#yes he was a bad guy at the beginning but it was nice to see him change

[fujii-draws]

OKAY! Chatot rant in tags below! Read at your own discretion.

[crossbackpoke-check]

Sat politely ankles crossed hands folded please say you have more thoughts about the DC deweys. Lazarus pit cold-eyed stare pristine and bloodthirsty anyway I would love to hear any further thoughts if you have the time + energy + motivation

how i imagine you waiting for me to re-read the resurrection of ra’s al-ghul and hush vol. 1+2:

ALRIGHT. in no particular order, thoughts about the dc deweys

connor fits very well into the mold of a talia al-ghul for me; chip on his shoulder, femme fatale, deadly and precise. he’s not the loudest but he’s got a dry wit that’ll cut you!

“why is connor an al-ghul at all and not batman” well first of all he’s already got the water connection, i’m gonna go dip him into the lake a couple hours north of the pas to make him incredibly long-lived, rejuvenated and beautiful

second of all i want him to be a questionable villain/antihero because he looks evil in those pictures but like beautiful evil. you see him at a multi-million dollar soirée and he’s bored of being there wearing his “heritage” beads and jewels he originally had from a thousand years ago. he and his assassins are only here to murder the head of state who’s planning to lay a pipeline through ancestral grounds

rip brandon duhaime i simply cannot imagine you as any kind of batman. lacks the gravitas, too much of a yapper, loves his wife too much. i curse thee to be green arrow if you’re in this narrative at all

assuming connor stays with toronto, would LOVE to think about toronto as one of the sites of the lazarus pit for many reasons

(a brief aside here to say that for me personally this is interesting if connor goes to winnipeg because i think they suit him better, he’s a manitoba boy, but re: the chip on his shoulder, he’s NOT a manitoba boy. he’s from the pas and very proud of it)

a) the amount of ‘toronto is the center of the universe’ hockey creation myths i can play with & birth/rebirth/reincarnation. if you WANT to feel unhinged trying to blend hockey and comics is an ice rink not just a pool of water?

b) mr. cathal kelly i love your works!!! toronto eats its young!!! thinking about this very literally in the sense of the resurrection arc where players come to toronto and are sacrificed, give up their body, their skill, in service of the demon’s head, and lose themselves.

c) we see echos of the same narratives and styles over and over again—if i can hop over to the flyers for a second, there is of course the curse of the *8s (18 richards, 28 claude, 48 danny b, 68 nolan, 88 lindros) but ALSO the danny brière -> tk -> morgan frost celly chain. every generation a resurrection, emerging clean and new from the pit

can you just briefly hold my hand and imagine wayne gretzky as an evil ra’s al-ghul wanting to possess a new body. gretzky i’m sorry to malign you and i know you never played in toronto but you are the best player in my head to fit the idea, i’m open to other suggestions

coming BACK to green arrow dewey (i did not re-watch arrow or re-read those comics sorry) connor could also be black canary, who takes a brief dip into the lazarus pit (toronto) before getting married to oliver. i do like that narrative but because we were talking about pristine and cold-blooded i figured connor dewar head of the league of assassins was more what you were after

now that i’ve gotten through world building… choose your own adventure narratives?

hockey-ish au: connor chosen as a host for the Next One. i think the lineage of the great one -> next one -> next next one -> next one up of gretzky -> crosby -> mcdavid -> bedard is taken, BUT i can imagine that the league of old boys all have the same intentions. connor gets sent to toronto unknowingly being prepped to get body-snatched by ???? and brandon duhaime of course accidentally stumbles on the plot and they have to fight to stop it

connor assassinating people :) snapshot of the head of the league of assassins delegating which major world events they’re going to change today. would love his shark face from the gifset to have blood spattered across it, ideally.

version 1 as head of the league of assassins: brandon is one of his assassins, big strong bodyguard type. devoted to him, would lay down his life, perfectly designed for connor (lady shiva/cassandra cain-ish). connor orders for something to be done and brandon does it there for him then gently wipes the blood off his face and apologizes for being careless and getting him messy.

version 2 as head of the league of assassins: an actual plot where connor aims to assassinate SOMEONE but brandon gets in the way. they meet at odds as their respective roles (hero, leader of a crime syndicate) but are magnetically drawn together as their alter egos. eventually brandon puts together the pieces of the Big Evil and manages to (legally!-ish as much as vigilante-ism can be legal) take it down and the ending panels show a tentative friendship and recognition of potential shared goals

also, jaromir jágr is immortal. don’t know if this is relevant OR related but he is. personal hot spring lazarus pit?

um. thanks for coming to my 1.5k ted talk (including tags). what a way to moritz seider lore drop that i DID grow up a comic book nerd, lmao. thank you so much for enabling me <3 i'll be here all week thinking about which teams would get what rings in a blackest night au

[hadersversion]

but daddy i love him!

“no, i’m not coming to my senses. i know he’s crazy but he’s the one i want.”

pairing: rafe cameron x innocent kook!reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: smut, minors dni!!! dry humping & fingering. corruption kink of sorts (rafe and an innocent reader has taken over me fully i apologize). parental violence/verbal abuse. fighting. rafe showing his true colors but quickly hiding it from the reader because rafe is a big softie for them. pet names (sweetheart, honey, darling, baby, pretty/good girl). aftercare. let me know if i miss any!

mood board!

rafe cameron was bad news.

anyone in the outer banks could tell you that.

he was a fighter, a shit-talker, a guy who you couldn’t trust.

but there was something so intriguing about him that you just couldn’t turn away.

from the day you moved to island almost 10 years ago, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind. you would see him at parties, the country club, when you would hang out with his sister, around town on his motorbike with his buddies. but you had to push that crush deep down because no one in their right mind would go after that boy.

except you.

you stretched yourself on the court, waiting for your dad to come out with drinks before your tennis match. that’s when you saw him and his friends making their way to the locker room. they had just got done their round of golf, you could tell by their bags. you tried not to stare, but your eyes seemed to have a mind of their own.

“hey, y/n.” you heard him call, with a smirk painted across his face.

your face blushed and you waved to him. “hey rafe.” play it cool, play it cool.

you can see him look you up and down, staring at your legs. “nice skirt.”

you looked down at the new, white tennis skirt your dad had bought you for your report card. your fingers found a loose thread, beginning to toy with it to deal with the embarrassment you felt. “t-thanks.”

he nods before looking behind you. “mr. y/l/n.” he nods with a quick wave. you turn around to see your dad with two waters and a stern look on his face. “enjoy your game.” he says before going inside.

your dad stands over you as you sit, handing a water bottle over. “that cameron boy…” he lets out a deep sigh.

“what?” you question, getting up and brushing your legs off.

your dad pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. “he’s not the kind of guy you want to be friends with, sweetie. he’s a bad seed.”

“but how do you know that?” you question, trying not to sound too suspicious.

your dad picks up his racket and makes his way over to his side of the net. “i know ward cameron. and i know how rafe is just like his dad, thinks he can get anything he wants. thinks there is no consequences to life. but there is. there always is.” your dad shakes his head. “i saw him beating up some kid here not that long ago. sure, he was a pogue but doesn’t give rafe the right to walk around like the king of the outer banks. but until someone stops him, humbles him, things’ll never change.”

you stand there, uncomfortable. all you wanted to do was defend rafe, though you weren’t close like that. but your dad is a one way street. it’s his way or no way. so all you can do is nod. “oh…okay.” you say simply, getting ready for the match.

“just promise me you won’t get mixed up with the likes of that boy, please?” your father looks sincere.

you bite your lip and look down at your clean, white shoes. “yes sir.”

“good, now watch me beat you in tennis.” he says with a laugh. i fake a smile, getting on with the game, but still have rafe in the back of my mind.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

you didn’t see rafe again until the night of a house party at topper’s house.

your friends and you walk in, buzzed from the pre-game. they immediately all go their separate ways, looking for drinks, boys, or both. this leaves you standing awkwardly by a table, talking to some people from school. they talk about prom, their grades, and teachers, making you mentally check out from the conversation. that’s when he catches your eye, he is talking to topper and kelce with a red solo cup in his hand. you watch his every move, how big and veiny his hands are, practically cover the entire cup. how he constantly pushes his hair back while he talks, almost seeming like a force of habit he has. he also licks his lips a lot, sending a very graphic image of rafe between your le-

he looks up, meeting your gaze. a blush forms on your face as you try to hide your embarrassment but taking a sip of alcohol from your cup. you give yourself some time, staring into the cup before looking up again. but when you look at him, he hasn’t stopped staring at you. the blush you fought so hard to keep away makes your face feel like it’s on fire.

you watch as he excuses himself and makes his way over to you. this has to be a dream? or some prank, right?

“hey there, y/n.” he snaps you out of your spiraling thoughts. every person who you are talking to looks over to rafe then back at you. “didn’t know you were coming.”

you awkwardly shrug. “last minute choice by my friends.”

his eyes burn holes into your body as he looks you up and down. “well, i’m glad you’re here.” you nod at him, offering a shy smile. “looks like you need another drink, come inside and i’ll get you one.” he nods his head towards the kitchen door. the group you're with is watching this conversation like it’s a TV show. you make my way through them and stand next to him. he automatically puts his hand on your back and leads you inside. the feeling of his touch sends chills down your spine but it almost feels like his hand is meant to be there. like his touch is the missing piece in your life.

you get into the kitchen and he heads towards the fridge, grabbing juice and handing it over. “you strike me as a vodka and juice, girl.” he says with a smile, making my insides melt.

“and what makes you say that?” you ask, putting your hand on my hip, playing into his little game of flirting.

“well, you’re sweet and you seem to play it safe. you don’t really drink a lot but when you do, you’re never blacked out.” he admits with a laugh, giving his diagnosis. “juice is sweet and vodka is the safest way to get a little drunk, in my opinion.” he stares at your face, waiting for a response.

“you’re good, rafe cameron. a little too good.” you admit, grabbing the juice and filling up the cup. he stands over you, giving me the vodka next. “didn’t know i was that easy to read.”

“you’re not.” he admits, staring down at you while you drink. “i just think i have a special interest in you.”

you freeze in place, there’s no way he’s admitting this to you. right now. the boy you’ve been pining after since the first grade. you can tell you're shutting down but you need to play it cool. “oh really?” you look up at his blue eyes, getting lost in them instantaneously.

“really.” he steps closer, inches away from my face. you know you are not that drunk but your head feels like it’s spinning under his gaze. he leans in a little closer, your noses brushing, when the kitchen door slams and topper can be seen stumbling in. his obnoxious laugh fills the room, making rafe close his eyes and sigh. “what could you possibly want right now?”

topper laughs and comes up beside rafe, he’s clearly fucked up. “i’m just looking for some weed, man.” he hits his chest playfully. “don’t let me get in your way.”

rafe pushes him away, making topper laugh harder at us. he looks at you before speaking. “sorry for being a cockblock.”

rafe narrows his eyes at him. “just get the fuck outta here, top.”

topper staggers into the other room, still laughing.

“sorry about him. when he drinks, he becomes an asshole.” he says, running a hand across his face.

“is he drunk all the time?” i ask with a new found confidence in my voice.

rafe looks at me and laughs. “seems to be.”

you both stand in silence, not moving away from each other but unable to bring the moment back.

“i like you.” he admits.

you stare at him, unable to speak. “w-what?”

“i think you heard me, y/n.” he smiles cockily, looking into your eyes.

you look back at him. “you barely know me, rafe.”

“doesn’t mean i can’t like you.” he sips his cup and nudges your shoulder with his. “i think you could say the same about me.” he gets closer, whispering into your ear. “don’t think i don’t notice how you stare at me when i’m around.”

you feel the air leave your body and you bite your lip. you feel like your cornered and have nowhere to go. “i-i-uh…”

he brushes his finger against your lip, almost like he’s shushing you. but you can’t even fight the way your body reacts to his touch. “it’s okay, honey. i like it. i like it a lot.” he says in a whisper, almost making you forget you aren’t the only two people in the world. it feels like you can read his mind just by looking into his blue eyes. he wants you…screw that, rafe cameron needs you. and you need him. forget what your father says, or the town, or even your friends. this seems to be all you need.

how am i ever going to recover from this? you thought to yourself.

you hear your friend call your name from outside. rafe looks over as they yell from outside. “i’ll see you around, how’s that sound?” you look at him, unable to think when he looks at you like this. his hand brushes against your face before walking back out into the party.

you stand there, still as your friend comes in. “you alright? looks like you seen a ghost or something.” she asks you, laughing a bit.

“all good.” was all you can get out, staring straight ahead at the door rafe just left in.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

ever since the party, rafe found little ways to be around you.

whether it was joining you at the country club while you played tennis or hanging around you when he saw you at the beach reading. he even started knocking on the front door of your mansion to just talk on your porch, something you had to hide from your dad. with these interactions, you had no idea what everyone was warning you about with him. he was one of the sweetest guys you ever met. for weeks, you and rafe had begun a nice friendship.

but the almost kiss at topper's party was never spoken of again.

the two of you sat on your porch swing, the air was warm as summer was slowly approaching. your legs laid flatly across rafe’s lap, looking directly at him. you poured a glass of lemonade for you both, sparking rafe to hit you with a “you sure you don’t want some vodka in this?”

when you’re with rafe, the conversations seem to just flow like you are the oldest of friends. you could talk about anything and nothing at the same time. he went on for the past five minutes about how he used to love playing lacrosse but one injury affected his whole career for him.

“it sucked, ya know? i never felt like i belonged anywhere, or had a close bond with anyone like i did on that team. then one fucking torn acl later and it’s all gone for me. i had college scouts looking at me and everything. i could’ve escaped this place and lived the real college experience.” he looked out into the water that faced your house. he turned to you and smiled awkwardly. “jeez, i’m sorry i just don’t shut up.”

you chuckle at him, loving how he put some of his walls down around you. “it’s okay, i like hearing ya talk. it’s soothing.” you smile innocently at him.

he gazes into your eyes and nods, his expression softening. “really?” you nod and he just stares at you. “you’re one of a kind, ya know?” his fingers start to rub innocent circles on your leg.

“and why’s that?” you ask him.

“i-i don’t know, i feel like i can be myself around you.” he admits. “don’t ever quote me on that because i’ll deny that shit.” he points, gaining a laugh from you.

“don’t want anyone to know rafe cameron can be a softie?” you tease him.

“shut up, i’m not a softie.”

“i think you can be behind close doors.” you say.

he stops rubbing your leg and turns to you. “oh shut up.”

“well, you’re gonna have to make me then.” you say without thinking.

rafe looks at you with a fire in his eyes that you haven’t seen since the party. “what was that?” he cocks his eyebrow at you.

you just stare into his eyes, straightening your shoulders back. a confidence striking you like never before. “i think you heard me, rafe.”

without missing a beat, rafe connects your lips. all of that pent-up tension, gone within that very second. his hands found his way to your face, cupping it ever so lightly like you were a delicate flower he was so lucky to have found. his hands slowly slid down your body, like he was trying to memorize every inch of your skin. "jesus, this is all i've been thinking about." he said breaking away, looking into your eyes.

"then, don't stop." you say breathlessly, climbing on top of his lap, kissing him again.

you can tell this move took rafe by surprise as he let out a soft moan in the kiss. the innocence he once thought you possessed was now all gone. you slowly began grinding yourself against rafe's clothed cock, which was slightly hardening. "fuck, who knew you had it in you, honey." he said as he kissed down your jaw. you never felt so needier in your life chasing a high with rafe that you thought you could only dream about.

your face blushed as you looked down at rafe who was staring up at you like you were a painting held high in the louvre. the more you looked down, the more self-conscious you became. your pace which was rapidly increasing started to falter. "hey, hey, sweetheart. don't stop now. what's wrong? talk to me." he caressed your face so lovingly.

you bit your lip and closed your eyes, still out of breathe. "i-i-i don't know. what if i'm doing this wrong? or it's weird for you? i'm just nervous, i never did this before."

"did what, sweetheart? dry humped?" he almost laughed, pushing hair out of your face.

you shrugged. "well yes and no..." your voice started to trail off.

"yes and no?" rafe stared at you with a puzzled expression, trying to crack the code. you watched as he deciphered your words and the gears started to turn. "y/n, have you ever been with someone like...sexually before?"

you wanted to cry, the embarrassment being too hard to handle. you just laid your head against rafe's chest and sighed. "please, don't think of me any differently. i just...i just haven't found the right person to do all this with, ya know? i used to be scared but with you...i don't know, i feel ready." rafe sat there in silence, his hands falling to your waist and gripping them. you break away from his chest and stare into his eyes, which have seemed to darken. "rafe?"

"you trust me?" he asks simply. you nod shyly, causing his breath to hitch. you can feel his pants grow tighter under you. "i want you to keep going, do you hear me? don't stop until you cum on my pants." it sounds like he is giving you orders. he brings his thumb across your lip and gives a menacing smirk. "you wanna be all mine, huh? you pretty girl. show me your mine."

with his reassurance, you pick up you begin to rub yourself against his pants. your hands grip his shoulders as he holds you down on him. "good girl, keep it going." the material of his jeans feel rough against your clothed cunt but it adds a sensation you have never felt before. "shit, look at how pretty you look on me. can't wait to bury my cock inside you. would you like that? my cock being so far inside you, you can feel it in your stomach?"

you let out a pathetic whine, your head falling back from the pleasure you have building up inside. "y-yes."

"good girl, but we gotta start with the basics, right?" his hands start to trail up your body, stopping at your closed breasts. he cups them with his hands and smiles when you cry his name. "i got you, baby. c'mon, you know you wanna cum."

you quickly grind against him, feeling desperate as you chase your high. with his words of praise and reassurance, you can feel yourself ready to release. with one quick movement, you feel the tension building up in your stomach release as you cum on rafe. tears prick your eyes as you repeat his name over and over again. "rafe, rafe, rafe."

he stares at you in awe as you finish on him. the sight of your teary eyes and his name falling from your lips in such a needy way pushed him over the edge. he found himself cumming in his pants like he was a high schooler all over again.

you both stayed there, out of breathe, not moving once. you felt like a whole new person even though barely anything has changed.

"you alright?" he asks, pushing hair away from your face.

you tiredly nod, not knowing how to form words. your hooded eyes just take in the view of rafe, his face read and sweaty with a cocky smirk painted across it.

he bites his lip and kisses you gently. "there's more where that came from, you know?" he says and your head reels. "i've been waiting for so long to have you to myself, sweetheart. i don't plan on letting go now."

you giggle into his chest and nod. "don't gotta worry about me leaving, trust me. i've never felt so good in my life." the sweet yet sensual moment you two shared came to a halt when you heard your dad's truck pulling up the gravel road to your house. "shit." you quickly climb off rafe, trying to compose yourself.

your father quickly exited the truck, slamming the door behind him. he seemed to race up to the two of you as you sat there. rafe's hand protectively went over yours as your father approached. "the hell is he doing here?" he fumes.

"d-dad, we're just hanging out." you lie to his face.

"yes sir, that's all we were doing." rafe says camly, looking at him in the eyes.

your father head snaps towards rafe. "was i talking to you, boy? no. stay outta it." his attention focuses back to you. "i told you to not mess with the likings of this boy and what do you do behind my back?" he screams at you. "you go around with this...this hooligan! i want him off my property now. acting like some easy girl, i raised you better."

"b-but, daddy." you pout, trying not to cry as rafe squeezes your hand.

"sir, you're being too hard on her. it's not her fault." rafe tries to calm him down.

your father's finger rests on rafe's chest as he gets close to his face. "oh i know that, rafe. it's you and your typical bullshit. my daughter wouldn't act this way if it wasn't for you. look at you, you're probably using her."

rafe's fists clenched as your father talks down to him, no one does this to him and gets away with it. "sir, i suggest you put that finger down."

"or what?" your father snickers in his face.

rafe's whole demeanor shifts, the sweet boy you were just talking to now gone. like he was never even there. it honestly scared you how fast rafe can change personalities. "you don't even want to know." he grits his teeth. you hate to admit the affect this took on your body, clenching your legs together.

your father drops his finger and turns to you. "inside, now." he says, grabbing your arm. before you can fight him off, he's dragging you away from rafe.

"it's okay, baby, we'll figure this out." he reassures as you are being brought into your house. "fuck!" he screams as soon as the door slams shut.

you watch as rafe makes his way to his truck, slamming the door shut and driving away. you turn to your father who just stares at you as you cry. "screw you!" you say before running upstairs and locking yourself in your room.

you finally had him and now you lost him.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

the days past since you saw rafe.

your father grounded you and cut you off from the outside world.

you sat by your window and waited, having some false hope that rafe would be your knight in shining armor and take you away from this place. your father pulled up the driveway and seemed to struggle getting out of his truck.

you met him at the door, ready to deal with the bullshit he would throw you today. when you opened your door, your father seemed battered and bruised.

