completely as he swung your hands together gently, everything he did was so gentle. You couldn’t stop your mind from imagining him holding your baby in his arms, playing peekaboo with them.

Your mind didn’t stop there. You could just imagine your baby wrapping its small hand around Spencers ring finger where his wedding ring stayed. You could see it all playing out in your mind.

“Baby?” He said after your lack of response, noticing clearly your mind was elsewhere. You looked at him— you were looking at him before but you were really looking at him now, out of your daze.

“Sorry, What?” You apologise as you realise you had basically ignored whatever he was saying, making a small puddle of guilt flood through your stomach.

He tapped his knee, encouraging you to sit down innocently. You did so without question after he repositioned slightly in order to make it more simple and comfortable for you. His hand rested gently against your thigh. “I asked how your day was.” He said softly.

You hummed, turning your head in order to be facing him. “Good” You nodded — purposefully not mentioning any details, too scared you may go into too much detail. You and Spencer had agreed on a timeline for your future and you knew how important timing was, and you didn’t want to ruin that for Spencer just because you had a bit of baby fever.

Or what you passed off as baby fever.

“Yeah?” He muttered, hand raising to brush untied strands of hair out of your face. You nodded in response, leaning into his touch as he hand paused, cupping your cheek slightly. “How was yours?” You ask, you hand trailed behind his head to rest gently in his hair.

“Good, I missed you” He said, head leaning back slightly into your touch. You smiled at the little thing, how his body relaxed at your contact.

“I missed you too, Im sorry I had to leave early this morning” You left before he woke up, which wasn’t normally the case but you were called in because a parent needed to drop off a kid extra early.

He just shook his head, bringing your free hand up to place a gentle kiss to your wrist. You heard your name causing you to turn your head, you smiled widely as you saw JJ — looking very pregnant. It had been a while since you had seen her, last time being at the start of her pregnancy, she would’ve been just over half way now.

“Hi!” You smiled widely, lifting yourself off Spencers lap to wrap your arms around the blonde girl, she reciprocated the action, smiling widely. “Hot mama!! you’re looking great” You smiled once you pulled away, referring to how good she looked.

She chuckled softly, “Thank you.” She said, her hand coming down to her belly, rubbing it gently. Your mind traveled slightly to the idea of you in that position, before you brought yourself out of it.

“When you two gonna start a little family of your own? He will need a friend” JJ teased lightly, a smile on her face.

You smile as you thought about your baby growing up with JJ’s, the idea of them having little playdates while you and JJ could mutually support one another, before your smile slipped slightly when you realised that wouldn’t happen.

You tried not to show it in your face as you pushed out a rough chuckle, shaking your head. You looked over at Spencer who’s eyes were on you with a soft smile on his face, before you looked at JJ.

“Oh no, not for a few more years” You said, you wondered if she could hear the lump in your throat as you talked, a lingering feeling of disappointment taking over your stomach as you plastered a smile on your face.

She frowned, looking between you and Spencer. “You would make amazing parents” She said, gushing slightly at the idea. “Seriously you would be the best mum, wouldn’t she?” She asked, looking at Spencer.

Spencer stood up from his chair to rest his arms around your waist from behind you. You hated the way you slightly tensed before relaxing. “She would” He said, placing a tender kiss your temple.

You pushed out a laugh — it all hurt. In a way you couldn’t explain. It was as if they were taunting you even though you knew they weren’t. You wondered why the universe chose today for JJ to ask the question.

The feeling of loss returned, the feeling of something missing. It had been turning up randomly, doing the littlest things like washing the dishes, doing laundry or just laying in bed at night next to Spencer when he was home — it was worse when he was home. You couldn’t stop thinking about how much you craved your baby lying with you and him.

JJ smiled widely, “Don’t you want kids? Why wait?” She was almost joking, you could hear it in her tone there was a hint of seriousness lingering in it.

“We’re gonna have kids.” Spencer said as if there was no question about it. Your entire body tensed and you hoped Spencer didn’t notice it, you silently prayed he didn’t. “Just in a few years, when everything had calmed down a bit” Spencer said.

Your chest ached at his words more than you cared to admit. A few years, just a few years.

You didn’t know if you could wait a few years. The feeling was taking over every aspect of your life and it was already driving you insane — it had merely been a month.

JJ pouted dramatically as she looked at you, “You would make such a hot mum, full milf” She nodded as she looked you up and down, throwing in a gentle wink.

You chuckled, “I don’t know about that” You brought your hand up to your face, rubbing your cheek gently pushing a smile to your lips as JJ looked at her watch before sighing. “I have to go, how about we go for coffee this weekend?” She suggested looking at you.

You nodded your head smiling as she said her goodbyes before making her way out of the building. Spencer spun you in his arms turning you so you were facing him.

“You’re so beautiful” He said, thumb brushing over your cheek gently as he brought his hand up to your face. He leant down for a moment finally placing a gentle kiss on your lips now that the office was basically empty.

You laughed as you pulled away, “Okay boy wonder, finish up — im starving” You said. He smiled, leaning down to place another kiss against your lips, this one softer and quicker before he turned to sit down.

“Tell me about your day while I work” And you did, leaving out the parts that caused your heart to pull on itself.

The thought never left your mind that night, or any night after that.

“So much for our coffee date” JJ joked after you both ordered hot chocolates rather than coffee’s. You smiled widely at her, shaking your head slightly. “Coffee is overrated” You joked.

She groaned, “Im glad you think that, I’m hardly surviving. My obgyn told me I should cut back a little bit — which is all well and good till I actually had to do it” She said, you watched as her hand instinctively dropped down to her stomach.

There was a feeling in your gut, jealousy? Envy? You weren’t sure but you knew it was beginning to get harder to deal with. You just chuckled, “I could imagine”

The table fell quiet as your eyes dropped to the table, almost wishing you had the struggle of not being able to drink a lot of coffee because you were having a baby — you hated that.

“Alright, no more small talk. Whats up”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you looked up at her. You pushed a laugh past your lips as your head fell to the side, “What do you mean?” You asked in confusion.

She rolled her eyes playfully. “You have been all… sad. You’re so sad. Why are you sad? I noticed it the other night at the office— Did Spencer do something?” She started out worriedly before becoming slightly defensive of you at the idea that maybe Spencer did something that upset you.

You laughed, “Spencer didn’t do anything. Spencer is amazing.” You reassured lightly. Although the pit in your stomach deepened — you knew exactly what she was talking about and no matter how much you denied it if there was one person able to get it out of you, it would be JJ.

“It was right after I mentioned you having kids… Do you not want kids?” She guessed, it almost made you laugh because it was exactly the opposite. “Does Spencer know?” She asked — everyone knew how much Spencer wanted kids of his own one day.

You shook your head. “I want kids.” You said but the words held more depth. You wanted kids, you wanted a baby and you wanted them with Spencer.

“I still don’t understand why you’re waiting.” She muttered shaking her head and she distracted herself from the topic at hand — which you would’ve been grateful for besides the fact she was now bringing up exactly what was wrong — waiting.

“Spencer couldn’t do it now” You muttered slightly under your breath but she caught it, furrowing her eyebrows she asked why.

You sighed, shrugging. “He loves his job and he wants to wait a few years before he starts teaching. We decided to wait” You said, you tried to hide the disappointment in your voice but that was useless when sitting across from a profiler.

“You don’t want to wait.” She realised, her lips pulling into a frown. You mirrored the look, nodding your head sadly. She huffed slightly.

“It’s alright, really. Its just working around kids all days, babies and toddlers really makes it difficult for me to just—“ You were cut off when your waitresses came to place yours and JJ’s hot chocolates on the table, you both thanked her before she walked away and you continued. “It just makes it difficult to ignore it.”

JJ nodded her head in understanding. “You shouldn’t have to ignore it! You know Im sure if you talked to him—”

You didn’t mean to cut her off, “He wants to wait. If i bring it up he will agree just because it’s what I want, I don’t want that.” You said, shaking your head as you looked down at the hot chocolate in your hands.

“He wants kids.” She said. You knew this but it felt nice hearing it again. “He wants to be a dad and he wants to have kids — with you. Of course he will do it if you want it, thats not a bad thing. He wants it to, theres ways to work around work — you just need to have a conversation about it” She said honestly.

You pushed a smile to your lips as you thought about her words, still there was an overwhelming amount of guilt in your chest. “Ill see how it goes” You say.

It had been two weeks since your ‘coffee’ date with JJ and you still found yourself unable to admit out loud to Spencer that you wanted kids now. He had been away on a case this week, which didn’t help you being alone with your thoughts — but it made it easier trying to hide the feeling of emptiness that had been present for weeks.

Not because of Spencer, he made you happier than you thought humanly possible. There was just something missing, you kept waiting for the feeling to go away but it never did. You kept waiting to be able to fall asleep at night without the feeling of longing for something more.

You were lying in bed, when you heard the front door of yours and Spencer’s home open and close. It was probably some outrageous time in the night. You had been lying in the same position for hours unable to fall asleep.

You heard footsteps you knew all too well coming towards your bedroom. The door opened and you turned slightly to look at Spencer who was tugging his tie off messily as he walked towards the bed, eyes widening when he saw you were still awake.

“Hi” He sighed tiredly, throwing his tie on the floor. As he began unbuttoning his shirt, after pulling off his suit jacket. “Im so glad you’re awake” He breathed out.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you sat up to look at him properly. His hair was a mess and he was rushing to get changed. He hardly finished taking off his pants before he was pulling on grey sweatpants leaving his top half naked as he got in bed next to you.

“Hi” You said.

He smiled, wrapping his arms tightly around your body as he pulled you in close to him, so much so you found yourself straddling his hips as he laid on his back. “Hi” He breathed out again.

You were confused. Of course you adored the affection — evidently he missed you but he was out of breath and you didn’t know why. You looked over at the clock seeing it was nearing three in the morning. Spencer never had this much energy this late at night — especially after being away for a week on a case.

Normally he would come home and just hold you. That was what he needed after being away. Just you in his arms.

“What-” you were cut off by him leaning upwards, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, you hummed slightly as you kissed him back, melting into the softness of his lips. His hand trailed down your torso before slipping under your shirt — which was actually his shirt.

You gasped as you felt his cold hands against the warm skin of your waist. His hands traveled up your back like a mad man — as if he could hardly get enough, he took your gasp into his advantage slipping his tongue into your mouth.

You made out with him for a few minute before pulling away, he chased your lips but you pulled back, “What has gotten into you?” You breathed out — chest rising and falling heavily as you worked to catch your breath.

He looked up at you, eyes full of an emotion you’d never seen on his face, one you couldn’t place. He let out a breath. “Let’s have a baby.”

You swore your heart stopped as your breath got caught in your throat. You were sure your pulse was going haywire as you tried to process what he said. “W-What? Spence.” You moved to slide off his lap, feeling a sense of hurt in your stomach.

His hands gripped your hips, keeping you in place. “Please.” He said breathily. “JJ told me” He said, looking so deep into your eyes. Your eyes widened and your lips parted as you sucked in a harsh breath. You felt a sense of betrayal from JJ but you knew deep down she was just trying to help you. She hated seeing you so.. Sad.

“Spence” You could cry. You swore you could cry.

“Im serious angel. Let’s have a baby. I want a baby.” He said, thumb rubbing over your hip sending a burning sensation to the place his fingertip brushed over.

You frowned, “But you wanted to wait.” You said.

He shrugged his shoulders, “So did you.” He muttered, leaning up to place gentle kisses down your neck.

You tilted your head instinctively at the feeling of his lips gently brushing over your skin. “But you shouldn’t change your- your mind just because I did” You sucked in a harsh breath as you felt his tongue brush over a sensitive spot of your neck.

“I want a baby with you. I want to raise kids with you. I want to be a dad to our children.” He said, pulling away to look at you. “If you’re ready Im ready, I’ll start teaching. I want a baby with you, now.” He said, looking into your eyes. He spoke genuinely.

“Really?” You asked.

He nodded, “Lets start trying.” He said, leaning back down to kiss your neck again.

“Right now?” You laughed out a giggle as your stomach swarmed with an overwhelming amount of happiness.

He hummed against your skin.

“Why wait?”

[yeowangies]

A beast to toy with

PAIRING: Kenpachi/AFAB!Reader. CONTENTS: Explicit Sexual Content, Cunnilingus, Yandere!Kenpachi, Size Difference WORDCOUNT: 1240

Summary:

Every time you walked to the fourth division, you could feel it everywhere. Whenever you went back to the barracks, there he was, somewhere in the roofs of the buildings. Even when you were alone in your room, you could practically smell him; he had been there at some point while you were gone. 

Notes:

KINKTOBER DAY 16: Size Difference

I think I'm not that good at writing yandere stuff, so this is more lighthearted than it should be, i suppose. I still tried lmao, either way, I enjoyed writing the smut part of this 🥴

@actuallysaiyan

divider by @/cafekitsune

You regretted sleeping with Kenpachi the minute you started feeling his spirit pressure around at practically all times, the day after the deed. 

Every time you walked to the fourth division, you could feel it everywhere. Whenever you went back to the barracks, there he was, somewhere in the roofs of the buildings. Even when you were alone in your room, you could practically smell him; he had been there at some point while you were gone. 

Kenpachi was known for being insane in a different way than this, so you couldn't lie to yourself and say it didn’t turn you on to see him being so obsessed with you. As creepy and insane as it was, you still found it somehow flattering. 

But it was getting ridiculous. 

You had just ordered a drink at a bar, and the guy handing you the glass had talked to you for not even a minute before you felt Kenpachi’s looming presence behind you. 

“You have got to be kidding me.” You growled, turning to see him behind you as the man scurried out. As did most of the people in your surrounding. “What do you think you’re doing here?”

“Who was that?” Kenpachi asked in an intimidating tone, but you paid it no mind.

“Just some guy, serving me a drink! And what is it to you?”

“What is it to me?” He growled.

You ignored him, downing your sake in one gulp before walking past Kenpachi and out the bar. Your short legs weren’t a match to his long ones, and he had grabbed your arm as soon as the cool air hit your face. 

“Let go!” You tried to yank your arm free, but he remained unfazed. 

“No.”

“What do you even want?”

Kenpachi looked at you with the deepest frown. Like he couldn’t believe you were even asking him that. 

“Why did you disappear the next morning?”

“What?”

“Why did you disappear the next morning?” He repeated with a louder voice. His stare was threatening, but you knew better than being scared of it. 

“Because I had to go.” You replied flatly. “It was just a one night thing.”

You were fully aware of what kind of beast you were toying with, even more so when you noticed the muscles in Kenpachi’s jaw tense. 

It amused you to no end that he actually wanted something more than a casual affair. You hadn’t pegged him as that kind of man, quite the contrary. He gave the impression of being completely aloof and carefree, not looking for any deep connection, let alone being obsessed enough with one person to keep them by his side.

You were obviously wrong. 

With a smirk on his lips and an alluring gleam in his eyes, he replied:

“You are mine every night from now on.”

You could only keep up the banter for a while, huffing and complaining about how he didn’t own you, and that you were your own person. You were, but you submitted yourself willingly to him when he tugged at your arm to drag you to a dark alley. And you didn’t put up a fight. 

Your body shivered uncontrollably, hips jerking forward on their own accord. It was difficult to stand up and not succumb to the immense pleasure you were experiencing; if it wasn’t for Kenpachi’s hands on your thighs, you would have fallen down already. 

You moaned loudly, supporting yourself with hands against the wall, as Kenpachi devoured you from behind, your pants and panties discarded at your feet. His face, buried in the curve of your ass and between your legs, never left you, delving in your entrance, as if he had been craving your taste for years. As if he hadn’t just tasted you a few nights ago. His hands were burning your skin, digging his fingers where your ass and thigh met to keep you as still and open for him as he could. 

You had objected to this affair for a number of reasons, but you had forgotten what they were then. He was just too good. That a man as big and proud as Kenpachi was kneeling behind you, eating you out from behind, was a thrill on its own; but his tongue and mouth were marvelous, exploring every inch of you, making your veins pulse with pleasure. 

He slurped and hummed, kneading your flesh every time his tongue pressed inside you just right, making you press back against his mouth. You panted heavily as he lapped at your clit next, coaxing you closer to the edge of an amazing orgasm. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come…” You warned him, reaching behind to thread your fingers in his hair. 

Kenpachi growled, animalistic and raw, as he kept swirling his tongue against your pussy, not leaving any bit of skin untouched. 

Your legs shivered when you came a few moments later, seeing white behind your lids as a long, dragged out moan left your lips. His firm grip on your thighs tightened, keeping you in place as he coaxed out more and more of your release. 

When you yanked at his hair, wordlessly commanding him to stop, Kenpachi pulled back. He only gave you a second to respire, standing up and positioning himself behind you. You didn’t even register what he was doing until he pulled down his hakama enough to free his cock, and his big hands on your hips made you gasp when he brought you closer, making you stand on your tiptoes to align your pussy with his dick. 

Kenpachi didn’t waste any second in sliding his erection inside you. You let out a choked out moan, thigh shuddering as you struggled to accommodate his size, but you could barely do anything, your toes hardly reached the floor. 

You were small, vulnerable, when he started to thrust against your pussy. You tried to keep your balance with your hands against the wall, but every jerk of his hips made you totter, and his cock grazing the deepest part inside you left you speechless. You were going to be sore the next day; just like you had been after the first time you laid with him. He was simply too big, thick, making it a tight fit for him each time he glided inside you.

Grunting and groaning against your neck, Kenpachi hovered over your body, covering you completely with it. He wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you close to his body, his other hand sneaking under your clothes to grope your breast. You whimper in overwhelming delight when he pinched your nipple just as the tip of his cock pressed against a sensitive spot inside you. 

“Look at you, you can’t even talk.” He mocked you, roughly squeezing your tit. “No one else would make you feel this way.”

You wished you had it in you to contradict him, but it would have been in vain. You were moaning, mewling and whining as if you were being tortured, but it was all due to his touch, his hands on your body, his lips against your neck, and his cock relentlessly sliding in and out of your pussy.

“You’re mine.” Kenpachi said against your ear, voice spilling lust, giving you goosebumps. “ You belong to me, don’t forget it.”

Your eyes rolled back when the heat inside your abdomen built up, closer and closer to the edge of an impending orgasm.

[jweekgoji]

can u write some more yandere d-16 pls 😭🙏

D-16/Reader.

tw: yandere themes, power dynamic, size difference/size kink, soft yandere!d-16, cogless!d-16, cogged!reader, idol/fan relationship, jealousy/possessiveness, 18+ content. word count: ~720. a/n: FUCK russia for that huge fucking explosion in my city when I was writing alien-robots sex.

