#had jobs so he has to scramble to get one

[reiderwriter]

Flirting with the FBI

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word count: 7.1k

Request: Hiiii!! This is my first time requesting anything on this app, but Spencer reid has me in a chokehold. So, I was thinking that the reader is the unsub, and she's like this very good hacker who keeps teasing the fbi cause she's bored or something so she keeps sending hints about who she is or where she is but they keep getting nothing on her. And all of this just keeps getting on Spencer's nerves. And so when Spencer finds her, she keeps teasing him and acting like a brat so he "disciplines" her and takes her roughly and maybe a bit of spanking???

Warnings: a lot tbh - mentions of case details, mentions of domestic violence and police brutality, reader is a possible target of a serial killer, bad tech skills from the writer who really couldn't be bothered to do anymore research than the actual CM writing team, rough Dom Spencer, brat reader, sexual innuendo, semi-public sexual play, spanking, dirty talk (good girl, brat etc.) fingering, raw sex/creampie, aftercare, slight dacryphilia (crying kink) and bimbofication.

A/N: My last fic was a heartwarming family fic, and now I'm back to being depraved. Apologies to anyone here for cute fluff 😭

Masterlist

You always thought hacking the FBI mainframe would be hard, but it's one of the easiest things you've done all week.

If they were going to sit around doing nothing while a serial killer ran around in their own backyard, then obviously, they needed a helping hand. Or a helping poem or two.

Getting into their security camera feed was just an added bonus.

You grabbed your bowl of popcorn and settled into your desk chair, clicking open the window to find which room exactly they would gather in to freak out together.

You made sure to get their attention, blacking out all the computers in the office as they ran to a backroom where a very distraught looking blonde woman was sat. She was evidently the go-to tech support of about six agents who quickly ran to her room to figure out what the issue was. It was show time.

“There once was a serial killer,

Who ate boys and girl both for his dinner,

He cut, diced and slashed,

Left the feds quite abashed,

So I leave this message to be clearer”

The poem scrolled onto their screen on a loop, flashing in and out quickly before you let the computer systems relax again.

You thought they'd panic, scramble for a pen or paper or something, but none of the agents moved until the flashing was over.

You watched curiously as an older man took charge of the scene, likely directing the woman at the desk to figure out who you were, where you lived, and what your social security number was. She got to work quickly, and he moved on to the other agents.

None of them had written the poem down. None had even taken a picture, but one man started talking, and for a while, all eyes and attention in the room were focused solely on him. His hands moved as his mouth did, as if he were casting a spell over the room as he spoke. Even more intriguing was the fact that he rarely seemed to make eye contact with any of them as he spoke. He wasn't conversing or giving directions. He was simply talking.

And you really wanted to listen in.

The younger man began to walk and you watched him quickly pace over to a whiteboard, switching from one feed to another as he made his way there, and pick up a pen before notating the poem perfectly.

Whoever this man was, he was making you feel more and more excited about the game of cat and mouse you had begun with the FBI. You weren't entirely sure if he was to be the cat or the mouse, though.

A few days later, they'd seemingly lost the motivation to work, so you again did their job for them.

With another accompanying limerick to help them along, of course.

“There once was a bullpen full of agents,

Who thought they were very surveillant,

But a simply code crack,

And there system did hack,

A young girl who lived quite adjacent.”

This time, you let the words linger on the screen longer, as you slipped your information into their files, leaving more bread crumbs they could follow to the real villain.

The Agent - Doctor, you had since learned - took up his pen once again and scribbled your first poem next to your most recent.

Doctor Spencer Reid. An IQ of 187, three PhDs and however many Bachelor's Degrees, a member of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, and, as you could somehow tell from the grainy security footage, incredibly attractive man.

He was calm, again talking with his hands as he notated, again drawing the rooms attention like he was the sun and everything needed to orbit him to sustain life. You wondered what it would be like to fluster him.

Typing something out quickly, you broke back into the FBI system. It was risky doing it again so soon again, knowing that their tech analyst was already actively hunting you down, cyber-wise. But you couldn't resist.

“The tall, dark and handsome employee,

How I do wish that he could enjoy me,

I would gladly submit,

we match wit for wit,

But he's trying his best to arrest me.”

The BAU team stood silent on the camera before the two women on the team burst into rambunctious laughter. The camera feed was archaic, black and white, and grainy to boot, but even you couldn't miss the red stain against Doctor Spencer Reid's cheeks. A bonus was the other gentlemen subtly posturing, trying to figure out exactly which of them was “tall, dark, and handsome.”

The payoff for that poem was so great that over the course of the next few days, you kept serenading him with love poems among your quick hints about the actual crime being committed.

You'd first suspected the man of being dangerous when you'd seen the state of his wife. 19 domestic disturbance calls in two months, 0 arrests, and 1 very cushy job as a police detective. You'd done some simple computer programming for your local precinct, inputting data from cases into an algorithm that helped track everything easier, so you'd been intimate with cases that he'd handled.

A pattern had emerged, a series of murders of “undesirables,” people the city didn't care about when alive and certainly didn't have the resources to allocate to after their deaths. Prostitutes, the homeless, and runaway foster kids. All missing or dead, all cases handled by the same officer. The officer that lived next door to you and was one beer away from beating his wife into submission 5 days a week.

After your third 911 call, you'd been notified of your contract termination with the precinct. After the tenth, you noticed parole cars driving by every hour.

By call number 19, you were sure it was a miracle he hadn't tried to have you arrested.

So you turned back to the FBI to see what they could do about a man who treated his wife, and basically everyone else, like scum of the earth.

“Please don't get sidetracked by my hacking,

I'm a good girl, your team I am backing,

the killer, you see,

Is right now hunting me,

You're the ones who can do better tracking.”

You watched the tension snap back into place in the office as, for the first time, Spencer Reid was silent at your message. They all got back to work quickly, going over the files you'd dropped in their servers.

That night, Spencer Reid stayed in the office late, reading through piles and piles of files and looking for the connection he needed. You watched in pity, feeling almost guilty that you'd placed this burden on him instead of just approaching them honestly. But you'd called the police before, and it hadn't worked, so getting attention anyway you could was the only way to go.

You watched for so long that you began noticing his small habits. Each time you sensed frustration, he would run a hand through his hair and tug it slightly. When he found something, he leaned in closer to the page, as if his proximity to the words would make them clearer. Finally, he stood and began clearing his files. But you weren't quite ready to sign off yet, the shouting already beginning in the apartment next to yours, so you quickly typed out the first thing that came to mind to get him to stay.

“There once was a doctor called Reid,

Who I simply and truly just need,

I would lie on my back,

And then let him attack,

Any inch of my body with his seed.”

He fumbled the files in his haste to remove your words from his screen, from every screen now in the building, face awash with embarrassment as he looked around for some sign that no one witnessed your words.

Luck was not to be had as the tech analyst - Penelope Garcia - came shooting out of her office to join him in the near empty bullpen, and the older team leader - Aaron Hotchner - also looked out over the bannister from his office as they bore witness to your seduction.

You were driving Spencer Reid crazy.

He'd spent the last two weeks tracking down a serial killer who may or may not exist based on the word of a set of limericks delivered to the BAU through illegal means that had begun unabashedly flirting with him.

This latest limerick was his last straw.

“The cameras are how I can see you,

I do find myself enjoying the view,

His hair is so fine,

I wish he was mine,

The agent with more PhDs than two.”

“Another score, pretty boy, it was about time someone noticed your good looks instead of your brain for once.” Morgan patted him on the shoulder, barely containing his glee and laughter.

“She's watching us through security feed, and that's all you have to say?” he grumbled, writing out this limerick again, the words to the others burned into his brain. “She's playing with me.”

“It sure sounds like she'd enjoy doing just that,” Emily laughed from her desk, “but I think she might be right, Spencer. Every case file she's given us has suspicious activity on it. They're all unsolved, but the victims aren't linked.”

“He's crossing race and gender boundaries, but he's hitting undesirables.”

They had a case because of you. It didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy handcuffing you and putting you in a cell once this was all finished.

“WE'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE,” Penelope shouted from her office, to no avail. If it was at one computer, it was on all of them.

“The agents grew closer by day,

As the killer wanted to escape,

He paced across the floor,

As I watched by his door,

Getting closer than the agents could say.”

He paused then for a second, thinking through each of the limericks in turn and the panic began.

“Closer than… Emily, the officer that took in all of the cases, what was his name?”

“Officer Falstaff, why?”

“I think he might be our killer. And I think he knows she's on to him, or if he doesn't, he will soon.” He stood suddenly, grabbing a file and sprinting to Penelope’s office, Emily and Morgan trailing close behind.

“Spencer, wait-”

“No time. If we want them both alive, we have to move now.”

Throwing the door to Penelope’s room open, he didn't even bother with niceties.

“Can you get her a message?” He demanded, panting from the short run.

“A wha-? Spencer, what are you talking about?”

“Can you send the hacker a message? Or leave her one so she can find it when she comes?”

Penelope swivelled around in her chair once again, doing who-knows-what to answer his question.

“There's no telling what she actually sees in our servers, Spencer, we didn't see any breach in classified files, the only thing she's done is read your personal file and drop us hints.”

His hands closed into fists as he nodded along. “So no?”

“No, Spencer, I'm sorry. Why? Are you starting to grow fond of our little helper.”

“She's not our little helper. She's a criminal. And she'll be dead soon if I don't confirm with her that we have the right guy - excuse me.”

The anger was washing over him now, as he left the room to get some air, getting only as far as the corridor before slamming an open palm into the wall and resting his forehead against it for a moment, just thinking.

The stress of the case was almost too much for him as he turned around and rested his back against the wall, sliding down it until he was sat on the floor. He may have despised you at that moment, but he didn't want you to get yourself killed.

Something nagged him, still, some stress or anger that hadn't yet surfaced, or some case fact he was missing. A glint at the corner of his eye had him looking up to the camera currently trained directly on him.

Computers are useless, he thought to himself, when you can send a letter.

The next time you sat down at your desk, you weren't exactly shocked to see an up close and personal shot of Aaron Hotchner - they'd turned your security stream into a one way facetime and you were sat directly opposite the big boss himself in an interrogation room.

“Checkmate, I guess,” you said, waiting for the man to move.

A signal from behind the camera let him know you were online and watching. He picked up a pen and paper and scribbled down something before holding the note out to you once more.

The name and location of the bastard next door. They'd done it, and now you simply had to drop your evidence, shut down your computer, and wait for the sirens to sound.

You felt slightly sad typing out your last message, knowing that you had no more reason to stay in touch with the team now. Still, you were only human and couldn't resist the chance to say something more.

“Aaron Hotchner and his clever team,

Working with you has been like a dream,

When Reid comes it is wet,

And my mind is all set,

Oh, I do wish that he'd make me cream.”

The camera turned seconds after your message was sent, and there he was, reading intently, frow creased in annoyance as he tried to remain calm. He, too, picked up a pen and paper.

“I have questions,” the paper said when he turned it around. Holding it up for a few seconds before returning his pen to paper. You typed out a message before he could finish dictating his, though.

“When you find me there's lots for me to say,

I can't help simply feeling this way,

Your profile I read,

Can't believe you're a Fed,

I yearn for you all night and day.”

Somehow, the lines between his brow deepened as he quickly scribbled out another message. This one wasn't a question, though. It was simply two words.

He'd written your name on that paper. He'd found you.

You weren't sure if the tingle that ran up your spine was fear or anticipation. One one hand, you'd likely committed multiple felonies in the pursuit of justice, and the SWAT team about to pick up the killer was going to knock for you, too. On the other hand, it was pretty much a given that you would be seeing Spencer Reid in person in the next few hours.

“The Doctor had finally cracked it,

The only identity that could fit,

The pretty young thing,

Who'd been flirting with him,

And was thinking of sitting on his…”

You sent a second message along with the first.

“I couldn't make this one rhyme, Doc. Come and get me.”

The sound of the FBI outside your neighbour's door had you stepping away from the computer finally. It was time to get ready to see him. You stepped out of your robe and into the shower as you waited to be collected and hauled into a police vehicle.

xxx

So far, you were a bit disappointed by the look of the BAU offices. It was smaller than it appeared on the CCTV, and you hadn't exactly given the tour. Unless the whole tour was the wall from the elevators, through the bullpen and straight to interrogation room one. You were also slightly embarrassed that you had yet to be greeted by any of your favourite characters yet. The lead swat officer had led you in some desk agents dropping by to have you fill out some simple documents - waiving your rights and all that. You'd seen not even a single member of the BAU since dropping in two hours ago, but you felt his eyes on you.

You faced the mirror, trying your best to stare straight through it and into the man beyond.

Spencer Reid was there. He had to be. He was too curious to be anywhere else. You smiled at him through the mirror and waited.

You were right, of course. Spencer stood on the opposite side of the one-way window and watched you look for him in every inch of the glass. He watched you squirm when you couldn't find anything, watched you pick at your nails as he made you wait.

He watched you cross and uncross your legs, the short skirt you'd slipped into just before you left providing just enough mystery to catch his eye and his breath.

He was annoyed, frustrated, a little bit impressed, anxious, and - to his peril - turned on.

“Spencer,” Hotch said, breaking the man's concentration. “We can't keep her that much longer. Go in and say something, or I'll cut her loose.”

Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes away and stepped out of the waiting room before letting himself into yours.

“Miss Y/N, my name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I'm a profiler working with the Behavioural An-”

“You're joking, right?” You asked, eyes lighting up, spine straightening as you looked up at the man. “I know who you are, Doc.”

“Please call me Doctor Reid,” he asked, setting down a file on the table and looking over the desk at you.

“Oh, I don't even get your first name.” You lifted your leg and ran it along the side of his until he moved his chair back, just out of reach. You pouted as he began reading through documents, asking you to confirm exactly which technical breaches you were responsible for.

“And the breach at 1:27pm on Thursday 5th-”

“Yes, that was me, too. They were all me, Doc, is that all? Are we finished now?”

“I don't know, are we finished? Can I leave?”

“No,” you shouted, just as he stood up to gather his things. “No, don't go. I want to talk to you.”

He sat back down, finally looking at you instead of words on a page.

“Do you enjoy attention, Miss Y/N?” He asked, voice cold but gaze burning like fire into your skin.

“As much as anyone does.”

“Do you enjoy my attention?” The words hung between you for a few minutes as you watched him carefully, searching for the right answer.

“What do you think, Doc?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid,” he repeated reflexively.

“I know your name,” you smiled, and he finally looked away, breaking contact to regroup for a second.

“We have reason to believe you used your backdoor into our system to access my personal file, is that correct?” It may have been asked as a question, but Spencer Reid already knew the answer.

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

You laughed at the simple question, sure that your behaviour until this point was evidence enough to answer it.

“Why? Because you're attractive and your smart and-”

“Why haven't you used the content of the files as leverage? I've been digging at you for the last half hour, and you have plenty of ammunition to throw back at me, yet you haven't. Why?”

For the first time in a while, you were speechless.

“Oh. Wow. Should I have said something? Would you have felt more comfortable if I were a horrible person using your background to make you feel vulnerable?”

“Why, Y/N?”

You sighed and looked back up at him.

“I'm interested in you. That's it. Honestly, there is nothing in your file more interesting than how you look running your hands through your hair.”

His jaw clenched and unclenched before he let out a sigh.

“So you're a compulsive liar.” He said it so finitely it was like a kick in the teeth.

“Or maybe you're just insecure. I can help with that.”

He shot you another warning look as a grin spread over your lips. Yes, it was very fun to mess with Spencer Reid.

“FBI Agents aren't allowed to sleep with suspects.”

“You want to sleep with me?”

His eyes went wide as he realized his mistake, mouth opening and closing as he tossed another annoyed look in your direction.

The door to the interrogation room opened, and Reid quickly bolted out of his seat as Aaron Hotchner entered. The two men shared a nod before the younger man left the room entirely.

“Such a shame, I thought we were really getting somewhere.”

To your surprise, Hotchner’s lips curled up in a laugh as he sat down, straightening his suit.

“Miss Y/N, we've reviewed the information you've given us and taken into account your motives, and the FBI has decided not to prosecute you for your actions.”

You sat for a minute, Hotch doing the same, the both of you caught waiting for each other to say something or continue.

“But?” You prodded, knowing there was more left to say.

“But, we'd ask for your cooperation on cases in the future that require technological man-power. In a consultancy role, of course. You wouldn't be given a badge or a gun or any clearance, and you'd need to be with an agent at all times.”

You tapped your fingers against the desk, trying to figure out if this deal was beneficial or not.

“I'll do it if I can pick the Agent.”

Now, the man was fully smiling at you or giving you what you assumed passed for a smile in his books.

“We had recommended Doctor Reid for the role. Of course, if you're more comfortable with another agent, you can-”

“Doctor Reid is perfect, thank you.”

The man nodded and stood, and you stood with him as he led you quietly out of the room.

A flustered Spencer Reid exited the adjoining room, hurrying to catch Hotch before he really signed his life away to you.

“Hotch, what is this?” He demanded, stopping the man in his tracks. They both paused, turning around and moved a few feet awaywfrom.you whispering out their argument.

You couldn't catch most of it, but you did happen to catch the phrases “man-eater,” “I'm not good with people,” and “Spencer, this will be good for you.” Victory in the end went to Hotch, who promptly turned on his heel and kept walking down the hall.

“I work here now,” you said, grinning up at Spencer.

“No, you don't.”

“According to your boss, I do. And you're my babysitter.”

“You're a criminal. You hacked into the FBI database to leave ominous clues to multiple murders.”

“If you call those ominous clues, I'm curious how people usually flirt with you.”

“They don't. Why…why are we having this conversation?”

He stormed off ahead of you, and you quickened your pace to catch up to him, following him down a familiar hallway to what was obviously tech central at the BAU.

“Spencer, seriously? You're walking around looking like that, and no one hits on you?”

He stopped abruptly, and you ran into his back before he turned around to scowl at you again.

“Can we keep this serious, please?”

“I'm very serious about flirting with you, and I'm stumped why more people aren't.”

“Okay, let's go somewhere and talk,” his hand landed on your waist, readying his grip to forcibly move you if need be.

“I thought that's what we were doing.” Instead of allowing him to move you, you leaned into his touch, stepping closer and raising a hand to his chest, as his head dipped to maintain eye contact.

“No, this isn't talking, this is some weird foreplay I've never heard of, and I'd like you to leave my office if you're going to continue,” the woman sat at the desk exclaimed, horror and amusement fighting a battle for her facial expressions. “I like to keep my office a no trauma zone, so please take a walk to the nearest bed or storage closet or car and you can shove your tongues down each other's throats in peace and out of my sight, please and thank you.”

Spencer tried to step away, but a hand on his tie kept him close and kept his eyes on you. You poked your head out around him and smiled at the other woman.

“Sorry to disturb you. I'm Y/N. Based on the tech, I assume we will be working with each other soon.”

“Oh my gosh, you were, like, my number one most hated person last week. Penelope Garcia, tech analyst.”

“I'm sorry about that. If it makes it any better, it was really hard to get past some of your firewalls. And I couldn't even touch the classified files.”

“Apology accepted, on the condition that you lead young Reid out of my office right now before he explodes.”

You grinned and grabbed the man's hand, sending Penelope a quick goodbye as you pulled him out of the room.

He stumbled behind you for a few moments before catching up and pulling you in a different direction, keeping your hands intertwined as he bee-lined for the elevators and pushed the button to go down.

It arrived, and he pulled you in, not releasing your grip until the doors were fully closed and you were alone.

“Getting me all alone, Doc? What do you have in mind?”

“I'm driving you home.”

“My apartment is a crime scene, and I have no family in the city.”