"holy sh-i mean...what happened?" you asked, holding the door open for your dad as he sat on the recliner.

"nothing." he shuttered. "nothing happened."

you stood there and crossed your arms. "clearly something happened."

he shook his head, seeming almost fearful. "nothing happened, now drop it." you stood there as he turned to you. "you aren't grounded anymore. your phone is on my dresser." he seemed almost defeated.

you stared at your dad trying to understand what the hell is going on. are you in the twilight zone? you knew you wouldn't get an answer out of him so you grabbed your things and raced out of the house before he could change his mind. the sun was setting but you didn't care, you had one thing and one thing only on your mind.

you got on your bike and raced towards tannyhill. when you finally got there, you threw your bike down and almost ran to the front door. with two knocks, wheezie opened the door.

"y/n?" she said with a smirk.

"hey, wheezie, is rafe home?" you say, snooping around the insides of the home.

she rolls her eyes and opens the door. "in his room."

you walk up the stairs and stop right before his door. your fist hovering over it before connecting it to the wood. after a few seconds, rafe stands there in the almost dark room.

"y/n." he says, almost as though he was expecting you to be here.

you quickly jump into his arms, holding onto him by his neck. you missed this. the way he smelled, the way he felt, everything about this boy drive you wild. "i missed you."

"i missed you too, honey. come on in." he lets you into his room. this was your first time being in here. sure, you've seen it through snapchat and pictures he sends but that's it. it's the typical boy room but it felt authentic. it felt like rafe.

you sit down on his bed as he walks around, picking up clothes off the floor. "didn't think i'd be having guests." he doesn't seem like his usual self, maybe you caught him at a bad time? but he invited you in, so you stayed.

you laugh at him. "no big deal, the old man let me off the hook tonight. it was weird, he came home all messed up. i tried asking but he kinda pushed me away. it was weird."

rafe stood there, silently. "oh really?"

"yeah, super strange. he's not usually the fighter type. never has been." you watch him stand there. "you all good?"

he nods and turns to you. "i am, now that you're here."

you smile at him as he approaches you. you open your legs so he can stand in between them, looking down at you. he traces your face with his finger, stopping at your lips. "all mine, sweetheart. all mine." he says before bending down to kiss you. the kiss feels rough, almost as though you are a fresh breathe of air that rafe has been waiting for. he pushes you down onto his bed and crawls on top of you.

you break the kiss and look into his eyes, his room is dark so you can only make out certain features. but you bring your hand to his face and hold his cheek, which makes him wince. "oh, i'm sorry, did i hurt you?"

"n-no, it's all good." he tries to kiss you again but you stop him.

"rafe?" you ask him, making him stop once again. "what's wrong? tell me."

"goddamn! nothing is wrong, okay? i can't miss you." he says, running a hand through his hair. you try to study his face but can't even see him. you reach over for his bedside lamp. "no, no, leave it of-" before he can stop you, the light is on. his beautiful face has a large bruise under his right eye and cheek. his lip busted and knuckles bruised.

"rafe?" you question, sitting up.

"y/n, i can explain." he pleads.

then it all makes sense. your father coming home all battered and bruised, rafe's current state, you being let off the hook too easily.

"you don't even want to know."

"it's okay, baby, we'll figure this out."

his words from that night ring through your head. the way his whole demeanor changed that night into a person you've never seen before.

"d-did you?" you ask with teary eyes.

"baby, look at me. i can explain." he begs you but you start to get up.

"explain what? how you beat up my fucking dad!?" you yelled, trying to grasp the millions of thoughts you had. "h-how could you?" you stand by his door, pacing, with your head in your hands.

he walks up to you, grabbing your hand. "look at me, honey, please. look at me." he begs you, trying to grab your attention.

when you finally turn to him, you see the cuts and bruises again. "rafe, why?" you say with a tear slipping down.

"because i love you, honey. you're my girl and i don't give a fuck who it is, they cannot talk to you the way your own father did. calling you easy, acting like your dumb for being around me. nobody should ever talk to you like that, ever." you stop and he cups your face in his hands. "i just wanted to talk to him, okay? all i wanted to do was talk. but then he started again with how i'm a bad person and how you were being stupid for even acknowledging me. he said he didn't need a guy like me corrupting his daughter and i snapped."

you gazed into his eyes, they looked as though they were pleading with you to see why he did what he did.

"please, say something. please." he states.

you sigh and close your eyes. "rafe, i don't need you going around defending my honor, especially to my dad. it's not worth it."

"not worth it? sweetheart, look at me." you open your eyes. "you are worth everything to me, you hear me? everything. i would kill for you if you asked me to. i never had someone care for me the way you do, have someone listen to me, or even treat me normally. you mean the world to me, y/n. i love you."

and there it was.

rafe cameron, for once in his life, showed affection.

he told someone they love them.

"i'm sorry it was your dad, okay? sometimes, i black out and can't remember things when i'm angry. i act on my impulses. but with you, i never feel that way." he shakes his head, trying to contain all his emotions. your eyes water again, causing him to wipe the tears. "what's wrong, baby? talk to me."

you smile through the tears. "i just, i love you too." no one has ever made you feel so safe and loved in one moment than rafe has this past month. he's all you could ever ask for.

he beams down at you, shaking his head. "you mean that?"

"with every ounce of my body, i love you." you admit.

his heart swelled as he connected your lips once more to his. you were all his, all he ever needed in life to feel whole.

rafe pushes you against the door, a light moan slipping from your lips as he presses himself against you.

"you like that?" he asks, a satisfied smirk on his face as he kisses your cheek and goes down your neck.

you nod under his touch, like you're cast in his spell. "y-yes."

"you want more?" he asks, sucking on one spot of your neck for a long time. all you can do is nod, already becoming a mess because of him. he pulls away, having you almost whimper from the lack of contact. "not uh, baby, gotta hear some words out of that beautiful mouth of yours. i'll repeat myself, do you want more."

"y-yes, rafe, yes please."

he groans at your begging and nods. "good girl." he pulls you over to the bed and guides you toward it. you feel the bed hit the back of your knees and you sit down, looking up at him. he quickly takes his shirt off and tosses it to the side.

he kisses your lips lightly as his hands find the end of your shirt, lightly toying with the fabric. "y-you can take it off." with the reassurance, he slips the top off and leaves it next to you. his eyes take in your body, your breasts pooling out of a flimsy green bralette. he sucks his tongue and gently runs his fingers over your tits.

"so pretty and they're all for me." he slowly reaches behind your back and unclasps the bralette with one hand, letting it fall down your body. you could swear rafe has tiny hearts in his eyes as they bore onto your half-naked body. "lay down." you follow his orders and lay against his pillows. his bedroom light shines over his features and the cuts from the fight. you bring your hand up to touch them and he gives into your touch. "you okay?"

"more than okay." you tell him.

he kisses your hand then his lips meet with yours once again. he then lets his lips trail across your cheek, jaw, neck, and down to your chest. he stares at your tits before peppering them both with kisses. he then takes one nipple in his mouth, slowly, and grabs your other one with your free hand to give a squeeze. your body instantaneously reacts to rafe's touch, moaning at the sensation of his lips. "you like that, huh?" he almost teases, switching to the other nipple.

"m-more." you whisper out, clenching your eyes.

"what was that, honey? need you to speak up for me." he grins.

"please, i want more, rafe. touch me more." you raise your voice.

"you got it." his hand leaves your tit and trails slowly down your body, resting at the hem of your jeans. he unbuttons them and lets his hands slide down your underwear, his hands automatically getting soaked. "shit, baby, all this for me?" he runs ins finger down your cunt and gathering your slick, bringing it to his mouth. he sucks it off his fingers as you watch in awe. "you're just too sweet for me, you know that?"

he doesn't even give you time to think before he puts his fingers back inside you, swirling your cunt. your hands grab his shoulders, holding onto them for dear life. "it's okay, i got ya, i always got ya." he reassures as he slowly slips one finger into your tight hole. "jesus, honey, with a hole this tight i don't know how long i'll last." he says as he slips his finger in and out of you, his thumb still toying with your clit.

your head falls back as more moans fall from your lips. "more, rafe, please give me more."

he laughs slightly. "cocky little thing, aren't ya? if you insist." he adds one more finger, your hole clenching around him as his finger slip in and out. "look how pretty you look with my fingers inside of you." he says before kissing your mouth, collecting your moans. you're so wet you hear the noises your pussy is making around him. you feel overstimulated as rafe keeps going, not stopping once. tears prick your eyes as you feel your high approaching. his thumb rubs harder as your nails connect to rafe's chest, dragging them down. "my pretty baby, i just love you so much." he says, staring at you.

with those words, you feel yourself being pushed to pleasure. you cum all over rafe's fingers, crying out his name. "rafe!"

he lets you ride out your high before taking his fingers out and putting them in his mouth like he did before. "never gonna get tired of that."

he gets up and heads to the bathroom. you want to talk to him, ask him where he's going, but you're too tired. you've never felt this good, not even from your own fingers. rafe comes back with a towel in his hand, gently, he pulls off your shorts and panties, cleaning off your pussy. the water is nice and warm as he gets you situated. he drops the rag and crawls into his bed next to you, holding you tightly.

"you know, if you want me to go dow-" but before you can finish that sentence he kisses your forehead.

"no need to rush there, honey. i wanna take my time with you, wanna show you how good i can make you feel." your heart melts in your chest as he rubs your back lightly. "get some rest, alright?"

you fall asleep fast in his arms, he holds you there the entire night and doesn't plan on letting go.

[norikuna]

BED CHEM— geto suguru minors dni. art by to00fu !

welcome to the christmas tour ! take a seat in section (b) and let the show begin !

prologue. → ditching your friend's christmas condo party for your scrumptious, needy boyfriend? yes please!

want to try sitting somewhere else ? take a look at the ticket chart again !

pairing. geto suguru x afab!reader

warnings+. awful usage of brainrot slang to weird geto out (mission successful), making out, messy sèx, crèampiè, nothing crazy !

word count. 5k! song inspiration. bed chem — sabrina carpenter

a/n. happy 1 month birthday to this blog!!!!!! 😭 kind of fitting that i celebrate with a geto fic <3

mp3. where art thou? why not uponeth me? see it in my mind, let's fulfill the prophecy !

"hey," you say, holding up the dress and crinkling the red satin in your fingers, "what'd you think of this one?"

it's a gorgeous number, a sheer, corset bodice with a daring thigh-high slit, all set to softly drape off your shoulders. the kind of dress that screams 'sexy without trying too hard' and 'television heroine vampire heiress'. your goal in life.

geto doesn't even glance up from his latest obsession, crouched by the kitchen counter. he's eye level with a pavlova, drizzling raspberry glaze over it like he's performing surgery. without missing a beat, "it's cool. for someone desparate in witness protection," he deadpans.

you scoff, clutching the gown like the aforementioned television heroine, "you just say weird shit sometimes. what does that even mean? and a day one hater, didn't even look up..."

"and yet," geto mutters, still hyper-focused on his dessert, "i know i'm right."

you throw the dress onto the couch dramatically, "suguru, you bought this dress for me."

that gets your boyfriend's attention and he looks up, catching the gleam of familiar red satin, and visibly gulps, "oh. my bad. it's, uh, hot you'd look hot, i mean."

"nice save, baby," you arch a brow.

he tosses his inky black hair back, some of it falling right back into his face, "what's it for?"

you sigh, propping your legs up on the worn couch, "that big party, remember? my friend who got married and had a kid last year, y'know her right?"

geto hums, popping a fresh blueberry into his mouth, without taking his eyes off the pavlova, "mmph," he says through a mouthful, "the one who married the guy who cheated on her like thrice?"

you grin, delighted he remembers the gossip you've spoon fed to him over time, "yeah, well, apparently he tried making it up to her by buying her an entire condo."

geto wrinkles his nose in disgust, "tacky. ya' just can't buy class."

"totally," you sigh, "but it's so nice in there. and when she hosts parties there, i can't really complain. it's like, so gorgeous."

then, you glance back at your focused boyfriend, watching as he artfully arranges more berries atop the meringue, "mhm, speaking of gorgeous, are you gonna stand there making love to the pavlova all night, or are you gonna help me accessorise this thing?"

geto glances at you, his violet eyes narrowing playfully, "why so needy? jealous of whipped egg whites and sugar?"

you flop your arms to your sides with a dramatic sigh, "what if i am?"

geto exhales as though you are his most tiresome, and favourite thing in the entire world. grabbing a silver spoon from the cutlery rack, and dipping it into the sticky-sweet raspberry glaze. he's striding towards you, and there's that signature air of both exasperation and amusement, "open."

you comply, simply because dessert trumps dignity, and not before biting down on the spoon with unnecessary force just to mess with him. the glaze simply melts on your tongue, and you smack your lips, "mmm. wait, this shit's really good. what's it for?"

geto laughs, stepping closer to swipe his warm thumb across your bottom lip to catch a stray bit of glaze, "for us, jus' us. thought we'd have something sweet for christmas."

you clutch your chest like a damsel, "i thought i was your sweet thing for christmas."

your dear boyfriend rolls his eyes, swatting your arm lightly with the sticky spoon, leaving a smear of glaze, "tch, what am i gonna do with you?"

you gasp in mock outrage at the sensation, but geto's expression shifts, softening as he swings a knee up onto the arm of the couch, "wan' me to come with ya?"

you blink, thrown off from his hauntingly beautiful features that you'll never get tired of, "come with me where?"

"that party, love."

your jaw practically hits the floor, "wait, really? you actually want to? thought you hated these things?"

geto's lips quirk upwards, shrugging a shoulder, "the things i do for my pretty girlfriend."

cue the squeal. exaggerated just enough to irritate him, just a bit. you clutch his arm, bouncing slightly, "aw! you really do love me!"

geto's exasperated look cracks, softening into something far more quiet and fond. he places a hand on your head, ruffling through your hair just enough to make you scowl at the mess, "don't push your luck," he warns. but his tone betrays his amusement, "i just feel bad i haven't gone to any of the others with you."

"i'm glad you said that, though, suguru," you start, already scheming as you lean forward and rest your head on his knee like its the most natural pillow in the world. he lets out a soft puff of breath, almost instinctively leaning down to press a kiss to your temple.

"remember those high-waisted pants i said would look really good on you?"

geto frowns, "the ones you said made me look like a...and i quote, a slutty mushroom?"

"bingo. you should wear them. the world deserves to see your delicious gyatt —"

your baiting words are accentuated by a pinch to the back of his dark sweatpants but cut off by his sharp exhale, and the way his fingers, which had been lazily tracing the curve of your ear, freeze mid-motion.

"my what, love?" geto asks, his tone a mix of suspicious and the kind of dread reserved for people who know they're about to regret asking a question.

"gyatt," you repeat, completely unrepentant, no shame nor misery, "it means —"

"i know what it means," geto cuts in, deadpan with a faint and tell-tale blush creeping onto his tan skin, "i'm cutting off our wifi. all our electricity actually."

you laugh, patting his muscular thigh lightly before squeezing it again for good measure, "oh, so you do know what it means. that's embarrassing for you, babe."

"and yet, somehow, i still have the moral high ground," geto grouches, pinching the bridge of his nose, "and you say that i say weird shit. now you're bringing gojo's tiktok fuckery into my own home."

"first of all, it's our home," grabbing the red dress and standing, almost knocking him off the couch's arm, "second of all, my big and tall and beautiful boyfriend is such a cutie patootie when he's embarrassed."

geto groans, tilting his head back, "stop. you're emasculating me."

you pause in the doorway, "you cry everytime we watch strawberry shortcake. you do that shit to yourself."

"that was one time!" geto protests, but you can hear the smile colouring his voice.

"two times."

"the mermaid episode was emotionally poignant. power of friendship and moral honesty despite the promise of treasure," he calls after you, "you wouldn't get the timeless themes!"

well, mission accomplished. the dress fits you like a second skin, hugging all the right places. and you're not even ashamed of how long you spend admiring yourself in the mirror. the way the corset lifts your chest, well, it's definitely giving hot and sexy vampire now.

you delicately pat a glitter bomb compact over your skin, letting the soft shimmer catch the light on your collarbones and shoulders. it's a fine balance, you think, but you know there's a fine line between 'faintly glittered-up' and looking like 'fenty beauty just projectile-vomited rosé rave' all over you.

"suguru!" you call out, expecting a snarky reply but hearing nothing. typical. "suguru!" you yell again, just because you can. you wander out of the bedroom, only to find him already in position: stretched across the couch, legs draped lazily over the armrest.

and fuck, he looks good. wearing those wide-legged pants you suggested, and obviously, you were right about them. a crisp white top with the sleeves rolled up just enough to show off his forearms. geto's hair is pulled back into that high, slightly messy knot he's so fond of, but a rogue and choppy strand has escaped, brushing against his cheek.

the whole look screams 'effortlessly hot' and you can imagine how smug he'd be if he knew what you were thinking.

"oh. hey, love," he greets casually, scrolling through his phone and still draped over the couch like a catalog model who knows all his angles. but then geto looks up, and the phone nearly slips out of his hand.

"uhhh, hey," he says, his eyes widening as he takes you in, and his rosewood lips part, as he says it again, clearly dumbfounded, "hey."

you laugh, crouching down next to him, amused by the way he's visibly short-circuiting, "not bad yourself," you tease, "what were you looking at?"

before he can stop you, you lean in to peak at geto's phone, pressing yourself against his side. glitter from your collarbones transfers onto his skin, but you're too busy laughing at his dimly lit screen to notice.

"suguru!" you gasp, your shoulders beginning to tremor, "fuckass yahoo answers, of all places. wait — i can't believe people still use that. stop moving your phone, let me read!"

is it good or bad if my girlfriend says i have a gyatt?

geto's ears turn deliciously red, and he locks his phone with an exaggerated click, "okay. nosy mcgee," and he's grumbling, "makin' me sound like a loser."

you pat his cheek lightly, grinning like a cheshire cat, "it means i think you're scrumptious," you say with mock seriousness, "like top-tier snackish. like, as in, i like your ass."

geto huffs, his lips twitching despite himself. and then, leaning forward, he presses a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. you wrinkle it instinctively, thinking of all the concealer and powder you had layered earlier.

"well," he says, as he brushes a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear, "i think you're pretty too."

you sigh dramatically, "just pretty? why did i end up with a nonchalant man?"

geto gasps, his mauve eyes widening in mock offence as he juts his lip forward, "hah, 'scuse me. i'm not nonchalant. i'm like the total opposite of nonchalant. i'm like...chalant."

you snort, catching his stray fingers as they linger close enough to your lips for you to playfully nip at them, "yes. you are. my very chalant boyfriend. what a hero."

geto rolls over to his side, so he's facing you. absolutely wrinkling his white shirt, "thank you for recognising my efforts."

but then his tone shifts, his gaze running over you, "but seriously, you look hot. like crazy hot. like wow, my girlfriend is insanely hot," and he leans in slightly, "and i jus' can't stop looking at your two, beautiful, perfect..."

it hits you that his gaze has dropped to the swell of your chest.

"suguru! my eyes are up here, you dog."

"shit, been caught." and he's still laughing at your grumbles, grabbing your wrist and gently pulling you up in one swift motion, dragging you alongside him towards the bedroom.

"hey!" you protest half-heartedly, trying to dig your heels into the carpet, "the front door's the other way, genius. we're gon' be late."

geto doesn't stop his stride, glancing back at you with a pleading look that's also smug at the same time, "yeah, but you're the one who looks like that. don't think i can function. i need a minute."

"geto suguru, everybody. one-minute wonder. all he needs to finish."

you hear your boyfriend's scoff, as a teasing laugh escapes him, "hah, can't help being like this, can ya? got a gold medal when it comes to pissing me off."

you smile sweetly, "it's because i love you."

geto rolls his rich-plum eyes, his hand guiding you towards the bed as he shakes his head, "you know i love you too, right?"

"duh."

"good," geto says, and with that, he's leaning in. pressing a hot kiss to your jaw, then moving to your waiting mouth. it's messy, sloppy, the kind that makes your pussy clench a bit. sue you, eh? it's just the effect that geto suguru has on you.

you let out a soft whine as his tongue smears across your satin-finished, ruby lips, perfectly lined not ten minutes ago. but then geto's pulling away, circling his finger lazily in the air. a wordless demand that leaves your thighs clenching in anticipation.

you playfully huff, but spin yourself away from him. planting yourself on all fours, hearing geto grunt as he seems to appreciate the view. tsk, your predictable, eager boyfriend.

his large hand is running slowly down your spine, like he's savouring the way the satin clings to you. it's sending shivers down your body, and you're certain that if geto were to push your dress up and cup your core with a large hand, he'd pull it away wet and dripping.

