#wanderer: she says hi and she hopes you have a good time

[scary-grace]

Bloody Valentine - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

When you get to school on Valentine's Day, your biggest worry is how you're going to give chocolate to your lab partner and crush, Shigaraki Tomura, without him knowing that it was you, and when it all goes wrong, you can't imagine how your day could possibly get worse. But when a plague of zombies erupts within the halls of UA High and the evacuation leaves you behind, you find yourself trapped with Shigaraki, both of you left behind. You've been forgotten. There's no help coming. Forget being each other's valentines - now you're each other's only chance to get out of this alive. (cross-posted to Ao3) dividers by @kodaswrld

Chapter 1

You slink through the aisles at the convenience store, blinking sleep out of your eyes and wishing you’d gone to bed earlier last night. You knew what kind of day today was going to be, because it’s the same kind of day you have every day – busy. Rehearsal in the morning, before school starts, team practice as soon as the final bell rings, and in between, the heaviest class schedule it’s possible to take while still reserving at least a few hours to sleep. You should have gone to bed earlier. A lot earlier.

But you didn’t, because you never do, and now you’re here, buying Valentine’s Day chocolate on five hours of sleep. You know you should have made the chocolates by hand, like you did for your friends. It’s something you’re going to have to explain, if the person you’re planning to give the convenience-store chocolate to figures out it’s from you and asks why you cheaped out on him. You’ll have to think of something to say. In the meantime, you pick out the package with the least-ostentatious wrapping and the fewest fruit flavors and make your way to the cash register.

You aren’t the only person in line who waited until the last minute. The woman in front of you is balancing a tower of boxes of the most expensive chocolate the convenience store offers, and the girl behind you in a middle-school uniform is holding a tiny box with an enormous bow on top of it. The cashier’s a woman, too. She doesn’t question the woman ahead of you in line, but when you step up to pay, she looks you up and down with a sly smile on her face. “Who’s this for?”

Your face burns red. You haven’t admitted this out loud to anybody yet, but you have to start somewhere. “My lab partner.”

She chuckles and checks you out, and you wander off to one side, trying to store your loose change and hide the chocolate in your backpack at the same time. You overhear the conversation the cashier has with the middle-schooler. “Sorry. You don’t have quite enough for that one.”

“But it’s the smallest one!” the girl protests. She’s barely old enough to be in middle-school – not more than thirteen. “I looked at the price –”

“Sales tax,” the cashier says. You wince. “Go on. There are people waiting behind you.”

You hear the girl sniffle, and you still haven’t stored your change. You step back up to the counter and slide the coins across it, back to the cashier. “That’s enough, right?”

The cashier nods. You pick up the small box and hand it back to the girl, ushering her outside into a cold, mostly-dark February morning. “Thanks,” she says to you, but her mouth’s still turned down. “He’s my best friend, but all the girls like him – he’s going to get so much and mine’s so small –”

“Write something to go with it,” you suggest. “If you put a note on it it’ll at least look different from the others.”

“Is that what you’re going to do?”

You’re going to stealth-mode the chocolate into his locker and hope he guesses it’s from you – or at least hope that he doesn’t think it’s from somebody else. But you haven’t put much thought into it, and this girl’s best friend is probably a far cry from your lab partner, who’s capable of exuding an aura so grumpy and malevolent that first-years have been known to leave the building to get away from him. “Yeah,” you say, feeling only a little guilty. “Good luck with yours.”

“You, too,” she says. She heads for the metro stop; you store your chocolate away at long last, wrap your scarf a little more tightly around your neck, and start the walk to school.

UA High isn’t for everybody. It’s academically rigorous, to the point where the kids taking remedial classes there could still run circles around the advanced students from any other school, and it’s got so many class and extracurricular offerings that it could almost pass for a university. It’s prestigious to the max, and it’s also really expensive. Students who go there come from rich families, or else they’re on scholarship, their grades and participation reviewed at the end of every term to see if the scholarship will be renewed.

Nobody ever comes out and says which one they are, but it’s pretty easy to tell. Rich kids have class schedules that wouldn’t be out of place at a normal high school. Scholarship kids have schedules like yours. A schedule which begins bright and early at seven am with rehearsal for the school play. This year, it’s Romeo and Juliet, performed pop-opera style – next to no spoken dialogue, almost every piece of dialogue sung. The drama club doesn’t have enough good singers to make it work, so they pressed the choir into service. That’s where you come in. You’re not a good actor or the best singer, but your voice isn’t objectionable and you don’t make a lot of mistakes. That’s enough to earn you a part in the chorus.

And enough to make you an understudy – and the girl who plays Juliet is out sick, which means you’re stuck holding hands with Amajiki Tamaki as the director tries for the billionth time to coax some life into his performance. “Come on, Amajiki! This is a girl you’re holding hands with. The most beautiful girl in the world.”

Amajiki frowns. “I thought Rosalind was the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“That was last week,” Yamada-sensei says. You try not to laugh. “This week it’s all about Juliet, and unlike Rosalind, Juliet likes you. Get hyped! Okay, let’s take it from the top –”

Yaoyorozu starts playing the introductory notes of the song. Amajiki looks directly down at your joined hands and starts singing to them. “If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims ready stand, to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss –”

He’s on-key, which is a big deal for drama club kids, but just as wooden as ever. Off to one side, you see Yamada-sensei shaking his head. “Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,” you sing. Your performance is probably at least as wooden as Amajiki’s, but you’re not supposed to be here, anyway. “Which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands which pilgrims’ hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.”

“Cut,” Yamada-sensei announces. “You’re killing me, Amajiki. Look at her for a second while you’re singing it. Chemistry is all about eye contact.”

“They don’t have chemistry,” Monoma, who plays Tybalt, announces from off to the side. “He and Kenranzaki have chemistry.”

That chemistry is probably the result of Amajiki being terrified of Kenranzaki, just like every other guy at school, but at least some sparks are flying onstage when they’re together. You’re not even sure how Amajiki ended up in the play when he’s got the worst case of stage fright you’ve ever seen. His hands are really sweaty. “Pretend it’s not me,” you suggest. “Pretend I’m the person you like, if you like anybody.”

“There’s an idea,” Yamada-sensei says. Amajiki’s face turns bright red. “Ooh, there it is! We’ve got something. Let’s move.”

“You have to do it too,” Amajiki says to you. “Pretend I’m someone you like. If you like anybody.”

“Fine,” you say. If Amajiki gets a good run-through, you get to go wash your hands. The piano playing starts, and you give it your best shot.

Your plan was to picture an actor, somebody cute but distant, but instead your lab partner pops into your head. Your face goes instantly flushed, probably even more obviously than Amajiki’s, because if you confessed your feelings to Shigaraki Tomura by singing them, he’d laugh you out of the school. If he were the one standing across from you right now, you’d be cringing in despair, knowing for a fact you’d already blown your chances, trying to enjoy the few seconds of holding his hands you got before he yanked them away. You definitely wouldn’t feel like singing about it.

Still, you get through your first lines, and manage to hold Amajiki’s gaze during his response. Saints and palmers have lips, et cetera – and then it’s your turn. “Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer –”

“O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do,” Amajiki says. His eye contact is a little too direct, a lot too earnest. Now you’re really uncomfortable. “They pray: grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.”

“Okay, that’s good enough for now. We don’t want Romeo to faint,” Yamada-sensei says. “That was a lot better, Amajiki. I could tell you were feeling – something. Go get some water. And you –”

He points at you. You cringe. “Stay put,” Yamada-san instructs. “Count Paris, you’re up. We’ve got some back and forth we need to run.”

Tetsutetsu, the first-year who plays Paris, hops up from his seat and comes to stand on the makeshift stage. All you can do is hope his hands aren’t too sweaty.

You stagger out of the rehearsal space at eight-thirty, desperate for a place to wash your hands, and Nejire, who was waiting for you outside, follows you into the bathroom. “I got a Snapchat,” she sings out, brandishing her phone while you run water over your hands. “You and Amajiki sound so good!”

Your heart sinks. “Somebody filmed it?”

“Just on Snapchat! It’s not a story or anything,” Nejire says. “Amajiki’s so cute when he’s blushing!”

“He looks like he wants to die,” you mumble. “How did he end up in the play, anyway?”

“He failed English last term.” Nejire lowers her voice. Amajiki’s a scholarship student, just like you, and you know what failing a class means. “Yamada-sensei convinced the principal not to kick him out as long as he made it up somehow, and since he can sing, being in the play is the best way.”

If it came down to being kicked out of UA or doing some extracurricular activity you really hated, you’d pick the latter without blinking. Nejire replays the Snapchat again while you dry your hands. “How come you were up there? I thought Kenranzaki was the lead?”

“She is,” you say. “She wasn’t here this morning. It was weird – she never misses rehearsals, and she didn’t even text.”

“People were missing from dance practice, too,” Nejire says, frowning. “Kodai and Hagakure didn’t text, either.”

“Maybe something’s going around,” you say. Whatever it is, you hope you don’t get it. You have too much to do. You dry your hands and straighten up. “Come on. I brought you chocolate and I don’t want to give it to you in the bathroom.”

Nejire has chocolate for you, too. She bought chocolate rather than made it, and because she’s not on scholarship, she can afford the really good stuff. You feel awkward handing over your homemade chocolates, but Nejire exclaims over them anyway. You know she’s sincere, because she can’t fake anything for more than a few seconds. “I bet we’re giving them to all the same people,” she says, beaming. “We still have a few minutes. Let’s go hand them out together!”

Your homemade chocolates look like nothing compared to Nejire’s expensive ones, but you’re not friends with your friends for no reason. They compliment Nejire’s generosity and your hard work, and hand chocolate back to you with enthusiasm. You manage to pass your chocolates out to three of your friends before homeroom – Keiko, Saki, and Hinata, girls you’ve known since your first day. The rest you’ll have to get on the run.

Other than homeroom, most of UA High’s classes are sorted by ability rather than by year, which means you’ve had the chance to make friends with second-years and first-years, too. Kyoka is a first-year, but she stands next to you in first-period chorus, so you’ve talked to her almost every day since the start of the year. She gets a box of chocolates. So does Camie in second period advanced calculus, even though she thinks you’re sort of boring and you think she’s kind of an airhead. You helped each other study for your final exams last term. You owe her.

You don’t sit next to any of your friends in third-period English class, but someone in that class is on the climbing team with you. You aren’t close enough to give him chocolate, but you’re friendly enough to say good morning. Spinner returns your greeting, but he’s looking apprehensively at your gear bag. “Wait, were we top-roping today? I forgot all my shit.”

“Coach will probably change it to bouldering if you ask her,” you say. Spinner’s the best climber on the team by a mile, but he’s not the most motivated, and Coach Usagiyama will do just about anything to keep him interested. “If not, I’ve got a spare harness in here.”

“Thanks.” Spinner breathes a sigh of relief. Or yawns. “If it wasn’t movie day in here I’d be screwed. I need a nap.”

“Same,” you admit. “Do you know which –”

“Ladies and those of you who are not ladies, take your seats!” Yamada-sensei booms as he slams the door of the classroom shut behind him, and you scurry back to your seat. Yamada-sensei skids in for a landing in front of the blackboard and switches to English. “I only have one question for you this fine movie day – rom-com or action?”

You vote action, and so does Spinner, but it’s Valentine’s Day and advanced English is mostly girls, so of course you lose. As the vote’s happening, though, you realize just how many people are missing from class today. Kenranzaki from the drama club, two people from Nejire’s dance team, and at least three from English class. Something must be going around. As the bell rings to signal the end of the class period, a terrible thought occurs to you. So many people are absent. What if Shigaraki’s absent, too?

Spinner would know. They’re friends. You stop by his desk as he’s waking up from his nap. “Hey,” you start, “do you know if Shigaraki’s here today? We’re starting a new experiment in chem lab, and –”

“He’s here. I saw him this morning,” Spinner says. “He’s probably going to be late, though. He’s late to everything.”

That gives you time to drop the chocolate on his desk, if you hurry. The thought makes you nervous. Spinner notices. “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll text him and tell him to hurry up.”

“No, don’t –” you start, but Spinner’s already got his phone out. You’re running out of time. You mumble an insincere thank-you to Spinner and book it to the lab, trying not to think about how Shigaraki will respond to the idea of you – you, through Spinner – bossing him around.

You get to chem lab first, ahead of everyone – all your classmates and Sasaki-sensei, too. You tuck your belongings under the bench you share with Shigaraki, pull the chocolate out of your backpack, and set it down on his side of the bench. Done. Your heart is racing, and he’s not even here yet – and once he does, he won’t even know it’s from you. Your high school experience hasn’t been a dream by any means, but this might just be the worst thing that’s ever happened to you.

It would be different if you had a crush on a nice guy, but Shigaraki Tomura isn’t a nice guy. He’s older than you, courtesy of being held back a year sometime in middle school, and while he has friends, every last one of them except Spinner has a reputation just like his. When you were paired up with him for chem lab at the beginning of the year, most people felt sorry for you, and they said so. But you were determined to make the best of it, not to get off on the wrong foot, and so you were friendly. It took two months for him to start being friendly back. For a given value of friendly.

He makes fun of you for being such an overachiever, such a perfectionist – but never for being here on scholarship. The first time he complimented you, it was vague and almost backhanded, but it had your heart racing for the rest of the period. When you finally swapped phone numbers, it took you three days to work up the courage to text him first. Sometimes Shigaraki leaves you hanging, but if you catch him at the right moment – usually at night, when both of you should be sleeping – you can draw him into a conversation. And he’s different than anybody else you know.

You know you’re a cliché, the stereotype of a good girl with a crush on the dictionary definition of a bad guy. But you don’t think that’s why you like him. You just – like him. And you remember something he said a while ago, when the two of you were complaining about couples hanging out in the hallways and blocking you from getting your shoes back, and he mentioned something about Valentine’s Day being even worse – everybody and their cat gets chocolate, and I just have to look at it. You read between the lines. The idea of bringing him chocolate was in your head way before you admitted you had a crush.

Your classmates trickle into the lab slowly, and once again, you register that there aren’t as many as usual. More than a few benches have an empty seat at one side, but Sasaki-sensei arrives thirty seconds before the bell rings, as usual, and starts taking attendance before the final notes ring out. He has the strictest attendance policy in school, and you watch the door anxiously out of the corner of your eye as you organize your pre-work for today’s lab. Acid-base titration. It should be an easy experiment to run, but not if you’re running it alone.

But you won’t be. A shadow darkens the doorway, then falls across your bench, and Shigaraki Tomura drops down in his seat next to you just as Sasaki-sensei calls his name. He doesn’t hear Sasaki-sensei, though – he has headphones in. You elbow him and he yanks them out, just in time for Sasaki-sensei to repeat himself. “Shigaraki Tomura?”

Shigaraki half-heartedly raises one hand, then lets it drop. Sasaki-sensei addresses the class, all business. “I see multiple absences today. If your partner is missing, pair up with someone whose partner is also missing. As usual, you will not be allowed to begin the experiment until I confirm the completion of your prework, and if you run out of time to complete the lab, you will receive no credit for the day.”

The familiar anxious shooting pains lance through your fingers. You can be as prepared as it’s possible to be, and Sasaki-sensei’s reminder of just how willing he is to fail you always scares you. Next to you, Shigaraki pulls a few crumpled pieces of paper out of his backpack, muttering under his breath. “Half the school’s out sick. He can’t cut us a break?”

You move your papers alongside Shigaraki’s, sorting them to make it easier for Sasaki-sensei to see that you’re both done, and take a risk. “I’m glad you made it.”

“Yeah, I figured. Spinner texted me,” Shigaraki says. You cringe. “This lab’s so scary you can’t do it alone?”

“I could do it alone,” you say, stung. It’s the kind of thing he usually says with a teasing note in his voice, but instead he’s strangely flat. He’s not looking at you. “It’s just weird, with so many people out. Did all your friends make it in today?”

“Everybody but Twice,” Shigaraki says. “He can’t shut up when he’s sick, usually – we all get a newsflash every time his body does something disgusting – but this time he hasn’t said a word.”

Kenranzaki didn’t, either. Neither did the girls who were missing from dance team practice. Shigaraki glances at you. “Is that really all it takes to spook you?”

“I didn’t say I was scared. Just that it’s weird,” you say. He’s in a mood today. Is it really just that it’s Valentine’s Day? “Are you feeling okay?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“Because you seem – different – this morning,” you say, stumbling over the words. You thought the two of you were past this. What did you do? “I just wanted to ask. In case there was something –”

“Something you could do?” Shigaraki finishes your sentence. He scoffs. “Nice try. I know what –”

“I certainly hope you do.” Sasaki-sensei looms over the two of you, scooping your prework off the desk. “Shigaraki, your handwriting continues to be atrocious. And you – how many times do I have to ask you to stop writing in 10-pt font? You’re going to strain my eyes.”

“You need better glasses, then, Sensei,” Shigaraki says, almost sneering. That sounds more like him. You can almost fool yourself into thinking he’s defending you. “Our handwriting doesn’t matter. Are we right or wrong?”

Sasaki-sensei glances over your work again. “If I docked points for illegibility, you’d both be on the verge of failing. But your calculations are sound. You may begin.”

You’d be more relieved if Shigaraki wasn’t acting so weird. The two of you start setting out your equipment. “I just wanted to know,” you start, “because I –”

“Shut up,” Shigaraki snaps. You startle. “What the fuck is this?”

It’s the box of chocolates you bought. He scoops it off the desk and brandishes it at you. “This was you, wasn’t it? What is wrong with you?”

“Who said it was me?” You don’t know how to cover up your shock, so you return fire instead. “Whoever it was –”

“I know it was you,” Shigaraki cuts you off.

“How?”

“Because it’s on my desk in fucking chem lab and you’re the only girl in here who talks to me,” Shigaraki says. He drops the box back on the table and shoves it towards you. “Unless you’re going to pretend I’ve got some kind of secret admirer –”

“Maybe you do!” Your voice starts to scale up, and you clench your jaw. You shove the box back across the table towards him. “It could be anybody who left that there. Why are you mad at me?”

“Because it wasn’t anybody. It was you!” An angry flush is crawling from beneath Shigaraki’s collar. He picks up the box of chocolates and drops it on your notebook. “Take this back or I’m throwing it away.”

“Somebody decided to show they like you and you’re throwing it away?” You’re shocked by the acidic note in your own voice, even as you make up your mind to never admit that you were the one who put it there. “You can be mad at me all you want, but you shouldn’t punish them for what you –”

“That’s enough, Station 11,” Sasaki-sensei snaps, from up near the front of the classroom where he’s correcting Yoarashi’s and Togata’s prework. “Focus on your experiment and stop distracting the others.”

This is the wrong class to try to fight with somebody in. You set the box of chocolates down exactly equidistant from you and Shigaraki and start testing the scale you’re supposed to use to weigh your reactants. Sometimes Sasaki-sensei calibrates them wrong on purpose just to throw people off. Next to you, Shigaraki’s sitting still in his seat, visibly seething. His face is still flushed, and when he opens his mouth, it’s to come after you again. “Fuck off with this ‘somebody else’ bullshit,” he says – quieter than before, but not by much. “I know damn well it wasn’t Toga, so that leaves you. You’re the only –”

He breaks off, curses, but you can fill in the rest of the sentence. You and Toga are the only girls he talks to. “And I guess you think this is funny or something, because –”

“Why would I think this is funny?” you hiss.

“Like I’d know. Like I’d ever know what the fuck is going on in your head! I thought –” Shigaraki breaks off again, this time without the cursing, and the look he turns on you is so disdainful that you can barely keep your composure. “You really can act, huh. That nice-girl thing you’ve been putting on since school started. You almost had me fooled.”

Your temper breaks free. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You expect me to believe you’re stupid now?” Shigaraki laughs, so cold and derisive that your eyes sting. “I’m not falling for that one. I’m done almost falling for –”

“Is it really that hard for you to believe that someone might want to be around you?” As much venom as there is in Shigaraki’s voice, you can match it. He might think you’re a nice girl, but you wouldn’t have survived almost three years as a scholarship student at UA if you weren’t tough enough to hold your own with anybody. “I have to tell you, it’s hard for me to believe right now. If this is how you react to some stranger who cares, anybody who wants to be around you must be out of their mind.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you,” you fire back. “Hate yourself as much as you want. I’m not just going to sit here –”

“No, you aren’t.” Sasaki-sensei looms over you, and your heart sinks so far and fast that you feel nauseous. He looks pissed, as pissed as you’ve ever seen him, his eyes narrowed and his arms crossed over his chest. “I warned the two of you once. Not only did you fail to save your lover’s spat until after class, you were both made aware of my policy on profanity at the beginning of the year, and the first-years across the hall could hear the two of you swearing.”

“Sensei –”

“Manners,” Sasaki-sensei snaps, and you fall silent. “To the principal’s office, both of you. And take your belongings. You won’t be coming back here today.”

He’s kicking you out. He won’t let you finish the lab, and if you completely miss a lab, your chemistry grade will plummet. Shigaraki might not care about his grades, but if your grades drop, you’ll be thrown out of UA with a semester left in your third year. “It wasn’t me,” you protest. “Shigaraki started it!”

“Based on what I heard, you were a willing participant,” Sasaki-sensei says. He throws Shigaraki a dirty look, but the vast majority of his disdain is reserved for you. “I expected better of you, at least. Get out.”

Shigaraki’s already packed up his things. He shoves his chair back and it lets out an awful screech as it skids across the tiles, but you’re frozen in your seat. Your heart is racing, and your eyes are starting to prickle and burn. No matter what you do, it feels like the wrong choice – refuse to leave, blame Shigaraki for starting this again, try to make your case? Sasaki-sensei drums his fingers against his forearm, waiting for you, and when you don’t move, he barks at you. “Now.”

Someone giggles, and the sound snaps you out of your paralysis. You whip around to find two of the first-years in third-year chemistry snickering behind their hands – Kaminari and Ashido, who get in trouble for talking every other class, whose grades are worse than yours, who are here on their parents’ money instead of on scholarship. You’re not going to stand here and let a bunch of rich brats laugh at you. You stand up, jam your things back into your backpack, grab the gym bag with your climbing gear, and storm past Shigaraki out the door.

You held it together in class, but now that you’re out in the middle of an empty hall, you’re losing the fight against your tears. At least you are until you hear Shigaraki’s footsteps in the hallway behind you. This is his fault. There’s no way you’re going to let him know how upset you are. You pick up the pace down the hall, then up the stairs, heading for the administrative offices on the second of the school’s five floors.

Shigaraki catches up to you on the stairs. He says something, but you deliberately shift your gear bag, drowning him out with the clatter that results. Then you pick up your pace again. Shigaraki’s legs are longer than yours. He catches up and repeats what he must have said earlier. “Are you happy now?”

You were right to drown him out. You reach the administrative offices ahead of him, but as you reach for the door, it bursts open outwards. Principal Nezu nearly collides with you, and you stammer an apology. It’s as if you’re not even there. Shigaraki, on the other hand, nets a remark from the principal. “If I find out that you’re involved in this, Shigaraki –”

“Involved in what? I got sent here from chem lab.”

“If I find out you’re involved, I’ll personally ensure that you’re sent to prison,” Principal Nezu snaps, and you can’t hold in a shocked gasp. Principal Nezu’s radio crackles, and he raises it to his mouth. “Yes. I’m on my way. Do nothing until I arrive.”

He motors off down the hall, walking even faster than you were. Shigaraki steps past you into the admin offices, and the door closes in your face. You stand there for a moment, stunned. You don’t know what’s going on, what incident Principal Nezu’s referring to, but you can’t imagine what would make the principal say something like that to Shigaraki. You know Shigaraki was in trouble in middle school. Based on the few things he’s said about what it’s like for him at home, you know it isn’t good. And you know that since he started at UA, Shigaraki’s been sent to see the principal for showing up late, for falling asleep in class, for mouthing off to teachers, for throwing a punch after someone else punched him first – but he hasn’t done anything that the other school troublemakers haven’t done, too. You can’t imagine Principal Nezu threatening to send any of them to prison.

