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#i feel like someone’s gonna get offended by this
lorarri · 2 days
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★ . . . 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐏 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 , 𝐋𝐍𝟒
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summary , when making a guest appearance on your youtube series chicken shop date you were surprised by how much you actually enjoyed his company and the rest was history
pairing , lando norris x fem! youtuber! reader
main masterlist | f1 masterlist | lando norris masterlist
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yourinstagram now playing: friday - riton, nightcrawlers, mufasa & hypeman
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liked by landonorris charles_leclerc 89,279,365 others
yourinstagram landonorris has my heart racing 🏎️ chickenshopdate out Friday !
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user Lando is literally perfect for this you don't understand
user brb need a pit stop you two are too good together ❤️‍🔥
user ICONIC collab 😮‍💨🙌🏽
user cold
charles_leclerc me next??? ⤷ landonorris no she mine ⤷ yourinstagram ummmmm since when sirrrr
user STOP STOP STOP IM SCREAMING!!!!!!!!
user He’s P1 in our hearts 😍🧡
user Get him some fish sticks
user ok song choice, you know what’s up
user can already hear his giggles
user Yeah, we needed this for sure
user IT'S FRIDAY THENNN 🕺
user Lando buzzing that he gets to eat a proper meal for once 😂
user At this point I don’t watch for the celebrities, I watch for Y/N.
user the capri sun is so iconic
user Weird, I’m jealous of a ketchup bottle
user BROOO IS THAT HOW IT FEELS TO GO ON A DATE WITH LANDOOO!???? cause im in
user We can’t gatekeep him anymore😭
user So this is what a date with Lando Norris is like?
user not him and charles beefing in the comments over Y/N 😭😭
user 😭 HOW 😭 DOES 😭 IT 😭 FEEL 😭 TO 😭 BE 😭 LIVING 😭 MY 😭DREAM 😭
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yourinstagram . 2hrs ago
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seen by landonorris maxverstappen1 57,279,364 others
landonorris replied to your story!
you love me really
no comment
yourinstagram
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yourinstagram The secret is out 💋 chickenshopdate with landonorris out now!
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user RUNNING TO WATCH RN
user Y/N if you don’t I will
user Please make out with every guest, okay thank you bye
user STOP SMILING MAN WHAT THE HECK HE IS SO CUTE
user “i’m down” fell to my knees in the grocery store
user LMFAOO the way she answered “playing hard to get” too😭😭😭😭
user The LIP BITE after the ‘even hotter if I was in there’ 😅😅😅 OH MY
user LMAO she still didn’t follow him back😭😭😭😭😭
user lmk when someone writes this fanfic pls
user Y/N. This man is in love with you.
user Man was offended by "thats why your not winning" 😭
user Nah because they’re cuteeeee together 😩😩
user Wow I think I might like this one more than the one with central cee 😭
user Freaking get married right now
user he’s so bashful loveeee
user best duo ever ahahahahaah so chaotic
user Wasn’t long enough!!!!! 😭😭
user Okay, now I need every F1 racer to do chicken shop date
user This is a real date
user Lmao, best crossover
user This is illegal 😭 too cute😍
user PLS HE COULDN'T EVEN STOP BLUSHING 😩😩😩
user Amelia, this is so darn cute, please just date him already
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Y/N L/N → LANDO NORRIS | CHICKEN SHOP DATE
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landonorris
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liked by yourinstagram carlossainz55 89,265,186 others
landonorris Gonna go get my appendix removed. Apparently you do it and you win a race soooooo…. congrats Carlitos 🌶️ #weightloss
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user CARLANDO. 🙏
yourinstagram Yay you were faster !!! 😍 xxx ⤷ landonorris all for you bae ⤷ user 😭💀 ⤷ user CSD effect💅 ⤷ user HELP HE WAS ⤷ user followed him back after getting on the podium 😂😂😂 ⤷ user it’s the power of love….🎶 ⤷ user more Y/N motivation 😍😍😍👏👏 ⤷ user FAV WAG 🥰 ⤷ user the most supportive gf for real ⤷ user not him calling her bae on the main
user What a duo 🔥
user Another Carlando podium….Another happy day 😁
user every racing driver about to go remove their appendix
user CARLANDO NATION! WE WON 🧡❤️
user All drivers take notes 📝 🤣🤣
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landonorris and yourinstagram . 4hrs ago
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seen by carlossainz55 charles_leclerc 79,394,579 others
charles_leclerc replied to yourinstagram story!
so is this still a no for that chicken shop date??
get lando's blessing and then we'll talk
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smoothies-are-cool · 21 hours
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all of me
part three of the bad idea series - part two
boyfriend! chris sturniolo x reader
summary: reader loses her cat and chris is with her always and then they go out on a date to distract her from the grief.
warnings: swearing, mentions of death, loss of a pet, pet names (baby, mama, sweetheart).
a/n: this song is so fucking good dude 👩‍🍳🤌💋
READERS POV
i drove to chris’ house in tears. my cat, annie had passed away. she had been my birthday present when i was 5 and i loved her unconditionally.
after i pulled into his driveway i practically ran to the door, knocking on it.
“hi ma- woah what’s wrong?” chris asks when he sees the state i’m in.
“annie passed a-away.” i hiccup, tears still falling down my cheeks.
“oh baby.” chris says, his face softening. he grabs my hand to pull me inside and he brings me down to his room. he quickly pulls me into him. my arms go around his torso and i hide my face in his chest.
after calming down i sit up. we had moved to sit on his bed so we could be more comfortable.
“i’m sorry i meant to shower before i came over here but i needed to see you.” i tell him, apologizing for my appearance.
“don’t apologize. even when you’re crying you’re beautiful too.” he comforts, pulling me back into him. my cheeks flush red, but luckily since my face was now in his neck he couldn’t tell.
2 weeks later
it’s been two weeks and i’ve been slowly feeling better. chris had been with me every step of the way. grief is always hard, even for animals.
me and chris we’re currently sitting on his bed. we were both silently scrolling on our phones, the sound of tangled playing in the background.
“mama?” he says, grabbing my attention.
“hm?” i hum, letting him know that i’m listening.
“i planned something for us later.” he tells me. i furrow my brows and turn off my phone.
“what’d you plan?” i ask, tilting my head to the side to show my confusion.
“it’s a surprise but you should be ready by 5:00.” he says, attempting to hide his smirk but he wasn’t doing a very good job.
“okay i will be.” i smiled softly.
i started getting ready at 5:00. it didn’t take too long since i had showered this morning so all i had to do was my makeup and get dressed. at 5:25 i walked out of chris’ bathroom to see him sitting on the edge of his bed.
“you ready?” i ask, putting my makeup bag on his gaming desk.
“woah, you look gorgeous.” chris compliments and i smile.
“thank you chris.” i blush.
“let’s go then, yeah?” he asks and i nod. “okay i’m gonna put the directions in your gps.”
“okay good because i don’t trust you to give directions.” i giggle softly as chris playfully looks offended.
“the beach?” i ask softly, putting my car in park.
“yeah come on.” chris said, getting out of the car. i quickly follow him and we walk down the beach.
“so i had matt, nick and madi all help me with this.” he says as we walk up to madi sitting on a blanket with snacks.
“hi madi baby. what’s happening?” i ask as madi stands up.
“someone had to sit with the blanket.” she smiles, hugging me.
“goodluck.” she whispers as she walks away. chris motions for me to sit down, as he sits down himself.
“me and matt went to the store yesterday and got all your favorites. him, nick and madi set it up earlier.” he explains, answering my questions before i could answer them.