"ah, pretty. so pretty, aren'tcha?" and his fingers are tugging taut at the ruched dress, like he can't quite believe you're real and his. despite three smooth years of professing your love to one another.

"suguru," you protest, "y'know 's not a cheap dress, babe."

you can hear the amusement tinging his smooth voice, "i know. i bought it, remember? don't want you worryin' your pretty lil' head over it."

you let out a soft sigh as you feel him entirely lean his weight over you, enveloping you in that heady scent of leather and cardamom. scooting your ass back, so tight satin would faintly drag across his very pronounced erection.

"f-fuck," and geto's laugh is sharp, disbelieving. half a huff, and half a chuckle, but entirely in awe. broad, warm hands are gliding over you before the gentle press of his palms come to rest on your hips. he's sliding your dress up, letting satin rustle with a soft, whispering sound. leaving your skin exposed to the sudden and sharp kiss of the christmas air.

"wow," geto whistles quietly, appreciatively. he seemed to be enjoying the sheer red thigh-high tights that clung to the plush of your thighs like a second scarlet skin, and you gasp as he hooks a long finger underneath the lace border, snapping it once briefly in a mild sting.

his hands are so close to where you need them most, and it's so utterly infuriating. he's practically dancing his finger tips over your inner thighs, ghosting so close to your underwear. panties that were surely languid, weighty by now. you could feel the damp cotton growing far more slippery and tacky as geto suddenly ran a finger over your clothed cunt.

and you can hear the elation in his voice as he lifts a finger up to his mouth, swirling his tongue around your syrupy taste, "hah, you're practically a super-soaker. that's pretty cool."

you scowl, fighting the urge to swivel around and pounce him in retribution, "y-yeah, thanks," but the bite in your words is tempered by the lazy heat that coils in your stomach, "but you're taking too l-long, baby. can't you jus' -"

and you're deciding to take matters into your own hands, as geto seems fascinated by how thin, clear strands create small bridges between his fingers. you reach for the waistband of his high-waisted pants, running your own hand down his absurdly slender waist, right over a godly chiselled torso.

"y'got impatient, didn't you, love?" and now geto's scowling, hauling your wrist back to pin it behind your back like you foretold. but not before planting a soft press of lips to your inner arm, gentle and tender.

but you flex your fingers behind your back, stretching them out, groping at the air. your boyfriend must have noticed, almost immediately because of course he does, and you can hear a soft, knowing coo from behind you.

"ah, 's what you want, right?" he teases, sliding his cool, slender fingers over yours, intertwining them effortlessly, "just wanted me holdin' your hand, how cute."

"maybe i was j-just stretching," you huff, but squeezing his hand tighter.

geto hums, unconvinced, as his thumb brushes lazily over the back of your hand, and you can hear the sound of fabric rustling behind you, "sure. totally not begging me to hold your hand like some lovesick, little dove."

but any retort falls away from your tongue, right when you feel something heavy, and hot smack against your tailbone, leaving a faint, moist kiss that feels cold when it patters off, "now pay attention."

you muffle a small, desparate whine, as geto has one hand tangled with yours and the other being used to hold and smack his thick cock once more over the base of your spine, "hope s-she's ready f' me now."

you feel as though all the air has been utterly pushed out of you, just from geto practically splitting you in two. you don't even have to look at geto to know that he's absolutely wrecked already, just from the throbbing, curved tip of his cock pushing past your tight walls, snagging with only the mildest resistance.

you can almost see it in your mind's eye, picturing it all just from his low curses and gasp.

how his chin must have tucked low enough to kiss his sternum, feathery strands of hair spilling over his forehead. those inky lashes fluttering in disbelief and surrender over hazy mauve eyes.

"s-she's always so eager to take me," geto croons, and his eyes are practically glued to the way your puffy folds bulge and drool over his shaft slowly feeding inches into you, "almost there, love."

"look at, hah, t-that," your boyfriend drawls, but you can hear how entirely undone he is, that tremour cutting off the end of his words in a sharp gasp as you arch yourself into him, letting that stretch take you so deliciously.

"keep your back arched like that, love," geto murmurs, and his hands are guiding you, pulling your hips back in a gentle, rhythmic push-and-pull over his cock. leaving you to feel his girthy shaft rummage and jostle around your insides, leaving a hefty divot at the edge of your cervix in a way that has you suddenly keening out a faint moan, "doing s-so well for me."

and fuck, the sound of his groin smacking wet kisses against your ass has you feeling like your head was going to explode, and your heart was going to give out, pressing right up into your throats. but you can tell geto is pleased, ruined even as he slowly drags his cock out of you at a filthy, slow pace.

if only to make you feel every throbbing vein on him, and how it imprints on your gummy walls.

there's something just so right about him being in you like this, having his pretty love bent over and absolutely stuffed full of his cock, something that just makes sense.

and right now, nothing else in the world matters save for you, and geto can't bring himself to even care about deadlines, or a decent and sensible christmas dinner, or some stupid party. not when he's letting his weighty, drooling tip loll out of your folds.

thick and heavy like a heated rod in the cool air of the evening, as he pushes two long fingers to spread open your syrupy folds, running the angry-red tip over your gloss, before finally pushing himself back inside.

"i w-was gonna say it was this dress, love," geto stammers, swirling his hips around, trying to rustle right into you, "but i think it's just you. ya know w-what you do to me right, hah, don'tcha, pretty?"

oh you are more than aware. and that heightened sense of perception is only exacerbated by how the thick curve of his cock is bruising into you. slamming into you with a heavy smack!

geto's world tilts, leaving him teetering on the edge of an embarrassingly early orgasm. but he feels little shame, not when his head is so heavy and his lips sting, caught under the desparate press of his teeth. every shallow breath he takes feeling like it's just unravelling him further, circling the tips of his fingers over your clit, just so you can whine and arch yourself into him more.

geto decides to play that card more, wrapping a thick arm around you to pull you into the air slightly. that faint increase in angle making you buckle as his weeping tip pulls symphonies of thick, angry squelches from your sensitive cunt. each jostle of his sharp, staccato hips feeling more and more shaky.

"not too much, r-right?" geto's breath hitching in uneven bursts, caught somewhere between delirious laughter and incredulous, overstimulated sobs.

that sweet, and unsteady wheeze results in tears pricking at geto's eyes from the delicious heat of your pussy, falling over the feverish nape of your neck, "know you wanted to go o-out, wanted to wear this pretty dress but i think 'm gonna d-die if i stop now, 's okay with you, yeah?"

"not t-too much, suguru," you hiss, feeling crystalline tears pool in your own lashes, just from pure please, "f-fuck, 'm already so close."

and you truly are, he's drilling himself into you at a beastly place, jostling a large hand over your chest, brushing over the lace lining the corset bodice, as if he's desparate to get his hands into your dress, to brush his thumbs over sensitive nipples.

his cock leaving searing trails of precum against your drooling, fluttering walls, leaving behind a wet trail that almost burned you. the force of his crashing hips leaving stamps in their wake, and geto's gasping and groaning at the faint cling of your dewy pussy, snatching him in quick, forceful bursts.

you shuffle precariously, still jostled against him, as you push down the bodice of your dress. probably damaging the framework a bit, but it's so worth it to hear geto almost sigh in relief, letting his hands run over the fat of your tits. pinching, swirling his fingers over the soft skin.

geto thinks he might just collapse over you in a weak heap when he hears your whine, "wan' more, s-suguru."

yes, more. that's exactly what geto wants to give you. he wants to see you milk him dry from the heavy balls swinging against your skin, wants to see you heave breaths of air as his seed drips out of you. wants to have you pressed against him for hours on end, to flip you over so your ankle lock behind his neck.

his imagination must have been working overtime. for like the peak specimen of male virility that he is, geto suguru just ends up cumming instead.

and with an embarrassing, heady grunt from him, geto's pulling his pulsating cock out of your folds, doing his best to keep himself steady enough to use his other hand well.

to keep running his fingers in tight circles around your clit, while he lets his spurting cock pump load after load of translucent, white fluid paint your spine a pretty pearly sheen. coming right on you.

it's so messy, it's so filthy and geto feels mildly numb as he decides to push his still throbbing cock, one that is still spurting right back into you, as he pushes his weight onto you, taking care not to force you too harshly against the crumpled sheets.

and geto just can't help himself, can't stop himself from leaving sloppy, wet kisses to the back of your neck, to your cheek. can't help himself from tilting your face back so his mouth can meet yours, and he can taste that raspberry syrup from earlier on your tongue, sweet and tangy.

and geto doesn't even care that he sounds ruined, raw and brittle. absolutely tattered as he whines, "we d-don't have to go to that party, right? hnngh, jus' need to hear you say that we don't have to, i think 'm gonna need some more of her. milking me so w-well."

he doesn't hear much apart from your gasps, your short cries like a mantra of "ah, ah! suguru!"

you weren't even sure how much time had passed, an hour even. or more. and you vaguely wondered if your friends were still there. sitting at some christmas party in some luxury condo, whispering over flutes of champagne, wondering about where you were. unaware that your adonis-esque boyfriend had been pounding himself into you, stretching you out over his cock until you were seeing heavenly stars.

until you were feeling thick ropes of white paint your insides once more, and streaks of dark dimmed your vision, and mauve and violet flashed behind your eyes.

you're tugging at the hem of your dress, still laughing fondly as you watch geto. his tousled, choppy hair falling out of its knot, and his eyes half-lidded and blissed out. his crumpled white top clings to his lean frame, and he's propped up lazily against the headboard with his other thick arm slung back behind his head.

"give me another hour, and we can do it again, love," geto huffs, his voice still a little raspy from earlier.

you shake your head in amusement, despite the mildly uncomfortable feeling of slick sticking beneath your thighs, splattered over your beautiful dress, "mhm, what a nice way to spend christmas, huh?"

geto stares at you adoringly, and his eyes are heavy with contentment, like he can't quite believe that you're here, and for a second, you think maybe the world would stop right there, in this perfect moment.

he runs a thumb over your face, pressing down on your lower lip, "i think it's better than some party," and geto's tone is dreamy, lazy, "no offence to your friend."

you snicker, thinking about whether you're going to need some well-thought excuse for your dear friend. or whether you're going to spill the whole truth for her.

but just as you're about to pull geto's plush mouth into another lazy kiss, his brow furrows. a sudden, concerned shift in his expression.

"hey," your boyfriend mutters, reaching to find his phone, "what's the humidity like tonight?"

you blink, caught off guard, "humidity? what's it matter?"

well, your skin feels unusually sticky, like the air itself is clinging to your sweat-dampened skin. despite the cool air of the december night. and there's that sweet, pleasant tiredness settling into your bones.

geto's suddenly sitting up, his eyes wide with realisation, "wait, love. fuck," he's muttering, scrambling up to his feet, "the kitchen!"

before you can process what's happening, he's racing for the door, and you stare at the empty spot on the rumpled sheets where your broad boyfriend was sitting not ten seconds ago.

"what is wrong with that man?" you murmur, but you hear a panicked cry from the kitchen, something about that damned pavlova going limp and soft with the heating on.

you bite back a small comment about something else going limp and soft, deciding to save that one for later when he's back in bed.

[solelifauna]

GUYS THIS COMMENT FROM @silken-moons ON THE WEREWOLF AU HAS ME LOCKED IN.

silken-moons:

Wait....so what happened to Kon or Conner in this au ? Was he the one eaten since he was basically half human and kryptonian too assuming lex is human in this au too.

I am more than happy to elaborate.

Lex is a half-human half-werewolf hybrid like the reader. So Conner would be half-kryptonian and only a fourth werewolf. When Clark finds out about his existence he’s pissed (at first). Superman doesn’t hesitate before finding Luthor and melting his skull in with his laser vision. It’s quite the graphic scene, Conner unfortunately being there to witness it all.

Conner is pressed back into some crevice in Luthor's office, doing his best to calm his heart beat, stave off his on-coming panic attack, and pray that Superman won’t kill him. Clark of course finds him curled in on himself, hyperventilating, tears streaming down his teenage face.

Conner is blubbering, he thinks, trying to communicate some type of garbled “please” and “I’m sorry” and “don’t hurt me please”. Superman just critically eyes him before knocking the clone out. Now, in the beginning he was just planning on taking the clone to the Watch Tower to interrogate him and then kill him. Perhaps Jon would like the extra meat?

But after watching the clone wake up alone in one of the containment units, crying quietly to himself as he rocked back and forth, he started to feel a little bad. He thought back onto the way the clone had practically begged him for mercy through his own panic attack. He's read Lex Luthor's files on "Superboy", how this clone had no flight, was not invulnerable, and couldn't even throw out half of Clark's strength.

This clone was no threat, no, in fact he was a gift. Another Kryptonian (even if the clone was only half with human DNA in his mix). And even better, the clone boy had no ill intentions towards the JL, hell, the boy looked afraid that anyone even considered the idea. No, no, no, this boy, his boy, was so sweet.

From the way he leaned into Clarks palm when he caressed the sleeping boys face, to the way he clung to Clark and his approval like a touch starved puppy, Clark couldn't help himself. The only problem now was getting his Wife and Son on the same page. He knew werewolf customs, he knew what it meant for Conner (a name his new son had previously picked out).

It would probably be easier to convince Jon considering the poor kid's been wanting a sibling for a long time now (Jon is 8 right now, but still all the same crazy). Lois might take a bit more time, considering pack bonds and the human part of Conner. So with a heavy heart, he kisses his new baby goodnight, as he flies home for he night. Yes, its been a couple of weeks since Connors arrival and he still hasn't told his family. he plans to amend that today.

He expects growling and demands for flesh. he expects outrage from his wife, or even a calm cool collected "bring him to me". What he gets instead are demands from Lois to see Conner, her new son. Clark blinks in surprise before he's fumbling with his phone, opening up his camera role where has has a million new pictures of Conner. Lois only grabs his phone, cooing over the pictures with adoration in her eyes. Well, Clark is pleasantly surprised.

"You're not mad are you Lois?" Clark asks gently.

"Oh I'm not mad Smallville, I'm livid." She all but growls, a smile still etched on her face as she continues scrolling. "You knew about him for weeks, and didn't even bother letting me know. I had a son for weeks, and he's been by himself."

Clark winces. "I know Lois, I know. I just-I was just afraid that you wouldn't want him the way I do. That you'd rip him open, hell, even I considered it in the beginning!"

Lois looks up from his phone, a knowing smile, a soft one, on her face. "I know farm boy, I know. But its important that you remember we don't always kill and eat the weak. Sometimes, its nice to have something that you can love and take care of, something that relies on you and only you."

"is that what you have planned for Connor?"

"Of course. He's our son now, and after everything he's been through, its out job to keep him and Jon safe. Until he can prove himself capable, he's not leaving the den."

A content grin makes its way onto Clarks face. Oh how he loved his wife. "I wouldn't have it any other way Lois. I'll bring him here tomorrow. Now, lets go let our other little rascal know."

Lois smirks. "I agree. Lord knows he's been waiting to have a-"

"-I have a new brother!" Comes the familiar voice of Jon Kent, cutting his mother off in his excitement.

Clark raises his eyebrow fondly, feigning exasperation. "Did you listen in on our conversation Jonathan Samuel Lane-Kent?"

"Of course I did! Well-I didn't mean to, but I couldn't help it! You said I have a brother and I wanna see him!" Jon all but whines.

"Well honey, dad said he'd bring him home tomorrow okay."

"Really!?"

"You betcha. But Jon, you have to be gentle with him okay? He doesn't know werewolf or Kryptonian customs okay?" His dad says.

"Okay, I promise i'll be gentle." Jon swears, nodding up and down.

Lois sighs fondly. "And its important to know that he is part human, do you know what that means?"

"Mhm! It means that he's not allowed out the den or the house, and that its our job to protect him 'cause he's weak." Jon repeats from his memory.

"Good job Jon! You're going to be the best brother, I just know you are." His mom says.

Jon preens under the praise.