It strikes you as really harsh. Almost mean, since whatever incident is going on started while you and Shigaraki were arguing in chem class. But as awful as what the principal said to Shigaraki was, there might be a silver lining for you. If Principal Nezu hates Shigaraki that much, it won’t be hard to convince him that what happened in chem lab was all Shigaraki’s fault.

You feel awful for even thinking it. You open the door to the admin offices and step inside, addressing the first secretary you see. There are twelve of them – with everything that’s going on at UA, Principal Nezu needs all the help he can get. “Sasaki-sensei sent me here to see the principal.”

“Principal Nezu just left,” Secretary Kurose says shortly. She’s always been nice to you before now. “He’ll see you when he gets back. Wait in his office. Shigaraki’s already there.”

He’s probably waiting for you to come in so he can start the fight back up again. You wonder what he said to Secretary Kurose to put that tense, frustrated look on her face. It can’t just be because of you, can it? “I saw the principal leaving. Is something going on?”

“Wait in his office,” Secretary Kurose says. The phone rings and she picks it up, shooing you away. You walk slowly, dejectedly. Partly because you’re hurt by how she talked to you. And partly so you can hear what she says as she picks up the phone. “Yes, the principal is on-scene. The other faculty have Chisaki restrained.”

Chisaki’s one of the biology teachers – anatomy, specifically, and he’s the youngest one on staff. The weirdest, too. They have him restrained? You step into the principal’s office and shut the door behind you, so lost in thought about whatever’s going on down in the anatomy lab that you almost forget what you’re doing here.

But you can’t forget for long. Shigaraki’s sitting in Principal Nezu’s chair, feet propped up on the principal’s desk. He leans to one side to peer at you, half a smirk on his dry, scarred lips. “Come here often?”

You grit your teeth. “Never.”

“It’s your first time. I bet he’ll be gentle with you.” Shigaraki’s smirk sharpens. He leans further back in the chair. “I had to lower this thing about two feet to be able to sit in it. Do you think Nezu hates everybody who’s taller than him?”

You sit down in one of the chairs you think students are probably supposed to sit in and drop your bags by your feet. Your phone buzzes from inside your backpack, and you extract it to find a text from Nejire. What happened??? I heard something went down in lab

I’m in the principal’s office :( you text back, and that’s when it really hits you.

You’re in the principal’s office because you got kicked out of class, because you were fighting with your lab partner, because you gave him chocolate, because you have a crush on him and it’s Valentine’s Day. You might lose your scholarship. You got rejected by the person you like in the worst way possible. And now you’re stuck in here with him until the principal gets back from dealing with whatever the anatomy teacher did. This might be the worst day of school you’ve ever had.

Nejire texts back – ten texts in a row – and you ignore them. Behind the desk, Shigaraki looks up. “You get service in here? I thought this place was dead.”

“I’m on the school’s WiFi,” you say. “Third-years get the password.”

“I don’t have the password,” Shigaraki says. You struggle not to roll your eyes. “I guess it’s only for teacher’s pets.”

“If not wanting to be in trouble all the time makes me a teacher’s pet, fine. I’m a teacher’s pet,” you say. Shigaraki scoffs, and your desire to burst into tears temporarily converts to anger. Anger makes you mean. “You know, you’re a way better actor than me. You did such a good job pretending not to be exactly what everybody said you are that I actually fell for it.”

You’re expecting him to return fire right away. You’ve left him an opening to call you stupid for believing any better of him, and any second now he’s going to jump on it. But Shigaraki stays silent, and without something to react against, your anger starts to fizzle out. All that’s left is hurt and confusion. “I thought we were friends.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Shigaraki says. “Except my friends are a bunch of assholes just like me, and none of them would pull the kind of stunt you did.”

“It wasn’t me,” you say.

Shigaraki’s jaw clenches. “I know it was you,” he says. “Why are you lying about it?”

“It wasn’t me.” You’re never going to admit it to him. You’re going to put this somewhere so far in the back of your mind that you’ll forget it ever happened, and every time you feel that pull towards Shigaraki, those butterflies, you’re going to remind yourself how you feel right now. “Why won’t you stop? You’ve already gotten me kicked out. Isn’t that enough?”

“Kicked out?” Shigaraki laughs at that. “I get sent here three times a week. They haven’t kicked me out yet.”

“You’re not on scholarship,” you say. Despair settles heavily over you. “I’m in the principal’s office and my chemistry grade is ruined – and they can kick me out for breathing wrong. Whatever you think I did, haven’t I paid for it?”

“They’re not kicking you out.” Shigaraki’s not laughing anymore. He takes his feet down off the desk and sits up in Principal Nezu’s chair. “When he gets back, you’re going to tell him I started it –”

“You did start it.”

“Yeah, and I’m gonna cop to it,” Shigaraki says. You blink. “It’ll be my fault, I’ll get detention again, and your record won’t get messed up. They’re not kicking you out.”

“Why do you care if I get kicked out?” you ask. “Do you need a lab partner that bad?”

Shigaraki’s jaw clenches. “No,” he says. “It’ll just be a pain to have to break a new one in.”

That’s what you’d thought he’d say, or something like it. Maybe this morning you’d have thought he cared, but by now you know a lot better. You slump down in your chair, cross your arms over your chest, and wait for the principal to get back.

Fourth period ends without Principal Nezu coming back, which means you and Shigaraki are now missing lunch. School lunches are expensive. You packed your own, like always, and you dig it out of your backpack and open it. Shigaraki takes his feet down off the desk and sits up. “You brought food?”

“Yep.”

“I want some.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” you say. Shigaraki stares back at you, unrepentant. “I’m not giving you my food.”

“I didn’t say I wanted all of it. I said some of it,” Shigaraki corrects, like an asshole. “Share. Unless you’re done pretending to be nice?”

“Maybe I am, since you’re done pretending not to be a bully –”

“A bully?”

“You’re trying to steal my lunch.” You put it back into your backpack. Maybe he’ll leave you alone about it now. “Most guys give that up by seventh grade.”

“Yeah, well, I was in juvie in seventh grade, so –” Shigaraki breaks off suddenly, then glares at you. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” you say – and then, from somewhere at the edge of your hearing, a sound hits your ears that’s got no business being in a school. “Did you hear that?”

“What? I didn’t –” Shigaraki’s head snaps up. “I heard that.”

So did you. Two screams, from two different people, and a moment later, there’s a third. A chill goes down your spine, and you hold still with an effort, even when the fourth scream rings out. “People don’t scream like that when they’re just screwing around.”

“No,” Shigaraki says. More screams. They’re getting closer. He gets to his feet. “Get out of the way.”

“What?”

Shigaraki doesn’t answer. He kicks Principal Nezu’s chair out of the way, knocks everything on the desk onto the floor, and starts shoving at the desk, to absolutely no effect. It’s so bizarre that it takes another scream to snap you back to awareness. “What are you doing?”

“Blocking the door.” Shigaraki’s voice is strained. “Whatever’s making people scream like that, I don’t want it in here.”

What could it even be? A school shooter, like they have in America? You’d have heard gunshots. Maybe it’s a crazy person with a knife running through the halls, or a rabid animal, or something. Now there are so many people screaming that you can’t distinguish anything about the voices – male or female, young or old, victim or perpetrator. Whatever it is, Shigaraki’s right. You don’t want it here either. You leave your backpack off to one side and join Shigaraki behind the desk, giving it an experimental push. Sure, it’s heavy. You can see why Shigaraki’s having trouble. You square up, plant your feet, and shove.

The desk skids forward, and you keep pushing. Shigaraki’s not doing anything to help, even though it was his idea, and when you turn to look, you find him staring at you. “Are you on steroids or something?”

“No, I’m on the climbing team. We have to work out.” You shove the desk again, thankful for the fact that Coach Usagiyama makes you and the rest of the team cross-train at least twice a week. “Are you going to help? It’ll be faster with two.”

At first Shigaraki just stares at you, but the screams are so close now, close enough that your ears hurt, and blocking the door was his idea. Shigaraki lines up next to you and starts pushing the desk, and together the two of you wedge it against the door. Almost as soon as you’ve pushed it into place, something thuds against it from the other side. You recoil backwards, but Shigaraki throws his weight against the desk, keeping it firmly shut. “Let me in,” Secretary Kurose pleads. “They’re coming!”

Who’s they? It doesn’t matter, not when she needs help. You grab the desk and pull back, only to catch Shigaraki’s arm squarely across your chest, hard enough that you’ll have bruises. “No,” he snaps at you. “Nobody gets in.”

“She needs help!”

“You think she’d help us? No.” The door handle is rattling, and Shigaraki shoves the desk against the door again. “She can run.”

“Please,” Secretary Kurose wails. “They’re –”

Her voice breaks into a high, wavering scream, and the door shivers on its frame as at least three people collide with it. Secretary Kurose’s scream reaches a new pitch, one that makes Shigaraki flinch and makes you jam your fingers in your ears to drown it out. But some part of you knows there’s no drowning this out. Not the scream that hitches and splits. Not the low growls and wet, meaty sounds of flesh being torn away. Not the rattling breaths that go suddenly, horribly silent.

You can’t see anything that’s happening, but some part of you knows exactly what you’re listening to. Those are the sounds of a person being eaten alive, and before you can even think, you’re throwing your weight against the desk just like Shigaraki is, desperate to keep whatever’s out there from getting in.

[judespoets]

THE PROPHECY

summary: Surely moving to a whole other country to get away from your ex would give you a chance to restart, right? But that’s apparently not what was planned for you.

You came to Madrid to start off completely new, new job, new friends and no seeing familiar faces- until you do, but that’s not Jude is it? Surely that’s not the Jude Bellingham you knew oh so well as a kid, or is it him?

What happens when you see your childhood best friend after so many years again? Does he remember you and is the connection as strong as it was back then? What does the prophecy say for you?

chapter one | new

The air in Madrid was warm, the rays of sun shining through the little amount of clouds in the sky making the tiny amount of freckles on your face visible. But the comfort you usually felt during the summer when the sun was warm and the birds were chirping, wasn’t there. Instead you felt a weird sense of emptiness, a feeling of not belonging made its way through your body as you wandered through the streets of your new home.

Home. You said that word so often, every time you came to the house you lived in to be exact but have you ever felt like you were at home? Definitely not in last few months of your relationship and that was what made the situation you were in even weirder.

You were never single and an adult at the same time. All you have ever known was being in a relationship and you thought it would be like that for the rest of your life. But being alone, in a new city, without knowing anyone so suddenly was very new and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t scare you.

But you didn’t have any other choice. You couldn’t go anywhere in London without seeing his face. Everywhere you went, you’ve been there with him. As long as your relationship was, it was almost impossible to find a spot you haven’t been together. So you took the first opportunity you were given, which was accepting the promotion that was partly the reason of your breakup. Away from his face, away from your family, your friends, and away from the pain you felt every day after he said he didn’t want to try and you saw him with another woman. Honestly, everything was falling apart long before telling him you had to try long distance. But sitting there, looking into the eyes you once knew so well, was all the confirmation you needed in that moment.

So running away sounded like a good plan but right now you weren’t so sure if it really was. If you could ever make this place feel like home, if you could ever find something that felt like home.

Now standing in the empty living room which was filled with unopened, brown boxes made you feel exhausted, desperate even. How on earth would you do this? How on earth did you ever believe you even could? You were never this impulsive before and it scared you. It scared you to get to know the person you were, because as long as you’ve known, you never had to. He knew you, but did you?

A sharp ,loud ring pulled you out of your thoughts. Your phone which you were absentmindedly clutching in your hand was ringing.

“Hello?” You answered, you didn’t even look at who was calling you, too wrapped up in your own little bubble.

“Y/N!” A loud, high pitched but familiar voice rang through the created silence of your new living room. “Girl, when I said “do something unexpected” I didn’t mean just run away to a whole other country.” The girl, who was known as Ellie, also as your best friend, stated from the other line of the phone.

“Oh. Well yeah.” You answered, not having planned about telling her about your big move.

“What do you mean “well yeah”? You’re in Spain, Y/N! How long do you plan on staying anyway?” She asked, sounding sure of you using this as a trip, a trip to just get away. But she didn’t know it was so much more than that.

“Uhm, you know. It’s a one-way ticket so.” You said, silently hoping that you didn’t have to speak the truth out loud. Especially not to Ellie.

“A fucking one-way ticket? Y/N, what the hell is going on?” She spoke, softly but also demanding, not sure about how to react to the news.

“Well I told you about the promotion.” You said, still not getting to the actual point.

“Yeah, a promotion as a physiotherapist for a football team- no way! You’re not serious.” She said, interrupting herself, slowly catching up on what you were trying to tell her.

“Yeah. I’m gonna stay here for a while, see how it works out, you know?” You asked, unsure about her reaction.

“So you moved to Spain? Where exactly?” She asked, sadness clinging to her words.

“Madrid.” You answered shortly.

“Okay. What about Toby?” Boom. Toby. The reason you even ran away, the reason this was all even happening.

“Uhm, we- he- uhm, well you know, we broke up.” You stammered. It was the first time you actually said the words out loud, and it hit you harder every time you thought of that.

“You what?!” She almost screamed, completely shocked about the news. “Why? When? And why haven’t you told me, babe?”

“Uhm, two weeks ago.” You said, the emotions slowly creeping up to your eyes.

“Oh babe, what was the reason?” You heard her ask carefully, scared to touch the sentimental topic.

“Uhm, it was a few things. The promotion, he didn’t want to try long-distance and, and he uhm- he cheated.” You breathed out, choking on the last word, the tears prickling in your eyes.

Your position changed too. You were sitting down, down on the cold floor in the center of the empty room. It was almost a beautiful scene if the topic between you two wasn’t so depressing.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry, y/n. I don’t know what to say, i wish i could hug you.” She stated, a weird silence ringing through the line.

“It’s okay.” You sighed, not knowing what to say either.

“Look, if you want to talk about it, you know i’m here, right? I will always be, even if you’re this far away.” Ellie told you reassuringly. She had this talent of making you feel heard and not alone even if she wasn’t in the same room as you.

“I appreciate you so much, El. I gotta go tho, gotta unpack all of my stuff, I’m starting tomorrow.”

“Yeah, okay. Please call me, okay?” She asked, the fear of losing you because of this distance pretty evident in her way of talking.

And just after you assured her you would call the second you could and hanging up the phone, everything came crashing down. Every emotion you were desperately trying to hold in the last two weeks. The pain of being cheated on, the fear of moving away completely alone and the hiraeth to Toby. You were curled up on the floor, the tears no intention of stopping and the sun outside slowly setting, marking the end of the day that you so desperately wanted to end.

A gasp escaped your lips, as you quickly sat up, feeling the outcome of sleeping on the floor in your bones.

Your heart was racing, the sun was out, but one glance at the clock on your phone and you could calm down. It was 6 in the morning so you decided against another session of sleep and for slowly getting ready.

So you got up from your uncomfortable position on the floor and started rummaging through the boxes that were still unpacked, in need of your beloved coffee machine and a mug.

So there you sat, on the floor in an empty apartment in the middle of Madrid, coffee machine plugged into the nearest power outlet you could find, hair still messy from your rather uncomfortable night of sleep and bags under your eyes like you didn’t close them for a week.

This whole thing was wearing you out and you were just hoping it was all worth it.

Two hours later and you were sitting in your car on the way to the location of your new job. You felt weird, looked put together tho, that was all that counted.

It was funny, because you yourself didn’t even know what you were walking into in just a few minutes because the only thing you knew about this new job is that it was for a football club, you didn’t know which one neither how professional it was, you would continue your work as a physiotherapist, that was what you knew. That at least was what your boss told you just a few weeks ago when he said you would be promoted within the company. And when he told you it’s in Spain you immediately agreed, no further questions, so here you are, car parked at the exact location that was given you.

Turning off the car and stepping out, you finally looked up and greeting you was nothing other than the big, silver, shining badge of Real Madrid right at the entrance of the facility.

The disbelief was probably more than evident in your face after you checked the location three times, in fear that you typed it in wrong, but this was it. So as scared as you were, you opened the doors, walking up to the register where a nice woman greeted you and told you your ways.

And just as you were walking down the corridor towards the head coaches office, you bumped into someone, making the stack of papers in your arms fall right down to the floor.

“Y/N?”

——

thank you so much for reading this! please let me know what you think!

[pipe-murder-furina]

Today!!!!!!!!

But bc pulling her is a forgone conclusion, I'm not worried about posting this in advance. Now it's just an agonizing wait until maintenance is done to claim my rightfully owed babygirl

But uh, this is the last (nearly) daily doodle. This blogs kinda gonna be a general genshin blog now, but I'll still draw funny shit that happens in my game or cute one offs if I come up with something. Tomorrows post will be an overview of my ocs

I'll probably change the URL after I've actually done the mentioned soloing. It's been very fun drawing the same wet cat for a month, and thank you everyone who showed any interest in my shenanigans. If this is where your interest ends then I hope you enjoyed the ride and no hard feelings if you leave, I promise

[unintentionalseductress]

I saw this tiktok video a looong time ago with these two women firefighters who have toned bodies and it got me thinking of a scenario with the l&ds boys.

Imagine MC/Reader fighting some wanderes or working out at the Hunters training center and Tara or some civilian noticed just how well tone she is and decide to make a post or video about her. Now MC/Reader is know as the "Hot Hunter"

I would love to see the boys reaction to MC/Reader new found attention and all the horny comments she is getting.

Hot Hunter

Warnings: mild boner descriptions, some grinding and twerking, suggestive dialogue, mostly harmless A/n: Thank you so much for sending this in @deputy-videogamer! It was fun imagining the men's reactions to this scenario. Hope you enjoy this! Just an FYI this was combined with another similar request for Zayne getting hard at the gym for MC. Not really proofread.

You carefully set up your camera and peeked at the screen one last time before picking up a pair of weights off the rack. Although working out was mostly necessary because of your job, it was more bearable now that you had a buddy.

You glance over at Zayne, who's flexing his shoulders, having finished a set on the chin-up bar. He catches your eye, his lips forming a subtle smile before he grabs the bar and lifts himself up again. You allow yourself a brief moment of indulgence, admiring how the fabric scrunches over his broad shoulders before returning to your own workout.

You're live now and already have viewers coming in. Tara insisted that posting hunter workouts was a great way to get audience engagement since many people are focusing on their health nowadays. You demonstrated some basic exercises and how to position the weights, correcting your form as you did so.

Sweat forms on your forehead as you go through the motions, your toned muscles tightening under the skin as you curl and relax. After a few sets, you decide squats are in order. You replace the dumbells and instead, pick up a heavier kettlebell. Turning so that your audience could clearly see your form and how you were adjusting your feet, you bend, feeling your thigh muscles stretch, and your ass tensing as you went down before slowly coming back up. Suddenly there’s a surge in the audience, the numbers rising up and the phone starts to ping continuously as comments flood the live stream. 

Wondering what could have happened, you’re about to get up but are spared as out of nowhere, Zayne suddenly snatches up your phone. His sharp eyes scan the screen, and there’s tension in the set of his mouth as he reads the comments.

“Zayne?” You ask from the floor, still squatting. He makes his way over to you. 

“Is there a reason you’re recording your workout?” Zayne asks, his eyes still moving over the screen. 

“Oh Tara suggested it. We get a lot of questions about our work out routine since we’re hunters. Why?”

“Well…it appears you may have gotten some…raunchy comments.” 

“What? No way!” Your eyes widen. “What are they saying?”

Zayne’s eyes flick uncertainly to your face before he clears his throat. “Well. Most of them seem to have a fruit.”

“A fruit?”

“A peach, to be precise.” A snort of laughter forces its way from your body. 

“Are you serious? There’s no way!” Zayne resignedly shows you the comments and indeed, every other one seemed to be the peach emoji.

“That hunter ass.” You’re amused as you read another one. “Hunter got the buns and the bakery. Look at that cake. Hunter workouts: the key to having a juicy peach.” The comments keep pouring in, and Zayne’s eyes darken as they get progressively thirstier. One in particular, coming from an anonymous commenter, said, “you can squat on my face miss hunter.” With a huff, Zayne ends the livestream. 

“Hey!” You protest as he pockets the device. “It was starting to get good.”

“I see. So lewd compliments about your rear are ‘good’.” Zayne’s eyes have a glint in them, and sulking, you stand, all motivation for your workout disappearing like rain. 

“I don’t see why those comments had to be so inappropriate.” Zayne bites out as he crosses his arms disprovingly. 

“It’s the internet.” You grumble as you start to put the weights back on the rack. “Who’s polite on the internet?” You back up and bump into a sturdy wall of muscle. Before you can register what’s happening, Zayne’s deep voice growls in your ear. 

“Have I not complimented you enough? Why are you looking for validation from strangers?” Caged between the rack and his body, you squirm, your ass inadvertently brushing against the junction of his thighs. Instantly, you feel him hardening, the warm, firmness of his cock pushing up invitingly against your bottom. 

“Well Dr. Zayne, it looks like you were saving your best compliment for last,” you tease and innocently reach down to pick up a lighter weight, your bottom rubbing provocatively against his erection as you bend over and straighten. You stifle a giggle as Zayne spins you around, biting your lip and looking at him with mischievous eyes. Zayne's hands tighten on your hips.

“This ‘cake’ belongs exclusively to me. We’ve worked out enough. I need to raise my sugar levels."

Rafayel didn’t like working out. He made this very obvious as he grumbled during your daily jog. It’s been 10 minutes and his cheeks are red, locks of his hair out of place, and plastered to his forehead with sweat. His breath comes in pants as he tries to keep up with you. 

“For being my bodyguard, you seem to always find new ways to kill me!” You look back over your shoulder and see him starting to slow down. Taking pity on him, you run in place and allow him to catch up. When he does, Rafayel moans and leans against a tree. “Are we done yet? This is torture!” 

You check your phone and try not to laugh at his state. “This is hardly anything Raf. We still have 2 miles to go.”

“2 miles?!” Rafayel crosses his arms and shakes his head no. “I refuse to believe it. You’re just saying that to trick me into running more than what was promised!”

Rolling your eyes but still amused, you playfully poke his ribs. “I’m really not. C’mon it’s a beautiful day out! We’re getting all this fresh air and enjoying all the greenery-”

“Fresh and green is for bunnies! I’m exhausted. Just let me rest ok?” He drinks from his water bottle and you wait patiently for him, stretching as he does so. Two men who had been sprinting briskly around the path when you had started now slow down as they near. They glance appreciatively at you, grinning at Rafayel. 

“You can run this round with us if you want. Let your friend rest.” One of them says sportingly, glancing at Rafayel’s disheveled state. Rafayel bristles at the implication. 

“Hey! I was just catching my breath!”

“Of course you were!” The other man interjects quickly, trying to quell Rafayel’s ire. “You just looked like you could use the break. She looks like she has a lot of energy! Could run this whole trail before either of us make it to the halfway mark.”

Noticing the ominous shadow starting to grow on his face, you laugh, trying to dispel the tension. “Thanks. But I’m taking a break too. This was probably going to be my last mile.”

“Really?” The first man looks surprised. “With the way you were going, I thought you were going for at least 2 more. Are you a marathoner?”

You shake your head politely. “Hunter.”

“Oh! No wonder!” Both men smile dazzlingly. “Obviously hunters have to stay in good shape!”

“We do,” you say lightly, pretending to ignore Rafayel glowering behind you. “It’s a very physically demanding job.”

“Yeah,” Rafayel pipes up suddenly. “And she has very little time to herself. So we have to get going if it’s not too much trouble.”

Understanding the hint, the men nod at Rafayel. “Well enjoy your weekend then! Feel free to join us if you change your mind.” They run off and Rafayel glares at them. 

“Feel free to join us,” he says in a mocking tone as he watches them sprint away. “We’re never coming back to this park again.”

“Oh Rafayel, they were just being friendly.” You start to power walk and Rafayel follows suit. 

“No they weren’t! Didn’t you hear them? Let your friend rest. You look like you have a lot of energy! They were totally hitting on you!” You snort at his tone because he sounded so adorable right now.

“There’s nothing funny about strange men trying to hit on my girl. You’re already thinking of leaving me aren’t you?” Rafayel pouts, and you stop in your tracks before you fall over laughing. Cupping his sulky face between your hands, you quickly peck him on the lips, catching him off guard, because he’s blushing when you move away.

“I’d never leave you Raf. My breathless little fishball.”