“this is adorable. i want to cry.” i giggle softly.
“don’t cry. this is to make sure you don’t cry.” chris tells me, kissing my head.
“this is beautiful, chris. thank you.” i smile at him, grabbing the bag of watermelon sour patch kids.
“anything for you.” he says softly.
“okay so i do want to talk real quick.” chris tells me, causing me to sit up.
“i’m all ears.” i say, crossing my legs.
“i’ve liked you for a long time. like years. it feels very unreal that you’re mine.” he spoke, pausing and thinking for a second.
“not mine yet.” he corrects. i knew where he was going with this, and i already had my answer.
“okay let me get to the point. i really like you and i think you like me. so i was wondering if i could be your boyfriend?” he asks hesitantly. i knew he was nervous.
“yeah but only if it means i can be your girlfriend.” i giggle softly. he lets out a breath of relief.
“oh thank god. you have no idea how nervous i was.” he admits. i quickly pull him closer to me and kiss his lips.
“no more nervousness. come on, let’s have fun.” i tell him, standing up and running towards the water.
“wait you don’t have a bathing suit!” chris calls.
“who cares!!” i shout, running into the water and diving in once it was deep enough. when i resurface i see chris staring at me.
“you gonna join me or just stand there?” i ask, laughing. he shrugs and jumps into the water. me and chris playfully splash each other, nothing but smiles on our face.
a/n: i hope this lives up to the expectation because i know a few people wanted multiple parts. here’s the last one and i hope you love ittt 🫶🫶
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A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts and I fixed it up and decided to post it as a little blurb. Enjoy!
No mention of skin color, but the reader is the daughter of Sam Wilson!
Pairing: Peter Parker x samwilsondaughter!fem!reader
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“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Sam said, walking into the Avengers tower, holding the door open for everyone behind him.
“When do you ever think something is a good idea?” Bucky replied.
“All the time, all the time, but this one right here? Is not it.” Said Sam, as he walked further away from the group, and sat atop of a table.
“Well, this a great opportunity for the both of them.” Steve said.
“For what exactly?”
“Maybe they’ll bond over something and get close with one another.” Natasha replied, sitting next to Sam on the table.
“Yeah, and that’s what scares the hell outta me.” He responded and stood up from the table and began to pace.
Sam has always put an overprotective bubble, over (Y/N). Her being both his only daughter and child, he just wants the best for her. And (Y/N) sees that, but he doesn’t know that she’s losing the opportunity to be a teen.
She wants to go out with friends? It was a lovely day, until she caught him watching her and her friends through some bushes, with goggles and full on camouflage.
Yeah, now she only sees those friends during school hours.
Sleepover with the besties? Yeah, just ready for constant check ups and phone calls. He wants to know what you’re doing 24/7.
And suddenly those sleepover invitations get lost in the mail.
Don’t even get him started on dating. Sam will not allow it, until he’s ran an entire background check on the guy.
Now none of the guys at her school talk with her, everyone sees how protective he is of her. It’s sweet, but also completely unnecessary.
The door swung open as Peter ran inside trying to shove something into his backpack. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Wilson?” Peter asked, feeling nervous and on the verge of sweating.
“Oh, don’t be silly. Call me, ‘sir.’” Sam said, as Natasha game him a look, but he shrugged it off.
“I called you here, because I wanted you to meet someone. She should be here any moment.”
Not too long later, she walked inside the building and Sam immediately stood next to her. “Peter meet-”
“(Y/N)? Hey! How are you?” Peter says, as (Y/N) got closer to him and hugged him tight.
“Hey! I’ve been good!” They both smiled at each other, as they let go of one another, then they both looked away from each other, feeling embarrassed and flustered.
“Sooo.. you too already know each other?” Steve asked, and Peter was quick to answer.
“Yeah, I mean we,” Sam stared at him giving him a slight death glare. “We don’t actually, I don’t know her. Who are you again?” Peter said stumbling over his words, scratching the back of his head.
I rolled my eyes and stepped forward, “Peter and I met in school, he’s a good friend.” I smile at him, as Peter gave me a nervous smile.
“Good, that’s great! How about you two catch up and reminisce about, whatever things teens do these days. We have to have a quick talk with your dad, (Y/N).” Nat told me, I nodded and took Peter somewhere else in the tower.
Once they were out of earshot of everyone else, Peter let (Y/N) know just how nervous and frightened he was.
“He’s gonna kill me isn’t he? Like I know I offended him in some way so like, I might not wake up tomorrow, and-”
“Peter! Relax.. he won’t do anything to you. I promise.” I replied and Peter calmed down almost instantly, and took some deep breaths. “Hopefully..” I murmur to myself, underneath my breath.
“What??” Peter asked, clearly hearing what was said. I laughed running off and he began to chase me around.
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8rujaa · 8 days
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lesbians dont marry or fuck men thats like the whole point of lesbianism lmao
yes yes i agree i don’t think i said otherwise
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seariii · 8 months
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The argument for guilty/unforgiven Amane is not just to prevent her from hurting Shidou.
Sorry (⁠。⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠。⁠) I really don't intend to change your vote or anything, but it's been stressing me out that some people seem to believe that's it with our argument.
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Amane has "warned" Mahiru, which to me reads like a threat. Even if she couldn't actually kill Shidou, Mahiru here who is an easy target, who can't move properly, could easily be hurt or killed by her.
And on the other hand Amane doesn't have to kill Shidou, she just has to hurt him, and that could honestly be easy with a surprise and quick attack. She could incapacitate him and prevent him from giving health care to others. And this is important because Haruka is gonna try to kill himself, and he's gonna need urgent care afterwards.
And I've got a feeling some way or another we are gonna get some more people harmed in between t2 and t3.
So yeah we care about Shidou, but we care more about him being the only doctor and what that means to the others. That's why I posted this whole trial feeling like the trolley problem lol.
(there is also the argument that worries me the most that is Amane trying to convert Fuuta, but that's another post that someone else already made)
I love Amane and I honestly don't see her killing her abuser as something wrong, but she sees her murder as something supported by the cult. So I believe neither verdicts will be good for her, I feel since she got voted guilty on t1 she was doomed. But either way whether she ends up forgiven or unforgiven, I'll still be excited to see what happens next. I just don't like people missinterpreting our arguments.
So whether you are an inno or a guilty voter, don't forget to vote <3 and hope you all have a good day
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justablah56 · 5 days
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hmm I think instead of feeling bad I will simply project this bad onto The Character . for funsies .
#just blahs#not gonna do anything abt it bcs idk how i could but ovuehncke sparrow with scrupulosity ocd <3#just consider with me sparrow being terrified of accidentally saying anything wrong or offending literally anyone#and her completely accidentally saying smthin offensive and trying to figure out how to properly deal with that#without just making the whole situation about herself rather than the person she actually offended#bcs shes afraid that makes her a bad person who just didnt care enough to be aware of herself#gets a bit venty past this point but guys im literally pinky promising you rn I'm ok and ill figure it out please no one bring it up to me#and nobody think about the fact that im projecting rn just think about sparrow ok#this is my way of dealing w similar stuff w/o making it about me bcs ik that thats a shitty thing to do and i need to work it out myself#aughhncns literally every time goddamnit . i accidentally do smthin wrong and then someone (very kindly !!!) tells me hey that was wrong#and then i have a breakdown about it and feel bad and overthink it for the next like week#jesus fucking christ ok it's fine im being patient with myself and i know no one thinks im a bad person#and i know that they know i didnt mean it#and i know that i did say smthin insensitive and thats just something i have to be aware of#and the fact that i said it doesn't mean that im a terrible horrific irredeemable person#i'm trying my best now to be aware of it and be better and think abt whst they said and that's all i can do and thats ok#its fine .#anyways .#also hi cookies if you see this genuinely thank you for telling me tho like i do appreciate it and i am ok dw
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releaseholiday · 1 year
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2truehearts · 10 months
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ew what the fuck
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kenobihater · 2 months
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it's always rlly funny coming back from a break from this hellsite bc i usually accumulate followers in my months long absences, but as soon as i start posting my opinions and hottakes i lose like 10+ followers within a few days 🫶🏼
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lieutenantmongoose · 1 year
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Verse Info: Good and Faithful (or, a polite haunting) 
The Story - 
( Good and Faithful, Codifier )      -     In which Jopson died just before the 1839 expedition. He tends to avoid discussion of how it actually happened, but in any case he had just accepted the stewardship position and had been counting on those wages to pay the doctor for his mother’s treatment, and needed to ensure that she and Avery would be reasonably comfortable in his absence.  