He can't wait to meet his new brother!

~~~~~

The next day arrives slower than anyone would have liked.

The morning sunlight filters through the sky as Clark flies Conner to him penthouse in Metropolis, cradling the boy carefully as he slumbers. Conner stirs in his arms, eyes fluttering open, a brief panic flashing in them until he meets Clark’s calm gaze.

“Where-where are we?” Conner mumbles, clutching at Clark’s shirt with a grip that feels hesitant, almost reluctant.

“We’re going home,” Clark replies, a small smile on his face. “Your new home. Your family’s waiting for you, Conner.”

Conner’s eyes widen, his mouth opening as if to protest, but the words die on his lips. His gaze shifts away, and he nods mutely, not quite daring to believe that this “family” will truly accept him. He’s felt so disposable for so long; he almost can’t imagine what it’s like to be wanted.

The penthouse doors open, and Lois stands there, her sharp gaze softening the instant she sees Conner. She steps forward, reaching out a hand in a silent invitation. Conner hesitates, clinging to Clark a little tighter, and Clark gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s okay, Conner,” he murmurs. “I'm here for you.”

With a slow, tentative step, Conner reaches out, letting Lois pull him into a gentle hug. Her arms are firm around him, warm but unyielding, a silent promise of protection, though he senses the fierce strength just below the surface. She smooths his hair with surprising gentleness, her voice soft as she whispers, “Welcome home, Conner.”

Conner relaxes, allowing himself to take a deep, shuddering breath. This feels strange. He's never really had a home before. Luthor's compound was last place he felt safe, let alone a place he'd call home. And that word, that feeling-safe. He isn’t sure he's ever felt it outside Superman, sorry, his Dad's arms.

And isn't that a crazy thing, he has a Dad now. Superman, Clark Kent was his Dad.

Jon, standing just a few steps away, is practically vibrating with excitement. When Lois finally releases Conner, Jon bounds over, a wide grin on his face.

“Hi! I’m Jon, your brother!” He pauses, then adds, almost reverently, “I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

Conner blinks in surprise, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks as he mumbles, “I-thank you, Jon.”

Lois places a hand on Jon’s shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze. “Remember what we talked about, Jon. Conner’s still adjusting. Be patient with him.”

Jon nods enthusiastically, but there’s a possessive glint in his eyes as he looks at Conner, a silent vow to protect his new brother from anything—or anyone—that might threaten him. Conner notices this look, a strange chill running down his spine, but he says nothing.

As the day unfolds, Conner tries to settle into this new life, though it feels almost too good to be true. Lois and Clark are attentive, constantly ensuring he’s comfortable, while Jon barely leaves his side, eager to show him every corner of the penthouse, as if staking his claim. Meals are filled with warmth and laughter, and yet Conner can’t shake the feeling of being watched, almost obsessively.

That night, as Conner lies in the bed they’ve prepared for him, he hears the soft creak of footsteps outside his door. It opens quietly, and Clark steps inside, his face illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the window. He walks over to the bed, looking down at Conner with an intense, unreadable expression.

“You’re part of this family now, Conner,” Clark says quietly, brushing a hand over Conner’s forehead in a strangely tender gesture. “Nothing will take you from us. Not anyone. You’re ours, do you understand?”

Conner nods, his throat tightening, unable to find words. Clark’s gaze softens, and he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to Conner’s forehead before turning and leaving the room, leaving Conner alone with a flurry of conflicted feelings. For the first time in his life, he feels wanted, cherished, trapped, as though he’s become a prized possession in a family he can never escape.

But, maybe, a small voice inside him whispers, he doesn’t want to escape at all.

Well folks, here's more lore on relationships outside of the Batfam. Let me know chat, am I cooking? New chap, out soon!

[ortegahaze]

anyone but you

[part one] | part two | part three | part four |

pairing: Tara Carpenter x gn!reader

synopsis: Tara and you, despite having mutual friends, have never met—until a Blackmore University fraternity party brings your paths together. The night is amazing, but the next morning is a disaster, and both of you hope never to see each other again. What you didn’t anticipate is that your best friends are getting married, and now you'll be forced to spend time together at their destination wedding.

warnings: no ghostface au, mentions of alcohol, fluff in the beginning, angst, bad writing, language, slight change in characters' age, mentions of a dead parent, “enemies” to lovers!

a/n: yes yes, totally inspired by the movie anyone but you, if you haven’t watched it, there will be spoilers. not sure if i liked this first chapter that much, next ones will be better, i promise🤞🏼

word count: 5,8k

—

Tara Carpenter loved to party, but mostly because she would always attend the fraternity houses’ parties with her friends who also attended Blackmore University. Unfortunately for her, it seemed that all her usual companions decided to skip the party tonight without bothering to tell her until the last minute.

There she was, dressed up as a pirate, frowning at her phone where her friends’ messages popped up, saying they wouldn’t be going. That was it—the start of a terrible Friday night. She considered going back home, feeling like a sad loser. But she knew exactly what awaited her there: Sam and Danny probably making out on the couch—or worse. Huffing, she shoved her phone into her back pocket, mustering the courage to enter the Omega Kappa Beta party by herself.

The music was loud, but good. Everyone was enjoying it with red cups held high. She made her way to the trashed kitchen, searching for something strong to help her loosen up and forget that her best friends had abandoned her for the night.

After three cups, she was already stumbling. The loud bass thumped through her chest, her head spinning just enough to make her a bit queasy. Needing a break, she headed for the pool area, which seemed quieter and less chaotic.

She slumped down onto one of the chairs, letting the cool night air hit her face. Maybe this night wasn’t a total disaster, but it sure wasn’t the wild, fun night she had imagined. She closed her eyes, the alcohol swirling in her system, trying to relax.

“Tara?” A voice interrupted her thoughts.

Opening her eyes and looking up, she saw a guy standing beside her. He had a kind of frat-boy look—probably one of the OKB members. Despite being a sophomore law student, Tara had never bothered to learn the names of these guys.

“Yeah?” she mumbled, squinting against the pool lights.

“You good?” the guy asked, concern creasing his forehead.

“Yeah, just… letting the alcohol wear off.” She slurred slightly, trying to sound more sober than she felt. The guy didn’t seem convinced but smiled anyway, offering his hand.

“I’m Frankie,” he said.

She hesitated before shaking his hand, her mind sluggish but wary. “Tara,” she replied.

He motioned toward the house. “You want some water? I can grab some for you in the kitchen.”

She nodded, standing up to follow him. “Yeah, that’d be nice,” she mumbled. Something felt off, but she pushed the thought away, blaming the alcohol for making her overly cautious.

As they walked back toward the house, she noticed fewer people by the pool. It was quieter, the conversations distant. That’s when Frankie spoke up again. “You know what? I have a minibar in my room. We can grab water there, and you can use the bathroom too if you need it.”

Tara’s stomach dropped. The convenient offer set off alarm bells in her head, her instincts kicking in despite the fog of alcohol. Why was he suddenly suggesting his room?

Before she could respond, someone stepped up next to Frankie, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, babe. I was looking for you! I finished my set for the night. We can go home now,” the stranger said smoothly.

She blinked, processing the situation. What?

Frankie glanced at the newcomer’s hand, visibly confused. “Uh…”

“I can see you’ve already met my girlfriend, Frankie,” the stranger continued with a casual smile. “That’s great, but we’ve gotta go now. She’s been having trouble sleeping lately, so I think it’s time we head out. Thanks for taking care of her while I was working tonight.”

Tara felt the stranger’s arm slip around her shoulder. The warmth and casualness of the embrace was oddly comforting, even though she had no idea who this person was. Still, she went along with the act, instincts telling her to trust this stranger over Frankie.

“Yeah, thanks, Frankie,” Tara echoed awkwardly. “We… uh… have to get going.”

Intertwining her fingers with the stranger’s, Tara took the first step, guiding them away from Frankie. Her heart raced—not from fear, but from the strangeness of the whole situation. She wasn’t used to needing to be rescued, especially not by someone who appeared out of nowhere.

When they were far enough from Frankie and back in the kitchen, Tara dropped the stranger’s hand. “Thank you… That was really nice of you.”

“Happy to help,” you replied, rummaging through the fridge. “Frankie’s not the type to handle rejection well, if you know what I mean… and by the look on your face, you were about to reject him.”

Tara flushed, embarrassment creeping up her neck. She wasn’t used to being seen as vulnerable. She hated feeling like she couldn’t handle herself. “Yeah, I was,” she admitted, brushing off her embarrassment with a small smile. “Thanks again.”

The stranger turned around, holding a bottle of water. “No problem. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You extended a hand.

She shook it, noticing how your grip was firm yet gentle. “I’m Tara,” she replied, her voice a little quieter this time. She found herself holding onto your hand for a bit too long before quickly letting go, feeling the touch linger longer than it should have. She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. “Uh, is there a bathroom around here?”

You pointed down the hallway. “Yeah, just down there.”

“Thanks,” Tara muttered, handing over the water and heading to the bathroom. Leaving you confused as you stand there with her water. Waiting.

She shut the door behind her and sat on the toilet seat, immediately pulling out her phone while peeing. Her fingers trembled slightly, the adrenaline of the night still buzzing through her as she quickly dialed Mindy. When Mindy picked up, Tara didn’t even wait for a greeting.

“Mindy, I just met this person, and I don’t know… It was something. They saved me from what could’ve been a really messy situation. But like… now what? I don’t even know them, but there was this… connection? Ugh, I don’t know. Maybe I’m overthinking it.” Tara paused, shaking her head at her own words. “I gotta go. I’ll call you back.”

Tara finished washing her hands and looked at herself in the mirror, her brown eyes staring back. She took a deep breath, brushing her fingers lightly over her fringe, as if steadying herself. "Okay," she whispered, gathering her resolve.

Stepping out of the bathroom, she navigated back toward the kitchen, dodging a couple passionately making out near the door, grimacing slightly as she passed them. Her eyes scanned the room until they locked onto yours, and she couldn’t help but smile awkwardly when you handed her the bottle of water.

“Your water,” you said, grinning.

“Thanks.” She took it, and for a moment, the two of you held each other’s gaze, a silent understanding passing between you. You started to say something, but she beat you to it, breaking the silence with a small, resigned smile.

“Well, I think I should call it a night,” she said with a soft sigh. “I’ve had my share of excitement.”

Your smile faltered just a bit, but you quickly recovered, masking any disappointment. As she moved to leave, you hesitated, your mind racing. You turned, watching her head toward the entrance, and something compelled you to act.

“Hey…” you called, stepping quickly after her. She paused, turning with a curious look.

“So, are you gonna ask me out now?” she teased, a playful glint in her eyes as she interrupted whatever you’d been about to say. Her comment took you by surprise, but you broke into a smile, catching onto the playful challenge in her tone.

“Yeah,” you replied, mirroring her smile. “Yeah, I am.” You both shared a quick laugh, then walked toward the door together, side by side.

As you walked out into the night, Tara looked up at you, her curiosity piqued. “You know… I go to a lot of these parties. How come I’ve never seen you around?”

Stuffing your hands into your pockets, you chuckled. “I’m not a student anymore. Graduated last year, but a friend of mine who still goes here got me to DJ tonight.” You let out a wry laugh. “Of course, he didn’t even bother showing up.”

She smirked. “Oh, sounds familiar. My friends did the same to me tonight.”

The streets were mostly empty, with the city’s usual hum softened at this late hour. Streetlights cast long shadows that flickered as you walked, and a few blocks away from the chaos of the party, Tara seemed more grounded, though her steps were still a bit unsteady from the alcohol.

“So,” you said, breaking the silence as you walked alongside her. “What about you? What do you study?”

Tara hugged herself, more from a sense of vulnerability than the chill in the air. She glanced over at you, her expression guarded but curious. “I study law.” she replied, then added reluctantly. Her voice had an almost clipped quality, and you noticed the way she quickly redirected the conversation. “And you? What’s your story?”

Noticing her attempt to shift the topic, you chuckled. “I started out in computer science. That’s what my parents wanted, and it sounded like a solid career, so I went with it for a while. Did a couple of semesters.”

“Computer science?” She raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “Didn’t peg you for the type to spend your days coding.”

“Neither did I,” you admitted, giving her a wry smile. “Eventually, I couldn’t stand it. I switched over to music production—that’s what I’d always wanted to do anyway.”

She nodded, seemingly intrigued despite herself. “I bet your parents weren’t thrilled with the change, huh?”

You shrugged, eyes on the sidewalk ahead. “Not at first. But eventually, they came around. And if worse comes to worst, I can always fall back on tech if I need to.”

Tara’s interest was clearly piqued as she glanced at you thoughtfully. “So, you just sit in a studio with those fancy soundboards?”

You laughed. “Something like that. Mostly, though, it’s me with my laptop, some recording equipment, and way too much caffeine. But I love it—taking random sounds and turning them into something people can connect to.”

She seemed to admire your passion, though she tried to keep her expression casual. “Sounds like you actually went after what you wanted,” she mused, almost to herself.

You smiled at her comment, feeling the quiet camaraderie that had formed between you. “So… you want to keep hanging out for a bit? My place isn’t far from here. I’d offer coffee, but it’s a bit late for that. I make a killer grilled cheese, though.”

Tara raised an eyebrow, both surprised and amused. “Inviting a girl you just met over for grilled cheese? That’s bold.”

You rubbed the back of your neck, grinning. “I like to think so. But no pressure. If you’d rather call it a night, I get it.”

She paused, considering the offer. The sincerity in your expression was unmistakable, and after the strange night she’d had, she found herself craving something simple, something real. With a nod, she finally agreed, letting a genuine smile slip through.

“Alright,” she replied, matching your smile with a smirk. “Let’s see if you’ve got any real culinary skills.”

The two of you continued down the quiet streets, the city’s glow casting a soft light as you walked together. The conversation flowed easily, shifting from one topic to the next as you shared bits and pieces of yourselves.

The conversation moved from childhood stories to other random facts—Tara mentioned she used to collect keychains, and you told her about the time you accidentally broke into the wrong apartment while trying to help a neighbor. The night air carried your laughter, mingling with the rustling leaves and the distant hum of traffic.

—

The two of you stood near the kitchen counter, your movements methodical as you crafted the grilled cheese the way you always did—spreading butter on the bread and layering two slices of cheese. After adding butter to the skillet, you waited for it to melt before placing the sandwich on it, flipping it with the spatula as it browned.

Tara’s eyes wandered around your warehouse-turned-apartment, taking in the cozy but modest space. Music equipment cluttered one corner, while old vinyl records filled the shelves along the walls. She leaned against the counter, her gaze shifting between you and the space, but lingering mostly on you.

“So,” she asked with a playful smirk, “do you invite strangers over for late-night sandwiches often?”

Without looking up from the stove, you chuckled. “Only the ones who look like they’d appreciate my culinary skills. You seemed like the type.”

She rolled her eyes, but a cute smile played on her lips, you could even see her dimples clearly.

As you flipped the sandwich again, the smell filled the small kitchen, and Tara found herself relaxing, slowly letting her guard down in this oddly comforting moment. It had been a long time since she’d experienced a night that felt spontaneous, even a little reckless.

When the sandwich was done, you cut it in half and handed it to her on a plate. “Wait to cool down—” Almost immediately, she bit into it, only to wince and fan her mouth.

“Oh, fuck, that’s hot!” she exclaimed, laughing through the pain between painful chews.

You stifled a laugh. “I literally just took it off the stove. What did you expect?”

“Oh, my God.”

“If you’re gonna be a lawyer, you gotta understand negligence and breach and…” She furrowed her eyebrows and turned her head to look up at you. “McDonald’s versus that lady’s…” You locked eyes with her, noticing her judgmental look. “Habeas corpus.”

Tara chuckled, swallowing carefully. “You absolutely just butchered those terms,” she said, narrowing her eyes and shooting you a mock glare. “Maybe I should represent you in a case against yourself.”

You were both facing each other, holding eye contact as you playfully teased her. “How do you know? You’re not a lawyer yet.” She gave you a disbelieving look. “It’s not too late to choose a more noble profession!”

“Oh, like you?” She nodded toward the computer desk you’d left on from working earlier. You took a bite of the sandwich and followed her gaze.

“You know what? You’re right. Stick with it. I’m gonna need a lawyer to read my contracts at some point.” She chuckled softly. Looking back at her, you smiled.

The two of you stood there, the playful banter bringing warmth to the room that neither of you had expected. She chewed more carefully now, and as she finished the bite, her gaze softened.

“I don’t even know if I want to be a lawyer,” Tara blurted, almost as if she hadn't meant to. She stared at the half-eaten sandwich in her hands, looking embarrassed. “I can’t believe I just said that out loud.”

You paused, unsure how to respond, but instead of words, you gently reached out and wiped a bit of cheese from the corner of her mouth with your thumb. The gesture was intimate, more so than you’d intended, and for a moment, the room seemed to grow quieter.

She sighed, her voice dropping. “My mom’s a lawyer. I thought maybe if I followed in her footsteps, things would make sense. But… I feel like it isn’t really me.”

There was a small silence, but instead of pressing, you just gave her a supportive nod. “You don’t have to figure it all out now.”

She smiled gratefully and took another bite, the tension lifting again as you both relaxed into the conversation. The two of you laughed, easing the awkwardness. You took another bite, an unconscious smile lingering on your face. With Tara around, you almost felt like a different person. She brushed the back of her hand where yours had touched, glancing back at you.

“I’m sorry… My life is a disaster right now.”

“Might be turning a corner,” you shrugged, showing compassion for her struggle, making eye contact again. “You just met me!”

Tara grinned. “Yeah, or I could end up in a suitcase.” You chuckled. “I mean… you’ve got some, uh, serial killer vibes going on here. Why do you have a giant wrench?” She pointed to the large wrench sitting on the vinyl rack. You looked at it and smiled.

“Okay, harsh,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “It wouldn’t be a suitcase. It would be a carry-on, thank you very much. You’re about zero feet tall,” you teased, referencing her small stature. She shot you a light glare, making you smile. You glanced back at the wrench. “And my mom gave me that.” At this, Tara raised her eyebrows, paying closer attention. “It’s a reminder that no matter how broken something is, there’s always a way to fix it.”

She nodded at your words, pressing her lips together and closing her eyes briefly.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m talking to you about my mom right now.” You squinted and shook your head, letting out a small chuckle.

Vulnerability hit you for a moment. You weren’t one to share much about your late mother with friends, let alone 'strangers' like Tara, but something about her made you feel at ease—like you could talk about the topic that usually tightened your chest.

Tara’s gaze softened. “No worries. That’s actually kind of sweet,” she smiled gently. “Now, tell me about that!” She pointed to an ATM machine in the corner, raising an eyebrow.

You smiled and nodded at the machine, which was in perfect condition, the screen still on. “That… is a long story!” You put your sandwich back on the plate and noticed her frowning at you. “Everybody survived!”

“Great!” She laughed, and you followed, the sound echoing through the small apartment. As the laughter died down, Tara took a deep breath, savoring the moment. She felt unexpectedly comfortable there—with you, in your quirky apartment, and with the smell of burnt cheese still lingering in the air.

In your mind, maybe that was the moment you started to hear romantic background music. You bickered and laughed together, even sharing a few silly dance moves in the kitchen after getting some water.

Tara eventually curled up on the sofa as you cleaned up the counter, chatting and laughing loudly from across the room. She teased you about your random quirks, and you responded with good-natured jabs, both of you secretly enjoying the strange, comforting ease. It didn’t take long for you to join her on the couch.

Letting the night unfold, an unexpected bond formed over random topics. Tara eventually settled on your lap, your hands resting on the skin of her waist beneath her silky shirt, facing you. The laughter slowly faded into quieter moments, one of you wrapped around the other. Lingering glances and more meaningful conversations pulled you closer until you both drifted off as dawn approached, feeling more at home than you had in a long time.

Soft morning light filtered through the large living room windows, casting a warm glow across the loft. Tara stirred and blinked awake, feeling a warm weight around her shoulders and waist. She found herself nestled against you, your arm draped over her, your breathing steady and calm.

But the quiet, comfortable intimacy triggered a rush of anxiety in her. Nudging her to move before things got too complicated. She knew she should say something, but no words came, and a sense of urgency pushed her to leave before things got more tangled.

Carefully, she slipped out from under your arm, holding her breath to keep from waking you. With deliberate silence, she stood up to put her shoes on, but one slipped from her hand and fell to the floor, betraying her. She winced and glanced back quickly, not seeing you stir from where she stood.

Your eyes blinked open as you took in the empty space beside you. You craned your neck toward the noise that had woken you, and your expression shifted from confusion to quiet disappointment as you watched her getting ready to leave without so much as a backward glance or goodbye. You held back the urge to say something, but the silence in the room felt suddenly heavy, filled with words left unsaid.

She walked down the stairs to the door, and as it clicked shut behind her, Tara hesitated for the briefest second, almost turning back. But then the weight of the moment became too much to bear. Meanwhile, you leaned back on the couch, staring at the empty space for a long moment, letting the silence settle over you like a heavy blanket.

Eventually, you got up, grabbing fresh clothes to wear before heading back to the living room. You tried to shake Tara from your mind, still feeling the ache of her sudden departure. But as you looked at the wrench, you almost stopped in your tracks. You walked over to it, picking it up in your hands and recalling how you had shared a part of your story that only your close friends knew. You thought Tara would stick around, at least for a while.