Normal D-16 is a total head over heels for his idol. Yandere D-16 lacks any sense of dignity when it comes to even the slightest chance of meeting you.

You can tell he's inexperienced, by the way you briefly trace the tips of your fingers over the side of his waist, the smaller bot on top of you shivering in pleasure, biting his lip.

His bright orange optics focused on the slightest of your action as you guided your servo higher, to his chassis. Was it really happening? Or is he dreaming? Maybe it was all Orion's fault, and he just hit his head hard enough during this race, so now he's imagining things...

“gonna overload now?” you purr softly, tracing your index finger over the edge of the hole on his chassis, just where his t-cog supposed to be.

“i—i am not,” he tries to protest, which sounds so weak that he's not even sure if he even believes himself.

he can't just...overload from a bit of foreplay, can he? it would be too embarrassing, you're his hero, his idol— he doesn't want to look pathetic in front of you, now that he's got such a chance, it would be foolish to lose it all now.

you push another finger deeper, teasing the cold edges of his hole, he can't help but thrust forward, his optics fluttering closed. you hear a soft ‘mmph—’, before he hides his face against the crook of your neck.

how cruel of you to tease the hell out of the no-cog? being with your own cog all your life, you had no idea that these areas could be...quiet sensitive for the cogless. you wonder if you can make him overload just from that.

you can feel his servos awkwardly moving towards your waist, tightening slightly. are you fine with it? with his servos right here? or should he put them somewhere else? his processor running with millions of thoughts, but when you gently guide him to continue moving his hips, he groans.

“i don't want to...not now, please,” he mutters softly against your neck, his breath heavy, as he struggles to control himself and not just melt right next to you.

you tilt your head, raising an optic bridge at that. you can only think about how he feels right now, his spike buried deep inside you, and your soft, warm walls around him just feel too good, too perfect for someone who spent cycles fragging his own servo in dreams of this moment before.

for you, it was barely something. he's short, only reaching your waist, at best. you can easily cover the whole length of his spike with your servo if you want, but there was some kind of sick pleasure in it, watching him squirm in his place, keeping his hips still so he wouldn't just overload in you here and there.

D-16 is so sensitive, it is almost amusing how he is considered one of the strongest and toughest among the other miners. you think, is it because of lack of intimacy? or was it just you, driving him to nearly short circuit? it's so unfair, but can he really hate it now, when it's exactly what he dreams of every single day?

he wants it to be perfect, so he could make you feel good, so you would beg him to take you, moaning his name just so everyone would finally understand that you're his. he's so sick and tired of being jealous, watching you smile and pose next to your fans, giving them your attention and affection when it was him who was supposed to have all of that? you're his, his, his, he's going to try so hard to claim you now, so maybe then everyone would just—

but when you press your digits harder, lightly scratching the metal surface of the empty t-cog slot in his chassis, he tenses up, arching his back in pleasure. the muffled, shaky moan escapes his lips, as he hides his face further against your neck, now trying to catch his own breath.

wait. did he just overload inside you?

[moonstruckme]

Thawing Out

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16

cw: modern au, chronic pain, mention of Sirus' family but no talk of abuse, some talk of traumatic injury

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Sirius hates the cold. It makes him look ill, his nose always runs, and he does not have a head made for hats. 

The walk to the rink yesterday was bad, with the chill and the early hour and the dark mood that seemed to permeate him like it infused his very blood, but you made it better by being yourself. He suspects you might have even been going out of your way to be sweeter than usual, given that you knew it was the anniversary of the day Sirius ran away from his family’s home. You’d tried to cheer him up. Still, yesterday was bad.

Today is worse. 

You’re silent as you stalk down the sidewalk, one boy on either side of you. You said hello to both him and Remus as you stepped out the door of your apartment, and then that was it. If it were Sirius it might make sense, but you always have an unnatural amount of energy in the mornings. Obviously you’re not speaking to him. And Sirius is still upset about the addition of the death spiral to your routine, so he’s not speaking to Remus. And Remus is hardly one to spark up conversation during an uncomfortable silence, so that just makes the three of you a very sullen, very silent procession to your early fucking morning practice. 

Except when you arrive, the rink is already bustling. You take one step inside before going back out the door, forcing both boys back outside with you.

“What the fuck?” Remus tries to peer inside. For once, Sirius agrees with him. “Who’s taken our slot?”

“I don’t know,” you say, but you’re still standing in front of the door like you’re barring their entry. “I’m going to go find out. You guys stay here.” 

“Why?” Sirius asks.

Even when you look at him you’re not really looking at him, your eyes distant. If you’re trying to make him feel like shit, it’s working. “Because I don’t need either of you going in there to bite someone’s head off. I’ve got it.” 

With that, you slip inside, not giving either of them a chance to argue. Sirius supposes he could go after you anyway, but you seem like you’d bite his head off, and he’s hurting enough from the cold without that extra ailment to contend with. He pulls out a cigarette instead. 

“You really shouldn’t do that,” Remus hums, but when Sirius looks over the other boy is lighting up too, a cig dangling from the corner of his mouth. When he sees Sirius struggling with his lighter, his fingers frozen and clumsy, he rolls his eyes and steps closer. 

Sirius goes still as Remus cups a hand around his cigarette, lithe fingers an inch from his mouth. The lighter rasps once, and the warmth next to Sirius’ face is a welcome sensation. When Remus steps away Sirius straightens his shoulders, expression carefully impassive as he inhales. He doesn’t thank him. 

“She’ll have your ass for doing it, too,” he says. 

Remus lifts a brow, blowing smoke out one corner of his mouth. “Why? I don’t need my lungs for anything.” 

Sirius shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. She thinks she should be in charge of the whole world.” 

A soft chuckle. Remus looks out to where the sun will rise in a few hours, the sky still a sweet blue. “Maybe she should be.” 

Sirius can’t help a little smile at that. He takes comfort only in knowing Remus doesn’t see. “Don’t let her hear you say that.” 

They lapse into a brief silence, easier and more contented than Sirius would have thought possible between the two of them. It breaks only when you come bustling back out the doors. 

“Okay, so apparently—” You stop, looking between them both. “Guys. Seriously?” 

“What?” Remus asks, but Sirius knows better, dropping his cigarette and stamping it out. 

Your gaze flicks over him, almost approving but still a far cry from friendly. He swears your mouth wants to smile at him, only you’re not letting it. 

“Those are so bad for you,” you tell Remus. 

He levels you with a dry look, the brave bastard. “What does it matter? I’m not an athlete.” 

You wince but don’t back down. “Athletes aren’t the only ones with reason to live past fifty.” You give him a hard look. It takes a while, but eventually Remus relents, dropping his cigarette as Sirius had. You nod, crouching to pick up both dog-ends and taking them to a bin. “Each one shortens your life by eleven minutes, you know.” 

Remus meets Sirius’ eyes, incredulous. “She comes prepared with statistics?” he asks in a hushed voice. 

Sirius nods. “Told you so.” 

You brush your hands off on your pants. “Okay. Anyway, hockey practice got moved up.” 

“You’re joking,” says Remus. 

“Nope. And, someone else got wind of it before us, because the slot they had at nine has already been filled. We can’t practice today.” 

Sirius shakes his head. “Bullshit. Why did hockey get moved?” 

You shrug, hugging your middle so your hands can burrow under your arms for warmth. “Management said they didn’t know, only that someone on the team asked for a different slot just for today. Seems like they were sweet-talked into it.” 

Your eyes meet Sirius’ for half a second, and he takes out his phone, frigid thumbs anger-typing away. 

“So that’s it then?” Remus asks. He looks like he’d really like his cigarette back. “We’ve just woken up before dawn and we’re not going to practice?” 

You sigh. “Seems that way. We can come back during open skate, but you know how that is.” 

Sirius scowls, and Remus’ expression twinges with distaste. “Yeah,” says Remus, “let’s wait until tomorrow.” 

You all break where you usually do, though hours ahead of schedule, Remus going off towards his place and Sirius walking you in the direction of yours. 

“Fancy a coffee?” he asks you, voice intentionally light. 

It has the expected effect. You bristle at his easy tone, keeping your eyes ahead. “No, thanks.” 

“Fair enough.” Sirius would really like something to warm his hands, but he suspects he needs to pick his battles with you today. “Fancy telling me when we’re going to be friends again?” 

You blow out a harsh breath. It crystalizes in front of you, and you walk right through. “Don’t be daft. We’re always friends. It’s because I’m your friend that I’m so pissed off with you.” 

He nods slowly. “I don’t follow.” 

You shake your head, anger quickening your pace so that Sirius is nearly jogging to keep up with you. “Why can’t you ever stay out of your own way?” you ask him. “I know yesterday was hard for you, but you can’t be an asshole to everyone just because you’re having a bad day.” 

“Hey now, that’s not fair.” Sirius knows joking probably isn’t the best tactic with you right now, but he can’t help himself. “I wasn’t an asshole to you, was I?” 

“That’s what I mean!” You stop so hard he nearly plows into you, but you don’t so much as flinch at the possibility. Your stare is fierce. “You can’t keep trying to scare him off. It’s not going to work, and we need him. Can’t you see how much better he’s made us already? I know you didn’t want a coach, but Remus is good for us. So you can stop being so difficult.” 

“I am not being difficult,” says Sirius, though he often is. You stick your tongue in your cheek, annoyed, and he fights the urge to take your face in his hands. He hates having you cross with him, but at least you’re talking. “And you don’t know what we would be like if he weren’t here. We might’ve been fine.” 

You sigh, looking suddenly tired. And so, so disappointed. “That’s not the point anyways. You know what you said to him yesterday was wrong.” 

Sirius feels a dull stab in his gut. He knows. He does. He knew it the second it came flying out of his mouth, and he has no idea why Remus doesn’t seem as livid with him as you are. Remus, with his even voice and his exasperated, knowing looks and that stern little wrinkle between his brows, who seems able to wind Sirius up better than anyone else. A match to his short fuse. 

“How would you feel?” you ask. Some of the anger has fallen away from your voice, leaving it soft and sad. “What if we went to competition in a few weeks, and you injured yourself so that you knew you could never skate again. And then someone used it to mock you.” 

“He’s risking us doing that,” Sirius says, stubbornly, though he can hear the plea in his own voice, “by asking us to change the routine.” 

“He’s trying to help us,” you reply firmly. But your shoulders droop, and you sigh. “I know you feel bad about it. I’m done being mad at you now. It’s exhausting.” 

Sirius feels too hollowed out to revel much in the victory, but your arm linking through his does help some. “Some could say that was my plan all along,” he jokes weakly. 

You make a halfhearted attempt at a chuckle. “Good thing I know better. If your hands are in danger of falling off, you could stop at mine, make yourself a coffee.” 

“When I asked you for coffee five minutes ago you said no.” 

“Yeah, I wasn’t done punishing you yet.” 

[winterarmyy]

A Fucking Treasure

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: A date gone wrong? Same old, same old. But, having Bucky pinning her against the wall, now that’s new.

Pairing: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Words: 6.1k++

Warnings: 18+ content, no minors allowed, nsfw, fingering, nipple play, marking kink(?), multiple orgasm, praise kink, dry wet humping, cum eating(?), p in v, going in raw, creampie and well you know me, i can’t write smut without some sort of angst or fluff, so yeah, body insecurities, super sweet bucky but also needy and insatiable bucky.

Inspiration: i was mentioned by @mercurial-chuckles in her Smutty September Fest post and some of the prompts fit nicely with one of my wip. Btw, thank you for tagging me! I feel included 💕

Prompt number: #5 body worshipping + #16 accidental i love you’s during sex

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Bucky’s footsteps were heavy as he made his way to the kitchen, but the quiet hum of the refrigerator was enough to mask the sound of his movements. The dim light from the hallway barely reached the living room, casting long shadows across the area.

It has been a routine for him to wake up in the middle of the night, the nightmares of his memories haunting his sleep, dragging him back into the darkest corners of his past. He was used to it. But tonight was different. There were no memories clawing at him, no ghosts whispering in his ear. Instead, his mind was consumed by thoughts of her.

He wished to hold her, to feel the warmth of her skin against his, to trace the curve of her cheek with his fingertips. He longed to pull her close, to bury his face in the crook of her neck and breathe in her scent, to hear the soft, steady rhythm of her breath as she slept beside him. The thought of it sent a shiver down his spine; a yearning so deep it bordered on desperation. 

So he decided to clear his head, avoiding letting his head stay in the gutter.

He let out a sigh, not one of sadness, but of suppressed desire, the kind that made his heart race and his cock stirred. As he reached for a glass, something caught his eye; a silhouette on the couch. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat when he recognized the figure lying there, motionless, as if the day had been too much to bear.

It was Y/N.

Confusion clouded his mind. She wasn’t supposed to be here. 

A few hours ago, she’d been dressed to kill, draped in that black satin dress that clung to her in all the right places. The sweetheart neckline framed her delicate collarbones; the softness of her cleavage was bare for him, and the high slit teased him with every step she took. He had admired her silently, his gaze dark with something he didn’t dare voice. The way the fabric had caressed her skin, the soft curve of her shoulders, the way the dress accentuated her body; he couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

She was breathtaking.

They had made eye contact, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. His gaze was feral, full of unspoken want, yet his lips remained sealed tight, trapping the words he wanted so desperately to say. If she had super hearing, she’d have heard the low, approving hum that rumbled deep in his throat. But then, the moment shattered. His heart broke a little when he heard her mention to Natasha that she was going on a date. The words were like a punch to the gut, knocking the air out of him.

He had been sitting at the kitchen counter at that time, listening as Sam and Natasha hyped her up, teasing her about how lucky her date was going to be. Bucky stayed quiet, forcing himself to look away, fighting the jealousy that gnawed at him. It wasn’t fair; he had no right to feel this way, but he couldn’t help it. The thought of her with someone else, someone who could give her everything he couldn’t; it was unbearable.

But now, she was here. Alone.

Sleeping on the couch in the same sinful dress that had driven him to distraction earlier. But the sight of her now was different. Her face was tear-streaked, her eyes puffy and red. It was clear she had been crying, and the sight of it twisted something deep within him.

Gently, he knelt to her level. He knew she was a light sleeper, so he approached with care, his metal fingers brushing softly against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open, and the moment they met his, they were filled with a mixture of surprise and vulnerability.

Bucky's voice was a low murmur, intimate and tender. “What are you doing sleeping here, babydoll?”

Her cheeks reddened, the flush deepening as she realised he was seeing her at her most unfiltered state. The thought made her heart race, and the way he spoke, so close and personal, only made it worse. The intimacy of the moment was too much.

She gathered herself, sitting up with a sigh. “I didn’t plan to… I was just…” Her voice trailed off, and her expression softened into one of sadness as the memories of the evening came flooding back.

It had started off well enough. They had connected online, his messages charming and full of wit, making her think that maybe, just maybe; this could be something. But the moment she met him in person, she noticed a shift. The easy smile he’d worn in his profile pictures seemed a little tighter, the warmth in his eyes dimmed.

As they sat across from each other at the restaurant, she couldn’t ignore how his gaze kept drifting downwards. His eyes lingered a little too long on the exposed parts of her chest, his attention fixating on the stretch marks that she usually tried so hard to ignore. She had seen the change in his expression; the way his gaze hardened, a slight frown creasing his brow, followed by a low scowl that he probably thought she couldn’t hear.

Then, out of nowhere, he just left. No explanation, no goodbye; just a curt excuse about needing to use the restroom, and then he was gone, leaving her alone at the table with a half-finished meal and a hollow ache in her chest.

She knew why he left. She had seen that look before, the way his eyes lingered on her stretch marks, the way his expression shifted from interest to disdain. It was the same with most of the guys she went on dates with. The moment they saw the imperfections, they would withdraw, their interest waning before her very eyes.

She knew they hated the stretch marks on her skin, found them hideous. It was in the way their eyes would momentarily widen in surprise, followed by a barely concealed grimace. She could see the discomfort in their expressions, the way they quickly looked away as if trying to erase the image from their minds.

At first she always thought stretch marks were normal. It was human nature, a part of life, a testament to growth and change. She had tried to embrace them, reminding herself that they were natural, that everyone had imperfections. But each time she saw that look of disgust, it chipped away at her resolve, making her question everything she’d tried so hard to believe. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t normal. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to have them. Maybe there was something fundamentally wrong with her.

She didn’t even know how she got back home. The memory was a blur, a haze of tears and jumbled thoughts. She remembered crying, feeling the tears stream down her cheeks as she stumbled out of the restaurant. But the rest was an utter fog. Did she walk home? She couldn’t remember. The city lights and the sound of her own sobs were all that lingered in her mind. It was as if her body moved without her conscious thought, carrying her back to the one place where she didn’t have to pretend everything was okay.

Bucky waited, his eyes searching hers, but she remained silent, fidgeting with the fabric of her dress. He could see the sadness lingering in her expression, and it didn’t take much for him to piece together that the date hadn’t gone well. A part of him was furious; how could anyone make her feel like this? She deserved to be cherished, not hurt. If it were him… if only she were his… He clenched his jaw at the thought, forcing himself to stay calm.

But, he knew better than to push her to talk about it. Instead, he simply reached out and took her hand in his, his touch gentle yet reassuring. “You must be tired. How about we get you to bed, hmm?” he said softly, his voice filled with a warmth that made her heart ache.

She nodded, still too caught up in her thoughts to speak. They walked in silence, Bucky leading the way while she followed just a step behind. Her eyes drifted down to their hands; knitly intertwined. His hand felt warm, comforting in a way that made her wish she could stay like this forever. The truth was, she didn’t even know why she kept trying to go out and date other men when the one she truly craved was right here, holding her hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

But then, the doubts crept in, as they always did. She was self-sabotaging, she knew that. She kept telling herself that she wasn’t good enough for him, that he could never truly want someone like her. Someone who didn’t have Natasha’s confidence, her grace, her perfect everything. Why would he look at her the way she longed for him to, when he could have someone like that?

Despite all her doubts, she couldn’t ignore the way his touch made her feel. 

Safe. 

Wanted.

Y/N almost bumped into Bucky’s back when he suddenly stopped. She blinked in surprise, realising they had already arrived at her room. “Oh, we’re here”, she thought to herself, feeling a strange mix of disappointment and relief. Bucky turned slightly, his gaze dropping to their still-intertwined hands before he gently led her to the door.

“Will you be alright, doll?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern. His thumb moved in slow, comforting circles on the back of her hand, a gesture so natural it was almost as if he didn’t realise he was doing it.

She nodded, but her response was barely more than a whisper. “Yeah…”

She tried to sound convincing, but her voice wavered, betraying the turmoil swirling inside her. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and for a moment, she was caught in the warmth of his gaze. Bucky looked at her with such tenderness, such genuine care, that it made the butterflies flutter wildly within her.

