#y’all I knew this would happen though as soon as I opened up the fic

[parallelunivrses]

if I had a nickel for every time I got into a fandom because I read a fic that had an interesting premise but I otherwise knew nothing about the characters or story

[ID: a cropped image of the Doofenshmirtz “if I had a nickel” meme showing just Doof’s head. End ID]

[wh0re43van]

Boyfriend pt 3 (Warren Lipka X Reader)

Word Count: 3k

Summary: You wake up at Warrens house, then finally indirectly break up with your boyfriend.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of Warrens wounds from the fight, mentions of weed

A/n: Okay y’all, i think this might be the last part. I could probably continue this for another part or two if i really wanted to. (i have a couple rough ideas) but I’m probably gonna focus on other fics.

Pt 1, Pt 2

As I open my eyes, I’m startled for a split second, not recognizing the bed I’m in or the ceiling I’m looking at, but the familiar scent of weed and the sound of a bong bubbling while a Green Day CD plays in the background reminds me that I’m at Warrens house. I sit up in his bed, the t-shirt of his that I’m wearing hangs off me, still smelling of his cologne.

“Well good morning sleeping beauty,” Warren says between coughs, I sit up in the bed yawning.

“Why’d you leave me,” I frown, looking at the cold spot next to me where Warren fell asleep last night.

“Well, I waited for you to wake up for like an hour, I got bored,” he laughs, standing from the couch then walking to the bed, bong in hand. I smile at the boy in front of me. His disheveled brown hair that’s falling into his bruised face, the white tank top that hugs his torso snug and his grey sweatpants that don’t leave much to the imagination. “Does this make up for it?” He hands me the glass and the lighter.

“Only if you go get me some water,” I smile sweetly, accepting the bong.

“Anything for you,” he winks, making my heart flutter as he turns to walk up the steps. I take a small hit from the bong before laying back down on the bed, watching the smoke I blow out cloud above my head and dissipate into the yellow light in the ceiling.

‘How did I get here?’ I think to myself. Just last month I had a routine. I was comfortable- albeit bored. I knew what every day was going to consist of, there were no surprises. I woke up, smoked, then either went to work or went to Dakota’s house. If I went to my job at the library, I had a set task list; the exact same every day. If I went to Dakotas, we either went on deliveries or argued because he’d been cheating on me again. Sad, I know, but that’s how it was, and I was fine with it. Everything’s different now, not in a bad way though. Warren invaded my thoughts and my heart as soon as we reunited, and I don’t think he intends on leaving anytime soon. I’m grateful for him. He’s made me see that life can be exciting-and messy. I’ll never be able to think of sex the same for the rest of my life, regardless of what happens with us.

‘Us,’ I think to myself. ‘What are we?’ Are we friends with benefits? Is he seeing other girls? He wants me to break up with my boyfriend, but I don’t even know where he and I stand. I’m going to break up with Dakota- for many reasons- but, do I really want to jump straight into a relationship again? Is that what Warren wants? Will he lose interest once I’m single? Regardless, I don’t want whatever me and him have to end; That’s the only thing I know for sure.  

“Here you go, beautiful,” Warren interrupts my thoughts, his voice bringing a smile to my face as he hands me the glass of water.

“You’re so chivalrous,” I giggle before taking a sip of the cold water. Warren crawls over top of me and flops down on the bed, laying on his back with his toned arms crossed above his head. He smiles and sighs, turning his battered face to look at me with heavy eyes.

“What?” I giggle, unsure of why he’s staring. His grin stays plastered on him as he shakes his head.

“Nothing… It’s just if you had told 13 year old me about this past month, I would have never believed you. How did I manage to get the most beautiful girl in Fayette County in my bed, wearing my shirt…only my shirt?” he says in a dreamy tone as he props himself up on a bruised arm. I can’t help but blush at his words. He knows exactly how to flatter a woman.

“Oh stop,” I giggle. “You’re quite the looker yourself,” I smirk as crawl on top him, sitting on his stomach. “You look really good in this wifebeater with your busted lip,” I run my hand up his chest and to his face, brushing my thumb over his healing abrasion. He brings his strong arms to my hips, leaning into my hand on his face. “You look dangerous,” I wiggle my eyebrows, smirking. He laughs as he flips me over so that he’s hovering above me, he slips his hand under the t-shirt I’m wearing, ghosting over my bare core.

“You have no idea,” he whispers lowly in my ear before nibbling on my neck, sending electric shoot through my entire body.

“I don’t think that I thanked you properly for defending my honor,” I smile, before pulling the shirt up and over my body, leaving me completely bare underneath him. His eyes scan my body as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“This view right here is thanks enough,” his sultry tone resonates in my ears as he runs his busted knuckles over my curves, leaving goosebumps on every inch of skin that he touches.

“I have a little bit more to offer,” I smirk as I sit up, shoving him on to his back. He watches in anticipation as I settle between his legs. “I gotta say,” I purr slowly as my hand ghosts over his crotch. “You looked really hot fighting for me,” I smile through my lashes as I slide my fingers under the top his waistband.

“And I’d do it again, especially if you’re my reward,” he brings a rough hand to my cheek, pushing my hair out of my face as he stares bullets into my soul. I’ve always adored his dark eyes, the color of freshly brewed coffee; bitter yet comforting. A single glance from the man below me is enough to make my core ache.

“You know Warren,” I begin as I slowly pull his sweats down, holding his gaze. “When you look at me like that, you could get me to do absolutely anything you want,” I say before biting my lip in anticipation as I slide his boxers down to reveal his semi hard cock awaiting my attention.

“Mmm, I could say the same thing about you, darlin’,” he groans out, his deep voice sending chills down my spine straight to my core. I spit into my hand before grabbing his cock, pumping it a few times to fully wake it up. He hums at the contact, his body relaxes as he lays flat on his back, laying his arms above his head. I cup his balls in one hand and his base in the other as I slowly sink my mouth down on him until he hits my throat, earning a low moan from the back of his throat.

“You always treat me so well, baby,” Warren groans, squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure. I begin to bob my head up and down on him, hollowing out my cheeks. “Mmm, atta’ girl. Just like that, beautiful,” he sits up to watch me gag on him; a feeling that I’ve grown to love. Every ounce of praise he gives my goes straight to my stomach, fueling the butterflies that are erupting. His eyes, dark with lust, gaze down at me. I lose myself in the moment. His moans and words of praise fill the room as he repeatedly thrusts against the back of my throat. My jaw starts to go numb, but I ignore it; The site of Warrens face contorted in pleasure and the compliments falling from his blushed lips is worth every ounce of pain.

I see his hand go the night stand, picking up my vibrating phone. I pull away from him, catching my breath as he puts the phone to his ear.

“What do you want?” he asks with a sly grin before gently guiding my head back to his erection. I’m confused, but I obey and slip him back into my mouth. “She’s right here, but she’s a little busy at the moment,” he smirks into the phone.

‘Oh god. It’s got to be Dakota’ I think to myself as I kitten lick around his tip. I hear him raise his voice on the other end of the line.

‘Yep. It’s Dakota,’ I think I hear him ask warren to put me on the phone, followed by some curses. Warren laughs as he thrusts deep into my throat, making me audibly gag.

“She can’t talk right now man, her mouths a little preoccupied,” he winks at me, my cheeks burn red. I can tell Warren is enjoying this- maybe a little too much and I hate to admit that I also find this situation extremely hot, so I play along. I take his entire length into my throat, past my gag reflex until my nose is nestled against the small patch of brown hair decorating his skin.

“Fuck! Just like that baby,” he moans loudly, chuckling into the receiver. He begins to thrust deep into my throat, groaning in pleasure. “What’s she doing?” He laughs breathlessly as his free hand uses my hair to hold my head in place as he violates my mouth. “Mmm, I’ll spare you the details, dude,” he says, his stupid grin not leaving his face. I can hear Dakota cussing Warren out. His eyes focus on me as thick strings of spit drip from my mouth around him as he fucks my throat, my gagging filling the room. Warren uses my hair to pull my head back, spit rolling down my face as I gasp for air. He holds the small phone up to my mouth. “Do you like gagging on me y/n?” he asks I nod my head still trying catch my breath. “Use your words beautiful,” he says with the biggest shit eating grin, using his eyes to motion to the phone.

“I fucking love it,” I say breathlessly, a smirk falling across my own face as my knees becoming weak from how aroused I am. With that, he shoves his cock back into my mouth.

“Holy fucking shit,” he growls in a way I’ve never heard before as he drops the phone on his chest, Dakotas small voice still shouting on the other end of the line. Warren grabs either side of my head guiding me up and down his cock a couple more times.

“Fuck, just like that, baby. I’m cumming,” Warren groans as he releases deep into my throat and onto my tongue, I lap up every last drop, pulling away gasping again. “Did you swallow all of it, darlin’?” he asks, panting as he wipes a tear from my cheek. Dakotas frantic voice still chirping through the small plastic brick.

“Yes sir,” I giggle opening my mouth, sticking my tongue. Warren smirks, grabbing my ass to scootch me up to him. “Good girl,” he says against my lips.

“Warren!” I hear Dakotas infuriated voice boom from the phone. Warren laughs holding it up to his ear again. Dakota bellows every slur, insult, and curse word I’ve ever heard through the cell until Warren cuts him off.

“Yeah that’s why I fucked your girl,” he laughs loudly, his shit eating grin plastered proudly on his battered face. “Bitchass cuck!” he shouts before ending the call, tossing the phone to the side.

“Warren, what was all that about,” I giggle as he attacks my bare skin with kisses and love bites.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.” He pants against my skin. “Turn over, beautiful, I’m not done yet,” he slaps my ass, standing to remove his tank top, his dick still hard as ever. My stomach flips as I get on my hands and knees on his bed. He comes up behind me, pulling me to the edge of the bed, using his hands to spread me open. Wasting no time, he licks a long strip across my core, earning a whimper from me. “You taste so sweet baby,” he coos before inserting a finger inside of me. I whine at the contact. He begins pumping his finger inside of me. “You really liked that, hm? You’re soaked,” I can hear the smirk in his voice, all I can do is nod my head as he curls exactly where I need him most.

“Fuck Warren,” I whimper, desperate for more of his touch.

“You’re so fucking stunning,” he runs his hand down my back and over my ass, admiring my body while he slips another finger inside of me, I whine in response. It’s strange the kind of affect he has on me; With one touch from his hand, I’m soaked. I’m so pathetically attracted to this man, I’m almost ashamed. He fuels a lust deep inside of me that I never even knew was there. No drug is any match for the way that Warren can make me feel.

“Fuck me, Warren,” I whimper out as his fingers pump into me. “Please, I can’t stand it, I need you Warren, please,” I plead in a way that I’d never imagined I would beg a man.

“Anything for my girl,’’ he coos, pulling his fingers out to lean down and place wet kiss on my lower back, nibbling at the skin, sure to leave a mark.

‘His girl’ the phrase fills my heart with joy.

Soon, I feel Warren slowly pushing into me. His hand reaches up, snaking gently around my throat as he pushes deeper and deeper into my sopping wet cunt. I let out the unholiest of sounds as he stretches me out.

“Fuck,” my voice comes out shaky and desperate as he begins to thrust into me.

“Holy shit, you’re so fucking perfect,” he groans, his grip on my throat tightening as he pounds into me. He slaps my ass, making me gasp loudly. He rubs his hand gently over the stinging skin. “This is mine,” he growls lowly, then he wraps his other hand around my torso, pulling me up to so that my back is flush against his chest as I rest my knees on the bed. This new angle allows him to hit even deeper inside of me, making me see stars. I lean my head back on his shoulder, my eyes rolling back in their sockets. He grabs my face and ducks his head down to pull me into an intense kiss. His tongue explores my mouth as he pounds my pussy into oblivion.

“You’re all mine,” he growls against my lips, his grip tightening on my throat a bit. My knees go so weak that his arms are the only thing holding me up, keeping our sweaty skin pressed together.

“Fuck Warren,” I pant out, barely audible. The rubber band that has been tightly winding in my stomach snaps, sending ecstasy to every cell of my body. My walls convulse around him while he continues to thrust into me mercilessly. “That’s my girl,” he groans lowly in my ear, reaching down to rub my clit to encourage my orgasm. I come completely undone around him, my body begins to shake as I scream out his name, the pleasure almost to much when he reaches his own release. He pumps me full of his cum, fucking it deep into me as I clench around him. His warm seed drips out of my cunt around his cock as he rides out his orgasm, surely leaving bruises underneath every fingertip gripping my neck. He finally slows down, pulling out of me before picking me up with shaky arms to lay me gently on the bed. I lay with my eyes closed trying to catch my breath, a sweaty puddle on the disheveled bed. Warren lays down beside me. “I’m sorry, was that too much?” he asks sincerely, placing a loving hand on my stomach. I open my eyes, turning to look at him.

“Are you kidding,” I giggle weakly. His worried expression quickly matches my own. “Warren that was amazing,” I crawl up to lay on his sweaty chest, his quick heartbeat is comforting as it rings through my ears.

“You can always tell me if I do something you don’t like,” he says honestly as he traces circles on my back, using his other hand to run his fingers through my hair.

“Warren Lipka, you know that you can do no wrong,” I giggle as I snuggle further into him. He laughs lightly, the room is filled with a comfortable silence.

“Hey, how ‘bout we get cleaned up and I take you to that new cafe that opened up in town?” He offers. I sit up to meet his gaze, he has a serious expression on his bruised face.

“What? Like… like a date?” I smile a bit sheepishly. He smiles right back.

“I’d sure like it to be,” he says hopefully. My grin stretches from ear to ear as I stand from the bed, tugging on his arm.

“Well, come on then. I don’t want to go on our first date with your cum dripping down my leg,” I laugh as I pull him into the bathroom.

“Hm, I don’t know. Sounds kinda hot to me,” he chuckles as he closes the bathroom door behind us, pulling me into a deep kiss before he turns the shower head on.

[wintersera]

special gift || g!p karina x f!reader

notes: merry christmas!! hope y’all enjoy this smutfic… also “short fic” my ass i got carried away again 😭

cw: g!p karina, top!karina, bottom!reader, somnophilia, established relationship

wc: 1.7k

having a girlfriend who was one of the top idols in the industry was seriously a pain in the ass. sure you were lucky with dating THE karina from hit south korean girl group aespa, but fuck, you hated whenever jimin was basically never at home. during comebacks she was always booked and busy, and unfortunately this year, her schedules were packed tightly; solo gigs, advertisements, photoshoots on top of show after show, variety show shoots, etc.

you had cursed lee-fuckass-sooman for being such a shitty ceo and never letting his idols take a short break, even for christmas. all that cursing and manifesting towards that man in hopes that he would do something pulled through, because guess what, you woke up to the sound of your phone going off, a text message from your beloved girlfriend.

you honestly were tired as fuck, you knocked out as soon as she said ‘wait for me’, but with all the anticipation and adrenaline of seeing your girlfriend for the first time, in what? a few months, you were too excited to sleep any longer than an hour.

up at the ass crack of dawn cleaning your entire apartment, every single room had to be spotless, cleaned to perfection, shiny to the point of where you can see your face. not only that, but with christmas being literally today, you had to put up last minute decorations since you were too lazy to set up everything during your finals week, although you were busy as hell, so you couldn’t really decorate regardless, anything for your girlfriend i guess.

cleaning the entire apartment took hours, you were at it for so long that you didn’t even realise it was noon, and then decorating took way too long that in a flash it was already the evening and the sun was setting. oh shit, you realised jimin would be coming home soon, and you had no present to give her.

unless….

anyways, as a little treat, since jimin hadn’t seen you in so damn long, you thought it would be nice to dress up for her. even though you will be staying inside with her all day, dressing as santa would be on theme. rummaging through your closet, you find an off shoulder santa dress you bought last year for a party, pairing that with a set of lingerie, yeah you could be jimin’s ‘present’.

it was getting late, really really late, and even though you knew jimin said she was gonna come home at god knows what time, you couldn’t help but feel a little disheartened. you checked your phone, 11:07pm, no messages, no calls from her. you wondered if she stayed behind, knowing her, she would’ve stayed helping someone out if they really needed her, she was kind like that.

you laid on the couch feeling sleepy, all the effort put into making your apartment look presentable and christmas-y took a large toll on your body. seconds go by and you feel your eyes shutting, and your body relaxing.

thirty minutes.

the jingling of jimin’s keys could be heard from a few metres away. she knocked excitedly at the door expecting you to open up and jump into her arms, but nothing. she thought it was a little strange, you’d always opened the door and greeted her with a grin whenever she was able to visit, however you didn’t answer, not even your phone.

jimin thanked you for giving her spare keys just in case a situation like this happened, or a situation where she wanted to surprise you after your uni classes. has it happened? a few of times, yes. she came to your apartment and diligently waited for you with a cake on the table. but besides that, jimin waltzed into the apartment sighing and unzipping her massive puffer jacket “baby i’m home” her voice trailing off as she notices you sleeping on the couch “aww, did you doze off waiting for me? you’re so cute y/n” she was kind enough to lift you up and carry you to the bed, but only a few seconds later she realises what you were wearing.

jimin gently places you on top of your blanket, her face tinted a slight shade of red, your skirt hiked up a little for her to see. she pressed a shaky hand on her lips, wondering if she should really do what she was thinking, knowing you, she thought it would be okay. you’ve established this before, if it comes to jimin coming back to yours and you’re fast asleep, you told her it would be one hundred percent okay for her to wake you up by fucking you.

she sighs heavily and coughs, her hand shakily steadying herself on the bed, hovering right above you. with ease, she took off your dress leaving you with your lingerie on “why’d you have to be asleep. i’m so hard right now you don’t understand” her pants becoming increasingly uncomfortable with every passing second. caressing your skin gently before she unhooked the bra hook at the front, she begins to tease around your already hard nipples, building up her own arousal. a soft mewl escapes your lips, jimin’s teasing gradually turning into heated touches. each touch amplified your moaning, which in favour made jimin reach her breaking point, sliding her cargos off easily, she frantically tugs at the waistband of her boxers before tending to your panties.

spreading your legs apart so she can slot herself in between your thighs, you gradually come into consciousness, blinking your eyes a few times before your vision clears up “mmm… jimin?” you whispered, voice a little husky.

“finally, you’re awake. can we, you know… have sex?” she asks seriously. you giggle at the older girl, you look at her dearly.

“of course we can” noted, she draws herself closer, so close that her lips tickle your own. your arms wrap around jimin’s neck pulling her down, kissing her sweetly and softly. as she gives into the slow kiss, jimin adjusts herself comfortably between your legs, her hard cock against your bare pussy “you’re already hard” you say as you break the kiss.

“you look too cute, i couldn't help it” giggling as she pecks your lips twice before she turns your face to the side slowly kissing your jaw all the way down to your neck “were you dressed as my christmas gift?” huffing each time she stops kissing your neck.

“y-yeah” voice wavering “sorry i wanted to greet you, but i got too sleepy” you whimper softly as she pushes the tip of her cock slowly inside of your pussy.

“that’s okay, i know you did this all for me” you hum happily as she kisses your cheek, “you’ve made christmas so special, and i didn’t get you anything either, so let me treat you tonight” jimin licks her lips in arousal, attentively watching you wince as she pushes the rest of her length inside. one thing jimin loved about being intimate with you is the way you were so reactive to her touches, she always loved how easy it was to make you call out her name while your hands gripped her arm. the way you got so lost in pleasure, the way you sweetly moaned with each thrust, how you had to have your hands somewhere on jimin’s body just to feel even closer, jimin loved it all.

jimin began rolling her hips, her cock being long enough to hit almost every spot that made you squirm beneath her “how are you feeling, does my cock make you feel good?” you couldn’t answer simply with words, rather you responded with rapid ‘hm’s’ and ‘mhm’s’ all while she drove herself deeper. she leaned down and pressed her lips against yours once again, this time sliding in her tongue. you moaned into her mouth, her passion and skill making you feel dizzy and weak from the overwhelming pleasure you were receiving. jimin grinned into the kiss, knowing that she was the only one who could make you feel this way made her heart flutter.

she kept pumping in and out, quickening up the pace in one second, and then stopping abruptly the other second, just to see you hit her shoulder lightly and tell her to speed up while you moved your hips around her shaft, then suddenly speeding up again, catching you off guard and making you yelp.

she continues to rock hard and fast, giving you no time to think for yourself. your stomach plummets feeling like you were about to explode “fu.. fuck. jimin, i- i feel like i’m gonna cum” any other words after sounded like a bunch of garbled nonsense, the words ‘close’ being repeated a few times. to bring you closer to the edge, jimin took her fingers, put them softly into your mouth for you to suck them obediently, took them out and rubbed your clit slow circles. you moaned loud in response, her fingers skilfully playing with your clit as her thrusts grew harsher and consistent.

“ah… me too, god i’m so close-“ jimin kept going, her harsh thrust weakened her arms, forcing her to press her body against yours. she couldn’t take it much longer, her cock twitching and her tip overly sensitive “gonna.. i’m gonna cum, fuck” her hips jolted, her face nuzzling in between your neck as she attempts to hide a long moan. not so long after, you followed in suit, feeling her warm semen filling the insides of your pussy made you lose it. you gripped jimin’s bicep as you threw your head onto the soft pillow, legs twitching in response to jimin’s fingers still rubbing your clit.

a few seconds of relishing in ecstasy go by, you and your lover breathing heavily, catching your breath while you caress jimin’s hair lovingly. you tapped her shoulder “you okay baby?” she got up from between your neck, her baby hairs sticking to her forehead,

“merry christmas babe” smiling sweetly as she kisses your forehead, “i’m okay, it felt too good i almost blacked out” she pulled out, watching you again as you frowned subtly. jimin held back a giggle, you were just too cute “come on babe, let's get up. i’ll run a bath for the both of us”

“you’re so sweet jimin, i love you so much”

“i love you too y/n, merry christmas you cutie”

[naturesapphic]

Jade West x girlfriend reader where she’s being bullied by another girl but doesn’t tell Jade and one day Jade sees her all bruised up and gets furious

Secrets

Jade west x fem!reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, cussing, Jade going crazy, mentions of punching

You were heading to your next class before lunch when your school bully, Sarah, came up to you with the rest of her friends and cornered you. They have been doing this ever since you were a freshman and now that y’all are seniors, it has died down some, especially when you got with Jade. When you and Jade got together, Sarah found out and backed off for months but it seems now that she got a chance to get to you since Jade wasn’t here today which usually never happens because even though she hates school, she gets to be with you all day.