You didn’t have much more quiet time for introspection before you heard the door open. You turned your head so fast at the sound that you felt a slight disappointment upon realizing it was only your best friend.

His voice echoed up the stairs. “Yo, let's go, Y/N/N! Come on, cupcake! We’re gonna be late!”

“S'up, C?” You sat down in your computer desk chair, still not fully giving him your attention.

Chad stepped inside with his usual boisterous energy, walking around and dropping his bike helmet on the kitchen counter. He glanced at the skillet on the stove, noticing the remnants of last night's grilled cheese.

“Whoa. Did you cook? Wait… did you bring home a girl to stay over?” you didn’t respond, your eyes fixed on the large wrench in your hands, turning it over absentmindedly. Chad moved closer, munching on a leftover piece of grilled cheese as he gave you a puzzled look.

“Dude, what are you doing with that? Why do you have the giant wrench?” He took it from your hands, examining it. After a few seconds, he pieced it together. “Wait—You told her about your mom, bro? You never talk about your mom with anyone.” His tone softened.

You looked toward the door that he left open, a pained smile crossing your face as you didn’t disagree with his assumptions. “Yeah, I did. Not sure what I was thinking.”

Chad let out a low whistle, eyebrows raised. “Fuck. You’ve got it bad, don’t you? You’re in love!” He put the tool back in its place and turned back to you. “About freaking time, too. You’re totally in love!” He squealed the last part, unable to contain his excitement.

Trying to brush it off, you shook your head, a hint of bitterness coloring your tone. “Fuck that. Not that it matters. I couldn’t get her out of here fast enough.” You looked at him with a straight face, attempting to mask the sting of your words. “This girl’s a disaster… she’s a nothing.”

—

Minutes before slipping out of the house, Tara walked along the quiet sidewalk, pulling her phone from her pocket as she dialed Mindy. The line barely rang before Mindy picked up, her voice tinged with early morning sleepiness.

“Tara? What’s going on?”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Sorry to wake you. I just… I don’t know. Remember the person I met last night? They’re… so fucking great, Mindy. We kind of walked around the city, talked, and, I don’t know, we spent the night together and fell asleep talking. It felt… different. Like I didn’t have to keep my guard up.”

“Oh, it was like that, huh?” Mindy’s voice perked up, her interest piqued. “So, what happened after all that?”

A silence stretched between them as Tara paused on the sidewalk. She hesitated, her expression clouded with uncertainty. “I… I left before they woke up.”

Mindy groaned on the other end of the line. “What??? You’re kidding. Why would you just bail? If they’re as great as you’re saying…”

“I don’t know why! Why did I?” Tara blurted, stopping mid-step and glancing back in the direction she’d come from. “What the fuck am I doing? Should I go back?”

“Seems like you already know the answer,” Mindy said gently. “Just go! Find out what this is.”

“Okay, I love you. Bye!” Tara managed a small smile. “I'm so sorry I woke you up. This whole thing is so new to me. Bye!” Her footsteps quickened as she retraced her steps to the building.

“I love you, T. You’ve got this.” Mindy smiled before hanging up, hurrying her steps.

As Tara approached the door, she noticed it was open. Furrowing her eyebrows, she stopped in her tracks when she heard Chad’s familiar voice from inside. His back was facing her, so she didn’t know who the guy was. She certainly wasn’t prepared to hear your sharper tone following in disagreement about you being in love.

“I couldn’t get her out of here fast enough.” “This girl’s a disaster… She’s a nothing.”

The words landed with a crushing weight, stealing her breath and pinning her to the spot. She felt her chest tighten, a surge of hurt and anger rising within her as she turned on her heel and walked away, quickening her pace as if the farther she got, the less it would hurt. She’d let herself be vulnerable, just for a moment, and this was what it had gotten her.

She didn’t stop until she rounded the corner, the city coming to life around her—a stark reminder of the distance she intended to keep. She had allowed herself to believe, just for a moment, that maybe things could be different. But she wouldn’t make that mistake again.

—

Six months had passed since that fateful night, and neither you nor Tara had crossed each other’s paths again. The silence between you both was deafening, leaving nothing but the bitter ache of unfinished business. You had carried on, pretending that the encounter hadn’t left a mark, but you couldn’t shake the lingering memory of Tara slipping away without a word. Each time you tried to forget, the night resurfaced—like a song stuck on repeat. Every quiet moment felt like a reminder that you’d let something slip through your fingers, even if you wouldn’t admit it to yourself.

Tara, on the other hand, had moved on—at least, that’s what she told herself. She had rekindled her relationship with Wes, her first love, and now she was engaged to him once again. There was comfort in the familiar, in the steady future she thought they were meant to have. Yet, sometimes, late at night, when she was alone, Tara’s mind wandered back to that night with you. She hated herself for it. She’d tell herself it had been a mistake, a lapse in judgment, but that didn’t stop the quiet tug in her chest—a reminder of vulnerability, of something she couldn’t fully ignore. And so, she buried it deeper, clinging to Wes and the life they were building.

Still, neither of you had expected to meet again—until tonight.

The bar was alive with energy, the thrum of chatter and laughter filling the space. Mindy and Anika had orchestrated the night, inviting everyone out for a casual reunion. You and Chad arrived a little late, fresh from a lively Korean dinner, your usual laid-back attitude masking the subtle undercurrent of tension that had become all too familiar since that night. As you made your way through the bar, exchanging handshakes and hugs, your attention briefly flitted to the crowd. Anika grinned, subtly pointing out a group of attractive girls seated near the bar.

You raised an eyebrow and nudged Chad. “Looks like there’s potential,” you joked, but the moment was fleeting.

Across the room, Tara had just stepped through the door, her heart skipping a beat when she spotted her best friend waving her over. She smiled, though it faltered when her eyes scanned the faces in the crowd. Something about tonight felt off—familiar in a way she couldn’t quite place.

Mindy greeted her enthusiastically. “Tara! Get over here!” she called. Tara made her way over, her steps slowing slightly as her gaze settled on Chad… and then it clicked. You were there. Her pulse quickened.

Chad wrapped her in a hug before Mindy nudged him aside, beaming as she gestured between you and Tara. “Y/N, come say hi!” she called, oblivious to the growing tension. “Tara, meet one of my dearest childhood friends,” Anika added with a smile, making it clear that you and she shared a long history.

The second your eyes met Tara’s, the world seemed to stop. For a fleeting moment, neither of you moved, both taken aback by the unexpected confrontation. Tara’s chest tightened. How had you ended up here? She didn’t need this. Not tonight.

Your face hardened, instinctively putting up a wall. “Hey,” you said, your voice flat.

She crossed her arms, her tone equally sharp. “Yeah.”

Mindy’s brows shot up. “Wait, do you two… know each other?”

You answered too quickly. “We’ve met.”

“Barely.” Tara’s reply came just as fast. Her eyes narrowed, the distance between you two palpable.

Anika blinked in surprise. “That’s so random.”

Tara, visibly uncomfortable, nodded toward the bar. “I’m going to get a drink,” she muttered, ready to escape.

You couldn’t resist the smirk forming on your lips. “If you’re looking to sneak out, the exit’s that way. I know that’s kinda your thing.”

The law student spun back to face you, her smile cold. “Well, I am a disaster, right?” Her words were laced with venom, a bitter jab that struck deeper than either of you cared to admit.

The group fell into an uneasy silence, but it didn’t last long. Chad, Anika, and Mindy exchanged wary glances before Mindy spoke up, attempting to diffuse the situation. “Okay! Let’s… let’s move on from this.”

Anika quickly chimed in, “Yeah, let’s head back to the table,” motioning for Chad to follow, though their eyes never left the tension between you and Tara.

You faced each other, the weight of everything left unsaid hanging in the air. The banter between you both was sharp, but beneath it, something more vulnerable flickered. There had once been something here, something deeper than either of you wanted to admit, and even now, in the harshness of your words, that connection lingered—bitter but undeniable.

You leaned in, a smirk tugging at your lips. “So, you a lawyer yet?”

Tara’s arms crossed defensively, her eyes narrowing, trying to shield herself from whatever it was you made her feel. “Why? Do you need a defense attorney?”

“I’m just curious how you passed that class on ethics,” you shot back, your tone cutting but with a hint of something softer beneath the surface. “You know, with all the bailing you do on people.”

Her jaw tightened, but something in her eyes flickered—something that said she understood exactly what you meant. It stung, more than either of you would let on.

Meanwhile, at the table, Chad plopped down, looking confused as ever. Mindy snorted, leaning back in her seat, her eyes darting between you and Tara. “I think that’s the alleged jerk who T got with when she was on her break from Wes.”

Anika’s eyes widened as the pieces clicked together. “No way. So T’s the party girl who ghosted them?”

Chad, still lost in thought, nodded slowly. “I thought she looked familiar when I saw her that day… but, you know, I don’t really see faces. I just see souls.”

Anika chuckled softly, shaking her head. “At least they made her realize Wes was the one, right?”

Back at the war field where you and Tara stood, the tension reached a boiling point. Tara’s jaw clenched as she held her left hand up, displaying the ring—a symbol of the life she was trying so hard to convince herself she wanted. “I’m engaged now,” she said sharply, the words coming out more like a challenge than a statement.

Your expression barely flickered, but deep down, something twisted inside—a pang of something you refused to name. “Good for you,” you replied, forcing a dry smile. “Where are you registered? I’ll buy you a broomstick.”

She scoffed, but her smile was tight, forced. “I’ll send you an invite. You still live at 28 Fuckboy Lane?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, shaking your head. “You do remember. See, it did mean something to you.”

For a moment, something dark and raw flickered in Tara’s eyes, and she took a step closer, her voice dropping to a low whisper filled with venom and regret. “You’ll always be my rock bottom. The night I spent with a bitch.”

Across the bar, Chad squinted, trying to make sense of the distant conversation. “Did she just call Y/N a bitch?”

Anika leaned closer to Mindy, whispering, “Do you think they’re going to physically fight?”

Mindy smirked, her gaze flicking between the two of you. “Or fuck. That’s a fine line.”

Back at the standoff, Tara’s words softened, though the bitterness still lingered. “Let’s just get through tonight for them, okay?”

You gave her a slow nod, your face unreadable but your heart tight. “Fine. I’m getting a drink, and I’ll toast to never seeing you again.” Your words were sharp, but the way you leaned closer, the tension buzzing between you, said otherwise.

Tara met your eyes, her lips curling into a slight, almost playful smile. “Cheers to that, bro.”

You were nearly nose-to-nose, the heat of your proximity almost suffocating when Mindy, Anika, and Chad appeared at your sides, gently pulling you both out of the intensity of the moment.

Mindy spoke first, her voice cutting through the tension with excitement. “Hey, guys, listen up. We actually have some big news.”

Anika’s eyes sparkled as she squeezed Mindy’s hand. “Hey, so the reason we brought you all together—we’re getting married. In Australia. And you’re all coming with us!” The couple squealed frantically.

Both you and Tara blinked in shock, the animosity between you momentarily forgotten, replaced by a different kind of weight. Australia. A wedding. A trip where you would all be together—where you would have to see each other, to deal with everything that still lay between you. There was no running from it now. You were bound by your friends, by the promises of a wedding that would force you both to face what had been left unresolved.

The room seemed to close in, and though the words hung unsaid, you both knew that this was only the beginning of a confrontation you couldn’t escape. For better or worse, you were going to have to deal with each other—whether you liked it or not.

[spenceobsessed]

post prison!spencer reid x fem!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, smut with a plot

summary: spencer can't help but despise his "replacement", especially during an undercover mission in a nightclub.

MDNI 18+

“this is insane.” penelope garcia mutters on the other end of the phone call. “there’s no way jeffery was able to absolutely take himself off the internet.” she huffs, the keyboard clicking in the background. “i’m gonna keep working. i’ll be back in a jiffy, i swear!” she says sweetly before hanging up.

the unsub, jeffery hogan had abducted then murdered four young women in los angeles california. the team had been in la for three days now, and jeffery had already killed two more women before they could stop him. all of them were getting antsy and a little angry.

you sigh, leaning back in your chair as the rest of the team begins talking amongst themselves, minus spencer, who had been staring at a map for twenty minutes.

“reid.” you say, catching his attention. he doesn’t look up, but you can tell that your voice startled him slightly.

“hmm?” he says, annoyance lacing his tone. you roll your eyes. he had been an absolute dick to you since day one. the whole team had described him as a saint, yet, you couldn’t see it. yes, he was attractive, but that didn’t distract from how hateful he was towards you. plus, you had been nothing but nice to him when you first met him, doing nothing to get on his bad side.

“did you make a connection between the locations?” you ask curtly. he huffs. “i don’t see you doing anything helpful.” he snaps, finally looking up from his map to glare at you.

“spence,” jj begins, joining the conversation unknowingly. “any connections?” he smiles and turns to face her, like you hadn’t just asked the same question.

“the one common location that overlaps with all the crime scenes and significant places in jeffery’s life is the ‘night owl’, a local night club.” reid says, smirking at you when he finishes his sentence like a teenager. you scoff.

emily gives them a look that says “act professional please”.

“we have no idea what he looks like, we only know bits and pieces of his life that garcia could dig up, how are we going to catch him?” matt asks, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, a coffee in hand.

“i could go undercover,” you begin with a shrug. “most of the girls he abducted have been around my age and have my same features.” emily nods in agreement.

“one issue.” rossi says. “the unsub has always abducted women on dates.” you nod. that’s true.

“i could go with you.” matt says, standing up straight and taking a sip of his coffee. you open your mouth to thank him but emily cuts you off.

“no offense simmons, but what if we sent in reid instead? he closer matches y/n’s age and resembles the victims boyfriends more closely.”

spencer opens his mouth to protest but tara cuts him off with a smile. “great idea, you guys should leave in an hour or so, you better start getting ready.”

you watch as reid fights the urge to say something rude, but is quickly whisked away by emily.

jj helps you get ready in another conference room of the precinct, dressing you like the average clubber.

your outfit is a small, tight, red mini dress, with matching heels and accessories. you had to admit, you looked good. you found yourself wondering what they had put reid in and whether he would find you attractive in this tight dress.

“you look amazing.” a voice breaks you out of your trance as you’re putting in an ear piece. you smile, turning to face emily.

“thank you.” you say softly, using your hands to smooth out your dress. “i think i’m ready.” you add, slightly nervous. emily reassures you that you will do great and asks you to follow her outside.

that’s where you’re met with spencer reid. he looks unfortunately handsome, hot even, wearing the most casual “spencer outfit” you have ever seen: corduroy pants, converse, and a white button down. the white button down was sheer linen (very beachy) and allowed you to barely see his chest. you quickly remind yourself that he is in fact a dick, hoping that will somehow make him less attractive.

you watch as his eyes wander your body. emily seems to notice and clears her throat.

“you guys gotta get going.” she breathes out a smirk on her face.

reid walks over to the side of the car. you smile slightly as he opens the door, your smile fading as he slides in alone slamming the door behind him.

“petty bitch.” you mutter. your heels angrily clicking against the asphalt as you walk to the other side of the suv, ripping open the door and sliding in with your arms crossed. you slam the door behind yourself, eyes glaring into the side of reid’s face.

“look,” you begin, your tone angry. “if this is going to work you need to at least try to pretend not to be a fucking asshole.” he scoffs, turning to face you.

“watch your tone.” he says lowly, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. your arms are still crossed and you watch as spencer’s eyes go from your face to your tits, then back up again.

you remind yourself that indeed, he's just a man. he may be a genius but behind that, he’s simply just a man with needs. you were going to make tonight hell for him.

you smirk, eyes glaring into his. “do your fucking job and i just might comply, doctor.”

he turns his head away from you, staring out the window, a new type of tension in the air.

“can you guys hear me?” jj says through you ear pieces. “yeah.” reid says, you can hear how angry he is, just through one word.

the team gives you both a rundown and reminds you both of your parts.

“…remember you’re a couple!” garcia reminds you. the team agrees loudly on the line. “yeah,” alvez says. “pretend to like each other for one night.”

“we’ll try, alvez.” you reply as the suv pulls up in front of the busy nightclub.

you look over at reid. “open my damn door and look like you fucking mean it.” you say through gritted teeth. he doesn’t respond as he steps out of the car, shutting his door quietly and makes his way over to your side of the car. he opens your door with a fake smile on his face, putting out his hand for you to grab. you get out of the car, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“grab my waist.” you demand. he huffs under his breath, reaching his large hand to rest on your waist. he leans in to whisper back. “you will not dictate this night. i have over ten more years of experience than you, on this team. you do not get to boss me around, y/l/n.” he says through gritted teeth, pulling away from your ear with a fake smile on his face. you don’t have time to respond as he says; “let’s go, baby.”

the nickname hits you like a brick, especially the way it comes out of his mouth so effortlessly. in an attempt to control your composure, you smile and lean against him as he rubs his hand lovingly across your waist.

you both enter the night club, the mix of bright lights and darkness temporarily blinds you as you grip onto spencer for support.

“don’t respond, but we see you’ve made it inside. go grab a drink from the bar then hit the dance floor.” emily orders. spencer nods, leading you towards the busy bar.

as you approach the bar, the bartender asks what you both want. “i’ll have a club soda with lime.” spencer says, turning his head to look down at you. “what do you want, baby?” he asks, rubbing circles on your waist softly. you smile back up at him pretending like you don’t want to kill him and subtly dig your ass into his crotch. he sucks in a breath.

“i’ll have a vodka soda.” you say with a sweet smile on your face. the bartender nods going to make the drinks.

you look back at spencer, his jaw clenched and his breathing heavy. you set your phone down on the bar and “accidentally” knock it off of the counter.

“oops!” you say dryly, bending down to pick it up, your ass now rubbing against his crotch. you subtly feel something twitch in his pants.

“y/n.” he warns you. you nod innocently. “hmm?” you hum. he moves his hand from your waist. you look back at him to silently scold him, but he quickly uses both hands to push you away from his crotch. he slides his hands down your waist, to your ass, then pulls down your dress in one quick motion. a man standing to his left begins complaining loudly about how he can no longer see your "fattie". you almost thank him, then remember that its fucking spencer you're dealing with.

he doesn’t say anything and simply hands you your drink, leading you away from the bar and the creepy men, to a nearby table.

you bite your lip to hold back hateful words that dare to spill out. you stand in silence, spencer sipping his drink while you chug yours.

"you look miserable." emily says in your ears. "do something." she adds.

"wanna dance, pretty boy?" you ask him, the nickname falling from your mouth accidentally. you pretend like it was on purpose as spencer looks up from his drink, slightly stuttering over his response.

"y-yeah, yeah." he repeats, regaining his composure. he grabs your hand and leads you towards the crowd of sweaty people dancing, only looking back once to make sure you were still there

spencer scans the crowd as he pulls you into his chest harshly.

"i'm not just some doll you can throw around, reid." you yell over the music, sick of his bullshit. he looks you in the eyes and shrugs.

as the song changes, couples around you begin to make out.

"kiss me, reid." you say, realizing the awkward dancing in a crowd of horny couples would defer the unsub's attention. spencer doesn't seem to hear you. "reid." you repeat, his eyes still scanning the room. "spencer." you say, the first time you've ever said his first name to him. this catches his attention. his gaze finally falls to you, his frame towering over yours as you wrap your arms around his neck.

"i need you to kiss me, spencer."

the usually dick-ish man makes no cocky response. instead, he simply tips his head down capturing your lips in a kiss. the kiss is awkward at first, but quickly turns heated as you press your body against his. his hands, which were loosely on your waist move downward, rubbing circles on your ass and somehow moving you closer to him.

you run your hands through his hair, feeling him moan softly into your mouth. his sweet noises immediately go straight to your now-wet-core. you break the kiss for a second, to catch your breath, your faces still inches apart.

spencer's pupils are blown, his hair is messy, and his lips slightly swollen, tinted red from your lipstick. fuck, you want to devour him.

spencer quickly resumes the kiss, this time you don't have to ask. you easily feel how hard he is already, with his cock pressed against your leg.

you groan softly as you push your tongue into his mouth, eliciting more sweet noises from the handsome man.

"nice job guys, we have a suspect at 3 o'clock." emily says into our ears, reminding us that we aren't alone.

“let’s go somewhere more secluded.” spencer whispers, his breath hot on your cheek. he wants to lure the unsub out. you nod, waiting for him to move. instead his hands are still on your ass, his eyes on you, like he’s taking a mental picture.

“pretty boy.” you say almost inaudibly. “let’s go.” he spins you around so you’re in front now, able to maneuver your way out of the crowd. one of his hands rests on the small of your back protectively as you head towards the back corner of the club, a stark contrast to the way he was treating you less than 10 minutes ago.

“the hypothetical unsub’s eyes are still on you guys but he hasn’t moved, we can’t seem to see his face on camera. you need to get him to move closer.” jj announces in your ears.

“she’s telling us to kiss again.” you whisper. he nods, placing his large hand on your cheek and swiping his thumb across your lips. you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into kiss him. he picks you up slightly, just enough to allow you to sit on him as he takes a seat on a random couch.

as he moves from kissing your lips to your jaw and neck, you instinctively begin rocking your hips against his, feeling how hard he is under you.

he groans softly against your neck, his kisses becoming sloppier.

“y/n.” his tone desperate, the use of your first name alarming. “if you keep going i might not be able to maintain professionalism.”

you bite your lip excitedly. “do you want me to stop then, spencer?” his eyes stare into yours, his hands on your hips.

“no.” he breathes out, pulling you closer to him and kissing you again. he moves his hands upwards as his lips move downwards, slowly leaving kisses and rubbing your now-visible nipples through the thin fabric for your dress. you suck in a breath at the new sensation, your head thrown back in ecstasy.