Being that he had neither time nor inclination to be dead, and truthfully not quite even realizing he was dead, Jopson simply collected himself and carried on as usual, under the impression that the whole incident was simply a minor dizzy spell.
The issue, of course, with continuing to pilot one’s corporeal form with a severed connection between body and ghost, is that it’s somewhat akin to clutching a bedsheet in front of yourself while standing outside in a hurricane. And in addition to keeping hold of that bedsheet, you also have to hang up the rest of the laundry on the lines, and avoid letting your neighbors see that you’re out in a hurricane in nothing but a bedsheet still trying to finish your laundry, because odds are your neighbors will have Questions about this type of behavior. 
Fortunately, Jopson had always been quick to catch on to things so it was with only a minor bout of sudden collapses and fits of uncharacteristic clumsiness that he mostly got the hang of the situation before setting sail, and for the most part was able to avoid any trouble. 
Avoiding trouble lasted until a point about halfway through the expedition, when he very nearly frightened Captain Crozier into a similar state by forgetting to shiver. Or keep up a pulse. This almost led to a rather tender moment indeed as Crozier was quite unhappy to see him Dying, but this was abated by admitting to already having been quite dead from the beginning and thus unchanged in status despite what ought to have been a lethal case of hypothermia.
All in all, Crozier was actually rather more amenable to the idea of having a dead steward than he’d thought ten minutes prior, and all continued as normal. 
However
Once the Franklin Expedition begins
( Oh Dear, My Heart/The Moon Plays Host ) 
It turns out that keeping hold of the proverbial bedsheet is a lot more challenging under certain conditions, and there are only so many ‘fainting spells’ that can be got away with without arousing suspicion, and that the presence of a strange magic in the air tends to have interesting effects on ghosts improperly connected to the mortal plane.
It further turns out that this arrangement creates a bit of an impasse when faced with soul-devouring creatures. They are used to tackling a body and pulling the soul from it. The soul simply moving out of the way is not generally expected, and is regarded as highly inconvenient. 
Or, 
Jopson is a ghost during the Franklin Expedition, which is fine, except that improperly tethered ghosts start to get a little bit creature-y the longer they drift in seemingly-cursed landscapes trying to reject their souls like a bad transplant. Also, at night, Jopson can see the crew’s Dead still wandering the ice. 
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lilgynt · 9 months
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the idea of hannibal killing service workers i will be completely honest got me wanting to put a bullet in his skull more than will did when he got out of prison 😭
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cherrysnax · 10 months
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okay one last thing abt naruto, I rlly wanna read the manga but everyone and their mom says that once u do you’ll never go back to the show 😭
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sweet-as-an-angel · 3 months
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♡ Bimbo Barracks Bunny ♡
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Warnings: 18+, Smut, Rough Sex, Objectification, Dumbification, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Possessive! 141, Mean! 141, Manhandling, Slut-Shaming, Fem! Reader. ꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷
Expect a lot of objectification.
Manhandling, too.
And wolf whistling.
It’s absolutely constant when you’re with the 141 – especially considering you’re their 24/7 fuck toy.
More days than not, you’ll be subject to a rough and thorough pounding from one or more of your boyfriends, hear them tell you to “Take it, you stupid whore,” as they slam into you from behind, holding you down over the edge of a counter.
Slut-shaming is to be expected, too.
You can’t wear a single outfit in peace — especially if it’s a skirt or dress.
Someone’s sticking their hand up there on their way past and making a grab for whatever their hands can find purchase on.
Dumbification Central.
“Too fuckin’ stupid for your own good – need a big, strong man to tell you what to do, don’t you."
They’ll buy you things to make up for their roughness with you if (when) they see you limping after an encounter with them. Ghost’s the main offender in this case; for what he can’t convey through words, he does through gifts. And what scandalous gifts they can be.
He especially likes dressing you up like his doll, buying you things he knows will fit you, things that will make it so much harder for him to resist the urge to ravage you whenever you bend over or come and sit on his lap.
They call you ‘Princess’ ‘Bunny’ 'Kitty' ‘Pretty girl’, or (Price’s favourite) ‘Daddy’s girl.’
They definitely smack your backside all the time, btw. The second they see the chance, they’ll pounce on it – on you – reeling back and slapping your ass.
The yelp you make when you feel the sharp sting is just too cute to pass up, as is the wounded, wide-eyed look you give them.
They also love showing their ownership over you: marking you up for the next man to see when he tears your dress off or pushes your skirt up, only to see that someone else has ruined you first (usually with their cum still oozing out of you, too).
Price is the most extreme — he has a crippling breeding kink and it shows.
More often than not, he’ll bend you over his desk and pull your hips as close to his as humanly possible, trying to get as deep inside you as he can.
“My girl, only good for takin’ my cock and havin’ my kids – gonna make me into a real daddy, hm?”
Entertain his kink for even a second and he’ll make sure you’re not going anywhere even after he’s done with you; he has to keep you plugged up and make sure his seed takes, after all.
Ghost loves to steal you away and throw you over his shoulder when he’s needy.
He’s like a caveman in the way he throws you onto the nearest surface without ceremony and tears your clothes off, spreading your legs and pressing his clothed bulge against your cunt.
He growls, too. Makes you squeal when he grips your panties by the bridge and tears them off, leaving you exposed and ready for him to use as much he likes.
He treats you as his personal cum bucket, emptying his load into you as many times as he pleases, using you.
“Good-for-nothing slut, just beggin’ to be chased down and fucked in that tight little outfit. Did’ya think I wouldn’t notice? Practically had your arse hangin’ outta your skirt, just waitin’ to have your guts rearranged by me.”
Soap’s a menace - a cruel one - and takes his time with you, edges you, makes sure that foreplay drags on for a good hour or two before actually stuffing his girth inside you (given he has the time).
He likes to make you nice and desperate – likes to have you begging for him and eating out of his hand before he’ll entertain the idea of letting you take him.
“Think ya deserve it, lass? Think ya deserve to have me fuck whatever thoughts you’ve got rollin’ round in that empty head a’ yer’s out?”
He’ll grin down at you as you pant and plead, shutting you up by making you suck his fingers.
“Well, if ye have any thoughts in there.”
Gaz is the gentlest of the 141, but any man is subject to a power shift. Especially against someone they perceive as less intelligent than them.
And you’re no exception.
Gaz is the most likely to experience post-nut clarity, realising (and feeling immediate shame for) the way he spoke to you, the way he called you his “Fucking slut with no other purpose except to get me off,” was potentially hurtful to you.