“Oh look, it’s jades little bitch.” Sarah snickered and her friends laughed as they went on and on picking and teasing you. You wished Jade was here but she wasn’t so you had to deal with this on your own, like before when y’all didn’t date yet. Sarah and her friends bickering went on and on so you drowned her out which angered her. “Did you hear me freak?” She snarled as she landed a punch straight at your face which caused you to fall to the ground. The bell rang which signaled to everyone that it was time to head to class. Sarah smirked down at you and pulled you up by your hair which made you whimper loudly. “You got lucky this time y/n. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Sarah said lowly and she let go of your hair, making you sigh In relief.

Sarah and her group of friends walked away to head to class as you sighed to yourself as you walked to the bathroom to see what damages she made this time. You walked into the girls bathroom to see your face red, your eye swelling up and it changing color due to the punch that Sarah gave you. Jade is gonna have a cow over this.

~ the next day ~

It was the next school day and you were trying to put on makeup to cover your black eye but it was no use. You just had to go to school with your black eye peeking out behind your makeup like a sore thumb. You arrived at school in your little car, parking next to jade’s car and you got out, bracing yourself for Jade. You walked into school to see Jade at your locker, holding two cups of coffee. When she saw you her face lit up but then it turned dark as she saw your eyes which made you more nervous than you already were. You slowly walked up to her and gave her a little kiss on her lips which she didn’t kiss back which meant she’s really pissed. “Who did that.” She stated simply and you tried to think of an excuse to use but Jade saw right through you.

“And don’t even think of coming up with a lie y/n.” She said softly but stern. You sigh and told her about Sarah and her friends. Her face darkened and you saw her almost break her cup as she squeezed it. You grimaced and gently took her cup away from her when it was about to burst. “Where is she.” She asked you sternly and you sighed. “I don’t-“ you started to say but was cut off when Jade gave you a glare. “Her first class is p.e. So she would be in the locker room right now.” You said quietly as you looked down at the floor. Jade smirked and cracked her knuckles.

She came closer to you and gave you a passionate kiss on your lips and pulled away as she storms into the gym. You didn’t know what all had happened but you knew that the ambulance had to be called for Sarah and when Jade came back her knuckles were bruised but she had a satisfied look on her face. I don’t think Sarah and her friends will bother you anymore.

A/n: hey guys! I’m back hehe more fics will be coming out soon then Christmas requests will be opened hehe. I hope you enjoyed it anon and I hope everyone else did too! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love y’all! :)

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Gojo Convincing You To Sneak Out Of The Dorms Pt. 2

Gojo Satoru X FemReader

Rating: G

Warnings: Just lots of fluff and Gojo

Word Count: 1.k

Part 1: here

(A/N:) I had to do a part 2 of my most recent Gojo fic, cause we all know the man didn’t mature at all once he became a teacher. So he would totally sneak out with the reader as an adult. Plus as a reader of the manga (and reading the new chapters as soon as they drop) I wanted to help Anime only watchers through some things that are gonna happen. I’m not giving spoilers but enjoy some more of my Gojo content. I hope y’all like it and until next time happy reading! ~Countess

The peaceful atmosphere of the Jujutsu High school seeped into bathing room as the warm water seeped into your bones. The day’s exhaustion was catching up with you quickly as chasing young up and comeing sorcerers around all day was tiresome. Throw a Gojo Satoru in the mix and that exhaustion tripled. So your evening bath had become a time to relax and unwind before going to bed. Well it was when you could keep Gojo from barging in and gifting you with his presence.

So far this evening you hadn’t seen that familiar head of silver hair and it was making you a little nervous. The last you had heard he hadn’t had any missions come up, so it was most likely Gojo was still lurking around somewhere. If he wasn’t around you, he was definitely up to something. Everyone knew that but you had the chance of getting closer to Gojo after a relationship had blossomed between the both of you while you were both students. Now that you both were teachers, you and him tried to be a little more discrete about your relationship. Mainly you, as Gojo enjoyed embarrassing you with ridiculous acts of PDA that borderlined on being more on the obnoxious side. You couldn’t really lie to yourself though that you didn’t love the attention, though the obscene ridiculousness of his affections would cause you to blush blood red.

With a warm cup of tea and a novel on your bedside table, there was still no sign of Gojo as you turned off the light of your bedroom and flicked on the lamp at your bedside. Your nighttime routine was supposed to be relaxing, but you couldn’t unwind with the threat of a quiet Gojo lurking around. Settling under your blankets and cracking the book open on your lap, you took a sip of tea. Your bedroom window slammed open startling you into almost spitting out a mouthful of tea.

“Is my favorite pretty lady in here,” Gojo asked as he hung halfway into your room through the window. Shoving blankets aside you shoved him back out of the window causing the powerful sorcerer to pout.

“What are you doing?!”

“Let’s sneak out,” he replied grabbing your arm. “Like we used to do.”

You shook your head holding firm against his not so gentle tugs on your arm, “Let’s not.”

“Why not?”

“C’mon Satoru we have to set an example for the kids,” you sighed removing your arm from his grip before trying to shut your window, only for him to stop you.

“I am setting an example for my students,” Gojo smirked.

“Yeah a bad one,” you retorted. “We’re adults now and teachers nonetheless, we can’t play these childish games anymore.”

“I feel like your speech about being adults and teachers is making me nauseas.”

“You make me nauseas. Go back to sleep.” 

“I can’t,” he whined barging his way inside. For such a tall lanky man he was surprisingly agile coming through your window. He swept you up in his arms holding you close. “The night is so young and so are we.”

“Mmm hmm you’re making it sound so romantic Gojo,” you snorted. “I haven’t been young in ages and if I don’t sleep my students suffer.”

“They suffer either way with your teaching,” he grinned before yelping after you pinched his arm hard.

“Very funny,” you shoved him away. “Go take a walk by yourself, it’ll be just as romantic.”

“Please,” he kissed you softly and you melted. “Just for an hour.”

This was always your downfall. Whenever he didn’t get what he wanted it was those pouty lips and those bright blue eyes he kept hidden until this exact moment. He knew how much of a weakness he was to you and Gojo played his cards well. Viciously tearing down your walls until you agreed to whatever he wanted. Which didn’t take long with those ridiculously long eyelashes and insanely gorgeous blue eyes.

You sighed, body sagging in defeat. “Fine.”

You didn’t have to say a word more until he was helping you out your window and out onto the darkened streets below the school. You held your robe closed with one hand while Gojo held the other one. Why you didn’t think to let him give you a few moments to change, you’d never know. Now you get to walk around hand in hand with the world’s strongest sorcerer in your pajamas.

“You look fine,” Gojo spoke up leading you further away from the school.

You glared causing him to smirk. “Oh yeah sure I look fine in my designer pajamas walking beside Mr. Effortlessly Gorgeous.”

“You think I’m gorgeous.”

“Shut up,” you snarled blushing pink.

Gojo squeezed your hand tighter, leading you onwards until you were lost in the scenery going by. Gojo remained unusually quiet, until the crash of waves on the shore took your attention. He grinned widely turning loose of your hand so you could run towards the waves. The memories of your first time here at the beach with Gojo surfaced and it made you laugh. He joined you in your glee, splashing you with salty water and you returning fire. Seconds later he was chasing you down the beach until he tackled you to the sand. You cackled loudly, slapping at him playfully with no mournful thought to your gritty hair and clothes. The sand was still a little warm from the residual heat from the sun and it contrasted nicely with the cool night. You laid out enjoying it while breathing heavily. Gojo did the same but laid on his side so he could brush sand from your cheek.

“Thanks for talking me into coming out here,” you nuzzled closer.

“You’re welcome,” he cooed. “Time with me is never wasted.”

You snorted at his egotistical comment but kissed his cheek nonetheless. You rolled back over watching what stars you could see in the sky, enjoying a much needed quiet moment with the sorcerer you still loved dearly. You looked forward to spending all the time you could with him as long as you both were alive and able.

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: nada

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

asten is really diving into this whole teenager thing headfirst y’all

part ten

❝ TEENAGE ANGST ❞

SATURDAY — JULY 21 — 8:15PM

LAYLA’S HOUSE WAS THE PENTHOUSE OF ONE OF THE TALLEST BUILDINGS BENTLEY HAD SEEN ALL DAY. He didn’t take in many details, with his foggy brain. He knew when they arrived because Layla made a deal out of it, and he was pretty sure he remembered going in the elevator because the ride took a while and made him nauseous. He’d been anxious about meeting her parents in a state like that, because maybe they’d ask what happened and maybe they’d call Bruce and get them in trouble for sneaking out, but they’d been in the penthouse for a while already and no adults had showed. Not that he was paying all that much attention to his surroundings, though.

Layla had ushered him out onto a balcony as soon as they arrived, for fresh air and brought him a glass of water quickly thereafter. Now, it was only him outside.

Curled up in one of two white  patio chairs, chin resting on his knees, Bentley sat in silence. Of course, the very first time he went and did something with his friends, he had to have an anxiety attack. It was like life was laughing in his face, derailing his plans, like it always did. Sure he’d come up with crazy plans before, like superheroing, or sacrificing himself, but it seemed the world didn’t even want his plan of being a teenager that had at least a few friends to succeed.

A few years ago, he probably would’ve cried about it. No, scratch that — he definitely would’ve cried about it. But now, all he could seem to be was terribly pissed.

Which frustrated him in itself, really. Bentley wasn’t an angry child. He knew that, and he’d heard his brothers talking about terrible teenage years full of angst and rage and Bentley had been in denial about it — saying that just because it happened to most people didn’t mean it would happen to him. He’d been trying to avoid it at all costs, because that wasn’t who he was.

That fact that it was happening, now, only made him more pissed.

He took to staring off into space. The view from Layla’s balcony was stunning. He could see hundreds of buildings, all sprouting up out of the ground and shining in silver like nothing Bentley had ever seen in his life. The sky was bright blue with fluffy clouds peppered around, the sun shining happily down on New York City.

Bentley might as well have had a personal raincloud over his head.

He only peeled his eyes away from the view when the quiet hiss of the patio door came and went. He assumed Asten had been briefing the others on what happened, or maybe talking to Georgia, he wasn’t sure. He heard his voice when the door was opened but couldn’t much focus on what he was saying.

Koa stepped out on the balcony, closing the door quietly behind him. 

Bentley watched in silence as he stepped out to the edge of the balcony, not sparing him a glance, resting his wrists on the railing and staring at the view instead.

A few beats of silence passed between them, and Bentley looked back out at the view.

“How are you?” Koa asked cautiously, glancing over at Bentley for a short second. His seafoam colored eyes bounced around on the redhead’s face, though there wasn’t anything negative in them — no worry, concern, not even pity. Just something like… he didn’t know. He couldn’t place it right then.

Bentley looked away. “Foggy,” He admitted, staring off at the buildings in the distance. “Annoyed.”

Koa moved, taking a seat in the second patio chair, a white one that matched the one Bentley was sitting in. It was a few feet to his right. 

More silence ensued.

“I, uh…” Koa started, glancing down at his hands before looking back up at the view. “My guardian… he’s twenty-two, but he started taking care of me and another boy when he was nineteen. His name is Artimi. And we live in California, so… y’know. Money and stuff is hard there.”

Bentley glanced over at him, only really processing probably half of his words.

“What I’m trying to get to is that he has them, too. A lot. So I know what to do. We sort of have a mutual taking care of each other thing going on,” He continued, glancing down again. “Anyways; If you ever find yourself having one without Asten, I’d… be glad to help. Artimi says I’m pretty good at it.”

Bentley breathed in, and then out, staring off the balcony at nothing in particular. A few moments of silence passed.

Well, at least that was (probably?) one person that (maybe?) didn’t think he was a total freak.

“Thanks, Koa,” He said quietly, glancing down at the tile beneath his chair. 

“No problem,” He replied, leaning back against the white backrest. “Do you need anything?”

Bentley shook his head. “No. I’m probably just going to call my brother.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Koa stated, smiling slightly and rising from the chair. “If you need anything, you can let me know.”

Bentley plastered a little smile on his face as Koa retreated back into the penthouse, closing the glass door and leaving him alone once more. His expression fell as soon as the door was closed.

With a heavy sigh, he dug his phone out of his pocket and searched his contacts until he found the right one. Hopefully he’d answer — Bentley didn’t quite feel like calling Dick or Bruce, because they’d get all worried and ask to come get him and stuff, which wasn’t what he wanted. 

He fiddled with the hem of his shirt as the phone rang a few times. It would be just his luck that he was busy. He always was.

“Hello?”

Bentley exhaled when Tim’s voice came through the phone.

“Hey…” He replied softly, glancing down at the tile beneath his chair. He didn’t say anything else, and an awkward moment of silence ensued.

“Everything okay?”

Bentley breathed in and out. “I… had an anxiety attack in front of a bunch of my roommates,” He started, shaking his head at himself. “You always tell me to tell you if it happens, so… here I am.”

He heard Tim sigh faintly, though it didn’t sound like frustration or annoyance. He couldn’t quite place what, though. “What happened?”

Bentley shrugged even though Tim couldn’t see him. “Too many people. I heard all the water and blood… and it was too much, I guess…”

“Where are you right now?”

Bentley glanced around. “Right outside our building,” The lie slid almost naturally through his foggy state, and in the moment, he didn’t even have the willpower to feel bad for it.

“Is Asten with you?”

“He’s right inside,” Bentley replied. “I just came out to call you.”

There was a moment where neither of them spoke, and Bentley breathed in and out.

“How long was it?” Tim continued.

Bentley shrugged again. “Asten said only ten minutes.”

“Should I-“

“No, don’t tell Bruce. Don’t tell Dick, either. I’m okay — I have Asten, and… a few more of my friends were very helpful. I’m fine now — I guess I just wanted you to know so I wasn’t… keeping secrets,”

Ironic.

“Alright,” Tim spoke up, and a few sounds Bentley couldn’t decipher came through the phone. “Do you need anything else from me? I have a few reports I’m working on, but I can stay on the phone with you, if you want. I’d ask if you wanted me to drive down there, but I’m guessing, since you don’t want Dick and B to know, that that’s the kind of thing you’re trying to avoid.”

Bentley furrowed his brow. “You would drive down here in the middle of work?”

“Technically, New York is up from New Jersey. But yes, you doofus, if you needed me, I would,”

Bentley breathed out. “It’s okay, I’m good.”

A beat passed.

“Are you sure? Because that was an ominous pause there,”

Bentley brought a hand up to rub at his forehead. “Yeah, it just… makes me mad, is all. That I can’t be normal like everyone else. I just want to have friends and be a teenager, but it feels like everything is trying to stop me.”

Tim huffed out a vague laugh. “That’s pretty much how it feels the whole time you’re a teenager,” He sighed, a sound like paper rustling coming through the phone. “Want me to let you in on a little secret?”

“What?” Bentley asked, glancing off the balcony. Okay, maybe now he felt a little bad for lying.

“You feeling like an outcast is completely normal,” Tim started, and Bentley kept fiddling with his shirt. “Being a teenager is a time in everyone’s life where they’re trying to figure out who they are, who they want to be. It might lead to stupid decisions and mistakes, but everyone around you is doing the same thing you are. Wishing they were normal, and trying their very best to be, when in reality, there isn’t even a standard. You’re just all doing the same thing in different ways.”

Bentley breathed out, fiddling with his shirt. “I guess…”

“The attacks are pretty individual, and I absolutely hate that you have to go through them, too. But I promise, more people understand than you realize,” Tim explained quietly, another paper rustle coming through the phone. “I just had a pop-up meeting appear on my schedule, courtesy of some himbo who dresses like a furry at night. I love you.”

Bentley exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I love you, too.”

“If you need me again, call me. I’m not beyond crashing a meeting,”

Bentley snickered. “I’d have to see a recording of that.”

Tim snickered, too. “Talk to you soon, buddy. Text me.”

“Bye,”

He hung up the phone and sighed heavily, staring out at the city. Tim had given him more than a life’s worth of solid advice as of late, and still, no matter what he said, Bentley couldn’t help but feel like an absolute idiot. Like he was failing at life. Tim always insisted that he had been the same way at his age, but Tim had also been Robin at his age. Which kind of overshadowed all the anxiety stuff that Bentley couldn’t seem to push past.

He huffed, leaning his head against the backrest of the chair.

He hated being a teenager.

—

Whatever they went to Layla’s house to do, they didn’t do it, thanks to Bentley. He pretty much just sat on the balcony alone for an unidentifiable amount of time until Asten came out, to ask if he was alright and if he thought he could walk back to the school.

The walk had been mostly quiet. Asten stayed close to him, as did Varian, who pretty much never took his eyes off of Bentley. (Which didn’t at all make him feel singled out, or anything.)

Since then, he’d been milking the whole attack thing as an excuse to lay in his dorm and wallow in self pity. Which was exactly what he was still doing as the final rays of the day’s sun streamed through the window, the darkness of night soon to follow. 

Tim had texted him a few more times, asking how he was, if he needed anything. He was also vaguely aware that Asten kept texting someone — he wouldn’t doubt if it was also Tim. Asten had been in the room with him the whole time, sitting on the top bunk, silent while Bentley laid on the bottom. Varian kept popping in and out over and over to ask if he was okay, and had even brought them food once, but had recently stopped appearing. Bentley was pretty sure he’d heard Koa tell him he was being annoying.

Every now and then, the springs in Asten’s mattress moved under his shifting weight. “Hey, B? You awake?”

Bentley sighed lightly, rubbing a hand over his face. He thought about saying no, but opted for silence instead, hoping that Asten might actually believe he was sleeping.

A moment of quiet passed. “No one thinks you’re weird. I promise. They were all really supportive when I talked to them about it.”

Bentley said nothing, but turned over on his side, slowly and subtly, so he didn’t make much noise.

(Maybe this school wasn’t a good idea in the first place.)

Three knocks on their door drew him back into reality, and Asten said: “Yeah?”

The door creaked open, and Bentley’s gaze was met by a pair of platinum wings.

He snapped his eyes shut.

“Little guy sleeping?” Valor questioned softly, his accent still strange and unfamiliar to Bentley’s ears. 

He heard Asten thump down from the top bunk. “Yeah. He always crashes afterwards. He’ll be good to go in the morning.”

Bentley might’ve heard Valor sigh. “That’s rough. I’ve had a few moments in my time, but nothing serious like that.”

Bentley couldn’t see Asten, but he assumed he shrugged or something of the sort. “Yeah…”

Bentley considered that Asten might say me either, but considering that a few short years ago he’d murdered half of Gotham, he was pretty sure that counted as something more serious than a panic attack.

“I was coming to tell you that Rockie, Koa, and I are leaving for a party my friend Mason is throwing at his house in a few; it’s just off campus. You’re old enough to come, if you wanted to,” Valor said softly, and Bentley practically felt the Brit’s eyes linger on him for a minute. “But if you want to stay with him, that’s fine, too. No pressure.”

He felt Asten look at him, too. “I’ll see what he thinks.”

“Alright. But… maybe don’t mention the party part? Mason runs kind of a tight ship trying to keep it under wraps. There will only be about fifty people there,”

“Okay,” Asten said, and after a moment, there was a click of their door closing.

Someone touched his shoulder. “Hey, B?”

Bentley peeled his eyes open, pretending to wake up as best he could. “Asten?”

The Brazilian’s green eyes were pretty close to his own, and he rubbed Bentley’s shoulder lightly. “Will you be okay if I leave for a little while? Varian is here, but it’s totally fine if you want me to stay.”

Bentley sat up and rubbed a hand across his face. “Where are you going? It’s dark.”

Asten blinked. “Library,” He lied straight through his teeth. “Valor’s meeting up with some of his friends there. Wants to introduce me.”

There was a part of Bentley that wanted to be mad, but most of him just wanted Asten to have fun and not have to carry him around like a burden. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Go ahead.”

Asten exhaled. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” Bentley replied, turning the opposite way in the bed, so he was facing the wall. “I’m tired anyway — you’ll just be watching me sleep if you stay here.”

“Alright,” Asten breathed, and Bentley felt him pat his back. “Call me if you need me.”

“I will,”

No he wouldn’t, but Asten didn’t need to know that.

A few moment of rustling and moving around later, their bedroom door opened and closed, and Bentley was alone.

He wasn’t sure what teenage parties really entailed, but he didn’t guess it would be anything good.

Maybe Asten would get out unscathed.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld ❤️

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @skylathescholar @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun @xiaonothere @beatyoutothatusernameloser

[delfiore]

only make you cry

pairing: florence pugh x fem!reader

synopsis: flo isn’t ready to be in a new relationship after her last one ended by means of public scrutiny.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: hello. um, ik it’s been a while, but school and work has just been so hectic that i barely even have time to rest. i was also dealing with some things too, but alas am back. i hope y’all haven’t forgotten abt me and i’m hoping to get back into writing again soon because it’s fun and not because it’s sth i have to do. so ya, enjoy this angsty, kinda smutty but not rly fic i whipped out :3

════ ⋆★��� ════

She remained untouched.

By the responsibilities she had to bare as a price of only doing what she loved to do.

By the lousiness of the world waiting to gouge out any imperfections so that it may discredit her just for the sake of it.

By the mask-like cynicism she had come to develop just to survive and not get swallowed whole.

She remained untouched by you.

Yet, the desire to reach out and touch her, despite her serene appearance—face pressed into the pillow, eyes comfortably shut, lips slightly parted—was beyond any reasoning that you could muster. You simply desired her, to touch her, to feel her, the way you did merely hours before.

The sky was beginning to brighten, signaling another day. You didn’t want to leave, you only wanted to reach out and touch her, to kiss her, and tell her that you were here to stay. But you knew you couldn’t.

She stirred, finally. Florence was a quiet waker, with a sharp inhale and a purse of her lips, eyelids slowly peeling open to reveal two emerald gems, that usually start out more hazel and golden in the morning. You gave her a small smile. “Good morning”.

“What time is it?” She asked.

You hummed, reaching back toward the stand for your phone. “8:37”, you had checked ten minutes prior too.

You watched her as she willed herself to rouse, hunching over the side of the bed, like she was putting the weight of the world she left by the bed back on her shoulders. You reached over, and brushed her spine with the back of your hand. You thought you felt a split second in which she found comfort in it, but it was gone too soon when she stood up and headed for the bathroom.