“You can’t just insult me to my face and think it’s all ok!”

“Oh, so many people stitched my workout videos!” You’re lazing on Sylus’s lap as he works out the knots in your shoulders from your most recent sparring session. You wince as he squeezes a tender spot. 

“Ouch.”

“Ouch? What happened to no pain no gain?” Sylus teases you. 

“It doesn’t always have to hurt.” You absently open a random stitch notification and watch as a burly, muscled, man talks into the camera while holding a plank. 

“Ok Miss Hunter! You said you can plank for 10 minutes no sweat! I’m gonna beat that record!” The man on the screen balances himself and the timer on the video starts. The sound of his heavy breathing fills the room and Sylus raises an eyebrow. 

“Sweetie, you know you can tell me if you’re watching adult videos right?” You pinch his thigh, satisfied when he twitches.

“No need to get defensive.” His hands wander to your lower back and he continues to massage you. You watch the video intently. The man who had stitched your video was already starting to lose balance; his forearms were quivering from the effort. The timer continues counting, but right at the eight-minute mark the man groans and breaks position. He laughs and winks at the camera. 

“Maybe you should give me a private lesson Miss Hunter!” he says jokingly before the video ends. The comments section is filled with comedic jabs at the man, saying he better last longer than that in other aspects.

“Pathetic,” Sylus murmurs and you startle, unaware that he had been looking at your phone. 

“It’s hard to plank Sylus.” You say discipliningly. “It took me 6 whole months before I could hold for 10 minutes.” 

Sylus doesn’t reply but his hands still as you open another stitch. A man giving off jock vibes fills the screen. “Ok! Miss Hunter said she could complete this whole circuit in 12 minutes! I’ve set up my workspace exactly the same way. If I beat her time, then I’ll ask her out to dinner! Wish me luck guys!” You watch in amusement as the guy starts his workout, puffing and grunting as he does so. 

He was behind 2 phases when the timer rang and he stopped, flopping to the floor. “Whoo! This kicked my ass! Looks like I didn’t beat her time. But hey, maybe Miss Hunter will take pity on me and ask me out herself?”

Your notifications ping suddenly and you check them, surprised to see Sylus’s name popping up several times. “What are you doing?” You open one of your workout videos, then stifle a laugh as you see the replies Sylus has been giving to the commenters.

“You’re too fine to be working out alone.” Sylus: “Oh, don’t worry. She’s got me right there to spot her.”

“Are you a fitness trainer? Because you’ve got me wanting to follow your every move.”Sylus: “She’s not taking clients, but I’m sure a good mirror could help you with that ‘following her every move’ thing.”

“You’re perfect. The body, the confidence, the vibes—everything!”Sylus: “As her boyfriend, I agree!” 

You’re way too beautiful to be single.”Sylus: “Good observation. She’s not.”

Exasperated but also entertained, you straddle Sylus’s lap, nuzzling into him like a cat. “Is the big, bad leader of Onychinus jealous of some strangers on the internet?”

“Not at all kitten. But I think it’s fair to warn them that my gains aren’t always necessarily in the gym.”

Tara holds her phone up as she captures you demonstrating how to effectively use a punching. You perform some basic karate moves, the slaps of your hands and feet kicking the bag filling the gym at the Hunter’s Association. 

“Wow! These comments are so nice!” Tara encourages you as you wipe sweat from your brow. 

“Are they?”

“Yeah! This one lady is saying you’re inspiring her to workout again! Another one says your arms look so sleek and toned! AND!” Tara practically squeals with delight. “This one guy is asking if you do personal training sessions!”

Tara giggles and winks at you. “Maybe you should quit your job and become a fitness instructor instead!” As she continues to film you, more comments flood the inbox, some questions, others compliments. 

“This is the hot hunter I was telling you about! And he’s tagging his friend!” Tara can barely control her enthusiasm. You’re trending everywhere are #hothunter!”

“Who’s calling her a hot hunter?” Out of nowhere, Xavier steps in leaning over Tara’s shoulder to watch the screen. His eyes darken at the comments.

“Xavier!” Tara quickly puts the phone away, looking shocked. “I wasn’t expecting you to turn up.”

“Who’s calling her a hot hunter?” Xavier repeats. His tone is light but you can see the beginnings of a threatening spirit starting to take hold of him. 

“No one! Just…some random person on the internet, it’s nothing serious! I mean, as her boyfriend, you have nothing to worry about!” Tara rambles, clearly sensing the ominous cloud hanging over Xavier’s head. Xavier reaches out to angle the phone and reads the influx of new comments. Tara glances over at you awkwardly, unable to break free from Xavier’s grip. 

After a long moment, Xavier releases the phone and then walks over to the punching bag you’d been demonstrating on. More pings resonate from the phone as more comments come on the screen. “Don’t stop now,” Xavier prompts Tara who looks apprehensive. “Please. Tell me what they’re saying.”

You look at Xavier tentatively and reach out to hold his hand. “Xavier. It’s just people on the internet posting comments. Everyone hopes for engagement nowadays right?”

Xavier doesn’t reply and continues to fix Tara with a stern look. Swallowing, she reads a few comments. “Who’s the guy that just walked in? He’s hot.” She glances nervously at Xavier. 

“Continue.”

“Is the new guy a hunter? Is he the hot hunter’s boyfriend? Is Mr. Hunter going to show us some workout moves too?”

“Hmm.” Xavier considers, then looks directly into the camera. “Greetings everyone. To answer your questions, yes, I’m a hunter too. I’m the hot hunter’s mission partner and boyfriend.” Your cheeks heat up and you push Xavier, trying to get him to cool off.

“I do have a move I’d like to show everyone watching.” Xavier continues to speak, unfazed by your subtle gestures for him to stop. He catches your hand and gently leads you away from the punching bag. He withdraws his hunter’s sword from its sheath, and it gleams under the lights as he does so. 

“Hunters are trained to disarm threats as quickly as possible. Advanced weapons like my sword here are very effective.” Swiftly, Xavier raises his arm, and in one neat swipe, cleaves the punching bag into 2. Stuffing falls like cottony blood from the tear. Xavier brandishes his sword at the phone.

“That’s what happens when I try to protect my girlfriend. Pretty cool huh?” There’s a smile on Xavier’s face that’s charming, yet somehow menacing at the same time. For a brief second, the comments section goes silent. Then it starts bursting with fresh words.

“I want him as a boyfriend! So possessive I love it! Can Mr. Hunter possibly make more videos with the hot hunter?” You read them in your head and sigh.

“Well Xavier, you’ll probably be trending this week as #mrhunter.” You let out a startled gasp as Xavier firmly grips your upper arm and leads you away from the gym. 

“Good. The fewer eyes on you the better.”

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

@brekkersgf @ladyparamount @otomegamesforlife @shddyboo @supernaturalbaesduh @sweets-kozume @theimmortalbuns @venussakura @erebus-et-eigengrau @who-mentioned-rhys-larsen

[mytherapyisreading14]

Magic Tricks

Summary: You are celebrating Henry’s birthday but when Spencer shows some magic tricks, his hands quickly become a distraction to you.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Fluff, Smut (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, kissing, dirty talk, hand kink, praise kink, choking, oral sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex (stay safe y’all)

Word Count: 3,5k

Authors Note: This is the first time I wrote smut, so please let me know if I forgot any warnings/ if there’s anything to improve! Hope you enjoy :)

It's a sunny afternoon, the garden is full of life and everyone came to celebrate Henry's birthday today. Henry is currently sitting on a small wooden bench surrounded by his friends while Spencer shows them his favorite magic tricks. He lets cards slide through his fingers, pulls handkerchiefs out of the air and amazes the children - especially Henry, who sits there with his eyes wide open almost the entire time.

"What do you think, Henry? Ready for something you've never seen before?" Spencer stands in front of the boy and raises his hands, which start to intertwine in a fluid movement. “Yes, definitely!" Henry says enthusiastically.

Spencer quickly brings one of his hands down and pulls a glittering ring out of the air, which immediately appears in his other hand. "Look here, Henry, it's really easy,” Spencer says with a wink. “Wooooow!" the children shout in unison and Henry claps euphorically.

You, sitting next to Penelope on another bench, are also completely fascinated - but you're not just looking at the ring or the tricks. Your gaze keeps wandering to Spencer, to his hands to be precise, which performed the magic with such precision. It's not just the art of magic that captivated you, but also the man himself.

How skillfully his fingers move, how naturally he juggled the small objects - all of this makes your thoughts drift away. The fact that you’ve been in love with him for years now makes it even worse. You imagine how his hands would touch you, how he would hold you when...

You suddenly hear your name and flinch. You didn't even really hear him talking to you, as your thoughts were far away from the magic trick. "Are you even listening to me?" Spencer asks. "Why are you staring at my hands all the time?" You freeze. Suddenly you are so aware of the situation that you almost feel like everyone in the circle is watching you.

Your cheeks turn red. "Uh... I... I just wanted to know how the trick works," you stammer. Penelope, who is sitting right next to you, couldn't help but giggle and whispered to you: "Sure, that must have been the reason..."

"Yes! Exactly," you answer way too quickly. "I... wanted to find out how you did it!" Spencer looks at you for a while, then nods. “Sometimes, it's better if you don't understand the trick," he says with a mysterious smile. "Otherwise the real magic is lost." You try not to blush any more. "Of course, that's true," you murmur and try to relax. Penelope, who is watching the whole situation with a grin, giggles quietly.

Spencer turns back to his magic tricks, but his gaze keeps wandering over to you. You try to look away from his hands now, but unfortunately it's all to no avail. You find yourself looking at his hands and your thoughts wandering in another direction, and Penelope, noticing this, nudges you teasingly with her elbow. "Looks like our genius is enchanting you even more today than usual," she says.

To get out of the situation and keep a clear head, which is never possible around him, you stand up. "I'll get a drink," you mutter. "Good idea," Penelope says with a cheeky grin as you walk towards the house. The other children are busy watching the magic tricks again, but you can't shake the thought of Spencer.

His hands, which unleashed the magic so precisely and elegantly, preoccupied you much more than you would like to admit. You wonder what else he could do with those hands - if it wasn't just about magic tricks.

Spencer, who is busy with the children and their enthusiasm, casts a quick glance at Penelope, who looks at him with an amused smile. He goes over to her while the children continue to marvel and chat. Spencer casts a glance in the direction you went and then wonders if he missed something. “Tell me, Penelope,” Spencer begins, “do you also think she was acting a bit strange just now?”

Penelope laughs. "Oh, come on, Spencer. She was completely distracted." Spencer raises his eyebrow. "By my hands?" he asks, now slightly amused and curious. "Why?" Penelope looks at him and then grins widely. "Well, because she... watched pretty closely how you used them. She was completely fascinated," she explains.

“Fascinated?" Spencer repeats, now even more confused. "And what's so fascinating about that?" Penelope shakes her head and laughs softly. "Come on, you genius, do you really have no idea?" She clicks her tongue and looks at him with an expression that was almost too good-natured to be serious. "Um... no, not really," Spencer replies, looking at her confused. "Explain it to me."

Penelope raises her hands in an innocent gesture. "You're a genius, you should be smart enough to figure that out on your own." She winks at him and then stands up. "I'm going over to the others. Use your clever head properly," she says and then walks towards the house. Spencer ponders, the explanation has triggered something in him, but he still can't quite figure out what exactly Penelope meant.

Then he decides to tell Morgan - who is standing on the other side of the garden - about the previous conversation. He had no idea what had just happened, but something told him that he had to understand it. He walks quickly towards Morgan, who is just getting a beer from a cooler.

“Hey, Morgan," Spencer says, stepping next to him. "You didn't happen to notice what just happened, did you?" Morgan looks at him with a grin when he hears the question. He laughs quietly and takes a sip from the bottle. "Yeah, I noticed. She couldn't take her eyes off you the whole time.”

Spencer suddenly feels a little embarrassed. "What exactly do you mean by that? She was just a little distracted by the tricks. That's all." Morgan raises an eyebrow and then shakes his head, still grinning widely. "So you're really the only one who doesn't notice, huh?" Morgan asks. "Notice what?" Spencer replies. "Well, if you don't understand..." Morgan says, laughing again. "She's in love with you, pretty boy. That's what's going on."

Spencer is so surprised that he just sits there speechless for a moment. "You really think she's in love with me?" Morgan laughs again. "Um, yeah? Have you never noticed how she acts when you're around? How nervous she gets?" Spencer blinks as he thinks about it. He actually hasn't noticed that you sometimes act differently around him.

He thought about the tricks and the magic all the time, but never about the fact that you might be interested in him for another reason - something much more personal. He tried to push the thought away, but something inside him wouldn't let it go. He wanted this - you - for years and he doesn’t want to get his hopes up now. This has to be a misunderstanding, there is no way you are actually interested in him like that.

Deep down, he's wondering if he was really that blind. And what if Morgan was right? What if you actually feel more for him? He looks around again, glancing at you. Spencer puts the thought aside for now - but he knows he can't shake it off so easily. He feels like he can't ignore the whole situation any longer. After talking to Morgan, he realized a lot of things, but he really needed to talk to you to understand them. He has no idea how you would react.

You, on the other hand, try to avoid Spencer for the rest of the evening. You can't be near him without imagining what his hand would feel like around your neck or between your legs. But since Spencer is so popular with the kids and they can't get enough of him and his magic tricks, it's fortunately easier than you think to avoid him. But you still often feel his gaze on you and it makes you nervous.

Later that evening, after most of the guests have already left, you help JJ bring in a few glasses and bottles. You are just about to go back outside when Spencer comes towards you. "Hey," he says, but before you can even reply, Spencer pulls you aside and into the small guest room at the end of the hall. The door closes behind you and the atmosphere in the room is suddenly much more intimate.

“What's wrong?" you ask, still a little confused because he took you aside so suddenly. "You avoided me today," he says. You avoid his gaze so he doesn't see that you are blushing again and start babbling. "Henry and his friends were so impressed by you and your magic and it's his birthday, I didn't want to disturb you. JJ also needed help and I agreed to do that. We were both busy, so it's clear that we don't run into each other that often," you explain hastily.

“That's not true. You deliberately avoided me. And your mind was somewhere else. As if something was distracting you,” he says, taking a step closer to you. “Why don’t you want to tell me what distracted you today?” he asks, looking down at you. Your heart is beating faster and faster and you are a little overwhelmed by the whole situation.

You didn't expect Spencer to confront you with it. "Now you’re quiet. That's uncharacteristic of you. I think I'm making you nervous," he says. "I...uh," you start, but you're unable to form a sensible sentence. "I was just talking to Morgan and… now I know why you were looking at my hands like that." You look at him questioningly. "What?"

"You were looking at my hands," he says, "because you're in love with me." A laugh escapes you. Your reaction leaves Spencer startled, his voice suddenly uncertain. "Why are you laughing?" he asks, and for a moment he looks as if he's not sure what to make of it. "Is it because I'm wrong? I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable -"

But before he’s able to continue, you quickly grab his arm and pull him towards you. Your lips meet his, and for a moment everything else is forgotten. The kiss is gentle and at the same time full of emotions - as if you want to tell each other everything you never put into words. When you pull away from him, you look deep into his eyes and whisper “Morgan is right... I'm in love with you."

Spencer stares at you for a moment, as if to make sure he heard you correctly. But before he can say anything, you quickly add, "But that wasn't the only reason I was staring at your hands," you tell him. "No?" Spencer raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "What was the other reason?" he asks, and you can see in his eyes how eager he is to know. "I want to know."

You can see the sparkle in his eyes, the mixture of relief and curiosity, and for a moment you feel your heart beating a little bit faster. There's something you haven't told him yet, something you need to explain to him. But the look in his eyes melts your nervousness.

"I was looking at your hands," you begin, "because you use them in a way I've never seen before. Your movements are so precise, so... controlled. It's not just magic, Spencer. I want to know what else they can do." Spencer is silent for a moment, and then you see a slight smile appear on his face. “So, you're looking at my hands because you want to know what else they can do?" he asks. "Yes," you answer quietly, "but also because I just can't get enough of you."

“I don’t want you to get enough of me. Ever. Because I am in love with you too. For quite a while now. Since the day you sat down on the jet next to me and challenged me to play chess, to be more exact,” he says and leans forward to kiss you again, his hands grabbing your hips to pull you closer.

A gasp escapes your mouth and Spencer takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss and explore your mouth with his tongue. You can feel the heat rushing through your body and you press yourself even closer against him, reaching for his hand. His eyes follow every move with a curious look. You take his hand and slowly guide it to your neck.

His mind slows for a minute and then he finally understands. “That’s what you��ve been fantasizing about earlier. My hands exploring your body. Me choking you. Haven‘t you?“ he asks and you nod. His eyes darken and you can see the lust sparkling in them.

His hand now wraps around your neck entirely and he squeezes gently. “More,” you whisper. “You tell me if it’s too much, okay?” Spencer says with a concerned look on his face before he tightens the grip on your neck. “Yes Spence, of course,” you breath out before getting distracted by his hand sliding up your inner thigh.

His hand is now under your skirt, running over your panties. “Can I touch you?” Spencer asks and you pull him down by his tie to whisper in his ear. “Of course you can, Spence. I need you to touch me. I’ve been dreaming about this since forever. I’m all yours.” You kiss slowly down his neck, then nibbling on his skin to mark him with a hickey.

That’s all Spencer needs to hear. His hand pulls your panties to the side and he grazes your clit with his finger to tease you. “Spence, please. Touch me,” you whimper and he chuckles. “Someone’s eager. Fantasizing about my hands got you worked up, am I right, sweetheart?” he asks, finally touching your clit with his thumb. Your only respond is a moan and you press down on his finger to show him you need more.

“I barely touched you and you’re already soaked,” he says as he runs his finger through your folds. “Only… only for you, Spence,” you manage to say and slide your hands up to his shirt to open the buttons, taken off guard when he pushes a finger inside you. Your knees are trembling and you have to hold yourself against his body in order to stay up.

“Spence, that’s so - it feels so good… I - I need more, please,” you whine and he pushes another finger inside you. He reaches all the spots you never could and you’re a moaning mess, rocking yourself against his hand. “Good girl,” he praises you and it takes you off guard. You clench around his fingers and he chuckles. “You like that, didn’t you? Me calling you a good girl. So praise kink and hand kink, let’s find out what else you’re into.”

You didn’t expect to hear such words from him. He is always the sweet, gentle and unassuming genius when you are around him, but now, that both of you snapped, finally giving in into your desires, he shows you a completely different side of him, one you’re more then excited to discover. It turns you on immensely.

He squeezes your throat more and pumps his fingers faster, rubbing your clit in circles with his thumb and it doesn’t take long for you to come on his hand. You hold yourself steady against him with trembling knees while he is busy running his hands down your shirt, tugging at your bra and squeezing your breasts. You help him taking off your shirt while he’s guiding you to the bed.

He unclasps you bra skilfully and pulls down your skirt and underwear in one motion, before he pushes you down onto the bed. His gazes wanders over your body and he licks his lips. “You are gorgeous, sweetheart,” he says before he leans forward to kiss down your neck to your breast. He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, grazing it with his teeth while squeezing the other one.

You arch your back and slide your hands up to his shirt again to go back to unbuttoning it, after you got interrupted earlier by Spencer giving you so much pleasure that you were unable to continue your actions. You pull his shirt off and run your fingers over his body.

Spencer slowly kisses down your tummy now, reaching your inner thighs where he sinks his theeth into the sensitive skin, sucking the spot to leave a hickey there before he gently kisses it and leans back to admire his work. It earns him another moan from you and he and grins. “So you like marking me, huh?” you decide to tease him back. “You are in no position to tease, darling,” he says with a mischievous grin before he presses his mouth against your cunt, licking a strip up your folds.

Your hands reach for his hair immediately, pressing him closer to you while he devours you like a man starved. Your whimpers are music to his ears and he can’t get enough of you. “You taste even better than I imagined,” he says before he dives back in. You lift your hips to press more against his mouth but he holds you down with his arm. “No, you have to stay still and take what I give you, do you understand?” he asks and you nod.

He shakes his head in disappointment. “Words, sweetheart,” he simply says and you need to concentrate to form a sentence. “I - oh… yes, I understand,” you manage to breath out and he goes back to eating you out, his grip firm on your hips to keep you still. You never felt this kind of pleasure and when you look down and see him devouring you completely, it becomes too much, you come again moaning his name.

Spencer comes up between your thighs with a satisfied smirk on his lips and you pull him down to kiss him again. You taste yourself on his lips and he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Your hand slides down to his pants and you open them with shaky hands, pulling them down. “Need you now, Spence. Please,” you tell him. “You need me that badly?” You nod. “Yes, I want to feel you inside of me.”

He takes off his boxers and your eyes widen, he is bigger than you expected. You watch as he pumps his cock a few times before he lines himself up at your entrance, sliding through your folds a few times to tease you. Then he pushes in and you moan his name. He claps his hand over your mouth to shut you up. “Shh, as much as I enjoy hearing you moan my name, you have to keep quiet,” he says.

From the lack of movement you are feeling right now you were sure he’s giving you time to adjust. When you feel ready you lift your hips to show him. He starts to slowly thrust in and out of you, hitting your G- spot with every thrust. “You feel so good, so warm and wet just for me,” he says and feels you clenching around him.

It feels even better than you imagined. He’s big, but it’s not uncomfortable and you want more. “Harder. You can - you can fuck me harder now,” you say and he chuckles when he hears how eager you are. He starts thrusts in and out of you faster, his hand wrapping around your throat again.

“Is this what you wanted? Is this what you imagined every time you looked at my hands?” he asks, squeezing until you see stars. “Yes, oh god - Spence. Feels so good,” you moan, already feeling another orgasm building up, gripping the arm around your neck for support.

Spencer, who can feel how close you are increases the speed and thrusts even faster and deeper inside of you. Your body is on fire and when Spencer starts to apply pressure to your already sensitive clit, you feel like you’re going to explode. “Come for me, sweetheart. Come around my cock,” he says and his permission is all you need to let go.

Spencer fucks you through your orgasm, also close to reaching his own now. “Fuck, I need to come inside of you. Can I, Sweetheart?” he asks, his thrusts getting sloppier. “Yes, in- Inside me,” you say and he finishes a few thrusts later. When he pulls out you can feel his cum dripping down your thighs, but you don’t mind. He collapses next to you on the bed and pulls you into his arms, placing a kiss on your head.

“Are you okay?” he asks you while he plays with your hair. “Yes, that’s was amazing,” you say and give him a peck on the lips before you cuddle closer to him, gently stroking his hair. He looks down to you. “Do you have to get the morning after pill? I can get it for you,” he says and you smile. “I’m on the pill, Spence, but thank you anyway,” you say and give him a kiss.

You stay in bed cuddling but after a while you speak up. “I would love to cuddle with you all evening, but I think we need to go back out soon, the others are probably already looking for us,” you say and he nods. “A few more minutes. I don’t want to let you go just yet,” he says and you smile. “I love you,” you say and he smiles back. “I love you too.”

[pathologicalreid]

central nervous system | s.r.

in which you are drugged on what should've been a routine case

margovember

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst; hurt/comfort content warnings: being drugged, threatened sexual assault, season 10, blood, broken glass, in a bar but reader doesn't drink, jareau!reader. word count: 1.7k a/n: oh dear. this week was so eternally long. work was crazy busy i worked overtime and almost ended up in the hospital which all led up to me taking the lsat today. crazy shit, but margovember will prevail. also! i'm hoping to get masterlists updated tomorrow if that's something you've been waiting on.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” an unfamiliar voice intrudes on your private thoughts, looking around the bar that you had been planted in to see if you could catch your UnSub before he had the chance to attack someone else.

He sets a glass in front of you, and you drop some cash on the wooden surface, you shrug, “I’m in town on business.”

The bartender laughs heartily at your response before shaking his head, “Sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just—that’s a line I hear a lot.”

Your face warms at the recognition that the bartender was flirting with you, but this is a man who gets paid to be nice. You take his words at face value and sip at your drink, “Well, I have no reason to lie to you,” you squint at his name tag, “Jackson.”

He wipes down a spill, hooking the rag over the sink, and smiling at you, “Well, it’s nice to meet an honest woman.”