“the unsub moved into the light, it’s jeffery. sending alvez and rossi in now to apprehend him. you guys can stand down, nice work.” emily says, startling them slightly. you pull away from spencer, your underwear undeniably wet and your cunt begging for attention. you awkwardly remove yourself from his lap, sitting next to him on the sofa, noticing that in fact he was hard, an outline of his dick highlighted in the odd club lighting. he squirms in his seat slightly, obviously trying to readjust.

“y/n,” he says, noticing your eyes on him. you hum in response, your eyes moving from his cock to his face. “bathroom.” he says simply.

he doesn’t give you an opportunity to respond, simply getting up and leaving the room. you wait for a few seconds, processing his words and attempting to wrap your head around the fact that an hour ago you hated this man and now you were dying for him to fuck you.

a few minutes pass and you make your way to the bathroom where you don’t even knock, you simply walk in. spencer is there waiting. immediately as you enter the bathroom, he locks it, then attached his lips to yours. you moan softly into the kiss, jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist. he, however, seems to as other plans as he sets you down on the sink and lowers himself between your legs.

he leaves soft kisses up your thighs, your legs now thrown over his shoulders. “spencer,” you beg, his lips dangerously close to your cunt. “please.”

he smiles as you beg, hooking his finger on your underwear and pulling them down your legs roughly. he lowers his head farther in between your legs, licking a slow stripe down your cunt, causing you to squeeze your legs around his head and moan.

hearing your reaction, spencer moans softly against your pussy, the vibrations making you gasp.

unfortunately the club music had been turned off and if anyone were to walk by, they would probably hear you making sounds. you cover your mouth with your hand to make sure you guys don’t get caught.

he moves his tongue farther into you, the sound of his mouth on your soaking wet cunt making lewd sounds that fill the small bathroom.

you moan into your hand, bucking your hips against his face.

he pulls his mouth away from you and without skipping a beat he inserts one of his large fingers into you, grinding his crotch against the edge of the sink to get himself off.

you open your mouth to tease him but he interrupts you by adding another finger into your pussy. you can’t help but moan loudly, feeling your walls clench around his fingers.

“so good for me.” he says breathlessly, his fingers’ pace rough inside you and his hips fast against the sink counter.

“spencer,” you say in between ragged breaths. “i’m so close!” he smiles at your words, removing his fingers from your pussy with a pop.

you groan softly, hating the feeling of emptiness.

“spencer.” you warn, sitting up to get a good look at him. he has a look in his eye, a smirk on his face.

“what’s up?” he says nonchalantly, licking you off his lips and his fingers. you ask yourself how he can be so calm when he was literally just finger fucking you and eating you out. his cock is still dangerously hard, a spot of pre-cum on his cute little pants. you catch yourself imagining how big he is.

“fine.” you huff, seeing how he didn’t seem like he wanted you to finish. you insert your own fingers into your swollen cunt, pumping them inside yourself like spencer had been only a minute ago.

you over exaggerate your moans watching as spencer begins to rub himself through his now tight pants.

“i’m not going to beg you, pretty boy, but i need your cock inside of me right now.” he smirks at your words, making his way back over to you, hands moving to your face, kissing you passionately.

“i’m pretty sure that was begging, y/n.” he says as he pulls away from the kiss, beginning to unbutton his pants.

however, loud knocks interrupt him. "spencer?? are you in there??" emily's familiar voice, fills the room.

"uh, yeah! i'll be out in a second!" he says, beginning to re-button his pants, his cock still visibly hard. emily says something inaudible from the other side of the door then walks away. you lean forward on the sink counter, resting your head on spencer's shoulder, his arms wrapping around you.

after a second of peace, you hop of the counter in an attempt to fix your appearance, sliding back on your awkwardly soaked underwear.

"can we please finish this later?" spencer speaks up, catching you off guard. you smile, your brain still processing the fact that an hour ago you wanted to kill this man.

"yes, please."

part 2 :)

[sweetsaladpainterranch]

The Rival

Summary: Alastor sought to possess one of the only does in Pentegram City for the rut season, however, you wanted a mate, not a master. But what happens when a handsome new buck shows up one day and tries to capture your attention away from the Radio Demon. Who will you choose?

(Just some practice at writing drama but I hope you enjoy)

You weren't stupid. You knew that Alastor would call upon you only because he needed a warm body to ride out his rut and not out of any naive sense of romance. Every few months you'd receive an unsurprising visit from the Radio Demon casually resting in your hotel room before whisking you off for a vigorous week of reliving both of your heats. His earthy pheromones having triggered your own. It was usually obvious when Alastor would arrive because you could always feel fiery red eyes on your form and often noticed a dark presence shifting around in your peripheral vision. Of course, this would have freaked you out but it was also nice that you didn't have to go out of your way to avoid the numerous male cervid demons suffering through their own rut cycles of the season. Having never seen another female deer demon, you realized you were probably in for a bad time if one of those desperate bastards got a hold of you. So you didn't mind a little extra security as you went about your business. 

The very moment you walked through your door, an almost overwhelming scent of a warm, mossy, musk invaded your senses as waves of static washed over you. "Ah, there's my pretty doe. How was your day out my love?", Alastor greeted you in his typical cheery voice that made your heart flutter, but you knew the sweet-sounding pet name was only a product of his possessive manipulation. He knew very well how you reacted to his charm and he had no qualms about using it to gain your sexual compliance. "Oh, you know, quiet as Hell can be." You sat across from him on an armchair and smirked at the bittersweet domestic feeling as his shadow appeared next to you with a tea cup and a small bowl of sugar cubes. You scratched its shadowy scalp with gratitude as you took the offered drink, "And thank you for the company lately", you cooed to its delighted purrs. 

Alastor cleared his throat to get both of your attention as he began, "Yes, well”, he suddenly appeared in front of your chair and bent down to your eye level, "your protection would prove much easier if you would simply make a deal with me so that all of those pathetic weaklings would know who you belonged to." You didn't miss how his voice deepened into a static-filled threat but that didn't stop you from brushing away his outstretched hand as you stood up to put away your things. Of course, Alastor had been trying to get you to agree to a deal since the beginning of your...relationship(?), however, you had seen and known many people who deeply regretted making a deal with him. You knew he only wanted the same thing as every other cervid guy, regardless of how you felt about him. He didn't want a mate to love and protect. He wanted to possess the rare commodity of a breedable doe for himself.

 "I don't belong to anyone, Alastor.", you snapped, "You already give me protection from other males in exchange for my working you through your heat." He let out a dismissive chuckle when you shimmied your ample chest, but you saw the slight blush creeping across his face at the visions likely dancing through his mind. 

God, sometimes you wished there were more women deer around so that you could just live your fucking afterlife in peace. (But then, what if you'd never met Alastor and he had found another to see his ruts through?)

***

As you both headed downstairs to dinner, Alastor more so following you as was his habit during the season, you could hear Charlie loudly speaking to someone.

"Great! Well let's head o-", she was cut off by your entrance into the lobby which revealed a large figure sporting an impressive set of thick antlers. You could feel Alastor stiffen and tighten his hold on your shoulders. The scent of the visitor told you why. It was definitely another male deer, also nearing his heat like Alastor, and it was obvious that he must've followed your feminine smell here. Charlie began to walk towards you with a large smile, "Oh, hey there! I was actually just about to show our newest guest", she gestured in the stranger’s direction, "a tour and I'd love you to join us as other deer demons." She had a hopeful bounce in her step, "This is James.", who nodded and began to look you up and down with intensity. 

"Yes, I'm very interested in what your hotel may offer, Ms. Charlie." He was wearing a loose-fitting flannel shirt with his sleeves rolled up and a pair of worn jeans, but you could tell that he was absolutely jacked. His forearms alone looked like freaking tree trunks and he was easily taller than even Alastor with an equally enticing scent that made your stomach flip. James had begun to move further in your direction, however, a loud growl ripped through the lobby as ear-splitting static made everyone turn to its source behind you. 

"I'm afraid we've no vacancies at the moment.", he snarled, "Allow me to escort you towards the exit." Alastor had already begun to grow into his demonic form and used his shadow tendrils to violently eject the large buck onto the front lawn before anyone could make a sound. 

Charlie quickly darted after the two males, followed by you, only to be confronted by an impossibly odd sight. James stood tall without a scratch or sign of fear on him in the face of a giant, demonic Alastor. He even looked like he was all too happy to clap back with a strong, demonic aura of his own. However, the princess halted Alastor's intended strike with a burst of flames and a disappointed comment at his attitude towards a potential guest. And immediately apologized to James as she whirled around him checking for injuries, but none were to be found. 

Did Alastor take it easy on this guy? Why? He's always simply killed potential rival suitors, this one in his territory no less, so, why was he still alive?!

Charlie returned to the lobby, leading James by his massive arm, and proceeded to ask, a very pissed-looking, Alastor to fix the now broken doors as she led the two of you on a tour of the hotel. You could feel both James' smile and Alastor's silent rage boring into the back of your head as you walked with a clueless Charlie.

***

The intense air of murderous intent in between the two male cervids had only gotten worse over the next week after freaking deer Paul Bunion was placed in a room next to yours, which was across from Alastor’s. Charlie thought you'd be able to better connect another deer demon and maybe help him if needed, though she had no idea about the conflict she had placed in your lap.

James commented, during a group share circle, that he assumed that he was a Canadian reindeer, who was relatively new to Hell. He also made it clear that he simply didn't know, or care, who the Radio Demon was. The two constantly locked horns, both physically and metaphorically as the countdown to the rutting season was running out. You also found out through Angel Dust that Alastor was absolutely forbidden from using his power to injure a resident of the hotel. 

Which you assumed was why he didn't simply wipe James off the concrete outside like a pancake off a hot griddle. 

However, this didn't stop Alastor from staking his claim on you in other ways. For instance, he always had to have a hand on you somewhere. On your knee during group talks on the lobby couch, on your shoulder while you ate a meal, and on your lower back when he walked you from room to room. James didn’t seem to give too much of a fuck as he frequently kept at your other side and proceeded to continuously compliment you, give you small gifts, or make a particularly chapped joke that you couldn’t help but giggle and blush at. Of course, that usually resulted in being pulled closer into Alastor’s side away from the other male as he snarled and rubbed his face into your hair to try and mark you with his scent.  

You couldn’t lie. You very much enjoyed the attention of the two strong males as they vied for your affection and mating rights.

One early morning, while Alastor was forced to leave your side, in order to attend an overlord meeting, James found you in your rose garden behind the hotel and offered to help you plant your new buds. After a few minutes of digging and placing the rose roots, he spoke up, “Can I ask if youse and Alastor are an item?”. He smiled at your blushing expression and continued, “Not to offend ma’am, but I’d like to show you what a true buck is.”

Your eye twitched a bit at the insult towards Alastor, but you remained calm, “It's… complicated between us.”. James simply leaned in and smiled encouragingly, “Alastor isn’t exactly into relationships, but he takes care of me during the rut season.” 

“What about the rest of the time?”, he asked while bringing his face practically an inch from yours, “Does he make you feel like the forest queen you are? Or does he simply forget you until he needs something from you?” His steel eyes brightened in victory at your affirming face toward his questions, “I-I…um…”, you tried to defend your reasons for continuously coming back to Alastor again and again even though he couldn't care less about you during the rest of the year. 

He held your hand tenderly in one of his, while also cupping your cheek with the other and whispered, “Let me give you what you deserve, sweetheart. Love not possession. Tenderness, not indifference.” You were so absolutely enthralled by his deep voice and his potent musk that you could only stare blankly as he finally leaned in and softly pressed his lips against your own.

***

Hey, Again this is just some drama and relationship writing practice for a beginner class I'm taking.

-SSPR

[luveline]

Hi Jade! I had an idea for a request! I was thinking about reader with a really low sex drive and maybe one day she starts to get a little worried and insecure about it and one of the boys just reassures her that he doesn’t care about it<3 idk if that made sense but write for whatever boy you want to I don’t have a preference love you 😚

How Remus, James and Sirius would comfort you when you worry your low libido is a problem. fem, 2.2k

❥ Remus 

Remus sits with his legs crossed in the corner of the settee, a book open on his thigh, though his attention has been caught and kept by the TV. 

You think some grovelling may be in order after last night. Quiet, you round the settee and climb onto the seat next to his, body turned away from the TV, arm creeping onto his thigh. 

“Hi,” he says. 

“Hi.” 

He encourages you closer, leaning back to give you room to lie on him. His right arm does most of the work to keep you up, sandwiching you to his chest, an almost not quite hug. “What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“How do you know something is wrong?” 

He taps your back with his fingers, looking up at the ceiling with a sarcastic smile. “What could it be?” 

The hints of green in his irises are more pronounced when he’s sitting in the sun like this, rays cutting in through the window, turning his pale skin slightly tanned and his hair a warmer chestnut colour that curls behind his ears. The scar on his lip relaxes as his joking smile fades to a proper one, a lovey-dovey type that melts you. It’s nice to be looked at so nicely, like just the sight of you inspires happiness. 

You shift off of your legs, deciding you might as well lay flat with your head in his lap instead. He lets you sink down. His hand takes up station near your cheek, the back of his curled fingers brushing the skin just shy of your eye. 

“This is nice,” he whispers. 

“I have to say sorry,” you whisper back, drawing shapes into his t-shirt, the soft muscle of his stomach pillowy to poke. 

Remus nods emphatically. “Yes, you didn’t come and see me as soon as you woke up. I heard you on your phone in bed. That’s not very nice, is it, depriving me of your company?” 

You shake your head into his thigh, a slow, guilty movement. “No, about last night.” 

“What about last night?” 

Last night, Remus had given you a very slow kiss. He’d been half asleep and you’d been more so, but it was a lovely kiss and his hand had been rubbing sweet half circles into your hip, but it still made you feel awful when he asked if he could touch you and you’d told him you were too tired, even if he didn’t mind. He’d just kissed your cheek and snuggled into you like a life-sized teddy bear. He never takes your rejection as an insult. 

“You… you wanted to fuck and I didn’t, I’m sorry. I feel like every time you ask lately I say no.” 

Remus frowns at you. Deep frown, eyebrows pinching and brown eyes bordering sullen. His fingers uncurl over your cheek and cover your ear as he cups your face. “I don’t want you to be sorry. The reason I ask is so you can say no, you can always say no.” 

“I kiss you, and I wind you up, and then I can’t–”

“Which I enjoy. You don’t have to worry about that.” He leans down to kiss you but doesn’t fully get there, your noses touching, and then he’s leaning away again. “Please don’t say sorry. You know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

“I know that. I’m not trying to make you into the bad guy.” 

Remus taps your nose with his and leans in again. “I know you’re not. You aren’t one either. Sex is just another fun thing to do, okay? If you don’t want to, that shouldn’t bother me, and it doesn’t. I promise.” 

You curl your arms around his neck. He lifts his head, subsequently lifting you as he moves, his arm curling behind your back for a hug. 

“Sometimes I want more of you than you want to give,” he says, “but it’s just because I love you, not because I need it. Don’t be silly, dove. Don’t say sorry.” 

He presses the heel of his palm to your back and begins the heavy pressure of a back rub. You won’t say sorry if he doesn’t want you to. You shouldn’t anyways. But he’s your boyfriend and you love him, so his being accepting of it is a relief. 

Like he can read your mind, he says, “You never have to say sorry for this.” 

“I know.” You lift your chin. “Kiss?” 

Remus kisses you quickly before tucking you into his neck for a long hug. 

❥ James

“You’re beautiful.” 

You’re boiling. James doesn’t notice, kissing and kissing and kissing, your neck flushed with his touch and his murmured compliment. “James.” 

He tilts his head, weaving in on the other side of your neck to give it the same loving treatment. “Pretty doesn’t cover it,” he says in a rush, his teeth scratching dully up to your jaw, his kissing like nips without any pain behind them as he reaches your cheek. 

You catch his face in your hands and push him away gently. It’s so hot in here you can’t breathe, and you’re not in the mood for any further action. It’s funny. You adore his kisses and James is undeniably a good fuck, but your libido is low no matter how pretty your boyfriend is, or how pretty he finds you. You’d always wondered if that meant there was something wrong with you. 

James doesn’t seem to think so. 

“Sorry,” he says, beaming, “that’s enough, right?” 

You feel a weird sharp stab in your chest. “Sorry?” 

“I’m getting ahead of myself.” James sits up where he’d been lying on top of you, having manoeuvred such a position in the midst of all his warm kisses. He sits back on his calves, kneeling in the space between your legs, a hand falling instead to your knee. “It’s fucking hot in here, isn’t it?” 

“Sorry.” 

“Did you make it hot?” 

You look at your hand on your chest. He’s noticed you don’t want to take it any further, you hardly ever do. You knew he’d see that eventually. You have the libido of a panda, where James is an athletic young man who loves you. 

“No, I mean. I’m sorry, because I never want to when you want to.” 

Your serious tone surprises him. “Baby, what the fuck are you talking about?” he asks. “I am so lost.” 

“Just– Most of the time when you try to sleep with me I turn you down. You know already.” 

“Baby, that doesn’t matter.” He leans in again, only to hold your wrists, two big hands curled around your arms to stop your fidgeting. Two pet names in quick succession is unlike him, and it relaxes you before he’s begun to explain. “It doesn’t matter at all. Just makes it better when we do manage to want it at the same time.” 

You grimace. “Are you sure?” 

“You want me to be honest?” 

You’re not sure. “Yeah. Please be honest.” 

“Sometimes we kiss and you know I want you,” his eyes dart down, prompting a surprised laugh from you, and an easy chuckle from him in return, “and it’s frustrating, but it’s not ‘cos of you. I can go shower and sort myself out and it’s not the same as being with you, but it’s not your fault. It’s just a reaction.” 

“But I feel bad for making you deal with it yourself.” 

“What are you supposed to do? You can’t force yourself if you’re not in the mood. That’s the last thing I want you to do. I’d rather have it fall off.” 

You laugh again. James’ smile is glowing, and warm as he presses it to your wrist in a chaste kiss. “We can do other things. If you feel that badly about it, you can give me a scalp massage, please. You shouldn’t feel badly about it, but still. If you’re okay with it, I’d love one.” 

He presses his cheek to your chest in want of your hand. 

You press your fingertips to his hairline and weave your fingers into the roots of his soft hair, shaking them, nails scratching lightly at his scalp like you know he likes. “How’s that?” you ask. 

“Better than sex.” He is unmistakably sincere. 

❥ Sirius 

“Did you lock the door?” 

Sirius hums. 

“Close the kitchen window?” 

“I did,” he says, waving your hand gently where he’s holding it between you both. You lay straight in bed with the duvet up to your chests and the TV playing one of his favourite movies. 

“Okay. Did you take your medication?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart. Everything’s done. You can relax.” 

You pick your book up and open it to the first page. You’ve been meaning to read this one for a while, you’re happy to get the time, but you’re feeling queasy about something. 

Sirius is a loud guy. He loves the glitz and glamour of life, he likes to go out, play fast and hard, he’s electric most of the time. He can be quiet, too, like you tend to be, but you’re worried that you’re another night closer to him deciding he’s bored. It’s been weeks since you went anywhere, and you haven’t fucked in almost as long. 

“Can I have this?” he asks, pulling your hand to his lips. 

You smile as he kisses your knuckles, barely there presses of his lips to your skin that linger. 

“You haven’t turned a page yet.” 

“It’s hard to start,” you tell him. 

“What’s it about? Fantasy?” 

“No, just a romance, I think.” 

“I like your romances. You read the complicated ones with the good love, like ours.” 

It’s a very nice thing to say, even if you’re not sure how he knows what romance you’re reading. He enjoys listening to you talk about books when they’re done, so perhaps the details have sunk in.

You let the book flop to the side and curl up around your joined hands. “I love you,” you say. 

He curls into you in return, “You should. That was a good line,” he says teasingly. “I love you too, my girl.” He speaks it with a quiet, gentle cadence that suits him and the pet name well. “Lift your head. Wanna see you.” 

You angle your face up to give him a view of the half that isn’t hidden by the sheets. “I’m so boring.” 

“Says who?” 

“Everybody, probably. All we do is watch TV and sleep.” 

“Good thing I love both of those things.” He wraps an arm around you, palm to your shoulder. “And it’s not true. We went to the cafe yesterday after work. On the weekend, we’re going to the cinema. Why, do you want to do more?” 

“It’s not me I’m worried about, Siri. Aren’t you bored?” 

He stares at you. Long, non-judgmental looking, his dark lashes kissing in the corners as his gaze wanders down to your neck. “Is this about something else?” 

“No.” 

His mouth turns sympathetic, a wobbly frown. “Are you sure, lovely? You can talk to me.” 

You weigh each word as you say it, determined not to embarrass yourself, “I’m worried that I don’t make your life very interesting. We don’t go out much, we don’t drink, and I never…” 

You turn your face down, your forehead to his chest. Sirius hums unhappily and encourages your head back to see you again almost immediately. “You never what?” he asks. 

“Never mind.” 

“No, please. Tell me, Y/N. You can tell me anything, I won’t care.” He’s getting so serious about it and it’s making it even more embarrassing than before, but you don’t want him to worry. You spit it out. 

“I don’t put out. We hardly ever have sex.” 

“Does that upset you?” he asks. 

“Well. It upsets me if it upsets you.” 

“It doesn’t.” His hand cups your cheek, his forehead drops down to yours. “It doesn’t upset me. Did I make you think that?” 