Bucky took a step closer, closing the small distance between them. His free hand reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face with pure adoration. As he touched her, his fingers lingered slightly, savouring the softness of her skin. 

He took in every detail: her eyes, even puffy and red from crying, held a beauty that made his heart go mushy. The tears that had streaked down her cheeks were a testament to the raw emotion she was feeling, a vulnerability he wished to protect. Her skin was delicate, and the way her lashes brushed against her flushed cheeks. Despite the distress she was experiencing, she was still incredibly beautiful in his eyes.

Bucky’s gaze finally settled on her pink, pouty lips, he felt an overwhelming urge to press his own lips against hers, if not to comfort her, then to taste the sweetness that he imagined was there. The thought of kissing her once, just once; seemed to consume him. He couldn’t hold back any longer. “You’re gorgeous, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincere admiration, hoping to convey just how deeply he felt about her.

But Y/N’s reaction was not what he expected. The words, rather than warming her, seemed to chill her further. She didn’t think he was insulting her by blatantly lying to her face; she just couldn’t bring herself to believe that he truly meant it. It sounded to her like a polite gesture, just another way of saying something nice in the face of her misery; a form of lip service.

Her lips twisted into a small, almost imperceptible frown, and she quickly looked away, her gaze falling to the floor. It was as if her brain refused to process the sincerity in his tone, unable to reconcile his words with the image she had of herself.

She scoffed, her voice tinged with disbelief. “Yeah, thanks,” she said, unable to fully accept the compliment.

Bucky’s hand stilled on hers, his thumb halting its comforting motion as her response sank in. He was taken aback, not by any notion of insult, but by the realisation that she didn’t seem to believe the sincerity of his words. His brows furrowed with concern, and he stepped even closer, his body nearly touching hers. His hands came back to gently hold her face, tilting it up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze.

“I mean it, Y/N,” he said, his voice firm yet tender. “You are beautiful. You always are.”

He searched her eyes, silently pleading with her to see herself through his eyes. His tone was unwavering, full of the affection he felt for her. 

But even as she looked into those blue eyes, the doubts that clouded her mind made it hard to fully accept his compliment. She couldn’t quite bring herself to believe that Bucky’s words were anything more than a kind attempt to cheer her up. The sincerity in his eyes was almost too much to process. Even if his compliments were meant to lift her spirits without fully reflecting his true feelings, she appreciated his kindness more than she could express.

A soft, fond smile appeared on her lips as she took in his earnest expression. “You’re so sweet,” she murmured, her voice tender. Gently, she stood on tiptoe, reaching up to pull him closer. With a delicate touch, she pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. Her lips lingered there for a brief moment, and she whispered against his skin, her breath warm, “Thank you for saying that, Bucky.”

Bucky’s heart pounded wildly in his chest as Y/N’s lips brushed against his cheek. The soft, lingering touch of her kiss, combined with the faint, intoxicating scent of her perfume, overwhelmed his senses. But when she pulled away, he felt a rush of heat flood through him, his control slipping. 

Overcome by an intense wave of feelings, Bucky pulled her back to him with a force and urgency that surprised even him. As he did, he could feel the warmth of her soft body pressing against his own, her delicate form moulding perfectly against him. He snuggled into the crook of her neck, inhaling her sweet, intoxicating scent, which seemed to envelop him entirely.

His lips found her neck, and he kissed her with a fervour that spoke of his overwhelming need. Each kiss was infused with a deep, desperate longing that he could no longer contain. Y/N didn’t push him away; instead, she clung to him, her hands gripping the fabric of his shirt, as if seeking comfort and reassurance in his embrace. The contact between them was electric, and the soft moans that escaped her lips only fueled his desire further.

When she leaned in closer, a low, guttural growl escaped Bucky. He responded eagerly as he sucked gently on her skin, enjoying the taste of her as his hands roamed over her back and sides, his touch possessive and desperate. His palms pawed at every curve he could reach, exploring her with a need that bordered on frantic.

Y/N’s moan was soft, a sound that almost drove him further into the depths of his desire. But as the sound of her pleasure reached his ears, reality hit him like a splash of cold water. He realised what he had done; his actions were driven by raw, sinful need rather than the tenderness he had intended; that she deserved. The realisation struck him hard, making him feel as though he had somehow taken something that wasn’t his to claim. 

So he pulled away abruptly, his eyes wide with guilt. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he stammered, his voice heavy with contrition. “I didn’t mean—”

But then, it was as if time slowed, allowing him to savour every delicate moment. As he pulled away, the sight that greeted him was almost more than he could handle. The tiny strap of her dress had slipped from her shoulders, revealing even more of the gentle curve of her cleavage, her doe-like eyes were fixed on him; hazed and heavy with emotion, her breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps, “Bucky…?”

The rush of desire he was so desperately trying to hold off, surged back through him, intensified by the vulnerability displayed before him. Bucky was barely able to maintain control. His heart raced, and the urge to be close to her again, to touch her, became nearly unbearable. In a moment of desperation and need, he guided her into her room, almost too urgent, too needy.

Once inside, Bucky pinned her gently against the door, his body pressing close to hers as he closed it with a soft click. His arms braced on either side of her, trapping her in a way that made her feel both vulnerable and electrified. The intensity in his gaze was palpable as he looked down at her, the hunger in his eyes undeniable.

“Fuck, babydoll,” he growled, his voice low and raw with yearning. “Please, let me touch you.”

His plea was a mix of desperation and want, a testament to how deeply he felt for her, even as he grappled with the boundaries he had momentarily crossed. The room was filled with an electrifying silence, broken only by the sound of their heavy breathing and the lingering intensity of the moment.

The voice she let out was almost too quiet, her tone tinged with a mix of curiosity and disbelief. “You want to touch me?” The question was almost a whisper, her eyes searching his ocean blues for the truth.

Bucky’s response was immediate, driven by the urgent need that surged through him. When his body responded faster than his words. He pressed his hardened bulge against her thigh, the physical evidence of his desire unmistakable. “Hmm, I wanna touch you, kiss you… want you so bad,” he murmured, his voice thick with desperation and lust.

Y/N’s breath hitched at the feeling of him against her, and her own passion began to match his intensity. “Touch me, Bucky,” she breathed out, her voice trembling with a mix of eagerness and anticipation. “Want you too. Want you all over me.”

His response was immediate. Bucky crashed his lips onto hers in a passionate kiss, their tongues dancing together as moans and groans filled the space between them. He effortlessly lifted her, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, and carried her to the bed. The heat between them was unfiltered, and as he laid her down, his hands were already working to strip himself of his clothes.

With a sensual precision, he unzipped her dress, whispering praises against her skin. But as the fabric slipped from her shoulders, revealing more of her body, she hesitated. Her hands moved to cover her breasts, instinctively hiding the marks she had always felt so self-conscious about. The events of the night had taken their toll, and though she wanted to believe him, doubt crept in.

Bucky noticed the shift in her eyes, the uncertainty that dimmed her earlier confidence. He paused, his gaze softening as he gently coaxed her. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, doll,” he murmured, his voice tender and reassuring. “You’re safe with me.” his fingers tracing soothing patterns on her skin as he waited for her to continue.

She hesitated, then took a deep breath, the words spilling out before she could stop them. “It’s just… the stretch marks,” she confessed, her voice barely audible. “My date tonight, he left because of them. It’s happened before, and I—I know it’s stupid, but I can’t help feeling like they’re… ugly.”

Bucky’s heart twisted at her words, anger flaring briefly at the thought of anyone making her feel this way. But he forced himself to remain calm, to be the comfort she needed. His thumb brushed the underside of her breast, sending shivers down her spine as he tried to ease her worries. “Well, aren’t I lucky to have these all to myself?” he teased, hoping to lighten the mood.

She whined softly, her tone serious. “I’m being serious, Bucky.”

His expression sobered, his brow furrowing with concern. “So am I.”

“Y/N,” he began, his voice soft yet firm, “...there is nothing ugly about you. Not your stretch marks, not anything. I’m so sorry those idiots couldn’t see that. But I do. And I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”

He watched as her defences slowly crumbled, her eyes searching his; for any sign of insincerity, but finding none. “Are you sure?” she asked, her voice wavering.

Bucky’s lips curled into a tender smile, “I’m very sure, Y/N. You have no idea how obsessed I am with you. All of you.” his hands gently pried hers away from her chest, revealing the parts of her that she wanted to hide the most. The sight before him made his cock twitch, arousal leaking from the tip as he took her in, completely captivated. “And these stretch marks?” His voice dropped to a husky whisper as his fingers traced over the marks on her skin. 

Y/N’s body responded instinctively. A shiver ran through her, her breath hitching at the sensation of his touch. The warmth of his hand contrasted with the coolness of the air, making her skin tingle where he caressed her. 

“Fuck, I love them.” His touch was reverent, almost worshipful, as he continued, “They’re proof of how your body adapts, changes, grows. It’s like your skin’s telling a story, and every line, every mark, is beautiful.” He pressed a kiss against one of the marks, his lips lingering as he added, “You’re a masterpiece, babydoll, every inch of you.” His words were heavy with pure hunger, his admiration clear as he looked up at her, eyes dark with passion.

Bucky's breath was warm against her skin, the contrast between his sweet words and the raw hunger in his eyes sending a shiver down her spine. As he leaned in, his lips brushed softly over the stretch marks he had just praised, and then his kisses deepened, becoming more fervent. He trailed his mouth along the curve of her breast, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin before he began to suck, leaving his own mark on her as if staking a claim.

Her body responded instantly, arching toward him, a quiet whimper escaping her lips. The combination of his hot mouth on her breast and the cool metal of his fingers tracing circles on her other nipple sent shockwaves of pleasure through her. His metal thumb and index finger rolled the sensitive bud, each movement sending a jolt of sensation that made her gasp, her breaths coming in short, rapid bursts.

Bucky didn’t stop there. He switched sides, his tongue flicking over her other nipple before capturing it between his lips, sucking and nibbling in a way that made her toes curl. Every touch was deliberate, meant to drive her wild, and it was working. Her hands found their way into his hair, tugging gently as if to anchor herself to reality amid the whirlwind of pleasure he was creating.

As his mouth worshipped her breasts, his fleshed hand began a slow descent, sliding across her stomach and leaving a trail of heat in its wake. When he reached the edge of her panties, he paused, revelling in the moment before pressing his flesh fingers against the soaked fabric. A low, approving growl rumbled in his chest as he felt how wet she was for him, the sound vibrating against her skin and making her moan louder.

He started to rub her clothed pussy with agonising slowness, applying just enough pressure to make her hips buck toward him, seeking more. His thumb found her clit through the fabric, rubbing slow circles that had her whimpering his name, her body begging for more of his touch. 

The dual sensations of his mouth and metal hand on her breasts and his warm fingers rubbing her pussy were too much. She was on fire, her entire body trembling under his touch, her mind lost in the addicting pleasure. Every nerve ending was alive with sensation, her moans growing louder as he increased the pressure, her body responding instinctively to the pleasure he was giving her.

Bucky, too, was lost in the moment. He groaned against her skin, the taste of her driving him insane. The way she reacted to his touch, the way she moaned his name, only fueled his desire. He needed more of her, needed to make her feel just how much he wanted her.

With a growl of pure need, he slid his hand under the waistband of her panties, and pulled the last piece of fabric off her. His fingers find her wet folds, slipping between them. "Fuck, babydoll, you're so wet for me,"  he murmured, his voice rough with passion. The way she responded to his touch only made him more desperate to worship every inch of her.

As his fingers moved inside her, Bucky’s thumb continued to circle her clit, the sensations pushing her closer and closer to the edge. His mouth and metal hand never left her breasts, continuing to tease her nipples until she was writhing beneath him. Her moans were desperate now, her body begging for release, and Bucky was more than happy to give it to her.

He pulled back for a moment, looking up at her with dark, adoring eyes. "You're so beautiful, Y/N," he whispered, pressing kisses along her chest. "I love the way you feel. Every part of you is perfect." His praises were soft, sincere, each word filled with pure admiration.

When he curled his fingers just right inside her, she arched off the bed, and he couldn’t help but marvel at her reaction. "Fuck, you’re incredible" he groaned, adding a second finger and feeling her tighten around him. “Love the way you taste, how you feel... hmmm, I need you so bad, Y/N” He was relentless yet tender, his every movement calculated to bring her to the edge of pleasure.

His lips found her breast again, tongue flicking over her nipple as he sucked and kissed her sensitive skin. His free hand never stopped caressing her, moving from her breast down to her stomach, then back to her other nipple, never leaving her wanting. "I wanna hear you scream for me, wanna feel you cum all over my fingers,” he growled between kisses, his words thick with arousal. 

Bucky’s thick fingers worked inside her with deliberate intensity, each thrust pushing deeper into her soaked core. He pumped his fingers in and out of her, his movements rhythmic and forceful. With each thrust, her wet juices squirted out, dripping and mixing with his harsh movements. The slick sound of his fingers sliding in and out, combined with the feeling of her arousal, drove him feral. His pace grew faster, his fingers curling and stroking with expert precision, drawing out her moans and cries of pleasure.

Y/N’s body responded to every touch, every word, her hips grinding against his hand as she chased the pleasure he was giving her. She was so close, so desperately close, and when Bucky twisted his fingers inside her, in places she never was able to reach before, and her world exploded in a blinding rush of pleasure. 

Bucky kept hitting that right spot inside her in every deep plunge of his fingers, until he could feel her tightening around him, her body trembling with the approach of her orgasm. His own need was growing unbearable, the taste of her nipples, the feel of her wet hole, driving him to the brink. He moaned against her breast, his voice thick with arousal as he told her how beautiful she was, how much he needed her, how much he loved the way she felt around him.

As her moans turned into desperate whimpers, he groaned in response. "That’s it, babydoll, let go for me. Let me feel how much you need this, need me," he urged, his voice thick with arousal. His thumb pressed harder against her clit, and his fingers pumped faster, pushing her closer and closer. “Cum for me yeah, fucking cum for me that’s it angel.”

“Buckyyyy”, She cried out his name, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she rode out the waves of ecstasy. Bucky groaned in response, feeling her tighten around his fingers, her pleasure only increasing make his cock throbbed with need.

He continued to move his hand, "So perfect. So fucking perfect." drawing out her orgasm until she was left panting, trembling beneath him. Only then did he finally pull his fingers from her, his hand wet with her arousal, and brought them to his lips, tasting her with a deep, satisfied groan.

Bucky’s own need was reaching a fever pitch, the taste of her, the feel of her soaking wet pussy gripping his fingers was too much to bear any longer. "Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you, can’t wait to make you mine," he moaned, his lips trailing down her body, leaving a path of hot kisses.

Bucky’s cock was almost unbearable as he pressed himself against her, his hard cock sliding between her drenched folds. Every night, he had fantasized about this moment, dreaming of the warmth and wetness of her body. So many nights, he’d ended up frustrated; his cum laid there wasted on his abs as he jerked off to thoughts of her.

Now, finally feeling her hot and wet against him, he was nearly driven mad with raging lust. He groaned softly, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps. His cock, heavy and throbbing, glided between her folds with a hunger that bordered on desperation. Each stroke elicited a shiver from her, her body sensitive and responsive from their earlier intimacy.

Bucky’s movements were urgent and almost primal. He humped against her, his moans a testament to his pleasure. “Fuck babyyy, you feel so amazing," he rasped, his breath coming in quick, uneven gasps. "You’re so fucking wet, Y/N. I’ve wanted this for so long, and it feels so. fucking. good."

Y/N’s has been a moaning mess under him, her body still tingling from the previous orgasm. The lingering sensations of his thick fingers inside her made every touch feel electric. Now, with his big, thick cock rubbing against her, her pussy twitched and pulsed in response.Each stroke was a jolt of heat, his tip bumping against her clit with every movement. Her hips trembled under his tight grip, her body reacting intensely to the pleasure.

Bucky’s moans were guttural, full of raw need as he lost himself in the sensation. "I’m not even inside you yet, angel," his cock rubbing insistently against her sensitive flesh as he panted, his voice trembling with desperation. "But, you feel so good, I’m gonna cum."

“Hmmm, Bucky… Bucky, please,” she whined, her voice trembling with need. “Feels so good… oh fuck! Cum on me, cum on me please...” Her words were almost incoherent, her pleasure overflowed from within, her body quivering and almost drooling from the way his cock was rubbing against her needy cunt.

Lost in his own world of lust, Bucky couldn’t get enough of her. He worshipped her pussy with a passion that left him breathless, his dirty talk coming out in desperate, needy groans. "You’re so fucking perfect, Y/N. I can’t get enough of you," he rasped. "You’re driving me insane. I want to mark you, claim you completely."

Their pleasure reached higher, each thrust and touch sending them both spiraling towards their orgasms. Bucky’s thrusts grew harsher, more insistent, as he chanted, “I’m cumming, doll. I’m cumming so hard.” His voice was raw with need, his body moving with a frenzied desire.

She was pleading, her voice a mix of desperation and pleasure. “Please, please, please…” Her words were breathless, each plea a testament to the intensity of their shared ecstasy. “I’m cumming, cumming on you baby, ‘m cummingg fuckkk,,”Bucky whined in absolute pleasure.

As they both came together, Bucky’s release was intense and overwhelming. His cock throbbed and twitched with every spasm, cum spilling endlessly from his tip in hot, thick ropes. Each pulse of his orgasm sent more of his seed dripping down onto her, coating her skin with the evidence of their union.

Even in the throes of his orgasm, Bucky continued to rub desperately against her twitching pussy, his movements frantic and unrelenting. “Still cumming for you, baby, paint you so pretty with my cum,” he groaned, his voice rough with need. The heat and friction were almost too much, his need to feel her and mark her as his luring him to continue. His cum painted a path up to her breasts, the warmth of it a vivid testament to his desire and dominance. 

He marked her completely, his release a physical declaration of his claim.

As Bucky’s release subsided, he looked down at her with eyes still feral and full of desire. She lay beneath him, breathing heavily, her body still quivering from the intensity of their climax. Bucky’s gaze lingered on her, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “So gorgeous, covered with my cream,” he murmured, his voice rough and slow. He lazily rubbed his still-hard cock against her swollen pussy, his movements deliberate and teasing. “Now I’m gonna paint your insides, then fill you to the brim.”

Her whimpers of need were barely coherent. “Please, wanna feel your cum inside me so bad,” she begged, her voice trembling with craving.