Literally will not forgive himself – he’ll apologise, buy you things, hang his head in shame until you manage to (eventually) convince him that it’s alright, that you don’t mind, and that you actually enjoy when he turns a bit feral.
As do they all.
They’ll pimp you out to König sometimes, too. But only if they can sit in and watch supervise.
There’s something just so disgustingly satisfying about watching you get your insides visibly rearranged by the 6’10 Austrian – especially when they can see the heavy bump of his cock in your stomach, making you cry out with every slam of his tip against your cervix.
“Scheiße– where’d you find this pretty little thing, Ghost? Didn’t think you were allowed prostitutes on base,”
He’s just as – if not more – mean than the 141. Especially if you cum before he does.
Doesn’t matter if you tell him you’re overstimulated, he’s still going to get his release, whether you like it or not.
“Shut it, Brat – you’ll take my cock for as long as I want you to. Keep whining and I’ll choke you with it.”
You’ll receive no help from the 141. Not when they’re on the precipice of an orgasm, at least.
Ghost will even goad König, telling him to show you who’s boss, to shove it in deeper – wanna see her cry.
You always end up covered in cum afterwards, panting while your cunt leaks with König’s semen, the clink of the man responsible’s belt in your periphery as he sorts himself out.
You’re always very well taken care of afterwards, though. Bath, bed, and plenty of rest, with as much food as you could want. And a cuddle session, of course.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
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lilahisntsadanymore · 6 months
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Growing up with a deatheater father doesn't teach you much about emotions, so when Theo finds himself developing an infatuation with a muggle-born, he thinks she gave him a love potion.
Pairing: Theo Nott x granger!fem!reader
Words count: 1.9k
Warnings: jealous Harry
There is a 2nd part!! <3
≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪
Unveiled Desires
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It was strange to him. So strange how he went from mocking, annoying and occasionally bullying her every step she takes to secretly wanting her. Wanting to have her, or even needing her.
He didn't know how or when it happened, but one day he realized she was constantly in his head. It creeped up on him in small steps and eventually he had developed an infatuation for the girl.
Of course nobody knew about it, Theo wouldn't dare telling anyone. He just kept with his antics, hoping the obsession will somewhat disappear one day. Unfortunately, the more he tried to get rid of this feeling, the more he gave it power, the more it grew.
But he couldn't be with her. He couldn't be with a mudblood.
But he wanted to be with her. The more he thought about it, the less he cared about the blood status. He cursed at himself for these thoughts. Raised by a deatheater father, he would get disowned for dating anyone who wasn't a pureblood.
"Granger, can I talk to you for a second?" A question left his mouth as he approached the Golden Trio. Who was better to talk to about Y/n than her older sister?
The three Gryffindors looked at Theo as if he wasn't good in the head. Just casually wanting to have a chat, a normal chat, with someone outside of his social circle. Pretty unusual for a Slytherin.
"What is it?" Harry asked protectively.
"I was talking to Granger. I need to talk privately."
Hermione looked at Harry and Ron, exchanging suspecting glances. Eventually she spoke, "Alright, but make it quick."
"Great, let's go." Theo started walking, but Hermione stood in her place.
"Where are you going?"
"Somewhere they," he gestured to Harry and Ron, "aren't gonna eavesdrop."
Hermione crossed her arms on her chest, a knowing expression on her face.
Theo raised his hands, "It's not a trap again, I swear."
The girl sighed and walked after her rival.
Hermione and Theodore weren't fond of each other not only because of their houses and their blood statuses, but also because they were academic rivals. Both of them were extremely competitive. Since first year they aspired to be better than one another in pretty much everything.
"Can we stop already?" The girl asked. "I'm pretty sure they won't ear us from here."
"Alright, alright." Theo agreed. "But I need you to promise me you won't tell anybody about it."
"Why me? Why would you trust a Gryffindor with keeping a secret for you?"
Theo lowered his voice to a whisper, "Because it's about your sister."
"What?!" Hermione's voice was the opposite of a whisper. "What have you done to her?!"
The boy gestured telling her to lower her voice. "No, I didn't do anything. She has done...something."
"What on Earth could that possibly be?" A little more quiet, but still unpleasantly surprised, she decided to listen to him.
One last time, Theo looked around to make sure there's nobody there who could be a witness to what he was about to say.
"She used some spell on me." He accused. "Or put something in my food, my drink."
Hermione scoffed with laughter. "You must be joking. You bully her for whole five years, but one time she pays you back for it, it's an issue?"
"Not like that." He took a second to gather his thoughts. "Granger, do you remember how we learnt about amortentia few weeks ago? I think Y/n gave it to me."
Hermione started at the boy for a moment and then burst out with laughter. Y/n wasn't the issue, there was no way a fifth year would be able to make amortentia. Not even Y/n Granger.
Theodore felt annoyed and offended by Hermione's reaction. He looked at her with disgust. "What is so funny to you about it, mu-, Granger?"
Noticing how he almost called her a slur, her expression immediately became serious. "Seriously? You know what, deal with it by yourself. I don't even know why you're telling me all of this."
"Why? Because you have to talk to her, tell her to do something about it! Tell her to stop it!"
Hermione got a brilliant idea.
"You know, I've heard professor Slughorn had a remedy for amortentia."
"Yeah, and I'll end up in the hospital wing like Weasley."
"It was poisoned mead, not the amortentia cure itself. You can ask him to make one from the ingredients in the classroom."
"I will," Theo scoffed, "look at you being useful for the first time in your life."
Without another word, Hermione walked away. "Boys..." She muttered to herself.
"Don't tell anyone I told you this!"
≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪
"What?! He likes me?!" Y/n asked with blush on her face. "Theodore Nott likes me? The boy that has been bullying me for the past five years?"
"And the thinks it's because you gave him amortentia." Hermione giggled.
Y/n wouldn't ever think that he could be into her and the whole story that her sister had told her was simply unbelievable. But Hermione had no business in lying to her very own little sister, especially not about that.
"Does anyone else know about this?"
"Not yet, but I talked him into asking Slughorn for the cure! I suppose he'll do this tomorrow after class, as soon as possible."
"Who are you and what have you done to my sister?"
The girls were sitting alone in the common room and as Y/n laughed, Ron and Harry walked in.
"What are you two laughing about?" Harry asked, ready to hear that story.
"Can I tell them?" Hermione looked at Y/n. The younger Granger nodded. "Nott likes Y/n."
The girls and Ron laughed, meanwhile Harry stood there with his lips in a thin line, far away from laughing.
"The best part is," Hermione continued, "he thinks Y/n gave him amortentia!"
"What?" Harry spoke eventually, his voice a bit more surprised than it should be. "Y/n, did you give amortentia to Nott?"
"No, why would you accuse me of this?!" The youngest girl defended herself. "Is it that unbelievable that he can fancy me?"
"I mean... You're a muggleborn... And-"
"And what?! Does that mean I'm not worthy of that? We don't know him, maybe he doesn't believe in this whole blood purity thing."
"He does. That's why he hasn't asked you out. And he never will. Because they're all the same."
Y/n's eyes became a little glossy, the tears ready to start flowing anytime. "Are they, though? And you're saying this. You, whose godfather was Sirius Black."
"Sirius was different!"
"We don't know because we don't know what Theo is like!"
"Theo? It was Nott for the past few years that he was tormenting you," Harry put an emphasis on the word bullying, "now he fancies you and he becomes Theo?"
"I would actually give him a chance. It's not his fault that he was born into a blood purity obsessed family."
"Don't you think that's a little pathetic? Running into his hands the moment you find out he might fancy you meanwhile you had chances to date...other Gryffindors."