“You’re just so cool and I’m your loser.”

He laughs happily. “You’re my loser,” he agrees. 

“The last couple of times I’ve said no. I guess I just worry you want more than I’m giving out, so. I don’t want you to wish we were having more sex, but I can’t make myself want it more.” 

“I see.” 

You listen to him breathing, the warmth of his exhale like a kiss all its own as it fans over your mouth.

He rubs your cheek with his thumb. “Can I tell you what I think?” You nod, and he continues, “I only want to have sex with you, that’s one of the consequences of being in love. It’s a good one. So if you don’t wanna have sex, it’s safe to say I don’t want to either. Okay? Love you just as much with or without it.” 

Unlike him and not to be this tender. You bite the inside of your lip.

“Promise?” you ask. 

“I promise.” 

[suiana]

(yandere! foreign exchange student x gn! reader) (thanks for 8k 😍😍)

"can you stop being so annoying?"

"what?"

he stares at you with a raised eyebrow, pouting as he rests his cheek on his palm. with both arms propped up on the table, he reaches out his other arm towards you. obviously you back away in disgust at his affection... and you can't help but notice the way he narrows his eyes at your reaction.

he, as in, your annoying buddy. hiroto yamada, your buddy for the foreign exchange program which you were unwillingly made to participate in.

you knew bad things would happen when you saw the program, yet you were made to participate in it because you had joined the university wellbeing club. curse you and your past impulsive decisions.

honestly, things were fine in the beginning. apart from the fact that you had to socialize with others and waste your breath explaining things in the university... everything was quite alright. he wasn't too extroverted, liked to keep to himself as well...

that was until you started suspecting that he liked you.

you didn't want to believe it. there was no way. like, it's literally the absolute worse thing that could happen that would disrupt your peaceful school life.

so you pretended to not see the obvious signs he threw at you. you treated him like how you used to treat him, aka like a classmate you wouldn't talk to outside of class...

so it wasn't unexpected that he'd get frustrated. in fcat, it was actually a wonder that he managed to go for so long without shouting at you to stop ignoring the signs (he lasted 6 weeks).

eventually he confessed but... you didn't accept. duh. you didn't even like him that way! you didn't even treat him like a close friend so why would you fall or accept his love?

so you rejected him. understandable response.

but he wouldn't take it for an answer.

so he constantly pestered you in hopes that you'd finally give in and say yes. which is what led you to your current situation.

"you know, trying to act like my boyfriend..."

"but I'm just practicing for the future that will happen?"

he raises an eyebrow, seemingly confused as you roll your eyes at his reply. you make no move to explain yourself because you knew that he understood what you meant. he's a smart guy after all. he just likes playing dumb to get on your nerves.

and right now he's doing that.

you honestly wanted to just beat him up but that'll never work out in your favor. so you settle for the next best thing and that's to ignore him. and it always works.

turning around to face away from him, you plug in your ear phones and tune his blabbering out as you attempt to ignore him. it worked for a little bit but he always gets irritated the second you lose interest in him.

"hey pay attention to me..."

he whines softly, tugging on your shirt. you continue to ignore him, humming softly as you scroll on social media. oh this is a nice post-

but the second you move your hand to like it, he yanks the phone out of your grip and hides it in his bag. his face displays an annoyed expression, furrowed eyebrows and downturned lips.

you wanted to smack his face so bad. and you were just about to do that until he speaks in a chilling tone.

"you can't keep ignoring me. you know that we'll end up with each other. it's inevitable."

he mumbles before caressing your cheek. you shiver, eyes wide as your blood runs cold. shit! unconsensual touch! unconsensual touch!

but as much as you hated his touch, you couldn't move away for you were too frozen in fear. he always had a way of scaring you with his voice. and he loved to abuse it.

"you're really going to make me mad... so please don't keep resisting. it's not humourous or cute."

he mutters quietly before giggling as he lets go of your face. all you do is stare at him, still frozen in place as you gulp and finally look away.

god damn it. you really should've fought harder to get out of the exchange program.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Ｔｅａｓｅ ♡

♡ Pairing: dom!boyfriend!bang chan x sub!chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: angst/smut/fluff

♡ Summary: Lately your boyfriend's been spending a bit too much time with his friends and you're beginning to feel ignored so you decide that you'll get his attention by any means necessary. But are you really willing to go through with it and how will Chan react when he realizes exactly what you're up to?

♡ Word Count: 3.3k-ish

♡ Warnings: dom/sub dynamic, jealousy, pet names (baby, good girl, bad girl), kissing, manhandling, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, rough sex, fingering, spanking, thigh slapping, dirty talk, Chan has a kink for you watching him, and that should be all my darlings.

♡ A/N: I received an anon request for some dom Channie vibes of this variety so here we are. As always, I really hope that I did a good job with this and yes my inbox is indeed open to requests or just stopping by to say hello. Anyway, let me hush up. Hope ya'll enjoy it, babes 💜

You aren’t a brat.

Okay, maybe you are just a little bit, but that doesn’t mean that your frustration with Chan isn’t justified. You get it. His friends are important to him. The time that he spends with them is sacred and you’d never want to do anything to get in the way of that. Chan’s always been good at keeping the balance, hanging with his friends without cutting into how much attention he gives you. But lately that balance has been severely lacking and you can’t help but feel neglected.

With everyone’s schedules opening up, the guys coming over once or twice a week has turned into a nightly event, hardly leaving space for the romance you’re accustomed to. You’ve tried to drop a few hints here and there that you’d like more alone time with him but it seems to fall on deaf ears. Exhausted with trying a gentler approach, you’ve cooked up another way to grab his attention. 

You aren’t a brat. 

Okay, maybe you are, more than a little bit, but that doesn’t mean that what you’re about to do to Chan isn’t justified. 

“Babe, could you bring me a glass of water?” Chan shouts over his shoulder, fingers tapping away at his laptop. 

He’d usually get up and get it for himself but he’s too in the zone for that tonight. This is how he gets when he’s working on a song. He spends hours in the bedroom, glued to his desk, frying his retinas with the computer screen. 

“Of course, Channie! One sec!” you shout back, your voice sweet enough to make him crack a faint smile. You’re always there for him, always so willing to help with even the smallest tasks. He wonders how he got a girl like you. A sweetheart to the core. 

The pitter patter of your feet trails down the hallway and you’re right over his shoulder, setting an ice cold glass of water down on the table for him. “Nice and cold for you” you smile, rustling his messy brown hair. 

Without looking, Chan rubs your arm, leaning his head against your soft belly, “Thank you, baby. Oh, before I forget, Bin and Han are coming over tonight. They should be here in, hmm, an hour. Could you just let them in when they get here?”

“That’s totally not a problem. I’ll let them right in” you say, gracing him with a kiss on the top of the head before heading back for the kitchen. Chan’s brain automatically shifts back to the task at hand, determined to apply the last few tweaks to the song before he plays it for the guys. 

Stopping yourself before you hit the doorway you turn on your heels, smiling from ear to ear, “Hey, baby, I was gonna order a pizza. Can I grab your card real quick?”

“Hmm?” he asks, processing your request on a delay, “Uh, of course, here.” 

Fishing his wallet from the pocket of his sweatpants, he turns to hand it to you and sees something that makes his heart stop. You’re naked. Not fully naked but in his eyes you might as well be. You’re standing in the doorway with the most innocent smile on your face and the skimpiest clothes he’s ever seen you in. 

You’re rocking a pair of skin tight shorts that ride your hips deliciously, nearly choking your plush thighs. They’re riding up high enough that there’s simply no way you have panties on underneath them and you definitely don’t.

The crop top you’ve got on barely constitutes a shirt. It’s more of a thin strip of material covering your bare tits, placing your perky nipples at serious risk of popping out. And you’re standing there like it’s nothing, your fluffy breasts nearly bouncing out of your crop top as you skip over to grab his wallet. 

His gaze dances over you with a seriousness that has the tiny hairs on the back of your neck standing up. “Did you plan on changing or…”

“Changing?” you laugh, filing through his wallet to find his credit card, “Why would I change? Bin and Han basically live here at this point. I’m sure they won’t mind.”

At last getting your hands on his card, you toss the wallet back into his lap and turn to leave but he grabs for you wrist. “You need to change…now” he commands, his jaw tightening. Why you’re acting so oblivious is beyond him but the clock is ticking on his friends’ arrival and he’s in no mood for games. Whatever your issue is you need to get over it quickly before his patience runs out. 

“Why should I?” you snap, snatching your arm free of his grasp. The next thing that comes out of your mouth is purely out of bitterness. It shouldn’t be said, you know it the moment you taste the words on the tip of your tongue, but by the time you realize your mistake it’s too late. “Just because you don’t want me anymore doesn’t mean someone else won’t.” 

The laptop slams shut, almost making you jump out of your skin. Chan rises to face you, the gentle brown of his eyes darkening as he backs you into the bed. “What did you say?”

“I said that…I said…nothing. I said nothing” you stutter, instantly feeling much less confident in your plan. 

“You said ‘Just because you don’t want me anymore’” he repeats, nearly choking on the words himself, “Why would you say that? Why would you ever think for a moment that I don’t want you?”

“Because you barely touch me anymore” you sigh, flopping down on the edge of the bed. You almost crumble at your own admission, hugging yourself for comfort. “Most days you’re too busy on your laptop or with your friends to even look at me and it makes me feel, I don’t know, like you don’t want me anymore.” 

Chan kneels down in front of you, taking your hands into his, and you can feel the tension in the room soften. Ignoring you was never his intention. The knowledge that you ever felt unwanted is like a bullet to the heart. He’d gotten so swept up in everything else that he took for granted the fact that you’re always there, right by his side. A mistake he regrets more than anything as he watches tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I do want you. I’ll always want you” he swears, staring into your eyes so that you feel every single word he says. “I love you. You know that, yeah?”

You nod, knowing that, even if he can be annoying, Chan would never bullshit you. That isn’t who he is. “Yeah, I know. I love you too.”

Chan drops down to his knees, palms clasped together in flawless begging formation, “So give me a chance to make this right, please?” He pokes out his bottom lip, making big brown puppy dog eyes, “Pretty please?”

It’s impossible not to giggle at how cute he is. Only a few minutes ago you were pissed enough to bite his head off, now all you want to do is kiss him. You hate how you can never stay mad at this man but deep down inside you never wanted to be. You only wanted him. 

“Ugh, fine” you huff, arms folded across your chest, “But don’t let it happen again, okay?”

Chan inches towards you, his poked out bottom lip ghosting yours, “It will never happen again. Cross my heart. Can I get a smile?”

“No” you refuse, turning your attention to the art on the walls or anything else in the room to distract you from the way that handsome face turns you into a pool of jelly. 

“No? You sure?” he asks, pressing his full rosy lips to your neck. That first point of contact gives you goosebumps and you quiver in spite of yourself. Chan kisses his way up your neck, his lips so feathery against your skin that it tickles, shaking that smile right out of you.

Chan wraps his arms around you, biceps flexing as he brings you in closer, “There she is. There’s my girl.”

“Not fair. You cheated” you giggle, wiggling in his grasp. Your attempt at getting away is half hearted at best. You’re right where you want to be. 

Chan sprinkles kisses all over your face. Your forehead, your cheeks, your lips, until you’re all wet with kisses and reduced to a giggling mess. 

“Oh, wait, I’ve gotta text the guys” he gasps, abruptly rushing back over to the desk and picking his phone up. For a fleeting moment you feel deflated. An entire conversation and his friends are still the first thing on his mind. But as he turns around your fears are immediately put to rest.

“I told them not to come,” he says, tucking his phone into one of the drawers. 

You perk up, giddy with joy, “Wait, are you serious?” 

Chan hovers over you, taking your squishy cheeks into the palms of his hands. “Of course I am, baby” he coos, beaming down at you, “I can see them whenever but tonight I wanna be with you. I was thinking maybe we could go out to dinner.”

“Dinner? Ooh, I have the perfect dress!” You’re ready to rush to the closet and throw together a quick outfit but Chan gently pushes you back down onto the bed, refusing to move an inch out of your way. 

There’s a fire in his gaze, like a starving animal who just spotted the most delectable prey. “Were you really gonna wear that in front of them tonight?”

You sit in silence, calculating the answer in your head before you slip up again and say the wrong thing. Technically you hadn’t thought the plan through that far. Would you have actually done it? 

“I just wanted to make you a little jealous.” 

“Make me jealous when you could’ve just talked to me? That’s not what good girls do, is it?” he scolds, his voice low and stern as he brushes the hair away from your face. Tension floods the room once more, putting you back on edge. He strokes your cheek, tracing it with his thumb, “I want you to lay back.”

“But I…” you stutter, fighting to explain yourself. 

Chan leans down, kissing you hungrily, his tongue darting into your mouth to perform a delicate dance with yours. “I said lay back, don’t make me ask again, okay?”

His aggression causes heat to pulse through you, pooling right between your thighs. Not daring to make him ask again, you lay back, propped up on your elbows as you slip all the way back on the bed. Chan watches you closely, on the verge of salivating at how your eager breasts bounce with every movement. “Spread your legs.” 

At last you have a definite answer to his question. Were you really gonna wear that tonight? Hell no. How could you wear something like this in front of Bin and Han when you’re dying of shyness in front of a man who's seen you naked a thousand times?

Heart racing, you do as you’re told, bending your knees and spreading your legs open for him. The cool air in the room blows against your core, confirming what you already know. You’re wet, dripping all over these brand new shorts. Chan kneels between your legs, fingers pressing into the fat of your thighs to spread you wider. He licks his lips, a subconscious reaction to seeing the imprint of your perfect pussy lips through the thin material that only gets wetter the more he stares.

Your face is too pretty and innocent for a girl intent on being this slutty. It’s a dynamic that has his cock stiffening behind those black sweatpants. You have no idea the restraint it takes not to drag you to the edge of the bed and fuck you. Everything inside of him is saying to devour you but he needs to play with his food a little bit more first. 

“I need you to give me a real answer, baby” he whispers, hooking two fingers beneath the material covering your soaked entrance. He drags his knuckles lightly along your slit and they glide smoothly through your arousal, teasing your twitching core. You throw your head back, pouting cutely as you squeeze your thighs together, desperate for more of that tingling sensation. 

Chan forces your legs back open, a palm coming down on your inner thigh, slapping it harshly. “Look at me.”

You wince at the pain, loving it at the same time, and pop your head up to regain eye contact. You can feel your nipples grow rigid, peeking out enough to glimpse as your crop top rides up. 

“You aren’t to ever take your eyes off of me. Understood?” Chan says, dragging his knuckles up to brush your tender clit. 

“I…I understand” you whine, nails raking the sheets, pleasure rippling through you. 

Spreading his fingers, Chan scissors them around your clit, smearing your slick through the warmth of your folds. “Now tell me, were you gonna walk around dressed like this all night?” he asks, rolling your clit between his fingers. The whimpers you let out only encourage him to put more pressure on your clit, the arousal visibly trickling from your core and onto the sheets. 

“You were gonna flash them this pretty little cunt, hmm? I thought it was all mine” he says, feigning disappointment. He drags his fingers back down to your entrance, slowly easing them into you until your body’s purring. 

“It’s yours. All yours” you moan, biting down on your lip. Your walls are so greedy, eating those fingers right up. It’s been weeks since you felt his touch and it’s nothing short of ecstasy to have his hands on you. Inside of you. You arch your back and your tits pop right out of your top, jiggling sensually as he works you with his fingers. 

Chan kisses the inside of your knee, bringing his thumb up to toy with your clit again, “Louder for me, baby. Tell me who you belong to.” He curls his fingers against your cushy walls, his fingertips tapping at your sweet spot. Your body just wants to collapse and let him toy with your needy pussy as much as he wants but you remember the rules. Your eyes are never to leave him. Ever. 

“I belong to you, Channie! I’m yours!” you cry out as he picks up the pace, the veins in his arm becoming all the more defined by the force he uses to drive his fingers into your core. Resting your foot on his thigh, you inch over to rub his bulge and he groans, his eyes ready to roll back in his head. He thanks the heavens that his sweatpants are black otherwise you’d have known how hard you had him ages ago. 

“What’s mine?” he asks, nearly falling off rhythm from how well you tease his cock. All of the blood rushes from his head to his cock, pushing the band of his sweatpants to its limit. 

You clench around his fingers, shifting your hips down further to grind against his hand, “This pussy is yours, Channie. I want you to take it.” Your voice is the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. It’s dripping with enough need that he can’t deny you.

Chan dives face first between your thighs, tearing the flimsy shorts right off of you, and taking a mouthful of your cunt. The slurping sounds are borderline insane. You’re sticky and sweet coating his tongue, nice and warm as you slip down his throat. You squirm beneath him, burying your fingers in his hair, crying out his name as he laps at your pussy.

You do your best, try your absolute hardest, not to look away from him but you can’t keep your eyes from clenching closed. It’s been so long, it feels so fucking good. You’re barely holding onto your sanity let alone maintaining control over your body. 

Chan tilts his head up, suckling at your clit, “I guess we don’t wanna listen tonight.” He pulls his mouth away, releasing your clit with a pop. 

“Noooo” you whine at the loss, forcing your teary eyes back open, “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t” he sympathizes, rising from the bed to shed his clothing. If there were ever a moment you took your eyes off of him it definitely wouldn’t be now. You didn’t think you could get wetter but seeing your boyfriend standing there naked—muscles on full display, swollen cock dripping arousal between your feet—proves you wrong.

Chan grabs you by the ankles, dragging you right to the edge of the bed, “You just need a little help, that’s all.”

Sandwiching himself between your legs, he aligns the tip with your entrance and grabs you by the chin, pushing your cheeks together so that your lips poke out a tiny bit. “So fucking pretty” he hisses, shuddering at how tight you are when he pops the tip in.

You let out a moan that borders on a whimper and he grins, thrusting into you hard enough that your whole body jiggles from the force. Your eyes squeeze shut and he slaps you on the ass, “Stay with me, baby. I want you to watch what happens to girls who try to make their boyfriends jealous.” 

He dips his hips down, switching to an angle even more lethal, and thrusts into you harder this time, bottoming out. Your lids shoot open, glossy eyes wide open as he drills into you. Every stroke of his cock between your gushing walls is like an art, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“You feel so fucking good” he hums, his free hand reaching between your legs to pet your cunt. “I’ll always want you. Always want this gorgeous face and…fuck…this pussy.” 

His grip on your face is so tight that your words come out jumbled, only breathy moans escaping your lips. He’s so deep inside of you that you’d swear you could feel it in your stomach, right there where all the tension’s building. Your mind’s spinning, core spasming around his cock. You’re fucked out already, your lids growing heavier and almost closing. Just almost. But you force them back open, taking his cock and following instructions like a…

“Good girl” he coos, rubbing your clit faster and faster. Your body jerks, your hands clasping around his arm, and he knows you’re close. “Cum for me. I wanna feel you gush around this cock.” 

Chan lets go of your face, grabbing your plush hips to keep you in place, hips snapping in rhythm with your broken moans. He leans in to plant sloppy open mouthed kisses between your breasts, capturing your mouth with his.

“Channie, I’m…I’m…” you gasp, losing your words as a wave of heat washes over you, leaving you creaming down his length, his thickness stretching your walls to the brink. 

Chan snakes his fingers into your hair, forcing you to stick to your word. He watches your eyes as they light up at the release, fighting to stay open then widening again when he spills into you, swelling you up with his cum.

He keeps you just like this, staring into your eyes until you can’t take it anymore and your head falls back in surrender. Rolling off of you, he cuddles up beside you, both of you high enough that you’re floating. 

“You’re my favorite person in the world” he says, kissing you sweetly. 

“You’re mine too." You crack a weak smile against his lips, “Soooo, did you still wanna grab something to eat?”

“I mean, I already ate” he grins, dipping a finger into your lingering wetness and licking it off, “But I could go for some more.”

[sexilene]

https://www.tumblr.com/sexilene/759818777216024576/can-i-request-a-boynextdoorjj-x

thinking so so many thoughts!!! I love this so much!! I need to know how and what went down when jj showed reader how to touch herself!! I feel like she’s very innocent and jj of course is a dirty boy!

OMG yessss! boynextdoor!jj x girlnextdoor!reader thought ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ (ignore the spelling mistakes sorry lol!!)

your next-door neighbor, the sweet golden retriever of a boy was an absolute chaos demon, and always horny…of course you knew this… but you were surprised when jj had promised not to try anything funny until you were ready, and you two weren’t even official yet!! but of course, you two would do the safe, usual, kissing while grinding and such- but there got to a point where the second he climbs through your window you just want to jump on him and have him help you with the ache between your legs!!

you were thinking about it all day, from the moment you woke up…to now where jj is sitting on the carpet on the floor next to you, “helping” you color a barbie coloring book all messily. you finally smacked your glossy lips together and turned to tell him about what you would like to do…

“jaaaayjay?”

“what’s up babycakes,” jj responds, not looking up from the page he was currently coloring in,

“i have a secret to tell you- and you have to promise not to laugh at me!” your words cause his eyebrows to shoot up, curiosity spiking. he looked up from the coloring book and nodded his head, “hit me.”

“sometimes, when i think of you…i think thoughts…” you speak slowly, dragging out the words, trying to find a way to say it without it sounding too dirty!

“what kinda thoughts?” jj tilts his head, a small smirk growing on his lips and he thinks he knows where this is going….