Bucky slipped inside her easily, his cock finding its way with a smooth, satisfying glide. “So fuckin’ tight, shittt,” he groaned, feeling the exquisite heat of her around him. His thrusts were powerful and deep, each movement sending waves of pleasure through them both. “Tight little pussy’s mine,” he growled. “You take me so perfect, baby.”

His filthy words gradually transformed into sincere praise, his voice softening with affection. “You’re so good to me,” he panted, his hands exploring her body with tender care. One hand played with her clit, rubbing it with a skilled touch that made her moan and writhe beneath him. The other hand teased her nipple, tugging it gently as he thrust harder and deeper.

And as Bucky continued to thrust into her, the sound of their bodies connecting was raw and unrestrained, each movement accompanied by the slick, wet noises of their joined pleasure. Despite the intensity, their dialogue remained tender and sweet. “I love you, Y/N,” Bucky whispered lovingly, his voice a mix of pleasure and adoration. “I love you so much, doll.”

She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Normally, such words would be met with doubt, but the way his cock was filling her completely, the intense pleasure he was giving her, and the look in his eyes—filled with an earnest, almost desperate longing—made it impossible to ignore. 

She moaned in response, her own voice trembling with emotion. “I love you too, Bucky,” she gasped, her words mingling with the sounds of their physical connection. 

Bucky’s thrusts grew more deep and harsh as he neared his climax. “I love you. I love you. I love you, Y/N,” he groaned, his hands rubbing a tight circle on her clit and tugging at her nipple. “Now, take my fucking cum.”

When Bucky finally released inside her, the sensation was nothing he ever felt before. He felt so good his eyes rolled back and his mouth fell open. His cock pulsing and throbbing with each spasm of his orgasm. His endless cream was flooding her, and with every thrust, it leaked out, creating a hot, sticky mess. The warmth and thickness of his release filled her completely, and the sensation of it escaping with each of his movements made him groan in pleasure.

Even as Bucky reached his high, he continued to fuck her through it, each thrust pushing his cum deeper into her. “You take me so well,” he moaned, his voice thick with emotion and need. Her own pleasure was amplified by the sensation of his cum inside her, her body responding eagerly to each thrust.

Afterward, Bucky remained inside her, relishing the intimate connection. He carefully cleaned the traces of his cum from her skin, his tongue gently licking and slurping it clean. “You’re perfect, babydoll,” he praised between licks, his voice soft and affectionate. “So beautiful, so fucking amazing.” He took his time, his lips brushing against her with care. “I’ve never felt anything like this,” he murmured. “You feel so good, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

She responded with soft moans and shivers of pleasure, her body reacting eagerly to his touches. Each lick and gentle caress made her quiver, her breaths coming in quick, shallow bursts as she felt his adoration and need. Her eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the sensation of being worshipped so completely.

Occasionally, Bucky would grind into her, savouring the way her pussy tightened around him, deepening his pleasure. “You’re such a fucking treasure,” he continued, his voice a blend of awe and desire. “I can’t get enough of you. You’re mine, and I’m never letting go.” She whimpered needily, her body responding to his movements with a mix of pleasure and longing.

He continued to move his hips against her, thrusting with a renewed sense of urgency and need. “It’s gonna be a long night ahead, baby,” he murmured, his voice filled with determination and passion. “I’m not gonna let you leave this bed until the only thing that leaks out of you is me.”

With that, he pressed into her once more, his movements both firm and tender, as he prepared for another round of intense, passionate connection.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Been collecting dust in my drafts for way too long. Now lemme hear your thoughts. Please? 🥹 And go send @mercurial-chuckles some love!

[sailorsoons]

On the Clock | Teaser (c.hs)

Pairing: Vernon x f. reader

Summary: Modern problems call for modern solutions, including naming a random stranger in the bookstore as your boyfriend to avoid an embarrassing encounter with your ex. The problem? The stranger is Vernon and he’s not supposed to be a stranger at all - he’s your coworker, and now everyone at the office - including your ex - thinks you’re dating. 

Word Count: TBD

Genre: Faking dating, Coworkers to Lovers, Romcom

Type: Smut, some fluff and crack

 Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

Warnings: Full fic warnings TBD but general warnings include explicit language, explicit sexual content, a little bit of a miscom trope, a hint of angst, a whole lotta stupid!

Written for the Lonely Hearts Cafe Collab by @camandemstudios

Masterlist | Ask | Join Tag List

COMING SUNDAY, FEB. 16

“Well,” Vernon (from IT) eventually says. “No harm done once you tell everyone we’re not dating.”

“Once I what?” 

“Well you’ll have to-”

“No way.”

“What?” 

“Do you know how embarrassing that would be?” 

He raises a brow. “More embarrassing than grabbing some dude in the bookstore and claiming he’s your boyfriend.” 

The air leaves your lungs and you melt into the seat, your misery showing. “I already said sorry.” 

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Just tell everyone you broke up with me.” You snort. 

“No one would believe that.” 

“Why?” 

Instead of answering him immediately, you busy yourself unraveling silverware. It’s a hard question to answer, not because you don’t know the answer but because you don’t want to tell him. Vernon (from IT) is quiet, though. Patient. 

He doesn’t press you for an answer, happy to wait you out until you’ve folded your napkin and placed it on your lap, and once again drained the rest of your water. It does nothing for your nerves as you fixate on a spot atop the table. 

“I don’t… date.” 

“You dated Minho.”

“Yeah. That’s uh… it. It’s kind of a running joke that I am undateable.”

He frowns at that. “Respectfully, I find that incredibly hard to believe.” 

“Thanks. I think.” You pick at a string in the tablecloth. “Anyway, no one would buy that I ended the first relationship I’ve had since Minho. I didn’t even end the last one and sort of clung to it in a way that was sort of embarrassing.” 

“I see.”

You’re unsure if he really does. When Minho had broken up with you, you’d attempt to make arguments to keep him around. Offered less work hours, even said you’d go to therapy to talk about your insane need for success. He hadn’t wanted any of it, and you’d eventually realized that he just… didn’t want you. 

They never did, when people realized what dating you entails. Everyone wants a woman who works hard. They like the illusion of it, the woman who gets up early in the morning and goes to workout before going to her corporate job and girl bossing all day long. They desire the woman who dresses fashionably, who wears designer tags and commands a room all day before coming home to make an effortless dinner followed by a luxurious night routine. 

And you get it. You want to be that too. But the truth is most days you wake up past your alarm and rush to the office wearing shoes that don’t match, and sometimes you come home so late and burned out from your job that you eat a handful of shredded cheese over the sink with a stick of beef jerky, only to do it all again the next day.

That wasn’t what anyone wanted. At least, not in your experience. 

“Anyway,” you clear your throat. “You’re right, or whatever. I should just tell them I lied. I’ve given worse news. Just you know - less personal.” 

For a few minutes, Vernon (from IT) is quiet. You don’t look up to meet his gaze. Instead you watch the ice cubes in your glass melt, little beads of condensation zigzagging down the curve of your glass. 

A sigh makes you look up at Vernon (from IT). “What if we dated for like a month or something?” 

“What?”

“I don’t mean really date,” he offers quickly, sensing your surprise. For some reason, that stings a little. You swallow it down past the knot forming in your throat. “It’ll get people off your back or whatever and we can just mutually end things.” 

“Really? You’d do that.” 

He shrugs a shoulder. “I guess, yeah.”

“You can break up with me,” you promise eagerly, leaning forward with the new promise of a solution to your problem. “Everyone will believe it. Just say I work too much and I’m too obsessed with my career.” 

An uneasy gaze flickers in Vernon (from IT)’s eyes. “It can be mutual,” he says firmly. “That way it ends nicely.”

“Fine. Everyone will think one thing anyway, you’ll get out without a scratch, trust me. Are you sure you’re willing to do this? I can… suck it up and tell everyone I made it up.”

“Do you really want to?” 

“No,” you admit.

“Then it’s settled.” He shrugs, heaving a heavy sigh. “I’ll give you a month and then we can mutually end things.” 

Sticking your hand over the table, you offer it for Vernon (from IT) to shake. His mouth twitches a little as he smiles, leaning forward to take your hand. His is warm and softer than you imagined, enveloping yours firmly as he shakes. 

“Deal,” you smile, feeling a glimmer of hope. 

Just like that, Vernon (from IT) becomes Vernon (your boyfriend). 

Sort of.

[novaursa]

The Flames We Carry

- Summary: Ser Criston Cole expected for Rhaenys and Meleys to appear over Rook's Rest. To Gwayne's horror, Rhaenyra sent her sister instead: you.

- Pairing: targ!reader/Gwayne Hightower

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is Rhaeyra's younger sister and is bonded to Silverwing. These events happen after Skyfall. If you want to read all the parts in chronological order visit my blog, the list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mature 16+ (there is no adult content, but there are visual descriptions of violence, blood and gore)

- Word count: 3 712

- A/N: this was scheduled to be posted tomorrow, but I've decided post extra today. Enjoy.

- Tag(s): @deniixlovezelda @duck-duck-goose2 @aadu2173 @sachaa-ff

Ser Gwayne Hightower had always been a man torn between loyalty and desire, but never more so than in the days leading up to the siege at Rook's Rest. The tension between him and Ser Criston Cole had grown sharper since that fateful day when he let you—the Princess, Y/N—slip through his grasp before their march on Duskendale. He could still feel the warmth of your skin against his, the taste of your lips lingering like a ghostly memory, a sweet torment. You had been his time and time again, even if only in stolen moments, and each encounter had deepened the scars on his heart.

Gwayne knew he should be focusing on the battle ahead, yet his thoughts strayed back to you, his mind replaying that night over and over. The look in your eyes when you realized he would let you go, when you understood the depth of his feelings despite all the bitterness that lingered between your Houses. He had set you free, knowing full well it was an act of treason in all but name, and yet he would do it again if it meant sparing you the horrors to come.

But now, at Rook's Rest, everything was escalating rapidly. Ser Criston's scorpion ballistas and archers were poised in ambush, waiting for the dragon they expected: Rhaenys on Meleys. The war council had been clear, and Gwayne had heard it all through gritted teeth—Aemond and Aegon would flank her on Vhagar and Sunfyre, trapping her in dragonfire and steel. It was a ruthless plan, one that made his stomach churn. He had sworn to protect his family, his king, and yet all he could think about was you.

The skies darkened, a shadow sweeping over the encampment. The men tensed, eyes raised to the heavens as the flap of wings grew louder. Gwayne’s heart pounded in his chest as he looked up, expecting the crimson scales of Meleys. But what he saw instead made his blood run cold.

Silverwing.

The graceful, silvery-grey dragon, once ridden by Queen Alysanne, now bonded to you. Gwayne’s heart twisted painfully in his chest. This was not supposed to happen. It was not supposed to be you in the skies above, facing down two monstrous dragons with only the loyal Silverwing at your side. Panic clawed at his throat, his mind racing. He could see it in Criston's eyes too—the slight widening, the realization that their ambush had just become a slaughter. Not for Rhaenys, but for you.

“No…” The word slipped from Gwayne’s lips before he could stop it. Without a second thought, he rushed toward the nearest scorpion, where soldiers prepared to take aim at Silverwing. His vision tunneled, anger and fear boiling together in his veins. He couldn’t let this happen—not to you.

"Stand down!" Gwayne shouted at the soldiers, shoving one aside with enough force to send the man sprawling. The crew looked at him in confusion, but Gwayne didn’t care. He grabbed hold of the crank, making it impossible for them to load the bolt.

“What in the Seven Hells are you doing?!” Criston’s voice was a venomous hiss as he stalked toward Gwayne, eyes blazing with fury. “You’re sabotaging the plan! Move, or I’ll have you—”

Gwayne spun around, his hand already on the hilt of his sword. “I won’t let you do this, Criston. Not to her.”

Criston’s lip curled in disgust. “Her? You would betray your king, your House, for a traitorous whore who—"

The sound of steel rang out as Gwayne drew his sword, slashing at the scorpion mechanism, rendering it useless. The soldiers scattered, unwilling to get caught in the confrontation between two knights who had both earned their deadly reputations. Criston’s eyes narrowed, and in the blink of an eye, his sword was in his hand, the tip leveled at Gwayne’s chest.

“You’ll die for this treachery, Hightower,” Criston spat, the words laced with venom.

“I would die a thousand times before I let you kill her,” Gwayne growled back, his voice low and dangerous. “I won’t let you harm her.”

Above them, the roar of dragons filled the air as Silverwing engaged with Sunfyre and Vhagar. Dragonfire crackled like thunder, the heat from the flames casting an eerie glow over the battlefield. You were up there, fighting for your life, for your cause. Gwayne’s heart ached with every fiery burst, knowing that each moment could be your last.

Criston lunged, and Gwayne barely parried the strike in time. The two knights clashed, steel against steel, each strike filled with desperation and fury. Gwayne fought with everything he had, driven by the need to protect you, even if it meant cutting down one of his own.

“Do you think she cares for you, Gwayne?!” Criston taunted between strikes. “She’s a dragonrider, a princess—she’ll never be yours! You’re a fool!”

“I know what I am,” Gwayne snarled, knocking Criston’s sword aside and slamming his shoulder into the other man’s chest, sending him stumbling back. “But I also know what I feel. And I’ll not stand by and let you murder her.”

Criston recovered quickly, rage twisting his features as he advanced again. “She chose Daemon over you! The Rogue Prince—do you think she’ll remember your name when she’s ash?”

Gwayne roared in fury, his blade a blur as he pressed the attack. The sounds of battle, of dragons shrieking and flames roaring, were deafening, but all Gwayne could hear was the pounding of his own heart, the desperate need to get to you, to save you. But with every second that passed, his hope dwindled, and fear gnawed at the edges of his resolve.

Then, the ground trembled, a shockwave of heat and force rippling across the battlefield as a massive burst of dragonfire erupted nearby. Gwayne staggered, the distraction costing him as Criston’s sword sliced across his side. Pain flared, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to fall. He couldn’t afford to fall—not when you needed him.

But as the flames subsided, a silhouette emerged through the smoke—Silverwing, descending, with you astride her. Your eyes, burning with determination and fury, locked onto the scene below: Criston standing over a wounded Gwayne, ready to deliver the killing blow.

“Y/N!” Gwayne shouted, his voice raw with desperation.

You didn’t hesitate. With a command, Silverwing unleashed a torrent of dragonfire, forcing Criston to leap back, narrowly avoiding being consumed by the flames. In the brief reprieve, Gwayne stumbled to his feet, clutching his side.

Your gaze met his, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The memory of that last kiss, of your shared moments, hung between you like an unspoken vow. Gwayne knew he had only seconds before the battle resumed, but in those few heartbeats, he saw the truth in your eyes—the love that had never truly died, the bond that still connected you, even through war and betrayal.

But there was no time for words. With a final, lingering look, you turned Silverwing toward the sky, preparing for the next wave of the fight. And as you ascended into the chaos once more, Gwayne knew he would fight until his last breath to protect you, even if the whole world stood against him.The battle raged on, but in that moment, Gwayne Hightower’s heart belonged to only one—you.

The battlefield below Rook’s Rest was a symphony of chaos and death, the sky a canvas painted with fire and blood. Gwayne could only watch in helpless agony as you and Silverwing clashed in the heavens with Sunfyre and Aegon, two dragons locked in a deadly dance of tooth and claw. Overhead, the monstrous shadow of Vhagar circled like a vulture, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Every screech of agony, every roar of defiance, was a knife twisting deeper into Gwayne’s chest.

On the ground, Criston Cole barked orders, his eyes fixed on the battle above. The soldiers scrambled, trying to reload the scorpions, but the dragonfire raining down made their task near impossible. Bolts flew haphazardly, striking neither dragon nor rider, only adding to the carnage below as men screamed, burning alive in dragonflame. Gwayne’s heart pounded in his ears, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the clash in the sky.

Silverwing and Sunfyre circled each other in a blur of flashing claws and snapping jaws, the air thick with the scent of burning flesh and blood. Gwayne could see the desperation in the way you leaned into every attack, urging Silverwing forward with a fury that matched his own. Aegon, though armored in golden scales and atop his mighty Sunfyre, was losing ground; he was not the rider you were, and Sunfyre, for all his pride, was no match for Silverwing’s speed and power.

“Hold fast, Sunfyre!” Aegon’s voice cut through the air, laced with both command and fear. But the king’s bravado was slipping. The once-proud Sunfyre shrieked in pain as Silverwing’s talons raked across his side, tearing through scales and flesh. Blood sprayed like rain, glistening in the sunlight before falling onto Criston’s soldiers below, causing them to scatter in panic.

Gwayne could feel his grip tightening on his sword as he watched, torn between the desire to cheer for your victory and the dread that this battle would consume you. Criston, standing nearby, had forgotten Gwayne entirely, his eyes alight with a mixture of awe and hatred. “If Sunfyre falls, so falls our king,” Criston muttered to himself, though Gwayne could hear the edge of panic in his voice.

But you would not give Sunfyre a moment of reprieve. Silverwing descended with fury, slamming into the golden beast with the force of a hurricane. The clash was brutal, teeth and claws tearing through scales, blood and fire mingling as the two dragons grappled. Sunfyre roared, a cry filled with both pain and rage, as Silverwing’s jaws clamped down on his wing.

“No!” Aegon’s scream echoed across the battlefield, his eyes wide with disbelief as Silverwing’s powerful muscles twisted and tore, shredding Sunfyre’s wing almost completely from its body. The golden dragon thrashed wildly, his flight faltering as the wing dangled uselessly by a thread of sinew and bone.

Gwayne’s breath caught in his throat, torn between elation and horror. You were winning, but at what cost? He knew what was coming next. Vhagar, that ancient beast of war, had been waiting for this moment. With a bellow that shook the very ground, the monstrous she-dragon descended like a nightmare from the skies, her jaws wide and hungry.

“Look out!” Gwayne shouted, knowing full well you couldn’t hear him from so far below. His heart thundered in his chest as Vhagar slammed into both Silverwing and Sunfyre with the force of a landslide. The three dragons collided in a tangle of limbs, scales, and teeth, a storm of rage and destruction. The impact was so fierce that Gwayne felt the ground shudder beneath him.

“No! No, no, no…” Gwayne whispered, his voice cracking as he watched the entangled dragons plummet toward the earth. You and Aegon were mere shadows against the backdrop of fire and smoke, barely visible as the dragons twisted and fell in a deadly spiral. Criston’s soldiers, caught between the descending juggernauts and their own fear, broke ranks, fleeing in every direction as the ground rushed up to meet the falling beasts.

Gwayne felt a cold dread settle in his bones as he watched you, desperately holding onto Silverwing’s saddle as the world blurred around you. You clung on with a ferocity that spoke to your will to survive, but against Vhagar’s ancient fury and Sunfyre’s desperate thrashing, even the mighty Silverwing was struggling.