Following him with your eyes as he walks away, that last comment rubs you the wrong way, but Jackson Gleason was the bar manager, and Garcia had already cleared him from the suspect list.

You find yourself wishing Hotch had sent you into the bar with an earbud to communicate with the team, but instead, you were handed a phone, preprogrammed to alert the team if you hit the power button. There was a plainclothes officer somewhere in a corner to keep an eye on you, and the rest of the team was at the precinct or in an unmarked van outside.

Kate had coached you to the best of her abilities, but this wasn’t your first time going undercover. Catching serial rapists was more her speed, but she was pregnant, which immediately took her out of the running. Sipping from the thin straw in your glass, you let your eyes wander around the bar, antique posters and advertisements are littered across the walls, and someone just started playing Radiohead on the jukebox.

Eyeing the phone in your purse, you sigh, stirring the ice in your cup listlessly.

“Can I get you another? Maybe something stronger?” The manager offers, returning from the employees-only door with a new package of straws to restock the bar.

You shake your head, holding your empty glass out of him to take, “The same thing is fine.” Ignoring the fact that you don’t drink—you couldn’t drink on the job; all you’d been given was a coke.

He raises his eyebrows at that, “Suit yourself,” he says, ignoring the fact that you were trying to hand off your already dirtied glass to him and filling a clean cup with ice and coke.

Brushing it off as company policy, you thank him for the drink, placing another few dollars on the bar and smiling at him. Over your shoulder, you glance at the plainclothes officer, engaging in an animated conversation with another patron over whatever sports game is playing on the TV. You suspect he’s a little too good at pretending to be off the clock.

You make a face at the straw in your glass, and the bartender notices, “Sorry, just ran out of plastic.”

Taken aback, you use the paper straw anyway, sipping at your drink while you still can—knowing the straw will inevitably disintegrate.

It doesn’t take long for you to notice something wrong, a dull ache in your chest exacerbated by a slight rise in your body temperature. Your fingertips feel hot like they would after coming inside from the cold. You look down to find the emergency phone in your purse, but your head droops with your eyes, every controlled movement before a struggle.

“Hey,” Gleason says, jutting his chin in your direction, “You don’t look so great.”

A different version of yourself would’ve given him snark in return, but that different version of yourself would’ve been able to feel her extremities. “Woah,” You breathe, trying to swing your legs off of the stool only to find that you’re much higher from the ground than you initially thought.

When you lift your head again, whipping it back so hard you’re afraid it might fly off, he’s standing directly in front of you, “Why don’t I take you out back? You can get some fresh air,” the offer is innocent enough, but it rubs you the wrong way. His hand is on your waist, at the very least you know that’s wrong—you have a boyfriend, and it’s not this guy.

No, your boyfriend is outside of the bar in a van, waiting for your signal because you’re… oh. “No,” you whisper, trying to get your breathing under control. “I’m— Where’s my phone?” You’re digging through your purse as he stands you up and guides you to the back of the bar, closer to a large exit sign.

Sirens are going off in your head, but even they sound separated from your situation. “I can call a cab for you,” he assures you, leading you by your arm and closer to the back door.

“No,” you say again, “I really need my phone…” his grip tightens on your wrist, practically dragging you out of the bar while you use your free hand to find your phone, pushing the power button before it slips out of your hand, clattering to the ground. “That really hurts,” you tell him, now able to give more of your focus to evading the man who was most decidedly not Jackson Gleason.

Pulling your arm back, you manage to break free from him, the momentum from your struggle sends your hand flying into a picture frame, shattering the glass and causing the UnSub to spin on his heel. “Look at what you did,” he seethes, gripping your hair at the back of your head and forcing you to look at the shattered glass.

Your mouth gapes at the sensation of your hair being pulled until there’s a rush of cold air and he pushes you forward, into the waiting arms of someone else, “Woah, hey, I’ve got you,” Spencer says, keeping you off of the floor and, with the help of someone else, carrying your dead weight over to one of the booths.

Spencer clambers into the booth seat first, seating you in front of him so that your back is pressing against his chest. You let out a low groan when he wraps an arm around your waist, keeping your body from flopping onto the sticky hardwood.

“Do you know what you took?” He asks, pressing his face into your hair so that the two of you can keep your voices down.

Vaguely aware of the way his fingers are pressing into the pulse point on your wrist, you shake your head, “I didn’t take anything.”

He hums in response, “You were drugged. I— I’m so sorry we didn’t realize who it was sooner. By the time we realized there was a discrepancy in Jackson Gleason’s file, you had already pushed the alert button,” he tells you, being careful not to move around too much. “Can you lift your head for me? It’ll help your breathing.”

With tremendous effort—and some help from Spencer—you lift your head, letting it rest on him. Now, you can see that the majority of the bar has cleared out, Rossi watches you nervously from the bar, telling Spencer something about paramedics. You huff, “Where’s JJ?”

“She’ll meet us at the hospital, love,” he answers you, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your head.

Trying to adjust yourself, you shake your head indeterminably, “No, it’s… I need my sister. I need my sister.” Somewhere—a past version of yourself, perhaps—you knew that JJ was at the hospital, speaking with one of the survivors.

Spencer speaks with someone that you can’t see, they’re standing in your periphery, a mangled blur of a person. Moments later, something cold is pressed to your face, and the sensation makes you jump, “Ow,” you whine, though it doesn’t hurt.

“Ducky?” Your sister’s voice rings through the phone, and you’re surprised to hear her using your nickname. Although, your status as JJ’s little sister tends to come through when you’re hurt.

You hum into the receiver, “Hi, J,” you greet wearily.

A sigh of relief is her next response, “Hey, Derek said you’re waiting for the paramedics to take you to the hospital, and I’ll be here to greet you when you arrive. Does that sound alright?”

“It’s cold in here,” you mumble, wondering if Derek is the blurry shape remaining in your periphery.

There’s a pause on her end before she speaks up again, “I’m sorry, Ducky.” There it was again. “You’ll be okay though; you just have to wait it out.”

You nod as a jacket is laid out on your lap; Spencer must’ve heard you mention being cold to your sister. Your boyfriend whispers something to you, “Spencer says the paramedics are here and I can’t talk to you anymore.”

JJ laughs slightly on the phone, “I’ll see you when you get here, okay?”

“Yeah, J,” you whisper, letting someone take the phone from you. You frown at Spencer, “I don’t feel quite right.”

Helping you get on the gurney, Spencer holds your hand while an EMT wraps a blood pressure cuff around your arm, “He likely gave you a central nervous system inhibitor.”

You nod slowly, wrinkling your nose when the other paramedic shines a light in your eyes, “I am nervous,” you answer. Trying to listen to the medical personnel as they explain what’s going on, but it all goes in one ear and out the other. One of them crudely wraps a cut on your hand to staunch the bleeding, but you couldn’t even remember when it started to bleed.

Anxiously, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. “Don’t bite down on your lip,” Spencer instructs, “You could bite right through it and not even realize.”

Releasing your lip, your eyes widen at him while he pulls a blanket over your shoulders. “That’s scary,” you whisper.

“I agree,” he says, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “It is scary.”

[jayybugg]

drunken confessions

Theodore Nott x FemRavenclaw!Reader

Summary: Theo drinks a little bit more than he should....

Warnings: Drinking, No use of Y/N, Only mentions being in Ravenclaw once, and very cute???

Word Count: 1.6K

Note: Long time no see, my loves! I took a really long hiatus abruptly because life was kicking my ass badly. I decided that my first fic back should be a Theo fluff because who would I be if I didn't give this boy all of my attention? I hope you guys all enjoy it.

Banners by @cafekitsune

Music boomed through the Slytherin common room as you tried to navigate the sweaty bodies and screaming teens. You were trying to find Theodore, the person who had invited you. It was a celebratory party for Slytherin winning the quidditch game against Hufflepuff. You were in the Ravenclaw house but are good friends with many people in Slytherin.

"Oy," Draco pulled you to the side, "Looking for Theo?"

"Yeah, you've seen him?" you asked, gripping his arm so no one could separate you both. Draco nodded, pulling you to a separate room where Pansy, Daphne, Blaise, Enzo, Mattheo, and Theo sat.

"Finally, you're here." Daphne pulled you in for a hug, whispering in your ear, "Drunk pants over there have been asking about you for the past hour."

You glanced over at Theo, who was very drunk. "He never drinks this much." You whispered back to Daphne. She shrugged. "He caught the stitch. Winner of the game tonight."

You nodded, walking over to Theo and sitting next to him. He immediately grinned and wrapped his arms around your waist. "I've been waiting for you all night," Theo said, speaking slowly so his words didn't get slurred.

"I'm sorry. Why'd you drink so much without me?" You asked, tapping softly on his wrist. "I didn't mean to." Theo said, "Won the game, so people had given me a bunch of drinks."

You nodded, allowing Theo to go back to being the life of the party. Enzo sat down next to you, to keep you company as the party continued.

"So, what's your excuse for not being at the game tonight?" Enzo asked.

"That project for Transfiguration. My partner is an idiot who waited last minute to do his part, so I had to help him. I feel bad for missing it." You said, taking a sip of your water.

"Theo was upset that you weren't there. Probably what motivated him to win the game. That boy is obsessed with you," Enzo said, nudging you. You cleared your throat, feeling a sudden sense of nervousness. "We're just friends, Enzo."

"For now." Enzo wiggled his eyebrows. You laughed at him, rolling your eyes.

Did you like Theo? Yeah, but you didn't think he would like you back. He had a lot of girls on him and he could choose any of them. You were so wrapped in your mind and your conversation that you didn't notice that Theo had wandered off until you heard your name being called.

"Take Theo back to his dorm, please!" Blaise pleaded as he and Mattheo held a nearly blacked-out Theo up. You hopped up, grabbing Theo from them.

"Oh, hey, pretty girl." Theo drunkenly grinned at you. You smiled back. "You should've stopped drinking, Teddy."

"Really should've." Mattheo agreed. "You know where his dorm is. Don't worry about cleaning up down here, we got it."

You nodded, saying your goodbyes to everyone before walking upstairs to Theo's room.

"Pretty girl." Theo dragged out the pet name. "Your hair is so soft."

"Thanks, Teddy." You opened the door to his room, switched on the lights, and put him on the bed.

"Come on, let's get you in pajamas." You tapped his nose lightly, making him smile at you.

"You're so pretty, pretty girl. That's why I call you 'pretty girl' because you're so fucking pretty. Sometimes I think you're otherworldly because of it," Theo gushed, falling back on his bed. You felt your heartbeat pick up as the compliments flowed from Theo's mouth.

"Thank you, Theo. Here, put this shirt on." You handed the shirt to Theo, who shook his head no. "I like to be shirtless."

Theo pulled his shirt over his head and threw it in the hamper. You tried your best not to stare at his chest before handing him a pair of pants.

"You're taking good care of me, pretty girl. I wish you could always take care of me. Merlin, I love you so much." Theo spoke again. You felt your eyes widen as you looked at him. "What?" You said softly.

"I love you like I'm so in love with you. I just want to be with you all the time." Theo continued. You cleared your throat, pushing him under the covers. Theo was clearly saying anything to you because he was drunk. If Pansy or Daphne were here, he would probably say the same thing. You forced yourself to repeat that to yourself repeatedly so you could believe it.

"Get some sleep, Theo, goodnight." You switched off his light as you swung his door open. "Goodnight, my pretty girl. I love you." Theo said.

You quickly shut the door, taking a deep breath to calm yourself. You didn't know how to interpret what had just happened. Theo admitted to being in love with you. Or did he? He was drunk, so he probably wasn't serious. Yeah, he was drunk. You took a deep breath before making your way back downstairs.

Mattheo saw you hurry down the stairs and raised his eyebrow at you, "You good? Is Theo okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine. I'm just gonna go back to my dorm," You said. Mattheo eyed you, "What happened?"

"What? Why would anything happen?" You asked, diverting your eyes anywhere but to Mattheo's.

"..."

You sighed, glancing down at your feet, "Theo said he was in love with me."

The room froze as everyone turned their heads to look at you. Suddenly, you felt tiny. "What? Why are you guys staring at me like that?" You asked.

"Nothing! It's just...." Daphne glanced at everyone, "We didn't expect Theo to confess that when he was drunk."

"Yeah, I had galleons on an angry confession followed by an angry, passionate kiss," Draco said, causing Pansy to hit him in the arm.

You blinked. Confess? Confess as in.... he's been holding this in for a long time?

"Wait, so he's telling the truth, and you all knew it?" You asked. Everyone made noises in agreement.

"I mean, everyone can see how head over heels he is for you. You were the only one denying it." Blaise said. Your face felt hot, and you shook your head, "I'm going to my dorm."

Everyone laughed, bidding you goodbye.

Theo woke up the next day with a terrible headache.

"Ahh, there's our champion." Blaise's teasing voice caused Theo to groan.

"Why would I ever drink that much?" Theo asked, mainly to himself. Enzo laughed, setting a cup of water and some medicine on Theo's bedside. "I don't know, but it was quite entertaining to see you get taken care of by your pretty girl." Enzo's voice was teasing and light.

Theo's face immediately heated at the idea of acting like a fool in front of you. "Did I do something stupid in front of her?"

Blaise and Enzo shared a look before shrugging. Theo looked at both of them. "What? What did I do? Oh, Merlin, tell me I didn't embarrass myself."

"I wouldn't say you embarrassed yourself," Blaise said.

"But sober Theo definitely wouldn't have confessed to her that he's in love with her," Enzo said.

It took Theo a moment to realize what Enzo had said before his face turned completely red in shame and embarrassment.

"I told her I was in love with her?" Theo groaned loudly. That was not how he pictured confessing to you. Well, he never pictured confessing his feelings to you because he was scared and had no intentions of doing it.

"It's a good thing, don't you think? I mean, she finally knows." Blaise said, "Although she might need some convincing because she thinks you only said it because you were drunk and probably didn't mean it."

Theo hopped out of his bed, finding the nearest t-shirt before slipping on his shoes. He had already confessed how he felt and if it's already out there, there's no point in hiding it.

Theo spirited to your dorm, not muttering a good morning to anyone as he pushed past them. Finally, he got to your dorm and banged on it until he heard your feet shuffling.

"Teddy?" You asked groggily before focusing your eyes on the out-of-breath and frizzled Theo in front of you, "What the hell happened to you?"

"I meant it."

"What?"

There was silence between you two. He knew you knew what he was talking about, so it didn't take long for realization to take over your face.

"I meant it." Theo repeated himself, "Every word I said last night while I was sloppy drunk was true."

"I have been trying to work up the courage to say something about it for the last year or so. Granted, I didn't think it would be while I was drunk."

"How long?" You tilted your head to the side, with a hint of amusement gracing your face.

Theo's face flushed pink, as he knew you were teasing him, as well as being genuinely curious. "Since first year. When I saw you on the train to school."

"You didn't even speak to me until third year."

"I was nervous." Theo let out a breath. "I watched you, though."

You held back a laugh as Theo immediately turned even more red. "That was creepy. I didn't mean it like that! I just— we've shared a lot of classes and— I'm going to shut up."

You stood on your tippy toes, kissing Theo's flushed cheeks. "I've had a crush on you since second year."

"Really?"

You nodded, smiling. "So what now?"

"Um, will you go on a date with me? Maybe next weekend after the quidditch game?" Theo asked, feeling more nervous than ever.

"I would love to, " you smiled. And I won't miss this game, I promise."

"I'm holding you to that." Theo smiled back.

You gave Theo another kiss on the cheek. "It's still early. I'll see you later, okay?"

Theo nodded, and you smiled, closing your door. Theo stayed there for a few more seconds until he realized he probably looked crazy for just smiling at your door.

Who knew getting drunk had some perks?

[thevillainswhore]

Dancing With The Devil II

Pairing: Alternative!Bucky Barnes x Cheerleader!F!Reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Summary: It’s the night of the fundraiser, and after a few heated encounters with the one boy you should be staying away from, the tension between you finally comes to its peak when Bucky visits the kissing booth.

Warnings: College AU, bad boy v. good girl trope, inexperienced!reader, jealousy, kissing, dirty talk, smut, fingering, daddy kink, p in v penetration, tit/ass slapping, tit sucking/biting, degradation, mentions of fisting, mild drug use.

Author’s Note: Unbeta’d. Divider by @saradika-graphics. Part 2 and the final installation to this fic — Dancing With The Devil ❤️ song inspo: Chase Atlantic - Slow Down. Thank you for all the lovely comments for the first part, I will get round to responding, I promise 🤍 enjoy x

The night of the fundraiser had arrived; your college campus was set up with an array of stalls that were all decorated beautifully. But you were proud to say, thanks to your hard work, that the cheerleader’s stall, embellished in shades of pink and red, was a show stopper.

The kissing booth had been a huge success so far. Hundreds of students had joined in on the fun and you witnessed many shy pecks to the cheek, some very awkward kisses and a few audacious make outs that had the gathered crowd whistling and hollering. 

Even your own cheeks heated as you discreetly watched the more outgoing boys slide their tongues into your teammate’s mouths, wondering how such an insatiable kiss felt. 

Luckily, Sharonl had been by your side all night, inadvertently keeping you self-aware and in check of your own thirstiness. 

Somehow, you had managed to convince Daisy to let you be a part of the kissing booth. You weren’t all too fussed that she had put you on the sidelines, unable to participate as you were stationed on ticket collection. In fact, you were more relieved. 

A few students had tried to choose you for a kiss and without fail Daisy came rushing over each time to instantly shut them down, harshly explaining that you were only the help. 

While it stung, you were kind of grateful. You had no desire to kiss anyone. Almost anyone, anyway.  

Sharon had redirected your wandering gaze every time you looked through the crowd. You knew it was silly to look for Bucky, even when he asked for you to be there. But a small slither of hope within you couldn’t shut the possibility down, even if it was just to see him in passing. 

Your thoughts had been stuck on him all week. From your waking moments to the silent ones at night on your own while you were trying to fall asleep. His scent seemed to follow you, no matter where you went and his salacious grin, rotting your brain, had gotten you in trouble a few times while you zoned out in class. 

Bucky was a drug you craved — one you couldn’t shake, even if you didn’t really want to. 

In your peripheral vision, you caught a familiar face trying to discreetly peek around the side of a stall opposite you and get a glimpse over in your direction. 

“You know, Shar. You never actually told me if you had any plans tonight.” It was true. She had been too busy dealing with your own crisis for you to consider how she could be spending her time. 

Your friend shrugged while sipping on her fruity slushie. “Nope. I’m a free woman, spending time with my girl.” 

Guilt began to settle in your stomach, then. Sharon had been by your side all night, refusing to help set up the kissing booth when Daisy set you on the sidelines. And by the sight of her man, hiding out just to get to see her, you knew she must have blown plans with him to be with you. Instead, she had decided to be a good friend and keep you company. 

You slammed your own drink onto the makeshift table with a sigh. “Sharon, you can’t stay here.”

She abruptly stopped sucking up the last of her drink through the straw to look at you like you had grown two heads. “And why the hell can’t I?” 

Pointing your finger over to a freshly caught, red faced Steve, you gave her a deadpan glare. “Because right there is your man, literally stumbling over his own feet just to see you. That’s why.” 

You watched closely as your friend took a quick glance at her boyfriend, tightening her lips with amusement before shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Don’t play dumb with me,” you scolded, ignoring her attempt to butt in. “Just because I’m on ticket duty, it doesn’t mean you have to waste your night with me. You should be over there with him! He looks like a lost puppy.” 

Sharon scoffed and shook her head. “Don’t be silly, I like being over here with you.” But you couldn’t quite believe her when you caught her once again sneaking a look over to him with a longing in her eyes. 

“Shar.” You leveled with her, grabbing her hand with an honest smile. “I promise I’ll be okay, go have fun with your man.” 

She looked as though she was about to retort back, though before she could, you stood up and brought her with you. “I mean it.” 

Your best friend looked skeptical for a second before she gave in with a sigh. “You’re sure you’ll be fine?” 

“Positive.” You reassured her instantly with a bright smile. “Now go! Shoo—go smooch Stevie and tell me all about it later.” 

Sharon pulled you into a crushing hug, rocking you dramatically from side to side while she squealed in excitement. “I promise, I promise! Thank you, sweets! You’re a fucking angel.” Squeezing you tightly one last time, she eventually let go, kissing your cheek with a wet smooch and taking off to her boyfriend. 

Slumping back into your seat, you wiped your cheek and watched as Steve caught your friend into his arms, spinning her around with a huge grin and bright eyes. You sighed in bittersweet happiness, truly glad to see your friend so loved up — you didn’t regret sending her off at all. 

Even if you were now pathetically alone, working the ticket collection of the kissing booth you put together. 

The line of students queuing up to hand in their one free kiss tickets seemed never ending as the night went on. You collected so many that the thought of seeing another physically made you feel sick — you didn’t even bother to look at whoever was in line anymore, fixated on your only entertainment of the evening; watching everyone but you enjoy the kissing festivities. 

So when the next forsaken pink ticket with a lipstick print came into your line of vision, you sighed with bitterness. 

“You can go through,” you mumbled while you reached up to take the token. But as you tried to pull it into your hold, you were met with resistance. 

You frowned, beginning to look up. “I said you can—“ 

“Oh, I heard you loud and clear, Bunny.” Devilish, bright blue eyes stared you down. “But believe me when I say I’d rather stay here.” 

It took everything in your power to stay composed. Bucky actually came, your mind internally screamed at you. 

Your nerves went haywire while the two of you still held onto the ticket. As the night had progressed, your hope to see him dwindled by the second until you eventually gave up. But as he currently stood in front of you, eyeing your body in your cheer uniform, you had a hard time not throwing yourself over the table at him. 

“H-Hi, Bucky,” you whispered, still a little awestruck. 

He smirked. “Hey, you.” The finger that held tight to the ticket caressed over yours, sending a shudder down your spine. “Good turn out, then?” 

You cleared your throat. “Mhm, we’ve raised a lot of money so far.” That’s when you noticed two of his friends behind him. “I see you brought company.” 

“I’m a man of my word, sweetheart.” Bucky grinned until he raised an eyebrow. “I thought you’d actually be at the kissing booth, though. Not collecting the tickets for it.” 

“Oh,” you muttered. How could you put it without sounding so lame? “Yeah about that—“ 

Before you could try to explain, Daisy came trotting towards you and the entirety of your body filled with dread. Instantly dropping your hold on the ticket, she was soon by your side wearing her practiced fake smile. 

“Newbie,” she called, gratingly. “What is with the hold up? I gave in and let you do this because I thought you weren’t so incompetent after all.” 

Daisy’s harsh words cut into you like a knife and you slumped into yourself, embarrassed to be scolded in front of Bucky. 

You missed how she glanced to the queue, subtly changing her tune once she realised who was watching. “Come on, honey,” she said in a sickly sweet voice. “You’re not just letting me down, you’re letting the team down. I know you can do better than this.” 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you mumbled, “Sorry, Daisy.” You were so angry at yourself. The thought that Bucky had seen the whole exchange had you suppressing the urge to bolt it out of there.

But you were even more mortified as you looked up and witnessed Daisy twirling her hair and batting her eyelashes in front of him. “You’re Bucky, right? The one who beat up Tony Stark?” 

You watched silently while he looked her up and down. Though it was the exact opposite of the way he looked at you, you couldn’t help the sinking feeling in your stomach that he may be interested in her. 

“It’s actually James,” he said, face devoid of his  happy expression from earlier.

“Huh?” Daisy replied. 

You thought you heard Bucky scoff, but you told yourself you were hearing things. “My name is James.” 

Daisy laughed. “But I’ve heard people call you Bucky.” Leaning over the table, she not so discreetly pushed her chest together with her arms, a pout on her lips. “Don’t you want me to call you that too?” 

A thick haze of green burned your skin. You weren't sure how long you could take watching their back and forth, especially when the one person who disliked you was so obviously flirting with your crush.  

To your surprise though, Bucky didn’t once let his gaze falter down, inherently keeping his eyes on hers. “No. I already told you my name is James.” 

Daisy reeled back a little, shocked that her usual tactics of spinning boys’ into her web was going down the drain. “Anyway,” clearing her throat, she recovered quickly. “I see you bought a ticket. So I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear that any of our cheerleaders in the lineup are available for a kiss.” She flicked her hair over her shoulders and added, “Me included.” 