“What about friends?”

“I've been stalked by a homicidal police officer for the last month and barricaded myself into an apartment. Do you think I have friends?”

His gaze was somewhat softer as he looked at you again. You saw the math happening in his head as he tried to figure out what to do with you. You also saw his brain short circuiting when you wrapped yourself around his arm.

“We're friends now, Doc. Isn't that right?”

“What?”

“We're friends,” you repeated again, tone becoming a little defensive in a pout.

“We are not friends, Y/N. We've known each other for less than 6 hours, and we haven't engaged in any friendly conversation.”

“We've known each other for two weeks, and I've been more than friendly enough for the both of us.”

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Gesturing for you to go first, Spencer hurried you out of the elevator and into the parking garage.

“Trust me, Spencer, deep down, part of you really wants to be friends with me,” you said poking his chest with a finger. You couldn't resist flattening your hand against his surprisingly hard chest and letting the hand drop slightly.

“And an ever deeper down part of you doesn't want to be friends at all,” you smiled at him.

He caught your wrist before it could reach his belt buckle, your unconscious finish line, spinning you around and dragging you to his car.

The biting cold of metal cutting into your wrists was the first indication that maybe Spencer Reid wasn't as easy to mess with as you'd hoped. He closed the handcuffs around your wrists and handed you into the car as you gaped at him.

“Spencer!”

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“I’m not a criminal, Spencer, let me go.”

“I'll let you go when you prove to me you can behave.”

You pouted as he strapped you into the car and closed the door, walking around to the passenger side before letting himself in.

“What's next? Are you going to gag me?” You scoffed as he turned over the engine and began backing out of the parking lot.

“No. I think you'd enjoy that too much.”

The drive to Spencer's apartment was long and quiet as you sat pouting in the passenger seat. Every few seconds, you twisted and moved your arms, fidgeting left and right so he could see how much the restraints bothered you. Luckily, he'd handcuffed your hands in front of your body, so you still sat somewhat comfortably, but you didn't want him to know that.

He pulled up to the building and turned off the engine, pulling out his keys.

“Let's go,” he said, not even sparing you a look as he climbed out.

“Spencer, I'm handcuffed. How do I even get out?”

“You'll figure it out. You're a smart girl, right?”

He closed his door and began walking, and you quickly fumbled your way out.

“Spencer… Spencer, your neighbours are going to ask questions about you bringing a handcuffed girl into your apartment!” You whispered at him as you paced behind him, somehow running to catch up with his mere walk.

“I don't have neighbours like you, Y/N. They won't notice a thing.”

“Right, okay. And when you murder a dozen people over a six month period, they won't hack the federal government.” You rolled your eyes as he unlocked the door, taking your arm and finally handing you into the apartment.

It was dark and cold, and you shivered, feeling his body pushed in right behind yours, closing the door before he felt around for the light switch.

When the lights turned on, you blinked, adjusting to the light again as he walked you further into the apartment, hands on your hips as you slowly stumbled forward.

“Can you take the handcuffs off now?” You asked, looking over your shoulder at him.

“And let you touch my things? No.”

You shook off his hands and walked further into the room.

“You know I can still mess with your stuff with my hands tied up like this,” you said, walking to the nearest bookshelf.

“Whoops, look at that,” you said, pulling a book off the shelf and letting it fall to the floor between you with a thud.

“Y/N!” He exclaimed, voice pitched up in exasperation.

“Oh, this stack of books on the ground looks well organized. Oopsie!” You acted out tripping over the books, sending them flying in different directions.

“One more time, Y/N, mess with my stuff one more time-”

You didn't hear the words as you pulled yet another book off his shelf and let it tumble to the ground.

He was on you in seconds, lifting your wrists and pinning them to the top shelf, pressing his body against yours as he stretched you out.

You gasped at both the sudden contact and the tight grip he now had on your hands.

“Tell me, do you actually want to be in control, or do you just think you should want to be in control?”

“What's the difference?”

“The difference is how much you enjoy it. I think you're only being a brat to get a rise out of me. You're doing this because there's no one else in your life that will give you exactly what you crave."

"And what would that be?"

"Attention," he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Great, thanks for the therapy. Are you going to show me how much I can enjoy relinquishing control now?”

“Brat,” he spat at you.

“Fed,” you spat back.

“You have a problem with law enforcement?” He asked, his breath hitting your ear as you tried not to shiver again at his touch.

“My neighbour was a serial killer whose day job was police brutality," you said, as if the answer was obvious, but Spencer still stared, waiting for true confirmation.

“Yes I have a problem with law enforcement. What, are you going to spank me?”

His eyes lit up, and you suddenly wondered if you'd made a mistake.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

“N-No.” You stuttered, but he'd already begun moving you over to his couch.

“It was a joke. Spencer, it was a joke, don't-”

You underestimated his strength as he flipped you around and guided you down over his lap. Keeping your hips raised, he used one hand to hold you down while the other pushed up your tight skirt.

“S-Spencer, I really don't think-”

“Then don't think,” he said, bringing his hand down hard on your ass as you cried out in shock and pain.

“Stop thinking. You think too much, let me do it for you.”

With each hit, your shock grew fuzzy, melting into pleasure as you felt wetness pooling between your thighs.

The doctor you thought would be an easy target was not sadistically returning every teasing word back to you with his hands, letting bruises blossom all over your ass as he delivered painfully arousing strikes.

His hand stopped and he rubbed your ass as you twitched at the gentleness, panties sticking to the folds of your cunt as you absent mindedly pushed up into his touch.

“See, now you're listening,” he said, fingers trailing down to touch you over the sopping undergarments.

With two quick fingers, the crotch of your panties peeled away from your skin and he was plunged deep inside you, fingers pressing in as his thumb found its way to your clit.

“Fuck, Spencer-”

“Doctor Reid. You can use my full title now or you don't get to cum.”

“D-Doctor Reid, please!” His thumb rubbed slowly over your clit bit his fingers didn't move as you shuddered and contracted around them.

“Please what?” He asked, voice light as if he wasn't two knuckles deep in you already.

“Please make me cum, Doctor Reid!”

“Good manners,” he said as he finally began pumping his digits in and out of you, spreading your legs wider as you clawed your hands into his couch cushions to ground yourself in the moment. His spare hands left your wrists, and you felt them again, delivering small, almost cute hits to your ass as you twitched around his fingers, shying away from the painful contact.

“That's it, Y/N, let yourself relax,” he whispered, shifting his weight underneath you as you became aware of the tent in his pants.

Your brain was jello as you tried to bounce back on his fingers, chasing your oncoming orgasm.

“Look at you, trying to cum on my hands. You're just an attention-seeking slut, right?”

His fingers continued ppimg as your tongue hung loosely in your mouth.

“Answer me, or I'll leave you here high and dry, Y/N. Tell me you're an attention seeking slut that's been fingering yourself to the thought of this for weeks.”

“I-I'm an a-atten…tion seeking s-slut,” you stifled a moan and bit back tears as he pressed another finger inside of you. “Spencer I can't I need to cum,” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks pathetically.

“Say it.”

“I'm an attention seeking s-slut that's been th-thinking about this-”

“Fingering yourself,” he corrected.

“Fingering myself to the thought of this for w-weeks,” you cried, sniffing now as your thighs shook in anticipation.

“What a nasty little slut,” he said as you finally came, your cum running down his fingers as he kept his hands moving.

Your tears were falling freely now as you bit back little sobs and chokes of emotions, the pleasure from the orgasm almost too much to handle.

Underneath you, Spencer shifted, freeing himself from his position and laying you fully down on the sofa as your legs still shook.

“There once was a doctor called Reid,” he said, unzipping his pants as he took up his place behind you.

They were your words, and your body signalled warnings everywhere as his hands pulled your hips up once more, pulling your knees up too to bend under you, laying you face down ass up.

“Who I simply and truly just need.”

He pulled the panties down to the crook of your knees before leaning down over you so he could deliver the next few lines as whispers into your ear.

“I would lie on my back, And then let him attack, Any inch of my body with his seed.”

A weak moan escaped your lips as he sank his cock inside of you, lips still pressed against your ears.

“I don't want you on your back, though. I much prefer you like this.”

His cock slid out of you and returned with a speed and strength that had your eyes rolling back in your head.

He was thick, maybe a little longer than average, and he filled you perfectly using your cum as lubricant.

“Such a good listener, now, Y/N. I like you like this,” he said with a moan, thrusting hard and deep inside of you.

You didn't talk. You could only drool and moan into his couch as he emptied your brain one thrust at a time.

You didn't think about how he wasn't wearing a condom. You didn't think about how he'd spat your words back at you, ready to fill you with his seed. You just sat in a pool of your own pleasure and let Spencer Reid use your body as you'd been begging him to for weeks.

He raised your hips and gave one last thrust, stilling there for a second as he filled your empty body and mind with his cum and his entire being.

If you weren't obsessed with Doctor Spencer Reid before this, you certainly were now.

He pulled out of you quickly, wiping his cock on your skirt before hurrying off to the bathroom to clean up.

Your brain was still absent when he returned, cleaning you off and finally removing the handcuffs. He removed your clothes, replacing them with his spares as he threw the soiled ones into the wash.

When you regained your wits or what was left of them, you were laid out in his bed, wrapped in a blanket and stuffed into a sweater and sweats, fully covered from head to toe. Spencer was picking up his keys and trying his shoelaces.

“Where are you going?’ You asked sleepily, stumbling to the doorway. Your legs were still shaky, and your movement was already limited. You knew that tomorrow, the use of your limbs would be nonexistent.

“Back to the office. Now that you're not around, maybe I'll be able to get some actual work done.”

“Spencer,” you said, forcing him to turn around to look back at you.

Before he could say anything else, you pressed your lips to his, hot and needy, wrapping your arms around his neck as he kissed back, slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressed you into the wall next to the door.

When you both pulled away for breath, you detangled your limbs, smoothing out his shirt and readjusting his tie.

He looked down at you, waiting for you to say something else as you met his gaze, grinning at him.

“I look forward to working with you, Doctor Reid.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

[rainydayathogwarts]

Watch don't touch - Eddie (bf) x reader x Steve

Behold, the Eddie munson fic that will break the internet... Summary: Eddie loves to show people what they want but can't have. Steve just happens to want you, Eddie's precious girlfriend. Warnings: Semi-public sex, voyeurism, hand job, fingering. 1.7k wc

"Have you guys had sex yet?" The question comes from Steve, pointedly looking at you and Eddie cuddling on the floor, your backs leant on the outside couch in Steve's big backyard, the cool wind causing ripples in the perfectly blue pool. Robin snorts from where she sits on the couch above you, but you're all too drunk to notice that the question might be too personally invasive. "Well... mhm-" You start, not knowing how to give him a proper answer. "Technically," Eddie cuts in "No. But many orgasms have been involved in this relationship." Nancy straightens up from where she's sat facing you guys "What so you're just constantly giving each other head?"

You can almost feel Eddie grin widely, the hand resting on your hip giving it a soft squeeze. "I mean that, amongst other things. But you can't blame me, you'd be in the same position if you got a taste of this pussy." The way Eddie delivers the line almost takes away the sexual nature of his words, but you gasp in shock nonetheless, separating from him slightly to slap him on the arm. Eddie laughs at the attempt to silently scold him, instead leaning down to press his lips to yours in a kiss you immediately reciprocate. You're both too busy exchanging saliva to notice the way both Robin and Steve perk up at Eddie's words, now tempted by you.

They unashamedly stare while you kiss, ignoring the scoff Nancy gives them, with the quiet mutter of "pervs", though it seems she doesn't look away either. The first words to come out of Eddie's mouth when you break the kiss are "You should see how loud she gets when you hit the right spot. I'd let you have a taste, but no one gets to touch my girl." It's the way that Eddie holds eye contact with you even though his words are aimed at Steve that has your juices pooling in your panties and your thighs unconsciously clench, exposed by your short denim skirt just enough to attract the eyes of the onlookers. "Eddie." Your whisper comes out as more of a whine, and you feel your cheeks flush. You turn towards him, both hands coming up to clutch his arm as you dig your face into his shoulder.

One of his hands slithers down to rest in between your thighs, dangerously high to your pussy, already radiating heat from how horny you are. "She gets shy now but later... a whole different person, aren't you sweetheart?" He pecks your lips quickly and you whine louder than you should when he pulls away. "No one gets to touch your girl but it seems you're pretty intent on showing her off." Eddie hums in agreement at Steve's comment, leaning down to pepper kisses on your neck. "Love showing people what they want but can't have." His words come out muffled against your skin and tickle your neck slightly so you squirm away from him, but both of his strong arms wrap around your waist before you can get far and pull you back against his front.

"What do you want Steve?" The loud sigh that comes from him has you both peering up at him curiously, only to find him staring directly at you. "What I can't have." He brings up his can of beer to take a big gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows. You feel the blood rush to your face at his shameless reply, glancing up at Eddie when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "You like that answer sweetheart? King Steve wants you so bad." Impossibly, you feel your face flush even more, shifting to try and hide your face away in your boyfriend's chest.

There's a long pause that follows, in which Eddie and Steve exchange a very specific look. The loud doorbell of Steve's rich parents' house rings, breaking everyone out of their weird trance and Nancy scrambles up to get it, yelling out "Robin that's our ride!" Robin hesitates, taking her time to follow the other girl, and Eddie wastes no time in digging his face in the crook of your neck, immediately nibbling at the soft skin, pressing kisses in between. The sound of the door slamming shut is Eddie's go sign for his hands to start wandering. "Eds" You breathe out, legs unconsciously spreading slightly.

Steve's eyes widen as Eddie reaches for the zipper of your skirt, carefully beginning to tug the denim fabric down your legs. Lifting your hips up, you use your boyfriend's strong torso as support as you kick at your skirt to finally free your legs. Surprisingly, you don't feel at all exposed in front of Steve, rather comfortable in his presence. "Steve?" You enquire, cocking your head to the side at the look of shock on his face, his jaw completely slack. "You okay?" The second his head snaps back up to meet your gaze, he's frantically nodding for you to go on, so Eddie waste no time snaking his fingers down your bright red lace panties.

"So naughty wearing a red thong under such a short skirt. Did you want Steve to see them?" Eddie whispers in your ear, his breath hot on your neck. You moan at his quiet question, your hips involuntarily bucking when he finds your clit, beginning to tease you. "Spread your legs for me baby." He says, this time loud enough for Steve, who's intently watching, to hear the comment. Fixing your gaze on the blushing man, you can't help but stare at the obvious bulge in his pants, licking your lips slightly while obeying your boyfriend's command.

Easily, Eddie manhandles you so that you directly face Steve, allowing him a perfect view of Eddie's hand teasing you under your lace panties. "How about I get rid of this?" He mutters, and your eyes snap wide open at the sound of fabric ripping. "Eddie!" You whine, but you can't stay mad because that's the moment he decides to stop teasing you, instead using your juices as a lubricant to slip two fingers into your hole. You gasp out a moan, throwing your head back onto your boyfriend's shoulder, but it seems for a moment that you don't have his full attention anymore.

Steve looks like a deer caught in headlights when you look up, catching him palming his dick through his thick jeans. "Why don't you give yourself a little more space to breathe, yeah Stevie?" Eddie enjoys teasing him, despite knowing that having you all spread out in front of him without being able to touch you is punishment enough. "Fuck." You mutter, rolling your hips against Eddie's hand to match his slowing rhythm. "Please Stevie." Your plea is enough for Steve to hurriedly unzip his jeans, freeing his hard dick, which slaps the bottom of his abdomen angrily. You try squeezing your legs for more friction but Eddie tuts, using his free hand to pull your left leg as far to the side as he can, finally speeding up when he sees Steve finally grabbing his dick to play with himself properly.

"Can't come until Stevie does, okay sweetheart?" A whine comes out instead of an answer, your eyes shut in satisfaction. It's only when you feel a hand on your face, barely squeezing your cheeks together that you nod, murmuring an "Okay, okay Eds." Your eyes trail to where Steve's hand is quickly moving up and down his cock, then down to where Eddie's hand is vigorously going in and out of you, the palm of his hand making a loud slapping sound every time it hits your clit. You silently pray for Steve to come as fast as he can because with Eddie's pace, there's no way you're gonna hold off.

With a sudden realisation that your boyfriend is the only one not receiving some source of pleasure, you snake a hand between your back and Eddie's stomach, blindly looking for his dick, which you know for certain is painfully hard. "What you looking for sweetheart?" You hear your boyfriend ask you amidst all the pleasure. "Y'r cock." You slur, moaning as he begins rubbing circles on your clit. Steve must be close, you realise, looking back up at the other boy, who jerks himself off, eyes stuck on you and your boyfriend. "God, you're so big Stevie." You praise, grinning when he whines loudly, hips bucking up into his hand.

"Are you gonna cum for me?" You press on, noticing the effect your words have on him. "Cum for me- oh God-" Your words are cut off from your own pleasure, bucking your hips up into Eddie's hand after he sends a harsh slap to your clit with his free hand. He's warning you not to go too far. "Cum for me Stevie." The boy in front of you moans your name repeatedly, and Eddie's hand becomes more aggressive on your pussy, pushing you towards your orgasm, the tight knot in your stomach finally snapping. "Eddie! Oh Eddie, I-fuck!" Eddie's hand pushes your face in his direction, and he presses his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss full of tongue and saliva as he begins to slow his movements on your cunt, riding out your orgasm.

You pant and moan into the kiss, turning to face him completely once he removes his hand from your pussy, wrapping both your arms over his shoulders to try and deepen the kiss. His hands play with your ass, and he's trying to subtly grind you over his dick, the tent in his pants obvious. Finally, you pull away from him, turning to face Steve, who has cum covering the bottom of his shirt as well as his black boxers. He sits there watching you both, trying to catch his breath. When you pull on your skirt, having abandoned the ripped panties, you walk over to Steve, putting a hand on his shoulder for comfort, and you lean in to press a kiss on his cheek. "I think that was the most intense orgasm I've ever had." He admits, smiling when Eddie barks out a laugh.

"Look man, this was really nice, but I'm so hard I can barely move, so I think me and Y/N should go." It's you and Steve's turn to laugh, and you clamber up to your feet, slipping your feet into your sandals before speeding up to catch up with your boyfriend.

#stranger things #stranger things fics #rainydayathogwarts #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #stranger things smut #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #eddie x fem!reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie x steve #eddie x you #steve x eddie #steve x you #steddie

[rafesapologist]

the setback ─ rafe cameron; part nine

summary: it's been two years since your departure from the outer banks and rafe cameron has seemingly convinced himself that he can go on with his life as if you never happened, except now more than ever his addiction is at an all time high. whether he was snorting lines of cocaine at wild parties or drowning himself in alcohol to numb the pain, rafe couldn't escape the memories of you. despite his efforts to bury his feelings, your absence lingered like a shadow, haunting him at every turn. meanwhile, you've been navigating life outside the outer banks, trying to carve out a new path for yourself. but no matter how far you've traveled, the memories of rafe cameron still linger in your heart, leaving you with a sense of unfinished business. as you find yourself facing new challenges and opportunities, you can't help but wonder if fate will eventually bring you back to the place where it all began.

warnings: swearing, angst, topper being topper

author's note: i listened to 'one more hour' by tame impala before writing this so do what you will with that (this is a warning in itself)

As the morning sun filtered through your shut eyelids, you groaned, trying to fend off the burning light that threatened to pull you from the depths of sleep. But despite your efforts, the persistent glow seeped through, coaxing you back to consciousness.

With a reluctant sigh, you finally succumbed to wakefulness, blinking away the haze of sleep as you reached out to check the time on your phone. But just as your fingers brushed against the familiar shape of your device, the door to your room burst open with a bang, startling you from your drowsy reverie.