You always observed Florence. You liked to admire the person that she was, watching this phenomenon of a human being do the most mundane tasks, like cooking an omelette or watering a plant. It made you feel special, being able to be in her presence made you feel phenomenal. She tended to have that effect on people, not just you. You were just lucky you got to witness it behind closed doors.

“Could you feed Billie, please?” You loved when she included you in her routines. You would give her a kiss on her jaw and a gentle caress of her hips in gratitude in passing her.

Sometimes when you’re lucky, like now, she would grab you, and kiss you deep with a sigh, her eyes lustful and sultry when they gaze into yours after.

It started a few weeks prior, the sex, and the mingling, months earlier than that. It was at an after-party you were expected to attend, that Flo also happen to be there. There was a certain glow to her, something that made her seem more mature than the last time you saw her whilst shooting Black Widow. The short brunette hair, the nose ring, it was different, but it all suited her.

“Y/N?! Christ, is that you?!”

You started hanging out again, just like you did whilst shooting the movie and a little while after that before your respective schedules pulled you apart. It was as if no time had passed.

She cooked for you the way she did, a drink on the side and occasionally dancing to music that hyped her up. Then one day, she confided in you. She told you that she and her boyfriend had broken up.

“It was a few months ago,” she said with a sad smile, “the pressure just got too much. We’re friends, though.”

“I’m sorry.” Were you an asshole for leaping on the inside? You couldn’t tell her how you felt three years ago because she was already in a relationship, especially when Zach was a good man, and she was happy too.

Then one night, she kissed you.

It was after a bottle of wine (or two), and you both were on her couch. You felt bold, and your hand ended up over her thigh, feeling the softness of her skin. Her laughter had died down, only breathy giggles now from her plump lips, her intense gaze lighting fires in the pit of your stomach. And before long, she was straddling you and desperately attempting to pull your shirt off.

“I’m going on a trip next week with some mates,” she told you, tickling the back of your neck with her arms resting around it, “come with me?”

You could never say no to her, never when she holds you like this. But alas, you were just messing around.

Ibiza was a nice change of pace from the bustling city; it was sunshine and blue sky as far as you could see during the day, then parties and drinks until the early hours in the morning.

You liked that she knew when to have fun, but not too much to let herself go. She always seemed in control. Her friends were welcoming of you, but you weren’t free of the teasing comments.

“She seems lovely,” one of her friends said, once you had left to the bar. You’d just make out what she said. “Where’d you find her?”

“We met on-set,” Flo answered.

“Good for you, mate. She’s always following you around like a lost puppy, it’s cute.”

A small laugh erupted from Florence’s chest, and you felt something churn in your stomach. You took the drinks from the bartender with a small ‘thank you’, and returned to the group.

You handed Olive her drink, then Flo hers before kissing her cheek. “Your dry martini.”

It was only after you had come back from another party that night, that you thought about it again.

“You okay?” She mumbled, peppering kisses on your bare shoulder, her hand roaming your body.

The thing was, you didn’t mind being her lost puppy. You were too devoted to care.

The media was started to catch up. Pictures of her and you during your sun-soaked holiday started to make headlines, at first because two Marvel stars were seen vacationing together. But then fans began to speculate when more handsy pictures began to surface (a failed attempt by your publicist to keep things quiet), and you suddenly felt the pressure. It was in particular the pictures of you and her splashing each other in the water that did it.

“People need to get a job, christ,” you sat by the island scrolling through Twitter on the private account you made for the sole purpose of lurking.

Florence let out a small laugh as she chopped a bell pepper in half. “Let them talk, hm? We don’t need to concern ourselves with it.”

“It’s a bit difficult to mind your business when it’s shoved in your face every time you open your phone,” you huffed through your nose, extending your foot toward where Billie had chosen to sit by your side to taunt the pup.

“It’s not like you to care about what people think. What changed?”

“I don’t know, I just don’t like people butting into my relationships, that’s all.”

“Well,” she said so casually, “we’re not exclusive or anything, so . . .”

You didn’t know what to say. Billie seemed to have picked up on the awkwardness too, and trotted away to find her bed for a nap.

“Y/N,” she said, but you didn’t look up, “you know we’re just messing about, right?”

“Of course,” you said, shrugging, “it’s what we agreed upon the first time. What? You think I’m in love with you or something?”

“You better not be,” she laughed as you made your laugh over to her side.

“Why not?” You mirrored her laugh, and snaked your arms around her waist.

“‘Cause it’ll complicate everything,” Flo said lowly, “and I don’t like things to be complicated.”

“Alright,” you nodded, taking her chin in your fingers. “Well, I’m not, so.” You pecked her lips.

You didn’t know you could feel the kind of isolation like what you felt when Flo went away. She had gone back to England to be with her family, leaving you all alone in this god-awful town, in Los Angeles, the city of liars and pretenders. You thought you might have become one too.

It was easier said than done, and you thought you could do it. You thought you could be content with just being a fuck, but it was never that easy. You stopped seeing anyone properly ever since you started knowing Flo, and that was three years ago. You knew it was a futile effort to wait, but you waited anyway.

“My nan just gave me this amazing apple pie recipe. I’m gonna make it when I get back,” you let her ramble on FaceTime as you attempted to do work on your laptop.

“Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Your nan’s pie recipe,” you replied, turning towards the camera, “can’t wait to try it.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” your voice was started to growing harsher, “‘s fine.”

“Doesn’t sound like it,” she said, “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said firmly, “please leave it alone, Flo.”

You didn’t like the way you sounded. You were so harsh to her. A quick glance towards the screen told you she was taken aback by your response, maybe a little hurt too. It was a mistake.

“I have to go, got some work to do,” you sighed, swallowing the lump in your throat, “I’ll call you later.”

“Okay,” Flo said, so quietly you almost didn’t catch it. You ended the call before you or her could say anything else.

You sunk back into your chair, and finally let the tears flow and you held your face in your palms.

Hours later, you were clutching your phone, staring at the screen showing your messages with her, trying so hard to say something, anything. The silence was brutal, but it was one you caused yourself. You didn’t want to bother her, but you couldn’t stand it any longer.

Please don’t be upset with me, I was an asshole.

I can’t stop thinking about you all the fucking time.

I think I have feelings for you.

Sorry about earlier. Work is stressing me out.

Mere minutes later, you received a photo message as a response. Your breath gets caught in your throat when you opened it to see what it was. “For your troubles ,” it read, and it was a picture of her in her underwear in bed.

You leaned back and exhaled a heavy breath, as your hand slowly crept down your body underneath your pants.

But it wasn’t the same. You needed her with you, under you, above you, close to you. You wanted to hold her as you came, as you have been lately, hoping she would feel the affection in return.

You counted down the days that you would be meeting her in New York. She had to do press there for a couple of days, and you agreed to spend some time with each other before she returned to the UK for more press. Your manager wasn’t happy when you decided to book your own ticket after she had refuses to book you one because it wasn’t for ‘professional purposes’.

The hotel you booked was close to hers, just by accident, but you decided to hire a cab to bring her over anyway. You had been waiting patiently when she knocked on your door at around 10 at night.

“Hi,” you said softly, walking backwards to let her in.

“Hi,” she replied, tugging at the back of your neck and kicking off her boots, “I missed you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, couldn’t stop thinking about you, and this,” you let her explore your body because you had been waiting for her to do so for so long.

You collapsed next to her with a heavy sigh, looking over. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes closed and lips parted, her chest rose up and down. She looked so pure like an angel, but also sinful like the devil. Her eyelids peeled open, and her eyes had turned a deep green when she looked over at you.

She was perfect, and you were enraptured by her in every way.

So you captured her lips in a slow kiss. Low hums bubbled in her throat, as she snaked an arm around your waist.

“I love you,” it came out as the fainted whisper. You froze. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“What?” You breathed out.

“I said I love you,” she repeated, locking you in with kisses along your jaw.

“No,“ you pulled away, shaking your head vehemently, “no, you don’t, Flo. Don’t say shit like that.”

“What the fuck?” Why was she offended? “Y/N?”

“You can’t just say stuff like that without any consequences,” you didn’t mean to snap, but you were pacing around too, “we agreed to just fooling around.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. Why are you so pissed about this?”

“Because you’re being unfair!” You exclaimed. “You don’t love me, but I love you, Flo! I love you. And this, all of this is so unfair.”

“Then why did you agree to it?” She frowned.

“Because—“ there was a lump growing in your throat, “because having some of you is better than nothing.”

“God, Y/N,” Flo sat up, and put her hand in her hands, the sheets barely covering her bare chest. “We should have never done this.”

“So you regret it?”

“No, but I wouldn’t have agreed to it if I knew it was so agonizing for you. Like shit, what the hell do you want from me, Y/N?!”

You stood at the foot of the bed, your fists clenching and relaxing. You felt so small. The light from outside the window scarred her face.

“I want you,” you said defeatedly, “I want you to love me the way I love you.”

She looked at you incredulously, “how long have you had feelings for me?”

You looked away. “I don’t know, like ever since we met I felt something. I just never said anything.”

You heard her grumble under her breath. “I-I can’t right now, Y/N. There are things that I still need to work on. It was really hard where I left off with my last relationship.”

“I know,” you took a seat at the edge of the bed, “I’ll wait for you, until you’re ready.”

“I can’t ask you to wait for me.”

“I’ve been waiting for three years,” you smiled sadly, “I can wait a little more.”

You watched her as she wordlessly got up and gathered her clothes to put them back on. You wanted to speak up, but you could only watch like a ghost.

“Thank you, Y/N, for everything you’ve done for me,” she held your hand, and stroked your cheeks tenderly. “I have never taken you for granted, ever. And yes, I do love you.”

She leaned down to kiss your forehead before heading for the door. You felt the tears welling up, but you spoke anyways.

“When you’re ready, you know how to reach me.”

There was a hint of a smile before Florence turned to the door. When it closed, you felt the stillness of the room, void of the rustling of the sheets when she would turn to the side, her quiet hums of a melody she couldn’t get out of her head, the click of her lighter as she goes to light her cigarette. It was you, and your own sounds now, devoid of bliss, devoid of her.

[clareguilty]

Arthur Morgan/reader, desperate sex

Here is my second fic for kinktober! The next should be up on Wdnesday <3

Arthur Morgan/fem!reader | desperate sex, dominant Arthur Mentions of death and injury, mild angst. I made the cowboy cry. Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~2000

“Who goes there?” a gruff voice demanded as you rode up the trail to camp.

“It’s just me, Bill,” you called back, tipping your tattered hat.

“What the hell?!” He blinked and rubbed his eyes like he couldn’t believe you were right in front of him. “You’re alive?”

You grinned, opening your arms wide. “You can’t get rid of me that easy.”

He watched dumbfounded as you rode the rest of the way up to Horseshoe Overlook. You had been gone more than a few days, and your worst fear was that the gang would have packed up and left. The job had gone terribly -- so terribly you had been stranded and lost with no way back -- which was a good reason for the gang to move on to somewhere where the law didn’t know their faces.

But everything was exactly the same. People milled about, scrubbing or packing or chopping. Dutch’s gramophone played on, louder than a dynamite blast and seemingly never ending.

“What in god’s name?” Hosea took one look at you, bruised and battered and covered in every inch of wilderness you had hiked through trying to get back to camp.

“Glad to see y’all are still here.” You groaned in pain as you slid out of the saddle, smacking your ‘borrowed’ horse on the rump and pointing her back to the road. “Go on, girl. Find your way back home.”

The horse slowly headed back the way it came. Hosea was staring at you.

“I know,” you frowned. “I look terrible.”

“No,” Hosea waved his hand, shaking his head. “It’s not that -- though you do look like shit. We thought you were dead. We mourned you.”

It was your turn to look taken aback. “Dead? You gave up on me that quick?”

“Sweetheart.” He gripped your arm as if he was still trying to convince himself you were real. “You fell off a bridge. Those rapids… the rocks…” he trailed off.

You grimaced. “It certainly wasn’t my best performance.”

“There wasn’t any time to go back and look for you, but we weren’t even sure we would have found a body.” He looked ashamed. “We failed you.”

“No,” you took his hands in yours, squeezing. “You did what you had to do. I couldn’t bear it if you had lost someone trying to come back for me.”

Sean was walking by, bottle in hand. He did a double take when he saw you standing there, glanced at his bottle, and then back at you. “You mean Dutch gave that long fancy speech for nothing? You had better not die again.”

You laughed and shot him a wink. “I don’t plan on it.”

Sean seemed satisfied with that response. “Your man’s been a right mess since we lost you. Hopefully he quits moping around all the time now.”

“Arthur?” you glanced around. “Is he alright? Where is he?”

Sean shrugged. “Probably the same place he’s been for a week now.”

You turned to Hosea, desperate. “Where?”

“He’s been at his wagon mostly. I didn’t want him going out in the state he’s been in.”

His words only made you more worried. You had finally made it back to camp. All you had been able to think about -- the only thing on your mind as you clawed your way out that ravine and stumbled through the woods -- was that you had to get back to him. You couldn’t leave him. “Is he hurt? Did something happen?”

Hosea didn’t get the chance to answer. Whispers of your arrival back at camp must have spread fast, because Mary-Beth was dragging Arthur by the arm to where you and Hosea were standing.

“Arthur.” You were running -- as fast as you could move with all your injuries and exhaustion. He finally saw you, freezing in place and staring in disbelief.

You slammed into his chest, flinging your arms around him.

He hesitated before returning your embrace, leaning in to bury his face in the crook of your neck. The two of you stood there for a long while as you sniffled into his chest. Arthur held you tightly, as if you would disappear if he let go.

“Isn’t this sweet,” a familiar booming voice rang out. “Glad to see you alive and well, dear.” You didn’t even turn to look at Dutch. Not when Arthur was clinging to you.

The ground disappeared beneath your feet and you found yourself hoisted over Arthur’s shoulder. The crowd that had gathered around the two of you dispersed as he stalked across camp. The world flipped right side up again as Arthur sat you on his horse, swinging into the saddle behind you and taking off at a full gallop.

You made it to Valentine in record time. The ride was harsh and agitated your injuries, but you didn’t mind with Arthur at your back. He helped you down to the ground and practically carried you inside the hotel, slamming the door open. “A room for me and my wife, please,” he demanded.

The hotel clerk handed over the key. You clung to Arthur the whole way up the stairs, nuzzling against him and just glad to be near him again.

The lock clicked behind you and Arthur… changed. His embrace became more insistent. His eyes darkened. The edge of the bed hit the backs of your knees and Arthur laid you down. It was gentle, but he pressed you into the bed, climbing over you. “Where are you hurt?” he asked.

“It’s not too bad-” you tried to play it off.

He cut you off. “Where. Are. You. Hurt.”

It was terrifying, but thrilling. You shivered under his intense gaze. “My hip,” you grabbed one of his hands and gently lay his palm over your hip. “Makes walking and riding hard.”

He nodded. Clearly waiting for you to continue. “My back is pretty messed up, and my shoulder.”

He noticed the rips and tears in your shirt. All the places you had scraped or torn. His hands went to the buttons, lifting you carefully so he could get you out of the sleeves.

Your trousers were next, slowly pulled down over your hips. When you winced in pain, Arthur stopped to kiss you, cradling your face in his hands.

He stripped you down. His expression was pained as he took in the full extent of your injuries. You had fallen off of the rail bridge and gotten swept into the freezing rapids. The current slammed you into the rocks and swept you down the ravine before you washed up on the bank of the river. From there, it had been a grueling process of making your way out of the ravine and through the woods.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” you reassured him. Glancing down, you got a good look at just what he saw. “It does look pretty bad, though,” you frowned.

Arthur’s expression was hard to read. You wondered if he was disgusted by you. It would take a long time to heal, and you knew he might not want to look at you while you were so beat up and battered.

He nearly collapsed on top of you. Luckily, he knew to brace his weight. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, breaths ragged.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he gasped. “I didn’t know what I was going to do.”

You reached up to run your fingers through his hair. “I’m still here,” you promised. “Busted and bruised to hell, but I’m not gone yet, honey.”

He kissed his way along his jaw until he found your lips. It was perfect. You had missed him so much, so worried you would never make it back to him. But now you were here in his arms and kissing him. 

“I love you,” you said as soon as you caught your breath.

“I love you so much, darling.” He hovered his hands just above your skin, too scared to touch you.

You placed your hands over his and guided it to where you weren’t scraped or bruised. “Touch  me,” you begged.

He sighed as soon as he felt your skin against his palms, as if he just needed to know you were really there.

“I need you,” you tried to pull him against you, attempting to slot your hips together. “Please, Arthur.”

He hesitated. You could see the desire in his eyes, how badly he needed you, needed to feel you. But he didn’t want to hurt me. You would have to convince him.

“Arthur,” you grabbed the waistband of his pants. “I fell off a bridge and climbed out of a ravine and walked across half the damn state. I want you to fuck me, and I don’t care if it hurts.”

He seemed dazed, but lust clearly won out as you tried to slide your hand under his shirt. He was undressed in seconds, kissing his way over your neck and unable to keep his hands off you.

The pain was bearable, and you were too distracted with the warmth of Arthur’s skin under your hands. You couldn’t get enough of him, so glad to be near to him after all of those cold nights in the wild. 

He was impatient, desperate. He wanted all of you at once, and he didn’t know where to start. Now that you had given permission, he wasn’t afraid to take what he needed. And take he did. He sucked a mark into your collarbone before kissing down to your chest. You gasped as his lips found your breasts, teeth scraping along the skin.

“Please,” you rocked your hips.

He got the message, gently pressing your thighs apart so he could stroke your clit. It felt so good. The stretch when he slipped two fingers inside made you cry out. You sighed and pulled him closer, winding your fingers in his hair as he pulled moans and gasps from your lips.

“That’s it,” he said. “Good girl. I wanna hear you.” He doubled his efforts, determined to make you come around his fingers.

You pulled him up for a searing kiss, biting his lip as you came. “Fuck me,” you breathed.

He was just as needy, cock hard and aching against your hips. He grabbed your less injured leg and hooked it around his hip, dragging his cock against your slit. The teasing was going to drive you mad, but luckily he was just as impatient. He sank into you with one slow motion.

He hissed a curse against your skin, lost in the feeling of you around his cock. “God, darling. Need you so bad.”

He didn’t even try to start slow, setting a quick, frantic pace as soon as he began to move. His fingers dug into the bruises on your skin, but you didn’t mind the pain. It only reminded you that Arthur was there, that you had made it home to him.

You were so close, clinging to each other so desperately. You couldn’t imagine what Arthur had been through the past several days. He had truly believed you were gone, he had been in mourning. While you were focused on not getting eaten by wildlife, he was grieving your death.

It made sense why he couldn’t keep his hands off of you, why he sighed so deeply every time his hips met yours. The way he drank the taste of your lips as if he could never get his fill. You gave him everything you could.

The two of you went three rounds that night, fighting through your exhaustion in a desire to be close to one another. You fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms, curled together on the rickety hotel bed.

“I can’t stop seeing it,” he whispered, unable to take his eyes off you. “The sight of you falling off that bridge, the way you just disappeared. It’s kept me awake every night.”

You can see it. The dark circles under his eyes, how haggard and underfed he looks. You can only imagine how broken up he must have been.

“Not tonight,” you leaned in to kiss his cheek. “You have me here, safe and sound.”

[lemonnsss]

Eli Moskowitz x Male!Theatre Kid!Reader Headcanons

A/N: Sorry this isn’t a fic, I’ve been sick all week and I’m now starting to get over it, I plan to have the fic matching up with the HCs soon. Sidenote: I might make a part two. Without further ado

•Eli’s favorite musical has to be the phantom of the opera. I mean it gives an accurate representation of how shitty it is living with significant scarring in our society

•But TPotO’s soundtrack isn’t his favorite, that would be Heathers

•And even before y’all had met, Eli knew all of the lyrics to the entire soundtrack 

•When he heard that your school was doing Heathers this season he was so excited

•When it came time to go through… a completely different story

•Dimitri had to haul his ass back to school so he could watch it with his friend

•He was so nervous to go to the showing because he was scared that one of his karate bros would see him walk in and mock him for it

•Much to his surprise Miguel, Aisha, and Moon are all there and are about as shocked to see him as he is to see them

•Mrs. LaRusso would drag along all of the LaRussos there as well, just in a different section (We all know she supports the school & its students, even if she is a bit mortified after ‘Dead Girl Walking’)

•Even though he feels like he doesn’t need to be so guarded because he knows his karate bros are there and won’t mess with him he's still struggling trying not to sing (this man's initiative ended the moment ‘Fight For Me’ started)

•And when he first sees you, up on the stage, his eyes are glued to your figure. Mentally saying something along the lines of, “How can someone be confident enough to do that?”

•Babe, theatre kids are a whole ass different breed when it comes to being on stage

•Ngl thinks you’re really cute - everyone can tell

•When you look out into the audience during, ‘Me Inside of Me’ you don't expect to see anyone looking at only you, then you see him. 

•His eyes shine brightly with wonder, admiration, and attraction - so much so that you have to look away because of how flushed you are.

•Ram’s actor is just looking at you like you’re fucking crazy, “Bro, I thought Kurt’s actor and I were supposed to be the ay ones? Weird.” 

•After the show Eli always, and I mean always, checks when the next musical is gonna happen and what it’ll be

•The next show is Sweeney Todd, and this boy is excited

•When opening night hit he was practically vibrating with excitement

•Something he didn’t take into account is the burning rage he felt during the “Kiss Me” scene

•He ended up leaving early so he wouldn’t have to see you kiss someone (that wasn’t him)

•Later he felt bad for feeling that possessive and jealous over someone who wasn’t even his. It was then and there that he decided that the next time he saw you, he would ask you out

•Luckily for him when school starts up again the two of you share several classes

•And he never ended up asking you out every time he walked near your direction he chickened out

•Can anyone guess what happened after that…  he started dating moon 

•During their relationship, you never really ended up talking to him, although you were pretty good friends with Moon before the two of them started dating

•After Moon broke up with him though her immediate reaction was to call you and tell you he was single (and also to ask him out when he stopped acting like a dumbass)

•Once he started acting like he had a brain again one of the first things you did was ask him out

•Thank fucking God you did because  he would never, honestly he was so shocked that you’d even consider him after all the dumb shit he’d done

•I mean, honestly, why would any guy like you get involved with someone like him

•He ends up standing there so long that you think he’s rejecting you

•So once you start walking away he pipes up, “Golf N’Stuff, Saturday, 6 P.M. don’t be late,” to which you just nod your head

•He ends up being a few minutes late because of practice

•And y’all know that the entire dojo is non-discreetly stalking the two of you throughout the entire date until the two of you split up for the night

[broadwayandnetflix]

i have a request for bo burnham!!:) maybe like the reader and bo watch the special when he gets done editing it and doing all the other stuff he has to do for it, and he records her reaction to the whole thing and that’s how he announces the special?? i know that’s weird but it’s been stuck in my head, so you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to!