You ducked your head, trying to force down the sick feeling rising up your throat. Bucky choosing Daisy would break your heart. You already knew you had become quite besotted over him, but with the new tortuous idea of them in your head that could soon become reality, your heart felt like it was ripping out of your chest. 

Unable to see his expression, you missed how his  eyes flicked to you, a handsome smile he only reserved for you on his face. “Easy.” He licked his lips. “I pick my Bunny.” 

“What?” Both Daisy and you looked at him in shock; you instantly snapped your gaze up to him with wide eyes while she scowled in frustration. 

Bucky kept his eyes on you with his next words. “How about it, pretty girl? Wanna kiss me?” 

Your mouth dropped open, jaw unhinged. No words were able to formulate together to answer him quick enough before you were interrupted once again. 

“Unfortunately,” Daisy snapped. “You can’t kiss her, you can only choose from the line up.” 

Rolling his eyes, Bucky begrudgingly looked back at her. “Says who?” 

“Me,” she retorted smugly as she crossed her arms. 

He scoffed. “No one—least of all you—is gonna tell me who I can kiss.” 

You gulped, head still swimming with the fact Bucky was putting up a fight to kiss you. 

“It’s the rules!” Daisy shouted, garnering the attention of more people. 

Exasperated, Bucky sighed. “Listen, Dorothy—“

“It’s Daisy.” 

“—If I were interested in you,” he spoke over her. “I would have asked for you. That is the whole concept behind this kissing booth, right? You know the idea you didn’t come up with.” 

Daisy’s cheeks turned bright red while the people who listened in from the queue snickered at her expense. 

Bucky glanced back at you, his lips curling up while he still directed his words to her. “I should be grateful, though. You just made my job of making sure no one else got to Bunny before me so much easier. Thanks Denise, you can go now.” 

The hushed laughter of the students was agonizing, even for you. Therefore there was only so much painful embarrassment the ice queen herself could take. Defeated, Daisy spun around with a huff and stormed off. 

You followed her retreating back, half panicked about the fallout it could cause in the future. But you were brought back to the present as Bucky held his hand palm up between you. “What do you say, then? Wanna get outta here, Bunny?”

Looking up at him, his eyes gleamed with mischief and satisfaction. A small bout of confidence gave you the courage to stand up, take his hand and be led into what was bound to be danger. “Yes please.” 

His hand engulfed yours while he trailed you away from the swarm of people on campus, whoops and hollers fading into the distance, and to a secluded alleyway. Gently, Bucky backed you up against the wall and stood in front of you, leaving hardly any room between you. The light breeze along with the cold bricks chilled your bare arms from your cheer outfit as goosebumps cascaded over your skin. 

“You cold, angel?” Bucky asked, a tenderness to his voice. 

“N-No, not r-really.” You tried to lie, not wanting to be a pain. But the stutter to your response as you shivered didn’t help your case.

He smiled while he shook his head. “Stubborn girl.” Pulling his arms out of the sleeves, Bucky shucked off his hoodie and wrapped it over your shoulders. “Perfect.”

His intoxicating scent hit you all at once — it was an effort to not bury your head into the material and deeply inhale. 

Instead, you shyly gazed into his eyes. “I actually wanted to thank you for the other day. With—with Tony,” you clarified. “I didn’t get to say it before.” 

Bucky drew closer to you. “That was nothing, pretty girl.”

The thick tension in the air and the proximity between you, so similar to the events in the storage closet, caused you to overshare. “You’re not actually so scary Bucky—like everyone says you are. You’re actually kind of like a big teddy—“ You cut yourself off, too embarrassed to continue what you were saying. 

He lifted your chin with his finger to look at him. “Ah ah, don’t stop there, Bunny.” His nickname for you sent tingles shooting up your thighs. “Carry on.” 

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “I was going to say you remind me of a teddy bear, because you’re soft on the inside even if you do look a little scary on the outside.” Biting your bottom lip, you slowly opened your eyes. 

Bucky smirked. “Yeah? You scared a’me, sweetheart?” 

“Nu-uh,” you whispered as you shook your head with hooded eyes, placing your hands over his chest. “I really like how you look.” 

Bucky grinned even wider. His large hands firmly gripped your face, eyes boring into yours. “I like how you look too, baby.” He pressed you further against the wall, licking his lips with animalistic hunger. His thumb smoothed over the pulse in your neck, watching with rapt attention as he felt the steady pump of blood.

Bucky was intense, full on and the epitome of your parent’s worst nightmare. But you just couldn’t find it in you to care. Sharon’s warnings, the common sense in your head — they were fighting a losing battle. You were doomed from the moment you met him. 

“Y’know what else I like, Angel?” Bucky closed the distance between you, the weight of his body delicious while he skimmed his lips over the sensitive skin of your neck. “I like that a sweet innocent little thing like you can’t stay away from me either.” 

“You don’t make it very easy,” you gasped as his tongue swept over the skin behind your ear. 

He chuckled breathily. “Does your friend know you’re with me?”

You timidly shook your head. “N-No. She's with her b-boyfriend.”

“Oh.” The sensation of his teeth scraping the lobe of your ear forced a whine out of you. “So my Bunny’s bein’ a bad girl, right now?”

Your fingers tangled in the material of his shirt, pulling him closer. “Mhm.” 

“Good,” he growled. “You’re not escapin’ me this time. No running away from Bear. I paid for my kiss after all.” 

With a crazed look in his eyes, he ripped himself out of your neck and tightened his fingers into your hair, pulling you into him to crush his lips against yours. 

“Mmph!” There was no time to process what was happening. Bucky’s fervid desire was blazing, like he couldn’t possibly stand the thought of not touching you for another second. 

His tongue snaked into your mouth and you moaned at the delectable feel of his piercing flicking against your own tongue. The wet slaps of your lips while you made out echoed down the dingy alleyway; it was far from a comfy bed, but the rough brick scraping against your back strangely heightened your excitement. 

Bucky suddenly grabbed your leg and hiked it over his hips. Saliva strung from his lips as he quickly pulled away to breathe into your open mouth. “Holy shit.” His chest rose and fell erratically, but a salacious grin decorated his face as though the struggle to catch his breath was exhilarating to him. “You’re sexy as fuck, Bunny.”

Your head spun from desire, a burning fever coursing through your veins like never before. “I’m so dizzy,” you slurred, completely relying on Bucky for balance.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he cooed before grinding his hips against your heat. “You haven’t seen nothin’ yet.” 

The material of his denim jeans rubbed tantalisingly over your thin underwear — you felt the full force of his bulge against your covered cunt as your tiny skirt raised up. 

You clawed desperately at his neck while your eyes rolled back. “Bear—please—”

“That’s right. Sing for me, baby,” he murmured, eyeing your neck with want. Your cries bounced off the brick walls when he began sucking your skin, just above your collarbone. 

“Never—oh god—I've never done anything like this before,” you panted.

Bucky pulled away with a wet pop. You watched as his eyes dilated at the sight of a dark hickey staining your neck. “Don’t you fuckin’ worry about that. I’ll take care of you.” 

Sharon’s warning still danced around in your head, a small voice clinging on to your last shred of restraint. “But—”

“Shh, Bunny baby.” He looked at you then, with his bright blue eyes and swollen lips. You hung onto his every word, even when the tips of his fingers teased the inside of your thigh. “I’ve got you, okay? You’re with me now.” 

And just as Bucky pulled the soaked gusset of your panties to the side, you knew you were a devout sinner, ready to let him take over the entirety of your mind when he said, “Daddy’s never gonna let his Angel go.” 

The pads of his two fingers slowly slid through the middle of your folds, the substantial amount of slick making the glide easy for him. “Oh fuck me,” he gasped. “Baby, you’re fuckin’ drippin’.” 

Words were lost on you. Your nails dug deeply into his arms while you struggled to stand on one leg without shaking. “I—oh my god—I can’t.” 

You missed the awestruck expression on Bucky’s face as he watched his own fingers move over your sex, the glisten of his rings coated with your arousal. With a sudden growl, he slapped your pussy, splatters of your wetness flicking over his forearm while you yelped in surprise. “Mm—that’s the good shit right there.” 

He seemed to be entranced, lost in his own world as you clung to him. “Bear,” you whined needily. “Bear, I need you.” 

But your cries went ignored. At least, only until he slowly sunk two fingers into your tight hole and made you scream out his name. “Bucky!” 

The groan that rumbled through his chest vibrated through your whole body. His free arm slithered around your waist and pulled you into him. Blowing the strands of hair dangling in front of his eyes, he stared you down while he continued to fuck you with his fingers, each time grinding them into you as deep as possible and basking in the fluttering of your eyes. “You fuckin’ love that, don’t you, huh? Love Daddy shoving his fingers so far into your wet cunt?” 

All you could do was nod dumbly, your head heavy and clouded over with lust. 

“Of course you fuckin’ do.” Bucky laughed before suddenly pulling his fingers out of you and leaving you emptier than you felt before him. 

You whined loudly with the sudden loss of fullness and slumped against him. “W-What—what’s goin’—Bucky—”

The sound of slurping beside your ear caused you to lift your heavy head with immense effort to the sight of Bucky sucking each of his fingers that had just been inside of you, like a starved bear. It winded you. He made sure to lick down to the knuckles, not a drop of your essence left untouched, even as he rolled his tongue over his rings. 

You watched, dazed and dizzy until he hummed in satisfaction and finally opened his eyes to look at you. “You taste fuckin’ incredible.” 

The fuzziness of your head switched off the part of your brain that made you tremble in his presence. You were holding on by a thread as you mumbled a “T-Thank you.” 

A couple of seconds passed by with your heaving breaths and an unbearable knot pulsing away in your lower stomach. Though, Bucky soon interrupted the silence. “Wanna come take a look at my car?”

You frowned, an unfulfilled orgasm made you feel delirious. Had you heard him right? He had just stuffed you with his fingers, literally leaving you a disheveled mess on his shoulder and he asked if you wanted to go see his car?

“It’s a Mustang Mach 1. She’s a real beauty.” Bucky offered, as though the model type would sway you to say yes when you knew absolutely nothing about cars. He seemed so casual and so the only way you thought to act was the complete same. 

Nodding your head, you took a deep breath and replied. “S-Sure.” 

Grabbing your hand, he grinned and began walking you to the parking lot of the campus. 

Little did you know, your very own devil was about to drag you into the pits of hell, tarnishing your white wings and making you his queen of the underworld. 

“Oh my god—Bear, please!” 

“Right fuckin’ there baby, ride my fuckin’ dick like the good girl you are.” Bucky’s fingers dug into the skin of your hips while you bounced on his cock, the skirt of your uniform bunched around your waist. “That's it, Bunny. Keep on hoppin’ for daddy, sweet girl.”

When Bucky had asked if you wanted to see his car, you truly thought that was what his intentions were. Even if he had just fucked you with his fingers, your naivety still let you believe he had no ulterior motives. Oh, how wrong you were. 

You followed him blindly when he wanted to show you the interior, thinking nothing of the fact that he made you climb over the console and into the backseat for comfortability. 

But now, as the windows fogged up and your bare tits bounced up and down since Bucky had torn his hoodie and the shirt of your cheer uniform over your shoulders, the only nonsensical thought your mind could supply was how much of a sucker you were for temptation — an innocent lamb ready to sin. 

The meat of your asscheeks clapped against his thick thighs while your hand slammed against the window; the built up perspiration inside the car coming away as your palm slid down with a screech. “So—so big—you’re so big, Bear.” 

Bucky’s sweat-stricken hair stuck to each side of his temple and he grunted deeply while the sound of your slick sloshed over his cock. “God, you’re leakin’ all over my dick.” He looked down and grinned at the sight of him stretching your hole wide open. “So fuckin’ wet for me, bun bun.” 

Your needy whines were music to his ears as you threw your head back. “Mm—can’t help it—you— you do this to m-me.” 

That seemed to please him greatly. “Yeah, Bunny?”

Bucky grabbed you by the chin, the chunky rings on his fingers indenting marks onto your protruding cheeks. “Who’s cock is stuffin’ your cunt full, huh? Who’s fuckin’ makin’ you soaked? Tell me, baby.” 

“Y-You, Bear,” you moaned.

But Bucky wasn’t satisfied. “Say it like you fuckin’ mean it.” 

“You’re keeping me full, baby! Daddy’s making me all wet!”

Bucky groaned with a sinister smile. “That’s more fuckin’ like it.” The thrust of his hips began to piston up into you and his balls slapped against the meat of your ass with the force. “Look at ya—all dumbed out ‘cause Daddy’s so deep in your hole.”  

Drool started to dribble down your chin. The tip of his cock hit the sensitive nerves in your cunt just right and words were the last thing on your mind. “Can’t even think for me, can you, baby?” 

The car bobbed up and down with the fast rhythm between the two of you, the suspension taking most of the beating. If you were of more sane mind, you would have been mortified with the thought of the scene should anyone walk by the parking lot. But as the muscles in your thighs burned from exertion, you couldn’t find it in you to care; not for the life of you would you stop, not when you had never felt such sinful pleasure in all your life. “I'm aching, Bear—please—I need more.” 

Bucky’s eyes rolled back with the sweetest plea he had ever heard. With a growl, he ripped his hands from your waist and spanked your tits before wrapping them both around your neck to bring you nose to nose with him. “Don’t gotta do anything else but this baby, keep makin’ me feel good, yeah? Gonna fuckin’ blow soon.” 

“Oh,” you whimpered. Your clit tingled with the prospect of Bucky cumming inside of your cunt and with a newfound energy, you worked harder to ride his cock. 

Gazing at you with hooded eyes, he chuckled deliriously. “Sound good, bunny? Want me to blow my load inside a’ya?” 

“Yes!” you pleaded, nodding your head desperately. “Want you to cum in my tight pussy, Bear.” 

He laughed hysterically. “Look at how far you’ve come, Angel. Taking what you want like you own it.” 

Your nails dug into the skin of Bucky’s chest. The quick glide of his cock in and out of your cunt was too much for you, so much that your mouth hung open shamelessly.

“Such a good slut for me, bunny—you wanna be my slutty little bunny, huh?” Gripping your throat tightly, he manhandled you away from his forehead to hold you up like a ragdoll. When you didn’t answer he lightly slapped your cheek until your eyes widened and looked at him. “Answer me you fuckin’ slut.” 

“Yes Daddy!” you cried. “Please—I just wanna cum. Let me cum!” 

Bucky bit his bottom lip as he looked down at your pussy sucking him in. “I don’t know, pretty baby. I don’t think you wan’ it bad enough.” 

He was toying with you. You were a wreck in his hold with tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“I do—I do!” you swallowed against the dryness of your mouth as you fought for breath. “Do anything—I’ll do anything for you, Bear. It's too much—please!” 

“You cryin’ for me?” He laughed breathlessly. Sitting up with an excited vigor, Bucky licked the tear tracks on your cheek, still managing to thrust up into you while he whispered into your ear with a moan. “So goddamn beautiful when you cry for me.” 

Running the tip of his finger down your stomach and down to your pussy, he forewent touching your throbbing clit and instead teased it against your already stuffed hole. 

You gasped harshly at the feel of him pushing against your stretched cunt. “B-Bucky! N-No you can’t, you’re already—I’m already so full.” 

But you were hopeless to the devil on your shoulder, the same one who began inching his finger beside his cock and pushing it into you. “Shhh, you can take it, baby. Make Daddy Bear proud.” 

Taking a deep breath, you squeezed your eyes closed tightly as your slick helped to suck in both his cock and his finger. The sensation was unusual, but somehow you wanted more. Your mouth hung open on a silent scream. 

“There’s a good Bunny—knew you could do it, sweetheart.” Bucky rubbed his thumb over the skin of your throat soothingly, giving you a couple of seconds to get used to the new feeling. But as soon as he felt the flutter of your pussy, he grinned wickedly and hooked his finger over the soft spongy spot inside of you. “Now hold on tight while I ruin your cunt.” 

A loud squeak was finally forced out of you once he began fucking back up into you. You thought you felt full before, now you were holding onto the last of your sanity; lost in the pits of a torturous yet addicting feeling.  

“What’s a’matter, hm? Thought you were already too full, baby? But just look at your slutty little pussy taking more.” Bucky hummed with a nefarious gleam in his eye. “Wonder if I could get my full fist in you.” 

The juices from your cunt squelched loudly, dripping down the length of Bucky’s finger and gathering in the palm of his hand. The image of him steadily working you up to take the size of his fist, imagining the wide gape your hole would make as you clenched around his wrist was too much for your already overstimulated self to handle. 

“Wan’ it,” you garbled around the spit in your mouth. You could barely keep your eyes open as you withstood the battering your pussy was so greedily taking. “Wan’ you to fuck me with your whole hand, Bear.” 

Bucky sucked bruises on the skin of your tits as they bounced in his face, the wicked intent smothering his face deepening the more you lost your will to him. “Fuck, angel. You really are perfect.” 

With his free hand, he palmed your ass, forcing you to bounce on him even harder. “We’re gonna have so much fun together, yknow that, baby?” His voice rang like a melody in your head, one you were becoming lost to. “Yeah. Daddy’s gonna teach you all kind of new things, pretty girl.” 

The blossoming ache in your lower stomach magnified into a tight ball of pleasure, your clit painfully throbbing with the need to let go. 

“I can’t—,” you sobbed. “I need to—gotta cum, Bucky—please.”

“Are you askin’ me permission, sweetheart?” 

“Yes!” You cried to the roof of the car. “Please—please Daddy—please let me cum. I can’t hold it any l-longer.” 

“You gonna cream all over Daddy’s hand, baby?” Bcuky’s voice grew hoarser as he pistoned his hips into your waiting cunt, meeting you each time you threw yourself down. “Gonna give me your sweet little cunt juices so I can taste you again?” 

“Ugh!” You whined, high pitched. “Anything you want—anything you want!” 

You were balancing on the fence between heaven and hell; the lines of pain and pleasure blurring so much that you were sure you were going to pass out as your legs shook and your stomach cramped with refrained edging. 

But by some almighty higher force, your prayers were answered when Bucky’s fingers harshly pinched your enlarged clit and twisted, timing his motion perfecting with a scrape of his fingertip against your inner walls. “Make a mess on me then, Bunny.” 

White noise blasted over the deafening screams released from your inner core, the rattle of the bouncing car and Bucky’s deep moans as your pussy clenched unforgivingly around his cock. Your soul seemed to ascend, overtaken by some unnatural force as your limbs seized and became weightless all at once. 

It was like your body wasn’t yours anymore, like you weren’t actually present as your conscience waned in and out. One second you felt the explosive ricochets of electricity dance along your veins, and another you were sure you blacked out. 

Your clouded mind came back into focus as a pair of hands squeezed your hips, your sex clamping down tightly on the length of a cock grinding inside of you. 

“You were so fuckin’ good, Bun.” Bucky’s gruff timber woke you up fully. The sight of him licking your combined juices as he stared heatedly between your legs brought you back to the current. 

Looking down, you blinked several times to find a thick load of milky white cum leaking from your hole. 

“You—,” you swallowed the dryness of your throat as you tried to gather your thoughts. “You c-came in me.” 

Leaning his head back against the seat, Bucky laughed with a fucked out smile. “I absolutely fuckin’ did, Angel.” He thrusted up into you one last time, smirking at the yelp you let out. “And don’t you look a pretty picture.” 

Your bashfulness came back in full force as you buried your neck into Bucky’s chest, slumping onto his body with a whine, his cock still hard in your cunt. 

“Nothing to be ashamed of, baby.” He sighed, satisfied as he grabbed a smoke from his front pocket half way down his thighs. “You did real good for me, sweetheart.” 

You turned your head into his cheek. “I did?” You asked, craving his validation. 

Lighting his joint and taking a hit, Bucky blew out the smoke from his mouth, grabbed your chin and fused his lips to yours once more, taking no preamble or measures before tangling his tongue with yours. 

You whimpered as the taste of weed teased your tastebuds, squirming unashamedly, even when more of Bucky’s load rolled down your legs. 

Regretfully soon, his lips left yours and he gave you one last peck to your forehead before bringing you to rest on his chest again. 

“I’m fuckin’ keepin’ you, bunny baby.” Bucky slapped your ass and you jolted, clenching around him as you whined out loud. His tongue darted out to lick his raw-bitten lips, a hungry smirk on his face while he squeezed the bruised, sore flesh. “All mine.”

[tender-rosiey]

king teatime — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: sukuna forced into playtime with daughter LETS GO

your daughter, a bundle of energy and enthusiasm, is setting up her tea party on the coffee table, her tiny hands arranging an assortment of plastic cups and saucers with meticulousness.

from where you’re seated nearby, you watch the scene unfold with a mix of amusement and affection.

your daughter babbles on, her high-pitched voice bubbling with excitement as she fills the cups with imaginary tea and hands them out with exaggerated ceremony.

sukuna, while visibly disinterested, maintains his position with a begrudging tolerance. his gaze flickers occasionally towards you, perhaps a threat that you roped him into this.

you chuckle and shrug your shoulders, “papa duties, my dear husband.”

he is about to retort, but your daughter interrupts him.

“papa, you have to drink your tea!” your daughter insists, her big eyes shining with earnestness as she thrusts a cup towards him.

sukuna raises an eyebrow, glancing down at the flimsy plastic cup with a look of mild distaste. “right. and what exactly is this supposed to be?”

“it’s tea!” she replies, her voice tinged with a note of exasperation, as if the answer should be obvious. “you have to pretend it’s delicious.”

sukuna’s eyes twitch at the command, but he swallows his protests for the time being. he takes the cup with a practiced air of detachment, bringing it to his lips and pretending to sip.

his gaze shifts to you, catching your eye with a hint of reluctant amusement. you offer him a playful wink in return, enjoying his silent struggle.

“is it good?” your daughter asks, her voice filled with hopeful anticipation.

“splendid,” sukuna replies deadpan, placing the cup back on the table with a precise motion.

she seems to take his words at face value, her face lighting up with a proud smile. “I’m glad! here, have some more!”

as she continues her animated chatter, sukuna’s attention wanders back to you. his eyes hold a crap ton of exasperation. you suppress a laugh. sukuna sends you a little look, and you instantly go quiet.

“brat, can’t you let uraume play instead of me?” sukuna mutters under his breath.

your daughter’s head whips around, her face instantly clouding with indignation. “no! uraume is not my papa! you’re my papa, and I wanna play with you! not anyone else!”

sukuna’s expression remains unchanged, but you can see the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. his eyes meet yours again, and this time, there’s a hint of reluctant acceptance in his gaze.

he doesn’t say anything.

you grin, thoroughly entertained by the interaction. “looks like you’re stuck with tea time, honey,” you tease lightly, your tone affectionate.

he narrows his eyes slightly, “I see that.”

your daughter, undeterred, continues to pour imaginary tea, occasionally placing a cup in front of sukuna with a flourish.

“more tea, papa!” she demands with a commanding tone that leaves no room for argument.

sukuna accepts the cup with a resigned sigh, lifting it to his lips and pretending to sip again. “how can I refuse such a generous offer?” his voice is dry, but nonetheless, he indulges her, even if in the tiniest bits.

your daughter beams, and she clicks her cup against his before drinking her tea—very dramatically. your husband places the cup on the table, seemingly have had enough.

your daughter looks at you proudly and declares, “papa has become very good at teatime!”

“right?” you agree, “as expected of the king of curses.”

“do not mock me,” he grumbles, standing up and dusting his clothes. he folds his four arms against his chest. he looks down at your daughter, “that is enough.”

she pouts for a second before smiling mischievously, “papa, how about you wear a skirt?”

“how about I chase you and eat you for dinner today?”

your daughter shrieks and runs out of the room, laughing. she got used to her dad’s empty threats—much like you did—but he still is pretty scary.

you watch her dash out the room before bursting into laughter, “that—” you wheeze, “that was the best entertainment of my entire life, oh god!”

a large shadow looms over your figure, and you cover your mouth. small giggles escape your lips, as you lock eyes with your husband. a scowl is ever-present on his face, and he continues observing you.

he cocks an eyebrow, “looks like you’re having fun?”

you purse your lips and rapidly shake your head. he lets out a breath, obviously unconvinced, “I have been too lenient with you two.”