"Y/n, wake up!" JJ's voice echoed through the room, filled with urgency and impatience. "You've got twenty minutes before your shift at the golf course starts!"

You blinked, momentarily disoriented by the sudden intrusion. "What?" you mumbled, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you tried to process JJ's words.

"Your shift, remember?" JJ reminded you, his tone tinged with exasperation. "Our job at the golf course starts today, first shift remember?"

Realization dawned on you as the fog of sleep lifted from your mind, memories of your earlier conversation with JJ flooding back to you. "Right, my shift," you muttered, scrambling to sit up in bed as you shook off the remnants of sleep.

JJ stood in the doorway, arms crossed impatiently as he waited for you to get moving. "Come on, y/n, chop chop! We don't have all day," he urged, his tone bordering on frantic.

With a resigned sigh, you threw back the covers and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, forcing yourself to push through the grogginess that still clung to your limbs. "Alright, alright, I'm up," you grumbled, shooting JJ a half-hearted glare as you dragged yourself out of bed.

As you splashed cold water on your face, the sensation jolting you into wakefulness, you couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehension gnawing at the edges of your consciousness. It had been a while since you last set foot in the golf course, since you left the familiar shores of the Outer Banks behind. And now, as you prepared to return to your old stomping grounds, a wave of uncertainty washed over you like a tidal surge.

The golf course was a haven for the kooks – the privileged elite who roamed the island with an air of entitlement that bordered on arrogance. It was a world apart from the humble simplicity of life in the Outer Banks, a world where money and status reigned supreme.

You sighed, trying to shake off the lingering doubts and fears that threatened to consume you whole. You couldn't let the expectations of others dictate your life – couldn't let the judgmental glares and whispered gossip of the kooks dictate your worth.

With a determined shake of your head, you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand. You slicked back your hair, tying it into a low ponytail to keep it out of your face as you braced yourself for the day ahead. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, steeling yourself for whatever challenges lay in store.

"It's not a big deal," you whispered to yourself, the words a silent mantra of encouragement. "It's just the golf course."

With a quick brush of your teeth, you left the bathroom feeling slightly more refreshed. Hastily throwing on your tennis skirt and tank-top uniform, you wasted no time in rushing out into the kitchen, eager to ensure that JJ was ready to go.

"Hurry up, JJ!" you called out, your voice echoing through the empty hallway as you searched for your boyfriend.

Just as you were starting to worry, JJ emerged from his room with a sheepish grin, his hair still slightly tousled from sleep. "I'm ready, I'm ready!" he exclaimed, his words punctuated by a hint of breathlessness.

You couldn't help but giggle at his disheveled appearance, shaking your head in amusement at his lack of time management when it came to getting ready. "You really need to work on your timing, JJ," you teased, unable to resist poking fun at him.

JJ rolled his eyes playfully, though there was a hint of sheepishness in his expression. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he admitted with a chuckle, his tone filled with good-natured resignation. "But hey, at least we're not late, right?"

You nodded in agreement, unable to suppress a smile at JJ's infectious enthusiasm. "Yeah, I guess you're right," you replied, feeling a sense of camaraderie with the blond as you prepared to face the day together.

As you followed JJ out of the front door and towards his motorcycle parked in the front yard, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within you. Riding on the back of JJ's motorcycle always brought a rush of adrenaline, a feeling of freedom and exhilaration that you couldn't find anywhere else.

But just as you were about to hop on behind him, JJ stopped you with a gentle hand on your shoulder. Before you could protest, he swiftly placed a helmet over your head, securing it in place with practiced ease.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his gesture, a playful grin tugging at the corners of your lips. JJ had always been one to prioritize safety, even if it meant being a bit overprotective at times. But deep down, you couldn't deny the warmth that flooded your heart at his show of affection and care for you.

"Thanks, Jay," you said, your voice soft with gratitude as you adjusted the helmet, ensuring that it fit snugly over your head.

JJ flashed you a grin in response, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he climbed onto the motorcycle, revving the engine to life. "Safety first, y/n," he teased, his tone lighthearted yet sincere.

You couldn't help but laugh at his antics, feeling a sense of comfort wash over you as you settled onto the back of the motorcycle, wrapping your arms around JJ's waist as he guided the bike onto the road.

As the motorcycle roared to life and JJ guided it onto the road, you couldn't help but feel a surge of nervous energy coursing through your veins. The ride to the golf course seemed to pass in a blur, each moment tinged with a sense of urgency and anticipation that made time fly by in an instant.

You attributed the quickness of the journey to your own anxiety, the nerves coiling tightly in the pit of your stomach as you braced yourself for the day ahead. But despite the whirlwind of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you, there was a small sense of relief in the feeling of the wind against your skin and the warmth of JJ's body pressed close to yours.

As you clung to him, the steady rhythm of the motorcycle beneath you provided a comforting anchor, grounding you in the present moment and soothing the turmoil that churned inside you. With each passing mile, you felt the tension in your muscles begin to ease, replaced by a sense of calm and clarity that you hadn't realized you'd been craving.

And as the golf course loomed into view, the familiar sights and sounds of the bustling establishment filling the air, you couldn't help but feel a sense of disquietude wash over you.

"If you had went any faster you probably would have killed us," you quipped as you removed the bulky helmet off of your head, "I think I have whiplash."

"Yeah, whatever boosts your ego," you replied with a playful shrug, grabbing your tote bag from the bike's satchel. "I just can't believe you managed to get us our jobs back here." Shaking your head, you turned your gaze to the ground beneath you as you and JJ approached the golf course's main entrance gate.

Your heart raced a million beats per minute as you stepped foot onto the lush Bermuda grass that covered the course. Though JJ was likely still talking to you, your attention was elsewhere, your mind consumed by the memories and emotions that flooded back at the familiar sight of the golf course.

With a heavy sigh, you hauled yourself and the looming anxiety into the locker room, determined to put away your bag and clock in for your shift. The familiar routine helped to ground you, providing a sense of structure amidst the chaos of your racing thoughts.

As you stowed your belongings and straightened up your appearance, you couldn't shake the nagging feeling of apprehension that settled like a weight in the pit of your stomach. The prospect of facing whoever would show up during your shift, especially Rafe Cameron, sent a shiver down your spine.

Summoning every ounce of courage you could muster, you pulled up your socks just above your ankles, a small gesture of determination to face whatever challenges lay ahead. With a deep breath to steady your nerves, you squared your shoulders and stepped out onto the course, ready to begin your shift.

Despite the lingering unease that gnawed at the edges of your mind, you pushed aside your fears and focused on the task at hand. You had a job to do, and you were determined to do it to the best of your ability, no matter what – even if it meant coming face to face with Rafe Cameron.

As you ventured out onto the course, the warm rays of the sun danced across your glistening skin, casting a comforting glow over the lush green landscape. The figure-eight pattern of sunlight filtered through the swaying branches of the trees, creating a mesmerizing dance of light and shadow that enveloped you as you went about your duties.

The first half of your shift passed by without much incident, the familiar routine of serving drinks and catering to the whims of the patrons keeping you busy. You dealt with your fair share of middle-aged men who were more interested in flirting with a girl half their age than actually playing golf, but you handled them with ease, deftly navigating their advances with a polite yet firm demeanor.

Despite the occasional flirtatious comment or suggestive wink, you found yourself settling into a rhythm, the tasks at hand becoming second nature as you moved from one group of patrons to the next. It was smooth sailing for the most part, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude as the hours ticked by without any mishaps or run-ins with your past to corrupt your day.

As you were in the midst of refilling the cooler of drinks, lost in your own thoughts, your boss's sudden appearance jolted you back to reality. He approached with purpose, pulling you out of your reverie as he delivered the news of a large group of young men arriving to golf for the next few hours.

The request was simple – ensure their needs were met and provide exceptional service throughout their time at the course. While you obliged with a nod of understanding, internally, you couldn't help but feel a pang of apprehension at the prospect of dealing with a rowdy group of young men.

Though you maintained a professional demeanor, the thought of catering to their demands and managing their potentially unruly behavior wasn't exactly thrilling. Nevertheless, you knew it was all part of the job, and you were determined to fulfill your duties to the best of your ability, regardless of any personal reservations.

With a resigned sigh, you set aside your misgivings and prepared yourself to meet the challenge head-on. After all, you were no stranger to handling difficult patrons, and you were confident in your ability to navigate the situation with grace and professionalism. With a reassuring nod to your boss, you returned to your tasks, steeling yourself for whatever the next few hours might bring.

As you braced yourself for the impending arrival of the group, you couldn't help but feel the need to vent to JJ before diving into what promised to be a challenging few hours. You wandered around the course, scanning the area until you spotted JJ outside, meticulously polishing golf clubs hung up on the racks.

With a sense of determination, you made your way over to him, catching him by surprise with your abrupt greeting. JJ looked up, noting the irritation in your tone, and immediately sensed that something was amiss. He set down the club he was working on and turned his full attention to you, ready to listen.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his brows furrowing with concern as he regarded you.

You sighed, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you prepared to unload your frustrations. "There's a group of kooks coming in soon, and I have a feeling they're going to be a handful," you explained, your voice tinged with exasperation.

JJ's expression hardened at the mention of the kooks, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. He knew all too well the challenges that came with dealing with entitled tourists, especially those who frequented the golf course.

"Well, you know you can handle them," JJ reassured you, his tone firm yet supportive. "And if they give you any trouble, just let me know. I'll take care of it."

As you exchanged a nod and a small smile with JJ, appreciative of his offer of support, the sound of your boss's voice shattered the moment, calling out for you to head over to the other end of the course to greet the arriving group.

"Looks like duty calls," you remarked with a wry grin, casting a glance over your shoulder at JJ.

"Yeah, go handle those kooks. You got this," JJ replied, his tone laced with confidence.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you shot back, "Easy for you to say. You're not the one dealing with them."

With a chuckle, JJ waved you off. "Just remember, if they give you any trouble, you know where to find me." Nodding in agreement, you turned and began to make your way towards the other end of the course, your steps quickening with each stride.

Hurriedly making your way over to the other side of the golf course, you felt a sense of urgency creeping in as you fumbled to find your notepad. The weight of the impending interaction with the large group of customers loomed over you, fueling your determination to be prepared for whatever they might throw your way.

As you approached the group, you plastered on your best fake customer service voice, offering a warm greeting despite the mounting tension in your chest. "Good afternoon, gentlemen! Welcome to the golf course. How can I assist you today?" Your words flowed smoothly, practiced and polished, even as your gaze remained fixated on your skirt pocket, still searching for your notepad. With each passing moment, the pressure mounted, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of frustration at your inability to locate the notepad.

The sound of a male voice broke through the tension, pulling you out of your internal turmoil. "No shot," the voice exclaimed, its familiarity causing your heart to skip a beat. "Y/N, is that you?"

Your head snapped up at the mention of your name, your eyes widening in disbelief as you locked gazes with the source of the voice. And there, standing before you, was none other than Topper. Time seemed to stand still as you took in his appearance, his blond hair tousled by the breeze, his features sharp and familiar.

For a moment, you couldn't believe your eyes. It felt as though you were either dreaming or on the brink of insanity. Topper, of all people, here at the golf course – it was a surreal sight to behold. Your heart raced in your chest as you stood there in stunned silence, unable to form words as you processed the unexpected encounter.

You stumbled over your words, the unexpected encounter catching you off guard. "Hey, Top…" you stammered, your voice trailing off as you struggled to find your footing in the conversation. Your gaze flickered to the ground, a feeble attempt to avoid further interaction with him, but deep down, you knew Topper thrived on drama.

His snarky remark pierced through the awkward silence, poking at your nerves with surgical precision. "I haven't seen your face in a while. How was your little trip to Barbados?" His words hung in the air, laced with an unmistakable edge as he watched you carefully, clearly enjoying the discomfort he was causing.

Your eyes shot up to meet his, a mix of surprise and suspicion flickering in your gaze. How did he know about your trip to Barbados? It was something you hadn't even shared with Rafe, let alone anyone else. The realization sent a shiver down your spine, a nagging sense of unease settling in the pit of your stomach as you grappled with the implications of Topper's words.

Caught off guard by the sudden interruption, you welcomed the distraction with a relieved cough, hoping to diffuse the tension that had been building between you and Topper. But before you could respond, another member of the group chimed in, his words cutting through the air like a knife.

"Wait… Holy shit, are you Rafe's ex?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with implication, as the group turned their attention to you, awaiting your response. You felt a surge of panic rise within you, unsure of how to navigate this unexpected turn of events. The truth threatened to spill from your lips, but you quickly clamped down on the impulse, your mind racing as you searched for a suitable response.

The weight of everyone's attention bore down on you, intensifying the clamminess in your palms and the heat rising to your cheeks. "Um…" you began, your voice wavering slightly as you struggled to find the right words. Your brows furrowed in concentration as you shook your head, attempting to deflect the question with a vague response. "We used to be close is all," you muttered, your tone terse as you kept your reply short and to the point.

You hoped your answer would suffice, deflecting any further inquiries about your relationship with Rafe. But deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air, knowing that the truth was far more complicated than you were willing to admit.

Topper's laughter cut through the air like a knife, his amusement at your response evident in the way his laughter echoed around you. But it was his next words that struck deep, like a blow to the chest.

"That's a funny way of saying you two dated until he found out you were a backstabbing bitch."

Your eyes widened in shock at the venom in his words, feeling the sting of his insult like a physical blow. The tightness in your throat threatened to suffocate you as you struggled to process the weight of his accusation. Flinching at the sincerity in his voice, you realized with a sinking feeling that Rafe must have confided in Topper about the real reason for your breakup all those years ago.

The truth of his words hit you like a ton of bricks, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions that threatened to consume you. Anger, hurt, and betrayal mingled together, leaving you feeling raw and exposed in front of Topper and the rest of the group. You swallowed hard, fighting to keep your composure as you grappled with the devastating revelation that your past had come back to haunt you in the most unexpected of ways.

"What's going on? What are you guys laughing at-" The sound of a familiar voice cut through the laughter like a knife, bringing a sudden halt to the jovial atmosphere. Your heart sank as you recognized the voice, dread pooling in the pit of your stomach. And then, as if on cue, his face came into view, confirming your worst fears.

Rafe.

Your breath caught in your throat as you locked gazes with him, feeling a wave of emotions crash over you like a tidal wave. Guilt, fear, and a deep-seated sense of apprehension washed over you, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable in his presence.

As Rafe's eyes scanned the scene before him, confusion flickering across his features, you braced yourself for the inevitable confrontation that was sure to follow. The weight of his gaze bore down on you, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread gnawing at your insides as you waited for him to speak.

You watched with bated breath as Rafe's shoulders slumped, a flicker of recognition crossing his features as he realized the source of his friends' laughter. The sight of you, on the verge of tears, must have been a stark contrast to the jovial atmosphere he had walked into.

"Rafe! Look who we ran into. Funny, right? Who would've thought she'd show her face here after what she did." Topper's snarl pierced through the tense silence, his gesture pointing towards you as if you were some spectacle to be mocked.

Rafe's expression hardened at Topper's words, a glimmer of warning in his voice as he responded, "Top, knock it off. It's all in the past."

His words were like a lifeline in the midst of the chaos, a reminder that despite the hurt and betrayal of the past, there was still a chance for redemption and forgiveness. You felt a faint flicker of hope stir within you, tempered by the uncertainty of what lay ahead. But for now, in this moment, you clung to Rafe's words as a beacon of hope in the heat of the moment.

Topper's chuckle grated on your nerves, his persistence in dredging up the past only adding fuel to the fire of your emotions. His next words cut through the air like a knife, each syllable laced with venomous intent.

"Oh, c'mon, you hated her guts right after she left. You think I forgot all those times you said she was nothing but a heartless bitch?" Topper's jab landed with precision, causing Rafe's expression to falter, his facade of composure cracking under the weight of his friend's accusations.

Rafe's gaze immediately found yours, searching for any sign of the impact Topper's words had on you. As you met his eyes, he saw the hurt reflected in your expression, a painful reminder of the wounds that had yet to heal. Guilt washed over him like a tidal wave, hitting him with the force of a truck as he realized the depth of the pain he had caused you.

In that moment, the tension between you and Rafe was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the turmoil that lay beneath the surface. And as you held each other's gaze, the weight of the past hung heavy in the air, threatening to suffocate you both with its unresolved emotions.

Fighting back tears, you clenched your jaw, determined to maintain your composure and professionalism in front of the large group of men. With a quick nod, you shielded your emotions from the prying eyes of the boys surrounding you.

"Right. Well, if you guys need anything, I'll be over here. Enjoy your day," you replied stoically, your voice betraying none of the turmoil raging within you. Turning on your heel, you swiftly walked away, each step a silent retreat from the painful confrontation unfolding before you. Reaching a nearby golf cart, you wasted no time in packing up your belongings and drinks, your movements brisk and efficient as you prepared to escape to somewhere far away from the suffocating presence of Rafe and his friends.

"Y/N please, wait."

As you hurriedly packed up your things, a voice called out your name from behind, growing closer with each step. You recognized the voice all too well, and a wave of conflicting emotions washed over you. It was Rafe.

Despite knowing it was him, you refused to turn around and acknowledge him. You couldn't bear to face him after everything that had transpired. You knew he was probably coming over to do damage control for his friend's spitefulness, but after what Topper had said, you had heard enough.

"Go away, Rafe," you muttered, your voice tinged with hurt and frustration as you continued to focus on packing up your belongings. It came out more harshly than you intended, but you couldn't bring yourself to face him, not after the pain his friend's words had caused you.

Despite your request, you knew Rafe well enough to anticipate that he wouldn't simply leave until you faced him. His stubbornness had always been both a blessing and a curse to you.

"Y/N, look, I'm sorry about what happened back there. You know Topper, he just says things," Rafe's voice broke through the tension, his tone laced with regret and sincerity.

"So you weren't calling me a heartless bitch while I was gone?" you spat, the bitterness evident in your words as you crossed your arms defensively, turning to face Rafe abruptly. The hurt and anger simmered beneath the surface, threatening to spill over at any moment.

Rafe fell silent, his blue eyes flickering back and forth between yours as he struggled to find the right words. Eventually, he sighed, a gesture of resignation as he brought a hand to his temple in frustration.

"I'm not going to lie to you and say that I didn't," he began, his voice heavy with remorse, "and I know it was wrong. But I did it because I was hurt and angry at you for leaving, okay? I shouldn't have said it, but I did, and I'm sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean it."

His admission hung in the air, the weight of his words sinking in as you processed his apology. Despite the pain and anger that still lingered within you, you couldn't deny the sincerity in Rafe's voice. He was vulnerable in that moment, his walls crumbling as he laid bare his regrets and shortcomings.

You felt a twinge of sympathy, recognizing the turmoil that must have plagued him in the aftermath of your departure. And as you looked into his eyes, you saw the flicker of remorse mirrored in his gaze, a silent plea for forgiveness that tugged at your heartstrings.

For a moment, you hesitated, unsure of how to respond to his apology. But deep down, you knew that holding onto resentment would only prolong the pain for both of you. With a sigh, you let your arms fall to your sides, the tension easing from your stance as you met Rafe's gaze with a nod of acknowledgment.

You looked up at him, a softness in your gaze as you nodded, taking in his apology and the acceptance of his words. "We can't keep hurting each other like this, Rafe," you admitted, your voice filled with a mixture of weariness and determination.

The weight of the past hung heavy between you, a reminder of the pain and heartache that had plagued your relationship. But in that moment, you felt a glimmer of hope, a longing for a future where the wounds of the past could be healed, and where you and Rafe could find a way to move forward together.