“like thoughts that make my…you know what get all fluttery and sticky…” jj thinks it's cute how shy you get when it comes to doing stuff like this with him, and he’s more than happy to help you out.

“s’that so? y’know i’m pretty skilled in helping relive that feeling,”

“you are?”

“ohhh yeah, can help you out if you want…no pressure of course but uh- i’ll be here coachin’ you every step of the way.” he stands up and offers you a hand to get you up off the floor as well.

“yes please, not full on sex though right?” your smile also starts to appear, heart beating fast at the thought of doing something so naughty with the boy you have the biggest crush on!

“nah s’perfectly safe, alright you have to take your shorts off for this baby-” jj begins to slide down your pink polka dot cotton sleep shorts and guides you over to your bed. jj takes a seat back against your pillows, he pants the spot between his legs gesturing for you to sit in front of him, back against his chest. “c’mere sit, m’gonna be gentle i promise,”

you sit where he’s telling you- but before you make yourself really comfortable you pick up one of your stuffed animals and whine “wait, don’t want them to look!” jj then licks his teeth before picking up all your little stuffies and practically throwing them under the bed.

“careful please!” you chide- pouting slightly,

“m’just putting these guys under the bed for now, little vacation time for em’ right?” he smiles innocently.

“ohh-ho soaked through your panties honeybunny!” jj laughs- but not in mockery- in complete awe of how bad you soaked through the cotton of your pretty panties, he smooths over the patch of wetness with the pads of his two rough fingers, making you whine and squirm in his hold. “jaaay, please!”

“im getting there hold your horses…” he tuts, you can feel his head shake in faux disapproval from behind you before he begins to slowly press down on your clothed clit and rub. “alright, watch what i’m doing- see just where you feel sensitive, ruuuub it nice n’ slow.”

“mmmphm!” you unintentionally lift your hips so towards his fingers to somehow try and get more friction, more pressure to- “yuuup, now you try.” jj interrupts your hazy thoughts, grabbing your wrist to lead you in rubbing your clit.

and once you begin, under his instruction, you bite your lower lip and apply bits of pressure while you touch yourself. “feels really nice!…”

“want me to keep going?” he whispers,

“yes please!” ”okay now watch angel, move those cute panties to the side n’ then- i���m just gonna use one finger.” jj carefully and ever so gently moves your panties to the side to get access to your dripping hole. then when finally starts to dip his finger in to start, you feel the stretch- slight but still present. “ohmygod!” you gasp, his finger curling up to find your g-spot, you quickly cover your mouth with your hand to keep you from yelling out again.

“s’just one! then move it iiiiin and ouuut-” he reassures you, “feelin’ okay?” and all you can do is nod, hand still covering your mouth. your little noises bouncing off the walls of your bedroom, his whispered praises, the ‘shlick-shlick’ sound your pussy makes with each in-and-out motion of his fingers….“hear that? little pussy makin’ sounds cause she’s all wet-” jj coos, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.

“can you do another finger pretty please jay?”

“sure can…moving in and out easy breezy baby- and then see with your other hand you keep rubbing on your clit.” he nods his head in approval though he knows you can’t see him, trying to get you closer to your first orgasm.

“i feel like im going on a rollercoaster!” you squeal, your two little fingers focused on rubbing your clit as he showed you while he curls up two of his thick fingers into your warm heat- over and over. “yeah? shit your cummin’ already…squeezing my fingers so tight,” he smiles upon hearing your little moans and feeling how tight your pussy is clamping down on his digits.

“jay!! mphph!” you scream out, his free hand coming up quickly to cover your mouth and muffle your moans as you cum down hard on his fingers. “shhhh sh sh, came down real haaard chickie, atta girl.” he licks his lip and continues to slowly thrust his fingers in and out before he slowly slips his fingers out of your cunt.

“feel like my pussy has a heartbeat…” you breathe out, trying to turn your head to look up at him, trying to re-ground yourself.

“she’s all sensitive-” he smiles down at you, re-adjusting your panties as they were. and all you do is look at him in admiration, feeling so lucky to have him here with you and what kind of a friend would you be if you didn’t help him feel as good too? a small slime graces your face when you get up to crawl away from him and turn to face him.

“thank you for helping me jj, you're always so nice and gentle- i wish there was something i could do to help you…”

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

[moonstruckme]

perhaps whimsical!reader x one of the marauders (you choose) who’s being made fun of but doesn’t realize it? And they defend you or talk to you or something?

Thanks for requesting <3

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader ♡ 745 words

Remus watches as your eyes drift out the window beside his couch.

“I think you’d like it,” James continues, unaware that he’s lost your attention as he tells you about the shop he’d gone to with Mary the day before. “They’ve got incense and crystals, all that stuff.” 

When you don’t react, Remus nudges your leg with his. 

You look at him. “Hm?” 

“That does sound like someplace you’d like,” he tries to clue you in, “doesn’t it?” 

“Oh, yes.” You give James a breezy smile. He returns it with ease, not a lick of pique about him. “Thank you, James, I’ll have to go. Where is it?” 

James’ thick eyebrows come together. “You know, I’m not actually sure. Mary led the way there and I just sort of followed, but I want to say it was on fourth.” 

You nod, and Remus smiles at your obvious expertise on the matter. He doubts there’s a shop of that kind that you haven’t been to, but you’re humoring James just to be kind. “Right, there’s a string of them on fourth street. Maybe I can ask Mary sometime and see if—oh, the fawn is standing up!” 

You grab Remus’ hand excitedly, turning in your seat to get a better view out the window. Your eyes are very nearly heart-shaped as you coo over the baby deer wobbling to its feet a few yards from Remus’ home. “Oh my goodness, it’s so precious. Do you guys see it?” 

Remus shoots James an apologetic look, but his friend smiles and shrugs it off, coming to lean over the couch beside you. 

“It is really cute,” he agrees.

Sirius laughs. “You’ve really got yourself a goldfish, haven’t you Moony?” You don’t pay him any mind, but Remus regards him quizzically. “She can’t seem to talk to anyone for more than two seconds before she’s distracted by something shiny.” 

Now, you turn, your head tilting like a puppy’s. “It’s not shiny, Sirius, it’s a fawn. Do you want to come see?” 

“It’s a figure of speech, love.” 

“Pads.” Remus’ voice is hard. “Don’t.” 

Your brows pucker at your boyfriend’s tone. “Remus,” you sound almost hurt, “what’s wrong?” 

He wraps a protective hand around your thigh, but James speaks before he can. 

“It’s nothing,” he says cheerily. His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “They’re always squabbling like this, they’re like an old married couple. Best to do as I do and stay out of it.”

“Oh, please,” Sirius guffaws. “Like you’ve ever stayed out of anything in your life.” 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” James says. Remus relaxes as the beginnings of a bemused smile touches your lips. “I don’t partake in any such childish quarreling.” 

It’s only after his friends leave and Remus is cleaning up his kitchen from all the snacks they’d left strewn about, that he says quietly, “Don’t mind Sirius, dove. His sense of humor can be mean, but he wouldn’t tease you if he didn’t like you.” 

You pause sweeping up the floor, looking at him curiously. “What do you mean? I thought they were both really nice.” 

“They are,” he says, “but I just want to make sure you understand that when Sirius was making fun of you, he didn’t really mean anything by it.” 

“He was making fun of me?” 

Remus swears he feels his heart fall right out his ass. 

“Yes, sweetheart, but like I said, he was only teasing.” He gives you a small smile, but at your puzzled look, reluctantly clarifies, “You remember when he said you were a goldfish?” 

You nod. 

“That was it, dove. That was the joke.” 

“Oh.” You smile funnily, one side of your mouth quirking up more than the other. “Is that supposed to be a bad thing? I’d love to be a goldfish.” 

A little laugh startles out of Remus. “Really?” he asks.

You nod happily, resuming your sweeping. “They can see more colors than humans, did you know? And they’re really very pretty.” 

It’s all Remus can do to keep from crossing the kitchen to squish you in a hug. He’s grinning ear-to-ear. “Well,” he says, trying to match your serene tone, “then it suits you, dove.”

“I think so,” you say lightly. “You should be a goldfish too, Remus. Or actually, I think I see you more as a seahorse. We could both be seahorses, if you like.” 

“Don’t seahorses mate for life?” 

“Mhm. Suits us, don’t you think?”

[taylormarieee]

Carino, Let's have a sexy Christmas-Day 17 Miguel O'Hara

Prompt: You get all sexy for Miguel on Christmas...

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 709

Warnings: PiV sex, Doggy Style, Begging, Edging, Daddy Kink, Backshots, Polaroid pictures, aftercare...

"Yes Daddy! Right there, oh f-fuckk!" You cry out as Miguel pounds into you from behind.

His balls slapping harshly on your clit as his cock slides in and out of you at a fast pace.

"Yeah mama, you like that? Beg for it, beg for me to cum all over you."

You wanted it so bad that all you could do was babble incoherent words of his name and 'please'.

He loved how drunk you got off of his cock. He loved seeing you act like a little whore just for him and him only.

You hear the click of a camera and see Miguel using you polaroid camera to take pictures of the pornagraphic scene

You feel his hand slithering towards. your neck before lifting you up so your back is flush with his chest.

He snaps a picture of your face with your mouth agape and wide open.

He drops you back down on the bed as he takes the polaroid out and shakes the picture.

He rests all the photos he took on the nightstand next to you guys' bed.

You hear Miguel groan behind you. "Please Miguel. Please Daddy I'll do anything! Please cum all over my ass please!" You beg.

He chuckles deeply and kisses all along your back and neck. He plays with your clit for a little before feeling his orgasm approaching.

He pulls out and your arch your back more as he strokes himself, whimpering and groaning he spills his load all over your ass and back.

"Yes Daddy! Oh fuck. Yes!" You cry out as you circle your clit feeling your orgasm washing over you as you shake and convulse.

"Did I tell you you could cum?" He asks, voice deep and angry.

"For that mami, your getting a punishment."He says. He slams his cock back deep inside you as he rams into you.

You cry out at the overstimulation and he begins rubbing your clit faster.

"Daddy please! I'm sorry Miggy! I won't doit again! Please!" You beg for him to spare you but your pleas don't work.

He ruthlessly rams into you still and your hands grip the sheets hard. Your knuckles turning white.

Your throat starts to hurt as if all this screaming is making you lose your voice.

He whispers in your. ear, "Your not gonna cum yet. I'll decide that. We've got all night Cariño." He has that smug look on his face when he knows he's won.

He's got you right where he wants you. Wrapped around his thick cock like a good little girl.

"Oh fuck I'm gonna cum! Please let me cum!" You cry out. He doesn't respond.

As soon as that feeling is about to wash over you he pulls his hand away and pulls out completely.

You shake and whine out slowly feeling your pleasure fade away. "Miggy please! I'm sorry." You plead and cry hoping he'll relent but he doesn't

This torture goes on for another 30 minutes of you feeling close to your orgasm and then he pulls out completely.

Your ass cheeks hurt from the smacks he sent to them as a punishment.

You feel like your about to pass out when he wakes you up by. sending another stinging slap to your ass.

"Wake up babe, i'll be nice and let you cum now." Your so tired all you do is mumble a faint 'ok'.

You feel it coming yet again and finally release all over the. place.

You squirt all over Miguels cock, the sheets, your thighs all soaked. He loved it. Watching as your fluids mix together.

He takes 4 more pictures using the polaroid. "Well baby, this will be a Christmas to remember..." He responds darkly with a smirk on his face.

Finally he puts you down gently and goes to grab you some water while running the warm water in the tub. He places you inside the tub and lets you sit there to rest.

When you feel the warmth of the water you slowly drift to sleep feeling his hands clean you up.

When you wake up again your in his arms in front of the Christmas tree watching a movie.

You smile to yourself before going back to sleep.

Taglist: @itzdarling @obviouslynini @grixonsdoll @queerponcho @sunve1ns. @aerangi @number1gal @luvrxbunny

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

A Changed Future (2) | Yandere Isekai

Part 1

It’s so irritating for Haruko 

He remembers how he used to try and make noise in the beginning, when the same thing happened to him

But even without your struggling, he’s got more obstacles than he thought

“Tch all these guys getting in our way, maybe I should just kill them.”

“Haru no!”

“Why not, I'm sure you did it when I was trapped.”

“That…that doesn’t make it right!”

“So? Who cares about right when we’re in love? I think it was you who said that.”

Either way with or without your approval he’s figuring out a way to take down his newfound rivals

He kind of hopes they are as ambitious as the friends who recently abandoned him

Too bad they aren’t

In the original story, the crazy thing about the protagonist was that despite their obsessive love for Haruko and general disregard for those who got in the way of that was otherwise really inspiring

Breaking away from their elitist family for their violent morals ironic right

Joining the workforce, easily rising because of their work ethic and intelligence

And all that while beautifully evading a less-than-clean detective trying to pin the blame of random crimes on them

Which of course got them their own male leads attempting to pursue their affections

Always doomed to fall short because of circumstance or the protagonist suavely crushing their hopes to gush about their love

It was a uniquely terrible tragedy for their characters to be written this way

That’s what the random reviewers would say

Which is why you did feel inclined to maybe entertain them a bit more than the original protagonist would have ever done

“Since you are quitting….I hope you’ll let me treat you to dinner. For all your hard work of course.”

“Uh sure but I have to be home by sunset.”

“That’s a shame then we’ll have to—Wait. Did you say you would?”

“Yeah, are you okay?”

“YES! Ahem I mean yes I’m fine! I look forward to a nice evening together!”

Unknowingly furthering the obsession the protagonist was barely keeping at bay

“So mind telling me what you ordered that day at the restaurant?”

“I think it was my favorite dish there called the berry delight but I’m not sure. I think they changed the menu since I was there.”

“Why not confirm it later today? That way you can tell me if you did see the missing classmate of yours.”

“But I don’t remember exactly where I sat–”

“Then we’ll just have to sit in every spot until it rings a bell.”

“I don’t know if that’s–”

“Don’t fret. I’ll be paying but there's no way we’ll get to try every table. We’ll have to come back multiple times.”

“Okay…”

“No worries I’m sure you’ll get tired of eating there so we’ll go to some other places to give you a rest. Anywhere you wanted to try?”

You’d be foolish to think you could escape them by agreeing to Haruko’s entrapping of you 

It only takes a day of you not responding to messages that they both eagerly awaiting you at your door

And after the first few times, Haruko shooing them away they begin to get resourceful

“Yeah bud nice try their still out.”

“Hm well say that to my lovely warrant right here.”

“Wait! H-h-hold on! Geez I-i’ll go get them now but they are not going to be happy with you!”

It really doesn’t get better as the guard against the protagonist’s secrets begins to be let down as interested parties slowly make their way in

You don’t have the same ruthlessness or ability to deceive as the protagonist you took over for 

On top of that you never actually read the webtoon so you’ll be left trying to piece together whatever few weak points the protag has

Where if you hadn’t already started to make your pursuers interested all those faults are fuel for their agenda

“It’s so unfortunate that the company can sign off on your absence during this suspicious crime but I don’t mind editing records if you wouldn’t mind spending time with me. That way I can vet your personality myself. Over wine of course!”

It’s overwhelming constantly being pulled in 3 directions 

What’s worse you’re completely oblivious when the latest obstacle in the protag’s perfect life finally makes themselves known

“Hello darling, it took us years to find you but we did it!”

“Don’t look like that come give your Mama a hug!”

Part 3: Coming Soon

[yuri-is-online]

Can I request a part 2 for when the guys leave some of their stuff in the guest room? Can it be with Azul, Jamil, and jade please? Thank you!

While cleaning the Ramshackle guest room, the prefect occasionally finds items that remind them of their guests. Sometimes that is because those items actually belong to them and need to be returned, other times it's just a happy coincidence. Either way, the item needs to be delivered, might as well invite them over again? Or just chase them down, whatever is most convenient.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, I was a bit surprised to get this request! In a nice way~ No warnings for this one, just pure fluff. The first one can be found here and more fic can be found on the Masterlist.

Antique Coin

Azul Ashengrotto is a well put together young man. His suits are pressed, his shoes are neatly polished, his rooms are always orderly and without dust.

Which is why he notes immediately when something is even mildly out of place, and completely falls apart once he's in the privacy of his own room. He knew he never should have paid attention to that stupid article Floyd had shared in their group chat, coins being symbols of good luck wouldn't make him relatable to anybody and now he's missing one of his best coins! How stupid could he have been to think that-

"Hello, this is Azul speaking." He snatches up his phone without even checking the caller ID and immediately begins sweating when he hears your familiar breathing (he swears he's not a creep, really! He's just noticed that whenever you speak on the phone, not that you do that often really just when he can work up the nerve and hey this is technically the first time you've called him! Progress he's making progre-)

"Hey there, you got a moment?" Azul can feel the heavy sweat drop on his forehead. He's done enough research to know conversation starters like this are never good.

"I'm a bit busy right now." He tries to lean casually against his desk and glares at the book that has the audacity to fall off his desk and startle you. "Is this terribly important or can it wait?"

You, laugh? Is it nervous, or is it affectionate? Does even know what that sort of laughter would sound, is it bad that he finds your voice terribly beautiful even if it's mocking, even if it's- "Um sorry, but are you missing a coin?"

"A... coin?"

"Yes! I remember you saying you collect them and this one I found in my guest room smelled a bit like the ocean so. Yeah. I thought it might be yours." He smiles.

"My dear, you know I'm just going to say 'yes' and take it from you." You laugh again, how silly that last one was nerves. This one is affection, his hearts are fit to burst with it so it must be. "I'll be there in thirty minutes. If that’s acceptable?"

"Of course! I'll be here." Perhaps that article wasn't completely wrong after all.

Red Feather Accessory

There are few things Jamil hates more than being sick. Assassins don't have sick days, or maybe they do. Maybe they have better benefits than he does. Maybe he'd make a really good assassin in some alternate universie like that one video game series from your world you told him about once, the one with the emblems and gangrene? He doesn't remember much of the conversation Kalim tricked him into having by saying he wanted to hang out in your guest room yesterday.

"But you were so happy to see them!"

Because of course, that had been Kalim's justification. And sure, he probably had been really happy to see you. He'd been running quite the fever and he can't imagine you made that temperature any better.

"Good morning, prefect." He manages it smoothly, you look properly embarrassed to see him this early, your eyes flicker to his hair and linger just a moment longer than normal. "Sleep well?"

"Mostly." You try to focus on his face, but his hair is clearly distracting. Your eyes keep darting back to it, Jamil expected to be embarrassed, but this is oddly empowering. "Is there a reason you're here so early?"

"I think you know why I'm here." You don't, he can tell that much from how you swallow. "Can I come in?"

"Sure?" You move just the bit and Jamil let's himself inside, the doors in Ramshackle always look so damn similar. Just how do you find your way around in here? "Um, Jamil?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know why you're here?" You look lovely

"Of course." He laughs. "I left a hair accessory here yesterday when Kalim decided to visit." How odd, normally you'd flinch if he worded it like that. Instead you just look sort of blurry.

"I see." You're close now, but he can't see you through this weird fog that's filling your hallways. You push back his headband and press the back of your plam to his forehead. "Oof. Well that's not good." Your arm encircles his shoulders and boosts him back up to his feet. He supposes he can afford to lean towards you, there's enough plausible deniabilty in what he's said already to keep his feelings to himself.

"C'mon." You do your best to boost him and march back towards the door. Jamil is smiling similar to how he does when he gets one over on Azul, but you doubt he's planned this. He's so feverish that his skin has gotten clammy. "I already took your hair pin back to Scarabia, ok? Let's get you back to bed."

"That's so kind of you." His hoarse voice tries to purr. "Perhaps you'd like to stay for breakfast?" Thank the seven Grim isn't awake yet. You'd never hear the end of this from either of them.

Encyclopedia of Tea

Books are expensive, you can count on one hand the ones you own unrelated to your school work scattered around your dorm. They are precious to you, signs of your life in a world you don't belong in. A way to tell something about you if someone decided to look at the little shelf you had finally put up in your guest room.

And someone had, because you know damn well this book isn't yours, the process of returning it is guaranteed to be a headache but the longer you hesitate the more ammunition the book's rightful owner will have to accuse you of stealing it. Assuming that's what Jade's goal was anyway, it seemed like something he would find funny to do. You could picture him slipping the book onto your shelf with that calm look on his face.

Jade's face isn't what you would call wildly expressive. He smiles pleasantly most of the time, seldom do you see him frown. Even now when his forehead is knit in concern there's nothing really resembling the scowl you saw during Azul’s overblot.

"Hello Jade, forgotten something?" You hold the book up and shake it slightly. His eyes widen, and his smile drops into something more nuteral. This expression is adorable, it stays as Jade speaks, allowing you to admire it longer

"Oh?" He blinks, Jade wakes easily enough so your own expression flickers to concern at how slow he seems for just long enough to give him back his confidence. "It seems the simplest solution was correct. Thank you, prefect." He reaches for the book, hands lingering near yours as his eyes focus on the title of the book. He is painfully slow in taking it back.

"Do you really take this everywhere with you?" Your hand involuntarily flexes as you retreat back into your personal space. Sometimes you wish you could read minds, it would make this heavy feeling in your heart more explainable. Let you notice the way Jade's teeth display for you and not hide inside your own insecurities, how he wishes you would keep your eyes on him.

"Of course, it helps to have some light reading on hand when things get slow." He wishes you had kept the book long enough for it to retain your scent or some of your warmth. Perhaps now that he's set this precedent, he can fake it. Leave his jacket or his scarf? But no, that wouldn't be believable. He's Jade Leech, the Vice Warden of Octavinelle. You would never believe the real reason the book ended up where it did. His dreams are his to dwell in alone.

"Perhaps as thanks I could prepare one of my favorites for you? To clear the debt so to speak." For now.