"Pathetic? You call me pathetic?"
"I didn't call you pathetic, I said what you do is-"
A sound of a slap filled the room, but the following silence spoke even louder. Y/n looked Harry in the eyes, a light red mark on his cheek that her hand left.
Harry could see and sense that it was too much, he said unnecessary words. He regretted them, but he just couldn't stop them from coming out.
The Golden Trio watched Y/n run upstairs. She was so glad nobody else was in the bedroom yet.
≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪
"Excuse me, professor," Theo walked up to Slughorn after the class on the following day.
All the other students were slowly exiting the room, Harry's eyes fixed on the Slytherin standing by the teacher's desk.
"Yes, Theodore?" Slughorn asked. "Do you have some more bright insights you'd like to share with me?" He was clearly happy to have this conversation.
"I actually need help, professor."
The man's expression dropped. "Yes? Do you have a problem?"
"I'm worried that I've been given amortentia."
Slughorn's eyes widened. He was surprised or even shocked. "Are you sure? I remember seeing other people under the influence of several love potions and you don't quite match the criteria."
"There's this girl who I can't stop thinking about... I suspect she has given it to me."
"Who that might be?"
Theo waited until all the other students exit the classroom before he said the name.
"Y/n Granger."
Y/n stopped in her tracks just as he was about to enter the potions classroom. She was about to show the teacher a part of her project, wanting to consult the texts she has written. Instead, she stopped and decided to listen to the conversation.
"Ah, she's one of the best students in her year," Slughorn said proudly, "but I assure you - she wouldn't do that to you."
"How can you be sure, professor?"
"Well, could you describe your symptoms, Theodore?"
"Whatever I do, Y/n is on my mind," the boy admitted, "I can't eat, I can't sleep, I zone out thinking about her. It's not normal, I've never experienced it before."
The teacher gave his student a sympathetic smile. "My dear boy, you might be experiencing the actual feeling of being in love."
"What? And how could it have been caused? Was it a love potion, after all? Maybe a spell?"
"It's a part of muggle science, biology. The chemicals in your brain cause it and it's not something you can control. It happens when it happens. A truly beautiful feeling."
Theo's mouth twisted into a dissatisfied grimace. "Is there anything I can do about it?"
"You can talk to the girl about it, for example," Slughorn looked at the door and shouted, "come in, Y/n!"
Y/n cursed to herself in her thoughts. How could he know she was there?
The girl walked in shyly, holding a paper in her hands. "I wanted to show you my paper, professor," the girl spoke, "if there's anything you think I should change or... anything."
As the girl handed the paper to the teacher, she looked at Theo. They stood dangerously close to each other. The silence between the was so loud, Y/n was praying for the teacher to say something. Anything.
"Amazing, Mrs Granger," he spoke eventually, "although the Draught of Living Dead is an extremely difficult potion to make. I'm glad you're so ambitious, but I'd suggest you get help from someone more experienced."
"I'm pretty sure I can do it on my own." Y/n assured.
"Maybe Mr. Nott here could help you. The sixth year has been just learning about this potion, actually. Theodore, would you be so kind and help Mrs Granger?"
Suddenly, Theo's gaze somewhat softened. There was no more disgust in his eyes. When he stood so close to Y/n, he wondered why did he act the way he did. Why did he do all the mean things to her. Maybe he had always liked her, but didn't want to admit it, even to himself alone.
"Yes, sure," he said, "I can help."
Y/n felt happy. For some reason, she didn't dislike Theo for all the things he did. She secretly always liked him, he was attractive, and she would even sometimes daydream about the day he would finally talk to her like a normal person. Maybe the day has finally come.
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deadsetobsessions · 13 days
Text
Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.6
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.7]
Danny slumped over the table at the library. He’d feel embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the rest of the floor’s occupants. Around him, students were speed running through the five stages of grief like it was going out of style.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”
“Same.” Danny replied, rolling his head to look at Tim. “I’m feeling like an academic victim instead of an academic weapon right now.”
“I should have stayed dropped out of school,” Tim grumbled.
Danny gasped theatrically. “And deprive the world of your awe-inspiring genius on…” Danny peered at Tim’s books and grinned. “On… the Krebs cycle? Seriously? They’re teaching that again?”
“I know! This is like, the third time.” Tim whined.
“At least you’ll be good at it, right?”
Tim scoffed. “I’m gonna drop out of college and become a stripper.”
“They do make bank,” Danny nodded. “But aren’t you like a millionaire or something?”
Tim brightened. “Oh, you’re right. I don’t need education! I’m filthy rich!”
Danny whacked Tim on the back of the head, laughing quietly.
“Whatever. Let’s go take a break. Snacks?”
“I literally don’t know how you eat so much.”
“Snacks have a separate stomach pouch. Normal food goes one place, junk food and desserts in another.” Danny retorted, quickly packing up his stuff. In reality, he didn’t need that much food. He’s half dead, after all. But food also converts to ectoplasm in his body, and ancients knows Danny needs all the energy he could get.
They made their way out of the campus library, passing stressed out looking students on their way to a taco truck.
“Does this even count as a snack?” Tim asked, amused. He tugged on his book bag, readjusting the vigilante pins on them.
“Is the sky even blue?” Danny snarked back, forking over the cash needed for the best fucking tacos on this side of Gotham. They sat on the benches, asking for an obscene amount of extra lime and cilantro before going to town.
“Holy shit, how many of those can you eat?”
“Dunno,” Danny mumbled though a mouthful or carne asada and pico de gallo. “Hungry.”
Tim snorted, pulling out his phone to scroll as he ate. A moment later, Tim showed Danny his screen.
“Hey, you live near here, right?”
Danny, cheeks bulging with food, peered at Tim’s phone and nodded.
“Oh, cool! Have you seen the green guy around?”
Danny squinted at Tim, tilting his head as he chewed.
“You know, the glowing green guy that’s been blowing up the Gotham Bay tag.”
Oh. Tim was talking about him, Danny!
Danny nodded. He quickly ate his food and wiped his mouth before replying. “Yeah, why?”
“Does he seriously just clean up the bay? Nothing else?”
Mildly offended for some reason, Danny shrugged. “I mean yeah? He doesn’t seem to pop up near any of the shady spots- oh, I saw him save someone from a mugging in front of my apartment once! But like, I think all he does is clean the bay. Which is good, because holy heck, that place is nastyyy.”
“Seriously?” Tim leaned in, looking super interested. “So he’s friendly?”
Danny raised a brow. “Yeah, he seemed pretty nice, I guess. Though, that’s not saying much considering your Rogues tend to be pretty chill when they’re not in the middle of a scheme.”
Tim snorted. “True that. You talked to him? When? Outside of his bay cleanings, right? I’ve noticed that he only talks to the Bats during those.”
Danny stared at Tim. “Tim… are you… stalking the guy?”
What Danny really wanted to say was: “Tim, are you stalking me?”
“I’m not stalking him!” At Danny’s suspicious glare, belied by his sauce stained mouth, Tim sighed. “Okay, maybe I am. But only some minor stalking!”
“Uh-huh.”
“But if you have, you think you could introduce us? Maybe he’d want to be friends?”
Was Tim asking Danny to introduce him to… Danny himself?
“Uh. Why do you even want to meet him?”
“Danny, he’s a glowing green guy that does community service for funsies. And he knows the Bats. That’s cool.”
“And here I thought you wouldn’t know cool if it smacked you in the face.” Danny teased. Well, whatever. He might as well do something nice for Tim. “Sure. I’ll text you when he pops up and see if he’s okay with meeting you.”