“we love you too, honey!”

he clicks his tongue in annoyance, but the hand that ruffles your hair speaks a whole different story.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss@pompompurin1028@scul-pted@requiem626k@nameless-shrimp@sonder-paradise@jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author

@libbyistired @anon1412@maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1@sad-darksoul@ko-fi-heart@pumpkindudeishere@suyaaachin@babyqueen17@chaosguy352@murakami-kotone@sukun4ryomen@yumieis@hearts4itoshi@sleepyxxhead@dunixxd@sleepycrybbylaiah @imjustaduckwholikesbread @emilyyyy-08@spacebaby1@arabellatreaty@viscade @washeduphasbeen @janbannan @sugurubabe @enidths @mwtsxri @peppersapro @uranosbaaee @lifeisadumpie @guacam011y @kurooandkenmasslut @callmemirro

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize

check out my buy me a coffee!

[xo100]

Little dreams P2 - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Lando and Y/N reconnect at the Italian Grand Prix, where a coffee date sparks the beginning of a heartfelt relationship. As Lando bonds with Leo and supports Y/N, their connection grows into something deeper, proving that love can bloom in the most unexpected places.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1775

*:･ﾟ A/N: hello babes! As you all wanted part two of little dreams, hope you all enjoy this and that this was what you expected, love you lots!

masterlist / community / request / previous

౨ৎ

The envelope with Lando’s note sat on Y/N’s nightstand for weeks after the race. She’d reread it so many times she practically had it memorized. Every time she glanced at it, she felt a flutter of something she hadn’t experienced in a long time—hope.

Leo, of course, had been on cloud nine since the race. He showed off his signed hoodie and piece of the car to everyone, from his teacher to the mailman. Y/N couldn’t blame him; the weekend had been a dream come true.

But for her, it was more than just a memorable race weekend. Lando’s thoughtful gesture and the note he’d written kept replaying in her mind. She wasn’t sure if he’d meant it seriously or if it was just a kind gesture, but a part of her couldn’t help but wonder.

One evening, as Leo was sprawled on the living room floor playing with his toy cars, Y/N finally made a decision.

“Leo,” she said, sitting on the couch and watching him race his little orange McLaren across the carpet.

“Yeah, Mom?”

“What would you think about going to another race?”

Leo’s head shot up, his eyes wide. “Really? Are you serious?”

She smiled. “I was thinking maybe we could go to Monza next month. You’ve always wanted to see the Italian Grand Prix, right?”

Leo practically launched himself into her arms. “Yes! Yes! You’re the best, Mom!”

Her heart swelled at his excitement, but a small part of her was nervous. She didn’t know if Lando would even remember them. But she couldn’t deny that a part of her hoped he would.

---

The Italian Grand Prix was as electric as Y/N remembered. The Tifosi packed the stands in a sea of red, but Leo stood out in his bright orange hoodie, still proudly sporting Lando’s signature.

They had paddock passes again, and Leo’s excitement was contagious as they wandered through the bustling paddock.

“Mom, do you think Lando will remember us?” Leo asked, clutching her hand tightly.

“I’m not sure, sweetheart,” she admitted, though her heart hoped otherwise. “But if we see him, we’ll say hi.”

As they passed the McLaren garage, a familiar voice called out.

“Leo!”

Y/N turned to see Lando walking toward them, his face lighting up with a genuine smile. He was dressed in his team gear, a headset slung around his neck.

“Lando!” Leo shouted, letting go of Y/N’s hand and running to his favorite driver.

Lando crouched to greet him, ruffling his hair. “Hey, buddy! I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon. What are you doing here?”

Leo grinned. “My mom said we could come! And I brought my hoodie again!”

Lando laughed, glancing up at Y/N. “Good to see you again, Y/N.”

“You too,” she said, her cheeks warming under his gaze.

“You picked a great race to come to,” Lando said, standing and gesturing to the paddock around them. “Monza’s always special.”

Leo was already babbling about his favorite parts of the track, and Lando listened patiently, nodding along.

“Hey,” Lando said after a moment, crouching back down to Leo’s level. “How would you like to watch the race from the McLaren hospitality suite tomorrow? You’ll have the best view of the track.”

Leo’s jaw dropped. “Really? Are you serious?”

“Completely serious,” Lando said, grinning.

Leo turned to Y/N, his eyes pleading. “Can we, Mom? Please?”

Y/N laughed softly. “Of course, sweetheart.”

Lando smiled, his gaze lingering on her for a moment. “Great. I’ll make sure everything’s arranged.”

---

The next day, Y/N and Leo found themselves seated in the McLaren hospitality suite, the perfect view of the track laid out before them. Leo was over the moon, and Y/N couldn’t stop smiling at his joy.

When Lando stopped by before the race, Leo was thrilled to see him again. But it was the way Lando looked at Y/N, his eyes warm and his smile soft, that made her heart race.

“Thanks for this,” she said quietly as Leo chatted with another team member.

“It’s my pleasure,” Lando said, his tone sincere. “I meant what I said in the note, you know. I’d really like to see you again.”

Y/N blinked, her heart skipping a beat. “You… you did?”

Lando chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. I know it’s a bit unconventional, but… I like you, Y/N. You’re smart, funny, and clearly an amazing mom. I’d like to get to know you better—if you’re interested.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush, but she couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. “I’d like that too.”

“Good,” Lando said, his grin widening. “Then it’s a date. After the race, of course.”

Y/N laughed, her heart lighter than it had been in years. As she watched Lando head to the garage, she couldn’t help but feel that this was the start of something new—not just for her, but for Leo too.

Because sometimes, life had a way of surprising you when you least expected it.

---

The roar of engines and the electrifying energy of the race filled the air, but Y/N could hardly focus. Her mind kept drifting to Lando’s words—“It’s a date.”

Leo, on the other hand, was completely absorbed. He cheered loudly every time Lando’s car appeared on the screen or zipped past their viewing area. His excitement was contagious, and Y/N found herself getting lost in the moment, clapping and laughing as Leo celebrated every overtake.

When the race ended, Lando finished P5—a strong result given the challenges of the weekend. Leo cheered like it was a win, his voice carrying over the crowd’s noise.

“Mom! Did you see that? Lando was amazing!” Leo exclaimed, bouncing on his toes.

“He really was,” Y/N said, her heart swelling at her son’s joy.

A McLaren team member soon arrived to escort them back to the paddock, where the post-race buzz was in full swing. Lando was being interviewed by reporters, his race suit still streaked with sweat and grime, but he spotted Y/N and Leo waiting nearby.

With a quick smile and a nod, he finished his interview and made his way over.

“Hey, Leo! Did you enjoy the race?”

“It was awesome!” Leo said, his face glowing with excitement. “You were so fast, Lando!”

Lando grinned, crouching down to fist-bump him. “Thanks, buddy. Your cheering must’ve helped.”

Leo beamed, clearly delighted.

“And what about you?” Lando asked, turning his attention to Y/N. “Did you have fun?”

“I did,” she said, smiling softly. “Leo couldn’t stop cheering for you.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Lando said, his grin widening. “I’ve got to do some post-race debriefs, but after that… how about we grab that coffee?”

Y/N hesitated, glancing at Leo, who was now busy inspecting the paddock pass hanging around his neck.

“Are you sure? You must be exhausted after the race.”

“I’m sure,” Lando said, his voice warm. “Besides, I owe you for bringing my number one fan to the race.”

Y/N laughed, her nerves easing. “Okay. Coffee sounds great.”

---

Lando had arranged for a quiet café just outside the paddock, away from the crowds and cameras. By then, Leo was happily napping in a stroller the McLaren staff had kindly lent them, his little head resting on his hoodie.

Y/N and Lando sat across from each other, steaming cups of coffee between them. The atmosphere was surprisingly relaxed, and Y/N found herself smiling more than she had in a long time.

“So,” Lando said, leaning back in his chair. “Tell me more about you. I know you’re a Formula 1 fan, you’re an amazing mom, and you’ve got great taste in drivers.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Well, I’ve been a fan since I was a kid. My dad used to watch every race, and I’d sit with him, asking a million questions. I guess it stuck.”

“And now you’re passing it on to Leo,” Lando said, glancing at the sleeping boy with a fond smile. “He’s a lucky kid.”

“Thanks,” Y/N said, her voice soft. “It hasn’t been easy, but he makes it all worth it.”

Lando nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I can tell how much you love him. It’s inspiring, really.”

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest. “What about you? I’m sure racing keeps you busy, but what do you do when you’re not on the track?”

Lando chuckled. “Honestly? Not much. I play a lot of golf, stream some games, and spend time with my friends. It’s a pretty simple life when I’m not racing.”

“I bet it’s nice to have that balance,” Y/N said.

“It is,” Lando agreed, his gaze steady. “But I think it’d be even better if I had someone to share it with.”

Y/N’s breath caught at the intensity in his eyes. She looked down at her coffee, her cheeks flushing. “That’s… a bold thing to say.”

Lando leaned forward, his tone soft but sincere. “I don’t mean to rush anything. I just think you’re amazing, Y/N. And I’d like to get to know you better—if you’re open to it.”

Y/N met his gaze, her heart pounding. “I’d like that too.”

---

What started as a simple coffee date blossomed into something neither of them had expected. Lando and Y/N kept in touch after the race, texting and calling whenever his busy schedule allowed.

He made an effort to get to know her and Leo, sending little gifts for Leo and even inviting them to a few more races. For Y/N, it felt like a dream—one she hadn’t dared to imagine.

And for Lando, it was a chance to connect with someone who saw him not just as a driver, but as a person.

One evening, as they all sat together watching a race replay in Y/N’s living room, Leo looked up at Lando with a serious expression.

“Are you my mom’s boyfriend now?”

Y/N froze, her face turning red, but Lando just laughed, ruffling Leo’s hair.

“Well, that’s up to your mom,” he said, glancing at Y/N with a playful smile.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her grin. “I guess we’ll see.”

Leo nodded, satisfied, before turning back to the TV.

And as Lando reached for Y/N’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, she couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, they were on the right track—together.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!

*:･ﾟtags; @gridprincess-04 , @justaf1girl , @charli123456789 , @lexiecamposv

[teaboot]

I seriously hope you can job hop to something else cause you're not chaotic neutral man.

You're still a white Canadian whose actions and job help more the megacorps keep the status quo.

I really looked up to you but that's on me.

And yeah, I know security, cop shit and military pay good money but at the cost of my people? Fuck no.

Listen. I feel you. But there's a lot of cold, power-tripping bastards in this line of work and if I stick where I am then they don't get to have that.

I'm not a cop. I am not beholden to the justice system. Sometimes I get contracted out to people who say shit like "addicts should be put down, if you see any crackheads drag them out" and I nod and say "yes sir", and then I take their money and use it to buy those people coffee and a sandwich and tell 'em when free lunch days are at the church.

Boss sees me walking with someone and thinks I'm kicking them out, gives my boss great reviews. I'm having a great conversation with Connie, who used to by a stylist and wound up on the street after an accident that left her with chronic pain and a heroin addiction. Connie learns that there's a gap between two property lines nearby where technically nobody can call to have her removed.

There's a really sweet guy in town who's normally very nice, but sometimes flies into paranoid rage and yells slurs at people. Sometimes he forgets he's been banned from places and wanders in looking for a wife he hasn't had for nine years. Owner sends me to kick him out, and I ask "hey Mike, how are you?" And see where we are today.

One time there was a guy whose abusive ex kept following him to work, and I got to walk him to his car at the end of every day to make sure she couldn't get him alone.

Another person had a stalker who kept asking receptionists when she was gonna be there, when she was supposed to leave, if she was in today. I'd keep record of every time he came in, every time someone saw him, every time he violated his restraining order or damaged her things.

And when I wonder if I'm actually helping or not, or if I'm part of the greater problem, I remember that other people who work with me call homeless people wildlife and talk about how bad they wanna get an excuse to fight someone and I remember that I'm the one who knows where the blind spots on the cameras are, and thank God it's not him.

My position is fundamentally different from that of the military or law enforcement. I don't *need* to be buddy-buddy with most of these dickheads- I don't *need* to send people into the justice system.

I do single-person foot patrol. Nobody cares how I get the job done. They say, "Hey, faceless goon number three- make that bastard disappear" and I say "on it, boss" and give him tickets to disney world.

I once asked another guard if he knew that one of our regulars used to be an airplane technician. He said, "No, I don't talk to them". Blanket "Them". "Them" as in street people. "Them" as in addicts, or shoplifters, or ex-cons, or sex workers.

I asked why, and he told me, "it's easier if you don't think of them as people."

Anyhow, now I get calls to "watch that sketchy lady who just came in" and I say, "yes, sir" and leave her the fuck alone, 'cause that's Jolene, and people always think she's on drugs and aggressive but she's just deaf in one ear and slurs cause she has brain damage, you dickhead

so yeah, don't worry, I've spent a lot of time weighing the pros and cons of my vocation, and I still think I'd rather be in charge of my locations than someone like Darryl, who dreams of "cuffing a perp" and drives a car with Punisher decals on the hood

Also it's minimum wage but that's kinda tangential

[rose-pearls]

The perils of love

Summary: being in love with Luke seemed to be a bad idea as you realise that he doesn't seem to be interested. But as you get ready to move on from love entirely your father decides to appear and two people fall for you.

Main Taglist : @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open)

Part 2

Luke Castellan, everyone knew him at camp either for his sword skills or just his kind smiles for every camper that walked into the Hermes cabin. You had fallen for him the moment you met him, sweet brown eyes and a kind smile had you into a puddle. 

You had been twelve, wandering around the Hermes cabin, waiting desperately for your parent to claim you but the days went by, and you still were there. The little girls crush however didn’t went by but grew stronger every day you saw the boy who slowly turned into a man that had all the girls going crazy over him.  

He had been kind to you but there was always a look that you couldn’t decipher, until today that was.

“So, where is your number one fan Luke?”, you hear Chris say in a teasing tone and after a moment you hear Chris say your name, as if to make it clear it was you. 

“I don’t know and frankly I don’t have the time to care right now,” Luke says after letting out a sigh, but you felt your chest tighten at the words. Chris snorts at the words and you don’t expect what he says next.

“You know that there is a betting pool as to when the both of you are going to date,” you don’t know how Luke reacts, as you are practically one with the wall, but you hear him snort.

“Please, she is a sweet girl, but I would never date her. I don’t know how to explain it but sometimes she can just be a little-”, he seems to be trying to find his words and as you wait for it you feel tears brimming in your eyes at his previous statement.

“Clingy? I mean she is practically everywhere you are.”, the words are like a bullet to your heart, particularly when you hear Luke agree.

“I know right, I mean I know that she is still part of the Hermes cabin as she hasn’t been claimed yet but still,” you try to blink the tears away, not willing to cry as you hear the words being said by the man you had always looked up to. 

“Maybe she will never be claimed, I mean after three years,” Chris says, and you can hear the grimace in his voice, he says it with such carelessness as if you haven’t been thinking about the same thing every night for the past three years, wondering what was wrong with you.

“We’ll see what happens I guess, but maybe it would be good for her to be in another cabin,” Luke says, he looks like he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, but Chris adds one last phrase to their conversation.

“Or better for you,” there is a quiet hum of agreement and that is the only thing you need before leaving the cabin quietly, the book that you had come for quickly forgotten.

You knew it was pitiful, the fact that they all seemed to know that you liked the Hermes boy and that they all pitied you for it. Because in the end the boy would never go for you, he had a hundred girls waiting for him and yet here you were hoping for the impossible.

Tears are brimming in your eyes, but you quickly brush them away, not wanting to cry after what had happened, you needed to be strong now. It was time for you to get over that stupid crush and get on with your life, maybe if you trained more your godly parent would finally recognize you and claim you.

“What are you doing here all alone?”, you suddenly hear someone say behind you and you turn around to find Annabeth looking at you with worried eyes.

“Thinking, the lake always seems to sooth me,” you say, the words coming a bit weaker than you intended them too. The girl simply nods at your words before sitting down next to you.

“What about you?”, you quietly ask her, and she lets out a sigh.

“Needed to get out a little bit, I can only strategise so much before going crazy,” she says with a small smile, and you can’t help but smile at her words.

“I’m sure your strategy will be incredible, as always,” you tell her and she simply nods, looking too far into her thoughts.

“Chiron is thinking of splitting up the Hermes cabin,” she suddenly says, and you turn to look at her in surprise.

“Really? How so?”, you can’t help but ask, wondering if this is maybe your chance to get a bit away from a certain Hermes boy.

“He thinks that the unclaimed children and children of minor gods should get the chance to chose in which team they want to be,” she looks conflicted, and you can understand why, this could mean less people for the blue team, her team.

“It seems like a kind gesture,” you can’t help but say and Annabeth nods in agreement.

“It is, although he could’ve said it sooner, now we all need to find a different strategy and we are going crazy with figuring out who will be on our team,” she seems overwhelmed, and you can’t help but put your hand on her shoulder trying to calm her down.

“Hey, calm down it will all be alright,” you tell her, and she takes a deep breath before slowly nodding in agreement.

“I know, I just don’t want to lose,” she says with a pout, and you can finally see the twelve-year-old she really is, that childlike excitement at the thought of capture the flag.

The both of you are deep in thought before her voice breaks the silence, her voice small as she talks.

“Which team are you choosing?”, it was probably a valid question to ask, you were unclaimed so you could technically choose which team to be on, but you just couldn’t get the previous conversation you had heard out of your head.

“The fact that you aren’t saying anything makes me think that you are going to go on the red team,” it seems like she is trying to tease you but there is some sort of hurt woven into her words.

“Don’t take it personally,” you can’t help but say, as much as you would’ve liked staying on the blue team you just couldn’t bear to be that close to Luke after what you had heard. You didn’t know what you would be doing tonight as you were sleeping in the same cabin as always, but he wouldn’t pay attention to you not unless you went to him.

“Did something happened with Luke?”, the carefully asked question makes you look at Annabeth with wide eyes, she had an understanding look in her eyes and you couldn’t help but curse the fact that she was Athena’s daughter.

“Nothing happened, I just realised that maybe I should get to know other people and that maybe it would get me out of my comfort zone,” there are a lot of things unsaid, Annabeth knows it too. Luckily, she doesn’t know of the conversation you had heard, or the fact that the words had cut you deeper than you could’ve ever thought they would. 

“You should probably tell Chiron and the red team, I heard that they were planning a strategy evening to talk about what they were going to do tomorrow,” you try to find anger in Annabeth’s eyes but there is only understanding and a lingering sadness that seems to disappear as you get up.

“Good idea, I will be doing that right now. Good luck on the strategy and don’t drive yourself crazy Annabeth you will do great,” you tell her, and a sweet smile appears on her lips as she nods slowly making you smile at her.

“Don’t be a stranger!”, she yells as you are about to leave, and you turn around to smile at her.

“I won’t!”, she looks reassured at the words before turning back to the water, leaving you to go towards Chiron office. 

--

“A little birdie told me you were on the red team,” you hear someone say and turn around to find Clarisse smirking at you.

“Would that little birdie be Chiron?”, you ask, feeling breathless after trying to stab the dummy about a hundredth time with your sword.

“I don’t reveal my sources princess,” she says with a smirk while you feel your cheeks heat up, you tell yourself it’s because of the work out you just did.

“We have a meeting tonight, after dinner at the Ares cabin,” she says while looking around the rink before picking up a sword.

“I’ll be there,” you tell her, expecting the girl to leave you alone but she just comes closer to you.

“After that there is a movie night and a sleepover, one of the Aphrodite kids managed to convince Chiron to allow it,” the words leave you confused for a moment, how would you even have a movie night with all these people.

“Only a few people are invited for that part,” she clarifies, and you feel breathless at the sight of her warm brown eyes, seemingly forgetting about other brown eyes.

“How come I am invited?”, you can’t help but ask, wondering why the Ares girl suddenly seemed sweet to you when she was practically attacking anyone else. 

“Don’t ask too many questions or you’ll be uninvited princess,” the nickname rolls of her tongue in a way that makes your cheeks go red, once again.

“Fine I’ll stop asking questions and just come with my pajama’s,” you tell her, and a satisfied grin makes his way on her lips.

“Good, now back to serious stuff you were holding your sword the wrong way,” she says like it’s a fact, as if she was pointing out that the sky was blue.

“No, I wasn’t!”, you can’t help but say looking at her with wide eyes.

“Yes, it is, let me help you fix it. I need the best people on my team after all,” you get ready to object but as you feel her get behind you putting her hand over yours on the sword to put your hand correctly you find yourself speechless.

The next hour is spent fighting against each other, but you can’t stop laughing as Clarisse tells you stories of her siblings to try and distract you, which ultimately works as you often end up on your ass. You don’t even seem to notice another pair of brown eyes looking at you, farther away, brows furrowed as he looks at the scene in front of him.

--

“Welcome to the exclusive sleepover,” you hear a soft voice say and you turn around to find Silena smiling kindly at you, two glasses in her hands before giving one to you.

“Thank you, guess they really were exclusive as I had never heard of them before,” you say, feeling a bit nervous as you look around the room only to find Clarisse in a heated discussion with another Aphrodite girl.

“Clarisse only invites people that she trusts or likes, which isn’t many, but she does cares for them,” Silena smiles at the Ares girl in front of you and you can’t help but do the same, Clarisse always seemed to be angry but in that moment, she seemed far more softer.

“I’m glad she trusts me,” you say, somehow missing the look Silena gives you, a look of confusion as you seem to have missed her clue on Clarisse liking you.

Clarisse had always been discrete about it, but Silena had caught her looking at you far too often to not know about it. Her fingers always seemed to itch when you were sword fighting, as if she was itching to get your posture right and to be able to touch you even for just a few seconds. You only had eyes for the Castellan boy, or it seemed that way until yesterday when Chiron told them that you would be on their team. Silena didn’t ask much of her mother but in that moment, she couldn’t help but ask her mother for help to get the both of you together. Clarisse deserved her happy ending and you deserved someone who would love you for who you were.

She gets woken from her thoughts as she hears Clarisse talking to you, there is a nervousness in her gestures as she pushes her hair behind her ear, but you don’t seem to realize it as you recount a story. Silena quietly gets up from her spot, and sends and encouraging look towards Clarisse, who seems a bit more at ease now. 

--

Capture the flag is a mess, more than the last time but you try not to let your mind wander too long. A boy that you think is from the Hephaestus cabin runs towards you and you sigh in annoyance before starting to fight against him, quickly ‘killing’ him and making him surrender. 

You had been tasked with trying to find the blue flag, but it seemed as if Annabeth had found a really good spot this time, and she had put more people in defense. After a while you wondered if you had the wrong hunch until you saw something blue flickering in the reflection of your sword. As you turned to look behind you, you saw the blue flag but weirdly there was no one around it.

“This feels like a trap,” you can’t help but whisper under your breath as you try to hide behind the bushes but a blade against your neck makes you stop in your steps.

“Sorry, but I need to do this,” you hear someone say and you turn around to find a sheepish Percy looking at you.

“Hi Percy,” you say with a kind smile and the boy smiles back, looking reassured that you aren’t mad or swinging your sword at him.

“How are you doing?”, you can’t help but ask, you hadn’t seen him since he had been claimed by Poseidon, but the boy seemed healthy.

“Good, well as good as you can when you learn that your father is one of the big three’s and that your life will be a hellhole,” he says with a roll of his eyes, and you can’t help but snort.

“Still as sarcastic I see,” you can’t help but say while laughing and a sheepish grin forms itself on his lips.

“Can’t help it,” he says while shrugging his shoulders.

“It’s a shame you aren’t on our team,” he says quietly, and you smile softly, the two of you had talked a lot when he had arrived, and you felt close to him.

“Maybe next time,” you tell him and the boy smiles at the answer before asking you a question and the two of you talk for a moment before you hear a battle cry and see the red team suddenly making their way in the clearing, the blue team also appearing.

Percy and you look at each other with wide eyes before you take out your sword.

“If you don’t say anything about this, I won’t say anything,” Percy nods quickly and the both of you break away from the tree you were behind before joining your team as Percy joins his.