Rafe met your gaze with a solemn nod, his expression reflecting a similar sentiment. "I know, Y/N," he replied softly, his voice tinged with regret, "I don't want to keep making the same mistakes. I want to do better, for both of us." His words resonated with you, stirring a sense of hopefulness within your heart.

As you closed your eyes, a wave of conflicting emotions washed over you, threatening to drown you in their intensity. The weight of your choices hung heavy on your shoulders, each one fraught with its own set of consequences. You couldn't help but feel torn between loyalty to JJ, your best friend, and the lingering feelings you still held for Rafe, your first love.

The thought of hurting either of them filled you with a profound sense of guilt and despair. You wished you could simply escape from it all, to tune out the world and retreat into solitude where the weight of your decisions couldn't reach you. But you knew that running away wasn't an option, not when the consequences of your actions were looming over you like a storm cloud on the horizon.

With a heavy heart, you knew that you had to face the reality of your situation head-on. No matter how much you wished for an easy way out, the truth was that there was no escaping the difficult choices that lay before you. And as you took another deep breath, steeling yourself for the challenges that lay ahead, you knew that you couldn't afford to remain passive any longer. It was time to confront the complexities of your heart and the tangled web of emotions that bound you to both JJ and Rafe, knowing that the path forward would be anything but easy.

"I still have things to figure out for now, Rafe," you confessed, your voice laced with uncertainty, "and I hope that you can be okay with that until I'm able to do so. I just... I don't want to hurt anyone else more than I've already done."

Rafe's gaze softened, his eyes reflecting a deep understanding of your dilemma. "I understand, Y/N," he replied gently, his voice a soothing presence amidst the turmoil of your emotions, "I'll respect your need for time and space. Just... know that I'll be here, whenever you're ready."

You offered him a small, grateful smile, the weight of your indecision still heavy on your heart. "Thank you, Rafe," you murmured, hoping that he could sense the depth of your gratitude and the complexity of your emotions.

As you drove across the expansive golf course, the hum of the cart's engine providing a steady backdrop to your turbulent thoughts, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease settle over you. The weight of the choices you faced seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment, threatening to crush you beneath their burden.

You hated the complexity of the situation, the tangled web of emotions that bound you to both JJ and Rafe. It felt like no matter which path you chose, someone would end up hurt, and the thought weighed heavily on your conscience.

Memories of your past with Rafe flashed through your mind, each one a painful reminder of the bond you once shared and the feelings that still lingered beneath the surface. Despite your efforts to move on, it seemed that the past had a way of catching up to you, refusing to let you forget the love you once knew.

And yet, as you navigated the winding paths of the golf course, you knew that you couldn't afford to dwell on the past. The present demanded your attention, and the future loomed uncertain and fraught with challenges.

You spotted JJ outside the lobby building, his expression grave as he motioned for you to come over. Your heart sank as you approached, already bracing yourself for bad news.

"What's going on, Jay?" you asked, your voice tinged with worry as you crossed your arms, waiting for his response.

"Okay, so get this. Pope just called and told me they found out that Ward is trying to track John B before he can expose all of Ward's fucked up lies. Apparently, he has a hit out on him," JJ explained urgently, his words hitting you like a punch to the gut.

Your eyes widened in horror, your arms falling to your sides as you processed the gravity of the situation. The thought of John B being in danger sent a surge of fear coursing through your veins.

"Shit," you breathed, your mind racing as you tried to comprehend the direness of the situation. "We have to do something, Jay. We can't just sit back and let Ward get away with this."

JJ fell silent for a moment, his expression telling you he was hesitant to say whatever it was that he wanted to tell you. You cocked your eyebrow, waiting for him to speak but to no avail.

"Well, what is it JJ?"

"Look, I know it's a lot to ask," JJ began, his tone hesitant as he gauged your reaction. "But we really need you to spy on Rafe again. It's the only way we can find out what Ward's next move is."

You felt a surge of confliction, the memories of your previous attempts to spy on Rafe flooding back with a pang of guilt. "Spy on Rafe?" you repeated, your voice wavering with uncertainty as you processed JJ's request.

"Yeah," JJ confirmed with a solemn nod, his expression grave. "I know it's asking a lot, but we need to know what Ward's planning. Rafe might have some insight that could help us."

Your heart sank at the thought of betraying Rafe's trust once again, but you couldn't deny the urgency of the situation. "But JJ, you know what happened last time I tried to spy on him," you reminded him, your voice tinged with apprehension.

JJ's gaze softened with understanding, his tone gentle as he replied, "I know, Y/N. I'm not asking you to do this lightly. But right now, we need all the information we can get if we're going to take down Ward and keep John B safe."

You shook your head, your gaze falling to the floor, overwhelmed by JJ's request. "JJ, this is a lot to ask... I don't know if I can do this again. I feel like I'm just hurting him all over again."

"Why does it matter if he's hurt? He's Rafe Cameron, he doesn't deserve your pity," JJ countered, his voice tinged with frustration.

You looked up at JJ, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. "I know he's made mistakes, but he's still a person, JJ. I can't just use him like some pawn in a game," you insisted, your voice tinged with anguish.

"But this isn't about him, Y/N. It's about taking down Ward and keeping John B safe," JJ argued, his tone firm.

You sighed heavily, torn between loyalty to your friends and your own moral compass. "I need some time to think about it, JJ. This isn't a decision I can make lightly," you replied, your voice wavering with uncertainty.

JJ folded his arms, frustration evident on his face. "Well, let me know when you make your decision, although I thought it should be pretty easy considering John B is your friend, too," he stated firmly, his tone laced with disappointment.

You flinched at JJ's words, feeling the weight of his expectations bearing down on you. "I know, JJ. I'll... I'll figure it out," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, unable to meet his gaze.

With that, JJ nodded stoically and turned back around to go into the building, leaving you standing there with the weight of your decision heavy on your shoulders. You took a deep breath, trying to steel yourself against the conflicting emotions swirling inside you. The gravity of the situation pressed down on you, leaving you feeling torn between loyalty to your friend and the potential consequences of betraying someone you cared about.

As you stood there, lost in your thoughts, the world seemed to blur around you, the only sound echoing in your ears being the tumultuous beating of your own heart. With each passing moment, the weight of the choice you had to make grew heavier, threatening to crush you under its burden.

But despite the overwhelming uncertainty that loomed over you, one thing remained clear – whatever decision you made would have far-reaching consequences, forever altering the course of your relationships and the trajectory of your life. And as you grappled with the weight of your choices, you couldn't help but wonder if there was any path forward that wouldn't leave you broken and alone in the end.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

taglist: @rrosiitas, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday, @haroldpotterson, @i-love-rafe, @ellesalazar, @calmoistorm, @abundantxadorations, @fals3-g0d, @gillybear17, @oiiviagrande, @hockeybabe87,

@augustlikesdeath, @wpdailyminimeta, @palmwinemami, @loxleys-blog, @ikisscline, @flyestvenustrap, @ilovesteveharrngton, @ijustwanttoreadlols, @fastlovela, @wickedlovely121, @fals3-g0d, @givemylovetoall, @lucfics, @briefwinnerpersonaturtle, @maybankslover, @peachy4u2, @hockeybabe87, @yeosxxx, @zizouu23, @h34rtsformilli, @maybankslover, @yawnzshit, @rubixgsworld, @tsumudoll

#rafe cameron #drew starkey #rafe cameron x reader #obx #outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe angst #rafe cameron imagine #rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader

[disco-troy]

New job for Dick Grayson: private investigator, only its set at the same time that Riddler was also a PI and they fight over clients

Cass with a mustache is Dick’s secretary and Jason with a fake beard is Eddie’s. They are both horrible at their jobs.

#someone walks in for a meeting with Dick: #your secratray said to "just come in whever since you don't have a life anwyays so I'm here i guess? #no one else will work for them for many reasons #emotional and physical damages for one #their offices keep getting destroyed #cass thinks its a great way to make money #shes not sure what shes gonna do with the money #but now she can tell babs she has a job so take that #Jason was getting getting another midlife crisis because both of his older siblings #had jobs so he has to scramble to get one #hes working on his book in the corner #Eddie knows jason was red hood but like also doesnt want to ask #jason denies it but he also will get dressed in front of him so #dick grayson #nightwing #cassandra cain #batgirl #jason todd #red hood #black bat #riddler #edward nigma

[birdmenanime]

Can you believe that the 2nd most important person to the story BARELY had ANY screen time of his blackout. WE SAW HIS BLACKOUT 3 WHOLE TIMES. NOT ENOUGH FOR ME TO DISSECT HIS GAY TRAUMATIZED BRAIN!

#pacing around the room crawling on all fours admiring the yellow wallpaper #we know it’s a bug we know his parents were entemologists we KNOW #that his parents jobs uprooted him from a young age and never had him learn social skills we KNOW that the job in south america #cost them their lives and caused Takayama to become what he is and we KNOW that certain bugs can fly and #that bugs are misunderstood. most people see bugs and freak out and you have to be patient and learn to like them #Takayamas blackouts always take up space and are ‘unsightly’ or mutated in some way #they’re impulsive and headstrong and lean with force and logic not heart #one of the bugs chanted ‘kill’ like it was the only word it knew. all Takayama ever did was fight and kill the trauma inside of him #and NEVER addressed it. kill the emotions kill the trauma kill the guilt #the second blackout was a mosquito a creature that takes blood and can cause malaria #the eyes VERY IMPORTANT were the same eye rings as to which seraphs get #tosses everything on the floor and madly trying to scramble up a connection #anyways. Takayama has done everything he could intentionally or not to kill anything human within him. he doesn’t know what hes doing or #who or what he is and it’s scary. he fails to save people over and over and he thinks he’s unsalvagable. #the real reason he reached out to the bird club was because he was lonely. so crushingly lonely. he can fight and kick the trauma #all he wants but at the end of the day hes the same kid he was the day his parents died and he became a seraphim #and maybe that’s why the third blackout is when he was about to finally meet eva. she is the only proof that he is real #eva is the only proof that takayama was once a kid. the only reminder #eva and Takayama’s relationship is weird but to me it I would say to Takayama Eva is like a mother to him #and eva used him from the start. #idk Takayama makes me lose my mind. have u ever considered how takayama #views himself as a bug. and the fact that bugs have never bothered karasuma #karasuma knows what Takayama is like but Karasuma has seen all of Takayama and still loves him #anyways how are YOU guys I wrote this while in horrible stomach pain. #birdmen #takayama sou

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru

TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere, stalking, death of nameless character

gn reader

Thinking about Gojo bumping into you on his way to buy sweets and getting mortified when sensing how you pass through his infinity like it isn’t even there – touching him hands-first like it’s only normal.

And the way you look at him, all spluttering apologies – without a single clue – how you quickly walk away like it was no bigger deal than mildly embarrassing.

And he’s left there, stunned and stuck to the ground he stood on, suddenly feeling stripped naked.

He had to follow you – naturally. Can’t let the biggest threat to his life just walk around unsupervised. Obviously, he has to keep tabs on you now – every single day – your constant whereabouts, where you work and study and loiter and live, and who you communicate with.

It’s all platonic at first – nothing romantic. He’s stalking you, but it’s for safety reasons. There’s no telling who’d potentially find out about your dormant technique and use it against him.

But keeping his six eyes on you every hour he could spare all day and night of every week, eventually, he can't stop himself from starting to see you as something more than just a threat…

He's not blind to it either – he feels the change in the pit of his stomach – in his heart – in his balls even.

He blushes when you take your clothes off to go shower – needs to swallow thickly, watching you walk about your apartment dressed only in undies and a comfy T – smiles when seeing you dance around to music he can’t hear from where he’s perched on the rooftop on the neighboring building – tugs on his cock to the sight of you touching yourself, trying to time his climax to yours.

He’s not watching you for the right reasons anymore… he knows that, but he just can’t seem to stop.

You’re so normal, he’s obsessed with you. So addictive in your mundane routines. Messy notes, chewing your pen when scrambling for an exam – making another easy-fix dinner – picking up the same hoodie from the floor before throwing yourself out the door to go work your minimum wage job – coming home late only to collapse on the sofa with a random episode of some dumb sitcom playing on the TV.

He wants to be your boyfriend – imagines himself going to your school and sitting next to you in the lecture hall, studying together at cafes, watching movies in bed, wearing his varsity jacket, squeezing your ass as you ride him in someone else's bedroom at a party that got way out of hand, cumming on your face and apologizing for it when you give him head on his birthday.

He’s teetering on thirty and has killed more than he can count – both curses and humans – and here he is – fantasizing about having a college sweetheart who doesn’t even know his name…

It would be healthy for him to stop – he knows that, knows it’s becoming dangerous – but he thinks it might be too late now – all he does is try and get closer…

He thinks about enrolling in one of your classes, thinks about moving into your apartment complex, and then he thinks about taking you.

He’s watching you have a nightcap with a boy he thinks he recognizes from your class – you’re both drunk and it’s obvious where things are going...

There’s a devil and an angel sitting on his shoulders, whispering in his ear – but he can't tell which one’s which anymore. One is telling him to leave – to allow you some privacy... but the other tells him to barge in – to crash through the window and rip the guy’s head off by the scruff of his chin.

There’d be blood on his hands, but at least he’d finally be able to touch you…

He glues his hands together – tries thinking clearly – but closing his eyes only results in seeing you gasping and moaning while getting fucked by someone else and it makes him feel like he’s about to lose his shit.

He performs the rituals with his fingers without even noticing – making the hand gestures – his breathing thick before he mouths the words beneath his breath. “Infinite Void…”

You don’t know what’s happening – you’re drunk and unsure if you should be dialing nine-one-one or an ambulance. The guy you’re with is having a seizure, frothing at the mouth and spasming on the floor until suddenly falling limp.

Your breathing is sharp. You think he’s dead. You throw up. The shock makes the tears stop for a brief moment before you start hyperventilating, crying harder.

You’re shaking, and it’s hard holding the phone still – let alone dial any number. Before you can, there’s a knock on the door.

You’re not thinking clearly, naked and wrapped in just a thin sheet as you rush to greet the sound. You don’t recognize the man, but for some reason, you’re spilling your guts to him anyway – rambling about the dead guy in your bedroom.

You’re panicked, and it only takes a curt minute before you’re throwing yourself at him – hugging him tightly – your hands ice-cold on his neck, skin-to-skin without any respect to his infinity – latching onto him for dear life as if you know exactly who he is and how much he loves you.

But of course, you don’t...

You’re just in shock – having just witnessed a boy die. Completely clueless as to how the man you were clinging to so desperately was going to take you back into that bedroom where that boy was lying and do to you what he was going to do before he killed him.

#yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #jjk gojo #yandere gojo x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo #yandere satoru gojo #jjk smut #jujustu kaisen headcanons #gojo headcanons

[pomefioredove]

now I'm actually invested in this idea. maybe I'll write a full length fic someday idk... for now I have short hcs

summary: crowley decides to "give away" yuu to the highest "donation" for financial reasons type of post: headcanons characters: all nrc students additional info: can be read as platonic or romantic, except malleus is pretty romantic, second person pov, yuu is gender neutral, maybe a little ooc I wrote this as soon as I got up

crowley has had his fair share of "what the fuck" moments from you but this was really taking the cake

he acts so... casual about it?

swaggers into ramshackle one morning and says times are tough and your personal expenses are straining the budget so he's decided to "put you in someone else's care"

"The screening process will be vigorous to make sure you end up in good hands!" like you're a cat or something "Your expenses will be covered and you'll have somewhere to go during break!"

okay great. pretty obvious you have no say in this, so you don't even argue. what's the worst that could happen?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Epel find you the next day to say they're pooling their money to buy you

"To what?"

Epel shrugs. "Oh, well Crowley said we need to offer a donation to prove we're capable of supporting you..."

(you think that if not for the laws of this land you would have slaughtered that old fart)

Jack goes on a really long tirade about how shady and underhanded this is, making sure to reaffirm that he believes you should be free to make your own choices

"So you'll let me go once you get me?"

"Uhhh..."

Ace thinks once they buy you you'll have no choice but to do all of his homework for him

Deuce says that's not really how it works- and even if he tried, Riddle would kill him

(they've already gone over this twice before finding you)

Epel happily volunteers to take you home with him over breaks, probably the only positive in this mess

even if he thinks the whole thing is kind of funny

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

incapable of keeping his mouth shut, Ace accidentally spills the plan to Riddle, who is understandably aghast

you can't just give away a person under your care like a toy!

of all the irresponsible things...

of course, he'll have to put up his offer, too

purely for your sake! with a nicer room and a brand new copy of the dorm rules, maybe you'll stop getting yourself into trouble

he's got some family money (doctors, naturally) and considers this a worthwhile purchase, for his sanity and yours

of course, Trey and Cater overhear and may or may not be pooling their own cash for a chance, too

going behind Riddle's back on this is a risky venture, but hey, someone's gotta be on your side, here, right?

I mean, between a bunch of sixteen year old boys, the housewarden, and them, who would you choose?

actually don't answer that

...not that it's much of a secret, anyway. Cater's already got their gofundme equivalent link in bio

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona initially plans to have you become a live-in lackey like Ruggie

but then he really starts thinking- and, hey, the possibilities are endless, right?

for one, you'd make a really good pillow

he might have to kick Grim out for your full attention, but you could learn to live with that

and malleus would hate it

...that's reason enough for him

plus, he's got money to burn, so why not?

either way, he sets his bid at a reasonable (maybe too confident) price and sits back to watch the chaos unfold as everyone scrambles for a piece of the pie

news travels fast around school, after all

then Ruggie finds out that you could dethrone him as Leona's #2 and is understandably a little annoyed

that's his cushy post-grad job gig, thank you! he's worked hard for that!

besides, why should Leona get to hoard you? the guy can barely take care of himself!

so, Ruggie ends up outsourcing to a few dozen classmates for the necessary funds at a steep I-owe-you price

he's gonna be eating nothing but dandelions for a while...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

now, Azul is annoyed

once the news goes school-wide, it's all anyone can talk about

talk about good marketing...

why didn't he think of such a brilliant scam? he could have negotiated with Crowley to have a café brand deal tie-in!

of course, he's already set his bid, with Jade and Floyd offering to pitch in as necessary

it's a risky investment, sure, but a worthwhile one

Azul tells everyone that with the prefect's "obvious" popularity, having them at the café a few nights a week would drive sales through the roof

though that's really just what he says to shirk suspicion

a likely excuse coming from him, though, really, it would just be nice having you around

and if not for his own affections, Floyd's incessant begging and Jade's subtly manipulative comments about "how nice" it would be having a new face around would be enough for him to cave eventually

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"Kalim, no," is the first thing that Jamil says

"I strongly advise against this. It's another one of Crowley's silly scams and you could end up a target bec- are you even listening?"

hint: he is not

the second Kalim found out that he could get to take in his favorite magicless student like one of his treasures, he was all over it

(AKA infinite sleepovers)

and for what? a little optional donation to prove he's got the funds? he's got cash to spare!

he's already got your new room in Scarabia set up before he even puts his bid in

right next to his of course :)

and despite what Jamil insists, he himself might be working behind the curtain just a little to ensure he's the one who ends up with you

after all, why should Kalim get everything? this might be a valuable learning opportunity for him

You don't always get what you want

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

as much as Epel tries to keep the rest of his dorm from finding out, it's inevitable

he's actually a little surprised that the news didn't get to Vil sooner

with Rook around campus, surely he must have said something...

when Vil does find out, though, he just sighs

oh, of course. what next, will everyone meet each other in the arena and fight to the death over the prefect?

of all the silly, immature things...

oh? what's that? he's bidding anyway? of course he is, silly potato. he can't have some unwashed miscreant making you sleep on polyester bedding

(really, he's the only person on campus worthy of your time)

Rook has also been mysteriously absent from the dorm lately, though his initials on a poem and a strangely large sum of money end up in the donation pile

but really, that could be anyone... Rook would never dare betray Vil again, right?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ortho finds out directly from the other first years and sends Idia the details immediately

with a little note of encouragement, of course: "could be excellent for improving your social skills!"