Test Run - Bo Burnham x Reader

Warnings: Language

Theme: FLUFF (angst if you like squint)

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: y’all I wrote this so fast, like kachow. I hope you enjoyed it, and got a break from all of the angst. but angst is still good. but this fic is not me fangirling over inside. never, couldn’t be me. I hope you enjoyed the fic though @bos-a-feminist I had sm fun writing it.

It had been late one evening when Bo had practically burst into the door of your bedroom. You sat puzzled as you gave the man time to catch his breath, as he gave you an eager look.

Trying not to giggle as Bruce yipped at Bo’s feet in pure excitement, it seemed he too was trying to figure out what was going on.

“What? Are we finally gonna have sex again?” you say humorously, causing the man to break composure for just a second.

“No! I mean what the fuck? Yes, yes, and to answer your question, yes. But not right now.”

You giggle as he looks at you with an expression you couldn’t fully decipher. In any constellation, it had been months since you had seen the man this energetic.

Usually, when Bo would come back from his long days in the guest house, he’d tend to be exhausted. Often just giving you a quick kiss before collapsing onto the mattress.

His blue eyes softening towards you as he extends his hand for you to take. Which made you realize that there was an ounce of seriousness in his actions.

Your hands fitting perfectly in his as he pulls you up from the bed, one hand making sure to hold the small of your back.

“Where are we going?” you breathe out.

Bo remained silent, but you found out soon enough as he led you outside to the guest house.

You had stopped dead in your tracks, causing him to do the same. Eyes widening as you realized what was gonna happen, turning to Bo and giving him the biggest grin you could muster.

From the minute he had set foot in the guest house to begin his special, he had been very secretive about it. Something about how it helped him to create something that no one really knew about.

I mean, you had some idea when the UPS trucks kept delivering camera equipment. Or when he had asked if he could take some of your clothes. Other than that, though, top secret.

It had been about roughly a little over a year when he had started the special. A year of emotions and hard work, and by the looks of it.

It seemed as though he had finished.

“Wait are you doing what I think you are doing?” you say, looking at him expectedly.

“Shit babe you catch on quick. Yes, if we are on the same mindset. I think we are, now hush, or I’ll never get to show you it.” Bo instructs before leading you inside.

In all honesty, you didn’t know what to expect. The last time you had seen the guest house had been roughly two years ago. Now? It looked completely different.

Wires and different camera equipment lay waste on the floor, making it almost a hazard. Other lights of various types and sizes filled the room like mini metal trees. It looked disorganized and yet organized at the same time.

Yet Bo walked through the maze of equipment with ease, almost as if it wasn’t even there. You smiled before tiptoeing to the clearing that Bo had made for you.

“Yeah apologies, I wasn’t expecting company.” Bo smirks as you break into laughter.

“It looks…well it looks well used.” you reply, getting comfortable on the chair he had provided.

In front of you sat a projection on the wall of what seemed to be an editing software. You looked back at Bo with an eager grin; he gives you a slight wink.

Anticipation settling in the air as you watched him mess around with the monitor. Until his cursor finally presses on a folder and a video screen pulls up.

You half expected him to sit beside you. Still, instead, he remains behind the computer, amongst his sea of technological instruments and cameras.

“Y/N, I’m showing this to you. Simply because you deserve to see why I’ve been so busy for like a year or more. Plus, you mean the world to me and I wanna know your input.”

Bo says softly. You can detect a hint of nerves in his actions and tone; you practically melt, realizing that was he anxious. Regardless you knew without a shadow of a doubt you were gonna love whatever he puts out.

You open your mouth to reply before he presses play, and an eerie ringing fills the room. Music filling your senses as the special, titled Inside, plays before you.

The next hour or two fills you with a multitude of emotions that you can’t quite place. It seemed like Bo was making you laugh seconds ago, and now you can’t help but feel tears well up in your eyes.

Cinematically it was stunning, breathtaking even. It was hard to believe that Bo had turned the little guest house into a studio. Or at least to the extent that it became, with its gorgeous displays and production.

Performance-wise, it was a completely different ballpark. Bo fucking delivered in more ways than one, whether in humor or just pure raw emotion.

Acting or not, it broke your heart to see the man you loved so dearly in the state that he was in. Of course, you could tell something was up even then when he was filming, but he never gave away the extent of it.

Just hearing him cry made your stomach twist in knots; you wanted to comfort him. Only to be reminded that it was just merely a video of him.

Even at the moment, it took you everything not to look back at Bo; you knew how much he valued your attention. Plus, you wanted to experience the special in full, just as you would if he were on stage.

The special wasn’t the same as his others, but it was well needed for a time like this. It felt personal and introspective, but it was also oh so clever and in-depth. You adored it and the time and effort that he had put into it.

As the credits rolled out and you saw an acknowledgment for your name, your heart soared.

You knew that the two of you had worked hard to be there for each other the past year. Especially with everything that was going on and Bo working most of the time.

To know that you had helped him in any shape or form. It just meant a lot, in more ways than he’d ever know.

The lights in the room flickered on as if he had made a make-shift movie theatre. You wiped away any stray tears, and before he could even say anything, you ran into his arms.

Bo jolting back in surprise before accepting the embrace and holding you tighter into his chest. His head resting gently on top of yours due to his taller stature.

“God I love you so much, more than you’ll ever know. I seriously don’t know if I would’ve made it out alive this past year if I didn’t have you.” he croaked into your hold.

It took you a second to realize that the man was crying, and you pulled away to meet his eyes. Your fingers brushing away his tears before reaching up to give him a kiss.

His figure bending down just a tad to meet your lips as he kisses you back sweetly. It’s light and yet so filled with passion for making up for what time that had been lost.

Yet as he looks down at you, a smile etching across his lips. As he asks you about what your thoughts are on his special, he already knows your response.

Unbeknownst to you, he had recorded your entire viewing experience. Of course, if he were to ever share it anywhere, he’d ask your permission, but it was apparent.

Even as you told him how much you loved it and how much you enjoyed it. You knew that he knew that you understood the special the way he had intended it.

It was one of the many things that made him adore you endlessly. You meant the world to him.

“We should celebrate babe! Maybe order a pizza or something.” you exclaim, arms still wrapped around his neck in your embrace.

“We definitely should, but what pizza places are open at this hour?” Bo smirks as you give him a slight frown.

“I don’t know, that’s a good question.” you hesitate.

“Actually I do know one place that’s really good and delivers.” Bo whispers seductively up against your ear.

You giggle and gesture for him to continue as he swiftly pulls away from your hold. His hand outstretched for you to take once again as he leads you towards the house. Or, more importantly, towards your bedroom.

“Me.”

——————————————————————------------------------------------

Bo sat anxiously beside you as his fingers lingered over the ‘post’ button on his different social media accounts.

The post in question was a video that he stitched together of you watching the special. With your consent, of course.

It had been edited together to be vague enough that he wouldn’t spoil the special. But nonetheless, it was sweet, and he totally made sure to include you tearing up in it.

You made it a priority to tackle him for that one.

The video was sweet and short, but it got the intended message across, and you personally loved it, just like you loved Bo and the special.

“Any-day now Robert.” you tease as you hold his one hand in yours.

“Do you think that they’ll wanna watch it?” he whispers quietly.

“Of course they will, it’s you. Baby you are so talented, your fans will be so excited.” you reassure.

Bo sighs before squeezing your one hand tightly before pressing the button. And letting Inside out into the world.

[corysmiles]

wait so does tommy live with wilbur in the Little Streamer au?? or does he just visit often?

could we get a "moving in together" fic with lots of fluff and nose cuddles??

Moving In

little streamer fluff

Notes: This idea was so cute i had to write it, and yes Tommy does move in with Wilbur in this au! While I know Tommy’s not moving in with Wilbur irl, it makes more sense for it to happen in the ls au since tiny apartments (that aren’t just in humans houses) are basically nonexistent. Also, this is probably the fluffiest thing I’ve written in a while so I hope y’all enjoy it :D <3

—————

It never really struck Wilbur what Tommy moving in would actually entail. On a basic level, he knew the tiny would be around more. He knew he’d have to add tiny amenities and make sure Tommy could actually access everything he needed. He knew Tommy had signed on to help pay rent (even though he protested). But actually seeing him there in his room in the earliest hours of the day, when the coffee hadn’t finished brewing and the bustle of Brighton was little more than a hum, felt more important than he could have ever imagined.

Wilbur had started his routine as soon as he woke up, knowing they had early streams planned for the day. He’d stumbled through the kitchen half-awake throwing eggs on a pan and a pod into his key rig before the thought that Tommy was there even struck him. He had to admit, he almost passed it off as a dream when he woke up. The idea that Tommy was not an hour away but only a few steps seemed too strange to be true. Yet, as he quietly padded his way back into his bedroom, his eyes were drawn to Tommy's makeshift room sitting on top of his desk. It was little more than a square of wood with a sleek maroon door attached and a tiny window carved into the side. It wasn't what Wilbur had initially wanted, but his landlord made it clear he wouldn't allow him to dig a hole in the wall for Tommy. 

Sleepily, he crossed to the other side of the room to grab clothes for the day before his thoughts once again drifted to the tiny just a few steps away. He really needed to get up since they had to leave in a little less than an hour, and Tommy had never been one to listen to his alarms. With amusement, Wilbur thought that if he really wanted he could pick up the room like a dollhouse and shake it until the teen woke up, although he knew Tommy would give him shit the rest of the day if he chose to do so.

So instead he knelt down next to the table. He hesitated for a second before he carefully tapped his knuckle against the door. The wood creaked under the pressure and for a second Wilbur was scared the whole thing would collapse. Even though he set up the room himself it felt different now that he knew someone was actually inside it. Like if he so much as touched it it would collapse on the tiny inside (and with his handiwork he wouldn’t be too surprised).

Carefully Wilbur knocked again and this time a loud groan drifted through the thin walls. 

“Wakey wakey,” Wilbur’s lips curled up in amusement, “We’ve got shit to do.”

For a few more seconds the only sound in the room came from the whirring of the fan above him and the hum of the AC before the small door creaked open. Tommy walked out like every step was a weight dragging him down. A deep frown was plastered on his face and even though his hand-stitched pajama pants were dragging against the floor he made no move to roll them up. Instead, he just glared at Wilbur like it wasn’t the tiny who had planned the vlog for the day.

“You fucker, why’d you have to knock so goddamn loud,” Tommy grumbled, rubbing his eyes with his fist.

Wilbur shrugged, only half-apologetic, “You’re being dramatic- And it’s not like you would have woken up anyway. We both fucking know that.”

In defiance, Tommy stuck his tongue out and crossed his arms, “Mememe I’m Wilbur and I’m a dick who hates people getting rest.”

Wilbur couldn’t help but laugh at the tiny’s twisted expression even though it was aimed at him. Truly, the best thing about having Tommy around was that he could actually fight back against his insults. 

Slowly, he inched his hand closer to Tommy from the side, carefully watching to make sure the tiny wouldn't catch on, “Oh I’m the dick? Last time I checked, I'm not the one who planned a vlog at 9AM.”

“Mm, you're still an arse though,” Tommy grinned.

Finally giving in, the tiny stepped back to his room, probably to get dressed. However, as soon as he turned his head away, Wilbur took his chance. He darted his hand forward and trapped the teen in his fingers.

"Wilbur you fuck!" Tommy shouted as he pushed and pulled at Wilbur's skin, "If you want us to get there I need to change."

"Mmm, but you're so small I just want to hold you," Wilbur grinned slyly, "And the vlog's not that big of a deal; we can reschedule for a better time."

Wilbur erupted with laughter as Tommy spat out as many curses as he could come up with, some much more "flavorful" than others. He winced a bit as Tommy pinched the skin between his fingers, but still, he refused to let go of the tiny. Instead, he carefully pulled him to his face and squished his cheek against his closed fist.

"My grumpy little baby man," Wilbur cooed, earning even more shouts and curses from the tiny.

Tommy struggled harder and this time when he pushed up against his confines, Wilbur relaxed his grip just a bit. Immediately, Tommy's head shot up, red painting his cheeks.

"I can't fucking believe you," Tommy seethed, "I chose to live with you and I get this bullshit?"  �� 

"What else did you expect?" Wilbur laughed before gently placing the struggling teen back onto the desk, "Didn't hurt you right?"

"No, but I still am demoting you on my list of favorite men," Tommy huffed as he ran his hands through his hair to fix the mess Wilbur had made. 

Wilbur's smile grew as he turned his attention back away from the tiny, "I think I can live with that."

As much as his body ached to sleep in, he knew Tommy was excited about the vlog. The tiny had been almost bursting with excitement the night before, so Wilbur wouldn't deny him that. And he had to admit he was pretty excited to meet up with Phil and Kristen too. 

Quickly, Wilbur slipped on his shoes and his glasses from his bedside table before going back out to the kitchen. The eggs were a little more fried than he would have preferred, but getting to mess with Tommy was worth it. He moved across the counter preparing food for both of them. The tiny plates and cups were a bit hard for him to hold, but he still made do with only a couple of spills. 

Tommy wasn't back out yet, but he knew he was probably still getting dressed. For a kid with very few clothes (most of which Wilbur made for him), he took forever to get ready. So instead of waiting, Wilbur sat down at the table and carefully arranged Tommys' food beside his own plate. It almost seemed comical how gigantic his food was compared to Tommy's, but still, it made him smile to have the tiny living with him.

By the time he was done with his eggs, a small scratching sound came from below the table. His eyes glanced down from his phone, and sure enough, Tommy was climbing up the ladder he had bolted onto the table leg. 

"Sorry the eggs are a little burnt," Wilbur said as he pushed Tommy's plate towards him with the tip of his finger, "And I wasn't sure if you'd drink it but I got you a cup of coffee."

Tommy froze and stared down at the perfectly-sized utensils Wilbur had bought before he'd arrived. And for the millionth time, Wilbur wished he could see into Tommy's brain to see just what he was thinking. He hoped there was nothing wrong with the utensils because it had been nearly impossible to find them in the first place.

"Oh-" Tommy frowned, "You didn't have to get this shit for me Will, really."

Wilbur shrugged and motioned for Tommy to sit on the small cushion he'd attached to the table. It was really just a pillow he'd stapled on, so he hoped Tommy didn't mind.

"Nah, I wanted to," Wilbur said as he took a sip of his coffee.

"But-"

"No 'but's, I'm not hearing that shit today," Wilbur said sternly, "Now eat, we have to leave soon."

Tommy still looked unsure, but he finally sat down on the maroon cushion. Wilbur studied his every move as he picked up one of the tiny forks and took a bite of the eggs. To his pleasure, the tiny didn't immediately spit it out or seem that grossed out by his cooking. 

Tommy swallowed and wiped his mouth with his wrist before looking back up at Wilbur. The human flushed at being caught watching him, but luckily Tommy didn't seem upset.

"Thanks, Will," Tommy smiled, "You're still a dick, but thanks."

Wilbur snorted and jokingly poked Tommy with his pointer finger, almost knocking him over. The tiny yelped and tried to fight back, waving his hands like he was trying to do karate.

"Ay fuck off I'm eating," Tommy laughed.

Amused, Wilbur shook his head and went back to his coffee while Tommy scarfed down his food beside him. They both knew they'd have to leave soon so there was little talking besides a few jokes back and forth. When Wilbur finally finished the last drops of his coffee he let his eyes wander back to the boy who was scrolling on his phone. As annoying as he could be, Wilbur couldn't help the warmth that filled his chest like a fire in a storm. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so happy in his own home, and it was only the first day with the tiny. With Tommy, even getting up early didn't feel so bad. 

Once the time hit eight they both packed up the rest of their things for the long train ride. Tommy happily let Wilbur hold him on their walk there, and then for the hour they were stuck onboard, Tommy made Wilbur hold him up so he could see through the window. His arms ached by the end and his chest hurt from laughing, but Wilbur was happy, truly happy. And later that night, when they both arrived back home exhausted from work, they would fall asleep on the couch- Tommy curled up against the side of Wilbur’s nose, ready to do it all again the next morning.

[minshookie]

High Ransom.

Pairing |Mafia!BTS x innocent!reader

Genre | smut, angst, dark themed, mafia AU.

Summary | “They all knew your mothers word was good for nothing, she’d never pay it back. So they settled for a painful compromise.”

!warnings! Please read this before reading the fic| 18+ mature language, perverse actions, virginity loss, violent sex, anal sex, oral fem and male receiving, financial struggle, parent death, strict and neglecting mother, cum eating, darcyphilia, urolagnia,slight hate-fuck,reader insert is of age, extremely naive & innocent insert. I do not agree or support any actions depicted in this fictional work,rape. !!NON-CON!! !!non-con!!

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|

(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [open for request] words: 4k.

A/N: 200 Follwers?! Hi, I love y’all sm 🤧. But on a serious note, this is the filthiest thing I’ve ever written, I warned y’all. Also the longest one of written yet. I hope it isn’t too much :’) please excuse any mistakes or grammatical errors.

Could they be running late? Shivering you sat in the windowsill towel wrapped around you keeping a sharp eye for their large dark SUV you loved so dearly. They were supposed to be here today, right? Getting up you stretch your legs going to look at your heavily decorated calendar,‘Friends Day!!’ In bright pink informed you, yes indeed they were to be here today.

A smile crept on your face, the confirmation made you feel giddy, the thought of seeing them again made you excited beyond belief. “Y/n I just know you’re dressed and not dripping all over the carpet!” Your mother teased from the living room. You swore she had cameras on you, unraveling yourself you chose one of the few outfits she had put together for you for guest appearances. Closing the curtains, making them look as casual as you could. You then sat on the bed waiting for her to come inspect, counting her footsteps along the creaking wood floors. She crept into your room, a stern expression on her face, you could tell she was stressed with nothing positive to say she mumbled “Stop pulling that face you look exactly like your father.”

You stood from the drab mattress choosing not to respond, “wet spot on the floor?! What’d I tell you to do?!” You hung your head, why must she always scold you. “You told me to get dressed Momma.” She sighed, “and you chose to come in here and prance around, flood the floors and dilly dally instead!” You studied the minuscule dark spots on the carpet, “they’ll dry momma.” You whispered under your breath hoping she wouldn’t decipher your response.

“Excuse me?” She griped your cheek in a pinch making you pull your head up to face her. She took a step back releasing your face, she sucked her teeth in disapproval. “Y/n you’ll have stay in here, that dress has gotten too short on you.” She knew her words hurt you, seeing the boys was the only thing you looked forward to every month. Their attention sometimes felt like your only reason to go forward, to avoid conflict with your mother, their presence being a type of reward. She turned to go and your vision began to blur, tears warmly cascade your plumped cheek.

Leaving you alone in the room, you resume your position in the windowsill moving the curtains just enough to peak. Still no sign of them, maybe they’d given up on the money, left you for good and you couldn’t blame them. If you could leave you would too. At that moment all hopes were given up, no longer keeping an eye out you began to daydream... at least Momma would be happier no longer having to worry about the escalating debt.

Sulking in loneliness you barely noticed a white SUV pulling into their usual cut....whose this? You opened the curtains repositioning,hands in the glass knees on the jagged wood of the windowsill bench. Couldn’t be, oh but it was! You bounced like a hyperactive child, Hoseok climbed from the drivers seat handsomely waving directly at you. They all followed offering you waves and air kisses making both your stomach and heart do flips. Tumbling from the bench you run to your door eccentric to get your fix of attention, affection, friendship.

“Get back y/n, what did I say?” She was waiting for you to break her command, she knew you’d forget. “To stay in my ro-” “so why don’t you do as told for once?” You fought the bitter tears as they knocked on the door, You shuffled back into your cage of room like a kicked puppy. Shutting the door you sat on the floor compressing your ear along the hard wood.

“Ah, welcome! Come in take a seat can I get you a drink or a meal? Anything really.” She spoke with a quiver, she had nothing to pay them back with absolute zilch. “Where’s y/n?” You smiled warmly, that voice had to be Taehyung. “She’s in bed sick.” “Sick, she looked alright from the window.” Hoseok you idiot. “I’m sorry... you saw her through the window?”

“Ah Ah, we didn’t come to talk about the build of y/n’s room you know what he want.” Jin was all serous business, the room was silent. “Next month for sure.” She lied right through her teeth and they all knew it. “You said that last month, and the month before, and the month before that.” You held your breath, you hated it when they bickered she honestly didn’t have the money you two only lived in this house because it was your father’s property, and everything you got just by luck and the skin of your teeth. She simply couldn’t afford to borrow anymore, as the boys began to add impossible interest.

“Listen, we’ve let you off the hook because of your circumstances,we had a soft spot, we held you at a respect for your strength...but now the well is drying up on patience and your debt is growing into a monstrosity.” Namjoon gave his spiel

“Your husband may be dead, but honey you’re next if this money doesn’t turn up...and the plans they have for y/n aren’t cute, if you had any decency you’d get your ass off that insurance money and pay up, don’t forget you pay for protection and soon you’re going to start getting what you pay for.” Yoongi was rude whenever he came to collect, almost never staying for the excuses once ‘no’ or ‘later’ was uttered he’d head for the door, but today he decided to do otherwise.

The room fell quiet, and though your mother was cold and not much of a mother at all to you it pained you to hear her sobs and sniffing. You could tell the words being thrown at her stung her deeply. Curious to what was going on behind your door you decided to have a peak, and apparently you weren’t too good at sneaking. Your door cracked ajar, as if he knew it would happen you made direct eye contact with Taehyung.

“Boys I-I don’t know what you want from me you know the money isn’t in my possession right n-” “y/n! Come out from hiding kitten!” Opening the door you stood reading the room, your mothers face glistening, you know better than to disobey on purpose. “It’s ok y/n c’mon we want to see you.” Joon’s smile is so captivating his voice so relaxing, but your mothers gaze killed its power. “C’mon tell her she can come out.” Jin orders and your mother complies by giving you a nod of permission, sniffing over her concealed cries. It ached your but you were too excited to comfort her as you quickly escaped your confines.