Criston’s eyes were wild as he watched the battle unfold, his voice a harsh whisper of disbelief. “Vhagar will end it… she must end it…”

But Gwayne wasn’t watching Vhagar anymore. He was watching you. You were still fighting, still urging Silverwing to fight back, but the odds were overwhelming. Sunfyre’s golden scales were slick with blood, his roars more pitiful now as he struggled to right himself in the air. Silverwing’s wings beat furiously, trying to break free from Vhagar’s crushing grip, but the elder dragon’s jaws clamped down on Silverwing’s neck, dragging all three dragons toward the ground with terrifying speed.

The earth shook as the three dragons smashed into the battlefield, the impact sending up a cloud of dirt and debris. The sound was deafening—a sickening crunch of bone and screech of metal as the dragons collided with the earth. Gwayne’s heart dropped into his stomach, his eyes searching desperately through the smoke and dust for any sign of you.

“No…” he whispered, stumbling forward as if he could somehow reach you, somehow pull you from the wreckage of dragons and death. But even from here, he could see the carnage—Silverwing’s body twisted and battered, Sunfyre writhing in agony, and Vhagar looming above them all, a monstrous shadow of death.

For a heartbeat, the battlefield fell silent, every eye fixed on the wreckage of the fallen dragons. Gwayne’s breath was ragged, his eyes straining to catch a glimpse of you amidst the chaos. The dust began to settle, revealing broken bodies, shattered armor, and the mangled forms of the dragons.

And then he saw you—barely visible, still moving. You crawled from beneath Silverwing’s wing, blood streaking your face, your expression fierce even in the face of such overwhelming odds. Gwayne’s heart leaped into his throat. You were alive. Against all the odds, you had survived the fall.

But the battle was far from over. Vhagar’s malevolent eyes fixed on you, a deep rumble echoing from her throat as she prepared to finish what she had started. Aegon, still clinging to the last shreds of his pride, shouted commands to Sunfyre, but the once-majestic dragon was crippled, struggling even to rise.

Gwayne turned to Criston, his voice hoarse with desperation. “Do something! Call them off—she’ll be slaughtered!”

But Criston’s eyes were cold, devoid of mercy. “It’s too late, Hightower. She made her choice.”

Before Gwayne could respond, a deafening roar split the air as Vhagar reared back, ready to unleash a final torrent of fire upon you and Silverwing. Gwayne’s breath caught, knowing he was powerless to stop what was coming. All he could do was watch in helpless horror as the monstrous she-dragon prepared to strike.

But in those last moments, your eyes locked onto his. Even from across the battlefield, Gwayne saw the fire in your gaze—the unyielding determination, the refusal to surrender, even in the face of certain death. It was a look that would be seared into his memory forever.

And as Vhagar’s jaws parted, ready to unleash death upon the field, Gwayne did the only thing he could—he prayed. For you, for Silverwing, and for the love that had been forged in the fires of war.

It felt like time itself had slowed, the moments stretching into agonizing eternity. His breath hitched as the flames began to build in Vhagar’s throat, the light of impending destruction flickering in her maw. It would be over in seconds—everything would be lost.

But then, with a burst of speed that took even Gwayne by surprise, Silverwing jolted forward, her wings beating with desperate strength. As Vhagar’s jaws parted to unleash her fiery death, Silverwing struck. The smaller, silvery dragon lunged at Vhagar’s exposed throat, her teeth sinking into the tender scales. Her bite was unrelenting, fueled by both fury and the need to protect you. Vhagar’s flame sputtered out in a roar of agony, the ancient beast thrashing wildly as she tried to shake off the determined Silverwing.

Gwayne’s eyes widened in awe and terror. Silverwing’s tail snapped like a whip, striking Vhagar’s head with a force that reverberated across the battlefield. The blow landed squarely on Vhagar’s eye, the sound of bone and scale cracking sickeningly loud. The she-dragon’s roar of pain was a monstrous, guttural cry that seemed to shake the heavens. Even Aemond, usually so composed in battle, shouted in fury and alarm, yanking hard on the reins to regain control of his wounded dragon.

Gwayne knew he had only moments to act. Blood was streaming down your face, and even from a distance, he could see the exhaustion and pain etched into your features. You laid on the ground, barely holding on to life as Silverwing thrashed against Vhagar’s deadly strength. It was a miracle you had survived this long, but that miracle was on the brink of shattering. Gwayne’s decision was made in an instant, despite the searing pain in his side and the chaos around him.

Nearby, a riderless horse whinnied in terror, its eyes rolling as it tried to flee the madness. Gwayne gritted his teeth, limping toward the panicked creature. “Easy, girl,” he rasped, wincing with every step. The horse reared, wild with fear, but Gwayne moved with surprising swiftness, grasping the reins and swinging himself into the saddle with a grunt of pain. Blood stained his tunic from his earlier wound, but he forced himself to push through it. There was no time to dwell on it—not when you were up there, fighting for your life.

“Where are you going, you fool?!” Criston’s voice rang out behind him, filled with fury. “You’ll die, Hightower! Come back!”

But Gwayne was deaf to Criston’s commands. He spurred the horse forward, urging it toward the burning wreckage of dragons, toward you. The horse resisted at first, terrified by the scent of blood and fire, but Gwayne was relentless, guiding it with strong hands and determined resolve. The animal finally obeyed, its hooves pounding against the earth as it charged through the smoke and debris.

Criston cursed behind him, and Gwayne heard the clatter of armor as the Lord Commander sprinted after him, but Gwayne didn’t care. All that mattered was reaching you.

Above, the struggle between Silverwing and Vhagar intensified. Aemond’s curses mingled with the roars of his dragon as he tried to force Vhagar to tear herself free, but Silverwing was like a vice, her jaws locked onto Vhagar’s throat. The she-dragon’s great wings buffeted the air, but even Vhagar, with all her size and strength, was struggling against the tenacity of her smaller opponent. Silverwing’s wings were shredded, her silvery scales bloodied, but she refused to let go. She was holding on not just for herself, but for you.

“Y/N!” Gwayne’s shout cut through the chaos as he neared the spot where you lay half-alive below Silverwing’s wing. He could see that you were barely conscious, your grip weak on your sword as you fought to stay awake. Desperation fueled his every move as he urged the horse closer, reaching out to you. “Hold on! I’m coming!”

Through the haze of pain, you blinked up at him, your eyes unfocused. “Gwayne?” Your voice was faint, tinged with disbelief. “You… you shouldn’t be here…”

“I’m not leaving you!” Gwayne snapped, his voice rough with emotion. With a final burst of strength, he dismounted down beside you, reaching for your arm. The moment his hand grasped yours, you seemed to come back to life, your eyes clearing just enough to recognize him fully.

“Gwayne… you need to run,” you gasped, wincing as another jolt of pain coursed through you. “She’s going to kill us all…”

“Not today,” he vowed, pulling up with him and onto his horse. You were light in his arms, weakened from battle and injury, but there was still a flicker of the fierce spirit he had always admired in you. “I’ll get you out of here, I swear it.”

Criston’s voice was closer now, filled with anger. “Hightower, you’ll be executed for this!” he roared, but Gwayne didn’t even spare him a glance. He dug his heels into the horse’s flanks, and the animal surged forward, carrying you both away from the hellish scene behind you.

As the horse galloped across the field, Gwayne glanced back over his shoulder just in time to see the moment when Silverwing’s strength finally gave out. Vhagar’s claws found purchase, tearing deep into Silverwing’s side, and with a heart-wrenching cry, the silver dragon was forced to release her grip. Vhagar reared up, triumphant and bloodied, but the cost of the battle was clear—her eye was ruined, her scales cracked and bleeding. Silverwing collapsed onto the battlefield, her wings crumpling beneath her, but even then, she snarled defiantly, refusing to bow.

But there was no more fight left in her. Gwayne’s heart broke as he watched the light fade from Silverwing’s eyes, her body slumping in exhaustion. Aemond’s laughter echoed through the sky, dark and cruel, as he urged Vhagar to take the final blow. But before Vhagar could finish her fallen opponent, Gwayne’s eyes caught the movement of Criston as he halted his pursuit.

“Cole!” Aegon’s voice was a ragged gasp, filled with pain and panic. The king lay on the battlefield, unmoving, his once-golden armor scorched and twisted from the flames. His face was barely recognizable, the flesh blistered and raw, his body wracked with agony. Criston’s eyes widened in horror as he realized what had happened—their king was grievously injured, possibly dying. All thoughts of pursuing Gwayne and you evaporated as Criston sprinted toward Aegon, screaming orders for a healer.

Gwayne tightened his hold on you as the horse raced away from the carnage, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination. You clung to him weakly, your breath shallow, your strength fading fast. “Stay with me, Y/N,” he urged, his voice trembling with barely contained desperation. “Just hold on a little longer. We’ll find safety. I won’t let you die.”

Your eyes fluttered, and for a brief moment, you leaned your head against his chest, your voice a faint whisper. “You saved me… again…”

Gwayne’s throat tightened, his emotions threatening to spill over. “And I’ll keep saving you, no matter what it costs,” he promised, pressing a fierce kiss to your temple as the wind whipped through your hair. “I’m not losing you. Not today, not ever.”

Behind them, the battle raged on, but for Gwayne, the only thing that mattered was the woman in his arms and the fragile hope that somehow, despite everything, they would both live to see another day.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Too Damn Young: Part One

Summary: You and Spencer meet when you're both 18, you fall in love quickly and everything feels like a dream. Unfortunately, reality reminds you that sometimes even though people don't fall out of love, they don't always stay together.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst

Warnings/Includes: suggestive content (16+), loss of virginity (not described) young love, unhappy ending, divorced parents, emotional strain with mom

Word count: 11.5k

a/n: this is not a summer fling!!! they are in loveee and i promise there will be a part two and it will be happier!!!

main masterlist part two

It’s the summer after your senior year of high school, and you’re caught in that strange, in-between space where the world feels wide open but also incredibly small. San Luis Obispo, with its familiar streets and faces, starts to feel more like a cage than the cozy town you grew up in. Everyone around you seems to be moving on, heading off to college, or traveling to far-flung places, leaving you behind to figure out what’s next. You’re not sure what you want to do with your life yet, so for now, you’re staying put, even though it feels like the walls are closing in a little more each day.

“Feet off the coffee table, Y/N,” your mother sighed as she walked into the living room, her voice carrying the usual exhaustion and concern.

You glanced up from your phone, your feet still comfortably propped up on the coffee table. “You never cared before…” you muttered, not really in the mood for another one of these talks.

She sighed again, more deeply this time, as if she was bracing herself for what she was about to say. “Well, before, you were in school and not at home all day.”

You frowned, feeling the sting of her words. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Why don’t you get a job? Or go make some friends?” she suggested, her tone trying to be encouraging but not quite hitting the mark. “Oh! You could go walk on campus, maybe it will inspire you.”

You rolled your eyes, not bothering to hide your frustration. The last thing you wanted to do was wander around a college campus that wasn’t even yours, pretending to be inspired by something you weren’t sure you even cared about. But the way your mother was looking at you, with hope and a touch of worry, made you bite back the sarcastic response that was on the tip of your tongue.

Instead, you just sighed and looked away, feeling the weight of her expectations pressing down on you. “Maybe,” you mumbled, not committing to anything, but not outright refusing either. You could tell she wanted you to do something, anything, to shake off this sense of being stuck. But the truth was, you weren’t sure where to start, or if you even wanted to.

—

Spencer Reid arrived in town carrying the weight of moving his mother into a mental care facility, something that’s left him feeling more vulnerable than ever. Starting his PhD program in a new place where he doesn’t know anyone is daunting, but there’s a flicker of hope that things might be different this time. He’s no longer the child prodigy being scrutinized by older students; now, at least, he’s finally an adult, and maybe—just maybe—people will see him as one.

He opened the door to his new apartment, the hinges creaking slightly as it swung open to reveal the small, yet functional space that would be his home for the foreseeable future. The apartment was modest, furnished with the bare essentials, but it was clean and had a certain charm, or so he tried to convince himself. This place was provided by the program he was a part of, a stroke of pure luck. 

Spencer set down his suitcase and took a slow, deliberate breath, trying to ground himself in this new reality. As he began to unpack and organize, the familiar rhythm of settling in started to take over, a ritual he had grown accustomed to over the years. But as he moved from room to room, he quickly realized something unsettling—he lacked a lot of the basic things that had always been provided for him in other housing situations, like the dorms and shared accommodations he had known before.

No dish soap, no paper towels, no trash bags—nothing that could help him actually live in this space comfortably. The realization hit him harder than it should have, maybe because of the long day, or maybe because of everything else weighing on his mind.

Spencer glanced at the clock. It was just past midnight. The last thing he wanted to do was venture out into the world right now, but he knew he had to. He couldn’t just sit here, surrounded by empty shelves and a lingering sense of displacement. With a resigned sigh, he decided it was time to go on a mission—a mission to find a store that was open this late.

He grabbed his jacket, mentally preparing himself for the challenge ahead. “How many people could really be out at 12 a.m. on a Tuesday?” he muttered to himself, trying to inject some optimism into his tone, though it came out more as a question than a statement.

As he stepped outside into the cool night air, the streets of San Luis Obispo were quieter than he expected, almost eerily so. The unfamiliarity of the town, combined with the late hour, made him feel like he was stepping into a different world altogether. But there was a certain solace in the solitude, a small comfort in the fact that he wouldn’t have to navigate crowds or make small talk with strangers.

—

You wandered down the aisles of the 24-hour market, the quiet hum of the overhead lights and the distant sound of a radio playing in the background the only noise in the otherwise silent store. It was strange to see it so empty, almost eerie, but there was a certain comfort in not having to navigate through crowds or make polite small talk with anyone. Tonight was all about one thing: satisfying that sudden, undeniable craving for your favorite ice cream.

As you rounded the corner into the freezer section, your mind focused on the treat you were about to indulge in, a sharp pain shot through your foot. "Ow!" you yelped, instinctively jumping back from the source of the pain—a shopping cart that had just run over your toes.

"Oh my god, I am so, so sorry! I didn’t see you there," came a voice from the other side of the cart, the owner of it looking every bit like a kicked puppy. His face was a mix of genuine concern and a hint of panic, as if this small accident was the last thing he needed tonight.

You bit back the initial irritation, quickly realizing this guy was already on the verge of a meltdown. "It’s fine, man, it’s not like there’s a lot of people around to watch out for anyway," you joked, hoping to ease the tension. The last thing you wanted was for this to turn into some big, awkward thing.

He tried to laugh, though it came out shaky and unsure. “Ye—yeah, it’s pretty late.”

You nodded, sensing his awkwardness and suddenly feeling a bit of it yourself. "Yup, well, try not to run anyone else over," you teased lightly, giving him a small smile before stepping past him to continue your mission.

As you walked away, Spencer shook his head, his expression clouding over with self-reproach. He started mumbling to himself, words of self-criticism spilling out in a low voice, but you didn’t catch any of it. Your mind was already back on your goal, and when you finally spotted your favorite ice cream, all thoughts of the encounter slipped away. 

With your prize in hand, you made your way to the checkout and then headed home, unaware of the lingering impact that brief interaction had left on him.

—

Spencer finally felt like he had made his new apartment feel like home. The once-empty shelves were now stocked with cleaning supplies and other basic necessities, and though he wasn’t really one for decorating, the furniture provided by the campus and his own collection of books, awards, and memorabilia gave the space a sense of familiarity. It wasn’t flashy, but it was his.

Yet, after a few days of getting settled, Spencer began to feel something gnawing at him—a sense of being cooped up. He was no stranger to spending long hours alone, buried in his studies or lost in thought, but the endless California sunshine streaming through his windows, and the distant sounds of laughter and life happening outside, started to pull at him. The world outside felt alive in a way his apartment couldn’t match.

Spencer stood by his bookshelf, running a finger along the spines of his well-loved volumes, but the itch to get out and breathe the fresh air was undeniable. Maybe it was time to explore a little, to break up the routine and experience something new. He recalled reading about a bookstore down by the beach, a place that sounded like the perfect combination of quiet and lively—somewhere he could disappear into a sea of books but still feel connected to the world outside.

Grabbing his tote bag, empty and ready to be filled with new reads, Spencer slung it over his shoulder. With one last glance around his apartment, he stepped out, feeling a sense of excitement with a touch of nerves. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for, but he knew he needed to be out there, under that California sun, even if just for a little while. The bookstore by the beach seemed like the perfect place to start.

—

Your mom had really been on your case lately, pushing you to get out of the house and do something with your time. She’d made it clear that your late-night escapades didn’t count, much to your dismay. Each time you’d excitedly recount your quiet midnight walks or the random people you’d encounter, she would just shake her head, unimpressed. She meant during the day—when the sun was shining and the world was alive.

So, in an effort to appease her, you started to drag yourself out of bed each morning and head down to the beach. If you had to be outside, you might as well make the most of it. Lazing around on the sand didn’t seem so bad, especially when you could feel the warmth of the sun on your skin. You convinced yourself that at least you’d get a tan out of this forced outdoor time, right?

After a few days of this new routine, something caught your eye—a "help wanted" sign hanging in the window of a small bookstore that sat right along the sandy sidewalk of the beach. You paused, considering it for a moment. Working in a bookstore couldn’t be all that bad. After all, you loved reading. The idea of spending your days surrounded by books sounded infinitely better than more awkward mother-daughter conversations about your lack of daytime activities.

With that thought, you stepped inside and inquired about the position. The place smelled like old paper and salt air, and the sweet old man behind the counter greeted you with a kind, if tired, smile. He explained that he desperately needed help; his partner had passed recently, and he had been struggling to keep the shop running on his own. They had no children or kin to pass the shop along to, and he had resigned himself to working alone—until you walked in.

You applied on the spot and, to your surprise, heard back immediately. They really needed the help. The next day, you started as their first and only employee, stepping into a quiet world of books and stories just waiting to be discovered.

—

The bell above the door dinged, signaling a customer had entered the bookstore. You bookmarked your place in the novel you’d been reading and set it aside before calling out, “Welcome in.”

At first glance, the customer paid no attention to you, his focus solely on the shelves of books in front of him. But as you looked up from your counter, you froze for a second—it was the guy from the 24-hour market. The one who had run over your toes with his cart. For a brief moment, panic surged through you, the irrational thought crossing your mind that maybe he was stalking you. But that idea quickly faded when you remembered how adorably awkward he had been. And, if you were honest with yourself, even if he was stalking you, you might just be flattered. He was quite attractive—adorable in a geeky way, charming in an awkward way, and just plain handsome.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you slid off your stool behind the counter and walked over to where he was browsing, his nose already buried in the pages of a book. “Can I help you find anything?” you asked, leaning over his shoulder with your hands behind your back, trying to get a glimpse of what he was reading.