Idia understandably freaks out

"WTF!!!! nooo way! this is a person, not a chatbot we're talking about here! I can barely keep virtual pets alive!!!!"

(liar)

(...but this is still different)

the conversation ends there, but semi-anonymous bid from someone named "gloomurai" gets cashapp'd directly to crowley

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

everyone in the room immediately turns to Malleus

"For the record, I think it's wrong to be bargaining over a human being," Silver says first. "But if anyone could handle it with grace, it's you."

Lilia laughs. "Oh, you're just saying that because you like the prefect so much!"

"Father, you're the one who likes the prefect so much,"

"Oh, right! carry on then. After all, I'm sure we could share,"

Sebek is the only one relatively against the idea, though Lilia luckily manages to get him to lower his voice after his third speech about how you aren't good enough for his liege

Malleus is rather quiet through the whole evening, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with any of the points made

he disappears for a short while, and when he comes back he seems a little more confident

though, of course, he goes to you first

seeing him at Ramshackle in the middle of the night is a familiar and welcoming sight after all of the chaos of your week

and he's in a great mood!

"Child of man! I've come with news," he says. "I have heard of your predicament and have come up with a solution!"

you immediately sulk. "Oh, no. You know I think this whole thing is terrible, right?"

"Yes, Silver mentioned you might not like the idea of being bought and sold like a trinket. But worry not, I do not plan on paying for you in money,"

you pause, at a loss for words, and then tentatively continue. "You're not...?"

"Of course not. What a primitive idea, I was baffled to hear it myself. My proposal will be more traditional: a modest sum of treasure, and a generous amount of livestock and the finest crop Briar Valley can offer,"

certainly he's not this naive, you think

"You really think Crowley is going to accept that over money? I'm pretty sure Kalim just bid away an entire country's worth,"

he laughs. "You speak as if this is some kind of business deal! I'm quite confident that my dowry will be best,"

huh. that was a strange way of putting it

but then again, you still didn't really understand how things work here, so you go along with it

and you allow yourself to relax. he seems confident in his offer, and he doesn't even see you as some kind of prize to win!

"Oh, well, alright. Thanks! I'm glad you're on it,"

he smiles. "Rest assured, child of man, you're in good hands. My dowry will far outshine the others, and the wedding will be even better,"

"I was honestly getting a little nervous for a momen- wait- wedding!?"

#twst x reader #shall I tag everyone even though this is pretty short... idk might as well #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #jack howl x reader #epel felmier x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #floyd leech x reader #jade leech x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt x reader #idia shroud x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #malleus draconia x reader #idk if I should tag silver and sebek they're barely in it 😔 #that's enough tags anyway

[sociorafe]

CAUGHT RED HANDED — jj.maybank

pairing: jj maybank & fem!reader

summary: keeping your relationship a secret has been pretty easy so far, but when the both of you get carried away one day, it’s hard to defend yourselves when you get caught by fellow pogues.

warnings: making out, marking, dry humping

author’s note: requested by anon, thank you, i had fun writing this! also i just realised that my blog’s aesthetic is rafe and yet somehow i have more jj content lol. oh well. i hope you guys enjoy <3 feedback is appreciated!

taglist: @rafetopia @rvfecamerons @drudyslut @drewstarkeyslut

“Y’know,” you mumble out breathlessly as JJ sucks on the soft skin of your neck. “They could come back any minute.”

You feel JJ smile into his wet kisses, your hands threading into his blonde hair, gently tugging at the roots when he sucks on your sweet spot. He grumbles against your neck.

“What?” You ask, eyes fluttering closed as his lips begin sucking and teeth nibbling. You’re 100% positive that he’ll leave marks and you’re not sure how you’ll explain it to the others. Bad mosquito bite? Maybe a bad reaction to some new lotion? Please, since when did you buy new lotion?

“Jay…” you shift in his lap, your barely covered core rubbing ever so lightly against his crotch. You can feel him through his cargo shorts… so, so, so big. “S-stop. You gotta-gotta stop. Jay, baby. I can’t have you mark me up.”

JJ pulls away with a pop! from your neck. His eyes sparkle as he stares at his handy-work. “And why not? I think I did a pretty good job.”

You roll your eyes, hands sliding out from his hair to rest behind his bare shoulders— his t-shirt thrown somewhere behind you. “You do realise who we’re friends with, right? They literally came up with ‘Pogues don’t mack on other Pogues’. We’re literally breaking that rule and you’re making it obvious.”

JJ hums in thought, “What they won’t know won’t hurt them.”

You suppose he’s right, but still… the others could be back at any moment. They only went out to get some beer and food— a twenty minute errand at the most.

The angel on your shoulder tells you to call it quits before you get caught, but the devil is speaking louder; a few more minutes won’t hurt, in fact, you’ll enjoy this moment a lot more if you kept going.

“Come on,” JJ slides his hands to your hips, gently squeezing the supple flesh as his fingers toy with the waistband of your lacy underwear. “They’ll be arguing over what food to buy anyway, we have plenty of time.”

And with that, it seems he’s convinced you to keep going.

JJ smiles up at you before capturing your lips against his. You turn your head slightly to deepen the kiss and a rogue moan echoes in your throat as you feel his cock twitch beneath you. It feels like torture not having him inside you, so the next best thing is to grind against him until your body feels like putty.

Your hips move slowly at first, feeling the thickness of him through his shorts drives you crazy and you open your mouth slightly to allow JJ to slide his tongue in. You drop a hand from his shoulder to trail down his chest and torso, your own stomach tensing when you feel the hard muscles underneath your fingertips.

JJ pulls away briefly, allowing the two of you to catch your breath; his lips turning red from the force of his kisses.

“Look at you, baby.” He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip as he watches you grind against his erection. It takes everything in him not to flip you over and make you cry out his name. “Could watch you all day—“

His words get cut off by a loud slam.

You stop your movements abruptly, heart hammering in your chest. “What was that?”

Another loud slam and muffled voices now reach your ears. “Fuck! They’re back!” You push off JJ in lightning speed, your head snapping in every direction to find your shorts. “Where the fuck are my shorts?!”

JJ scrambles up from the sofa, diving towards his strewn t-shirt lying on the floor near your feet. His eyes practically bulge out of his head as he tries and helps you find your shorts but for some fucking reason they’ve vanished.

“Now is not the time for things to go missing. Where are they?” You hiss at him. Your heart is beating erratically in your chest.

“I don’t know!” JJ is picking cushions up, books up, pieces of furniture and your shorts are still nowhere to be found. “Look, hey. Just sit on the sofa, put a pillow on your lap and pretend to look comfy. I’ll sit over here and just… sit.”

You freak out at his idea but drop down on the sofa when several footsteps sound from down the hall.

“Hey, we got so much food. Kie and John B didn’t know what to get so… uhhh what’s going on?” Pope looks between you and JJ, one hand on the back of the sofa as he studies the two of you.

Sarah moves into the room next, her eyes landing on your face before swivelling to JJ’s and squinting at his hair. “What’s up with your hair, JJ?”

JJ swipes at his hair until he thinks it looks normal again. It does not.

John B and Kie file in next, the bag of food drops from Kie’s hand and she tries not to laugh. Whereas John B is holding a box crate of beer and if he dares to drop it you know you’ll get the blame for causing a distraction.

“What the hell did you two do?” Kie always figures things out first. “And don’t lie. It’s obvious you two did something. Spill.”

You look over at JJ and he shakes his head. “Nothing. We were just talking the whole time you guys were out.”

You wince at his poor excuse but from the way Pope shrugs his shoulders you think you’ve gotten away with it.

“Yeah, I’m not buying that.” Sarah says, arms folding over her chest. “I mean, if you two were just talking, then why is JJ’s shirt inside out and Y/N, why are your shorts hanging off the back of the couch?”

“Oh.” Is all you have to say. Well. That’s that then. Relationship exposed or whatever.

“Yeah, I’m not dealing with this.” John B turns on his heels and walks back outside with the beer, Pope just nods and follows him. Kie and Sarah give each other a knowing look.

“Pogues don’t mack on other pogues, remember?” Kie says, her head tilting at you but her smile says she’s not even remotely bothered. “Just don’t do it on the sofa next time, we gotta sit there.”

You and JJ nod your heads so quickly you feel as if they’re going to fall off. You both watch Kie leave the room, Sarah trailing behind so slowly but stops just before she’s out of sight. She leans against the wall and points to your neck, “Nice work, JJ, but Y/N you got to cover that up.” Her voice is soft, low, almost as if she doesn’t want the others hearing so you don’t get even more embarrassed. “I’ve got some makeup in John B’s room, use some of that.”

You nod your head, mouthing thank you. Once she’s gone back outside, you stand from the sofa and make your way over to JJ. You slap him on the back of his head. “Ow! What was that for?” He’s rubbing the spot you hit him on.

You stalk out of the room. “That’s for marking me up, dingbat.”

“I love you, though!” He calls from the living room.

“Yeah whatever.” You shout back from John B’s room. “I love you, too.”

Copyright to @sociorafe 2023.

#jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #jj obx imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj obx #jj outer banks #outer banks jj #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #outer banks smut #obx fic #obx #outer banks #rudy pankow #obx x reader #jj obx fic #obx smut

[evie-sturns]

Right here-Chris Sturniolo

summary: chris is your best friend, he has been for a couple years. one night you and chris are laying on his bed talking about anything and everything, somehow the conversation leads to sex, where you tell him a confession, leading to him taking your virginity.

contains: smut, fluff, swearing, aftercare, chris talking u through it, virgin!reader.

-----------------┌─── ∘°❉°∘ ───┐-----------——

9:43pm

chris and I have been laying on his bed together, staring at the ceiling as the conversation rapidly switches between topics.

"remember like the first time we met, how it took us a solid hour to start up a real conversation" chris laughs,

"i was working chris! i was like 16 i wasnt gonna risk my job to leave from behind the counter to talk to you" i nudge him with a grin.

"working at topgolf.." he teases back, "i mean i only knew nick from middle school, but i did serve your food and we spoke!" i say defensivley.

chris shakes his head, rubbing his eyes before he adjusts his chain which hangs around his neck.

"what was...." chris starts, thinking about what to say next. i tilt my head on the pillow to look over at him.

"your worst sex experience." chris asks casually with a stupid smile on his face,

my heart sinks slightly, truthfully im a virgin, and i'm almost 21. chris has no idea about this.

a silence fills the room, i clear my throat "well- uh"

"oh my god how bad was it" chris laughs.

i feel tears somehow prickle at the corner of my eyes, it doesn't bother me that much.

a small laugh exits my mouth, chris looks over at me "are you okay-?" chris says with a small laugh.

"yes! yes i'm good-" i say, sitting up and crossing my legs.

"chris can I tell you something" i sigh, wiping my face as a nervous smile forms.

"anything- hey you know about that time at graduation when i went the wrong way when i went up on stage to get my fuckin' paper thing." he yaps,

"oh my god and they had to guide you in the right direction" i scoff back.

"stopp" chris groans, sitting up and pushing me over onto my side, "now speak"

"this is like- the wrong time but.." i start,

"i've never done like anythingg.." i say, dragging out 'anything'

chris goes silent,

"like you've never fucked-" he says, but i cut him off "yeah."

he nods understandably, "thats okay!" chris chirps. "are you planning to loose it or not?" chris asks

"well, i've always wanted to its just like i'm worried that i wont fully trust the person who i hook up, and it'll just be a desperation thing- i don't know though." i say, opening up to him

"yeah, that makes sense." chris nods.

"but i really want to, like its always on my mind" i groan, flopping my head back down onto the pillow.

"i mean we could fuck" chris says with a shrug, i laugh it off,

he's clearly joking...?

"no like honestly think about, i'm horny 24/7, your wanting to loose your virginity, and you trust me i think?" he continues rambling with a cheeky smile painted on his face.

chris says stuff, a lot of stuff, and i'd say 90% of it is unserious

"chris... stop fucking around this is a serious topic" i scoff.

"no, like actually- deadass." chris says, slightly more nervous than earlier.

i go silent, sitting up in bed and looking down at him "yeah?" i ask quietly, chris sits up aswell "i can't tell if you're being serious chris"

he grabs my jaw, "i'm serious.." chris leans closer to me, my heart thumps aggressively as i stare at the brunette's lips, which are practically begging to be kissed.

chris's hand falls slowly from my jaw to my hand, "like 100% serious right?" i ask again, my mind now not being able to comprehend that chris could be inside me in a matter of minute.

"100%." he says,

i rip my white tank top off from over my head, chris scrambles to remove his shirt, i pause for a second as chris's eyes lay over my exposed chest.

"chris- I don't know what i'm doing this is gonna be so embarrasing for me" i start, but chris interuppts me

"shh- sh." he shushes me, grabbing my hand again, "do you want me to talk you through it?"

i nod, playing with chris's long fingers as an anxiety reaction, "can you tell me with your words what you want please?"

with a wobbling breath i start, "please talk me through it, i- uh.. i need you? please."

chris nods, "oh shit wait,yeah- if you want i'll go get nick and matt out of the house, they won't think we're doing anything 'cause they know that i don't bring girls over to fuck,- and they wouldn't think we'd do shit together"

i shake my head 'yes' rapidly, "thank you."

chris stands up off the bed, throwing on his shirt and unlocking his door, he walks out of the door, closing it behind him as i lay back in his bed,

anxiety rushes through my veins, my bare back presses against the soft plush of his mattress that i have been so used to for so many years, where chris told me all about his first hookup at 16, now hes gonna be mine on this same bed.

i hear his distant chatter with matt, "hey we need some shit from target from tomorrow, take nick with ya hes probably interested in childrens toys" he says with a laugh before matt agrees,

chris walks back into the room a minute or two later, his cheeks instantly turning maroon again as he says me laying half naked on his bed, he takes a deep breath "matt and nick are going to target in a few, you okay?" chris asks, discarding his shirt to the side of the room again.

"yeah! i'm just nervous." i laugh slightly,

"about what?" he questions, flopping down on the bed next to me,

"i just feel like it's gonna hurt- or i mean.. i don't want this to change things between us, 'ya know?" i sigh.

i hear matts van pull out of the driveway, the small pebbles crunching under his tires.

"it won't hurt." chris says, his voice serious, yet reassuring.

chris sits up off the bed, he turns around to face me. i sit up aswell, i feel chris's large hands wrap around my waist, pulling me closer to him on the edge of the bed.

"i'm going to take these off, yeah?" chris says, his fingers lingering on the waistband of my shorts.

"yeah." i smile up at him, laying back on the bed. chris pulls my sweat shorts and panties down to my ankles in one yank, his eyes widening as i feel his gaze drawn between my thighs.

"so perfect," chris says, his voice raspy.

"okay- wait." he whispers, rubbing his eyes, "can I ask, when you say you've never done anything, what's the most you've done.. sexually" he almost cringes at his words.

"um.. probably just doing stuff with myself.?" i reply, chris nods "okay good."

"okay, just try not to be too loud, the neighbours are always in their backyard" chris laughs, hovering above me, his face directly ontop of me as i lay on the edge of the bed.

my eyes widen as i feel a veiny cold hand on the inside of my thigh, "you sure?" chris asks for the 80th time,

"chris i need you, yes- please."

i close my eyes, the brunette presses a finger against my hole "just gonna stretch ya out a little bit first hm?" he says from above me before pressing his long finger deep inside of me,

"fuck." i whisper under my breath, my back arching slightly off the bed.

he begins to curl that finger inside of me, adding another finger quickly

"look at me."

he says, i squint my eyes open, soft whimpers escaping my lips. i lock eyes with him as he continues to thrust his fingers in and out of me.

a desperate gasp escapes my mouth as i feel his mouth attatch to my clit, "oh my god- fuck oh my god." i repeat under my breath.

"gonna finish already for me?" chris says with a hint of a cocky tone in his tone.

i let out a loud whine which echoes through the room as i feel my orgasm rapidly approaching "you got it, im right here." chris says into my ear.

i instantly clench around his fingers, the knot in my stomach snapping with a moan of chris's name. "there she is, let me hear you."

i flop my arms above me on the matress as chris pulls his fingers out of me, he wipes them on my thigh before starting to yank down his sweatpants, leaving him in his boxers

“tell me when your ready okay?” chris says, sitting down on the bed next to me as i lay down,

“chris”

“yeah?” he replies

“thank you, you didn’t have to do this.” i say with a small smile, my cheeks still flushed.

“no honestly i’m more than happy to do this” chris laughs, earning a nudge from my elbow to his rib.

i sit up on the bed, giving chris a certain look. he nods, standing up off the bed and pulling down his boxers.

i stare very obviously at his length, my eyes fixed on the long vein which follows the whole left side of his cock.

“you okay?” chris laughs slightly, i look up at him “yeah, no- just nervous.”

chris grabs my hand “listen, i’m going to talk you through everything, it won’t hurt, i promise.”

“okay.” i reply, “what position do you want me in?” i ask slowly letting chris’s hand go.

“just lay down on your back, wanna see your face okay?” chris says with a smile.

i lay back down, my bare back hitting the soft plush of chris’s matress. chris takes my hand again, “squeeze my hand if you need a break” he whispers.

i breathe in heavily, then out as chris positions himself between my legs.

“can you spread a little more for me sweetheart?” he asks, the pet name making me clench around nothing.

i spread my legs further, chris admires me, the position i’m in right before his eyes.

“there we are.” he says under his breath,

“i’m just going to give you the tip, and if it’s uncomfortable tell me okay?” chris says, squeezing my hand lightly as he rests his tip against my core.

“please.” i breathe out, looking up at his addictive eyes.

chris slowly pushes inside of me, a burning sensation as i stretch around him. i let out a pathetic moan. he pauses,

“you took the tip, feeling okay?” chris asks, looking down at me, his brown hair flopping on his forehead as he leans down to hear my awnser.

“feels new.. but good.” i whisper, chris nods.

he nods before pushing further inside of me, i arch my back off the bed, strings of whimpers exiting my mouth, i squeeze chris’s hand hard, he instantly stops

“chris- how much more?” i ask, overwhelmed

“you took half, should we try the other half aswell?” chris asks in a serious tone.

after a few seconds i reply “yes.”

chris places a kiss onto my lips, i kiss him back.

my eyes widen, i guess it was a good distraction because i barely notice chris pushing deeper inside of me, i let out a pleasured moan “fuck- chris”

i feel him bottom out, he has small droplets of sweat sitting on his forehead, his pale cheeks are a deep red.

chris starts to speak after about half a minute of silence, accompanied by our shared heavy breaths. “can i move?” he says, “yeah.” i reply.

he slowly starts to thrust in, and out of me. almost pulling out, but then pushing back inside of me, his pink tip pressing against my cervix lightly.

“you’re doing so well, let me hear those pretty noises.” chris says, his voice low and croaky.

i fill the room with loud moans

“look at me, look at me.” chris says, grabbing my chin which is tilted upwards from throwing my head back. he tilts my head down, locking eyes with me.

“you feel so good around me mhm?” chris groans, my eyes squinted but still staring into his.

“i’m not gonna last long chris.” i whimper out, chris nods

“that’s perfect, i’ll tell you when to finish and you will” he replies, i nod frantically.

i feel my high coming, with every thrust i clench around chris.