“Ohh look at your pretty dress, come sit.” Taehyung pulled you onto his lap, “isn’t it pretty boys?” He pulled the fringes that decorated the bottom, barely reaching you mid thigh. “Everything’s beautiful on our y/n.” Jimin agrees, greeting you with a flirtatious wink. Making you smile into Taehyung’s chest. “Bashful girl.” His large hand rubbed your back soothingly.

“This delicate little thing around all those men with no one to help her, tsk could you imagine.” He glided his hand along your exposed thigh “that tickles.” Whispering into him you feel you face warm up. He hums in response, “want me to stop?” “No, I’ve missed you, I’ve missed all of you!” You turned catching all of their gazes, “same to you princess.” Jin chuckled, giving you a cheek kiss.

“Please let her-r go ba-ck now.” Their smiles faded, and you’d hate to admit it but yours as well. You’d usually never go against your mother but she just didn’t want to see you happy, ever. And you hated it. “Momma...I don’t wanna go back right now, can I be with my friends?” Her eyes stretched in shock and anger, the boys found your rebellion comedic letting a chuckle escape. “Y/n get back to your room now you have no clue what you’re playing with!” Her tone made you wince, no longer feeling bold you were about to comply. Taehyung griped your waist holding you back on top of him.

“And who are you to order someone around when you can’t follow orders yourself?” She sat speechless, “Taehyung, Namjoon, Jin...next month.” Her pleads were pathetic, even you knew it wouldn’t work this time. “No. Pay up today, or we’ll be taking some sweet sweet collateral.”At the moment you didn’t fully understand or care what exactly Taehyung was threatening, the only thing your brain could focus on being his rough palm griping and rubbing your inner thigh. The sensation caused a tingle within you, you couldn’t help but fidget in his lap. “Still tickling baby?” You nodded, a bit too flustered to speak.

“I-I I have a hundred or two I can give.” His hand ceased its motions, making you whine for more of the foreign feeling. He lifted a brow in suspect “You take us as a joke don’t you?” She shook her head frantically. “You just offered us not even a fraction of a year's worth of debt...you think we’re idiots, you think we won’t do what we say we will do you?” The tension made you uncomfortable as everyone glared at your mother for her response, you gripped Taehyung’s dark suit. “Hmph, okay Y/n, show us your pretty room Love.”

A simple request made your mother stand in protests, “going to get the rest of the money?” Yoongi asked knowingly, your mother trembled. Why was she so afraid, they only asked to see your room...maybe she was still upset over the wet spots. “No? Well I suggest you sit the fuck down.” Everyone left from their seat, “go on show us Petal.” He smiled in encouragement. You pulled Taehyung by his hand showing all of them into your seemingly empty room, nothing to embellish the space besides your curtains, calendar and bed.

“Very cute, very cute, right boys?” They hummed nodding while looking at the four bland walls around them. “Jungkook won’t you close the door please.” He demands the youngest, and he does as told, letting your catch a two second glance if your sniveling mother before your fate was sealed. “Lock it will you?” “Uhm it doesn’t lock.” You confessed plopping down on your plush mattress kicking your feet over the edge. “Ahh, Jungkook...make it lock.” He went to work and you watched curiously until your attention was taken by Taehyung climbing in bed next to you. “Very comfy.” He complemented.

“Oh, oh please take your shoes off.” You recited rules that were practically engraved in your memory. He laughed complying, “you heard her, shoes off.” They did as told, making your laugh at their unison actions. You turned to him with a smile still on your face, “want to see my closet?” “No, but I do want you to lay down.” You gave him an inquisitive look, you weren’t sick and you definitely weren’t tired. “It’s ok, I just wanted to play a game, a friends game.”

Oh how excited you were! A game with your friends! You laid down beside him your head rested on your pillow. “Ready?” You nodded eagerly, the rest of them watched closely. “Ok beautiful, I’m going to ask you some things and all you have to do is tell me if you’ve done it before...” he looked around at his men, they looked back with anticipation. “We’ll all play.” You nodded, beyond excited for this new experience.

“We’ll start easy, have you ever kissed someone?” Your face grew a dopey grin, “don’t be shy.” You nodded quickly, “oh? Show me how.” Sitting up a bit, you took his jaw, turning him to the side pecking his warmed cheek quickly. He smiled widely, “innocent little thing, here let’s try this.” He took your jaw in his fingers, coming in and ravishing your lips. Unknowingly you lay motionless as he took over the kiss, maneuvering you as he pleased. Pulling your slack chin he parted your lips, his tongue intruded sharing his taste. A tingle ran through you, you’ve never seen something like this let alone feel it. Taehyung pulled back trailing slobber as he lifted, “m-more more kissing!” He shook his head, laughing at your greed. “No no, there’s more to the game.”

Smirking he snuck his hand under your quaint dress, “ever let Somebody like me see your cute little panties?” You shook your head no, “let us see?” You eagerly pulled your dress up, “pretty in pink...wet your panties hmm?” Sheepishly you shut your legs, “sorry.” He rubbed your exposed tummy, “no don’t be sorry kitten, that’s great, so good.” He dragged his fingers along your pelvic area. “Yoongi, your turn?” Taehyung continued to brush your skin.

Yoongi stood from his seat on the floor in speciation. He brought his finger between your legs using his other hand to push your legs apart. “Ever felt something like this?” He ran his fingers up and down your middle, pausing along the top giving you an oddly familiar feeling that you loved. “Mm.” You moved a bit closer to the pleasure. “Yoongi stop, answer him y/n.” Nodding you yearned for yoongi’s fingers. “Don’t lie...show us.”

Rolling over you pulled a pillow from behind you positioning it between your legs as you lay on your side. “Go on.” Yoongi nudged you and you began to rub yourself, pushing the pillow firmer into your core whimpering as the pressure increased, “it feels so good!” “Naughty naughty y/n.” You continued to pleasure yourself, “mm I know, please don’t tell anybody.” Taehyung took the pillow rubbing his finger along the wet spot you left behind. “You ever cum sweetheart?” You squeeze your legs together hoping for pleasureful friction. “What’s that?”

“You’ve been rubbing yourself raw with no release?” He had a glint of pitty in his tone. “ I-I guess.” Yoongi had began his adventurous handy work once again and you couldn’t get enough. He sat beside you, looking into your eyes intently. “How’s it feel?” “Good, please don’t stop!” Taehyung pulled his partners hand away, “don’t give her too much Hyung.”

You pout squirming, itching with pent up sexual frustrations. “You both play like she’s a doll, she’s a woman, you know what she wants even if she doesn’t.” Jin came from his spot leaned against the corner, he came close stalking over your figure, “take these off.” He pulled your panties roughly you could hear the weak fabric give way as he stripped you.

“Careful.” You felt self conscious as they eyed your nude private area, Jin took over where Yoongi was removed, the direct contact could make you scream in joy, “close your eyes.” Jin ordered, and who are you to say no to the pleasure. A strange warmth took over your core making your hips jump uncontrollably “mhhm please.” “Hold her down Hoseok.” Even that simple second of neglect made you upset. Your hips were restrained and Jin continued his work, “sorry.” You opened your eyes to meet Taehyung’s gaze and a smile was plastered on his features, looking down at Jin who  was kissing your privates, so strange but so amazing.

“Oh please!” You couldn’t control your moans, closing your eyes, “too good princess?” “Mm too good.” Jin removed his lips from you “you're a savage Kim.” Jungkook comments eyes glued to your core, as if he couldn’t resist the view. “Some hair shows she is healthy n’ pure , but you wouldn’t know anything about that, you like your women whorish” He comments lewdly wiping his plump lips. They stood in speculation as you pressed your thighs together desperately. “Oh please! Jin please more!” You earned a hand over your mouth. In attempts to shut your pathetic whines. “Please don’t hurt her!” Your mother beat the door with concern. “Does she sound hurt, don’t make us do something we don’t want to, now go away!” Taehyung growled, before leaving the bed, he undid his pants the respect in you made you look away. “Ever see this before?” He climbed over you, too cowardly to peak, you kept looking into his dark irises. “Your private?” He laughed in your face, “my cock?” He sat on your legs trapping you. He pulled your dress over your head, fully undressing you with ease.

Taken over my temptation, Jimin groped your clothed chest “don’t touch her.” His command was final, Taehyung had been taken by the monster of greed and lust. “Go on look y/n.” Your eyes slowly traveled down, he had himself in his clutches stroking squeezing at the tip collecting the strange ooze on the tips of his fingers. Reaching he glossed your lips with his juices, “never wear makeup, this is all you need pretty girl.” The smell was strong and musky, curious you took a taste, sweaty and sweet. “Greedy girl...you know where this belongs?” He tapped you with his erect cock.

“I don’t think so.” He nodded, reaching below himself without hesitation he penetrated you with his index. “Ouch Tae!” His eyes stretched in surprise, “that hurts? Oh what fun you’ll be.” His finger stretched you slightly as he explored, thrusting softly, curly at the knuckle. Pulling his finger back, and a thick stripe of cloudy grool connects the two of you. “Shit, would you look at that.” They came looking as you lay victim Yoongi had pulled himself from his pants stroking himself shamelessly. Hoseok unbuttoned his top, his fist buried in his pants, while Jimin palmed himself giving you a warm smile, while Jungkook sat timid away from the action and Jin’s face set stoney, seemingly uninterested. Namjoon being the false comfort he was, he stood close, his bulge in your face as he stroked your hair.

Out of breath, the best you could muster being, “I’m sorry if it’s gross.” Lustfully he used your nectar to stroke himself sensually making violent eye contact in the act.

“Stop apologizing, this is the best cunt I’ve ever seen.” Using his foreign vulgar vocabulary he moved back, using his hands to get a better view of your most personal area. “Oh honey, you’ve never had anything in this sweet pussy of yours huh?” You shook your head, “no never.” You whisper. “Let’s change that yeah? Will you be a big girl?” You nodded body full of utter curiosity, what was coming for you the last thing you could have fathomed.

“Mm, you’re the sweetest thing on Earth y/n” he gazed into you, looking your shivering body up and down as if you two were completely alone. He lowered himself distracting you with another one sided kiss, this time though you attempted to participate.

Little did you know his hidden agenda, he gripped his girthy member, massaging it along your slickening core in search of your small entrance. “Ah Ah Taehyungie!” You squealed against his lips. He’d barely pushed into you and the pain was prominent “shh shh wouldn’t want to make momma upset.” He paused and looked down at your slightly connecting bodies. “Hmm Let’s play another game.” He reached for the pillow you were pleasuring yourself on, he placed it over your face constricting your air in the process, muffling your pathetic whimpers and mewls.

In one violent action...“TEAHYUNG!” Your throat felt as if it would collapse,He forced himself into your constructing entrance ripping your walls you felt yourself struggle to become accustomed his size. His pace inhuman. You gasped for air,the pillow blocking any gasp you could get. “I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe Tae!” He kept his murderous stroke speed pulling the pillow from your face you heaved, sobbing, screaming begging for freedom. “Shut the fuck up!” It could’ve been the tears, or haze of pain, but this wasn’t your friend anymore.

Taehyung’s face as contorted in sick pleasure inconsiderate of your wellbeing he gripped your hips fucking into you aggression never seen before. “T-Tae please we’re friends don’t hurt me!” You cried out for his mercy. “Hold her fucking mouth Min.” He obliged, his hand slick from his own juices. He stood over you griping and jerking his member, keeping his eyes on yours. “Close your damn eyes, your crying is going to make me soft.” That only made you cry more, the treatment you were getting from Taehyung caused an ache you couldn’t help but sob from. “It i-it fucking hurts!” You let the filth spill from your mouth as you groaned with every thrust, your statement muffed by Yoongi’s palm.

“Close. Them. Now.” Stubbornly you kept staring, you won’t obey them, friends aren’t supposed to to hurt you, ever. “Ahh fuck.” Yoongi began to vandalize your face, removing his hand from your mouth pulling your hair to aim for your mouth. “Ah shit shit.” He continued to stroke grumbling heinous names under his breath. “My eyes please help me momma,it hurts momma!” He’d spurted right in your eye and he knew it. “I told you to close them idiotic bitch, you obey us you’ll be alright.” He took your discarded panties wiping your eye.

You didn’t listen to his angered grumblings...She didn’t respond, she left you to suffer, you were being naughty and she could hear and she left you to suffer. The pain in your eye became dull as you became numb to Taehyung’s assault. “She left you, that bitch left you in here to get fucked, and you’re going to take everything we give thanks to mommy dearest...no one is going to rescue you.” Yoongi growled I’m your ear, you turned from him. His seed still rests on your pained features.

Taehyung pushed his thumbs roughly into your abdomen making you cry out. “Your cunt is still so tight, mm fuck stop clenching like that- I’m gonna fucking- oh shit.” He sent his seed deep into you, the sensation was sickening you began to dry heave having nothing in you to throw up. “Throwing up sweetheart?” You ignored his false concern, he gripped your hair. “Think twice before you do, you’ll be cleaning it with that pretty mouth every drop.”

Your face drenched in tears, snot and slobber, and the seed of another, you lay in defeat. He pulled his member for your stinging and burning feeling settled between your legs. “Nice job, you’ve beat her bloody.” Jin grumbled coming near, your entrance oozed a mixture of his cum and blood from your lost innocents. His finger brushed against your puffy injured vulva, “please no no nooo!” You instinctively backed away from the contact.

“My turn princess.” Your eyes closed, you could tell it was Jimin planning his attack. “Please Jimin, you’re still my friend right?” You Sobbed to weakly to even look into his eyes, Jimin had to put an end to it or it wouldn’t end at all. “I treat all my girlfriends this way, hm don’t worry baby it won’t hurt-” you heard him wander closer, “just open up.” You refused, turning your head away from his voice, “Ah y/n don’t be that way.” He slightly scolded pulling you back his way by your jaw, “open your mouth y/n.” You opened your eyes, glaring at him, your right eye blurring and irritated. He rubbed his member along your pursed lips. “No?” He leaned over, his member in his over hand. “Open. The. Fuck! Up.” He slapped your pussy harshly with every word, already sore you cried out, begging for mercy.

He took the opportunity, plunging his cock down your throat, gagging you choked and cried. “Yah stupid Bitch watch your teeth!” He gripped the back of your head, another agonizing ordeal. Your throat was sore from the screaming and now your throat was being rubbed roughly by Jimin’s third leg. “I’m gonna c-cum, and you’re gonna swallow all of it and you’re gonna keep it down.”

You couldn’t protest, you got used just as before you closed your eyes and prayed for it to be over as quick as it started. Hoseok neared you like a predator, “careful she’s sore.” You opened your eyes quickly, he had his pants completely off, his member erect his shirt open his sculpted body on display. You sobbed around jimins member as he took his time fucking himself into you. “I’m not putting my prick I that mess.” He referred to your battered entrance, he placed his clock between your folds, rubbing himself their. Even the subtle pressure gave you discomfort, “hey! Watch those fucking teeth slut!” Jimin beat the back of your head, picking up his pace.

“She sounds so fucking nasty.” Namjoon pulled himself out of his trousers “choking and gagging, fucking whore I wouldn’t fuck you even if your mom offered all the money she owed.” Namjoon insulted, pulling closer, “what an asshole.” Jimin grunted in retaliation. “This is all you’ll get from me.” Namjoon leaned over you, assaulting you relieving himself on your quaking body. “You sick bastard!” They found Namjoon’s action sickly humorous. He moved to your face, you tried to stop breathing in fear of inhaling it. Warmly it dribbled over you. “I bet you fucking enjoyed it.”

Jimin pushed your damp head down on him as he exploded in your mouth, that scene being all he needed to find his high. His seed was salty and less sweet; he tasted repulsive. You gagged as he removed himself, you leaned over the bed in utter pain heaving. “AHT HEY!” Taehyung cupped your mouth, “swallow be a good girl.” He rolled you back, you tried but your body refused, you gagged against his musty palm. Jimin pinched your nose “take it, take it, take it!” Air became scarce, you gulped ingesting his warm seed, the taste blanketed your throat.

They let you breathe, Hoseok found his release on your tummy, scooping it with his agile fingers he force fed you. “Please...n-no...more.” “Shut up, your breath reeks.” Your stomach flipped, you were going to be sick soon. “Roll her over.” Jin instructed, and of course they followed you let them do as they please, not like you could stop them. “Your pussy is beautiful, but I love a nice ass.” He unbuckled his belt, letting his pants fall. Spitting vulgarly, stroking himself. “Bite the pillow.” He pulled you up by your waist. Using his thumb he rimmed you.

Getting positioned he spit on your hole. The room was quiet. “Bite it hard.” He pushed himself mercilessly barely breaking through, “tight little bitch.” Your screeching earsplitting You’d become unconscious soon the pain was excruciating, you knew you were bleeding. “Please! I’ll do anything!Please not this, no more of this!” Finally he bottomed you out, “this is what love feels like, hmph remember that.” Jin growled fucking into you barely able to keep a pace.

Your vision blurred, slurring was your only form of speaking back, covered in piss and cum, tears and snot. Drooling all over yourself like an imbecile, bleeding. They’ve used you out, good for nothing you fell into the void of unconsciousness, sweet relief.

A dull jabbing welcomed you back into the real world, no way was this some sort of  twisted dream the disgusting smell registered back into your senses. The smell was you. “Fucking hell Jungkook finish already.” You’d been sick all over the mattress in your sleep, your mouth stale and stiff.

“I’m so sorry y/n I’m so sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!” Blinking you looked over your shoulder, tears streamed his rounded face. “Ugh so sorry.” He gagged looking at your abused figure covered in bodily grime. “P-please turn around so it can be over.” Pitying you he held his head down shamefully thrusting to unwanted orgasm. He too filled you warmly pulling out quickly, scurrying to the corner losing his breakfast. “H-hy-'' he retched again. “Let’s go please, let’s leave.” He begged holding his stomach, Jungkook is still your friend, right? You could see he didn’t want to hurt you...

They put their clothes back on lazily.

“Be a peach and tell your mother we’ll be back next month on the dot, hopefully you won’t have to cover her tab two visits in a row huh sweetheart?”

“I hate you, all of you.”

“Ah, but we love you, and we always will.”

(Not my photo)

(Please interact like•reblog•reply it helps sm!)

@minshookie

[writing-in-april]

April Fools

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Spencer needs to one up Reader just as he’s about to loose a prank war

A/N: I’m kicking things off for my 30 fics in 30 days for April with this fic inspired by April Fools day- lol this is a much better version compared to what I have experienced in the past with this holiday 😂 @90spumkin there’s a few specific lines in here that are totally inspired by your cowboy Spencer fic lol 😂 I’d like to hear all y’all’s thoughts so far or just drop me any type of anon here- ask me anything -my requests are also open!! Hope y’all enjoy reading ☺️

Warnings: 18+, Dom Spencer (not as harsh as in other fics of mine), Fingering, Edging, Public Sex, Sex with a hidden motive (there are some real feelings there 😉 plus reader acknowledges and knows the hidden motives)

Main Masterlist Word count: 2.4K

When you walked into the bullpen it was dead silent. If you dropped a pin you’d be able to hear it, even with the carpeted floors. You crept as quietly as you could, afraid that someone might jump out to scare you. It was not as if you had gotten in late today, you were actually cutting it rather close this morning.

Your fear of being submitted to a jump scare so early in the morning wasn’t as irrational. Today was the day that everything was going to come to an either a glorious defeat or a momentous victory. A two week long bet was tipping heavily in your favor at the final hours, you had to be careful to not let your hold over Spencer weaken in these last moments.

Today was April 1st- a day like any other to most people, but not to you and not to Spencer. It had all started when you both had begun trying to do little pranks on each other in the months leading up to the bet. If you asked anyone on the team they’d say it started when you replaced his normal standard deck of playing cards with a new set that had awkward pictures of Spencer you had accumulated over the years taped on them to represent each of the numbers and faces. Your personal favorite was the photos you had chosen for the Queens- one of Spencer looking rather regal, eyes cast downwards and with his hands crossed and a big lip pout while sitting at his desk obviously disproving of whatever Derek had said (who was also in the picture)

The team would’ve definitely said it had started there, but that was the first one that they had seen. The first one had actually been when Spencer had switched around the contacts in your phone while you weren’t looking while you had been hanging out with him. To be fair it had been in retaliation to you playfully teasing him about being a technophobe, all’s fair in love and war you had to admit.

And, whether you admitted to him or not, you did love him. This little bet that you set a few weeks ago had only strengthened your feelings. It involved setting a prank for each other, alternating every other day for two weeks until April Fools day, then the team would judge and figure out who one. You can definitely thank Morgan for that brilliant idea as he had spontaneously suggested it after your card prank on Spencer, though you bet he had been thinking about it for a while. Over the course of two weeks you had to delve into the mind of Spencer, really getting to know what would get under his skin, what would be the perfect prank for him.

“I hope you know what you got yourself into Spencer.” He had smirked back at me when you said that right after confirming your bet. You had delved into researching stuff, trying to figure out pranks that would be more personalized to Spencer rather than the ones everyone would see passed around. Eventually you landed on an idea for your last prank that was simple, yet the perfect way to get under Spencer’s skin. It was so easy you kicked yourself a little for not figuring it out before.

Apparently replacing the sugar Spencer specifically brought in for himself with salt was a step too far according to him. The glare that he had fixed on you after he had spit out his coffee onto his cardigan made you shiver, you knew you were going to be in for something big today.

Plus today was the aforementioned holiday that inspired the bet in the first place, you kind of wished you had gotten the chance to have the last laugh. You were still crossing your fingers and toes in hopes that it wouldn’t compare to your coffee prank.

Your eyes locked on the lone figure standing in the maze of desks, Spencer. It felt as if you were both ready at high noon for a duel to see who drew their gun fastest. Though, comparatively there was a distinct lack of cowboy hats and the sun was down to low for a proper duel. That didn’t stop your mind from wandering to thinking about him in a cowboy hat, he’d definitely look good. you’d have to get him one some day or maybe put a snake in a cowboy boot if another prank war was to ever crop up.

“Where is everybody?” You asked, though you knew that Spencer had probably sent them off elsewhere, you had done the same thing earlier when you needed to convince him that he had come in on his day off.