Tim grinned at him, a piece of cilantro stuck in his teeth. “Thanks!”
——
Danny made a duplicate of himself and went ghost. Danny and his duplicate looked at each other and sighed.
“We’ve done stupider things.”
“But we’re still not telling Jazz.”
“Agreed.”
Danny paused. Did he just make a deal with himself? No, he’s busy.
Doppelgänger Danny went invisible and left the apartment by going through a wall. Danny followed in a sedate pace, the normal way.
Outside, he pretended to catch sight of a suddenly visible Phantom. He’d heard the heartbeats outside his apartment ever since he got home all those days ago, and he’s pretty sure the vigilantes were watching his place ever since. Luckily, he made sure there weren’t any bugs or hidden cameras- Sam beat cautiousness into his head a while ago- before starting the plan.
One of those heartbeats sounded like Tim’s which left some… interesting connotations.
Danny sighed. Who was he kidding? Of course he’d be friends with a vigilante.
“Hey, Phantom!” Danny shouted, waving. Phantom floated over.
“Danny. Hi. Did you need something?”
“Oh, not really. My friend wanted to meet you, he’s a huuuuge fan. Think you’ve got time today?” Danny held up his phone.
Phantom hummed. “I can stay for a bit. Thirty minutes.”
“Okay, I’ll call him. His name is Tim, by the way. Thanks for taking the time to meet him!”
“No problem.”
Danny texted Tim, and minutely frowned as he picked up the sound of Tim’s ringtone. Shit, that pretty much confirmed his suspicions. He got a text back from Tim.
Timsy
[5 nin]
Nin
Nin
Nin
Min
Danny huffed an amused breath. “He’ll be here in five minutes.”
“Alright.”
Danny texted back an okay.
Five minutes later, a flushed and disheveled Tim peeled onto the street and right to the curb.
“Here!” He said as he tumbled out of the car.
“Damn, bro. You good?”
“Fine- oh my god, you’re the green guy!” Danny had to hand it to Tim. If he didn’t already figure out he was Red Robin, Danny would’ve believed the act. Holy shit, wait, he called his friend broke. Hah!
“It’s Phantom. Nice to meet you, Tom.”
A quick sliver of sullenness flashed over Tim’s face. “It- it’s Tim.”
“Oh, right. Sorry, human names sound so similar.” Danny leaned back and hid a grin as his doppelgänger messed with his friend.
“Oh, wow, you’re not human? What are you then?”
“Oh my god, Tim, you can’t just ask him what he is!” Danny scolded. These vigilantes were really similar.
“Sorry…” Tim apologized.
“It’s fine. To answer your question, I’m dead. Ghost.”
“Do you really pay taxes?”
Phantom tilted his head. “Yes, of course.” By the, Danny meant that he paid both human taxes and oversaw the Zone’s taxes. “You know that saying, something about never escaping from two things and that’s taxes and death? You can escape death- might come back a little wrong- but taxes are in the afterlife too.”
“Come back a little wrong?” Tim asked, eyes suddenly sharp.
“Come back a little,” Phantom gestured to himself. “Green. More emotive and prone to irritation.”
Tim stared.
——
“Jason, are you a ghost?” Dick, crouched on the top of Danny’s apartment building whispered.
Red Hood, crouched in the same area, stayed silent.
——
“How did you die?”
Phantom snarled and disappeared.
Tim whirled around, looking bewildered. Behind him, Danny struggled to stay calm.
“Where’d he go?”
“He probably didn’t want to hurt you.” Danny sighed.
“What? What did I do?”
“You asked him how he died. That’s like, the ultimate social taboo.”
“I didn’t know that!”
“It’s common sense, dude. Trauma like that has to be shared instead of asked about. Generally.” Danny sighed. “Come on, let’s get off the street and I’ll give you a crash course in manners.”
——
Bruce, upon hearing about the conversation, dove headfirst into researching the after life.
“No, go suck a goat’s genitals, Batsy, I am not helping you adopt a being of the infinite realms!” Constantine hung up on him.
“Hn.” Bruce will adopt the child and give him a home. It’s only a matter of when… and what inter-dimensional loopholes he could find and use in the relevant laws.
Jason was right behind him, because he was going to get answers, dammit.
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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months
Text
light of the morning
in which spencer sneaks into bau!reader's hotel room and they share a little more than just the bed
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom!spence x sub reader, munch!spence, unprotected piv sex (dont do that), creampie (hate that word btw) praise, mentions of having to be quiet because morgan is right next door LOL, fluffy, established co-workers/friends with benefits, soooo idiots in love a/n: here is the promised smut. i am literally kicking my feet and twirling my hair and giggling and blushing at my own writing. I'm gonna have a freak out. requests are open like my legs
It’s late when the knock finally comes. Late enough that you’re dozing on the bed above the covers. 
It takes you a moment to reorient yourself—you’re rubbing your heavy eyes when you finally get the door. 
"Hi."
"Hey," says Spencer, hands awkwardly shoved into his pajama pants pockets. It’s funny, really. He never gets any better at this. 
You step aside and he enters the room, looking around as you close and relock the door. 
"Did I wake you?"
"How could you tell?"
"You’re in pajamas. And you look tired. I mean—you don’t look bad. You never look bad, I just meant… you don’t look tired but you’re not—I didn’t mean to—"
"Relax," you yawn, putting him out of his misery. "I was joking. I know I look tired." You glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. "It’s late. We have to be up early tomorrow."
"Yeah, I got, uh, sidetracked. Sorry."
He was reading. If it was anyone else, you'd be offended--but a sinkhole could open up under Spencer's feet and he probably wouldn't notice if he was absorbed in a book.
You shrug, a knowing smile lifting the corner of your mouth. 
"It’s fine. But I don’t know if tonight is a good night. I really am exhausted."
His eyebrows dart up. 
"That’s fine. That’s totally fine. I’ll just, uh—"
When you don’t move from in front of the door, he pauses, unsure. You bite the inside of your cheek, studying his rangy frame and choice of clothing. Blue pajama pants, slippers, grey CalTech zip up hoodie. It feels wrong to describe a 6'1 man as adorable, but that’s how he looks in his sleep clothes. There’s a very real chance, you find yourself thinking, that you are the only member of the BAU to ever see him in something other than slacks and a button-down. He looks so cozy that you kind of really want him in your bed even if he’s not doing anything but sleeping. The invitation slips out before you can think too hard about it. 
"You could… stay, anyway, if you want?"
His mouth parts slightly, and those eyebrows raise again. There’s a moment of awkward silence and you are very much beginning to regret your offer, wondering if you somehow violated the sanctity of your co-workers/friends with benefits situtationship. Clumsily you try to backtrack. 
"Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, you can—"
"No, no! You didn’t, I just don’t want you to feel obligated to invite me to stay in your room. I’m right across the hall, I can go back if you want me to."
You smile awkwardly, silent relief replacing the brief anxiety. 
"It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before." And not like you wouldn’t have ended up doing it tonight anyway, if things had gone as originally intended.
He chuckles, looking to the floor and nodding. The blush on his face does not go unnoticed by you. "Fair enough."
It’s incredibly endearing how nervous he still gets after six months of this little arrangement. 
"Do you wanna get your stuff, or…"
"No, that’s okay. I’ll just go back early tomorrow. The chances of someone seeing me leave your room are significantly higher if I do it so soon after entering."
You squint, unable to tell if he’s fucking with you or if that’s an actual statistically sound probability. And then you realize, blissfully, that you don’t really care. 
"Okay, well. Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to brush my teeth."