Spencer, completely absorbed in the first chapter of the book, didn’t hear you approach. He yelped and dropped the book, spinning around to face you with wide eyes. “Uh—um, no—no thank you, miss,” he stammered, clearly flustered both from the shock of your sudden presence and the quick realization that you were the same person he’d bumped into at the market. And now, seeing you up close in the daylight, he was even more struck by how pretty you were.

You chuckled, reaching down to grab the book he had dropped. “This is a good one,” you said, handing it back to him with a friendly smile. “I read it last week. I’d definitely recommend it.”

Spencer took the book from your hand, his own hands almost shaking. “Th-thank you,” he managed, clearing his throat. “Thank you…”

“Y/N,” you introduced yourself, grinning a little wider. “And you are?”

“Spencer Reid. Uh, Spencer.”

“Well, Spencer Reid,” you teased, “it’s nice to see you again. Are my toes safe this time?”

Spencer blinked, and then recognition lit his eyes as he remembered. His face flushed with embarrassment, but he gave you a small, sheepish smile. “Yes, your toes are perfectly safe this time,” he assured you, still clearly flustered but trying to keep his cool.

“That’s good to hear,” you stifled a laugh, unable to resist teasing him further. “I can’t say the same about yours, though,” you added over your shoulder, turning to walk back toward the counter.

Spencer, intrigued and not quite understanding what you meant, quickly asked, “What? Why not?” He followed after you, just as you had hoped he would.

When you reached the counter, you nodded your head toward him, silently encouraging him to join you. He hesitated, glancing around the quiet, empty store, but when he saw no one else there, he finally gave in and walked over.

“She’s why,” you giggled softly, leaning down to scratch the head of an old tabby cat that had appeared on the counter. She purred loudly, her eyes half-closed in contentment. Spencer’s eyes softened at the sight of the cat.

“Oh, she’s so pretty,” he mused, leaning in next to you to scratch the cat as well.

“Careful,” you began to warn, “she—oh,” you said, surprised as Nala, the cat, nuzzled affectionately into Spencer’s hand. “She usually doesn’t take well to strangers, especially men.”

Spencer blushed a little, his eyes widening slightly in disbelief. “Really?”

You nodded, watching the way Nala practically melted under his touch. “Yeah, I guess you’re special,” you said, smiling at him.

And you weren’t wrong. As Spencer continued to visit the bookstore at least once a week, sometimes just to browse, sometimes to chat, you’d come to realize just how special he really was. Nala certainly knew it first, and as time went on, you couldn’t help but see it too.

—

“So,” you sighed dramatically, flipping through the newspaper in search of the crossword puzzle, “my mom is making me go out to our lake house in Lake Tahoe all by myself this year to check on it. She doesn’t want to go without her new girlfriend, and the girlfriend doesn’t want to go, period.” You rolled your eyes, clearly exasperated, as you vented to Spencer. He nodded along, his eyes fixed on you, absorbing every word like it was the most important thing in the world.

“I have to drive all the way there, almost seven hours, just to make sure the heat pump still works, the pipes didn’t burst during the winter, and all that other nonsense,” you continued, your frustration spilling out in each sentence.

Spencer seemed to mull over your words for a moment, the gears in his mind turning before he casually shrugged and said, “I’ll go with you.”

Your head snapped up, your voice jumping an octave. “What?”

“Yeah,” he repeated, more cautiously this time. “I mean, if you want me to. I could keep you company. I don’t know how to drive, but… you wouldn’t be alone.”

You blinked at him, momentarily thrown by his offer. “Wait—what? You don’t know how to drive? How old are you again?”

“Y/N…” Spencer’s face flushed with embarrassment, his eyes dropping for a second before he met your gaze again. “You know I’m 18, and you know I was a child prodigy. I didn’t have time to learn how to drive.”

The realization made you laugh, an idea immediately sparking in your mind. “I could teach you!” you said, jumping off your stool in excitement.

“No, no, that’s a bad idea,” Spencer protested quickly, shaking his head as if the thought of being behind the wheel terrified him.

“It’s a great idea!” you argued, grinning at him. “You come to Tahoe with me, and I’ll teach you how to drive. It’s perfect!”

Spencer hesitated, clearly unsure about the whole thing, but your enthusiasm was hard to resist. Even he couldn’t deny that the trip might be a little more interesting with you by his side.

“Fine,” Spencer finally relented, though the nervous edge to his voice lingered. “But on my terms.”

You grinned, raising your hands in surrender. “Deal! Oh my god, this is so exciting. Now I’m actually looking forward to it!”

Spencer smiled shyly, his heart doing an odd little flip at your enthusiasm. Over the past few weeks, he had realized that his crush on you had grown significantly, but he couldn’t quite figure out if you felt the same. Sometimes, he thought you might—there were moments when your smiles lingered a little too long or your teasing became just a little too playful. But then there were the times when you casually mentioned people asking you out, and it made him doubt whether you saw him that way at all.

“When are we going?” he asked, trying to push the uncertainty out of his mind.

“Oh, yeah, hah,” you laughed lightly, “We’d leave Saturday morning.”

“Oh!” Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. “As in two days from now? Why are you just now telling me?”

“My mom just told me!” you said, shrugging like it wasn’t that big of a deal.

“Fair enough.” Spencer sighed, already mentally preparing himself for the trip. “I’ll go home and start packing. See you Saturday? Should I meet you here?”

You shook your head and handed him your phone, your fingers brushing against his as he took it. “Hmm, no. Here, put in your number and text me your address. I’ll pick you up.”

Spencer blushed, the warmth creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. “Okay…” he mumbled as he carefully entered his number into your phone, hoping his hands weren’t shaking too noticeably.

You took the phone back, flashing him one last grin before heading back to the counter. Spencer, now flustered and nervous about the weekend ahead, could only hope that maybe—just maybe—this trip would give him the chance to figure out where he stood with you.

—

As you drove along the winding roads leading to the lake house, Spencer's knuckles turned white as he clutched the door handle, his life flashing before his eyes with every sharp turn and sudden stop. Your driving might have been a bit... enthusiastic, but he found it hard to complain when he saw how happy you were, with the wind in your hair and a bright smile on your face. The open road seemed to breathe life back into you, away from home and responsibilities.

Spencer found himself utterly captivated. It wasn’t just the excitement of the trip—it was you. The way you belted out lyrics to your favorite songs without a care in the world, or how you launched into endless stories that would zigzag through a million different tangents before somehow snapping back to the original point. It was chaotic, but in the best way. In those moments, he could easily say this was already shaping up to be the best summer of his life.

At one point, you caught him staring, and with a mischievous smile, you asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Spencer shook himself out of his daze, heat creeping up his neck. “Oh, uh, you’re really pre—crazy. You’re a crazy driver,” he blurted out, sticking his tongue out playfully.

Your laughter echoed in the car, ignoring his slip-up as you teased, “You love it.”

Eventually, the car rolled to a stop in the driveway of your vacation home, a secluded and stunning house nestled right by the water. The lake stretched out in front of it, reflecting the trees and the sky in the stillness of the water. Spencer took in the sight, his unease fading as he realized just how beautiful and peaceful the place was.

“Wait…” Spencer said, a hint of mock worry creeping into his voice. “You didn’t bring me out here to kill me, did you?”

That startled a huge laugh out of you. “Shit, that was precisely my plan, but now you’ve ruined it!”

You both grabbed your bags and a few supplies from the car before making your way into the cozy lake house. The moment you stepped inside, you were hit with the scent of pine and the comforting warmth of the space. You couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement—it had been a while since you'd been here, and it felt like a retreat from everything back home.

“Okay!” you clapped your hands together. “Why don’t you go and take a look around? I’ll handle the checks really quick so we can just enjoy our time here!”

Spencer nodded, feeling a sense of awe as he wandered off to explore. The house was even more beautiful inside, with large windows showcasing the shimmering lake, tall ceilings, and wooden accents that gave it a rustic charm. It felt like the perfect getaway. He couldn’t help but think how lucky he was to be here, to experience something like this with you.

Despite growing up in Nevada, his family never brought him to places like this. His father had left when Spencer was young, and his mother’s declining health meant that traveling was difficult, even impossible at times. As he wandered through the house, looking at the furniture, the wooden beams, and the peaceful surroundings, Spencer felt a twinge of sadness mixed with gratitude. This was new for him—a taste of something he hadn’t even realized he missed out on.

“Hey, Spence, you good?” you asked, coming up behind him, startling him once again.

He jumped slightly, spinning around to face you with a sheepish grin. “Yup! Just… taking in the view.”

“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” you sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder, the gesture so casual yet intimate. The two of you stood in silence for a moment, soaking in the peaceful surroundings through the large windows overlooking the lake.

Spencer felt the warmth of your presence, the soft weight of your head on his shoulder, and for a brief second, the world outside seemed to fade away. He glanced down at you, trying to calm the flutter of his heart, feeling like maybe—just maybe—you were seeing this moment the same way he was.

—

The sky had turned into a blanket of stars, each one twinkling like a small firefly against the deep navy blue. The crisp night air had set in, making the warmth of the blanket you had wrapped around yourself all the more comforting as you sat on the deck, gazing up at the infinite sky.

Spencer was sitting nearby, his eyes occasionally darting from the stars to you, as if he were trying to capture both views. His natural curiosity about the universe seemed to blend with the simple contentment of just being here with you. The soft sound of water lapping against the dock and the quiet chirping of night creatures made everything feel serene.

You noticed him shiver slightly from the cool breeze that had picked up, and without thinking twice, you lifted the corner of the blanket and turned toward him. “Hey, come join me under here. It’s freezing out.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment, his eyes widening as he processed the invitation, but after only a beat, he scooted closer, accepting your offer. He slid under the blanket beside you, his arm brushing against yours as he tried to get comfortable.

“Better?” you teased, a soft smile playing on your lips as you looked at him from the corner of your eye.

He nodded, the warmth from the blanket and your closeness making him feel more at ease. “Much better,” he replied, a shy but pleased smile tugging at his lips.

You chuckled softly and leaned in just a little closer. “You know, Spence, I never pegged you for a stargazer.”

He glanced up at the sky again, his eyes shining with the reflection of the stars above. “I guess I’ve just never really had the opportunity to appreciate it. But this…” He gestured slightly to the sky and then to you, his voice soft. “It’s kind of perfect.”

You felt a warm flush at his words, your smile deepening as you nudged him playfully. “I’ll take the credit for the blanket and the company, but I can’t do much about the stars.”

Spencer chuckled, his laughter quiet and warm. “Well, you’re definitely making it better,” he said, his tone flirtatious but still unsure, like he was testing the waters. He shifted just slightly under the blanket, your shoulders now pressed against each other, the warmth between you a comforting contrast to the cool night air.

You turned your head toward him, catching his gaze in the soft glow of the moonlight. “I think you’re the one making it better, actually,” you teased lightly, the flirty edge in your voice impossible to miss.

Spencer’s breath caught for just a second, and he smiled—a real, genuine, and slightly bashful smile that made your heart skip. Neither of you said anything more for a moment, just sitting there, cozy under the shared blanket, watching the stars as the night wrapped itself around you.

—

The next morning, Spencer woke up feeling something he hadn’t felt in a long time—excitement. He jumped out of bed, an unusual spring in his step as he followed the delicious smell of pancakes drifting through the house. His heart was still fluttering from the night before, but the cozy warmth he felt with you had turned into something more eager and alive.

As he stepped into the kitchen, the sight before him stopped him dead in his tracks. You were standing at the stove, wearing the tiniest pair of shorts Spencer had ever seen, paired with a tight tank top that hugged your curves and rolls in ways that made his pulse race. His mouth went dry—well, until the smell of the pancakes reached him again, and he couldn’t tell if his hunger was for the food or… well, you.

You turned at the sound of his footsteps, flashing him a playful smile. “Good morning, sleepyhead! I know you’ve got a sweet tooth, so don’t even think about telling me you don’t like pancakes,” you teased, pointing a spatula at him in mock accusation.

For a moment, Spencer was utterly starstruck. You looked radiant, the soft morning light streaming in through the windows making you glow. But what really sent him reeling was how the thin material of your tank top clung to you, especially how your breasts pressed against it as you moved. He quickly looked up, his face already heating, but his brain seemed to short-circuit for a second.

“Uh, um, yeah, I love pancakes,” he stammered, trying his best to sound normal. “Thank you.” 

You smiled sweetly, seemingly unaware of the internal chaos you’d stirred in him. “Good, because I made way too many,” you said with a wink, plating up a stack of pancakes and setting it on the counter. “Come on, grab a seat. They’re best when they’re hot.”

Spencer nodded, his movements slightly robotic as he took a seat, forcing himself to focus on the food and not how close you were as you set the plate in front of him. The morning air was warm, but the atmosphere between you two felt even warmer. As you sat down across from him, he couldn’t help but feel like something was shifting between you—something exciting, and possibly dangerous for his already fragile composure.

—

That afternoon, you and Spencer strolled through the charming town center of Lake Tahoe, taking in the relaxed vibe and the quaint shops lining the streets. The day had been filled with lighthearted fun—nothing too serious, just the two of you enjoying each other’s company. You couldn’t help but smile as you pointed out little details of the town, laughing at Spencer’s commentary and feeling a sense of ease that came so naturally with him.

But then, as you browsed one of the boutique shops, a mischievous thought crossed your mind. You turned to Spencer, feigning an innocent realization. “Oh, I totally forgot to pack a swimsuit!”

He blinked, caught off guard by your sudden announcement. “You… you forgot to pack a swimsuit?”

You shrugged casually, glancing toward the back of the shop where the swimwear section was. “Yeah, I mean, I’m gonna need one if we want to hit the water, right?”

Spencer nodded slowly, looking a little confused but following along. You weren’t entirely sure, but you were starting to feel like maybe he saw you as more than just a friend. There had been glances, small moments—like when you caught him staring or how he’d shyly brush against you. And truth be told, you felt a spark with him too, something that made you want to push the boundaries just a little, to see how far they would stretch.

“Do you… uh, want my help choosing one?” Spencer asked, his voice a little shaky as he tried to keep his cool.

You smiled sweetly, barely able to contain your amusement. “Well, yeah, Spence,” you giggled. “I need a second opinion! I can’t buy something that makes me look bad, right?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but before his brain could stop him, the words slipped out. “I don’t think you could look bad in anything.”

The second the sentence left his lips, Spencer’s face turned a shade of red you’d only seen once before when he’d been particularly flustered. His eyes widened in panic, as though he couldn’t believe he’d said that out loud.

You couldn’t help but giggle, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the sunshine outside. “Aw, Spence,” you teased gently, reaching out to touch his arm. “That’s sweet.”

Spencer looked away, clearly embarrassed, but you could see the tiniest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It was adorable how easily he could be thrown off balance around you, and you secretly loved that you had that effect on him. 

“Okay, so I personally think I look good in red…” you mused aloud, casually flipping through the racks of swimsuits that, if Spencer had a weak heart, would definitely send him into cardiac arrest. You picked up a bold red bikini and glanced over at him with a raised brow. “But your favorite color is purple, right?”

“Huh?” Spencer was caught off guard, blinking rapidly as he processed your question. “Yeah, it is.” He was surprised, and admittedly touched, that you remembered something so seemingly small.

“Well then, let’s try this on!” you declared with a bright smile, grabbing a deep purple swimsuit off the rack in one hand and reaching for Spencer’s hand with the other. Before he could protest, you were dragging him toward the fitting rooms.

“Y/N, I can’t come back there with you,” he said, his voice rising in a panic as the realization of what was happening hit him.

You sent him a playful glare over your shoulder, the kind that made his heart race even faster. “You can and you will, unless you think I should walk out here and let the whole store see me?”

“Nope!” Spencer yelped immediately, his face turning an impressive shade of red. He hated that idea. The thought of other people seeing you in something as revealing as a swimsuit made his stomach churn, and the words left his mouth before he could think twice. “I’ll come back…”

The fitting room was more casual than expected—just one room with a curtain separating the changing area from a small sitting spot. Spencer sat down on a cushioned bench, his heart pounding in his chest as you slipped behind the curtain, out of sight.

For a moment, he could only stare at the fabric of the curtain, feeling like he was in some surreal daydream. The small sounds of you moving around behind the curtain sent his imagination spiraling in ways he really didn’t want it to go, but he couldn’t help it.

“How’s it going back there?” Spencer asked awkwardly, fidgeting with his hands as he tried to distract himself from the situation.

You giggled softly from behind the curtain, and he could hear the light rustling of fabric as you adjusted the swimsuit. “Almost ready. Just… a sec.”

Spencer swallowed hard, unsure if he was ready for whatever was coming next. His heart beat faster with every passing second, and he wasn’t sure whether to brace himself for a disaster or… something else entirely.

And then you stepped out from behind the curtain, more confident than Spencer could ever hope to be. The swimsuit you had chosen—a soft purple that hugged your curves and contrasted beautifully with your skin—made Spencer’s heart stop. For a moment, all he could do was stare, frozen in place, his mind short-circuiting at the sight of you standing there in all your stunning glory.

You did a small, playful spin, the movement so effortless and carefree, and Spencer choked on his spit at the sight of your ass as you turned. His face went from pale to a deep, crimson red in less than a second.

“Well…?” you asked, your voice playful, a little teasing as you caught his stunned expression. “What do you think?”

Spencer blinked rapidly, trying to regain his composure, but the words seemed to be stuck in his throat. He opened his mouth to respond but all that came out was a strangled noise that sounded somewhere between awe and panic.

You smiled, clearly amused by his flustered reaction. “Come on, Spence,” you pressed gently, stepping closer to him, “I need to know if it’s a keeper or not.”

He finally managed to stammer something that resembled coherence. “I-I think… it’s perfect.” He gulped. “You look… incredible.”

You grinned, pleased by his approval. “You sure? I mean, I don’t want to walk around looking bad.”

Spencer shook his head quickly. “No, no, not at all. You… you couldn’t look bad if you tried.”

Your smile softened, and for a moment, the teasing air between you two shifted into something warmer, something real. Spencer was still blushing furiously, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, something more than just admiration.

“Thanks, Spence,” you said quietly, the playful edge fading as you felt the weight of his gaze on you. It wasn’t just about the swimsuit anymore—it was about the way he looked at you, like you were the most beautiful thing in the room. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough to make you feel it too.