“ready..” he says, almost whines,

“you okay?” i ask, my breathing intensifies

“just need to cum, real bad.” he replies, his voice strained.

and with that, i finish with a scream of his name.

chris instantly pulls out, painting my chest and stomach with white streaks. “fuck y/n, oh my god, fuck-.. fuck.” chris throws his head back, stroking his length a final few times.

he falls down on the bed beside me, propping himself up on his elbows.

after a handful of seconds he sits up, pulling me onto his lap. “you okay? you did so well, took me so well.”

“i’m okay.” i laugh into chris’s chest.

“let’s get you cleaned up.” chris says, tapping my hips then carrying me into the bathroom.

he places me down on the countertop before grabbing a damp cloth.

he pats my inner thigh with the cloth, he lets out a small laugh,

“yeah?” i question

“i never woulda thought you’d be screaming my name.” he says casually.

i scoff as chris leaves the bathroom, he comes back with the clothes i was wearing earlier he starts to redress me, his concentration at an all time high.

after chris had redressed he helps me off the counter, “cmon let’s go get something to drink.” chris says, grabbing my hand and leading me out of his bedroom.

i’m met with nick and matt, leaning on the kitchen counter. my heart stops, i thought chris got them out of the house?

chris instantly drops my hand “thought you guys were at target.” he says with a embarrassed laugh.

“we got 2 minutes down the road then decided to get it another day.” nick says, eyes fixed on chris’s.

“so are you two offical?” matt asks with a smile, chris’s head snaps round to look at him “what do you mean!” he says defensively

“trust me, we heard those fucking screams” nick laughs, slapping chris’s bicep.

“no guys, i can explain i swear.” chris starts, following nick and matt close behind, as they walk into the living room.

“it wasn’t what you think-“ chris rambles, i can hear the smile on his face.

i laugh to myself, shaking my head with a scoff.

————-

#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo headcanon #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo smut

[alastorss]

a/n: hihi @bri22222 !! tumblr for some reason ate your ask in my inbox but here is the cat demon!reader taking care of sick alastor request you sent <3 i hope you like it!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You had taken it upon yourself to become Alastor's own personal nurse when he got sick, despite his outspoken displeasure in being babied.

He was an Overlord, for god's sake, and one of the most feared at that. There was a certain irritation in him when you would show up to his room (which didn't even have a bed in it until he fell ill and you decided to push one in yourself, much to his dismay).

You'd sport all kinds of goods; warm jambalaya, his own mother's recipe, that he would deny even though he was itching to eat it. Some cough drops that tasted horribly of sickly sweet honey and lemon. Fresh boxes of tissues since he was going through them faster than you could imagine.

The worst of them all was when you would show up at the foot of his bed with little rodents, eyes wide and expectant for praise that would never come. Then you'd settle in his bed, curled up in his lap like you owned the place, and fall asleep.

While the warmth was nice, which he would never admit, and he liked the feeling of his hand smoothing down the hair between your set of drooping feline ears, he's not sure how much more of this he can take.

"You know," he starts one day when you sit at the edge of his bed, straightening out the duvet as you do. "I do wish you would stop fretting over me."

"You're sick," you deadpan. "And you took care of me when I was sick. At least let me return the favour."

He grimaces, remembering how miserable you looked when you caught a nasty flu a few months ago. Who knew cats were so pitiful when sick?

"Really, dear, it's fine! I was just helping a friend."

You frown, unconvinced. "And I'm just helping you back! Come on, you can barely go downstairs to get food by yourself."

"I'm perfectly fine!" He mutters between his grit teeth, smiling bordering on baring his fangs at you. Unfortunately, he doesn't do a very good job at intimidating you. Not after you've already seen his soft side of clinging to you like you're his personal heater.

Of course, his cursed demon body decides to betray him at that exact moment and he falls into a coughing fit, sputtering as he rakes in sharp breaths of air.

You're quick to climb over the bed to him, straddling his lap and forcing him to drink from his glass of water. He glares at you but drinks without refusal.

Alastor is the Radio Demon. Owner of souls. Entertainer extraordinaire. Yet here he is, taken down by a pathetic fever and being coddled by his favourite feline.

He carefully pinches your tail to get you to pull away from him, yelping in the process. "I'm fine," he hisses. "I don't need your help. I don't need to be taken care of!"

Your ears flatten against your head at his tone and you scramble off of his lap, cowering like a wounded animal.

For a moment he feels a flash of remorse, or whatever feeling has replaced what would be guilt in that black heart of his. He even considers opening his mouth to say something more reassuring. But then you scurry out of the room and slam the door behind you. His ears ring from the echo of it, then deathly silence follows.

Alastor reaches over to drink from his water glass on his own, only to realize it was knocked over in the commotion.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

He counts the days that pass, subconsciously or not, and feels his smile shrinking by each daylight.

Sure, he was quick to temper, but he had never lashed out at you before. It's an awful feeling that sinks into his stomach, making him dread what's to come when he fully recovers.

Worst of all, he was wrong. He does need your help.

It was peaceful at first and he enjoyed the silence that came without your company. However, he hadn't realized how accustomed he had grown to your ambient presence.

How had he never realized you were so loud when you made your entrances, or that you purred ever so slightly when he scratched just behind your ears? And was he really so weak that he was thinking of apologizing? He can't stand the idea that he may have frightened or hurt you.

It used to be so easy for him to sit with his own thoughts. Nowadays it's hard without getting to hear about your day or getting to fluster you with his incessant teasing.

He's cold, too. He would gladly let you fetch him a hundred rodents if it meant getting to hold onto you in his sick state.

On the fifth day, he decides he's had enough. The demon doesn't even bother knocking, instead opting to materialize from the shadows and jumpscare you from behind.

"I'm..." he seethes through his teeth, eyes thin and twitching.

You tilt your head at him curiously, prickled hairs flattening back down as confusion replaces your adrenaline. "You... what?"

"I'm sorry," he finally manages to get out, though it comes strained and awkward. Still, he swallows his pride and avoids your eyes while he continues. "I was wrong."

You stare at him blankly for a few seconds, intrigued by the sight of such a powerful Overlord trying to do something as uncharacteristic as apologize. In the end, you can't contain your laughter.

He glowers at you as you topple over in your bed in a fit of giggles, wiping away the tears in your eyes.

"Oh, you sap. Come here!" You sit up and open your arms wide, a big, cheeky (and smug) grin spreading across your face.

Grumbling, Alastor shuffles into your bed and collapses into you, effectively crushing you under him. You don't seem to care, arms tugging him closer and tail brushing over his body.

"You missed me that much?"

"One more word out of you and I am leaving."

"Aww, so that's a yes?"

The Radio Demon only sighs, heavy eyes drifting shut in your warmth.

"Don't get it twisted, dearest. I will not be thanking you for putting rats in my sheets every morning."

~

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria (send an ask to be added!)

#🍓 faye's thoughts <3 #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #alastor fanfic #alastor fluff #alastor headcanons #alastor fanfiction #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x you #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin #hazbin fic #alastor fic #radio demon #radio demon x reader

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Touch (Part 2)

Miguel O'Hara x reader

GIF by milesmoralespilled

(AO3 Mirror), Part 1, Main Masterlist

summary: Miguel tries to win you over. It doesn't go as planned.

warnings: pwp!!, light f-dom, praise kink, fem receiving oral, slight m-sub, lots and lots of begging. Miguel is a switchy mess bc i said so. 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: I am so normal about him!

wc: 2.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You avoid him like the plague. 

The next day, he wakes up to an empty house with you leaving for work earlier than usual. He traipses around the apartment, looking for you before he realises he is chasing your ghost: the traces of scent left on sheets. And he is shameless when he walks into your shared bedroom, rolling around in your heady perfume and pressing the rumpled bedsheets to his nose. Aching, always. 

His own work takes him out of the apartment for most of the day, but he makes a point to slip away early. Little things, mostly: the bodega down the street for your favourite noodles, fresh lilies from a florist on the way, and some chocolate and sweet things to say sorry. He sets up in the kitchen, putting the flowers in water; hands flying on the chopping board to make dinner in time for when you come home. 

Miguel is a careful man; very particular about the way he lives his life. As such, he hunkers down a plan to apologise, showering you with affection and attention to make up for the past few weeks. He wants to be home when you get back, welcoming and warm before he slips out for his… night shift. His other job, that you are just as important as, a fact he wants you to remember.

He can hear you a couple floors down, the tell-tale click of your heels down the corridor and into the elevator. He scrambles to the front room, lounging on the sofa but ready to take your coat off and ask about your day. To go through the routine you had before all the late nights and lonely evenings. 

"Evening, mi vida." He looks expectantly towards you as you walk in. "How was work?" 