“I may have bribed them a bit to be elsewhere right now.” He spoke with a smirk that would have seemed foreign to you until you guys had started this. Now it was a staple for him whenever you saw him, going right along with his cardigan and tie to complete his look. There was no complaint from you, Spencer acting slightly cocky just before you were about to get pranked on oddly made you get hot and bothered easier than you’d like to admit.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you crossed your arms in front of you, probably a vain attempt to protect yourself from whatever was coming. Your voice came out a little shaky, “What for?”

“Just wanted to talk to you- privately…” He skated around your question, not really giving you any definitive answer. Though, you hadn’t really expected him to lay out his whole plan, that would just be counterproductive. There was a slight pause in conversation, you were about to break it with your own response when he added,“You know I’ve always found you desirable, Y/N…”

The simple teasing conversation that you had been having with him suddenly pivoted. The air in the room felt like it had been sucked out, leaving you gasping. Even if some part of this led to a prank, you knew Spencer wouldn’t play with your feelings like that. What was most likely happening is that he was using this confession to also pull a fast one on you. His deep brown eyes piercing into your own told you that he was telling the truth in that regard, plus if earlier in the bet was any indication, he wasn’t that good of a liar.

“This wasn’t what I thought you’d be talking to me in private about but- I’ve always found you desirable too...” You admitted with a gulp, pressing your weight into the edge of your desk almost sitting on it.

Your full weight pushed to sit fully on top of your desk, undoubtedly crinkling some important papers underneath when he stepped forward to close the large gap between the two of you. The tension was thick around you now with only two sentences spoken, both full of truth.

“Do you want me as much as I want you?” His lips were now so close to yours his breath was projected onto your lips.

“Yes.” You confirmed, with no hesitation. Honestly, you wouldn’t care if there was some sort of prank he was going to play on you soon, you knew that what he had said didn’t just apply to now. That was the part that mattered to you.

His lips surged forward to meet yours, letting all the tension that had been rising boil over. It was everything you had imagined and more, his lips just as soft and pillowy as they had been in your dreams.

When he pulled your skirt up roughly to expose your bottom half to him you came up off of the edge of the desk slightly, then being pushed back down once you were partially exposed before him. You squeaked into his mouth in shock of how fast this was escalating, but didn’t protest any further, wanting to see where he was going with this. You were so glad that he had gotten the team to leave the bullpen for a while, this would be a hard situation to explain. Being out in the open didn’t make you more nervous though, it excited you to know that someone could be around the corner with only the desk dividers hiding your exposed bottom half.

He didn’t even bother to push your panties down to your knees or ankles. He just pulled them aside to gain access to your now positively dripping hole. You hadn’t even thought to question how this tied into his prank, like it inevitably did, yet. You just wanted more of him, in any way you could get him.

His eyes were fixated on your dripping entrance, seemingly mesmerized by finally being able to see it. The awe in his eyes certainly did make you feel adored by him, but your desire made you feel impatient, “Spencer, do something or I’ll take care of it myself.”

A growl was all you were going to get in response to your desperate snarky comment. He then brought his hand up to suck on two of his fingers, his pointer and his middle. But, instead of then putting them to good use to help you reach a peak he stalled some more by bringing them up to your own mouth.

“I want you to suck too.” A little whine was all you could give in response before letting his fingers inside your mouth. You sucked diligently, making sure to get them wet enough for you.

Once he was finally satisfied with your efforts he removed them, a slight popping noise escaping. Bringing his hand down slowly was just another attempt to tease some more, but you knew that he’d reach there eventually. No matter how hard it was to be patient, you did so, though with a bit of squirming.

Your hips bucked up immediately in response to his fingers coming into content with your clit, Spencer’s other hand came down to press your hips back down again. He spent his sweet time playing with patterns, circling your clit a few times slowly before switching to a faster figure 8 pattern, seemingly just to get you more desperate.

“Spencer- again if you don’t do more I’ll take care of it myself!” You snapped harder with more venom this time, patience wearing dangerously thin. You thought you heard a small whisper of the word brat underneath his breath, but you decided to table it when he finally did oblige you.

You had to bite down on your lip hard when he stopped circling your entrance to plunge two of his fingers inside of you. The pressure on your lip was most certainly almost enough to break the skin while he began thrusting his fingers inside you in a steady rhythm, crooking them perfectly to make you see stars. You had to bite your lip so hard to combat the raging moans that wanted to escape from you due to the pressure he was putting on your gspot.

He brought his thumb up to circle your clit again once he saw that you were getting close, helping push you closer towards the edge. Your lungs were heaving in gasping breaths mixed with desperate moans as he continued to add stimulation to your most sensitive spots, hitting them perfectly with each crook of his fingers and circling of your clit.

Just as your orgasm was about to wash over you, all of his movements stopped abruptly. The euphoric stimulation you had been feeling was ripped away from you, his thumb on your clit halted, the curling of his fingers ceased, and his mouth that had been pressing kisses and hidden hickies to my collarbone had concluded its actions.

“April fools.” He then removed his fingers from me and promptly sauntered off to his own desk with no other words for you. Your legs were still shaking, more now from being edged to the point that you fully had to sit down onto your desk to try and regain your composure. Your jaw also was hanging slack in shock in contrast to how hard you had been biting your lips earlier while his fingers had been inside you.

A little glance from Spencer was thrown your way that was probably to gage your reaction,

you spotted even in your disheveled and distraught state. You had to admit, it was not what you were expecting and he had got you good. Your plan paled in comparison by far considering you were just going to have the entire office call him Stanley all day- and of course steal the coffee grounds to see if you could provoke an even bigger reaction out of him.

A deep sigh came from you, an non verbal admission of your glorious defeat. He had well and truly got you, it wasn’t as if you could exactly defend yourself and your pranks to the team during judging. Not that you really wanted to defend them, there was no reason to, he had well and truly beaten you. You could accept when you had been beaten, you’d accept defeat with grace. Though you definitely still feared the idea Spencer would come up with as a consolation prize for his win.

Reaching down with your hands to a stack of files on your desk you absentmindedly straightened them, then sitting down in your desk chair. You wriggled around a bit, feeling the dampness in your parties, already regretting sitting down. With another sigh you nodded towards Spencer, an acknowledgement of his momentous victory before getting up again to go clean yourself up in the bathroom to clean up- and maybe splash some cold water on your face. Though by the smirk on his face, there was no way this wasn’t going to happen again. And, maybe with him actually letting you finish or not, the thrill was sometimes in the chase of one. You’d also have to think of your own way of retaliation in the future of course, just because you accepted defeat just now doesn’t mean there wasn't a longer war to be won. Plus perhaps you will admit your deeper feelings for him that you could now see lying beneath his eyes as well, feelings much deeper than desire.

Safe to say you just told the team that you lost fair and square, not divulging why no matter how much Penelope pried. It was without a doubt, a glorious defeat.

—

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics

Dom Spencer: @rainsong01 @evlfknb

[myherowritings]

Borrowed Sweaters, Stolen Kisses

— In a game of Truth or Dare, you’re dared to sneak into your crush’s dorm and steal one article of clothing to wear the next day. It just so happens that the hoodie you snatched was Shinsou’s favorite sweater.

pairing: shinsou hitoshi x reader word count: 2,204 genre: fluff, aged up au (class 3a) warnings: 16+, suggestive content

a/n: this used to be a harry potter fic i wrote on my hp account but i rewrote it for shinsou bc it just seemed fitting fhgjdhsfg. shinsou is in class 1a in this fic or 3a since they’re aged up and at least 18 years old u.u i hope y’all enjoy!! xx 

“No way.” You shook your head, kicking your legs out in front of you as you ignored Hagakure’s poking and prodding.

It was a relatively relaxed Friday night, and you and your friends decided to spend it in your dorm with a bottle of whisky and a game of Truth or Dare. The truths ranged from anything to, “Fuck, marry, kill: Sero, Kirishima, Kaminari” to, “Who was the last person you sent a nude to?” And the dares weren’t any better. Ashido practically vomiting in the corner served as a great reminder of that.

You were just grateful the dares you received were rather mundane. 

That was, until now.

“Y/N, you have to do it!” said Hagakure.

“Can’t I just forfeit this round and take a shot?”

“Nope, that’s only allowed for truths,” she quipped. 

You glanced over at Jirou, a pleading look on your face, but you were met with a nonchalant shrug. 

“Rules are rules,” Jirou sang, taking a swig of whisky before passing you the handle.

You opened your mouth to protest, but Mina’s fierce glare caused your words to die in your throat.

“If I had to chug that hot sauce concoction you guys made and then eat the mystery sushi until I felt sick, you can go to Shinsou’s room and steal a hoodie or something-- Sounds like a cakewalk compared to my dare.”

As she leaned her back against the bed, hand over her stomach as beads of sweat trailing down her forehead, you figured Mina was right. You’ve been in his dorm plenty of times before, anyway-- You two were friends and, at times, you supposed you enjoyed his company. What was the worst that could happen?

“You’re right.”

“I know.” 

Rolling your eyes, you stood up and slipped some fuzzy socks on, ignoring the cheers coming from your tipsy roommates. When you reached the door, your friends watching fervently as you wandered off to your ill-fated trek, you paused at the handle. 

You looked back at them, heaving a sigh. “If his dorm turns out to be booby trapped and I get caught, just know I will haunt you from the grave after I die of embarrassment.” 

“We expect nothing less,” was Tsuyu’s smart reply. 

Soon enough, you found yourself climbing up the boys’ side of Heights Alliance, feeling like you were doing a reverse walk of shame. It was a quarter past three o’clock in the morning and the odds of any of them being awake were slim to none, but that didn’t stop the butterflies from fluttering in your stomach. 

You made your way to the front of Shinsou’s dorm room and cautiously placed your hand on the door handle. With a small grumble you fished the key card Hagakure stole from Hitoshi earlier (which made you wonder just how long your friends were planning this whole escapade out…) out of the pocket of your sweatpants. 

For the most part, it looked just like your dormitory. Only neater. His desk was fairly organized and, aside from balls of yarn and different sizes of knitting needles, was clear enough to work on. Scarves and hoodies were piled onto the back of the chair and foot of the bed--which meant your dare should be easy enough to complete--and a dim light was left twinkling.

Everything seemed cozy and lived in. Normal.

Except for the fact that Shinsou Hitoshi was not in his bed. 

“What on earth?” you murmured under your breath, finding it a bit strange the room was completely empty at this hour. But knowing him, you reckoned he was out training at any hour he could--something that worried you about him--or playing with a cat off campus grounds. It wasn’t unlikely. 

Still, with your feet planted at the foot of his dormitory, you wanted to get out of there before you were caught. Because you knew there was no way in hell for your drunken ass to smooth talk your way out of this mess if he were to find you.

Your hand hovered over the article of clothing nearest to you, which was a sweater draped over the back of a chair, and you took a deep breath, saying, “It’s just a dare. You can do it.” 

Before you lost all your nerve, you snatched the jumper with one hand and slipped out of the dorm. As you rushed down the stairs, you could’ve sworn you heard some shuffling coming from the empty room. But you didn’t care.

Part one of your dare was successfully completed.

Now for the hard part: Wearing it around the next day.

- - - - -

“How do I look?” 

You posed in front of your roommate, trying not to laugh at how the borrowed jumper engulfed your frame. Walking down the center of your dorm, you gave a little twirl.

“Sexy,” Mina teased from her spot on her bed. “Shinsou’s sweater looks nice on you.” 

Sticking your tongue out at her, you made a face. “I’m not sure what you mean. It’s pretty gross to me. I would never want to wear any of Shinsou’s clothes.”

“Then why did you put the hood over your head and bury your face in the collar?” 

Slowly, you peered up at her with your view obstructed by the fabric. You sniffled haughtily, trying to ignore the soothing aroma of lavender and smoked wood that filled your sense. 

Mina smirked, catching the small sigh of contentment that left your mouth as you basked in the scent of Shinsou’s hoodie. “Gross, huh?” 

“Mention this to no one,” you mumbled with a nonthreatening glare, pulling the hood off your head and folding your fabric-covered hands over your chest.

Laughing, she tossed you your bookbag from across as she waited by the door, the rest of your friends back in their own rooms to get ready for class. “Come on, lovebug. You can see him during math in a few minutes.”

“I won’t be looking forward to it.”

You grumbled protests as the both of you made your way down the stairs of Heights Alliance and toward the main campus of U.A. High, but Ashido paid them no mind. Soon enough, you reached the room and spotted Jirou and Hagakure in their usual seats. 

“Hey,” you quickly whispered, sliding into the seat next to Tooru before Ectoplasm sauntered over to the front of the class.

“Nice jumper,” she said simply, voice going an octave higher in amusement. “I knew you’d go through with it.” 

Reminded of your rather bold choice of clothing (that was horribly out of dress code), you subconsciously tugged at the sleeves. You sent a quick plead to the gods above that you didn’t look as foolish as you thought you did. 

While Ectoplasm introduced antiderivatives and indefinite integrals to the class, Hagakure nudged you on the side, sliding you a ripped piece of her parchment paper.

You looked at her curiously as Mina peered over your shoulder to catch sight of the writing.

DO NOT LOOK NOW!!! But I’m 100% certain Shinsou has been staring at you since the start of math class.

Of course, the first thing both you and Ashido did after reading the note was turn your heads at the same time towards the back of the class where Hitoshi and his friends were sitting. And, as your luck would have had it, you made directly eye contact with an amused-looking Shinsou.

Both you and Mina turned around to face the front so fast you were sure at least one of you received whiplash. 

Wide-eyed and flushed, you exchanged glances with her, both of you trying to hold in your laughter.

“I told you not to look,” Hagakure whispered, a small giggle escaping from her lips, sending you three into fits of laughter you tried to muffle with your hands. 

Behind you, someone cleared their throat, causing the three of you to straighten up in an instant. 

“Something amusing you, ladies?” 

“No, sir,” you quipped.

“Sorry, Ectoplasm-sensei,” remarked Tooru.

“We’ll shut up now,” promised Mina.

With a stern look on his face but a slight tilt of his smile, Ectoplasm nodded and returned to his lesson. “I trust you three will be experts of the integral calculus by the next lesson and I won’t have to catch you making doe eyes at a certain someone?”

Though he asked all three of you the question, his gaze was pointed at you and the class knew it. Your cheeks heated up as slouched into your chair. Perhaps if you tried hard enough, you could turn into the seat. 

“Yes, sir,” you mumbled, ignoring the stifled laughter from Ashido and an apologetic, but amused, look from Hagakure. 

And as he continued the lesson, you could’ve sworn you felt a certain pair of eyes on the back of your head until the end of it.

When class finally concluded and Ectoplasm dismissed the lot of you, you rushed out of the classroom as fast as you could.

But not fast enough.

“Nice sweater, Y/N,” you heard a deep voice call, stopping you in your footsteps. “Looks familiar.”

You swallowed, slowly turning around to face Shinsou--lazy smirk and all. There was nothing you wanted to do more than dash back to your dormitory and hide, but instead you straightened your spine and braved a look of nonchalance.

“Does it now?”

“Yeah,” he said with an amused look in his eyes. “I’d have to say it does.”

Peering up through your lashed, you looked at him with faux innocence. “I can’t say I know why.”

Slowly, he walked closer towards you as you moved back against the wall. He took the excess fabric of your sleeve into his hands, stroking them between his fingers.

“You know-- It even feels familiar.” He smiled thoughtfully. “Just like my sweater I happened to lose last night.”

By now, the halls had begun to clear up, the traitors you called friends having left you with a thumbs up right as Shinsou approached you. 

You coughed as you repeated, “I wonder why.”

He was so close you could catch a whiff of his lavender and woodsy scent.

“If you wanted my clothes on you, Y/N, you could’ve just asked.”

You pointedly eyed the way he was toying with the hem of your--or rather, his--sweater, lifting it slightly. “Well, if you wanted my clothes off this badly, you could’ve just asked.” 

Shinsou raised his eyebrows in surprise at your suggestion, hand frozen on the fabric. The intensity of his gaze melted your steely disposition, embarrassment creeping up to your neck.

“I’m only kidding,” you murmured, refusing to be the one to break eye contact.

“That’s a shame, then.”

You blinked. “What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.” 

Biting the inside of your lip, you toyed with the bottom of your sweater.

“That’s my favorite jumper, you know?” mused Shinsou, looking fondly at the U.A. hoodie. “Aizawa got it for me when I entered the hero course.” 

A horrified look crossed your face. You stole his favorite sweater that Eraserhead gifted him himself? Good going. 

“Oh, shit,” you swore, reaching for the hem of the hoodie. “I’m sorry, Shinsou! I didn’t know.”

Chuckling, Shinsou placed his hand on top yours to stop you from removing it. “No-- You can keep it on.” You paused. “I’d say I quite like how it looks on you.”

Your heart skipped a beat when his hand that was still on your ran down the length of your fingers. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you interlaced them with his own, causing him to send a shocked but pleased look your way. You smiled.

He ran the tip of his tongue along his lower lip, gently drawing you closer to him. “If I were to kiss you right now, would you be upset?”

You shook your head, leaning into his touch. “Upset is the last thing I’d be.”

“Well, then I suppose--”

“What are the two of you doing?” you heard Aizawa exclaim as he rounded the corner, catching sight of the two of you against the hallway. He pulled Shinsou away from you by the collar, your cheeks flooding with embarrassment. 

Shinsou, however, looked unperturbed.

“Sorry, Aizawa-sensei,” he said sincerely, “but what I was about to do just then-- I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.”

He chuckled at the shocked look on your face, giving you a wink as Aizawa released his shirt. Shinsou made his way back over to you across the hall.

“How cute you looked in my sweater was only the catalyst,” said Shinsou before placing both hands on either side of your hips, pulling you towards him in a brief but deep kiss.

“Shinsou! Y/L/N!”

“Sorry, sir.” This time, Shinsou didn’t sound so sincere as he ignored the appalled look on Aizawa’s face. “I just couldn’t wait until we got to the dorms to do that. Don’t worry though, Y/N-- I swear there will be far better kisses that’ll take place there as well.”

And though the two of you may have been sentenced to detention and cleaning duty for the next three weekends, you would have to say the kiss was definitely worth it.

[something-fanfiction-ie]

The Years

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: *SMUT* So you embarrass yourself in front of Derek and Spencer, the details of the case are mentioned and are a little intense, and smut. Like, rough, Spencer smut because there is nothing you can say that could convince me that Spencer Reid is a bottom. And swearing.

A/N: AH THE ENDING PROBABLY SUCKS BUT I TRIED REALLY HARD I PROMISE. Also, this is ridiculously long and not all of it is smut. For a hot second this WAS an OC story but I thought you guys would enjoy a self-insert more so I changed it. LOTS AND LOTS OF THANKS TO MY FAV FIC WRITER AND NEW TUMBLR FRIENDS, @reidmorefanfics and @pomsephone Y’all are the best. Also, remember to shower me in reblogs, comments, asks, messages, likes, and anything else you can think of to boost my ego. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND THANK YOU GUYS FOR READING!!!

___

“Actually, that reminds me of a joke that I know.” At the front of the crowded lecture hall, a young Dr. Spencer Reid looks over at his partner eagerly, a smile already splitting his lips apart. Derek Morgan, however, looks over at his partner with a mixture of fear and secondhand embarrassment.

“Reid, I don’t think-” Morgan tries to save him, he really does, but Reid tucks his hair behind his ears and ignores him by starting the joke.

“Einstein, Heisenberg, Newton, and Pascal are playing hide and seek. Einstein covers his eyes and begins counting. While Heisenberg and Pascal run off and hide, Newton takes out some chalk and marks a square on the ground with a side length of exactly 1 meter, then sits down inside the square. When Einstein is finished counting and sees Newton sitting on the ground, he yells, "Ha, I've found you, Newton!". Newton however replies, "No you haven't! You've found Pascal!’”

A short, surprised laugh joins Spencer’s small chuckles, dragging his eyes to the location the sound had come from. Derek looks too, completely taken aback that anyone other than Reid had actually understood the joke. Yet, lo and behold, a young girl sitting in the front row with her cheeks stoplight red and her hand nervously covering her mouth.

Proudly, Spencer nods for Morgan to end the talk, his chest a little puffed out and a smug smile twitching at his lips. They wrap things up quickly, eager to grab some food after leaving campus and before heading back to the BAU.

When Spencer turns to gather his things, grabbing his bag, he notices the soft shuffle of feet against the hardwood flooring of the stage. A pair of black converse peek into his peripheral vision, attached to a pair of long legs that make Spencer blush for noticing at all. Lifting his eyes further, he meets the shy gaze of the only person who had laughed at his joke. It came as no surprise when he sees that your tee shirt had a picture of a cat with the words ‘Wanted: Dead and Alive’ in block lettering.

“Dr. Reid,” Your left hand comes up to push a stray lock of hair away from your face, a single gold band wrapped around your left index finger, “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I just, uhm, I had a couple questions?”

Looping the strap of his bag over his head and letting the familiar weight of it settle against his hip before he responds, Spencer ignores the way Derek looks at him by pretending he isn’t there at all.

“Of course,” Spencer meets your eyes, which are a beautiful shade of (y/e/c). “I like the shirt by the way. I’m not usually much of a t-shirt person, but I might wear one like that.” You laugh, shifting on your feet and twisting the ring on your finger.

“Thank you, I got it as a Christmas present. Along with ten billion other nerdy t-shirts. But uhm, I was curious how old you were when you joined the FBI?” Morgan holds his tongue, pretending to shuffle papers around and not pay attention to the poor girl’s crush.

“I was twenty-two. I finished two of my doctorates the year prior.”

“I thought you had to be twenty-three? I’ve always wanted to join the FBI as soon as I could but I thought I had a little more time. That’s what I read anyways. I could be wrong, you would know more than I do.” You looked down at your shoes, kicking the toe of one converse into the wood, your hair falling forward over your shoulders.

“No, you’re right. I had an age waiver. You’re eighteen? Nineteen? You’ve still got some time to prepare.”

“I’m seventeen, actually.” Your lips skewed to the side, the confession barely above a whisper as you continued to stare at your feet. Spencer blanched, unable to contain his surprise. He was quick to school his features, though, when you finally looked back at him.

“You’re seventeen and you understood his joke?” Morgan couldn’t help but cut in now, stepping away from the table he’d been pushing papers around on and toward the two younger people left in the room.