Once you’re enclosed in the bathroom, hotel vanity lights blinding you as you brush, you find that there is a jittery sort of apprehension buzzing in your chest. But that’s silly. As you yourself pointed out, the two of you have shared a bed many times over the past few months. But the sleeping together is always a byproduct of the sleeping together. Never have you shared a bed in a completely decent, virtuous, strictly non-sexual manner. It’s always been a matter of convenience—less bother if he doesn’t have to worry about sneaking back into his room in the middle of the night when you’re both exhausted. Or maybe that’s just what you’ve been telling yourselves. 
You rinse your mouth out and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and finding that Spencer has indeed made himself comfortable. The hotel room is dark and he’s already under the covers, fiddling with his phone. 
"What time should I set the alarm for?" He asks, looking over at you as you crawl into bed, drawing the covers over yourself. "I was thinking 6:23. That should give me enough time to—"
"Sounds perfect," you affirm, wiggling under the blanket as you get comfortable. He schedules the alarm and sets his phone on the bedside table, dousing the room in complete darkness. Your eyes stay open despite, waiting for them to adjust. A few moments of utter silence and stillness pass, and you can tell Spencer is completely stiff next to you. 
"Spencer."
“Yeah,” he answers immediately. Like he’s even more wired about this whole situation than you are. 
"You know you don’t have to avoid touching me at all costs, right? I’m not a leper."
He looses a nervous laugh. 
"I know. We’ve just never really done this."
You frown at the darkness.
"We’ve definitely slept in the same bed before."
"Yeah, but… this feels different."
That, you can’t argue with. Can friends with benefits share a bed just to be near each other? Does that blur some line? And why does it feel more intimate than the sex? 
Screw it. If there is one thing you don’t want your relationship with Spencer to be, it is uncomfortable. Uncertain, you can work with. But not uncomfortable. You reach for him, hand sliding under the duvet—and find his hand already waiting for yours. 
"I don’t think it’s that different," you lie, interlacing your fingers together slowly. 
"Prolonged physical non-sexual contact does have measurable health benefits…" the words are murmured, like the moment is fragile and he doesn’t want to shatter it. 
"Can’t argue with the facts," you breathe, trying to modulate the shakiness of your voice. But you have a feeling you’re doing about as good of a job at concealing your nerves as he is. He shifts.
"Can I…"
"Yeah."
Your heart is pounding as he slips one arm under your neck and the other around your waist, pulling you close. Instinctually you curl into him, slinging your top leg over him as you’ve done before, but always dismissed as post-sex brain chemicals making you feel all warm and fuzzy. A neurological reaction that is so solidly scientific, neither of you ever questioned it. But it feels bigger now. 
He exhales as you settle against each other—a sound of relief that mirrors your own. He’s so warm, so safe as he envelops you, physically and sensorially. In such close proximity, so clear-headed, you notice each layer of his scent. Toothpaste, lavender, vetiver, detergent. You sort of feel like a creep, but you can’t deny how comforting it is. Nor can you deny the pirouette your heart does when he begins minutely rubbing your back, like he’s not even thinking about it. 
"Goodnight," you whisper into his shirt. 
"Goodnight," he whispers back. 
You fall asleep pretty quickly after that. 
------------------------------
It’s unclear what wakes you up—maybe it’s the blue-grey dawn light filtering in through the filthy window (doubtful, it’s still mostly dark) or maybe it’s the blinking green digital clock on the nightstand. 5:02 AM. Your alarm will go off in an hour and 21 minutes.
Sometime in the night you shifted, turning over in your sleep, but Spencer is still holding you close. The arm slung so casually over your waist is slightly domineering, but you manage to rotate again and face him once more. Mere inches away from his face you can see every detail. His expression is so peaceful, it makes your heart ache. 
But you’re just friends. 
Perhaps he felt you moving, because his eyes flutter open and you watch as they flood with consciousness. He takes you in, takes in his arm over your waist. For a split second you’re nervous he’ll pull away. 
"What time is it?" His voice is scratchy with sleep. 
"Five."
"Why are you awake? We have over an hour til the alarm goes off."
"Sometimes waking up early is okay."
His eyes flicker between your own, and momentarily you’re paralyzed as you realize this is a limbo state for the two of you in which you’ve never operated. You don’t know what’s acceptable. You don’t know what to do. Being close to him feels so good, that the idea of separating hurts. But you don’t want to make him uncomfortable, or—
He leans forward and kisses you softly. In the blue light of dawn, rather than frenzied and hidden in the dark, a desperate tear of clothes and teeth and hands—it’s almost freeing. All the anxiety you were feeling just seconds ago begins to melt. 
Friends. 
"You looked anxious," is his whispered answer after he pulls away a moment later, like a kiss is the simplest remedy in the world. He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. "We should go back to sleep."
"I don’t want to go back to sleep."
The corner of his mouth twitches as he studies you.  
"No? What do you want?"
Emboldened by your mutual indiscretion, it’s your turn to kiss him. You feel him smile against your lips, hand finding the back of your neck and raking up through your hair to pull you closer. 
The delirium of sleep seems to have softened you, filed down the rough edges of your boundaries and kicked away the lines in the sand. What’s a kiss or two when you’ve just woken up? A small, innocuous display of affection while you’re still barely conscious. Nobody could fault either of you for that. People don’t think clearly when they’ve just been asleep.
So what if your lips part against his, and his other hand finds its way under your shirt to stroke the bare skin of your waist and hips? So what if you hitch that leg over him again and press closer?
Spencer breaks the kiss, still ghosting over your lips. 
"I thought it wasn’t a good night?"
"It’s not night time anymore, is it, genius?"
You sneak another kiss, nipping his bottom lip gently as you pull away. 
Instead of whatever array of responses you were expecting, Spencer smiles slightly, eyes almost sparkling in the faint light. The hand on your hip moves to your face, gently thumbing across your cheek. He begins to say something, and stops himself—biting his lip to hold back the words. 
"What?" you ask, heart dropping. Illusion fracturing. 
"I was just—" he begins, pausing for a moment before the words all come out in a rush. "I was just going to tell you how beautiful you are, but I don’t know if that’s something I should say, or if it would feel too… I don’t know…"
He trails off. A rare instance in which he doesn’t have the words. 
You do. Intimate. Real. Romantic. And he’s right, it does feel too much like all of those things. But that doesn’t mean you don’t like it, perhaps more than is strictly good for you. 
"It’s fine. Thank you."
He continues chewing on his lip for a moment. 
"Did I just ruin the mood?"
"No," you laugh, "not at all."
"Thank god," he sighs, surging forward again. 
"Since when do you thank god?" You manage between kisses. 
He moves to press his lips to your jaw and down your neck. 
"Do you want me to talk about the historical and cultural transition of religious expressions into ubiquitous secular colloquialisms right now?"
"Kind of," you breathe.
"No you don’t," he murmurs against your neck as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "You want me to take your clothes off."
Well, he’s not wrong there. 
You help him tug the shirt over your head before leaning back into the pillows as he situates himself over you and lavishes more kisses down your neck and collarbones, pausing to suck a mark only when he knows it’s low enough to be covered by your clothing later. 
You gasp when his lips brush over your nipple, before running his tongue over the sensitive skin. He glances up at you, and though his mouth is occupied, you can see the humor in his eyes. He loves how sensitive you are—how easy it is to get a reaction out of you. 
Of course, you continue to prove him right when he takes the other into his mouth, trying to hold back your little whimpers as he darts his tongue over the peak. Maybe somebody else wouldn’t hear them, but Spencer does. He’s hyper attuned to the sounds you make. Something of a catalogue has begun to form in the back of his mind; he knows exactly what each noise means and how to get them out of you. 