You kick off your shoes and breeze into the bedroom - without so much of a glance at him. Deflating, he watches as you shut the door behind you. Miguel sinks into the sofa cushions, sighing in frustration. 

~~~

And it stays like that for the next couple of days: you make it a point to ignore him. Short curt responses after work; Yes Miguel, No Miguel, I put it on the counter, Miguel. He misses the pout of your lips, the pet names, hell, he'd take it if you shouted and screamed at him to take the edge off. Nary a Miggy in sight. You give him nothing. 

Ever perceptive, he notices the little things. You still make his lunch when you can, and leave out food for him when he has a late night and forgets to eat. Small, gentle reminders that you care for him. Not that he ever doubted it, of course. 

When he clambers in through the back window, the one you always leave open for him, it's late. He clutches his side, groaning at a nasty bruise at his ribs. His mask comes off in the dim light, and he rubs his temples. Sore and exhausted, he pads through to the kitchen. 

Despite the lack of adrenaline, his senses are perfectly attuned. He smells it first: the sticky scent of arousal, so fresh he can taste it in the air. There's rustling, and as he pads closer to the bedroom door, he is almost bowled over by the obscene sounds of your fingers buried in your cunt. The door is slightly ajar, and he watches you on silk sheets with the light of the moon spilling onto your frame. One hand clamped over your mouth, the other curling into your pussy, and your eyes screwed tightly shut. His legs weaken at the knees when he realises you're in one of his sweatshirts, desperately humping your hand for release. 

For the past week, you've barely spoken to him, let alone touched him. He's reminded of that when his cock throbs in his suit. He palms himself absentmindedly, the heel of his hand providing juust the right amount of pressure, before catching himself. He feels like a pervert, watching you get off like this, desperate to bury his tongue between your thighs. Space, you need space, and he is trying his hardest to give it to you. Shaking his head, he tears himself away. 

Until he hears a heart-wrenching moan erupt from beyond the door, that is. You curse quietly, Spanish swear words you've clearly heard from Miguel. He doesn't know whether to laugh or to cry when you quicken your pace - trying to chase that high. You're frustrated, he can tell, removing the hand at your mouth to squeeze your tits through his sweatshirt. 

With a flash of pink tongue, he wets his lips and gently opens the door wider, leaning on its door frame. You are too occupied to notice him watching, hand on his cock through his suit. And he just waits for a moment, eyes hungry as he matches your speed when he rubs himself through the fabric. Your hips arch slightly, making his cock jump. 

"Mierda, baby." He breathes and your eyes snap open, as you remove your hand with a hiss. 

Miguel stands at your door, windswept hair, beautifully flushed and ruined - all from just watching. He continues to palm himself shamelessly, never breaking eye contact. 

"S'not enough, is it?" He says, shakily. 

He's right and you know it. You can't cum, no matter how hard you try, because it's not the same. Not the same as your boyfriend's long fingers and thick cock pounding into you, persistent. 

He stalks closer and repeats himself. "Not enough for my princesa, hmm?" 

You groan, covering your face. "Miguel-"

"-fuck off, I know, I know." He sinks to his knees in front of you, by your side of the bed. "Let me help you, mi vida."

You hesitate. He looks gorgeous in the half light: hair tousled, looking up at you through heavy eyes. Despite your better judgment, you get closer, legs spread and hanging off the edge of your bed. 

"You want me to beg? Because I will, princesa, I will. Te necesito tanto, tan desesperadamente. I need you so much it hurts. Look, please," He reaches over to paw at your thighs with big, gloved hands. The scent of your cum is overpowering this close - heady and addictive with his enhanced senses. 

"...l-look at what you do to me. Turn me into a mess, can't think about anything else. Solo en ti, princesa. Only you." 

You card your fingers in his hair and he is reverent. Migeul babbles in broken English like a madman, barely taking a breath. You feel the familiar heat of arousal in your gut. He's making you wet, without even trying. 

Cruelly, you jerk his head into your pussy, and he laps you open with a ready tongue. He moans into it, sucking at your clit and lips as you hump his face. His own hips cant at the same pace you've set, rubbing his tented lower half onto the bed frame for some relief. 

Slobbering and messy, he moans into your cunt - hands on your ass to push you further onto his face. He's eating you out like a man starved - and the noises he makes are pornographic. You squeeze your thighs around his head, and he almost cums right then, his hips bucking dramatically upwards with a groan. Watching him unravel is too much to bear, and so you tug at his hair, separated with a wet pop. Head tilted slightly back, chin and mouth glistening with your wetness, he flashes his fangs at you with a lazy grin. You're both panting, breathless from the carnality of it all. 

You clench around nothing; so, so close. 

He wipes his slick mouth with a forearm, before placing his head by your knees. 

"Look how pretty you are, mi sol." He slaps your pussy, watching it pulse in response. "So wet. Is this all for me?" 

Hesitantly, you bite your lip and nod. Miguel rubs circles into the meat of your thigh, sucking hickies into the skin. 

"I can make you feel so good," He whispers into your skin - so tender it makes you shiver. "I just want to make you feel good. Whatever you want, I'll give it to you. Sé que soy tuyo para siempre mi señorita hermosa. I'm yours… fuck… I-I'm yours…"

You won't be able to wrench him from your cunt; you know that much. When he gets like this, delirious from the heat of your two bodies together in the low light, he turns into something else entirely. Maybe it's to do with his changed DNA, something more than human at the crook of his chest - animalistic and primal. 

You cradle his cheek, so he's forced to look up at you. 

"I want you in me, Miggy. Want it to hurt."

His eyes flutter shut as he nods frantically, moving to stand up. You help him out of his suit, snug around his crotch until his cock springs free. His tip is an angry red and weeping so much precum it spills onto the sheets. His frame is delicious; broad shoulders and strong arms, stocky with the muscle of his thighs and solid middle. Miguel is beautifully tan, with the prettiest cock you think you've ever seen. Long, thick, and curved to the side. You've dreamt about the way he hits your spongy walls in all the right places. 

He helps you out of his sweatshirt, with expert fingers. He practically drools at the swell of your tits, kneading them with one palm as he clambers over you. There's a content sigh as he rubs his cock, sticky with precum, over your slit; head back and hips moving like water. He pulls a moan out of you when he finally - finally - fills you up in one swift movement. 

"Mierda, baby, does that feel good?" He croons, rubbing slow circles into your clit. His answer comes when you clench around his cock, creating a creamy ring around its base. He crouches to nip at your skin with his fangs, rolling his hips into yours. 

He knows your body better than you do, and it feels good. You claw at his back in pleasure, babbling his name into the crook of his neck. But it's not enough. It's like he knows when you're on the edge, about to come, slowing his hips until they simply grind on your clit, rutting against you. It's cruel, and it causes tears well up in your eyes. 

"F-Faster. Please." He just keeps grunting, barely speeding up. A slow, steady, relentless pace, picking up his hips until his cock is almost out of your hole, before filling you in one firm movement. 

He keeps going, and going, until your hips shake and your bodies heave with the effort. His back is red and raw with scratches as your pleas fall on deaf ears. 

"Harder, Miguel. Please, baby, I need it. F-Faster. Want it to hurt." You sob softly, drunk on pleasure.

He kisses up the tears that fall. "I know, mi vida. But it's not what you need right now, hmm?" 

He whispers soft praises into your tits, your collarbone, the fat of your cheeks. Anywhere and everywhere that needs it: so he can tell you how beautiful you are and how much he cares for you. He swallows up your moans with his lips on yours, sending you over the edge. That tight string at your gut snaps, and you cum so hard you see stars. 

He doesn't stop, picking up the pace in the aftershock of your spasms. You can tell he's trying hard not to follow, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. When your orgasm subsides, he pulls out with a shaky moan. 

"One more, f'me, baby. Una más para mí, just one more." 

You hum into his kiss, and he hooks his hands under your knees. Placing your legs over his shoulders, he sinks back into you with a satisfied grunt. Now, he pounds into you - the slap-slap of your ass against his hips resounding in your little bedroom. You make a mess, creamy cum spilling where your bodies connect. You force him deeper, harder, with a hand on his neck. 

"M'close, Miggy." You tug the hair at the nape of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. 

"Good girl, good fucking girl." His hips stutter when he feels you clench at his words. "I want to cum with you, princesa. Can I cum? Please, baby, c-can I cum?" 

Gently nodding, you wrap a hand around his throat and pull him in for a kiss - so consuming and heady it makes you want to sink into his skin. You clamp down on his cock, and his pace slurs; before Miguel spills his warm cum deep into your cunt. His hips still, and he curls into you, deepening the kiss. 

Exhausted, you separate, side by side. Still sticky with his cum, he wraps you up in his arms, pressing shaky kisses to your temple. 

"I love you." He says, gently. 

"Doesn't feel like it, sometimes." You breathe. 

You both lay there, completely still. He furrows his brow, terse with the words he wants to say but can't. All he can do is pull you closer, and envelope you in the warmth of his skin. 

"Miggy?" You say after a while. 

He hums. 

"I love you too." 

_

_

_

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #smut #spiderman 2099 x reader #light angst #cuz i can't help myself #kat_writes😼 #miguel o hara x reader

[sabohime]

♡ 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦

multi x fem!reader

♡ . eek my first post!! some simple headcannons for you guys! enjoy :) nothing explicit (for now 😈) but! there are references to dicksucking!

♡ . includes: law, sabo, sanji

LAW

Law is constantly on edge. It hurts seeing your captain so stressed all the time.

So, being the dutiful crewmate you are, you decide to…provide him with a little ‘relaxant’. It’s not your fault he’ll have to work for it…

“Y/n-ya, what are you-“ “It’s hot, Captain!”

Law blushes at that. You can barely see it through the Tang’s dim lighting and his tanned skin, but from the way his eyes widen and his breath hitches, you can tell your plan is working.

Why is he harping about your wardrobe? Well, your typical Heart Pirates boiler suit had been traded in for a tight tank and skimpy shorts. How old were these? With the way your thighs were pinched by the elastic of your shorts, and the way your breasts practically fell out of your top, Law was certain you had dug deep in your closet to fish these clothes out.

“Y/n-ya. Seriously,” his tattooed hand rests on your shoulder now, dangerously close to the thin strap of your tank top. “We have uniforms for a reason.”

“Are you really gonna make me change, Captain?” you pout. You watch his brow furrow, and you know you’ve got him now.

“I think I’ll have fun ripping this off of you, Y/n-ya,” he grunts, hot breath now in your ear. His hands wander down to your shorts, palming your ass and taking notice of your lack of panties. “Even more dress code violations? I might just have to punish you tonight, Y/n-ya.”

You gulp. Law says Room and suddenly you’re in his bedroom.

“Regretting your decision, Y/n-ya?”

SABO

Once again, Dragon’s given him far too much paperwork.

As his secretary, it’s your job to provide him with some repose from his workload.

So…What better to let him take another load out on you? Maybe you should snag a pillow from your desk chair next time…

“Chief, I brought you the tea you asked for. A splash of milk and extra sugar,” you say, repeating his order sweetly and perfectly from years of practice. When you cross the threshold to his office, you find your chief of staff with his vest off, cravat undone and on the table, and his shirt partly unbuttoned.

The sight of his scarred, muscular chest makes you gulp. It’s okay Y/n, you can do this, you assure yourself.

“Thank you, Y/n-chan. You’re so kind, helping me out,” Sabo says, his cheeks rosy and smile innocent. You think him the perfect caricature of a schoolboy.

“It’s nothing, chief. I am your secretary after all. It’s my job,” you grin, placing the tea on his desk in front of him. You make sure to lean over and give him an eyeful of cleavage, just in case he might be interested.

“Is it your job to tease me as well?”

You freeze. You didn’t actually think he’d take the bait. Shit.

“Don’t be shy now, Y/n-chan. I’ve already gotten a nice view of your tits. And your skirt could be pulled down a tad, I suppose. You’re hardly professional these days,” you listen, face hot, sweat beginning to run down your back. At least he wasn’t scolding you— that was evident in the fact he said ‘tits’, and the generally teasing lilt in his usually silky smooth voice. It’s gotten deeper because he’s so tired, and it’s starting to make you clench your thighs.

“I-uh, I’m sorry, chief. I- I figured…” you scramble, trying to think of some excuse to remedy this situation. “I figured you might want a, uh, distraction. Right! A distraction from work!”

“Oh really?” the blond grins, pushing his chair away from his desk and moving his hands to unbutton his trousers. “Dragon-san has been giving me so much paperwork. It’s the least you could do, right Y/n-chan?”

You watch in awe as he takes himself out of his boxers.

“Now, Y/n-chan…How much of a distraction can you be?”

SANJI

Sanji gets hard just from smelling women’s perfume. So seducing him is easier than…really anything.

So, one night you can’t sleep. And the chef in the kitchen preparing recipes seems like a wonderful target for your affections.

“Sanji-kun, what’re you making?”

Sanji jumps from his place stirring on the counter, surprised at the sound of your beautiful voice.

“Oh my! Has an angel descended down on me to try my humble cooking?” the man swirls around you with hearts in his eyes, eventually bending down on one knee to kiss your knuckles. “It’s nothing special, my dear Y/n-swan. Simply practicing recipes for fruit tarts.”

You cup his cheek. A trickle of blood comes down his nose, but he pulls away from your touch to quickly wipe it away.

“Sounds yummy, Sanji. Could I try one?”

“Of course, mellorine!” Sanji keens. You smile at how cute he is. The blond grabs a fruit tart, which happens to be your favorite fruit, and brings it over to you.

He sits it on a plate in front of you, waiting like a lapdog as he anticipates praise for his cooking. However you don’t move to pick up the tart.

“Y/n…swan?”

“Feed it to me, Sanji-kun?” you say seductively, leaning over the kitchen island so your breasts pop over your crossed arms. Immediately Sanji is staring, but you don’t scold him this time. This was your goal.

“Of- of course, anything for my Y/n-swan,” Sanji stutters. He brings the small tart to your lips, and as you reach the last bite, you grab his wrist.

You decide to be extra bold, and lick a stripe up his finger. Your mouth detaches with a pop, and Sanji looks like he might pass out.

“That was good, Sanji-kun. Do you have any other special treats for me?”

#♡ sabohime.writes #one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece headcanons #law x reader #law x female reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #sabo x reader #sabo x female reader #sabo x you #sabo the revolutionary x reader #sanji x reader #sanji x fem reader #sanji x you #sanji x y/n

[justaaveragereader]

Slashtober🔪||American Psycho

Pairing: Mingi x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Dom!Mingi, Manhandling, Cum Eating, Choking, Rough Sex, Squirting, Name Calling, Oral, Exhibitionism, Public Sex, Fingering, Belt Use As A Restraint, Mingi Has A God Complex🤪, Unprotected Sex (Don’t Do It!), If I Missed Anything…👀👀Let Me Know…

A/N: I’m still blind asf, but hopefully I get my glasses this weekend, so you already know the drill, sorry for the spelling errors😬

Slashtober Masterlist

The third resident to arrive was Song Mingi, the man was one of the biggest neighbors, falling right behind Jeong Yunho. Mingi was one of the quiet ones from the bunch. Everyone looked at him when he walked by, he was sculpted like a God, thighs that could crush a melon, and hands that look like they could palm a basketball. You didn’t speak with Mingi much due to his day job, he was a hardcore businessman, you always saw him coming or going with his briefcase, with that tie that made you just wanna give it a tug while he was in between your…

He was quite friendly, you had only spoken a couple of times, the main time being when you went to go and greet him. Typical things welcome him to the neighborhood, see if he was in a relationship, see what he did as a profession. You know the typical nosey neighbor things.

~

“You should try talking to him!” Your best friend said through your FaceTime call. Trying to hype you up to go and talk to Mingi, you always viewed yourself as the neighborhood ambassador but were too frightened at him rejecting your offer. What was the offer? Nothing, besides being a friendly neighbor. You had often seen Mingi leaving his house late at night in a plastic like coat, you had assumed he took up some art courses with Hongjoong faulting him to always being wrapped in the plastic. You always were curious as to what the businessman Song Mingi did in his spare time, wanting to take a peek and be nosey, you had seen him pulling out of his driveway. Ending the call in a hurry you make way towards his house, it was well past 10pm. Assuming Mingi had more work at his office, you skipped over to his house, little did you know someone had been watching you make way towards his home, notifying Mingi of the soon to be intrusion of privacy.

As you shimmied your way into his backyard, you found that his back patio doors were unlocked, trying your best to fight with your morals. This was supposed to be a quick peek to learn about your quiet neighbor. Not a full on break in, your brain out weighed your heart, resulting in you cracking open the sliding glass doors, taking a quick peek inside. His house looks like it’s untouched. Everything is perfect the way it is, it almost looks like a doll house, everything was angled a certain way, everything was eerily perfect. Curiosity gets the best of you, resulting in you stepping into his home, you hear the plastic crinkle immediately, looking down at the floor you notice all the floors are covered in a thick layer of plastic tarp. Curiosity blinding your mind you fail to see the large man quietly waltzing into his own home, he’s as silent as a mouse. A deadly grin has taken over his face, he’s found a new plaything in his yard. Stalking towards you like you are the prey he’s been waiting for. You are so enamored in his collection of figurines, but it’s a glass plaque that catches your attention, your fingers run over the plaque lightly.

“The wolf has eyes for prey, the cow has eyes for hay, one is the killer, the other is buffet.”

Not getting a full moment to process the quote when you hear a slight shift, your instincts kicking in almost immediately. Swinging the ax you duck just in time, the head of it wedges in the doorframe, wood pieces flying around your crouched body. Throwing your hands up over your head, you quickly try to scramble away, knees hitting the floor with a thud. Scrambling on the wooden planks, your chest is heavy with fear when his large hand clasps around your ankle, pulling you back towards him like you are a weightless object. How strong was this man?!

The crinkle of his plastic coat falls upon your deaf ears, too worried with trying to get away, you try your best to kick his hands, refusing to make a sound, not wanting to give away that your ‘nice, friendly, non nosey’ neighbor cover basically had been blown away. He swings the ax again, caking itself right in between the plastic covered wooden floor boards right by your head. Your whole body freezes, your fight or flight falls suddenly, your body carelessly being dragged through his home. Pulling the ax out of the floor, he holds the dull blade to the back of your neck. The cool metal causes your body to shiver. Adrenaline courses through your veins, while you are in the most compromising position you can’t help but think, what if his large hands ran down your legs up to cup your ass, what if he threw you against the wall and bit all over you? Leaving his mark for others to see?

“What are you doing in my home?” His timber voice riddles your body with goosebumps, with a voice like that you want to fly out of your clothes and let him all over your body. It didn’t matter that he could literally lift his arm and swing your head off with the ax, your mind was clouded with Song Mingi.

“I-I’m sor-sorry.” You try to get through as clearly as possible, failing miserably. Gripping the ax a bit tighter he tells you to roll over onto your back so he can see exactly who it is, even though he already knows who it is. Nodding your head, you slowly roll over, you are caged in between his legs, while his menacing eyes stare down at you like you are nothing less than what’s on the bottom of his shoe. His eyes sparkle with mischief.

“My, my, my, what do we have here.” He says with a gleeful voice yet a smile never reaches his face which was odd as you heard him use that tone of voice numerous times, it was always with a smile plastered on his sculpted face.

“Mingi I swear, I jus-.” Cutting your own sentence mid way as he squats down, his thighs brushing over your own legs. His intimidating gaze burns holes all over your face, you can feel the sweat start to bead around your neck line not wanting to poke the bear more then you should you shut up, opting to just look at him through your lashes. While fear pumped through your veins, lust did too. It was hard not to feel such things when you had a big man hovering over your body. Pulling the ax out of the floor again, with each movement his clear plastic coat crinkles, snapping you out of your daze. Your eyes fly over every single one of his features, his sharp nose, his plush lips, his enticing eyes, the man looked like a God.

“I’m sorry…” you whisper out, he pushes the dull blade of the ax under your chin, your eyes drifting back onto his own, while it is hard to see due to the darkness in the room you can feel the energy shift. Rubbing your thighs together, your hands tighten into fists. Letting out a tsk noise like he’s disappointed in what he’s found. He stands up, the ax blade still sitting under your chin, the cool blade digs slightly into your skin. Your life laid in his big, deadly, strong hands.

“You know usually I take their lives after I’ve been seen, but you… I might just keep around.” He whispers out, eyes glazed over stilling in his motions, his voice feels like velvet is rubbing in your ears. Your eyes flutter with every word he speaks, it’s hard for your brain to process you are in potential danger. Yet the way his scent evades your senses, along with his smooth, deep voice that fills your ears, and flies around like small butterflies scattering in your brain you are drunk on this man and you haven’t even had a taste of him.

“Stand up baby girl.” Your body shivers at the nickname he’s picked out for you, stepping back slightly so you have room to stand as your figure rises. You stand on your feet, plastic crinkling beneath you, he wedges the ax back into the floorboard, the plastic cushioning around the dull blade. Walking around you like he’s stalking his dinner, he’s playing with you, getting you on edge for what’s to come.

“What should I do with you..?” He whispers in that deep voice you’ve become drunk, even obsessed with, if sex had a voice it would belong to Song Mingis vocal chords. He pauses behind your shaking body, you can feel his presence loom behind you, an energy so strong it makes your whole body sweat, the back porch door is still cracked open you feel the autumn breeze blow in, yet the heat he’s creating between the both of you is suffocating.

You hear him step closer to you, you can feel him step closer to you. His large hand settles on your hip, jerking your body back against his firm chest. You immediately feel his hard cock straining behind the plastic coat, tucked away beautifully in his work slacks. You let out a small whimper, your sticky skin sticks to the plastic coat. A small chuckle leaves him, lowering himself so he is right next to your ear.

“Is your body shivering with need? Or is it shivering because you’ve been caught?” Your brain immediately turns into soup, you are positive you can feel it slosh around in your skull. Gripping your hip he walks you toward the glass sliding doors, turning you around he shoves your back against them, towering over you with ease. You let out an accidental moan, letting out a mocking chuckle, he lowers himself to his knees. The Song Mingi is kneeling right before you, staring at you with an undetectable glint in his eyes, something you've never ever seen before. His sharp nose brushes against the front of your cunt, inhaling the scent deeply. Letting out a quiet groan, he rolls his neck, eyes fluttering back before gripping your pants, tugging them down to your ankles. Your body moves like it’s on autopilot, tossing one of your legs over his shoulder so he has better access to you.

“I’m starting to think you only came in here to get fucked.” He grunts out, running two fingers through your wet folds, staring at your bare pussy in amazement at how wet it is. As his fingers continue through your folds you let out a loud moan, tossing your head back on the glass. When it dawns on you that if anyone were to sit in their own backyard they’d have a front view as to what Mingi was doing to you. Trying to bring your leg down from his shoulder, he lets out a small chuckle, gripping your other leg and tossing it over his shoulder. He stands to his full height, your body being supported by his large shoulders, you are suspended in mid hair, back firmly pressed against the cool glass.

“Wait Min-Oh my God!” You semi yell out, he dives tongue first into your cunt, wrapping his tongue around your clit giving it a good suck, before letting his tongue explore all through your folds. His large hands come up to grip your hips, pinning you against the cool glass. The way you are moaning and shouting it is definitely echoing throughout the quiet home, and the backyard of his house. Your moans sound like a beautiful symphony to him. He's practically making out with your pussy, he’s precise with each suck on your clit, switching back and forth between sticking his long, warm tongue deep in your hole, while flicking it back to wrap around your clit and give it a good strong suck, flickering his tongue across it from time to time. He was eating you out like he truly was a starved man. Gripping your hips tighter, he lets a hand wander, gripping your throat tightly, immediately snatching the air from your lungs. He squeezes just enough where your oxygen barely gets cut off, sending you into a immediate orgasm, your body jerks, your hand wraps around his wrist, letting out a laugh that vibrates off of your clit your orgasm rips from your core, pussy squirting juices out directly onto Mingis face, and in his mouth. You are sure he has streaks of your orgasm dripping down his plastic coat leaving reminders on it that he brought you to that tipping point. Your hand grips his wrist even tighter than before.

“That’s it, that’s a good girl, you can give me more than that.” He grunts into your cunt, diving back in with his tongue, taking one hand away from your hip, pinning you with his hand that was choking you, he rubs two of his fingers over your sensitive clit, before tapping it firmly, sticking his fingers into your clenching hole, his long fingers immediately brushing your spongy spot. You let out a small yelp, tears begin to form in your eyes at the feeling. You are high on him, you want to drink him in and never let him wander away from you. You drag your eyes down to get a good look at him, he looks like a wolf slurping down his dinner, he truly did remind you of a wolf in sheep’s clothing at this moment. His eyes screamed predator, yet the way his warm tongue was fucking your pulsing cunt you could care less. Your hand finds home in his jet black hair. Your breathing ragged, his fingers continue to make home in your warm, velvety walls. He can feel your walls pulsate around him.

“Is my princess going to cum again?” He says mockingly through a fake coo. You can feel him grin into your cunt. You whine and plead for him to keep going. Pulling away from your wet cunt he makes you look him deep in his eyes, while he pops two fingers into his mouth. Letting out a hum of approval. He moves back slightly watching your body slide down the glass slowly. Your shirt rises up as you descend. His hands still planted firmly on your hips making sure you don’t hurt yourself as you come down. As soon as your feet are planted against the plastic covering on the floor, he immediately grabs you, pulling you towards the living room, lifting the blinds, the moonlight shines off of your post orgasm body. Ripping your shirt off of your sweat coated body. Shimmying his way out of the plastic coat, work clothes out on display, you see him through the reflection undo the first couple of buttons on his shirt, along with sliding his belt off of his waist.