“A pascal is a unit of measurement equal to one Newton per square meter. By sitting in a square meter, Newton was being one newton per square meter. Which is, again, equal to a pascal. So he was Pascal.” A smile had worked it’s way past the nerves that jumped around your body. You weren’t very used to talking to young, attractive, intelligent doctors who worked for the FBI.

“Although, even if I hadn’t understood the science behind the joke I might have still laughed. You see, there is this thing called the Halo Effect, which is basically a cognitive bias you might develop based on your initial impression of someone that can change how you feel about their specific traits. Essentially, one example would be that someone you find attractive may seem funnier or more intelligent simply because you find them attractive.”

It takes all of a second for your face to turn beat red as you realizes your nervous ramblings have made you reveal the silly crush you had started to develop on the young doctor. Derek’s lips purse in amusement when he sees the similar shade of red that has colored his partner’s cheeks.

“Not that I’m saying I find you attractive,” Your heart stops cold in your chest and you are quick to retract the statement. “Not to say you’re ugly either, because that’s not what I’m trying to say at all. Just that my first impression of you as a nice and attr- I mean, intelligent man could have very well made my amusement slightly biased because I was more willing to like you based solely on my first impression of you. Which was that you are very nice and, and intelligent.”

It takes all the willpower in the world for you not to throw yourself down the stairwell later that day, the embarrassment having barely faded even hours later. The two men had been quick to assure you they knew you weren’t saying you had a crush on Dr. Reid, but they were obviously just trying to protect your feelings. They wouldn’t be FBI Profilers if they couldn’t tell you had a crush on him. The conversation was pretty much over after that, you being suddenly desperate to make an escape and Dr. Reid just as eager to leave the campus grounds.

The whole team teased him about his teenage fan for months after it happened, Derek had been quick to let everyone know when they came back. Reid had tried to hide from them by scrunching down into his seat and covering his face with a book, but it hadn’t helped him at all.

Eventually though, both you and Spencer were able to move on from the embarrassing moment, though neither of you forgot it. Those moments where you’re all alone and the most embarrassing moments of your life come to creep up and embarrass you all over again? The memory always came back during those moments.

The team, however, seemed to forget about it, Gideon and Elle leaving and Rossi and Prentiss replacing them as the years faded the memory for them.

It wasn’t until JJ took her new position at the Pentagon and Ashley left after her brief consultation on the case in New Mexico that the memory came back to truly haunt you both.

The whole team had heard whispers of a ‘probationary agent’ that would be stepping in to assist wherever needed. Hotch was good at keeping quiet and avoiding questions on the matter, somehow keeping Penelope just as much out of the loop as the rest of the team.

No one was even sure when the new agent was supposed to be coming until the glass doors to the BAU opened and in stepped a young woman with (y/h/c) hair and (y/e/c) eyes. Derek squinted his eyes, your face tickling the back of his memory in a way that annoyed him. Spencer tensed, his eidetic memory quick to remind him of the seventeen year old girl that had basically confessed she thought he was cute, and then called him ‘not ugly’ to try and cover her tracks.

“Agent (Y/L/N), nice to finally meet you.” Hotch said, holding the door open as you nodded your thanks and slipped inside his office with a box in your arms.

“That must be the probationary agent.” Prentiss directed the comment at Reid, oblivious to the resurfaced embarrassment that boiled his cheeks to that same shade of red he’d been in that lecture hall seven years ago. He kept his book up in front of his face while he tried to cool his cheeks, looking over the top of the binding and into Hotch’s window.

You’re sitting ram-rod straight in the seat in front of Hotch’s desk that is closest to the door, your box of things clutched tightly in your white-knuckled hands. Your hair is still the same length, swaying at your shoulders. You’ve switched the Schrödinger’s cat shirt for a deep velvet red dress shirt with the sleeves rolled at your elbows.

But even with the obvious nerves displayed in your current body language, it’s easy to see you aren’t the same stuttering seventeen year old Reid remembers. You holds steady eye contact with Hotch, nodding and fluidly responding in such a way that the usually stoic unit chief actually breaks into a grin that dimples his cheeks. When he stretches over his desk for a handshake, your left hand comes up and grips Hotch’s firmly.

“I’m glad it’s a girl, it was starting to feel a little too testosteronie around here with JJ gone.” Garcia had made her way into the bullpen, a cup of tea balanced in her bejeweled fingers as she, and the rest of the team, size up the girl heading for Hotch’s door.

“I don’t think ‘testosteronie’ is a word, baby girl.” Derek teases, trying to ignore the nagging feelings that he knows this girl from somewhere. Maybe they’d met on a case? But no, that doesn’t feel right.

“It is now, Derek. Don’t argue with me or I’ll have to punish you.” She brings the lip of her cup up, sipping at the lukewarm tea still inside and patting Morgan’s cheek with her free hand. Hotch’s door finally opens again and you step out after Aaron.

A hush falls over the room, all eyes trained to the newest and now youngest member of the team.

“We’ll do introductions on the plane, for now I need everyone in the conference room for a case.” Hotch is quick to make eye contact with everyone, his gaze stern and demanding.

Spencer is the last one into the room, practically dragging his feet to one of the chairs around the circle table. Thankfully, you were sitting across the table. Somehow you haven’t seemed to notice him.

“Yesterday Dawes County police found the body of Julia Hastings along a hiking trail in Kladon. This is the second body they have found in the area in two weeks, the first belonging to Heather Greenaway. Both victims are in their early to mid twenties. Hands and feet bound, buried face down. Each victim was struck once in the back of the head, making cause of death blunt force trauma.”

From your spot at the table, you glance up with narrowed eyes as you open the file you’d been given at the beginning of the meeting.

“Where did they disappear from?” Reid asks, a connection forming in his brain as each picture and detail flies up from Garcia’s tablet and onto the projected pictures before them.

“Night clubs around the area, they were working on the night they each went missing. Both girls were bartenders, had been working at their new jobs a week before they were kidnapped.”

“Justin Millers had the same M.O., kidnapping new female bartenders fitting this exact victimology and holding them hostage for a course of five days, beating and raping them before eventually hitting them on the back of the head with a tire iron.” You don’t look up from the file as you speak, flipping through the pictures and quickly noticing the small odd similarities in the victims between this case and Millers’ case.

“Millers has been locked away for a year and a half.” Derek pointed out, using the opportunity to stare at the face of the girl he was sure he knew but still couldn’t place. When you look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed in a way that reminds him of Reid and your head tilted just a little to the side, he can feel his brain grab onto the memory just before it slips back through his fingers.

“I’d guess a copycat. Something seems different, I just can’t put my finger on it.” Your gaze slides over the table, looking at faces to get a gauge of their opinions on you. When you make eye contact with Reid, your eyes widen just a little before you duck your head. You should have known he was still here at the BAU, you’d only hoped he’d went to another unit out of desperation for this job.

“We’ll look into that theory, for now I just want a profile as if this unsub is working from his own killing preferences. We’ll discuss more on the way there. Wheels up in thirty.” Hotch stands, flipping the cover over the top of his iPad before making his way out of the room. Go bags are grabbed, certain persons avoid bumping into other certain persons, and then the eight hour plane ride to Kladon, Nebraska begins.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Emily tests the name on her lips, having chosen to move by the younger girl after the fourty five minute theory discussion that started the plane ride.

“You can call me (Y/N/N), that’s what my best friend calls me.” You had popped the first two buttons open of your dress shirt and slipped your shoes off to tuck your feet underneath you. Tucked between your thigh and the arm of the seat is a book with a Greek title, in your hands is the open case file.

“Just your best friend?” Rossi asks from across the way, just as curious about the new girl as the rest of them, but a little better at hiding it.

“She’s really my only friend.” You shrug, but not in such a way that you seem bothered by the fact. You reach up to push a strand of hair behind your ear. Reid notices the gold ring that still circles your left index finger, light coming from the window glinting off the metal when you move. It’s the only jewelry you wears.

“A bit of a loner?” Derek joins the conversation, moving up the aisle of the jet with a cup of something hot cradled in his hands. He takes the seat directly in front of you, blowing at the liquid in his cup.

“I was more focused on getting through school than making friends. Emma just happened to be the only person who wouldn’t let me shake her.” There’s a smile on your lips as you talk about your best friend, your eyes soft.

“What did you go to college for?” Derek is fishing, looking for something to tell him where he knows you from. It amuses Reid, who has sequestered himself into a corner a little further away from you than everyone else.

“I have a masters in philosophy, with a focus in Ancient Greek philosophy. I have a bachelor’s in Greek, which is the only other living language I can speak and read outside of English, and I have two doctorates; one in Classic Studies and one in Criminology.” Rossi whistles, shaking his head and leaning back into his seat to express what everyone else is feeling.

“You young people just keep getting smarter and smarter. You know how many doctorates I had at your age? None. You know how many I have now?” You look at him with genuine curiosity, drinking in all the information you can about the people around you like it was a class you were taking to survive.

“None.” The laugh that bubbles from your lips is infectious and carefree, it pulls Reid’s attention away from his book and it drags Hotch from the constant state of worry that he mentally paces in. Emily, Derek, and Rossi all exchange looks before their own laughter fills the air. It’s nice.

The feeling reminds you of that scene in Mary Poppins where Dick Van Dyke and Ed Wynn laugh themselves into the ceiling. So light and carefree that it could lift them into the sky.

“Why all the attention on the Greek?” Prentiss manages when the laughter subsides, reaching down for the book the young doctor has tucked away. Η φόνισσα, it reads with a black and white picture of arms twisted to the side of the bookcover. You make no move to grab for it, letting the other woman flip through the pages.

“My father was a Greek Philosophy professor before he died, I suppose it’s my way of trying to stay close to him.” Prentiss looks up from the pages, a look of sympathy in her eyes.

“And your mother?” The change in your entire demeanor is like cold water on the conversation, freezing the group in their spots. You reach for the book, tucking it back into the space between your thigh and the seat.

“I don’t know.” It’s the only blatant lie you’ve told since they started talking to you, averting your eyes and shifting in your seat. No one presses the topic, giving the new girl the space you need.

You take the case file with you when you go to make a cup of coffee in the small kitchenette situated in the back of the plane. Reid is already back there, pouring a steady stream of sugar into the otherwise black liquid.

“Dr. Reid.” You nod your head in greeting, avoiding his eyes by setting your folder on the counter and pretending to read it. You’ve been going over every detail of the case for so long that you’ve memorized everything there is to know. There are notes and theories scribbled into the margins and little sticky notes with questions scattered around the papers.

“It helps to step away for a little bit, that way when we land you come back to it with fresh eyes.” The utensils drawer clicks shut as Reid grabs a spoon to stir his coffee, risking the chance to finally look at you.

You’re twisting the ring on your finger and chewing the inside of your cheek. Without your shoes on, the top of your head comes to his shoulders.

When you look up at him, (y/e/c) eyes thoughtful and just as curious as the day they met, Reid can’t fight the urge that draws his gaze to your lips. The skin there is so very soft looking, surprising him when the thought of kissing them hits him like a train.

He clears his throat, focusing all of his attention on the coffee cup in front of him. The sugar is completely stirred in at this point, but he kind of wants to stay in the hopes that you’ll strike up a conversation.

“But everyone is different so you don’t have to listen to me, just do whatever helps you.” His shoulders lift in a shrug and he’s glad that nobody is there to see him interact with this girl. They would know how he felt before he could even come to terms with it himself.

As quickly as you are there, you leave. Completely flustered and unsure how to go about navigating a relationship that’s foundation was an unintentional love confession. Maybe, you thought as you leaned into your seat and closed your eyes, if I just ignore him then everything will be fine.

By the time the jet touched down in Nebraska, you had fallen into a dead sleep with your book sitting open in your lap. Emily was the one to reach out and gently shake your shoulder, the smile on her face gentle and motherly. Still blinking away sleep, you quickly scrambled to grab your bag and book before rushing for the exit.

Unfortunately for you, the shoe laces on one of your shoes hadn’t been completely tied. Add that to the speed in which you were trying to separate yourself from Reid, and you managed to trip over your feet and right into the person you were trying to avoid.

Your bag hit the ground, the book following suit as a warm hand grabbed you by your upper arm and pulled. When you collided with someone’s chest, you didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Reid smelled like old books, laundry detergent, and cinnamon.

“Your shoe is untied.” He said, his voice rumbling in his chest. You didn’t look up, afraid the heat in your cheeks would give you away. You looked down instead, noticing the way your feet were inside the breadth of his stance. One shoe’s laces laid precariously around your foot as if mocking you. Quickly, you took a step away and almost tripped again on your bag. You caught yourself on one of the seats, holding a hand out to keep Reid from grabbing you again.

“Thank you, I’m okay. Really.” You didn’t meet his eyes, every lewd thought you’d had during that stupid lecture about his lips and hands and hair came rushing back at you with every glance. You wouldn’t be surprised if he could see each fantasy written on your face like a lusty, ten-cent romance novel.

Morgan, having stopped to watch the two doctors in your clearly flustered states, suddenly felt it click in his brain. Sure, you were older and not as squirrelly as he remembered, but the way you were looking at his partner was nearly the exact same as you had seven years ago.

Feeling smug for finally figuring it out, he walked up to Spencer with his bag thrown over his shoulder, stopping beside him as they both watched you rush for the exit.

“Can you imagine someone having a crush on you for seven years? Oh, wait.” Bending down to grab his bag, Spencer shook his head in such a way that a few loose curls tangled on his eyelashes. A simple sweep of his hand across his face helped to push it away.

“It took you long enough to figure it out.” Spencer took the lead, dreading the car ride with Derek to the medical examiners. He had been hoping his older partner wouldn’t remember who you were, at least, until the case was solved.

“Oh ho ho, don’t think you can avoid this conversation with insults, pretty boy.” Morgan was hot on his tail, and that was exactly where he stayed for the next three days that the team was in Nebraska.

The killer was, in fact, a massive fan of the infamous Justin Millers. It was just a matter of pinpointing which of the crazy fanatics he was, which might have been easier if the local populace was more open to talking to law enforcement.

It was by a brilliant stroke of luck, or rather misfortune, that the team realized sending you undercover would help on many different levels. Not only did you fit the victimology, (all they needed to do was get you a ‘job’ at one of the local bars) but you would also be able to get information from the civilians that were unwilling to talk to the FBI.

Four days into your undercover mission, you found yourself wiping down the counter after closing. The band was packing up their equipment on stage and your boss had already left. Laily, the only other bartender here tonight, was flirting with the drummer while you closed things up behind the counter.

As was customary, the members of your team had taken turns following you around everyday just in case anything happened. Today just so happened to be Spencer’s turn, you’d managed to slip him into the back room before all the customers had left for the night. It was the only reason you gave Laily the okay when she asked if you would be cool closing by yourself tonight.

“I can’t believe after five years of college, I’m back to bartending.” You grumbled, shouldering the backroom door open with a box full of beer in your hands. Spencer jumped up from the crate he’d been leaning against, holding the back of the door open so you could get in a little easier.

“You were a bartender before?” He asked curiously, trying to ignore the way the low-cut black uniform shirt you were wearing fit against your figure and twisted his insides. Factor in the tight jeans that hung on your hips and the sheen of sweat on your skin from the hot summer night and he could barely focus, let alone protect you from any possible threats.

“The years between my college graduation and my joining the FBI, yeah. I could have done something different, I guess, but I wanted to have a normal young adult job before I spent the rest of my life chasing serial killers and such.” You turned to face him, actually meeting his eyes for the first time this week.

Unlike you, he was wearing his FBI Kevlar. The navy blue tie that he wore was tucked into the top of it, the baby blue sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up around his elbows. You, yourself, were having an awful time trying to keep from getting all kinds of flustered just looking at him.

The young profiler you remember was all wiry and clean cut, the man in front of you is more scraggly. His hair curls around his jawline and his forearms are far more attractive than anybody’s forearms ought to be.

His parents were just showing off, casually bringing a child into the world that looks like that.

“I don’t want things to be weird between us.” He blurted, surprising himself. You could tell by the way his brows dipped down and he took a step back immediately after saying it. Even his cheeks were a little pink.

“What happened between us was like seven years ago and all you did was tell me you had a crush on me. And then take it back. I just don’t want it to affect our work relationship because everyone already likes you a lot and I want to get the chance to like you as well.” For someone who always seems so very shy and awkward, his eyes look directly into yours, narrowing just a little. His tongue pokes out from between his lips and turns all of your bones to jelly underneath you.

He just ages like fine wine and you know that, should you be offered a permanent position at the BAU, that you would have to spend the rest of your working days keeping yourself in check while the man in front of you continued to evolve into a more gorgeous version of himself every year. The Spencer you remember had felt like peak Spencer, now this Spencer felt like peak Spencer, but who is to say that five years from now, when he decides to grow a little stubble and style his hair differently, that he wouldn’t somehow get even more attractive?

You open your mouth to come up with some bullshit answer that you didn’t really mean in order to smooth things over, when the door opens again. Spencer, standing directly infront of said door, looks not unlike a deer caught in the headlights of a truck barreling right at him going way too fast on a backroad.

Time crawls at an unusual pace, the door slowly creaking open and Laily’s voice filtering in the opening. Why did he have to wear that stupid vest? Surely the FBI has bullet proof vests you could wear under your clothing. The only idea you could come up with was, honestly, not a very good one. But it was the only one you had.

Practically launching yourself across the room, you catch Spencer’s lips against your own like the world depends on it. Using your own hands, you position Spencer’s arms around you with one hand on the back of your head and the other grabbing underneath your leg that hooks around his waist. The vest uncomfortably digs into your chest with how close your bodies are against one another, your arms now thrown around his neck, but if he keeps kissing you like this then you’ll be inclined to ignore it.

Just seconds ago he had been begging you to have a normal relationship despite your silly ‘past’ crush, now his tongue was fighting for dominance in your mouth. The irony was not lost on you.

“Oh.” Laily gasps a little when she sees you in such a compromising position. The lights from the bar illuminating every detail so that she could see the way Spencer’s fingers desperately tangled in the strands of your hair or how the muscles in his forearm strained as he hungrily pulled your body even closer than before.

The blush on your cheeks and neck are real when you pull your lips away, fire erupting in the pit of your stomach when Spencer catches your bottom lip in between his teeth for just a second. The look in his eyes is devilish when you tilt your head over your shoulder to meet her gaze.

“I’m sorry Laily, this is my boyfriend, Lance. I just- I heard about all those girls that have been going missing and I asked if he would drive me home.” The look in your coworkers eyes is all you need to know that this does not look like just a ride home. Although, it very well could have led to a ride somewhere if she had been just a handful of minutes slower.

“Nice to meet you, Lance. Gwen, I’ll see you tomorrow. Just,” the mischievous twinkle in her eyes does not go unnoticed by the two doctors in the room still tangled around each other, “maybe clock out before things get anymore heated.” She teases, the tone of her voice suggesting that you will be hearing more of this tomorrow.

“Bye, Laily!” The door clicks shut behind her, followed by the chuckles and giggles of Laily and the band as they leave for the night. You relax into Spencer’s arms, moving as if to pull out of them before they tense around you.

“We should be safe now.” You whisper, looking up into his eyes that burn with an intensity you’ve never seen in them before. That damn tongue sweeps across those perfect lips again, drawing your attention and reminding you that you now know what they feel like locked with yours.

“I think I hear somebody coming.” He whispers back, aware that you can both hear the soft bang of the front door closing and locking shut from the outside. Since the killings, the door was always locked if employees were still inside, as a safety precaution. Nobody else was coming in tonight unless they had a key.

Your lips meet his anyways, too tired to pretend that the heat between you wasn’t there. If this was the excuse he needed to kiss you, then you were all the more willing to give it to him. His tongue sweeps across the seam of your lips, causing them to open against his mouth and deepen the kiss.

Both of his wide hands splay against your hips, curling into the soft skin there and pulling you toward him with such force that you nearly trip. The hard edges of his Kevlar vest dig into your ribs and collarbone, the rough material scratching against your exposed skin as you push yourself up on your toes. When he breaks from the kiss, both of you gasping for air not from the length of it by from the passion, it is not to end your tryst.

His lips find the pulse at your neck, sucking a bruise at the soft skin there and pulling a moan from deep within your chest.

“Won’t- Won’t Morgan and Prentiss get worried,” your brain feels like the motherboard of a computer that Spencer has taken into his hands and slammed into a countertop, you can’t think when his teeth nip a love bite to the hickey he’s made on your neck, “if we, uhm, we take too long?”

If you thought the Spencer you met seven years ago was different from the Spencer you knew now, it was only because you’d never seen his bright hazel brown eyes darken with lust from beneath those impossibly long golden lashes. He was a completely different person as he unstrapped himself from the Kevlar, laying it on the floor with a solid thunk before gathering you back into his arms.

“They’ll be okay,” He said in between kisses trailed along your jawline. His movements are confident as he dips a hand down the front of your jeans and into your underwear. Your arms tighten around him, pulling your face into the crook of his neck when his fingers find the already wet entrance to your sex. His answering growl does nothing to keep you from coming undone as he presses the pad of his thumb to the bundle of nerves there. “I’m guessing it won’t be long before I have you in the palm of my hands, anyways.”

You rock your hips into him, your eyes fluttering shut with a gasp when he thrusts two long fingers inside of you. His other arm is wrapped around the center of your back, holding you to him because lord knows you can’t be trusted on your own two feet at a moment like this.

“Is this why you planned on ignoring me? Because you wouldn’t be able to handle it if I didn’t give you this?” You whimper a response, too focused on the relentless pace he has set with his fingers to come up with anything coherent. Everything about the moment is raw and animalistic, every fantasy you’d had about him during the fifty minute lecture did not even begin to touch on the feeling of his hand actually inside of you.

“Spencer, please.” You whined, dropping your arms from his shoulders and gripping onto his biceps like it will keep your soul from leaving your body. Yet, as heavenly as this felt, and as much as it exceeded your fantasies, you wanted more. Every part of you craved the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, sticky with sweat and feverish to the touch.

On a tight time constraint, Spencer doesn’t make you beg anymore than that. Instead, he delights in the way you cry out when he pulls his hand out of your pants and up to his lips. Your own lips part with a tiny popping sound when you watch him put those same fingers into his mouth with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Strip.” He commands, licking the taste of you off his lips and leisurely working at the knot of his tie. You don’t waste a second in crossing your arms over your body to pull the black material over your head and drop it at your feet. Next to come off is your shoes, clattering across the wooden floor when you kick them to the side.

By the time you make it to your pants, Spencer has only undone a quarter of the navy blue buttons on his shirt.