Once satisfied, he moves to press a kiss to your sternum. 
"You’re gonna be quiet for me, right?" Another kiss above your bellybutton. "Because Morgan is sleeping right on the other side of that wall, and we don’t want to wake him up."
"I’ll be quiet," you promise, somewhat breathlessly. Spencer’s mouth trails lower until he’s pulling your shorts down your legs, leaving you completely naked. He tosses them somewhere on the floor and hooks your legs over his shoulders. 
"Good." He plants one last kiss to your thigh and the next one lands right between your legs. 
You regret the need to be silent almost as soon as he drags his tongue over your clit. It’s not like the two of you have ever had the privilege of making a lot of noise, as the hotel rooms are always so close to each other, but it doesn’t make it any easier. 
Instead you opt to rake your hands through his hair and try to take deep breaths. But he knows exactly what you like—he knows starting light and slow, teasing around your most sensitive spot will work you up to the brink of insanity, just like he knows gentle circles make your back arch and elicit the prettiest little moans. 
"More," you beg, and the hands wrapped around your thighs rub soothingly, reassuring you that if you can just be patient you’ll get what you want. 
He takes your aching clit into his mouth, sucking lightly and you’re forced to clap a hand over your mouth, muffling the sob of pleasure you can’t hold back. Spencer keeps it up until you’re practically riding his face, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his tongue when you get too close. 
"Fuck, please, Spence," you whisper through your fingers, hips rutting in your desperation. Somehow it always ends up like this—with him in charge and you begging. Not that you have a problem with it, of course. 
He hums into you, and if the way his tongue moves back to circling your clit with newfound fervor is any indication, is apparently satisfied with your entreaty. 
You gasp and try to control your breathy moans, but his mouth feels so good on you that your vision is going out and you’re losing touch with reality ever so slightly. You use the last of your brain power to bite down on the back of your wrist, hoping it adequately muffles the noises you make as you come on Spencer’s tongue and he greedily continues lapping at you. There’s really no way of knowing—your ears are ringing anyway. 
When you come to a moment later he’s peppering kisses on your thighs, rubbing your hips gently. 
"So pretty," he murmurs, climbing back up so your lips can meet again. "Everything about you is pretty."
You paw at his shirt, signaling that you want it off as you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue, feel your slippery arousal staining the kiss. Spencer helps you, sitting up briefly to unzip his hoodie and pull off his shirt. 
You’re the one to drag him back down, and you notice that he pulls the covers back over the both of you in a sweet gesture he probably didn’t even think about. 
"Need you to fuck me," you beg, reaching down to try and undress him further. 
"So crude. What happened to my nice, sweet girl?" He mumbles against your neck, but helps you with his pants anyway. 
"You must have me confused with someone else."
"Doubtful."
You don’t have much time to consider what that could mean before he’s running the head of his cock over your clit and you’re gasping into his mouth, saying please like it’s the only word you know. 
"There she is," Spencer croons, slipping inside you slow enough for you to feel every inch but quick enough for it to expel all the air from your lungs. Once he’s opened you all the way up, impossibly deep and close, you’re seeing stars, barely breathing. His head has dropped to your shoulder but now he drags his lips up your neck and jaw. "We okay?"
It’s been a while, you realize, since that last case in Maine. He always takes some getting used to. Hardly able to think around the pressure of his cock you nod, trying to string together a few words. 
"Fuck, I need a second." The words come out choked, but you manage. Spencer rubs your hip, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. 
"Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you."
He curses to himself, dropping his head momentarily. You’re so fucking soft, and warm, and perfect, he can’t think straight. But he has to try because he has to take care of you. 
"Spence," you gasp, failing to verbally communicate the intensity of the physical sensation. 
"I know, baby," comes his sympathetic coo. "You know you can take me. Deep breaths."
"Mhm," you squeak, trying to take follow his directions and soften your muscles. Spencer keeps rubbing soothingly over your hips, stomach, whatever he can get his hands on, really, pressing kisses all over your face and telling you how good you are, how perfect you feel for him. After a few moments he feels you fluttering around him and experimentally pulls out halfway, before pushing back in equally as slowly. Your jaw drops as he begins to leisurely fuck you, arms wrapping around his back. He gets deeper than you expect every time, rubbing you raw and stretching you out in the most delicious way. 
"Perfect, baby. Such a good listener, did exactly what I asked."
You cry out when he begins fucking you impossibly deeper, but still so slow and sweet.
"You feel so fucking good for me," he groans. "This is what you were made for, huh?" You agree enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut. 
"Only for you."
Just three words—but he wasn’t expecting to like hearing you say that as much as he does. A strong desire to possess you overtakes him—one that he’ll probably have the decency to feel guilty about later, but for now feels fucking fantastic and intoxicating. 
"Only me?"
You moan an affirmation. 
"Good. I don’t want anyone else fucking you, do you understand me?"
"Yes!"
"I’m the only one who gets to touch you," he breathes, speeding up ever so slightly, "nobody else is going to feel you like this. Such a good girl, spreading her legs for me at five in the fucking morning. You’re not doing this for anybody else, baby."
"Uh-uh, please, pleasepleaseplease Spence—"
He knows what you need, reaching a hand down between your bodies to rub your clit. 
You gasp an airy, high pitched curse, hips twitching but unable to escape the near-punishing rhythm of his own. It’s obvious that your orgasm is close, but you can’t even warn him, too overwhelmed with pleasure. He kisses you, swallowing your moans that have probably become just a bit too loud given the whole hotel thing. 
No words are exchanged between the two of you as you near the finish line for a change, open mouths slipping against each others in what is too messy to be called a kiss. Your orgasm body-slams you, a choked silent scream as you tighten around Spencer and he seems to come at nearly the exact same moment—deep inside you, slowly rolling his hips in a few more strong thrusts as he finishes. 
You let out a delayed moan at the sensation of being filled up, still pulsing around him as he comes to a halt, buried inside of you. He drops his head to your neck, and you can feel each breath against your flushed skin. Other than the panting, you’re both silent for a while. Spencer seems to gather himself sooner than you do, finally breaking the quiet. 
"You okay?"
All you can manage is a little squeak, at which he looses a breathy chuckle. His hand slides to your hip, gently stroking the skin with a thumb. 
"Need your words, angel girl."
"I’m okay," you coo into his shoulder, but he has to strain to hear it above his own breathing. 
"Yeah? Why so quiet?"
But it seems that at least for the moment, he’s gotten all the words he can out of you. When he tries to move, you whimper indignantly, clutching onto him tighter. 
"I really did a number on you this time, huh?" He laughs when you nod into him. "Are you falling asleep?"
"Mhm," you hum dreamily, little puffs of warm air slowing against his neck. 
"You can have…" he cranes his head to check the digital clock, "48 minutes."
"An hour."
He settles his weight on you once more, pressing a chaste kiss to your throat. His voice is low and gentle as he admonishes you. 
"I said 48 minutes."
But it doesn’t matter—you’re already asleep, or close enough to it. Spencer takes the opportunity to shift you to your side, and the way you wrap around him like a vine even unconsciously makes his heart ache. He really should go now—the earlier he gets out of your room the less likely certain complications will arise—but how can he possibly leave you like this? A vulnerable, dreamy girl with tangled hair haloing around her on the pillow case, clinging to him with blind trust that he’ll watch over her as she sleeps? No—there’s no way he’s leaving yet. Instead, he brings you closer. 48 perfect minutes will go by far too quickly, he’s sure. 
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