He shoves you against the glass, placing your body on display for the whole neighborhood, any and everyone could walk by and see you both. Your naked chest is pressed firmly against the cool glass of his living room windows, not even caring if anyone sees you. Your warm breath is causing the glass to fog up. He's still for a brief moment, his thick cock slowly enters your wet walls. Letting out a small whimper you shift your hips slightly letting out a loud moan, the plastic beneath your feet is practically glued to you from the amount of sweat that is pouring off of you. Bending you further than you ever thought you could go, he wraps your wrists together with his belt, letting your body fully rest on the glass. Your nipples instantly pebble at the cool contact, your face is squished against it. Moving his hips slowly, he suddenly slams up into you, balls slapping your clit causing your body to shift even more into the glass. Your hands come up bracing yourself for his brutal pace that has your body shifting up with each movement. Gripping your bounded wrists, he uses this as leverage, slamming your body back down with each thrust.

“Min-Mingi!” You choke out through a gasp, he was fucking you senselessly. If he had been playing a game he’d be hitting every killer combo on your body. Letting out a quiet grunt, his large body towers over your frame, one hand coming up to wrap around your throat while the other makes home on your hips.

“Say my name baby, say my fucking name.” He grits out through his signature business smile, the constant chant of his name falling from your wet lips was how it must feel for a God to be worshiped, he felt like he was on top of the world. His hips slightly slow, going even deeper than before, his hand starts to squeeze on your neck, while the other hand falls to strum on your clit like it’s a harp, it’s going to play the most beautiful tune known to mankind. Your toes clench so hard they get wrapped up into the plastic.

“Oh my Godddd!” You moan out, with each thrust back your body slacks against his hips, with every drive forward your body presses harder against the glass. Out of your peripheral vision you see a light flicker on, going to turn your head towards the light shining from the house across the street, his grip on your neck tightens, bringing you to his chest, breast on display for everyone in the neighborhood to see if they wanted to.

“Ah, ah, ah, who's got your attention baby, me or the outside world?” His hot breath heavy on your ear, the groans he’s letting out mixing with the slapping of his wet balls on your ass is making your whole body burn from the inside out, his movements on your clit get faster, causing your eyes to flutter.

“Answer me baby, next time I won’t be so nice in asking you.” He grits out, sucking a hickey into the side of your neck, marking you for the world to see, he needed a stamp on you that he was the one bringing you such pleasure. Giving your neck a tighter squeeze, his thumb on your clit rubbing rapid circles, the way he’s cutting off your oxygen, your wrist bound behind your back, makes your whole body tingle. Trying to warn Mingi of your orgasm that’s approaching it’s almost like he reads your mind, pulling out of you, your arousal drips down your leg, letting out a unsatisfied groan you glance back at Mingi who opens the front door to his home. Grabbing you along with him, the cool air hits your naked body causing you to liter with a whole new set of goosebumps. Bending you over the small balcony he slams back into you, continuing his rapid pace, one hand wrapping around your throat again, stretching your body up to his chest, while his other large hand wraps around your throat. He wants you to feel every bit of him, he wants you to feel him in your stomach, he wants to be so deep that his cock aids with the hand wrapped around your throat that is snatching your breathe away.

“There are so many people in this neighborhood, and their eyes could be on you right now, you know that?” He grits in your ear, his own orgasm approaching. Choking you tighter, your body is being fueled with so many emotions the thought of multiple people on the block seeing your bare body out in the open being fucked by Mingi fueled more desires in your body than you thought. Biting your lip to hold back your moan, you try your best to look up at him with his grip on your neck.

“When are you going to drop that nice act and let everyone see the real you? The real you that loves to get bent over and fucked like the dumb slut she is hm?” His grip gets a bit tighter, your hips fly back with each thrust up, slamming back down on his thick cock, you are so lost in Mingi, you don’t notice the other lights that flicker on within the neighborhood.

“When are you going to finally admit that you are sick in the head just like the rest of us?” He grunts into your ear nipping the lobe, his sentence sparks a whole new fire in you, before you could say anything your mouth opens in a big O, you feel your orgasm spray out of you, soaking your legs, soaking Mingis legs, cock, and balls. Your orgasm was so hard it bullied Mingis thick cock out of your cunt. Threw choked out gasps, you barely can make a sentence you’ve never felt something so powerful before. Your nails dig into your palm, while your upper body hangs off of the balcony trying to stabilize yourself. His hand tightens, aiding in it dragging out its orgasm, still keeping the same smooth moments on your clit, with his hand soaked he doesn’t move an inch. Your cum puddles in the palm of his hand. Fueling his cocky Godly ego more than you’ll ever know. Thick cock hanging while you continue to ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm. You finally come to, body completely depending on the cool metal of the balcony to hold you up, his hold still tight, and possessive on your neck, he holds you like he owns you, like you are his, and his only. You know his fingers are clearly leaving thick finger bruises on the soft skin. Snatching your body back into the house, he presses you up against the glass door once more, catching a glimpse of his reflection, you both lock eyes with one another, you watch him slurp down the juices that puddled in his hand. He looked like a true mad man, his eyes were blown, his body big with energy, while his shiny ax gleamed while still being wedged in the plastic coated floor boards. You knew just with that look he had been the death to many before you.

~

You watched as Mingi dressed in his casual button up shirt, placing his glasses back on, slicking his hair back before grabbing his briefcase. It was like clockwork with Mingi. You knew his whole routine by heart now, wanting to greet him everyday before he pulled out of his driveway, you ran down to your front door, tossing it open with a thud while he stepped foot onto the pavement, you both had seen another moving truck pull up. A smile cracking on his face as soon as he seen the man who had stepped out of the truck, with a mole under his eye, and the laugh unlike another, your smile slipped slightly, eyes growing wide at the man who was now greeting you instead of you greeting him, your new neighbor Jung Wooyoung.

Taglist: @araknoid @atinytinaa @k-hotchoisan @darkdayelixer @abby-grace @aurorasjoongie @tunaasan @jkookiejiminlvr @luckyblue98 @notevenheretbh1 @moonlightsora @raindropsondragons @park-simphwa @ro-written @hwajoongsang @certifiedmoa @pearltinyy @minniebinnie @solarstoy @frobin4ever @gvnwks @ethelia @jin-neck-shaft @nitarolls @jenthehobbityelf @gg-trini @tearfulsparks78 @10nantscompanion @moonm1st @oreoqueen @leehopehocarat @scuzmunkie @bangtan4everr @acetruepunk @s-unflowxr @rxnexxi @tenpesos @mixling-blog @sammylvr @helsnik @mrspettersen @mixtape-racha @realviviboss @mikaelless @queenoftrash97

Divider And Gif By @justaaveragereader

DO NOT REPOST.

#slashtober 2023 #slasher!ateez #Ateez smut #dom!ateez #ateez fanfic #song mingi smut #song mingi x reader #mingi x reader #mingi smut #ateez hard thoughts #ateez hard hours

[theemporium]

poly drivers (literally any idk they can all take me to Paris) reacting to a media personnel making a comment about reader… 👀👀

a mood💀thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“My next question goes to the two fellas on the right.”

You pressed your lips together to try and bite back your smile as you watched Max subtly roll his eyes as he reached for his microphone. 

It never failed to amuse you how much the boy hated media duties, even after so many years being involved with the sport. He hated it, he thought it was a waste of time, and if he could avoid it, he would. 

Meanwhile, Charles sat next to him with a charming smile on his face. Despite his questionable acting skills, he was a performer in front of the cameras. He seemed to naturally know what people wanted to hear, what they wanted to hear from him. He seemed to have the media stuff under lock and key after so many years of having a camera shoved in his face. 

And conferences like this one—where both your boys were in one group—were your absolute favourite to watch. Just seeing the mere difference in the men you loved never failed to entertain you.

But as quickly as your good mood came, it quickly dropped when you heard the reporter's question. 

“Do you think sharing the same woman has helped your relationship on track or made it worse?” 

Your stomach dipped as the room fell silent, only the clicking of cameras and scribbling of pens on notepads could be heard. You didn’t care about the other journalists gawking at you, or even the other drivers on the couch. Your eyes were firmly glued to your boys.

Charles was frowning, a look mixed with shock and disbelief written across his face. Your boy in red liked to see the best in people, expect the best in people. And you could actively see his brain trying to work around the question to see if he just misunderstood what the man had just asked. 

But Max was a different story. 

His face was stoic and the glare he sent the reporter was almost bone-chilling. You honestly expected him to storm off, or even throw something at the reporter—to act out in the way you knew he was constantly scolded about by the Red Bull PR team. 

What you weren’t expecting was for Charles to be the first one to speak. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

The shock and surprise was clear on everybody’s face as Charles straightened up in his seat, his brows furrowed as he stared at the reporter in disgust. The man opened his mouth to speak, to probably defend himself, but Charles didn’t give him the chance. 

“No, seriously, who do you think you are?” Charles continued, his accent coming out a little thicker as he spoke. “We are racers. This is our job. Our relationship has nothing to do with anything, and it’s disrespectful that you would even bring it up, let alone talk about our girlfriend like she’s an object. She’s a human, unlike whatever you are.”

You stood there, mouth agape at the words that just came out of your boyfriend’s mouth.

However, Max almost looked proud before he lifted the microphone to his lips.

“You’re a fucking dickhead, have fun completely ending your career,” he stated simply with a smug look on his face before he dropped the microphone, not even bothering to listen to the media managers as they scrambled to get him to sit back down as he walked out with Charles following. 

Your cheeks burned as everyone turned to look at you, but you didn’t pay them any attention as you quickly slid out of the conference room. You barely made it three steps out the door before you felt an arm winding around your waist and tugging you towards a hard body, the smell of Charles’ cologne hitting you seconds later. 

“Amour,” he murmured as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping tightly around you like he was scared you would disappear. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“Shh, it’s not your fault,” you cooed as you wrapped your arms around him, your fingers running through the hair on the nape of his neck as his body sagged against yours. “You were quite bold in there.”

“Didn’t like the way they were talking about us,” he grumbled.

You lifted your head when you spotted Max a few steps away, the smug look still painted across his face as he reached for you, his hand placed on the small of your back. 

“Personally, I think that was the best conference I have ever been a part of,” Max commented with a shrug, his smile widening a little when he saw you snort. 

“Be nice,” you chastised.

“I am,” he defended. “It was hot.”

“It was,” you agreed, and Charles’ arms tightened around you. 

“Let’s get him fired,” Charles said suddenly as he lifted his head to look at you both, trying to ignore the fact his cheeks were burning at your words. 

“I think he did that fine on his own,” Max said.

“No, I want him fired,” Charles frowned. “I don’t want to see him near a paddock ever again.”

“Okay, calm down,” you murmured as you ran your hands up and down his back. “Let’s just get out of here and let you cool down before you do something irrational. I think you’re on an adrenaline high.”

“I don’t like people who say things about us, about you,” Charles huffed.

You smiled as you leaned up, pressing a lingering kiss against his pouting lips. “And I appreciate that very much, baby.”

“Our knight in shining armour,” Max teased, only to wince a little when you pinched his side. “Kidding, schatz, I love you both.”

“Better,” you grinned before pecking his lips too. “Let’s stop by the Red Bull motorhome before we head back to the hotel, I want more of those churros.”

Max snorted. “Whatever you want.”

.

#lestappen #max verstappen #charles leclerc #formula one #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen one shot #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

[disneyprincemuke]

✧.* the parent trap / ls2 *.✧

while luna's observant nature is typically a blessing, you suddenly find yourself a part of her little games after you and logan get into a fight that leaves you refusing to talk to one another

notes: i missed dad!logan so here we are

“love,” logan sighs as his hand comes up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “come on.”

“don’t even say that to me!” you shriek before turning to walk away from him. “no, seriously, logan. i no longer want to speak to you.”

“you can’t just do that!”

“yeah, i can! watch me!”

marriage is fun, they said. though you actually cannot remember who specifically said that to you, or is that something you told yourself to make yourself feel better for getting married at 20?

either way, it’s tough juggling being a wife to an athlete who is rarely home, your job and a 5-year-old. you just wish someone had talked some sense into you before you decided that teenage pregnancy was smart.

spoiler alert: it, in fact, is not.

so you spend the night in the guest room by yourself with frustration in your veins. you could have opted to continue arguing with logan, but the sleeping toddler just a door down just makes it so difficult to continue.

your ability to turn a petty argument into a full fledged argument has bled into your marriage, and you have to admit that both of you are still slowly still figuring that part out.

it’s a lot harder than you thought.

you fall asleep after tossing and turning for hours, not used to the stiffness of the bed in the guest bedroom that’s only ever lived in when logan’s brother comes for a visit. the sheets smell too clean and the room is neat — you’re rarely inside, only using it as luna’s makeshift playroom at times.

so imagine the toddler’s shock when she knocks on the master bedroom door and stumbles in only to find one parent under the sheets. and it’s not even the same as before: she’d half expected you laying by yourself but not this time. it’s just logan.

considering logan is rarely home makes it all the more perplexing for the blue eyed kid.

she hums, climbing over logan who’s lying on his side. “where’s mummy?”

“mummy needed some ‘me time’,” logan grins, peeking through an eye as luna climbs under the sheets, nuzzling herself into his arms. “mummy is sleeping in the next room over.”

luna hums, nodding understandingly though concerned for her mother. she contemplates checking on you briefly, but the minute logan’s soft snores filled the empty room again, she knew she was stuck in place for the next couple of minutes until logan remembers that luna is here to wake you both up for breakfast.

so she sighs, closing her eyes and forcing herself into a slumber again to ignore her grumbling stomach. and because she hasn’t seen logan for 2 weeks, so this is kinda nice.

luna is awoken by the smell of pancakes and she knows instantly that you’ve finally rolled out of bed and mummy’s ‘me time’ is finally over. she scrambles out of logan’s arms, completely unaware of the deep slumber that her father has slipped into, interrupted by her thrashing around.

“mummy!” the girl screeches as she opens the door, stuffed koala locked between her arm and her body. “are those pancakes?”

“good morning, lulu,” you greet her, setting a plate down on the table. she greets you softly, wobbling over to you and tiptoeing when you press a kiss to the top of her head. “you slept with daddy?”

“i went in to wake him up,” she mutters, climbing onto the seat next to you, “then we fell asleep again.”

logan stumbles out of the room as well, hair a mess and eyes still half open. he merely glances at you, catching your eye as you both consider acting civilised in front of your child. though your argument is fresh in both of your heads, he greets you nonchalantly as he passes you on his way to the kitchen.

he didn’t even have to look at the table to know that you’d only prepared breakfast for yourself and luna.

“morning,” you find yourself greeting him back with a small smile to play the part in front of luna. you hunch over again and pat luna. “do you wanna go out and do something today, lulu? let’s have a girls’ day?”

she hums again, leaning forward to grab her utensils. “without daddy?”

you tilt your head. “daddy’s not a girl.”

you see luna purse her lips, furrowing her eyebrows as she considers your offer. logan is only going to be home for a week and a half, and she knows that. but you can’t physically stand the thought of staying at home with logan in the vicinity, your argument still leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

it’s just unfair that he was questioning your parenting decisions when he’s rarely here for luna the majority of the time. sure, you know how difficult it is for him to cope with the situation, always feeling like an absent father more often than not. but it’s not a good enough reason to question how you choose to deal with emergencies you deal with by yourself when he’s not home.

it’s not fair that he’d question your ability to be a parent to your sole child.

“okay,” luna shrugs with a smile. “can we go to build-a-bear?”

you smile and nod. “of course!”

it’s been 2 days since you’ve spoken to logan. both of you are running out of excuses to tell luna why you’re not sleeping in the same bed and why you’re practically ignoring one another.

acting civilised in front of the toddler seemed okay at first, until luna opened the door to the guest bedroom with a head tilt and questions on her lips.

“mummy, do you not love daddy anymore?”

you cannot begin to explain how fast you sat up and turned to the door with mirrored furrowed eyebrows and a head tilt. ��luna, why would you ask me that?”

she shrugs with a frown, looking down at her feet. “did you fight?”

you sigh, closing your eyes. you always knew treating luna like a normal human being would bound to have it’s disadvantages. she’s a very well spoken 5-year-old, articulate and more spatially aware than you would like.

“mummy and daddy are just figuring something out,” you explain softly as she closes the door behind her and walks over to where you are. “but that doesn’t mean i don’t love him anymore. why would you say that?”

she climbs on the bed and settles herself on your lap, immediately nuzzling her face into your chest. “i’m just making sure. cause i still love daddy.”

“well, i still love daddy,” you grin, brushing her hair. “i’m just upset with him right now. like you with your friend in preschool, remember? but that doesn’t mean we won’t ever make up.”

luna hums throwing her head back with a grin. then she scrambles out of bed, koala stuffie still in her arms as she runs out of the room. “okay!”

“lulu, where are you going?”

she shrugs, tiptoeing as she opens the door to leave you. “it’s my playtime now.” she turns to you with a cheeky grin. “do you want to join me?”

you nod. “can i join you in a couple of minutes? mummy’s got some work to finish.”

she nods before she closes the door behind her. but while you think that she’s disappeared into the living room for playtime, she actually makes a sharp turn for the master bedroom to ask logan the same thing.

she opens the door, feigning sadness with her head hung low. she frowns as she looks at logan with puffed cheeks and sad eyes. “you still love mummy, don’t you?”

logan, who’d already been awake and on his phone, turns to his daughter with a bewildered expression. how long was he gone for that his daughter suddenly turned into some old woman stuck in a toddler’s body?

“what?”

her frown grows. “you don’t love mummy?”

“what?” logan throws his head back, putting his phone down. “of course i still love mummy! why would you think otherwise?”

she presses her lips together, squinting her eyes as she approaches logan slowly. “you and mummy have not dropped me off at uncle oscar’s to hang out without me,” she hums, keeping her gaze on logan. “you should hang out with mummy.”

logan hums, pressing his lips together. “soon, lulu. don’t you like spending time with us together at home?”

she climbs on the bed and hunches her back. she sighs exasperatedly and shrugs with her whole body before dropping her back on the bed. “you and mummy don’t even talk to each other.”

she tries probing logan for a confession like she did with you, clearly knowing the transparency that you share from spending everyday with her. logan, however, she’s constantly trying to figure out each time he spends at home with her. not to say that she doesn’t think she’s not close with her dad — because she is — it’s just a different dynamic.

“what if…” when logan continues to stare at her, she sighs softly. she sits up. “can you play tea party with me?”

he furrows his eyebrows, shocked by the sudden change in mood. “sure? but weren’t you going to ask me something?”

she shrugs, now climbing out of the bed. “nope.” she stands on her feet and looks at logan. “tea party?”

“of course!”

suddenly logan finds himself trying to squeeze into a chair that’s clearly too small for him, sipping on imaginary tea. his daughter sits opposite him and the stuffed koala between them. he finds a plastic tiara on his head as they sit in silence for the next minute or so.

a door opens and makes luna perk up and grin at logan, her green eyes piercing into his own. “we have a special guest.”

logan tilts his head. “do we?”

“yes!” luna throws her hands in the air with a giggle, watching you approach them with a soft smile. “mummy is finished with her work! she can join us for tea party now!”

you laugh, merely glancing at logan as you approach their little table. “do you want me to make actual tea, lulu? have you guys been drinking pretend tea this whole time?”

luna shrugs, running from the table to her play kitchen where her little kettle sits on top of the plastic stove. “yes. but i like pretend tea. daddy, though,” she glances at you with a small and playful smile before looking at logan, “maybe he wants big people tea.”

“daddy can make big people tea by himself,” you laugh.

she drops her smile. “but you should ask him.”

you force a smile to your face, stiffly turning over to your husband, hunched over as he plays with the koala’s ears. “do you?” he looks at you. “want big people tea?”

logan shrugs, leaving the koala alone as he hesitantly keeps eye contact with you. “maybe.”

before you could shoot back an answer, something about making it himself, luna perks up and stumbles into you. “i changed my mind, mummy. i want some tea, please.”

you gasp. “i thought you said i was a special guest!”

“oh!” you see the gears shift in luna’s head as she shyly looks over at logan with a shy grin, finger in her mouth. “daddy…”

“okay,” logan mutters, pushing himself off the plastic chair. “i’ll make tea.”

you hold back a laugh when he stands up, the plastic chair stuck around his hips as he struggles to pull it off himself. only then do you notice that luna’s forced him into another one of her pink tutu’s for the tea party.

“hey,” you poke luna’s stomach, prompting a soft giggle from the toddler, “how come only daddy gets the cute accessories?”

she gasps, eyes wide as she darts away from you. she sprints over to the small box in the corner of the room and practically jumps in to dig for something for you. “i’ve got a tiara for you too, mummy!”

she comes back with a couple of accessories while logan’s gone to make your family some tea. you hunch over for luna to put the tiara messily on your head, even giggling as she helps you put some fairy wings on.

logan comes back with the promised tea eventually, juggling a teapot in one hand with three pink little tea cups in the other. a set that logan had found somewhere during one of his races and he couldn’t resist not getting it for luna and her tea parties involving real drinks.

“thank you!” luna perks, smiling up at logan as he takes a seat. “you made tea for mummy too?”

“of course.”

she turns to you. “mummy, what do you–”

“thanks,” you say as you finally take a seat in one of the small chairs, unfortunately, next to logan.

“i brought sugar for your tea.”

you look down at the sugar packets now sitting in front of you on the table as luna pushes away all of her plastic sets of teapots and cups. you feel your chest warm up at the subtle gesture, smiling at him as he sets the little plastic table with everything in his hands. “thank you,” you find yourself whispering as he puts a cup in front of you.

“so lulu,” logan starts, “how has pre-school been?”

you see her green eyes sparkle, excited that logan’s asked about school. she’s got stories upon stories to tell him, starting with the friends she’s made lately and the fact that she’s gotten into her first fight with a friend (they eventually make up).

then she starts rambling about her karting races, giggling about how you never fail to take her every weekend and take her out for dessert afterwards.

luna forces your phone out of your pocket, making you pull pictures out of her in her race suit and pictures of her zooming past you during her races and practice. it forces you and logan closer slightly, and suddenly you realise what luna is doing.

it only took logan turning to you with crinkled eyes, giggling along with you when the picture of luna passed out in the back of the car with her mouth hung open pops up. you’ve been set up by your own toddler, conspiring to ensure that you and logan are making up sooner rather than later.

it’s almost genius. you barely even have the time to think where she’s gotten this sneaky trait from because she starts shaking you to show logan pictures you took of your short trip to your mother’s right before he came home.

“aw, lulu,” logan coos at the picture of her interacting with your parents’ dog, all cuddled up on the couch as she watches tv. “you like mika?”

“like mika?” you snort, “she loves mika. she forced the poor husky to sleep with her the entire 3 days we were there.”

without noticing, luna starts pulling back as you and logan finally find yourselves engaged in conversation about her. she silently takes her koala from the seat next to her, slowly walking over to the couch with her ipad hoping that you don’t notice her.

“and mika was okay with that?” logan laughs, throwing his head back. “she didn’t get mauled by a dog twice her size or something?”

you shake your head in amusement at his statement. “i guess not! mika was so fond of her. probably from the constant belly rubs that luna gave her upon arrival.”

logan hums, resting his chin in his hands, elbows on his knees as he leans into you. “we should get her a dog. someone to keep her company while you’re away for work, you know?”

“logan,” you huff, furrowing your eyebrows, “she’s enough work as it is. an additional mouth to feed would be too much for me.”

he purses his lips together. “she’s been asking for a dog forever though.” you suck in a deep breath, finding yourself ready to explain why your household does not require a dog. as if reading your mind, he waves his hand in the air. “actually, you’re right. we should wait until she’s a bit older.”

you smile at him, thankful that he immediately got where you were going with the conversation. you glance at your daughter, now swinging her feet in the air as she lies on her stomach on the couch, tapping away on her ipad. “by the way,” you whisper, “i think we just got bested by our toddler.”

he giggles along with you, scrunching his nose. “i know. she’s got a future in strategising, don’t you think?”

“definitely. i haven’t been outsmarted in a while until luna started growing up to be a menace.”

he sighs, smiling slightly at you. “i’m sorry for the other night. i didn’t mean to poke at you for your decision-making — i was just shocked. you have it hard enough being home alone with luna all the time. i shouldn’t have questioned you.”

you reach over to grab his hand, squeezing it. “i’m sorry too. i was a tad defensive.”

luna glances over at both of you, grinning to herself before returning her attention to her youtube video. suddenly all is right in the world and she’s counting hours to your announcement that she is being sent to uncle oscar’s house to spend the day so you can hang out by yourself.

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