“I need you now, Spencer.” The buttons slip through your fingers, your hands shaking with excitement more than nerves. Although, the nerves are definitely apart of it. Never in a million years did you think you would be here; in the backroom of a bar in Nebraska, with Spencer Reid doing salacious things to you. While on your first case with the BAU, nontheless.

Doing a complete one-eighty, his hands come up to cover your own just before the last button comes undone. His touch is gentle and prompts you to look up into his coffee colored eyes. The light from the single bulb dangling from the ceiling is no good, and yet somehow he manages to look like a piece of artwork painted by the most skilled hand known to mankind.

“We don’t have to do this here. We don’t have to do this at all, if you don’t want to.” You squint your eyes up at him, using your fingernail to pop the last button through the hole on the other side of the shirt. When you let go, the pieces fall away from his chest like he’s caught in slow motion on a Calvin Klein commercial.

“I said I needed you now, not later.” In response, he scoops you into his arms and wraps your legs around his hips. The electricity that pops and crackles between you is nearly visible in the dimly lit room, the fabric of your bra skimming against his collarbone when you breath.

The little whines and whimpers that fall from your lips are driving Spencer crazy, forcing him to push through the door and lower you to a shorter countertop meant for making drinks. Tonight it would be used for other, more wicked things.

“Someone’s a bit excited.” You breathed. There was no way you could take a full breath in a moment like this. Everything was so heated and yet nothing was really happening.

“Shut the fuck up.” And then he was kissing you, his lips warm against your own. Despite the fact that you didn’t think it was possible, he pulled you closer. You knitted your fingers into his curls and gave them a slight tug. God, you loved these curls.

He began sucking a heated trail down your throat, quite possibly leaving a pathway of hickeys. You would be putting makeup over them for at least thirty minutes before you left your hotel room tomorrow, but for now they were heavenly fire against your skin.

Spencer took away his lips long enough to strip from his remaining clothes and throw them over his shoulder. When he stood in front of you looking like a Roman god, bared to no one but yourself, it made you feel like the luckiest person alive.

“I’m so in love with your body.” He groaned just before his lips found your breast, sucking on your nipple. Your head fell back and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You fumbled for a moment, patting around the countertop before your brain turned on long enough to get your hand between your legs and down to his naked erection.

He moaned into your breast as you began to move your hand. He let go of your boob and went straight back up to your mouth. His whole body was tensed up but his lips were soft as they parted against against your lips. The whole world felt like it was on fire, and his every touch was another lick of flames.

You move your hand faster, enjoying every groan and grunt and moan that finds it’s way out of his mouth and into yours. He’s already close to orgasm, you can tell by the way he breaks from the kiss, your foreheads pressed together and your breath stirring in the small space between your faces. His grip is tight when he grabs your wrist to make you stop.

“No.” Every nerve and thought and feeling was consumed by you and everything else short-circuited. Spencer couldn’t get the words out of his mouth to properly express what he wanted, it wasn’t often that the young genius was rendered speechless.

But you knew, you knew that he wanted to be inside of you. You knew that because you wanted him inside of you just as much, if not more, than he did. You shift your hips around on the counter, getting closer to the edge as you widen your legs.

“I’m on the pill.” You whisper, watching the sudden realization that he hadn’t come prepared widen his eyes for just a small fraction of a second. Just as quickly, the fear turns into that devlish grin you weren’t aware someone so beautifully shy and awkward could possess.

“Thank you, Pincus, Sanger, and McCormick.” You barely have time to question the comment, although later you’ll realize he’s probably talking about three of the minds behind the invention of the birth control pill. No longer taking his time, Spencer positions himself right at your entrance before running the tip of his cock along your wet folds.

“Fuck!” He slams into you, running his entire length into your body, hitting depths you didn’t even realize had never been touched until he was thrusting against them. It sends a wave of pleasure through every cell in your body as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss him like you’re running out of oxygen.

He holds onto your hips as he repeatedly rams his hips into yours. He has buried his face into the crook of your neck, letting every curse and moan muffle into your skin. The glasses under the counter jangle with every merciless thrust inside you. The sharp bite of his nails digging into your hips makes you hiss, but it’s more from pleasure than pain.

There’s no dirty talking anymore. Every ounce of pretend you both go through while around one another is shed like seconds skins, leaving two people so hungry for each other that it had been too much to bare.

Your fingers are twisted around the short curls at the nape of his neck and your teeth are biting into the solid muscle at his shoulder. The bar always had whiffs of sex and sweat in the air that mixed with the smell of alcohol and perfume, but now it was the strongest scent in the room.

Even as your orgasm starts to build in your belly, you want more. You want to hold him so close that your brain wouldn’t be able to distinguish where you ended and he began. Letting go of his shoulder, your head lolls back and your own nails draw long lines of red down his neck.

“Spencer!” His name leaves your lips in a mix of a sob and a moan, the ecstasy of just his touch alone driving you higher and higher. The sting of his nails leave your hips, one hand reaching to the place where your connected and the other coming up to grip your jaw in his hand.

His thumb rubs against the little button of pleasure that causes your legs to start to tingle like they’ve been asleep for too long. All the while, he ruthless pace doesn’t falter. Sweat sticks a few of his curls to his temples, providing a beautiful glowing effect across the smooth planes and angles of his shoulders and collarbones.

He leans forward to catch your lips in a kiss that ends much too quickly for your taste, but you can feel the rapid exhalation of his breaths as it fans across your cheek.

“Come.” Usually a man of so many words, you had always assumed it would be the same in his sex life. Maybe it was true in most cases, but right now his desire to see you succumb to the pleasure of him inside of you outweighs the need to taunt and tease you with words.

Meeting his eyes, getting off on the smug look that twists his lips as much as you are getting off on his dick actually inside of you, you let yourself fall into the sweet release of your orgasm. Spencer doesn’t stop as you come around him, instead he quickens the pace as his own release works its way to the edge.

Your legs are still shaking when he buries himself into you with one final thrust, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth. He chases the sting of his teeth away with the softness of the kiss that follows, loosing himself in the aftershocks of your own orgasm.

Neither of you move, although he ends the kiss to gasp for air with your foreheads once again pressed against each other. His eyes are closed, the dark pink on his cheeks and neck making him look so much younger than he was. You keep your eyes open, trying to drink in every second and commit it to your memory the way it would forever be in his.

When he steps away, leaving you feeling much more empty than you’d felt in a really long time, the cocktail of your orgasms spill down the inside of your thighs. Suddenly feeling a bit self conscious, you slip off the counter with your arm wrapped around your bared breasts.

The air seems too cold, the bar too quiet, and your mind was too loud with insecurities as you tried to steady yourself on wobbly knees. Nevertheless, you attempt to make a beeline for the backroom door. If you go and put your clothes back on then maybe you could go back to pretending like he doesn’t exist and everything will be fine.

That is until one of those solidly handsome arms come out to stop you in your pursuit of denial.

He’s still naked, standing next to you like a statue carved by the hands of Michaelangelo himself. Although, you aren’t sure the renissance artist would sculpt nail marks into his skin, the signs of your heated escapade only darkening with time. You can only imagine what your own neck looks like, several spots of sensitive skin still overly stimulated from his wandering mouth.

From your vantage point, you can see his swollen lips open to say something, probably that this had been a mistake, when his phone rings from the pair of pants he’d so carelessly thrown to the floor earlier. A small frown mars his angelic features, the side of his mouth twitching with aggravation.

His lips on yours are a surprise you weren’t expecting, despite the sexual encounter you’d just had. This kiss speaks more words than he could ever possibly say, easing all the post-coital dysphoria that comes with the sudden fall from the high you’d been on. It’s gentle and warm, the hand on your arm squeezes reassuredly before he breaks away with one last peck to your forehead. It nearly tears your beating heart out of your chest.

“Come to my hotel room later.” And then he bends down to snag the phone from his pants with an aggravated growl, turning away from you as he lies through his teeth to a worried Prentiss on the other end.

In the backroom, having shimmied back into your pants and going to put your shirt back over your head, you fingers find your lips. They’re just a little swollen, exactly like his, but you wonder if he can still feel that final kiss against them the way that you could.

Oh boy, were you in trouble.

[drabbles-mc]

Protective Detail (21/?)

Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader

Warnings: language, alcohol, very mild angst

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Y’all. Alright so I know it’s been approximately 5 million years since I’ve updated this story. But. Here we are nonetheless. That being the case, this is partially a filler/setup chapter, partially me getting back into the swing of this fic. I think about it constantly and I do have stuff planned for it down the road so please bear with me. Love you. xo

Chapter Index

Protective Detail Taglist: @garbinge @kelpies-shed @masterlistforimagines @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindos @the-radical-venus @gemini0410 @slutformayansmc @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @sesamepancakes @tigers2019 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @xladymacbethx @georgiaaintnopeach @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @capnsaveahoe​ @encounterthepast @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop​ @blessedboo​ @holl2712 @lakamaa12​ @adaydreamaway08​ @stephaniem1519 @youlovetkay​ @kkim120​ @toni9​ @shadow-of-wonder​ @queenshikongo3​ @bigchoose​ @crowfootwrites​ @redpoodlern​ @punkgoddess-98​ @black-repunzel99​ @lexondeck​ @mveggieburger​ @fckwritersblock​ @mrsstevenbuchananstark​ @amorestevens​ @angelreyesisdaddy04​ @mijagif​ @frattsparty​ @winchestershiresauce​ @bellisperennis0​ @beardburnsupersoldiers​ @thanossexual​ @xeniarocks​ @choochoo284​ @littlekittymeow​ @beardsanddetectives​ @soltaasbruxas​ @slut-bitch-brat​ @i-love-scott-mccall​ (If you want to be added just let me know!)

It'd been a few days since the conversation with your father. You’d gone to see him the next day to get the money in order, and after that it was just a few quick meetings and the last of the paperwork. For all intents and purposes, you were now part-owner in what was going to be a very quickly growing business empire. It was hard to wrap your head around it, but you knew the reality of it would be settling in very soon. Slowly getting out of the current phase of your life was going to be tough, and a little heartbreaking the way that moving on always is, but you knew that there was no going back on it now.

You’d spent your entire shift trying to figure out how to talk to Jade about it. You knew that never in a million years would she give you a hard time about it. Truthfully, you were more upset about giving all of this up than she probably was going to be. Change was hard, and so much of it was happening all at once.

“Hey, Jade,” you started, trying to summon up the courage to tell her everything that was going on, “Can we talk for a minute?”

Concern flashed across her face and she nodded, setting her rag to the side, “Always. What’s going on, baby?”

You sighed, leaning over the counter of the bar as you faced her, “I, uh. I got a job offer.”

“Oh?” the surprise was evident on her face—this clearly wasn’t where she thought the conversation was going.

“Yea,” you nodded, “It’s, um, it’s one I can’t really refuse.”

Her expression fell—she knew that it had to do with your father, “What kind of offer?”

“A good one,” you admitted, although there was still hollowness in your tone as you tried to mentally process all the changes that were coming your way, “Couple of guys my father works with opening up a bar a couple towns over. They need a partner who is willing to manage things on a day-to-day basis as they expand. Gonna help them build it from the ground up. If that goes well, that’s going to essentially be what I do for any other establishments we put up, and then I’ll start being in charge of some of the bigger picture stuff once I get in the swing of it all,” as you said it all out loud, it made you realize that you were basically set for the short and long term as long as you stuck with it and everything played out the right way. There was a strange sense of security in it, “They want me to start next week.”

“Shit,” she nodded, clearly impressed, “that’s great.”

“Yea. Still don’t wanna leave here, though,” you let out a tired laugh, “Think you could come with me?”

She chuckled, shaking her head, “If only,” she paused, “But this is gonna be good for you, Y/N. Unfortunately, I think we all knew that this,” she motioned back and forth between the two of you, “was never a permanent fix. There were always much larger pieces in this chess game.”

You nodded, knowing that she was right. This was a nice pitstop on your way to your final destination. She walked around and grabbed two glasses, pouring whiskey into both before handing one to you and walking back to her seat on the other side of the bar. The two of you clinked them together before taking a sip. You cringed, never having gotten used to the taste of it.

“You’re gonna be fine, you know,” she said, seeing the sadness and apprehension in your features, “You know I’d love to keep you here forever, but this is gonna be a real good thing for you.”

“I hope so,” you traced your finger around the edge of your glass.

A few moments of silence passed and then Jade spoke up, “I figured I’d have more time to wait you out and pick your brain. But since that’s not the case…mind if I ask you something?”

You smiled, nodding, “Ask away.”

“What happened with you and your bodyguard?” she gestured to the stool he used to sit on.

You shrugged, trying to downplay the situation, “He got reassigned.”

She gave you a look that let you know you couldn’t bullshit your way out of it, “C’mon. That was more than a professional relationship. I could see it and I only ever saw you guys a few nights a week.”

You smiled as you stared down into your glass, “It was stupid. I was stupid.”

“That doesn’t sound quite right.”

You looked up at her, managing a quiet laugh despite the tears in your eyes, “Alright, maybe stupid isn’t the right word. He and I just had different expectations, I guess. I wanted more than he could give. I just…got in a little over my head.”

She chuckled, “That sounds a little more like you,” she reached over and rested her hand on top of yours, “I’m sorry.”

You nodded, quickly wiping the tears from the edges of your eyes, “It’s okay. It’s probably for the best, right? Considering all the larger chess pieces.”

Jade nodded but you could tell that her heart wasn’t in it. The two of you finished off your drinks and went back to cleaning up the bar. There was a lot to wrap your heads around. The rest of the night passed in silence, and you could feel that Jade was watching you to make sure that you were alright.

As the two of you left and locked up, you could tell that there were a lot of things that Jade wanted to say to you but wouldn’t. She knew that there was a lot that she didn’t know about your father and what he did, and she tried very hard to keep it that way for her own sake. You knew that, too, which is why you never told her more than the absolute minimum. It was one thing for you to accept the weight of the realities of your father’s life, of his world, but it was another to put that on someone else who had worked so hard to build a legitimate life for herself the way that Jade had. Despite all of that, though, she had always been willing to listen and advise the best that she could. There were so few people in your world like that.

“I know my opinion might not mean much,” she said as you walked out into the parking lot, “But if you were to ask for it, I would tell you that you’re gonna figure all of this out. It’s a lot, but you’re going to make it work.”

You smiled, “You’re too kind.”

“Not that kind,” she laughed, “You know the only thing that your father ever asked of me when I hired you, was that I look out for you while you were here,” she nudged your shoulder, “which I would have done anyway even if I had no idea who he was. I hope you know that you’re still my friend. Always will be. You are always welcome to come back here or reach out to me, no matter where you end up.”

You hugged her, “Thank you, Jade. I really appreciate everything that you’ve done for me.”

She held you tight for a moment, “Of course. You still coming in for your last few shifts?”

You pulled back, smiling, “Hell yea. Can’t get rid of me that easy.”

She laughed and nodded, “Alright, then I’ll see you soon. Stay out of trouble.”

Climbing into your car, you rested your head back against the seat with a sigh. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Jade getting into her own car. It hit you that it was going to be one of the last times you were going to be in that situation, or even in that parking lot at all. You had less than one week left of pretending that you led any semblance of a normal life. With a slight shake of your head, you tried not to think too far into the future and instead turned the key in the ignition, beginning your trek home.

Sitting in your father’s office the following afternoon, you sat with him going over the plans that had been given to you by Jude and Raymond. It was a short-term timeline to help things get off the ground as quickly as possible. It was the perfect paper trail, and if you and your father played it right, it would feed directly into what your longer-term plans were.

“They said that renovations should be done by the end of the week,” you told him as you idly tapped your pen on the paper, “Just gotta start hiring staff.”

“You’re in charge of that?”

You nodded, “For the most part. There are a couple people that they already guaranteed jobs to, which I’m not going to argue with. If it doesn’t work out, though, I told them already that leaving me in charge of day-to-day means that I get to decide if someone’s getting axed.”

Your father chuckled, “Setting expectations early on?”

“Don’t look surprised—you taught me that,” you smiled.

There were a few moments of silence between you before your father spoke up, “You’re still comfortable with this? I realize that it’s not hypothetical anymore, and that can change things.”

You nodded, “I’m alright. Really. Just,” you pinched the bridge of your nose, “trying to wrap my head around how I’m supposed to be interviewing these people for what they think are legitimate jobs when really all it is, is—”

“They are legitimate jobs,” he didn’t let you finish the thought, “Everything they’ll be doing is perfectly legal. What goes on behind the scenes, off the books, during transports, that’s nothing that is going to impact them.”

You waited for him to meet your gaze so he could see the look of disbelief on your face, “Papí, por favor,” you sighed as you leaned back in your chair, “se honesto.”

He chuckled, “Basta, mija,” he shook his head, “This is business. This is how it all works. The less they all know, the better.”

“Right,” you took a deep breath, “Anyway. Besides the plans, is there anything else you need from me for now?”

“I don’t think so,” he glanced over the paperwork on his desk, “You’re going to be operating almost exclusively with Raymond and Jude for the time being. Once things settle and start to go no the rise, we’ll have to sit and work some things out.”

There was a brief pause before you asked the question that you couldn’t stop yourself from asking, “How closely will I be working with Galindo?”

He knew it was coming, “You’re running in the same circles as him now, Y/N. You can’t get out of that.”

“I’m not trying to. I’m just…I’m trying to prepare myself.”

It was true. You needed to know what you were in for, how often you were going to have to speak with him and work with him. At face value, it didn’t seem like your business and Miguel’s would have any crossover, but as soon as you crossed into illegitimate territory, all the lines got blurred. He and your father had ironed out a lot of things over the years, but adding you into the mix meant that everything was going to get reworked.

And, while all of those were true and perfectly valid concerns, you knew that any time you had to see Miguel, you were most likely going to have to see Nestor. And that put a knot in your stomach unlike anything else.

“It’s not something you need to be concerned about yet. But, I won’t lie to you, there is going to be a period of reconfiguring. After that, as long as things run smoothly, you won’t have to see him more than a couple times a month,” he watched your expression intently.

You let out a quiet, hollow chuckle, “As long as things run smoothly. Right.”

“I have faith that you will run things well. If for no other reason, than to avoid him,” there was an amused look in his eyes and you couldn’t help but to laugh.

“Spite is one hell of a motivator, huh?”

“I can’t encourage it, but,” he paused, “yes.”

There was a soft smile on your face as you stood up from your chair and started stacking all of your papers together. Truthfully, a lot of what you’d gone over with him could’ve been done over the phone, but there was a sense of comfort in having the discussions in person while you were still acclimating to things. He wouldn’t always be there to guide you through it so closely, but you were going to take the assistance while you could get it. Plus, he didn’t seem to mind it at all, just glad that you were going to be in it with him 100%.

“I’ll keep you posted if anything changes,” you packed up your folders into your bag, “But other than that, I’ll see you at the grand opening.”

True, beaming smiles from your father weren’t exactly common, but he had one at that statement. He nodded, “You will.”

Walking around to his side of the desk, you leaned and kissed him on the cheek, “Cuídate, Papí. Te quiero.”

“Tú también. Te quiero,” he gave you a slight nod before you turned and made your way out of his office.

You were carefully shutting the door behind you when you heard a set of footsteps getting closer. Your natural assumption was that it was someone who worked in the house, so you didn’t pay it too much mind. Your focus was on the bag hanging from your shoulder as you dug around for your car keys. It wasn’t until the footsteps stopped and you felt someone staring at you, that you forced yourself to look up and see who it was.

Fighting the urge to sigh, you set your shoulders back and met Miguel’s gaze. You didn’t say anything, didn’t give any nod of form of acknowledgment besides the unwavering eye contact. You had no interest in speaking with him, so you weren’t going to be the one to initiate conversation. It hit you that he was probably there to discuss some of the same things with your father that you’d just finished talking about—trying to piece together what things were going to look like moving forward. You were thankful that your father hadn’t thrown the three of you all in a room together just yet. A degree or two of separation was probably best for the time being.

There was a beat of silence and you took that as your cue to leave, so you simply stepped to the side and continued walking towards the front of your father’s house. You were a few strides past him when he finally spoke up, and it didn’t surprise you at all that he’d waited.

“Looking forward to working with you, Y/N,” he remarked.

You didn’t bother to look back at him, “Oh, I’m sure.”

Part of you expected to hear his footsteps catching up to you again, but the house was silent save for your own. Relief flooded through you as you made your way out. As you opened the front door of the house, you were momentarily blinded by the flood of sunlight. All those years of living there, and you never remembered how tinted your father’s windows were. Reaching into your bag, you pulled out your sunglasses and put them on so you wouldn’t trip and stumble down the front steps.

You were reaching for the handle of the back door to your car when you felt a pair of eyes on you. Turning around, you saw Nestor standing outside of Miguel’s SUV. His phone was in his hand, and clearly he had been doing something on it before he saw you, but whatever it had been fell to the wayside instantly when he saw you coming out the door.

He looked exactly like he had the first day he’d brought you home—all business. Despite the fact that he had his business clothes on, with his holsters and those damn yellow shades, it was hard to look at him and not see the version of Nestor you’d gotten so comfortable with inside the walls of your house. He looked so put together, the way you’d expect the head of security for a cartel to look, but you knew better.

It was clear on his face that he had to force the words out, but he wasn’t going to let you leave without saying something, “All good?”

You took a breath as you nodded, opening the back door of your car, “All good,” you tossed your bag onto the seat before turning back to him, “You?”

He gave a small shrug as he nodded, “I’m here.”

There was no real sincerity to the laugh that made its way out, “Apparently it’s the place to be. Reminds me that I need to turn that guest room into a home office.”

A smirk was tugging at the edge of his mouth, “Might not be the worst idea.”

You could feel the urge to continue the conversation starting to build, and you knew that you couldn’t handle that. You had no idea when you would be able to handle it, but not yet. You shut the back door before stepping forward and opening the front door to slide into the driver’s seat. Nestor knew exactly what you were doing, and whatever shred of enjoyment he’d had slipped away just as quickly as it’d come.

“Stay safe, Nes,” it was the most genuine thing you could offer up without letting things drag on.

He nervously toyed with the phone in his hands as he nodded, “You too.”

It took everything in you to not look in your rearview at him when you started to drive away. There were far too many other things to worry about for the time being to be bothered with old situations that weren’t going to change. Or, at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself until your father’s house faded from view.