The air between you shifted, the teasing moment turning into something heavier, more charged. You suddenly felt shy, your confidence wavering as you caught the intensity of Spencer’s gaze, still lingering on you.

“Um… Spence?” you asked, your voice softer now.

“Yeah?” he responded, his voice quiet, his eyes still fixed on you like he was in a haze.

You bit your lip, your heart racing as you glanced at the mirror. “Can you, uh… help me adjust the straps? I can’t reach,” you said, the words tumbling out. It was a lie, and you both knew it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You wanted to feel his hands on you, to see if the tension in the air was something more than just a moment.

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, but without a word, he stood up, his movements slow and deliberate, almost as if he was on autopilot. He walked toward you, his steps careful, the space between you closing with every second.

You turned to face the mirror inside the changing room, stepping just a little closer to the glass, forcing Spencer to enter the small space with you. The two of you were now standing so close, his breath warm against the back of your neck. You could feel the heat radiating off him as his fingers lightly brushed against your skin, adjusting the strap of the swimsuit with a tenderness that made your pulse quicken.

The moment stretched, neither of you speaking, both of you hyper-aware of the other’s presence. His hands lingered on your shoulders, and when you glanced at his reflection in the mirror, you saw the way his eyes had darkened, his gaze flicking between your face and the curve of your neck.

You swallowed, feeling the tension thick between you. “Spence…” you whispered, turning your head slightly to look up at him over your shoulder.

His gaze locked with yours, and for a moment, it felt like time had stopped. The small space, the mirror, the soft rustling of clothes in the distance—it all faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in this intimate moment.

Without thinking, you turned fully, facing him now. Your heart was beating so fast you were sure he could hear it. His hands were still on your shoulders, his fingers trembling slightly. And then, before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in, closing the distance between you and pressing your lips softly against his.

Spencer froze for a split second, his mind trying to catch up with what was happening, but then he melted into the kiss, his hands sliding down to your waist, pulling you closer. It was soft at first, shy, tentative, like both of you were testing the waters. But then, as you deepened the kiss, the shyness started to fade, replaced by something warmer, something real.

You pulled back slowly, not wanting to push things too far in such a public place, but you couldn’t resist the tender moment. Your thumb dragged lightly across Spencer’s bottom lip, his mouth curving into a soft smile under your touch.

“I hope that was okay,” you whispered, suddenly afraid to break the delicate bubble the two of you had created. The world outside seemed distant, as though it didn’t exist beyond this tiny, intimate space.

Spencer let out a soft laugh, his voice still filled with a mix of awe and shyness. “Considering that was my first kiss, it was amazing.”

You blinked, looking at him in shock. “That was your first kiss? Oh, Spencer, I’m so sorry! I didn’t even ask if you—” But before you could finish your frantic apology, Spencer leaned down and kissed you again, his hands resting on your waist, pulling you closer.

The kiss was slower this time, more confident. He wasn’t holding back, and neither were you. When he pulled back, his lips barely an inch from yours, he whispered against your skin, “I could not have asked for a better person.”

Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice making the moment feel even more special. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling like this was a turning point—something that was destined to happen, like you were meant to share this with him.

—

That night, everything felt light and easy between you and Spencer. The kitchen was filled with laughter and warmth as you both cooked dinner together. Every so often, you’d lean over to steal a playful kiss, the steam from the boiling noodles creating a cozy, almost magical atmosphere around you. Spencer’s awkwardness had melted away by then, replaced with a soft confidence that showed in the way he kissed you back, teasing you as he pretended to stir the sauce.

After dinner, you found yourselves sitting on the floor, playing a few rounds of Mancala, each of you laughing as you tried to out-strategize the other. But eventually, the pull of the hot tub outside became too tempting to resist.

You changed into your new swimsuit and waited outside, the night air cool against your skin but the anticipation of the hot water—and of Spencer—keeping you warm. When he finally stepped outside, you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips.

There he was, standing in the doorway in blue banana-print swim trunks, his lanky frame looking more adorable than you could have imagined. You felt a rush of excitement at seeing him like this, so much of him exposed, his vulnerability on full display in the cutest way possible.

“Don’t laugh,” Spencer whined, clearly embarrassed, his cheeks flushing pink.

“Spence, they’re cute!” you reassured him, still grinning as you tried to hold back more laughter. You walked over and tugged lightly at the waistband of his trunks, giving him a playful smile. “I love them.”

He looked at you, his shyness melting away under your warmth, and after a moment, he finally smiled. “You’re just saying that.”

“No, I mean it,” you said, stepping closer, your hands resting on his chest. “They’re very you.”

Spencer rolled his eyes but his smile remained, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear before taking your hand and leading you toward the hot tub. The playful teasing was replaced by a quiet excitement, the warmth of the tub waiting for you both.

You and Spencer settled into the hot tub, the warmth of the water enveloping both of you as you leaned back, the night sky above dotted with stars. The steam curled around your bodies, making everything feel soft and dreamlike. You let out a contented sigh, closing your eyes for a moment.

“This is perfect,” you murmured, glancing over at Spencer, who was sitting stiffly on the opposite side, his hands gripping the edge of the tub.

“It’s… nice,” he replied, though his face was scrunched up in thought, like something was bothering him.

You raised an eyebrow at him, amused by his hesitance. “You okay, Spence?”

He hesitated for a moment, then blurted, “Do you know how many germs are in a hot tub?”

You burst out laughing, completely caught off guard. “What? No! Spencer, don’t ruin this for me!” you teased, splashing a little water in his direction.

“I’m serious!” he insisted, his voice rising slightly as he adjusted his glasses, which were already fogging up from the steam. “Hot tubs are like… breeding grounds for bacteria. The warm water creates the perfect environment for microorganisms to thrive, and if the pH or chlorine levels aren’t properly maintained, it can lead to a whole range of infections—skin, respiratory, you name it.”

You giggled, shaking your head in disbelief. “Only you would bring up bacteria in a hot tub. Come on, relax for once!”

Spencer’s face was a mix of genuine concern and embarrassment as he continued, clearly unable to stop himself now that he’d gotten started. “No, really, the CDC recommends monitoring hot tub water regularly because—"

You cut him off by playfully splashing him again, this time a bit more, laughing as you watched him sputter, pushing his glasses up as they slid down his nose.

“Okay, okay, I get it!” you said between fits of giggles. “But you’re in here now, so unless you want to hop out and start running tests, you’re just going to have to deal with it.”

Spencer looked at you for a moment, as if considering the possibility of actually running tests, but then he laughed softly, shaking his head. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, though there was a fondness in his voice that made you smile.

“Look, the hot tub may be full of germs, but at least I’m not,” you teased, leaning a little closer to him. “So how about you just focus on me instead of all the invisible bacteria?”

He blinked, his eyes darting between yours and the water for a moment before he finally let out a breath and relaxed, a small smile playing on his lips. “You make a good argument,” he admitted.

“See?” you said, inching even closer to him, your shoulders almost touching. “Now, doesn’t this feel better than worrying about germs?”

Spencer chuckled, his arm sliding across the back of the tub as he allowed himself to relax a bit more. “Yeah,” he admitted softly. “Much better.”

The playful conversation in the hot tub eventually faded into a comfortable silence, the only sound being the soft bubbling of the water. You noticed Spencer had gone quiet, and when you glanced over at him, you realized why. His eyes kept darting down to your chest, unable to hide his fascination.

You tried to hold back a giggle but couldn’t. “Spence… my eyes are up here,” you teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

He immediately flushed red, looking away in embarrassment. “I-I’m sorry! It’s just… I didn’t know that…” He trailed off, unsure how to finish his sentence without digging himself deeper into the hole of awkwardness he had created.

“Didn’t know what?” you asked, amused by how flustered he was becoming. “That they could float?”

Spencer hesitated before nodding, clearly mortified. “Well… yeah,” he admitted quietly. “I guess I didn’t think about it before, but, uh, it’s interesting. Scientifically, I mean.”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, causing Spencer’s blush to deepen even further. “Oh, Spence, you’re adorable,” you said, still giggling. “They’re just balls of fat, you know?”

He blinked at you, his curiosity piqued now that you’d made it sound so simple. “I guess that makes sense,” he murmured, still staring despite his best efforts to focus on something else.

A playful, daring thought popped into your head then. You leaned in closer, biting your lip slightly before whispering, “You know… if you want, you can touch them.”

Spencer’s eyes went wide, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. “W-What?” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at you in disbelief, as if he wasn’t sure whether he’d heard you correctly.

You smiled, your expression soft but teasing. “I’m serious,” you said, your voice gentle but laced with curiosity. “It’s okay if you want to. I mean… it’s not like I mind.”

For a moment, Spencer seemed frozen, his mind likely racing through a million thoughts all at once. You could see the internal battle on his face—his logical brain warring with his curiosity and the undeniable attraction between the two of you. Finally, he swallowed hard and nodded, still unsure but willing to trust you.

Slowly, almost cautiously, his hand reached out, fingers trembling slightly as they hovered near your chest. When his hand finally made contact, his touch was soft and hesitant, like he was afraid to hurt you. His wide eyes stayed fixed on you the entire time, clearly amazed by the experience but also checking to make sure you were okay with it.

“Wow,” he breathed out, his voice barely audible, his fingers gently tracing the curve of your breast as if he were studying it in awe. You could see the genuine fascination on his face, his scientific curiosity mixing with something much more intimate.

You smiled softly at him, letting him take his time, feeling the weight of the moment between you two. This wasn’t just a playful interaction anymore—it had shifted into something more vulnerable, more personal. And in that moment, you both felt it.

"Spencer?" you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looked up, his wide eyes meeting yours, his hands still gently fondling your breasts as if he were afraid to break the delicate moment between you. "Yeah?" he responded, his voice just as soft, the world around you both feeling smaller, quieter.

"Kiss me," you breathed out, the words slipping from your lips like a secret you’d been holding in, waiting for just the right moment to share.

For a second, Spencer just stared at you, his mind seemingly struggling to catch up with what you had said. Then, slowly, as if in a trance, he leaned in, his breath warm against your lips. His hands, still resting on your chest, slid down to your waist, pulling you closer as he closed the distance between you.

The kiss was soft, tender at first, like he was still testing the waters, but the heat between you was undeniable. His lips pressed against yours with more confidence as the moment deepened, his touch growing bolder. You could feel the tremble in his hands, the nervousness and excitement coursing through him, mirroring your own feelings.

You leaned into him, your arms sliding around his neck as the kiss deepened. The steam from the hot tub swirled around you both, but the warmth between you was far more intense than the water. When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other.

"Spence…" you whispered, your voice filled with a mixture of affection and awe. You could feel the shift between you two, the unspoken understanding that this moment had changed everything.

He smiled shyly, his hands still resting gently on your skin. "That… was amazing," he whispered back, his voice filled with wonder, as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

You grinned, pressing a soft kiss to his lips again, a silent promise of more to come.

That night, under the soft glow of the moon and the warmth of the water still clinging to your skin, you and Spencer shared something deeper than either of you had anticipated. What started as tender kisses turned into a night of exploration, vulnerability, and intimacy. You took each other’s virginity, not in a rushed or hurried way, but slowly, carefully, cherishing each touch, each whispered word of affection.

It wasn’t just physical; it felt like you were sharing more than just your bodies. You both made quiet promises, unspoken at first, then whispered into the darkness—promises of staying together, of not letting this be a fleeting summer memory. You could feel the weight of it, the significance of this moment between you two, and you knew Spencer felt it too.

By the time the night faded into dawn, you were no longer just friends. You had come to the lake house as two people testing the waters of something deeper, but you were leaving as partners, bound by the connection you had built together over these few days. It felt like the start of something real, something lasting. And in your heart, you knew it was.

—

A year later, everything had fallen into place in ways you couldn’t have imagined. You and Spencer were stronger than ever, navigating your lives together as you both pursued your dreams. Spencer was deep into his PhD program, doing incredible work that often left you in awe of just how brilliant he was. You, on the other hand, had officially taken ownership of the bookstore after Mr. Jannell, the original owner, retired, and though it was a huge responsibility, it felt like you were carving out a life you were proud of. At just 19, both of you were on paths that felt meaningful and fulfilling.

Spencer had taken you to meet his mom, Diana, and you two had bonded almost instantly. Diana adored you, and before long, the two of you were “thick as thieves,” as Spencer liked to put it—sometimes much to his own chagrin. He’d always joke about how he couldn’t keep up with the way you and his mother teamed up against him during conversations, but deep down, you knew how much it meant to him that you got along so well.

When it came time for you to introduce Spencer to your family, it was a bit more complex. Your mom and her girlfriend liked Spencer well enough, and while he was perfectly polite, the truth was, you didn’t care much about their approval. The meeting you were really excited for was the one with your dad. He lived in Oregon, and though you had once planned to move there to be closer to him, meeting Spencer had changed your plans.

The trip to Oregon was everything you had hoped it would be. Your dad and Spencer hit it off immediately, bonding over literature, fine arts, sports statistics, and even chess. You could see the relief on Spencer’s face when he realized that your dad was a kind-hearted, free spirit—someone who truly understood and appreciated you. It meant the world to Spencer to have a father figure he could trust, and your dad made sure to let him know that he was always welcome to reach out, even giving him his personal number.

It was during that trip that both you and Spencer felt the confirmation that you were absolutely perfect for each other. The shared dreams, the easy companionship, the way your lives fit together—it all seemed to point to something greater.

So, when Spencer finished his PhD program at the age of 20, it felt like the most natural next step when he proposed. The way he looked at you, the ring in his hand, and the soft words he spoke made your heart swell. You had come so far together, and now, the future stretched out before you, full of possibilities you were ready to explore as partners for life.

"Oh my god, Spencer, yes!" you screamed, your heart racing with excitement. "Of course I'll marry you!" 

And just like that, everything changed. You and Spencer were married, two best friends who had found each other in your small hometown and realized there was no one else in the world you’d rather spend your life with. It felt surreal at times—how lucky you were to have met and married someone who knew you better than anyone, someone who adored every part of you.

Spencer, for his part, was over the moon. He couldn’t believe that he’d found the perfect woman who not only supported him but loved him in ways he never thought possible. You were his best friend, his confidant, and now, his wife. It was a dream come true, and there wasn’t a day that passed where he didn’t marvel at the life you were building together.

Diana was beyond thrilled for the two of you, offering nothing but love and encouragement. Your father had been equally supportive, loving Spencer like a son from the moment they met. As for your mom and her girlfriend, they had expressed concern about how young you both were, warning you about the challenges of getting married so early in life. But, as always, their warnings fell on deaf ears—you had never really taken their advice to heart, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

You and Spencer knew, deep down, that what you had was real and lasting. You had both seen the future stretched out before you, and it was full of promise—promises you were ready to make good on, together.

—

It wasn’t until two years into your marriage that the cracks started to show, subtle at first but growing more obvious as time passed. Spencer had been on the lookout for new work, eager to challenge himself in ways his current job couldn’t. So when the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI reached out to him, it felt like a sign—an opportunity to use his big, brilliant mind in ways that could really make a difference. You couldn’t have been more proud of him when he told you, beaming as he shared the news. Your heart swelled with pride.

But the excitement quickly turned into a complicated issue. You had worked so hard over the past few years, growing your business until you owned not just one but two popular storefronts. Both were thriving, and while you had employees, your presence was necessary almost daily to keep things running smoothly. There was always something that needed your attention, always a fire to put out. The idea of uprooting everything and moving to Virginia for Spencer’s new role felt impossible—laughable even.

The moment Spencer saw how you reacted, the light in his eyes dimmed. He didn’t argue, didn’t push the idea. Instead, he swallowed his feelings and forced a smile, telling you that it was okay, that he didn’t need to move, that his job at Caltech was enough. He could stay. How could he tell the love of his life that he did want more? That he wanted to move, grow, and do something that felt more important than the work he was doing here?

So, he stayed silent. He resolved to push the opportunity aside and stay in California, continuing his work in the engineering department. But you noticed. Over the next few months, Spencer changed. He wasn’t the same bright-eyed, enthusiastic man who used to come home excited to tell you about his day. Instead, he was coming home fatigued, emotionally drained, going to bed earlier than usual and struggling to get up in the mornings. There was a heaviness about him, a weariness that worried you more with each passing day.

You could see the signs, but you didn’t know what was causing them. Your heart ached with the thought that Spencer might be struggling with something deeper, something like depression. You didn’t know how to help him, and that uncertainty weighed on you both.

“Hey, baby,” you greeted softly as Spencer walked through the door. He dropped his bag and jacket in the hall closet before slumping onto the couch next to you, immediately curling into your side, his head finding its usual spot against your chest.

“Hi,” he mumbled, his voice muffled as he pressed his face into you, seeking comfort.

You instinctively began stroking his hair, knowing it always soothed him. “How was your day?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light, even though you could already sense that something was wrong.

“Boring,” he muttered. “Long.”

You hummed softly, continuing to run your fingers through his hair. “I was thinking,” you began hesitantly, “maybe this weekend we could go visit your mom?”

Spencer’s head lifted slightly, his eyes suddenly alert with concern. “Why? Is she okay?”

You quickly shook your head, reaching for his hands. “Yes, love, she’s fine,” you assured him. “It’s just… I can tell you’ve been feeling down recently, and I thought seeing your mom might help. Maybe it would lift your spirits.”

Spencer huffed a breath through his nose, his gaze shifting to the side as he pulled away slightly. “It won’t.”

Your concern deepened, and you searched his face, wondering what was really going on. “What do you mean?” you asked softly, your voice laced with worry.

Spencer sighed heavily, the weight of whatever he had been holding back finally too much to bear. “I got fired today,” he admitted, his voice flat, like he was trying to keep the emotion out of it.

Your heart dropped. “What? Baby, why?” you asked, your tone frantic, already running through every possible reason in your mind.

“I told my boss about the offer from the FBI,” he explained, his hands fidgeting as he spoke. “They said if they fired me, then I could collect unemployment until I start my new job and I would get a severance package.”

Your heart stopped. The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp. “...Start your new job?” you repeated slowly, barely able to get the words out.

Spencer nodded, his gaze still averted. “I accepted the job in Virginia,” he said, his voice quiet, almost as if he were afraid to say it out loud.

“Without telling me? Or asking me?” Your voice trembled slightly as you tried to keep your emotions in check.

Spencer, exhausted and clearly fed up, scoffed, “I didn’t think I needed your permission.”

His tone carried a sharpness that stung, a sass that only came out when he was truly drained. It wasn’t like him to be dismissive, but this felt different. You took a breath, trying to steady yourself.

“No, you don’t,” you said flatly, your voice colder than you intended. “But I am your wife, and I’m pretty sure that decision is going to impact us both. I would have liked to have a say.”