An Apollo girl comes running towards you, but you quickly manage to disarm her, others following behind her, but you are in such a haze that you don’t realize how close you are getting to the flag. That is until you are met with a familiar blade, Luke’s. 

The boy is looking at you, slightly out of breath from the fighting just like you.

“You can always abandon now sweetheart,” he says and can’t help but blush slightly at the familiar nickname. 

“No chance Castellan, give me your worst,” this seems to make the boy laugh before he quickly wields his swords, yours clashing against his in familiar movements. You had fought many times against Luke as he had taught you how to fight but you had a new trick up your sleeve that Clarisse had taught you. She had told you that his left leg was his weakness, a bruise that had never really fully recovered. 

So, when the opportunity presents itself, you wield your sword against his left leg, making sure not to hurt him too much. But as you hit the spot Luke winces in pain and his sword leaves his hand. You don’t think at that point and simply continue straight to the flag, whispering a soft ‘sorry’ as you go to the Hermes boy.

You manage to take the flag before seeing Percy coming towards you with his sword, you expect the hit, but he seems transfixed, looking at something above you. There is a loud silence, on a battlefield that was filled with battle cries just a second ago.

Chiron’s voice suddenly comes up, suddenly saying your name.

“Daughter of Zeus, king of the gods,” the rest of his words are lost as you look up, only to see the symbol of Zeus above your head, your father’s symbol.

You didn’t know how to feel, you had been waiting for so long but now that it was happening you just felt lost. Why was he claiming you right now?

“Congratulations! Seems like we are cousins now,” you suddenly hear Percy say, he has a bright smile on his lips, but there is also sadness in his eyes. It takes you a few seconds to understand why, you were now a child of the big three, which meant your life was about to be a hellhole as Percy had said.

“Always though there was something familiar between the two of us,” you try to say in a teasing tone, but it falls flat, Percy nodding in understanding.

As you turn around to look at the rest of the camp you see Luke looking at you with wide brown eyes, as if he was seeing you for the first time. You turn your gaze towards Clarisse who is looking at you with a proud smile and something else that you can’t quite understand.

There was surely a lot of trouble coming but not the one you were expecting, it would be far more complicated than monsters or a father that decided to appear after fifteen years. Matters of the heart were after all the most complicated of all, particularly between a daughter of Zeus, a daughter of Ares and a son of Hermes. 

[nereidprinc3ss]

baby fever

in which reader and spencer discuss having a baby while at work

fluff warnings/tags: fem/AFAB!reader, bau!reader, BOYFRIEND!SPENCER or husband if u so desire, discussions of pregnancy/having a baby (obviously), reader wants a baby, so does spencer a/n: god i need him so badly. should i write follow up smut?? mwahaha evil emoji......

The coffee finished brewing minutes ago, but you’re still standing by the pot, watching Anderson’s daughter toddling around the bullpen on chubby legs. She’s not very adept at walking, but her spirit is indomitable—every time she tips a little too far forward, she catches herself and gets right back up. It’s not like she’s doing anything particularly impressive or even interesting, but you can’t take your eyes off her. Every movement makes your heart twinge, every giggle or curious quirk of her head is so adorable it physically hurts in your chest. 

From your peripheral vision you see Spencer approaching, bearing his own empty mug, but not even he can draw your attention away from the adorable little pixie and her tutu and her pigtails. 

“That is the cutest kid I have ever seen in my life,” you whisper to Spencer, hoping the quiet tone of your voice will help hide how much you feel like cooing and squealing. 

He smiles to himself as he pours his coffee. 

“That’s Rosie. Have you said hi yet?” 

“I’m afraid if I talk to her I’ll try to keep her.” 

“She is pretty adorable.” 

You turn to him as he leans next to you on the counter, sipping his coffee casually. 

“Adorable? Spencer. Puppies are adorable. You’re not understanding the magnitude of what I mean right now. I can’t explain to you how much adorable doesn’t cut it. I’m not kidding about the child abduction thing.” 

HIs eyes slide around the room as he chuckles into his mug. 

“Let’s maybe not joke about kidnapping a child in FBI headquarters.” 

“I’m not joking,” you hiss. “I feel like I’m going insane. I just—” 

At the last second you stop yourself, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“You just what?” Spencer asks, adjusting the hem of your shirt with his free hand. You glance down, watching the care he takes in the tiniest detail that you wouldn’t have given a second thought to. 

“Is something wrong with my shirt?” 

His eyes flick up to yours, hazel tinted with mild surprise. 

“No. It just was sliding up your waist a little bit.” As he says it, his knuckles brush the bare skin of your torso. You suppress a shiver, studying his profile once he pulls his hand away and goes for another sip. 

“Can we have one?” 

Your inopportune timing results in coffee dribbling down Spencer’s chin as he quickly attempts to wipe it away, wide eyes torn between you and trying to assess the mess he’s made. 

“You--you mean like a baby?” 

“Yeah, like a baby,” you say, grabbing his shoulders and squaring them to you before dabbing the coffee from his face and jacket. He watches on as you clean him up, completely still except for his wandering eyes. 

“I thought we were waiting on that.” 

“Waiting for what? A better time? There’s never going to be a good time with this job. And it’s not like we’d have to quit. Look at JJ. She has two and still does it.” 

“First of all,” Spencer begins, quickly recovering from your surprise proposition, “I don’t love the idea of either of us being in the field with you pregnant. And secondly, JJ also has Will and her mother to take care of the boys. We don’t have that. We’re both here all the time.” 

“I don’t care,” you groan, trashing the paper towels once you’ve done the best you can with his clothing. “We’d figure it out somehow!” 

“Mhm. It sounds like you’ve really devoted some careful consideration to this.” 

You drop your head to your shoulder, giving him your best puppy dog eyes and pulling lightly on his shirtsleeve. 

“Oh, come on. You haven’t thought about it at all? My perfect brain and your pretty face fusing to create a future Nobel-prize winner? Imagine how cute she would be, Spencer, we could put her hair in little braids and pigtails and we could dress her up and she could be in soccer and ballet and—” 

“She?” he smiles, studying your face intently. You roll your eyes. 

“Yes, she. Obviously we would have a girl. You—” 

The idea of Spencer as the father of your daughter hits you like a tidal wave, stopping you dead in your tracks. The images materialize in your mind’s eye so clearly, it’s like they’re already memories, so real and tangible you have no doubt it must come to fruition someday. But if before, your ranting was mostly a silly fantasy—now it’s become a bit more intense. 

He seems to sense your shift in mood. The big smile thaws slightly as he subtly grabs your hand on the counter. 

“What? What’s wrong?” 

There he goes again. Being kind. Being perfect. 

Tears sting your eyes, but you don’t let them fall.  

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I just... didn’t realize how badly I actually wanted that until I said it out loud.” 

The concern in his eyes softens to pure affection as he runs his thumb over the back of your hand. 

“I want it too. And whenever you decide you’re ready I’ll drop everything for you.” 

His words are like compounding pressure to the deep heat within you—forming something so solid and perfect you don’t have to wonder if it’s real. A ten on the Mohs scale, a concept that gets closer to actualizing by the minute.  

Your voice is quiet, revelatory as you admire the amber facets in his eyes. 

“You’re ready?”  

“I’ve been ready for quite some time,” he admits. And at once you feel the certainty of him paint your past and your future with one broad brushstroke. One day you will look back on your life and remember the time before Spencer, and that will be it. There is before Spencer, and with Spencer, but never an after Spencer. He wants to create something utterly permanent with you. “Come here.” 

He sets his mug down, carefully pulling you forward so you’re toe to toe with your back to the rest of the BAU; so that only he can see you. Despite how good the two of you are at avoiding PDA, occasionally an exception is made. He tenderly wipes away the few tears that have sprung from your waterline and accepts your arms around his waist, mirroring your embrace and completely enveloping you.  

“I love you,” he murmurs against the top of your hair, quiet enough that nobody in the office has a chance of hearing it. You sniffle. 

“I love you too. Also you smell really good.” 

He chuckles, hand roaming up and down your back for a moment. 

“And that is why we are holding off on this at least for a while.” 

“What do you mean?” you whisper indignantly as he gently peels you off him. His hands remain a steadying force on your waist as he smiles down at you beatifically. 

“I mean let’s give it two weeks and see if you still want a baby when you’re not ovulating.” 

[always-just-red]

hihihi! sylus girlie here. as a college student i often never take breaks whenever im working and often stay up late finishing up assignments. then i stress out but never tell anyone and suffer in silence:’) i was wondering if you could do something similar with sylus x mc where mc often forgets to take breaks at the hunters association and is always the first the volunteer for missions so she could improve.

but then it’s starting to take a toll on her and is so so stressed, but feels bad about venting to someone or saying no to new missions.

maybe one day she’s doing a simple task like cooking herself dinner (or something) but accidentally burns herself and she just ends up breaking down and decides to call sylus and he immediately goes to her. :’)

feel free to decline or change anything! i just like the thought of someone comforting u when ur overworked and stressed bc i wish someone would do that to me lol.

Fast-tracked this one for you, anon! I'm really sorry you're having a tough time right now, and I hope this brings you a bit of comfort- remember, Sylus would want you to take care of yourself! Good luck with all your studies, and feel free to send in another request if ever you need it! 🥰

Technical Difficulties

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: You're not very good at asking for help when you're struggling. Thankfully? You don't always need to.

Genre: fluff + comfort ft. a very domestic Sylus!

Warnings/Additional tags: stressed reader (has a lil bit of a breakdown!), some swearing, uses of 'kitten' and 'sweetie', Sylus is so soft here he should come with a health warning tbh

| Word count: 2.4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

In the event of a wanderer incursion where evacuation of citizens is obstructed or otherwise not viable, association protocol 32.3-A dictates that you should first… That you should first… What?

Your pen is poised above the blank space where your answer should be. 32.3-A is a general procedure: something to do moving people to the nearest shelter. Or, wait— are you supposed to try to contact support, first?

You drop your pen with a huff and flop face-down onto the mock exam. It’s too much. Too much information, too much responsibility. Open textbooks are spread over your desk and around your head like an unholy halo— stacks of them, filled with codes and procedures. They’re supposed to be helpful, but they’re not; they’re drowning you.

Your phone pings and you glance up. Text from Tara:

Hi! Hate to be a bother, but did you finish glancing over that practice question for me? xx

Shit. You’d completely forgotten. You straighten, reaching for your laptop so you can load up your latest emails. You’ve got time to look over it; the exam isn’t for another two days. Breathe, ok? You have time.

Seven unread emails. What? You scan over them frantically. Two from the Captain: accepting additional mission requests you’d applied for. Were those both this week? One from Nero: you hadn’t sent in that finished report. Three from your colleagues, all scrambling for help with the exam. One from Tara:

Thanks for saying you’d look over this for me! You’re the best at this stuff!

Ok, so: Tara’s practice question. Nero’s report. Your own practice questions. Then… dinner? Maybe that should come first. You’d skipped lunch— had one slice of toast for breakfast. But you don’t wanna cook; cooking takes time, and you’ve got none. None.

Your phone is ringing, snapping you back to reality, and you peek over at it. Sylus?

“Hi,” you greet as you put him on speaker. On your laptop, you’re opening up Tara’s attachment.

“Are you free tomorrow?”

Always straight to the point. “Uh… yeah?” you frown as you read through your friend’s work. “Why? What d’you need?”

Sylus sighs through the phone. “That was a test, sweetie. You failed.”

“Yeah, well…” you murmur, highlighting a sentence with your cursor. “Add it to the list.”

The man doesn’t find that funny. The phone is quiet— too quiet. “Are you alright?” he asks, just as your gaze wanders to check if the call has disconnected.

“Mmhmm.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Sylus.”

You stare down at your phone. He’s waiting for more, but you won’t give it to him. You’re one word away from slipping, and you can’t let the dam crumble, especially in front of him. He’s smiling from the phone call background: a photo he insisted would ‘ruin’ his image when you took it last week.  

“I need to go, ok?” Your eyes are shining.

“Ok,” he says softly.

There’s a bleep as the call cuts out, and the photo is gone. Waiting beneath it is another text from Tara, and one from Xavier: Nero told me to txt U bout a report??

You swallow the ache in your throat and slump down on your desk again.

…

You wake up with a start, your head ringing. The tangerine sky outside your window’s turned dark— your laptop, too— and light spills from your desk lamp, yellow on white pages. There’s more, and you turn, tracing it back to where it leaks through the crack of your almost closed bedroom door.

You hadn’t left any lights on in your flat. You hadn’t switched on your lamp, either.

Tiredness is dulling your thoughts and your senses, but you know you feel uneasy. There’s something in the air: smoky, but not unpleasant. You can hear something as well. No— two things. A faint, almost imperceptible hiss, and a more obvious humming.

Hunter instincts kick in. You roll open a drawer of your desk, snatching up one of your standard-issue pistols and removing its safety with a click. You stalk up to the door, your trained footsteps near silent. You take a deep breath, clearing your head. One. Two.

Three! You shoulder the door open, leaping through with your gun trained forwards.

At the other end of your sights, Sylus turns, an eyebrow raised. Your kitchen stove seethes behind him, and he gives you a once over as he sluggishly raises both hands. “You flatter me, kitten,” he smirks in surrender, looking between your weapon and his: a spatula.

You lower your gun, your heart still racing. “I could have killed you, Sylus!”

“That’s the spirit.” His hands drop, too.

“How did you even get in here?”

He’s turned back to the stove, and he’s using the spatula to push something around a frying pan. “Hmm…” he muses, then blink— he’s gone. He’s at your fridge a second later, materialising from thin air. “I wonder,” he finishes as he reaches around for something.

Show off. “You know how I feel about you telepor…” No. “Phas…” No. “Magic…king…?” By now he’s watching you over his shoulder. “You know— that thing you do.” You’re twinkling your fingers. “What do you even call that?”

“Magicking, yeah.”

You huff in response and he laughs, walking back over to where he’s cooking two steaks and preparing a salad. You’re still coming to terms with the fact he’s even here, looking... quite frankly ridiculous, because he’s wearing your apron. It’s too small for him. Baby pink. Frilly, too.

“You know how I feel about you magicking into my home,” you mutter distractedly, because actually? He’s kinda pulling it off. His sleeves are rolled up past his elbows, tight on his arms. “Use the door like a regular person, you psychopath.”  

“Where’s the fun in that?” He sounds smug. Ugh, he must feel your eyes on him; he must know. You think he’s toying with the idea of calling you out, but he doesn’t, and when he does speak, the smugness is gone. “Mephisto saw you were sleeping. I didn’t wish to disturb you. You sounded… tired. On the phone.”

Guilt twinges in your chest as you draw up beside him. “Is that why you’re here? Playing housewife?” You pick at a frill on the apron.

“Poke fun all you want,” he sneers. “This shirt costs more than your entire wardrobe.”

“Snob.”

“Ha.” You have to retract your hand as he threatens it with the spatula. “Watch yourself, sweetie. I’ll remember that the next time you ask to ‘borrow’ my card.”

You laugh gently. Now that’s a threat. You’re about to tell him so when you hear a ping from the other room, and your heart sinks. Just a single sound, and you’re back to where you were an hour ago, at your desk with the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Sylus hums in acknowledgment as you excuse yourself and hurry back to your workspace, snatching up your phone. You missed three calls while you sleeping: all from Xavier. He’s been texting you, too.

Nero’s yelling at me

Wants to talk to U

Can U pick up? Pls?

It’s one report, for gods’ sake. You feel your chest tightening again. You just needed to proofread it, but it’s probably fine, right? You wake your laptop out of standby; you’ll just send it as it is. “I’ll just be a minute, Sy,” you call out. “Need to finish one thing.”

He mumbles something in response, and you imagine it’s for the best you can’t hear it. Your keyboard clacks as you tap out a quick email to Nero, then you surf your files for the report he so desperately wanted. It should be… here. You attach it. Hit send.

Nothing happens.

Huh. You hit send again. Then again— still nothing. You groan, trying to back out of the email. None of your keys are working. Your cursor is stuck. “Oh, come on,” you release on an impatient breath. Switch it off, switch it on again? You hit the off button. The screen goes black.

With a sigh of relief, you wait a moment before switching it on again. The screen stays black.

“No, no, no, no,” you plead quietly, but it doesn’t cooperate. Your phone rings and you snap, hitting more buttons: Answer. Speaker. “What?” you hiss.

“Whoa. Hi…?” Xavier’s voice is cautious. “I don’t know if you saw my texts, but Nero—”

“The report, Xavier! I know! I know!” You try holding down your laptop’s power button. “I’m trying to send it, but my shitty computer won’t—”

“No way!” Tara’s voice comes in on the other line; did they both get the night shift? “Hey you! Did you get a chance to—”

“No, ok?!” you practically cry out. “No! Can you two just back off? Please!”

“Oh, sorry, I…” Tara sounds upset, then distracted. “Wait, Xavier wants to speak to you.”

“Are you ok?” he asks after a second.

Ok? You just want everything to stop. “I’m fine. Shit, tell Tara I’m sorry. I am sorry, Xavier, I just… I just need my laptop to…”

Work. Work! Nothing’s working. Half of your files are on there. How much of it is backed-up? Panic is setting in, gripping your body like ice. Your throat hurts and your mouth is dry, the dam is breaking and you can’t stop it. Tears prick at your eyes as you blink at the blank, hopeless screen. Your reflection stares back at you.

You let out a sob, expelling days of frustration and exhaustion. Everywhere you look there’s something you need to do, something you need to learn, something you need to finish. You can’t. You clasp a hand over your mouth, muffling your own cries.

Xavier is speaking— saying something over the phone— but you can’t hear him.

The light changes, and there’s a figure above you, lifting the phone from the desk. “They’ll call you back,” the shadow says. Sylus.

“Wait, who is this?” Xavier.

“That’s Skye!” Tara.

Your friends’ distant voices cut out as Sylus ends the call. He sets the phone down again, nudging your laptop out of view, then lowers himself until all you can see is him: his red eyes, softer than you’ve ever seen them. “Come on, sweetie,” he coaxes, guiding your hands over his shoulders.

You understand what he’s asking of you. His arms wrap around you and you hold him tighter, letting him lift you out of your chair. He feels warm, his skin ever so slightly flushed from where he’s been standing over the stove, and he pulls your legs around his waist, letting him carry you with ease.

With your face buried in his shoulder, you can’t tell where he’s taking you, and you don’t care. His shirt is going damp against your cheeks. You want to stop crying, but you can’t with the taste of your tears on your lips. You feel weak. You feel pathetic.

Something solid is behind you, and Sylus is setting you slowly down on the kitchen counter. He’s away from you for a moment— moving the frying pan off of the heat and turning a dial on the stove— but then he’s back, standing between your legs, standing close. You’re looking down until his hand is under your chin, lifting it with the delicate touch one employs when inspecting a flower that might break.

He shushes you without a hint of impatience. “Look at me,” he directs quietly, and when you do, he unrolls his shirtsleeves— drawing the cuffs over his hands so he can use them to wipe your eyes. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

You do— you tell him everything. The hunter’s exam. The textbooks. The extra patrols you’ve been signing up for. The work you’ve been doing for your friends. The stupid report. The even more stupid computer.

Sylus listens collectedly, nodding his head and issuing the odd hum of understanding. He listens to all of it, and when you’re done, he pushes your hair back from your face with a sympathetic sigh. “Oh, sweetie.” A tendril is tucked behind your ear. “You should have said something.”

“I know.” Your gaze is still shy of his. “But how can I? I need to do this— be this— for everyone.”

His hands are on your cheeks again, drawing back your focus. “You’re just one person,” he says. “You— just you— and that’s all you need to be. You’re stubborn, and strong, but you’re not invincible. Even Linkon’s shiniest hunter is allowed to have limits. Everyone does.”

“Even you?” you snivel, setting him up for a quip.  

Nothing. He smiles. Shrugs. “Even me.”

It’s hard to believe when he’s staring back at you, oh so solid, oh so perfect. Always a picture of strength: of fiery determination or calculated coolness. Everything in extremes; nothing by halves. Except… his hair is slightly dishevelled from where he’s been working away in the heat. There’s a damp patch on his shirt. He’s wearing your pink apron, and there’s mascara on his sleeves.

Then there’s the way he’s looking at you.

It shifts when you finally look back. He drops his hands from your face and pulls back a little. “You do a lot for your friends,” he continues with confidence, but he’s rubbing his neck, “and they care about you. You should afford them the chance to return the favour. It’s only fair.”

“You’re right.”

“…Good.”

Perhaps it’s the fact you’ve vaguely composed yourself— or the way you’re watching him like you’re seeing something new— but he straightens self-consciously, rolling his shirtsleeves back up as his eyes go sharp: assuming their usual severity.

“You’re too soft, kitten,” he scolds, reaching out to tousle your hair until you’re glaring daggers from behind a curtain of it. “How many times do I have to tell you? You put yourself first. Always. No-one else matters.”

There’s quiet for all of a second. He can’t help correcting: “Well, except me, of course.” The apron’s crooked, and he flattens it with a brush of his hands. “Any time spent with me qualifies as self-care. You really should know that by now, sweetie.”

Your mouth curls, but you haven’t quite got it in you to laugh— not yet. Stretching his neck with two sideways tips of his head, Sylus returns to his post at the oven, where the meal he’s cooking has almost certainly gone cold. You watch as the stove flickers back to life. The man is humming again, and though the food might yet be salvaged, whatever melody he’s attempting is long-past recognition, let alone saving.

You chuckle to yourself.

And you can’t see it, but Sylus is smiling, too.

[babeforjjmaybanks]

his heart, her wishlist ༘₊ ͟͟͞͞꒰➳

pairing: bestfriend!jj x girly!femreader 𝝑𝑒

summary: jj showers his bestfriend in gifts and affection, spoiling her and giving her whatever she wants. one peaceful afternoon she has a rather odd request, but she always gets what she wants.

warning(s): jj has some suggestive thoughts, making out, love bites, ear pulling, hand slapping, reader threatens to cry & is kind of sensitive, accidental lip biting, no smut!

mentions of: jayj, y/n, gorgeous, reader is called needy, babydoll, pretty girl, ma'am, princess & prince charming 𝝑𝑒

a/n: idk why but i'm a sucker for bestfriend!jj & I hope you are too!! enjoy & leave notes <3

word count: 1770

divider by: @h-aewo

the bell above the door jingled as they entered the boutique, she couldn’t help but grin as the familiar scent of fresh candles and polished wood filled the air. shopping with jj had become her favorite kind of outing, not just because he always made it fun, but because—let’s be honest—he never minded picking up the tab when she found something she liked.

“jayj,” she said, her voice light but full of excitement. “I’m running low on my favorite lotion," she slightly pouts. "can we stop by the beauty aisle?” she didn’t even look back, already making her way toward the shelves of creams and serums, practically skipping as she walked.

jj chuckled and followed her, his hands in his pockets. “y/n, you’ve got enough lotions to last until the end of the year,” he teased, but his tone was fond.

she glanced over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling. “I know, but the strawberry-scented one they have here are just so much better than the ones I have at home. plus, I deserve it, don’t you think?” she flashed him a playful grin, batting her eyelashes for extra effect.

jj smiled, unable to resist. “okay, okay,” he said, grabbing the bottle off the shelf and tossing it into her cart. “you’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”

she smiled sweetly, her fingers lightly tracing the top of the bottle. “you spoil me too much,” she said softly, her tone sincere. “but I can’t help it—you always know exactly what I need before I do.”

they wandered down another aisle, and she couldn’t resist eyeing a row of dainty jewelry. she picked up a gold bracelet and held it up to the light. “what do you think?” she asked, her voice a little quieter now. “I don’t need it, but I’d love to have something new to wear to the fro-yo shop later.”

jj gave a knowing smile, already picking it up and slipping it into her cart. “you’re impossible,” he said with a laugh, but his voice had a warmth to it. “but, of course, you can have it. It looks great on you.”

y/n’s cheeks flushed slightly as she beamed at him, her voice softening. “thank you, jayj. you’re really the best.”

he raised an eyebrow but his smile never wavered. “I know, I know. you say that every time I buy you something.”

she nudged him playfully, her hand brushing against his arm. “I mean it. I’m lucky to have a bestfriend like you.”

jj’s smile softened, and for a moment, they stood there, just enjoying the moment. maybe she was a little spoiled, but jj didn’t mind—he liked seeing her happy. after all, it wasn’t just about the things he bought for her. It was about the way she made everything feel just a little bit brighter.

she eyed the shelf with the latest scents, her eyes glistened at the vanilla cream puff perfume with the cutest bottle. jj, without missing a beat, grabbed it from the display and tossed it into her cart that he was carrying. “anything else, princess?"