Spencer let out a frustrated breath, his posture stiffening. “So you could say no again?” he snapped, his exhaustion now seeping into anger.

You stared at him, bewildered. “When did I ever say no?” you asked, your voice rising with disbelief.

“When I brought it up the first time, you laughed!” Spencer shot back, his voice louder now, frustration overtaking the sadness that had been weighing him down. “You didn’t take me seriously.”

Your heart raced, and you could feel the tension building. Fighting like this wasn’t something you were used to, especially with him. You hated this feeling of everything slipping through your fingers. “Baby, I didn’t know you were seriously considering it. You never brought it up again.”

“I didn’t want you to tell me we couldn’t make it work,” he said, his voice cracking with sadness now. The frustration in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a deep hurt that made your chest ache. 

You stared at him, the weight of his words settling in. This wasn’t just a fight about a job. It was about more—about unspoken fears, miscommunication, and the silent distance that had crept in between the two of you. You had both been living in your own worlds, not realizing how far apart you were drifting.

The silence between you was heavy, and for the first time, the possibility that maybe—just maybe—you were heading in different directions hung in the air.

“I didn’t say we couldn’t make it work,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your own sadness mixing with the confusion. “But you made the decision without me… and that’s what hurts.”

Spencer looked at you, his eyes softening, but there was something there—an understanding, maybe—that this was bigger than either of you had anticipated. He hadn’t thought you’d react like this. You hadn’t expected him to push forward without you.

And in that moment, the future you both had built together seemed fragile, hanging in the balance of a choice neither of you had prepared for.

“What are you saying?” Spencer asked carefully, his voice softening, though there was still a thread of hope lingering in his words. “We can make it work? You’ll move with me?”

You hesitated, the weight of his question sinking in. You had both avoided the depth of this conversation for so long, but now it was staring you in the face. “Spencer… I have my stores,” you began, trying to make him understand the complexity of the situation, the commitment you had to your work.

“Can’t you sell them? Or… run them from Virginia?” he suggested, his tone almost casual, as if the solution were that simple.

You blinked, staring at him in disbelief. “It’s not that easy, Spence,” you replied, your voice tight with frustration. “If something goes wrong, I need to be there. I need to be in person to fix it. It’s my business. I can’t just run it from across the country.”

Spencer ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “I just… my work is important too. Don’t you see that? I’m talking about saving lives, helping people in ways that can make a real difference.”

You felt the sting of his words, the implication behind them cutting deeper than you expected. “What are you saying, Spencer?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly, a mixture of disbelief and hurt. “That what I do doesn’t matter?”

Spencer shook his head quickly. “No, that’s not what I meant—”

“But that’s exactly what it sounds like,” you interrupted, your voice louder now, the hurt rising to the surface. “You think because I’m not saving lives, because I’m not doing what you’re doing, that it’s less important? These stores… they mean everything to me. Just because it’s not life or death doesn’t mean it’s not important.”

“I guess I thought I meant everything to you,” Spencer whispered, tears spilling down his cheeks, his voice trembling with heartbreak.

Your own tears began to fall, your chest tightening as you watched the love of your life in such pain. “I thought so too,” you replied, your voice cracking. “But… would you leave everything behind and move across the country for me?” It was a question that hung heavy between you, one that neither of you had ever truly confronted before.

Spencer stared at you, his eyes red and glassy. “What is this?” he asked, his voice shaky. “Are we… are we breaking up?”

Your heart shattered at the thought, and you sobbed softly. “I don’t… I don’t know, Spence. But if you’re moving, I don’t see how we can make this work.” The weight of that reality crushed you both, the finality of it sinking in.

“You won’t even think about coming with me?” Spencer asked, his voice laced with desperation. He wanted to believe there was a chance, a way to bridge the gap.

You shook your head slowly, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “Not right now, not when I’m just getting started. I can’t walk away from it.”

Spencer stood then, his movements sharp, final. “Well, I’m just getting started too,” he said, his voice breaking as he tried to hold back his emotions. “Maybe… maybe we were too young.”

You looked up at him, crying harder now. “You don’t mean that,” you choked out, shaking your head. The idea that he could regret the life you’d built together was too much to bear.

But Spencer looked down at you, his face full of sadness and regret. “I think I do,” he said softly, the words hanging between you like a dark cloud. “What were we thinking? We didn’t know what we were going to do with our lives. We should have waited, or… or talked about the future more.”

His words cut deep, each one a painful reminder of how far apart you had grown. The love was still there, strong and undeniable, but the reality of your different paths, your conflicting dreams, was threatening to tear you apart. And neither of you had any idea how to stop it.

—

At the airport, you walked Spencer as far as security would allow, neither of you ready to let go just yet. The reality of the moment weighed heavily on both of you, and as you pulled him into a tight hug, the tears flowed freely, unbidden.

“Spencer,” you whispered as you pulled back slightly, holding his face in your hands so you could look into his eyes. “I am so proud of you. You’re an amazing, wonderful, brilliant person, and you’re going to do great things. Please, don’t be a stranger.”

Spencer smiled through his tears, his expression soft but filled with pain. “Thank you, Y/N. That means so much coming from you. I know you’re going to do great things too. Keep me updated—I still want to be involved in your life.”

You nodded, your heart breaking as you tried to smile through the sadness. “I love you so much, Spence.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “More than I can handle.”

The two of you stood there, holding each other, neither wanting to let go. It felt like an eternity and no time at all before the final call for his flight came over the loudspeaker. Reluctantly, Spencer pulled away, wiping his eyes as he looked at you one last time.

And then, just like that, he was gone.

You stood there for a moment, watching him disappear through security, the reality of it all hitting you like a wave. Alone, 22 years old, divorced, and still in your hometown, the life you’d imagined for the two of you now felt like a distant dream.

To be continued…

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[mint-yooxgi]

Kinktober Day 16 - Vampire!San + Cockwarming & Blood

Anonymous Said: For kinktober I was thinking if you feel inspired by : San- Vampire, cockwarming (+ any another kink 👀). Thank you for your work 💕!! A/n: I hope you don't mind, I chose blood! I thought it was fitting since vampire and all that hehehe though, it might not be what you initially think. Hope you enjoy! Warnings/Genre/Rating: 18+ MDNI - Smut, Mature, Established Relationship, Yandere, Possession, Monster Features Word Count: 958 Kinktober 2024 Mini Masterlist

The bet was simple. Well, it was supposed to be.

The bet was supposed to be easy… 

In hindsight, the bet was stupid.

The bet was supposed to have you whining above him for more. Instead, he’s the one that seems to be withering beneath you.

“I thought you said you could handle it, My Heart.” You chuckle, turning another page of your book nonchalantly, as if his cock isn’t buried deep within your tight walls.

“I can, My Blood.” He gets out through gritted teeth, his jaw ticking as he attempts to keep a hold on the last few shreds of his remaining sanity. “I’m more worried about you.”

You eyes briefly dart from the page you’re reading and up to his face, a low chuckle falling from your lips. “I’m not the one ready to bust a nut at the slightest of movements.”

As if to emphasize your point, you clench around him. Hard.

A choked moan tumbles from his lips, tossing his head back as he squeezes his eyes shut. His hands, which have been settled on your waist this whole time, begin to shake, pulling you even tighter against him.

His cock twitches deep inside of you.

“It’s not my fault your senses are that much more heightened than mine.” You hum, nuzzling your nose affectionately against his ear.

Lightly, you shift over his lap, getting more comfortable. Your legs are wrapped around his waist, arms settled over his shoulders as you read a book in bed. Your bare chest is pressed flush against his own, head resting tenderly against his.

His hands slip around to your back, fingers tracing over your bare skin.

“Forgive me if having the most beautiful, perfect, tight little pussy wrapped around my cock makes me a bit sensitive.” He nips at your neck playfully. “Even more intense is knowing just who that pussy belongs to.”

“Oh?” Your brow quirks, pausing in your reading in order to pull back and meet his gaze. “Is this your attempt at flattery?”

“That depends.” He grins, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “Is it working?”

You snort out a laugh, hitting him lightly with your closed book. “In your dreams!”

“Every damn night, My Blood.” He coos, his gaze darkening as his eyes hood over.

“You’re insatiable.” You grin, shaking your head affectionately as you toss your book somewhere beside you on the bed.

“Only for you.” He nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, nibbling gently at the skin there.

A soft, pleased sigh escapes you, eyes fluttering shut as you tilt your head to the side. Your arms still rest lightly over his shoulders, revelling in his touch.

San’s chest rumbles with a low, content growl, pressing you further into him. His tongue darts out to flick against your pulse, fangs nipping at your neck before soothing the marks with his lips in the next second.

“Not fair.” You mumble, tightening your hold around his shoulders.

The only response you get is an amused hum as he flicks his gaze upwards to watch your each and every reaction to him.

“You know how much I enjoy the feeling of your fangs.” You pout, cracking your gaze open to playfully frown down at him.

“I have no idea what you're talking about…” He murmurs, biting over the side of your neck so that you can feel the press of his fangs against your skin. He, of course, doesn’t make you bleed. 

At least, not yet.

“Be careful what you wish for, My Heart.” You voice lowly. “Two can play at this game.”

With those words, you clench hard around him once more.

Shamelessly, a moan tumbles from his lips.

“Now, who’s not playing fair?” He rasps out, his chest beginning to rise and fall dramatically as he stares at you with dark eyes.

A giggle is all he receives in response as you roll your hips over his own.

Almost immediately, his hands are gripping your waist once more. His fingers dig into your flesh, lips curled over his fangs as he holds you steady above him.

A toothy grin paints your features, purposely clenching around him as you lean in. Your lips soon begin tracing over his pulse, nipping lightly at the skin of his neck.

His cock twitches deep inside of you.

The corner of your lips quirks upwards, biting marks over his skin. Your teeth press into his flesh, not enough to make him bleed, but enough so that he can feel exactly what you’re doing to him.

“My Blood-“ A soft hiss escapes him, fangs tracing over your pulse. 

You can feel his hot breath hitting your skin with every exhale he makes, only causing you to shiver. The buildup is telling, knowing exactly what he intends to do next.

You’re quicker.

Sinking your teeth into the tender flesh of his neck, you clench hard around him.

The moment he feels you breaking his skin, proceeded by you immediately suckling at the fresh bite mark you’ve just given him, he loses it. A loud groan escapes him, tossing his head back as his hips buck up into your own. His whole body trembles as spurt after spurt of hot come floods your cunt, dripping out of you and onto his balls.

Low, pleased growls escape him, holding you close as he rocks you against him. The way your tongue feels laving at the wound sends a shiver down his spine, your name nothing short of a whimper on his lips.

“You-“ His chest heaves as he attempts to catch his breath. “Cheated.”

An innocent smile stretches across your features, eyes gleaming beneath the light of the room.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

[intoxicated-chan]

I just wanted to say I love your writing 😭 and if I could request like what if Miguel O’Hara was kinda close with some spider kid (around like 16?) and they reminded him of the daughter he lost? (All in a platonic father m daughter way)

Welcome to the Family

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara & Spider!Teen!F!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel didn’t know what you reminded him of, but it takes a few times to finally get it.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Welcome to the Family” by Avenged Sevenfold. Thank you for waiting and for requesting! And thank you for loving my writing. It means a lot.

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1.5k

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, abuse, angst-to-fluff, talk of marriage, violence, injuries…

Small Spoiler Warning for ATSV!!

Alright, let me explain… My name is (Y/n) (L/n), and I was bitten by a radioactive spider. For the past two years, I’ve been the one and only Spider-Woman. I thought everything was going well until I was disowned by my parents, and lost my aunt the same day. From then on, I chose to be distant from society, no matter how much I craved a relationship.

“What are you doing here (F/n).” You crossed your arms, staring directly at the man you once called father.

“I’m still your father.”

“I thought you said, you’re no longer the child I raised?” You told.

“Don’t talk back to me!”

“I’m simply stating the fact is all.”

He shakes his head, “You know, your mother is disappointed. And I’m sure your aunt would be as well.”

Your eyes narrow at him, “Don’t you speak of my aunt.”

“I can talk to her however I want, she is my sister.”

“A sister you abandoned.”

The second he stepped towards you, you jumped back, keeping yourself at a distance, “Why the hell are you here anyways? I know you don’t want to see me.”

“You can still make this right.” He started to explain, “The boy’s family is still willing to have you, even after your idiotic display of teenage emotions. You either take the boy or leave.”

“I told you I won’t. It’s shocking how you’re willing to betray your daughter over a family you don’t even know.”

“I never wanted a daughter! If you want to make things right, if you want us to forgive you, then you will marry this boy!”

“And I told you no! Now get out of here!” You shouted at him, “Leave me alone!”

“I should’ve left you and your mother the day you were born.” And with that, he’s gone, slamming the door to the rooftop on his way out.

But you. You’re a mess.

Your mother didn’t hate you as much as your father did, but you could see it every time she looked at you. The disappointment, the failure, and how much of a disgrace you were to your so-called family.

And that boy was supposed to fix everything, only because he was made of money.

You fell to your knees, holding yourself as tight as possible as you cried to yourself. As much as you were out of there, you were all alone.

No family and you lost your only friend. Your aunt.

Then, you saw trash floating in front of you. You grabbed the cab right out of the air and saw it reflecting colors that were behind you… Behind you?

You slowly stood, turning around to see a rather colorful portal. It was causing some effect as everything around it was floating, then you heard it.

First, it sounded like a whisper then it came right at you. Luckily you dodged on time and the figure flew past you.

A loud thud, followed by a man’s voice getting angry at a woman called Lyla.

You hid behind a metal pole, watching the man stand to his feet, “This is the fourth time Lyla!” He growled.

“I told you, it’s still in the prototype stage.” She retorted.

“And I-“ He sees you, badly hiding behind the pole.

“…Hi?” You wave.

“Lyla, is this?”

“Yep, this universe’s Spider-Man, or Spider-Woman.” She corrected.

“I’m-“ His nose scrunches, “Is this a bad time?”

“What?”

He points to his eyes, “They’re red.”

“Oh! Um, it’s fine. Everything is fine.” You lie, rubbing your eyes and probably making them worse, “It was taken care of.”

He hums, “Then, I’m Miguel O’Hara and I’m Spider-Man.”

“Spider-Man? But I thought I was the only one.” You began to circle him, “But your suit is very… Blue.”

“Thanks. As I was saying, I am Spider-Man but from another universe. I need you to come with me.”

“Why should I go with you?” You eye him up and down.

“I’ve seen what happened here. How your parents are disappointed in you. All I am asking you is to trust me, I offering you a chance for a new chance.” He sticks his hand out, “So?”

That was almost a year ago…

“I can look after Mayday for you.” You tell Peter B. who looks very tired.

“Are you sure?” He tiredly asked.

“Of course, go and get some rest.” Taking Mayday in your arms and pushing him away, “Looks like it’s me and you today!”

She coos at you, reaching toward your face, “How about we pay Uncle Miggy a visit? Wouldn’t that be fun?” She giggles in response, “Let’s go then.” Holding her tightly, not wanting to swing with her arms.

Miguel’s eyes are focused on the screen, hearing his daughter’s laughter made him heartache.

“Miguel!” You shout from below, “Care to come down?! I rather not have her fall!”

He’s fast to close the screen and lowering his desk or… The desk is down on the ground. A minute later, it hits the ground and he turns to face you.

“Yes?” He rubs his eyes.

“Tired as well?”

“No.”

“Lies!” You come closer, taking a seat on the floating thing, “Come on, sit with me.” Setting Mayday on the ground, luckily her web shooter was taken away recently.

Miguel does as you say, “Is something wrong?” He asked.

“I just wanted to talk to you, is that wrong?”

“No, no. It’s just you sounded worried at first. I thought something happened.”

You run your fingers through her hair carefully, “You’re doing it again, shutting everyone out by shoving yourself into work.”

Miguel sighs, “I told you, the fate of the multiverse-“

“Let’s not talk about work right now.” You use your webbing to bring the paper bag towards you, “I know sweets are not your thing so I brought an empanada with me.”

Two cupcakes and an empanada. One for you and Mayday. You hand the empanada to Miguel who gladly takes it.

Then hand a cupcake to Mayday, “Please eat it carefully.” You beg her, knowing either way it’s going to be a mess.

Before you could even take a bite out of yours, she begins climbing you with her sweet still in hand which makes some of the fostering go on you.

“Mayday!” You laugh, and she sets herself on your shoulders, eating her cupcake, “At least she’s happy.” Finally, you take a bite of yours, not noticing Miguel’s stare.

His eyes are wide, his mouth slightly open, and his breathing staggered. His heart once again broke at the sight. He didn’t know what to feel, what to say, or do.

“Miguel? Are you alright?” You gently pull Mayday off your shoulders and back to the ground, “You haven’t taken a bite.”

“Yeah.” He’s trying so hard to keep himself together, “I’m alright.”

Then a few weeks pass… or so you thought.

“This was his fault!”

“He was just trying to help!”

“Help?! Look where it put her!”

Whose voice was whose? Why does everything feel so heavy? Why… Why is it so dark?

“Miguel! Calm down!”

“Enough! Both of you leave the room.” Jessica orders, “She’s waking up.”

“No, I want to be here.” Miguel tried to stay.

“You’ll see her after you calm down, now go.” Jessica watched until she was sure they were gone.

You open your heavy eyes, wincing at the light in the room, “Jessica?”

“Welcome back. Took your time.”,

“What happened?”

“You went out and followed Gwen to Pavitr’s universe, and so did Miles and Hobie. But everything went haywire, and the ground under you collapsed. You fell a good number of floors. Hobie brought you back.” She explained.

“Miles… Where is he?”

“That’s not my place to say. I know Miguel is waiting outside, I’ll leave you two alone.”

“Thanks, Jessica.”

She leaves and Miguel practically runs in, taking the seat next to your bed.

“…Hi.” You say, sitting up.

“How are you feeling?” Miguel asked.

“Tired, confused… Not sure how to feel after but-“

“(Y/n), you’ve been unconscious for a few weeks. You didn’t just fall, you went in after I told you no.”

“You know I’m not going to stand by.”

“But none of this would’ve happened if you just stayed and done what I told you.”

“Why do you care? I thought your focus was on the multiverse?”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

“But why?”

“Because-!” He takes a deep breath, “…I can’t lose another daughter. I never told you what happened but you know that I lost her. I wanted you to stay to the side all these times because every time I look at you, you’re so much like her. Losing you would be the day I snap.”

“I’m… Sorry that I remind you of her. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You whisper.

“I know you didn’t, and I’m just happy that you’re happy.”

You smile, “Can I say something?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copy, translated, or put my work on any other platform without my permission.