"okay prince charming, how'd you know—" he placed a finger to her lips and shushed her, "I always know babydoll, it's the bestfriend senses." he used his free hand to tap his temple and winked at her. y/n, not amused, bit down on his finger. jj pretended to be hurt and was surprisingly a good actor, hearing him wince set off a tinge in y/n's heart.

"did I actually hurt you? I'm sorry jayj!" she grabbed his hand and kissed his finger, a blush spread across his face. "I— you didn't hurt me, sorry I was being dramatic, it's okay." he pulled her into a hug and embraced her tightly. her skin was warm and she smelled like fresh pastries.

"oh my gosh, I'm literally gonna cry you scared me!" she pouts and shoves him playfully. "I know I know, I won't do it again, pinky promise." he picked up the cart and grabbed her hand, interlocking their pinkys and not letting go as they walk over to the register.

"can't believe you're asking me for fro-yo when I know you’ve had two desserts already today?” jj teased her.

she put on her most innocent expression, her lips curling into a sweet, almost apologetic smile. “I’m just making sure I’m well-balanced. you know, fruit, yogurt… a little bit of indulgence. It’s all about moderation.”

jj couldn’t help but laugh, rolling his eyes. “you're silly, but fine. one stop at the fro-yo shop won’t kill me.”

she grinned, looping her arm through his as they made their way to the small fro-yo place down the street in the plaza. the familiar neon sign flickered ahead, and the sweet, tangy scent of frozen yogurt wafted through the air, making her stomach rumble.

once inside, she immediately headed for the counter, eyes wide as she scanned the flavor options. “I’m thinking rasberry and white chocolate cheesecake, with all the toppings. what do you think?”

“surprise me,” jj said, already reaching for his wallet. he had learned by now that when it came to his bestfriend, it was best to let her make the decisions. besides, he always enjoyed seeing her so happy, especially when it involved something as simple as frozen yogurt.

“got it,” she said, her tone light and teasing. “but I’ll probably add extra sprinkles and a few gummy bears for good measure.”

jj chuckled as she went to work on her fro-yo masterpiece, carefully layering the flavors and toppings in what could only be described as a work of art. as she finished, she looked at him with a mischievous grin. “well, don’t you think it’s perfect?”

“I think you have a serious sweet tooth,” he replied, but he was already ordering his own cup. “I’ll have the plain vanilla with some strawberries and a drizzle of chocolate syrup. please.”

y/n laughed and took a bite of her fro-yo, savoring the sweetness. “you really are the complete opposite of me, aren’t you?”

“you’re the fun one,” he said, giving her a playful smile. “I’m the boring one who just wants his yogurt without a bunch of candy on top.” even though they both knew he was far from boring, today was one of those days it was all about her.

she shrugged with a grin. “you say that, but you keep buying me things like candy, jewelry, and endless fro-yo. I think deep down, you like it.”

jj smirked, sitting down beside her at one of the small tables. “maybe,” he said, taking a spoonful of his yogurt. “but if you weren’t so fun to spoil, I wouldn’t do it so often.”

y/n's smile softened, her heart feeling a little warmer at his words. she sat back, letting the cool sweetness of the fro-yo take over, and for a moment, everything felt perfect her—and jj, enjoying their favorite treats, without a care in the world.

and though she knew she might be a little spoiled, she couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky to have someone like jj by her side.

jj on the other hand, completely forgot about the fro-yo. his eyes wandered around his bestfriends face, eyes focused on the way her lips wrapped around the pink plastic spoon. jj cursed himself for having such thoughts about his bestfriend, but he couldn't help it, she was so gorgeous.

"you're gorgeous, you know that?" jj didn't realize what he was saying until he actually heard himself saying it. "that was so random!" y/n laughs and playfully slaps his hand that was resting on the table. "ouch? I can't tell my bestfriend she's pretty?" he put a hand over his heart and shook his head. "of course you can but not while i'm eating fro-yo." she smiles at him, and he smiles back.

they always smile when they're together.

"alright pretty girl, time to get you home yeah?" jj said as he was opening the passenger side door for her.

she sat down in the seat comfortably, almost like it was made for her. which, actually, it was. jj made sure she had the comfiest seat, a head rest, and her name was even on it.

and nobody else was allowed to sit in it.

jj sat down in the drivers seat and turned on the car, watching as y/n connected her phone and started playing her favorite playlist. he lowered her window, watching as her eyes glistened under the street lights. he moved his hand to rest on her thigh, as he always does and of course y/n didn't have a problem with it. she let out a small giggle and placed her hand on top of his.

it didn't take long to arrive at her house, jj pulled into the driveway of the clean house, staring at the garden they were working on not too long ago that was bountiful with flowers and bushes.

"jayj?" she called his name out softly.

"ma'am?" he turned his head to look at her.

"I love you, you know that right?" she grabbed his hand and interlocked their fingers. "yeah I know, I love you too." he smiled at her and raised his eyebrow, "you need somethin?"

"well.." she paused and bit her lip nervously.

"what is it babydoll?" jj tightened his grip on her hand, his expression now a worried one. "can I.. get a kiss?"

jj swore his heart stopped beating, was he dreaming? did his bestfriend actually ask him to kiss her? he must've heard wrong.

"you want me to kiss you?" his voice was soft, but uncertain. she could only nod her head at him, visibly flustered. "okay, whatever you want."

he unbuckled his seat belt and leaned over, cupping her face gently and rubbing his thumb across her cheekbone. leaning in, he presses his soft lips against hers. he slowly pulled away, but something was keeping him there. telling him he might not ever get this opportunity again.

he pressed their lips together once more, this time sweet and passionate. her arms wrapped around his neck, getting lost in the heat of their bodies and the taste of fro-yo. maybe a little too lost.. because she accidentally bit him.

"shit— i'm sorry! oh my gosh i'm so embarrassed." y/n cupped her hand over her mouth mentally screaming at herself. but instead of being freaked out, he laughed. "someone got a little carried away huh?" she shoved him again as laughter filled the car.

"jayj, can you stay the night?"

"'course I can, whatever you want." 𝝑𝑒

[moonchild9350]

All for You

Summary: Your friend sets you up on a blind date in which you are unsure of attending. However the night takes a turn once you meet Hyunjin himself.

Pairing: Hyunjin x fab!reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, smut-18+MDNI

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: exhibitionism, fingering, clit play, nipple play, oral ex (m receiving), cum tasting, spanking, squirting, unprotected sex (don’t), creampie, multiple rounds, dirty talk

Notes: just Hyunjin being on my mind and wanting to write something with a lot of tension, plus there’s not a lot of blind dates so decided to change that hehe

If you enjoyed please consider a like, reblog, or comment as it keeps me motivated:)

Divider by @cafekitsune

Please do not copy, translate, modify, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©️moonchild9350

You were pacing the floor, wrapped up in your towel as you were fresh out of the shower. You were in a slight predicament, your face turning into a frown at the thought of it.

Your friend, Ashley, decided to set you up on a blind date tonight with Hyunjin, a mutual of hers, saying you needed to put yourself out there more. You were perfectly content at home, but she insisted and wouldn’t leave the topic alone so you eventually agreed.

She stopped by earlier to pick out your outfit, settling on a black leather dress and some heels. She tried to pick out your bra and pantie set, but you drew the line there, preferring to pick out your own intimates.

You opened your drawer, your fingers brushing against the lace that laid there. You touched each piece until you stopped on a lace, black thong. You picked up the garment and eyed the piece thinking ‘might as well go all out.’

Slipping in one leg, then the other, you pulled the thong up your legs, snapping the band in place. Grabbing your dress, you slid the outfit on, fixing the straps, your eyes set on how your breasts perched perfectly within the top, your cleavage peaking out from the deep cut.

You made sure every hair was in place, no makeup smudged, and then proceeded to put your heels on, delicate hands fastening the buckles against your ankle. You gathered your bag, making sure you had all the essentials.

Your eyes drifted to an envelope next to where your bag was, the white square taunting you. Your friend told you to take the item with you and not open it until the night was at a conclusion as there was a surprise inside.

Looking at the clock on your dresser, you saw it was time to head to the predetermined destination. You ordered a ride share and waited in your living room, your mind wandering how your date would go. You hoped he was good company and hopefully someone good to look at.

You didn’t have time to wait for long as your ride pulled up. You shut your door and took a breath, ready for whatever the night would bring.

— —

You had arrived at the venue, some fancy bar that your guest had picked out. You carefully took each step to the front door, pulling it open to step into the hallway.

Your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, painting the room beyond in a mysterious light. Couples and groups gathered intimately at tables, the heads together in soft chatter. There was soft jazz music playing over the speakers, adding to the intimacy of the atmosphere.

Scanning the room, looking for your date, your only indication on how he looks based on the description given by Ashley. As you slowly looked around, your eyes stopped at a man sitting in a corner by himself.

He was wearing a white shirt and blazer, and black pants. He was nursing a glass of amber liquid, his fingers softly tracing the rim of the glass. You smiled, happy so far with what you saw.

You walked his way, your heels softly click clacking along the tile until you stopped right in front of the table the man was at. Sensing your presence, the man looks up, his dark brown eyes drifting to your face. He takes you in, a gentle smile spreading on his face underneath the locks of wavy hair framing his face.

“Y/n?” The man asks with a knowing smirk.

“Hyunjin?” You reply, the name rolling off your tongue like silk.

“The one and only,” Hyunjin said, bringing his glass to his lips and taking a sip.

You sit down in the seat next to him, your elbow only a breath away from his arm. You place your bag on the table and then rest your head on your chin, your fingers dangling as you gaze at the man next to you.

He was very good on the eyes, nicely dressed, and seemed confident, the thought causing your heart to flutter within your chest and your pussy to clench. You couldn’t help but smile as his eyes kept drifting to your cleavage, his tongue darting out to lick his plush lips.

“So can I get you something?” Hyunjin asked, motioning to his glass.

“Mmm I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you purred, keeping your eyes on his.

Hyunjin smiled at your choice as he lifted his hand up to signal to the waiter. He pointed to his glass and then held up two fingers, the waiter nodding in acknowledgment.

Hyunjin entices you in conversation, the words that fall from his mouth smooth like honey, his voice making your feel dizzy in this dimly lit room. You find yourself enjoying his company, enjoying his banter, something you haven’t felt in a while.

Just as you listen to him, he listens to you. You talk about your interests, your job, and even how you met Ashley, his eyes on yours as he listens closely. He smiles and offers feedback, seeming genuinely interested in your boring life.

You feel your heart race, the incessant pounding loud in your ears, so loud you’re surprised Hyunjin can’t hear it. Every time he looks at you, you feel your core flutter, little droplets of your slick leaking out onto the strip of fabric covering your pussy.

You are interested in this man, you couldn’t believe it, your mind trying to catch up to the fact. You feel the heat rise to your face, painting your cheeks and neck in a rosy color, as Hyunjin scoots closer, so close you can feel his breath on your lips.

There’s static in the air as you breathe him in, the scent of some type of mint laced with the bourbon he’s been drinking all evening. You can see the imperfections on his face, the mole printed below his left eye, the slight dimple that forms as his mouth turns up in a slight smile.

Despite all of this, you can’t help but think he is absolute perfection, a god sent to you to change your whole world.

Hyunjin gazes at you with a sultry gaze, his eyes scanning your lips down to your cleavage and back to your eyes again. You feel a shiver down your spine as his arms brush against yours, his fingers reaching out to touch yours that are now resting on the table.

You lick your lips as your pussy clenches, your thighs tense, and your clit throbs, the ache growing incessantly within. You subconsciously scoot closer to him, wanting to be as close as possible. There is silence between you two, the chatter of those at the tables around you drowning out with each passing moment until it seems like it’s just you two in the dim room.

The candle flickers on the table, casting a soft glow over your hands, that have now found their way together. The tension is palpable, so thin you could cut it with a knife. You find Hyunjin leaning closer and closer to you, his lips slightly parted as he stares you down, his eyes searching yours with lust.

You brace yourself for the kiss, your eyes closing at the last second as you feel his hand gently on yours. You wait and wait just to snap your eyes open when nothing happens, Hyunjin eyeing the waiter walking over to ask if you needed anything.

Hyunjin clears his throat and leans away, slight annoyance on his face.

“We’re good thank you. May we get the check actually?”

The waiter nods and walks away, returning shortly with the bill. Hyunjin slaps down a shiny black credit card and hands it back to the waiter who graciously retreats to run the card.

Once Hyunjin is in possession of his card again, you pull out the envelope, deeming this moment as good as any to view its contents.

“Ashley gave this to me to open at the close of the night. So…wanna open it?”

Hyunjin eyes the white envelope than looks back at you.

“Why not.”

You nod and pick it up, your finger sliding under the lip of the seal. You break it open, holding your breath as you pull out the contents. A little slip of paper is there, some handwritten words present in what seems like Ashley’s writing.

You read aloud, “You have a room booked at Clarence hotel, have fun ;)”

You chuckled, showing Hyunjin what was written on the slip of paper. He smirked at the message, setting the card down on the table.

“Shall we then?” He smirked.

You giggled, grabbed your bag, stood up, and walked to the door. You couldn’t help but be aware of his hand on the small of your back, the heat of his palm transferring to your skin. You both decided to walk to the hotel as it was only a block away. The night air was crisp, the scent of promise lingering.

You both walked with hurried steps, the need to be alone together growing with every passing minute. Hyunjin grabbed your hand as you approached the doors of the hotel, pulling you through as they opened.

You approached the desk out of breath and laughing, startling the clerk behind the desk.

“Reservation for y/l/n,” you managed to get out in between giggles.

The clerk searched through the computer before smiling, finding your reservation.

“Here’s your key, everything else has been taken care of,” the clerked said.

You raised your eyebrow, surprised that your friend took care of the logistics. You reached for the key, thanking the clerk before taking off towards the elevators. You pressed the button, willing the it to arrive soon.

Your skin was burning, the heat radiating off your skin as you waited for the car, Hyunjin standing so close to you, you could feel his breath against your neck. Your breath hitched as you felt his fingertips graze your waist, sending shocks of pleasure down into your core.

You thanked your lucky stars as the elevator dinged, the metal doors opening up. You pulled Hyunjin within the car and pressed the number four, the doors closing shortly thereafter. Hyunjin had his arms fully wrapped around your waist now, his nose skimming the strands of your hair and down to your ear.

You felt his soft lips brush against the back of your neck, as he pressed lazy kisses along your skin, causing your pussy to clench, as more arousal slowly trickled out. Time seemed to stand still as you stood in the elevator, Hyunjin’s lips attached to you as the numbers slowly ticked up as the elevator took you to your floor.

You rested your hands on his, titling your head to give him better access to your neck. Hyunjin buried his head immediately within the crook of your neck, his hair falling onto your shoulders obscuring his face as he bit the skin there. You let out a soft moan, jolts of pleasure traveling straight to your core, Hyunjin chuckling at your reaction.

You heard Hyunjin groan as the elevator dinged once more signaling you had arrived at your floor causing you to chuckle at his disappointment. He disentangled from you as you both walked down the hallway, your eyes scanning the wall for your room number.

Once there, you looked at Hyunjin before scanning your key, the key holder turning green to allow you in. Swinging open the door, you both stepped in, turning on the lights of the grand room.

You took in the bed, nicely made against the wall, to the little sitting area on the opposite wall.

However, what caught your eye was a large window at the other end of the room, the expanse of the city on display. You hurried over, your eyes watching the nightlife, seeing the various people walk by on their way to their destinations.

You gasped as you felt Hyunjin come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, his lips immediately attaching to your neck. You sighed as he pressed kiss after kiss along your skin, savoring the slowness of the moment.

As he continued to pepper you with kisses, his hands traveled up to fondle and squeeze your breasts over your dress causing you to moan out. He chuckled against your skin, pressing a kiss there before lifting his head.

“I can see your reflection love,” he said in a deep tone, his eyes trained on you in the reflection of the glass.

You pressed your thighs together at the implications, as you looked straight ahead at Hyunjin. You watched as he lowered the straps of your dress, the flimsy string falling immediately to rest on your arms, revealing more of your breasts.

Hyunjin lowered the fabric over the flesh, his eyes glued to your reflection. He cupped your breasts, his fingers brushing over and playing with your nipples, the nubs slowly hardening at his touch. You let out a moan at he pinched them, sending a shockwave of pleasure straight to your pussy.

“You look so beautiful love, letting me touch you where anyone can see.” Hyunjin teased as he continued to play with your breasts.

You mewled at the dirty talk, the thought of someone watching you through the windows causing you to brush your ass against his pelvis, his bulge pressing against your ass.

“But by the looks of it, you want others to see hmm,” he said in a low voice. “Let’s give them a show.”

His hand slid down your dress, his fingers running over the expanse of your tummy until they slipped under the fabric and going straight to your panties. You moaned as he pressed against the wet fabric, sliding his finger through your folds.

“So wet for me…what if we just…” Hyunjin trailed off as he moved your panties to the side, his fingers touching you directly.

“Hyunjin, ah!” You moaned out as he fingered you, the digits dipping into your dripping hole before coming up to circle your clit.

With the aid of your slick, his fingers slid across the bud, his hand hot against your pelvis holding you to him. You whined at the throbbing of your clit and the pad of his fingers tweaking it, little jolts of pleasure traveling through your core as he switched speeds.

You could hear just how wet you were for him, the sounds only increasing as another gush of slick dripped out onto his hands. Hyunjin brought his other hand to your breast, a smile on his face as he toyed with your nipple, coaxing out steady moans from you.

“Shit! Hyunjin, please!” You begged, the coil within your core expanding with each slide of his fingers on your clit and tug on your nipples.

“Are you gonna come for me, a person you just met? Come all over my fingers?” Hyunjin said, his voice sultry and sweet in your ear.

“Yes, yes, please let me cum,” you whined, subtly thrusting your hips against his hand as you barreled toward your orgasm.

Hyunjin chuckled, increasing the pace of his administrations as he pressed wet kisses along your shoulder.

“Come for me,” he commanded, the band snapping as you released all over his fingers, your walls contracting with the intensity of your orgasm.

Hyunjin continued to rub your clit, helping you ride out your high as you thrashed against him, your knees buckling at the sensation.

You tried to catch your breath as you looked at your reflection, just making out your fucked out face.

You braced your hands on the window as Hyunjin slowly bent your over, the palm of his hand sliding up your spine and then coming down to slap your ass. You jolted at the sudden pain, but soon let out a groan as the sensation turned to pleasure. He spanked your ass a few more times before sliding your dress down, the fabric pooling at your feet.

You heard the rustling of fabric, watching as he popped open each button of his shirt, revealing his chest. You waited in anticipation as you heard his zipper, the slide of the metal along the track teasing in the moment.

Hyunjin stepped out his pants and boxers, kicking them to the side as he parted your legs more. Gripping his cock, he brushed the head through your folds before sinking into your entrance, his moans filling the room at the feel of your walls stretching to accommodate him.

You whimpered as he didn’t give you time to adjust, but instead began to thrust his hips into yours, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing in the room. You were loud, your breath from your moans fogging up the glass as Hyunjin fucked you fast and hard.

Your gaze was straight ahead, your fingers splayed across the glass as you took in the scene before you. You clenched your pussy around his cock, a gush of arousal dripping from your hole as the thought of someone watching Hyunjin fuck you.

You were close to coming again, the band winding up within your belly once more. Hyunjin groaned as your walls clenched over him, sucking him in with each thrust.

His eyes roamed to the window as he watched your breasts bounce as he fucked you, the look of pleasure on your face. He quickly looked down at where you were taking him, his cock twitching as he watched your ass jiggle as his pelvis collided with the flesh with each stroke.

He pushed you back, bending you over more as he brought a hand down, slapping your ass again and again until the skin turned a pretty shade of pink.

“Shit, this pussy y/n, just taking me,” Hyunjin groaned.

You moaned at his words, a warm sensation slowly expanding with each passing moment as he continued to pummel into you. The throb within your core became too much as you squirted around him, your arousal dripping down your legs and onto the floor.

You thrashed in his hold, your legs threatening to give out, that is until he held you up, your back flush against his chest.

“Fuck, fuck fuck! Gonna cum, gonna fill you up!” Hyunjin groaned, his hold on you tightening as he came, rope after rope of his hot cum filling up your walls, the pearly liquid seeping out of your hole slowly.

You whined as he pressed a kiss to your cheek and withdrew his cock. You straightened up, shivering as more of both of your release dripped from your hole, watching as he walked away until he reached the bed, the sound of the boxspring creaking as he lowered himself onto it.

“Come here love,” Hyunjin cooed, beckoning you to come over.

You walked over to him and climbed onto the bed, kneeling in front of him.

Hyunjin gripped his softened cock, presenting it to you, glistening in your arousal. He cocked his eyebrows as he waited for you to get closer as your eyes traveled to his cock.

You grabbed him by the base and bent down, wrapping your lips around the head, moaning at the taste of your cum and his. You began to bob your head, taking each inch of his cock to get him nice and hard once more.

Hyunjin laid his head back and moaned, his hips slightly bucking up into you, his now slightly hardened cock kissing the back of your throat. You hollowed your cheeks and sucked, your other hand coming up to fondle his balls, that were hot and heavy in your palms.

You continued to suck him off until he gripped your hair, pulling you off his cock.

“Come, sit love,” he said, his cock standing erect against his belly.

You shuffled closer, gripped his member, and lifted your hips up, bringing the tip to your entrance. Slowly, you slid down his cock, letting out shaky moans as you descended. Once you bottomed out, you paused, your pussy clenching around his length, causing him to groan.

You braced yourself and bounced on his cock, little cries falling from your lips at the new angle. You reveled in the feel of his cock dragging against your walls, your slick making the glide easier.

Your breasts bounced with each thrust until Hyunjin reached out and cupped them as his mouth wrapped around a nipple. He licked and sucked the buds, alternating between the two as you rode him, your ass slapping against his legs as you came down.

You panted as you begun to swivel your hips, the new motion catching your clit just right. Moaning you leaned forward shoving your breasts further in Hyunjin’s face, who let out a moan as he continued to suck your nipples.

“Mm close Hyun,” you said, letting out a cry as you felt your orgasm build for the third time that night.

You didn’t slow down your hips, instead increased your pace as you chased your high. Hyunjin let go of your breasts with a pop and gripped your ass, helping you rock against him.

“Come on y/n, love, give it to me, come on my cock again.”

Between the feel of his cock within you, hitting your spot just right, and his dirty talk, you let go, your orgasm traveling through your core, your pussy spasming around him. You shook on top of him, your toes curled at the pleasure, as you cried at the intense feeling.

Hyunjin smiled, and began to snap his hips up into yours, causing you to scream out as you rode out your high. He didn’t stop until he let out a loud moan, as he came within you again.

“So good love, so good,” he breathed as he finished filling you up, his arms reaching out to catch you as you collapsed on his chest.

You laid there for a moment before Hyunjin laid you on your back, his cock slipping from your pussy causing you to wince.

“I’ll be back love,” Hyunjin said softly as he got up to go to the bathroom to warm up a towel.

He gently cleaned you up, making sure to be extra gentle around your pussy. You sighed at the feeling of the warm towel on your skin, the temperature soothing.

Once done, Hyunjin cleaned himself up and then slid under the covers with you.

“Y/n,” he said after a moment of silence.

“Mmm,” you whispered, barely being able to talk.

“Go on another date with me?” He asked, his fingers drawing patterns on your back. “I’ll give you the world, it’ll be all for you.”

You consider his request, your mind reeling at how this blind date turned out. You’d have to remember to thank you friend whenever you saw here next, that’s for sure. The answer was pretty obvious, and it wouldn’t change, not today and not tomorrow when you wake still in his arms.

“Sure, I’ll go on another date with you.”

And you meant it to, every word.

Tag list: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght