#I’m really liking where this is going so far

[bigbad-tardis]

I don’t normally do meta analysis on tumblr of Doctor Who episodes but I’ve seen people so far reducing Dot and Bubble as a critique of Gen Z and the obsession with social media and “no one wants to work these days!” When I took away a different interpretation of the episode.

Dot and Bubble is about a group of rich white settlers. They’re so rich that to them two hours of work is too much and by their own admission they spend all their time partying otherwise. But I think it’s that scene at the end that really cemented my interpretations of the episode. The other member of the survivors is like “we can live like our ancestors and tame the wilderness.”

They’re trying to capture the magic of the good old days when they aren’t equipped to handle it, but not because of social media, but because they’re so out of touch with reality due to their rich backgrounds! *Lindy gets Ricky September killed and then tells people a lie in order to save her own skin, but also ends up with an ownership over his memory. She tells everyone that she couldn’t stop Ricky from going back to save more people but her tone reminds me a lot of the people on rich reality shows. “He was so brave.”

Idk where else I’m going with this but just something I noticed and thought was interesting about the episode.

*Edit addition: the reason I brought that up was because it’s the kind of ownership over something that isn’t theirs that is only really found by rich people. See Kim Kardashian wearing Marilyn Monroe’s dress.

#doctor who #doctor who spoilers #fifteenth doctor #ruby sunday #dot and bubble #dot and bubble spoilers

[luveline]

Craving a postprison!Spencer x stripper!reader fic, please ma’am.

Maybe she gets a daytime job at a coffee shop or a bookstore - to “supplement her income”/ not have to dance as often (not that she’s ashamed!!) and Spencer is just so proud of her for trying and can’t quit kissing her and praising her because I know in other fics you’ve mentioned she didn’t think anyone would hire her because of her profession/self esteem, plus after prison she didn’t want to dance because she wanted to be with Spencer. 🥺

Or really just anything with a proud Spencer x stripper!reader doing anything.

Your work is fantastic and I’m in love with everything you do!! 💕 thank you and it’s totally okay if you think this request is lame or don’t wanna write it!

thank you angel! —you find a new job while making decisions about your old one after Spencer returns from prison, and Spencer would praise you for breathing, so he’s extremely proud. fem, 1.8k

Statistics differ, but estimates suggest that there are around twenty thousand strippers in Las Vegas. With a population of seven hundred thousand people (estimated up), that means that one in thirty five people living in Las Vegas dances for a living. 

It’s more than you’d think. Spencer knew of plenty of women who worked as strippers, exotic dancers, or private entertainers when he was still living at home. And while the numbers are much smaller in Washington DC where he lives now, it’s far from zero. More surprising for the average person to be one, perhaps, but not for Spencer. 

It used to make him blush like a steam train, sure, but it never did any of the things you were scared of. He’s never looked down on you for it, never been jealous (well, never acted like a jerk because of it), never positioned it as anything other than work. His only complaints are in your concern. You don’t like the club, most of the time. You feel unsafe often. The risk of femicide is yards higher for you as a sex worker than it would be otherwise, but who is Spencer to talk about danger? He still has stitches in his leg. 

Your job used to feel more urgent, a red flashing light above your head, because you’d come around with bruises or cut knees, tear stained cheeks, and you couldn’t make ends meet for all your efforts, but things have changed. You’re reluctant to depend on him, but you’ll accept the help when you need it. Nothing keeps you there if you don’t want to be there, and when you do you’re a marvel. You are beautiful, in Spencer’s eyes. Your dancing when you’re having a good night is one of the prettiest things he’s ever seen —more than pretty, sometimes. A hot coal in his stomach. 

But the fact of the matter is that Spencer’s home, and you don’t want to dance. You haven’t been to the club for weeks as far as he’s aware, and he’d consider himself well informed. You spent all your savings and started spending his instead and he couldn’t care less, what’s his is yours, whatever keeps you aloft while you make whatever decision it is you’re working toward. Not that it presented itself that way. 

I’ll have to go back.

Spencer on his back, you sitting with your head turned from the TV and toward him, your hand on his hip, just resting. Where?

To work. I have enough money for the next two weeks, and then I’m all out. 

Spencer wouldn’t do something as unkind as rolling his eyes, but the point of you moving in was to cement that he’d look after you no matter what. He’d turned his head to you on his pillow and reached for your elbow. You’re still resting. 

You’ve been home for two months, Spencer. I’ve rested enough. I… I only managed this long because you haven’t asked me for anything and that’s not fair, we both live here. 

I earn more than you, so I pay more, he’d said, confused. It’s not as though it hurt him to continue paying for an apartment he’s been living in for years. 

I won’t be your leech. 

You’re not my leech, don’t say that.

I can’t just not have money. 

Well… he’d said. He’d never discussed it with you so openly before, always stopped at the first suggestion, but there’s a first time for everything. You know you can have whatever you want from me. Anything you want, you don’t have to ask. 

Spencer… you’re my boyfriend. 

Exactly. 

No, you’re my boyfriend. You don’t have to keep me. I don’t want that. 

He understood the ‘want’ most heavily. What do you want, angel? he’d asked, dragging your hand up his naked chest to rest over his diaphragm, your arm moving up and down in time with his breathing. 

You’d seemed stricken, but not upset. Like the question surprised you in having no answer. Not sure… you’d said eventually. Mostly you. 

A week passed, two. A third and you’d asked him to borrow money, just for a little while, and with the vehement promise you’d pay him back. 

He’s not expecting it. So soon, either. But here you are standing in front of him with a beaming smile and little book in your hands, unzipping one of the book's inner pockets to count out the money you’d ’borrowed’. “Here you go, my angel, there’s everything.” 

Spencer just looks at it. “What is it?” 

“The money I owe you.” 

He presses his hands to his stomach to stop you from forcing the notes into them. “You don’t owe me anything.” 

“No, seriously, please take it.” 

He shakes his head. “Seriously. I don’t want anything from you, I love you. That money was for you to do what you wanted, or needed. It was yours as soon as I gave it to you.” 

You try regardless to put it in his hands. Your hair was done freshly a week ago, your nails manicured but unpainted, your face adorned with some new makeup he’d seen on his (your) vanity a few days ago. It honestly hadn’t crossed his mind why you’d suddenly given yourself a refresh, and he had no suspicions. You would’ve told him if you went to the club, even just via text, because it’s important he knows you’ve had access to your phone or that you’re coming home. (Plus, he’d notice you leaving at night. You’ve spent the last few evenings laying across his lap.)

“Where did you get this?” he asks, smiling softly, wondering if he’s come to the right conclusion. 

You drop the money on his thigh and take a couple of steps back. 

“I,” you say, holding your little book to your stomach, “got a job as a barista. They gave me my first paycheck today, a direct deposit. So I took out what I owe you and the rest of it is in here.” 

“You what?” he asks. 

“I’m working at the coffeehouse by the library,” you say, nodding, parts proud of yourself and parts shy. 

“For how long? Why didn’t you tell me?” 

You bite your lip. “Just this week. And honestly, I didn’t want you to know if I couldn’t do it.” 

Spencer stands up but doesn’t cross the room to you. He could reach out and catch your hand. “How could you work somewhere new all week without me noticing?” 

“You weren’t here on Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday morning, and they gave me Thursday off, so I just told you a very small lie this morning about going to the store. I knew you’d get distracted by your Persian poetry again.” 

He did get distracted, very much so. You’ve been and worked a whole shift without his worrying, which is a bit awful in itself (he really does love you, and he’d like to know where you are), but is also, frankly, a great thing. You should be able to work without worry. You should do anything you want to do. 

Still, a whole week at a brand new job without any support, and to stand there with your paycheck as unmistakable waves of satisfaction melt off of you unkissed is insanity. Spencer’s laughing as he ushers you into his arms, as he hugs your shoulders tightly, “Oh my god!” he says, “Wow, congratulations!” He pulls back just a touch to see your face. “Please don’t lie to me about where you’re going, that’s so dangerous. I love you!” 

He takes your face into both hands with your arms hanging loosely behind his back and begins a reckoning of kisses. The slope of your cheek, the skin between your nose and lips, Spencer couldn’t care less where the kisses land, he just wants them all over you. You laugh softly as he goes, almost stickily, a sound that comes deep from your chest. “I’m so proud of you,” he says, pressing a quick, mildly rougher kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“I might still strip,” you say. 

“Whatever you want,” he says, squeezing your face between his palms. “What’s it like? Do you like it? Is it hard?” He kisses you again. “I wish you’d told me,” he says against your lips. 

You’re quieter than he expected, and warm. He pulls away more sternly to see what’s gone wrong. He could’ve asked the wrong questions. Maybe he’s embarrassed you. 

“I just wanted to make sure I could do it. I didn’t want to fail and… and have you know. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be, I get it.” God knows he’s failed a hundred times for you to see it. He wishes he would have hidden a lot of that from you, spared you some heartache, but he also knows how lucky he is to have you near. “That’s what we’re supposed to do, right? We should be together when stuff goes wrong.” He beams. “But it didn’t go wrong.” 

“I think I’m pretty good at it.” 

“Yeah?” 

You hold his wrist. “And I get tips, did you know that? Not as many as before,” —you laugh to yourself loudly— “but still. It’s really cool. They pay me even if nobody wants coffee, and when people want coffee I get extra.” 

Spencer kisses the corner of your eye. He kisses up to your eyebrow and down again, all over your cheek before turning your face to the other side to kiss circles into the other. “I,” —kiss— “can’t,” —kiss— “believe it.” Kiss. “Actually, I can, but I still can’t.” 

“It’s just a part time job.” 

“That you didn’t think you could do,” he says. “But you can do anything, I knew you could. I’m amazed by you.” 

He grins and throws his arms over your shoulders. 

You squeeze him right back, the two of you swaying, almost falling over. He can feel how proud you are of yourself. You deserve to feel this way no matter what. 

“I like dancing,” you say, “I do, I just wish I could do it in a different… world? Is that stupid?” 

“No. You’re never stupid.” He smiles as your hand weaves into his hair, fingertips scratching along his scalp, his curls caught between your fingers. 

“Do you think you could come on Monday? I can make you a cup of coffee. It’s not as hard as it looks.” 

“Please, I’d love for you to make me a cup of coffee.” His smile presses to your shoulder, where he breathes you in briefly, before remembering something very important. “Hey, do you wear an apron?” 

“Of course I do.”

Oh my god, he thinks. There are more than half a million baristas in the United States, and Spencer will bet his monthly paycheck that you’re the cutest one to ever exist. You look cute right now in your jeans and your button up shirt, but put an apron on top of that? To see you standing behind a bar mixing drinks and pouring latte art? Monday can’t come quick enough. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[moonstruckme]

if your not taking requests feel free to ignore me

could u do camp counselor james! where he and reader reunite next summer at the start of a new camp session?

I am lovely, don't worry! Thank you for requesting :)

camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 884 words

It’s early May, and the sun is still pleasant. After last year, you know to relish the first few cool nights in the cabin, before the summer heat sets in and you become dependent on tiny handheld fans and those popsicles from the canteen. For now you’re enjoying it, the wooden boards of the dock warm under your thighs and your head tilted up to the sun as your toes kiss the cool water. 

The air smells like pine and fresh water. In a few days, all you’ll be able to hear are kids screaming exuberantly, splashing around in the water and small feet pounding on the dirt, but now it’s just the sloshing of the waves against the shore, the steady thunk of the canoe someone’s already gotten out hitting the dock. It’s peaceful. Meditative. And maybe it’s because you’re so focussed on that that you don’t hear James’ car pull into the gravel parking lot, or his friends bickering about who has to carry what inside, or really much of anything until there’s a set of footsteps approaching from behind you, and you turn around. 

“James!” You’re every inch the girlfriend in a movie, embarrassingly so, but you’re too excited to second-guess yourself as you get your feet under you and run to meet him. 

“Hey,” James laughs, stopping a second before you do to brace for impact. He grabs you under your legs and hoists them up around his waist, grinning hugely as he pecks you on the lips. “Hey, careful, no bare feet on the grass, remember?” 

You roll your eyes. You’re not supposed to let the kids run around without their shoes in case there’s some broken glass or something, but there never is. “You just wanted to pick me up,” you say. 

James’ smile widens. “Yeah, you got me.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck as he crushes you to his front, both of you gripping the other like you’re expecting to be torn apart. He can’t have been here more than half an hour, but James already smells like camp, sunscreen and something woodsy mingling with the smell of his shampoo. 

“I missed you,” you admit, turning your lips into the side of his head. 

James hugs you impossibly tighter. “I’m so glad you get it, angel. I was telling Sirius about how much I missed you on the way here, and he was being very unsympathetic about it. Deeply coldhearted, really—” 

“Fuck off,” says Sirius, and you look over James’ shoulder to see him and Remus approaching. “You saw each other last weekend!” 

“God, don’t remind me!” James lets you go just enough to smush his lips to yours. “Far too long. Cruel, unusual treatment.” 

Sirius humphs. “And yet you were apart from us for three months last summer, and I didn’t hear nearly so much of bereavement.” 

You smile and pat your boyfriend’s shoulder, a silent request for him to put you down. 

“Trust me,” you say, going over to hug Sirius, “the rest of us did. He was waxing poetic about you all summer. I think the kids were a bit worried.” 

“Yes, well.” Sirius cracks, grinning as he kisses you on the cheek. “As he should.” 

“Hi, lovely.” Remus looks thoroughly worn out from the long drive—or more likely, from his friends’ bickering the whole way—but he scrubs a fond hand up and down your back as you squeeze him around the middle. 

“I can’t believe you guys are here,” you say, beaming as you peel away from him. James immediately pulls you back against his front, his arms twined loosely around your waist. 

“We couldn’t very well leave him to wax poetic all summer again.” Remus smiles, and Sirius nods fervently. 

“You should have seen him, babe,” he says. “He was having a proper crisis over it. Now I’ve got to spend my whole summer doing charity work just to keep him from being torn apart.” 

“They do pay us,” James reminds him. 

Sirius waves him off. “For those wages? It’s charity work.” 

You lean your head back on James’ shoulder, sinking into his hold. You do have some inkling of the crisis Sirius is talking about; when your boss at camp had called him a couple of months ago and he’d been faced with either not seeing you for the three months you’d be here or going with you and not seeing his friends like he did last year, he’d put her off for weeks before deciding. In the end, Remus hadn’t been difficult at all to convince. He’s always wanted to work with kids, but James had to pitch the idea of being an art instructor to Sirius relentlessly before he’d finally agreed. 

You loved getting to know James last summer, and getting to see him in his element when you went to visit him on weekends throughout the year, but you suspect that now, with all his favorite people in one place for the entire summer, you’ll get to witness the happiest version of him you’ve seen yet. 

“The kids don’t get here until Thursday,” you say. “Want to see if we can have a bonfire tonight?” 

James chuckles. He leans over your shoulder to kiss your cheek, his smile unmissable against your skin. “Those are always fun.” 

#camp counselor!james potter #james potter au #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x self insert #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter drabble #james potter blurb #james potter one shot #james potter oneshot #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #the marauders #hp marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader

[jflemings]

— loose lips sink ships

pairing: jessie fleming x reader

synopsis: after portland play seattle, janine accidentally tells you that jessie had been with her ex olivia for most of college after you’d been told that they only dated for a couple of months.

warnings: a lil angst, trust issues (kinda)

a/n: for the sake of the fic, olivia athens is jessie’s ex. took inspo from an ask i got a lil while back

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍁 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

you were looking to break the deadlock when it happened.

one minute the ball was leaving your feet and the next you were on the ground clutching your nose as blood pooled in your hand. you’d gotten an elbow to the nose as you ran up the wing, looking to find sophia who wasn’t too far in front of you.

the tackle had been clean for the most part. it wasn’t mistimed, or malicious, the midfielder had just thrown her elbow back into face after you’d passed it. her foot had hooked around your left ankle as she’d tried to get in front of you and you’d grabbed the back of her jersey. it had been a complete accident. nevertheless, it ended with the two of you on your respective benches, you nursing a hopefully not broken nose and her a badly twisted ankle.

jessie was by your side in an instant when you fell to your knees and leant over into a foetal position, one hand on your shoulder whilst the other tried to gently grasp your hand away from your face. the look of worry in her eyes was enough for you to know that it was bad, or at least that it looked like it was. she’d grimaced when she saw all the blood and soph had gasped from where she was standing behind your girlfriend.

now you hold an ice pack to your nose as you watch both teams shake hands and come off the pitch. portland had won and while you assumed that some form of celebration was in order, you knew that you weren’t going to go.

“swollen face really suits you” janine quips as she walks over to you “she got you good”

you roll your eyes and pull the ice pack off your face briefly “not good enough to break it, thank god” you say stuffily “we got the three points and i’m walking away not needing surgery so i’d say that’s a pretty successful day in the office”

the older canadian nods “i take it you’re not coming out with us?”

“unless you want me to walk around with a cold compress on my face the whole time, no” you deadpan “it’s not a very attractive look”

“i don’t think jessie would mind” she muses with a playful smirk “she doesn’t care what you look like”

“that makes one of us”

janine rolls her eyes and sits beside you, tapping your knee affectionately “kinda funny that jessie’s ex is the one that elbowed you” she says as she half laughs.

you furrow your brows and have the sudden realisation that you don’t actually know where jessie is since she hadn’t come over to you after the final whistle. you scan the area, craning your neck to try to get a better look when you spot her in a sea of deep blue. you spot her easily in portland red and expect her to be talking to jordyn or quinn, but instead find her chatting with olivia athens.

she’s standing over her as olivia sits on the bench. jessie’s hand sits delicately on her shoulder as the two of them talk and laugh in their own little bubble.

the sight of it makes you feel weird.

you tilt your head in confusion “she dated athens?” you question.

“yeah, for most of college. you didn’t know?”

you while your head around to janine, pulling the ice off your face to reveal your swollen nose. she grimaces at the sight before seeing your shocked expression.

“most of college? what does that mean?”

“…that they dated for two and a half years before she moved to london” she answers slowly “you seriously didn’t know?”

“no, i knew that she dated someone in college for a couple of months. not that she dated someone for two and a half years!” you huff

realisation dawns on janine rapidly, her face morphing from confusion to guilt as she thinks over what she’s just said to you. she punches her mouth “jess told you they were only together for a couple of months?”

“and that they’d broken up way before she moved to chelsea”

the canadian suddenly can’t look you in the eye. she attempts to divert her attention elsewhere, trying to find a way out of this conversation before you smack her on the leg.

“janine” you say sternly.

she relents with a sigh “they broke up because of the distance. they both thought it would be better if they split because olivia was going to be playing in the states and they didn’t want— where are you going!?” she cuts herself off abruptly as you stand and make your way towards the tunnel.

“shower” you say shortly, not daring to look at jessie as you pass her on your way.

you staunch into change rooms and grab your shower bag and your clothes before making your way to the showers. everyone was still outside mingling but you knew it wouldn’t be long before your teammates started to trickle in so you took the opportunity as it presented itself and basked in the quiet.

you immediately turn on the hot water and let it steam slightly before ridding yourself of your soiled kit, stepping in and relaxing once you feel the water run down your back. you go through your shower routine almost dazed, the thought of jessie purposefully lying to you lingering in the back of your mind.

when jessie made the move to chelsea you were playing at manchester city with janine. she had insisted that the two of you meet and quickly introduced you to the younger canadian at a small get together at her place.

jessie had made an immediate impression on you. she was a little awkward, yes, but once the two of you got talking you quickly realised that she was incredibly smart and funny. the pair of you spent the whole night chatting and getting to know eachother before exchanging numbers with the promise of meeting up without janine.

a friendship quickly blossomed and you found yourself harbouring secret romantic feelings for the canadian. you kept them under wraps relatively well until janine and lauren hemp spotted you smiling at your phone a little too wide, leaving them to all but squeeze the information out of you. janine promised to keep your secret and to not do any meddling on the condition that you at least tried to make a move.

you, of course, had protested immediately until she started listing off reasons why it was a good idea, accidentally letting it slip that your feelings weren’t one sided in her rushed rant. you did what she wanted and asked jessie out with no mention of the fact that her best friend had been the one to out her secret.

when the topic of past relationships came up jessie had explicitly said that she had dated one person through college and that it had only been for a couple of months, claiming that the two of them really were just better as friends. she told you that they had dated in the beginning of her second last year, that it wasn’t anything serious, and that they had broken up long before chelsea came knocking.

your relationship grew and eventually you decided that it was time to leave the wsl. portland had made each of you an offer that you couldn’t refuse, so the two of you packed up your lives in london and crossed the pond.

replaying that conversation in your head feels like a slap in the face. jessie, to your knowledge, had never lied to you or withheld the truth in anyway, so to find out that she hadn’t been completely honest with you in the very beginning of your relationship had you running hot.

the two of you weren’t a secret in the footballing world, but you knew that it wasn’t something that was well known. the two of you had chosen to let fans speculate about the nature of your relationship whilst being honest with those around you, it was just easier that way.

you didn’t know if olivia knew you were together, or if she knew that jessie was even in a relationship. you didn’t know if they kept in contact, if they still knew eachother well, or if jessie had even thought about her before she clocked you in the nose.

you just didn’t know.

voices interrupt your train of thought and you quickly turn off the shower and grab a towel, drying yourself off and getting changed in hopes that your teammates will be too distracted with themselves to notice you slipping out. as you go to leave to go back to your cubby, you catch janine’s guilty eye. she smiles apologetically at you before turning to get in her own shower, leaving you to what you were doing.

jessie pretty much runs into you on the way to her shower, steadying the two of you as your shoulders collide. her hand squeezes your bicep as she smiles and looks at your nose.

“it’s not broken” you say “it looked worse than what it is”

your girlfriend breathes a relieved sigh “thank god for that” she says as she grabs your jaw gently, moving your head so she can look at your whole face properly “you’re pretty swollen” she observes.

you take your face out of her hand “yeah. i just need to ice it on and off and take it easy and i’ll be fine” you say almost emotionless “nothing to worry about”

the canadian tilts her head and squints her eyes, studying you. even with your nose she didn’t expect you to be so down, your stoic attitude catching her a bit off guard. even if you got injured you were still known to at least attempt to crack a smile if it wasn’t serious. she recalls a time when you had sprained your knee during a city vs chelsea match; you were obviously distraught and in pain when you went down but by the time the game was over you were managing to smile and just be grateful that you hadn’t done your ACL.

your girlfriend squints “are you okay?”

“aside from the nose? yeah, fine.” you say as you pass her.

jessie’s quick to grab your hand and pull you back, her voice minimising to a whisper “y/n” she says

“i’m fine jessie” you falsely assure as you take your hand back “just tired”

she lets you go without much protest, her eyes following you until you’re out of her sight. her mouth flattens into a line and she shakes her head, gripping her jeans and t-shirt tightly as she makes her way to the shower.

janine watches the interaction from across the room and feels the overwhelming urge to go after you, or to at least explain to jessie, but she knows that she’s run her mouth enough for one day.

you walk into your shared apartment and immediately drop your things onto the kitchen bench whilst you raid your freeze for a bag of frozen peas. jessie trails behind cautiously. the car ride had been pretty much silent despite her best efforts to make conversation, leaving her feeling like there was something else that was wrong with you.

she watches you place the peas on your face and close your eyes with a sigh. she’s unsure how to bring up the obvious tension between the two of you, especially since your patience seems to be wearing thin already. she doesn’t like to fight with you but she also doesn’t like feeling the need to walk on eggshells.

she leans her forearms on the kitchen counter “babe” she says into the silence “what’s up? you’ve been frosty since after the game”

“i got an elbow to the face jess” you sass “i’d say that’s a reason to be frosty”

jessie rolls her eyes “that’s not what i meant”

you wave her off quickly and release a deep breath in an attempt to rid yourself of some of the tension “i’m tired and i’m sore, jess, that’s all. seriously”

“okay…” she says slowly “i was going to go out with the team but—”

“no, go” you cut her off as you place the bag of frozen vegetables on the bench “have fun, i’ll be fine”

she stands up straight and runs her hand over the back of her neck “are you sure? because if you don’t want me to i won’t”

the truth was that you kind of didn’t want her to go. you knew that while jordyn and quinn would be there, olivia probably would be too. you heard a few of your teammates say that some of the seattle girls were going to join your team for drinks, and you weren’t too keen on having your girlfriend’s ex hanging around without you there.

it was stupid. really, it was. jessie adored you and you trusted her immensely, but knowing that she had told you something that wasn’t true in the beginning of your relationship had planted small seeds of doubt. you were left wondering what else she could’ve possibly lied to you about, and how it would affect your relationship if any of it was made known to you now.

your need to keep the peace overrides the need to find out the truth. “i’m sure. tell jords and quinny that i say hi” you say softly, walking around the bench and placing a soft hand to her cheek.

she leans into you and kisses the palm of your hand before you walk to your living room and turning on the tv, hoping to find something to take your mind off of everything.

jessie, on the other hand, goes straight to your bedroom to start to get ready. you can hear your wardrobe doors and drawers open and close as she looks for what she wants to wear before she walks out and past you to go to your laundry dressed in just a plain shirt, boxes and socks “have you seen my light wash jeans, babe?”

“which ones, you’ve got a million pairs” you ask as you flick through your streaming services.

jessie goes through dirty and clean laundry as she answers you loudly “the more loose fitted ones. i wore them last week to dinner with sinc and janine”

“bottom left drawer under your dark blue ones”

she’s quick to rush back into your bedroom and grab them, stumbling back into the hallway as she puts one leg on. you watch her struggle before she does up her fly and comes back over to you, kissing your cheek firmly “sam and soph are coming to get me, i won’t be home late and i’ll call a cab if i need to” she says into your skin, kissing you again.

you shake your head “i can come get you”

she brushes your hair back “no, it’s okay. you just try to get that swelling to go down. i promise i’ll only be a few hours”

all you can do is nod as you watch her grab her things and walk out the door, the pit of doubt only growing in your stomach as she shuts it behind her.

#jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming fic #woso #woso x reader #woso fic #woso imagine #jflemings writes #jflemings woso

[periluvr]

jujutsu kaisen x bridgerton

which confession from the bridgerton’s universe would say jjk’s men to their future wife/wife?

ft. geto, gojo, megumi and yuji

ᯓᡣ�� Geto Suguru being the king George, y’know, i really feel like what the king George said to queen Charlotte would be something Geto would say because of his mental issues. I think he’d rather suffer alone than talking to his issues to his wife not to worry her.

Suguru stands up, raises his voice and looks at you, "I’m a madman. I am a danger. In my mind, there are different worlds creeping in. The heavens and the Earth collide. I do not know where I am!"

you raise your voice back, your face is firm, your brows are furrowed, "Do you love me?"

he doesn’t respond to your question and continues to talk about his issue, "You do not wish a life with me for yourself" — he stops — "No one, wishes that".

that’s bullshit! your think to yourself, what the hell would he think that? "Suguru! I will stand with you between the heavens and the Earth. I will tell you where you are. Do you love me?"

shouts echo through the room, the argument keeps going, "I love you! from the mo—" he takes a deep breath "from the moment I saw you trying to go over the wall—" tears begin to form in his eyes "I have loved you desperately. I cannot breathe when you are not near. I love you, yn. My heart calls your name."

both of your breathing are synchronized, Suguru comes closer and kisses you, desperately.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Gojo Satoru being Anthony Bridgerton, i just know sooo well this man thinks he’s THE gentleman of the season, every seasons. I think he doesn’t want to find a wife since he’s the head of his family and he just does what he’s supposed to do but when he first saw you, an inner conflict began.

You’re both in the library, he really wants you to leave or he’s going to do something he’ll regret instantly. He hates you since the first time you met but he doesn’t know why. You just told him you’re leaving for your country and he can’t help but feels betrayed, sad and angry.

Satoru closes his book and looks at you firmly, "do you think there is a corner on this earth that you could travel to far away enough to free me from this torment?"

you look at him completely confused, what the hell is he talking about? you start talking but he cuts you off.

"I am a gentleman, my father raised me to act with honor but that honor is hanging on a thread that grows precarious with every moment I spend in your presence."

"Satoru I—" he comes closer and whispers to your hear "You are the bane of my existence and the object of all my desires. Night and day I dream of you."

You can’t even say a word. He steps back, takes a sip of his whisky "My mother is waiting for me" he quickly bows to you and leaves the room. You’re now all alone in the library thinking about what he just said to you.

Fushiguro Megumi being Simon Basset, i really think this man wants a partner who can be his bestfriend too, even though he never wanted to get married at first.

both of you are no standing in front of your majesty, wishing she’s going to accept your marriage. Megumi has always been a good man to you, but he never wanted to marry you, until that day. Today, you have to convince the queen to marry you.

"You see your Majesty, it was love at first sight—" you start but Megumi cuts you off, "It was not your Majesty" — he looks at you, and you just look completely stunned by his words — "the young lady flatters me, it was not love at first sight for either of us. There’s attraction certainly, at least on my part and Miss [last name] thought me presumptuous, arrogant, insincere, all fair really." — he pauses and breaths heavily, "And I thought her a prim young lady barely out of leading strings, not to mention the sister of my best friend and so romance was entirely out of the question for both of us but in so removing it, we found something far greater." — Megumi looks at you once again — "We found friendship." — The queen looks more interested now — "You see Miss [last name] and I have been fooling all of Shinjuku for quite some time, we have fooled them into thinking we are courting, and really all along, we simply enjoyed each other’s company so much, we could not stay away from one another—" you look at him, mesmerized by his words and presence in front of the queen. "I’ve never been a man that much enjoyed flirting or chatting or indeed talking at all, but with yn—" he clears his throat, "Miss [last name], conversation has always been easy, her laughter brings me joy. To meet a beautiful woman is one thing, but to meet your best friend and the most beautiful of women is something entirely apart…"

Everyone is looking at Megumi absolutely stunned by his confession. He really just said you two were fooling all of Shinjuku by pretending a future marriage?

You didn’t say anything and just keep listening to Megumi, excusing himself towards the queen and the prince.

When you go out from here you look at Megumi and ask him "Did a just say that to the Majesty for her to accept our marriage or—" he sighs, "I think all of what I said. I really think that."

Itadori Yuji being Collin Bridgerton, idk why but Yuji really gives ‘friends to lovers’ vibe and i’m HERE for it! I think this man doesn’t understand signals when someone likes him.

After helping you to find a man, Yuji starts feeling jealous of men trying to court you. When he saw you leaving the ball with your ripped dress, he couldn’t help but feel bad for you. He followed you to your coach and asked you to get on.

"Yuji, what are you doing here?" you ask him, this is definitely not why a gentleman he’s supposed to do, even though you two know each other since eight or nine.

He looks at you and starts telling you what’s in his mind. He talks rapidly because you’re going to you’ll soon reach your estate.

"I have spent so long trying to feel less, trying to be the kind of man society expects me to be. And for a moment, I thought I had succeeded. But these past few weeks have been full of confounding feelings." — he takes your hands in his — "Feeling like a total inability to stop thinking about you—" he looks at your lips, "about that kiss. Feelings like dreaming of you when I’m asleep, and in fact preferring sleep because that is where I might find you. A feeling that is like torture!" — he takes a deep breath — "But one which I cannot, will not, do not want to give up"

Tears start to roll down your cheeks, "please, do not say things you do not mean" — "I do mean it. It is everything I have wanted to say to you for weeks".

You’re now looking at each other. Yuji caresses your cheeks with his thumb and he finally kisses you. The kiss is delicate but rough at the same time. You wanted this for so long!

Once you arrive in front of the Itadori’s estate. He gets out of the coach and offers you his hand to get out too.

"Yuji?" — "Are you coming with me?" he smiles, "What? Your family will see me!" he comes closer, "For God’s sake, yn [last name], are you going to marry me or not?"

You take his hands and goes to his estate, with him.

i wanted to write this for soooo long!!! i had this idea with two of my friends @sunelia and @nycteis17 (look at her fanfiction of sukuna in ao3 : the irony of fate)

i put the one who have a netflix season because i didn’t read the books yet and i didn’t want to put fake things or whatever coming from the books.

i’m trying a new style of header, tell me if you prefer this one or not !!!

english isn’t my first language ;)

divider by : @saradika

#jujutsu kaisen #periluvr #gojo satoru #jjk #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #geto suguru #gojo x you #i love you gojo #yuji fluff #yuji itadori #yuji x reader #jjk yuji #itadori x reader #jujutsu itadori #megumi imagine #megumi fluff #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #jjk fushiguro #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro x reader #geto imagines #jujutsu geto #geto x reader #geto fluff #getou suguru x reader #jjk suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #getou suguru x you

[wellionlybroughtthree]

it's going to be a long, long time - matty healy

[title is rocketman lyrics, has nothing to do with the fic but i was listening to elton john trying to figure out what to call this thing so i just went with this. once again thank you @abouttofillhisshoes for the beta reading, it is honestly an honour. oh and no, this is not the kidnapping fic.]

wc: ~8k

cw: fluff, reader has anxiety and body image issues, just really insecure over all, they are friends, matty is kinda horny, smut, he just gets her off with his fingers nothing crazy, dirty talk, matty cums in his pants <3

singularity series chapter 1

So Matty paid for the pizza and you hope he chokes on it. He can be so infuriating. You know what else is infuriating? Realising that you are enjoying his fucking company more than you should.

When the pizza arrived, he answered the door before you could, shoving the money at the teenager and telling him to keep the change before turning with an innocent smile to look at you where you were glaring at him from the couch. He then said if you were really upset about it, you could just pay for the food next time.

Next time.

You sat with a petulant glare at the TV, while Matty picked a movie, looking happy with himself when you didn’t argue about there being a next time where you would buy him dinner. He picked the movie Gremlins, which surprised you but also made you give him a suspicious squint. When you asked him why he picked it, he simply pointed at Loki, your dog, and then looked at you with a ‘well duh’ expression saying “Wasn’t that hard to put two and two together and realise you like that movie.”

…Okay so maybe it is your favourite movie of all time, but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of telling him that.

Loki sat on the ground watching you, as you started to eat your pizza, staring at Matty like he was Romeo and Loki was a tubby slobbering love sick whore of a Juliet. You rolled your eyes when Matty tried to inconspicuously pick bits of meat off his pizza and drop them on the floor for him. Loki isn’t a quiet eater, he’s like a vacuum that makes wheezing pig noises every time he inhales but you decided not to say anything, smiling to yourself when Matty was basically eating a vegetarian pizza by the time Loki was done harassing him.

You were picking at your own pizza, following the same ritual you always do with eating all the topping first before you eat the base - it’s an old habit that you haven’t been able to kick, sometimes old rituals just stick, you know?

“OKay _ No, stop, stop. I can’t watch this any more - what are you doing?” Matty asks from his spot next to you, where he has sat far closer than he needs to. He’s glancing from your naked pizza slice, then to your face with an incredulous expression. You look at your pizza slice and then back to him. “Cleaning my butthole, what does it look like I’m doing?”

He rolls his eyes, wiping some sauce from the corner of his mouth away with his thumb before sucking it into his mouth and releasing it. “Idiot. Look, I was able to look past the pineapple on pizza thing - you psycho, but I can’t sit here and watch you eat the topping and then base like some lunatic.” You give him a blank stare so he continues his rant. “It’s like watching someone take a bite out of the middle of a burrito, or taking a bite out of a whole kitkat instead of breaking it apart. Were you raised by savages?”

You watch his face as you turn your empty pizza slice around, bringing it to your mouth and then take a bite out of the crust first and watch him look like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. “Some people just wanna watch the world burn, Matty.” You shrug, fighting the urge to cackle at his mouth hung open with wide mortified eyes.

“You’re gonna eat the rest of your pizza like that now, aren’t you?” He looks disgusted by the thought and you love it.

“Absolutely.” You agree without missing a beat and turn your face away to watch the TV again, ignoring Matty just staring at you while you continue to bastardize the simple act of eating a pizza. You continue to watch the movie, literally able to feel Matty’s disapproving stare on you. You can feel him cringe every time you bite into your pizza and can’t hide the amused look on your face.

“You know, you kinda remind me of a Mogwai.” Matty says all of the sudden sounding thoughtful, and you look sideways at him pausing your chewing.

“Why? Think if you feed me after midnight I’ll turn into a gremlin?”

You see that usual sly smirk on his lips. “No, I think if I got you wet, you’d surprise me.”

You drop your pizza into the box and whip your shocked face at him.

“Matty!”

He blows out a laugh that he was trying to hold in, and gives you a doe eyed coy look. “”What? I was gonna say you look like you’ve got strong legs, think you’d be a great swimmer.”

“Bullshit. That’s not what you meant and you know it.” You narrow your eyes at him, smacking his shoulder. Scrunching your lips up to not give him the satisfaction of a smile and it only makes him throw his head back giggling to himself.

As you continue to sit and watch the movie, you much preferred it when you were eating, having something to distract yourself and also do with your hands because now they’re just fidgeting in your lap which isn’t helped by Matty’s periodic stares at you. “You’ve got an interesting way of watching movies.” You dig at him with a dry tone, when his eyes are focused on the side of your face instead of the TV.

“You’ve got an interesting way of eating pizza, guess we all got our quirks.” He throws back, refusing to look away and you want to squirm on the spot with how anxious it is making you.

“Watch the movie, idiot.” You huff, barely being able to pay attention to what you’re seeing on the screen. Wanting to bite your tongue off when you accidentally glance at him and your eyes go to his mouth before snapping away. “Far more interested in what I’m watching right now, actually.” He says with a tilt of his head, and you close your eyes with a drawn out frustrated sigh.

He leans closer, barely keeping an inch between the side of your face and his nose, feeling his breath fan across your neck. You just keep your eyes planted firmly on the screen and dig your nails into the palms of your hands to soothe the way your heart nearly jumped out of your fucking body.

“You okay darling? Something you want?” He asks with a suggestive amused drawl that makes you clamp your teeth down on the inside of your cheek.

Don’t kiss his stupid face. Don’t kiss his stupid face. Don’t kiss his stupid face.

“I want you to watch the movie” You blurt with your voice hitching in your throat, which only makes him smile and look even more pleased with himself. He hums a disbelieving “Mm-Hmm.” But leans back, facing the TV again and you fight nearly throwing yourself off the couch when he shifts to lay down all of a sudden. He throws his feet up over the arm of the couch, laying on his back to pillow his head on your lap, lacing his fingers together on his chest and watches the TV with a casual expression.

“What are you doing?” You ask, hovering your hands above him with no idea where to put them, while he tries to hide his lips twitching up at the corners.

“Watching the movie like you told me to.”

You don��t know what to say, or what to do with your hands so you just stay rigid, swallowing down the dry feeling in your mouth and opt to rest your arms along the back of the couch to avoid touching him which only makes him grin.

There was a moment where Matty (you swear it was on purpose) moved one hand down to pull up the hem of his shirt over his stomach, acting like he had an itch he needed to scratch but then just left his hand on his exposed soft stomach and carved hips that his trousers had shifted dangerously low on. He rested his other arm hung above his head, the top of his arm rested against your thigh while his hand rested against the couch and his fingers made a habit of grazing against the side of your bare thigh occasionally.

By the time the movie was over your stomach was in that many knots you’d swear it was practising to be a sailor and your muscles ached in your body from how tense you had been the whole time. Matty acted completely oblivious to your distress, moving up off the couch and asked how he went about putting some music on and when you explained how to, you gave him a suspicious look when he put Elton John on from his phone to play through the Bluetooth speaker on the stereo. He came back to sit next to you, raising a brow. “Don’t act like you’re the only one with a good music taste, darling.”

You roll your eyes, but Matty just looks over your figure. “You seem tense. I want to try something, loosen you up a bit.” You look at him with panic flashing across your face, which makes him clarify what he means straight away. “I just meant to give you a head massage, I’m really good at them. Perks of all the years of shampooing hair with hairdressing, comes with the job.” You shake your head, leaning back. “Oh no, I’m good. I don’t like massages, let alone people touching me. It’s torture, not relaxing for me.”

You’d literally pay someone to not touch you if you could.

He pulls his lips to the side with a disbelieving look and tugs your hand again. “If you really don’t want me to touch you I won’t, but I’d like if you gave me a chance, I might surprise you.” You press your lips together in a flat line when he gives you the most pathetic begging puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen. For fuck’s sake. “Fine. But I’m telling you right now, I’m going to hate it.” Matty’s solemn expression turns into a bright smile, and he gestures between his legs spread apart where he is sitting. “Just say the word and I will stop whenever you want. Come on, sit on the floor between my legs.”

You roll your eyes again. “Bet you’re gonna love that, getting me on the floor between your legs.” You sigh, pulling yourself forward up off the couch and moving to sit on the ground between his legs with your shoulders against the back of the couch and his knees either side of your head. “Doesn’t do much for me unless you’re on your knees darling.” He jabs back, and for some reason it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. It’s like you’re just becoming accustomed to his crass sense of humour. At least you think he was joking. Right?

“It’d be a cold day in hell before that happened.” You quip and hear him laugh under his breath as he starts to run his fingers through the tops of your hair to pull it back away from your face. You feel your muscles constrict when his long fingers slide into your hair up from the base of your neck. You’re fighting your natural instinct to recoil away, and panic over someone being this close. You don’t know how this anxiety is ever meant to feel good.

You still don’t rightfully know why you’re even letting him do this. You know the answer is deep buried down, you’re not stupid but you’re refusing to acknowledge it because it will tumble you off a cliff you’re not ready to go down. Far better keeping those doors closed. You’re just humouring him.

Matty stays silent, as his fingers begin to work against your scalp, massaging his fingers in slow motions as he moves up your head.

…Oh.

You’re shocked by the feeling, it’s like you had strings pulled taught on every limb in your body that have just been cut and your body slumps, and the more his long fingers work it starts sending waves of tingles sending down your spine. Goosebumps prickle over your skin, and your head lulls back while your eyes close. “Just relax.” He coos, keeping his voice soothing.

Well this doesn’t feel…terrible.

You feel like a lump doll, like all the tension in your body is melting away. You’re always tensing some part of your body every second, whether it’s subconsciously clenching your jaw, tensing your shoulders or clenching your fists, always on the edge. You can’t even say you truly know what the meaning of relaxation felt like, you just assumed you weren’t capable of it. But right now you feel like you could melt into the floor.

 “Don’t you miss someone making you feel this good?” Matty doesn’t even sound like he is concentrating on what he’s saying.

“Can’t miss what you’ve never had, I guess.” You reply under your breath without thought, feeling your breathing shallow and you could literally moan at how incredible this feels. 

It’s the truth though, it’s a large part about why you’re so complacent about sex. Sure it has felt okay but if you’re being totally honest, you really don’t think you’ve ever loved a single hand that’s touched you. It has never been about you enjoying it, it was about you being enjoyable for the other person.

Never about you or how you felt, it was always about them. Your pleasure only mattered if it benefited them but for the most part they wanted you to inflate their ego, not actually make you feel good. Could’ve won an oscar with some of your performances. And those were the times you actually wanted to have sex…the other times, hell, you may as well have not even been a person. How you felt certainly didn’t matter then, and what you wanted didn’t matter either. Matty’s fingers pause in your hair and it makes you slowly blink your eyes open, jumping when you see his face way closer to yours than you expected.

His pupils are blown out, with his lids hooding his eyes and his brows are pinched together as he darts his gaze over your face. There’s several emotions mixing together over his face that are confusing you, there is sadness, irritation and to be honest you don’t know if hungry is an emotion, but he looks like that too.

Matty’s fingers slip from your hair as he slides his hands to hold either side of your face, and he leans in closer, flicking his eyes between yours. It’s getting harder to breathe, it feels like everything else in the room has evaporated - you can’t even hear the music.

His tongue darts out to dampen his lower lip, and his voice is soft but low as he speaks.

“I could show you, you know…I could make you feel good, if you let me.”

Your chest tightens at the same time as your stomach jolts when he dips his head down to lean close enough that his nose nudges your chin. “Can’t stop thinking about it, to be honest.” He murmurs, hovering his mouth over yours but not going further. His long fingers are on the underside of your jaw, tilting your chin up more until there is barely a hairs width between your mouths and you can almost feel his lips touch yours as he speaks. Your heart doesn’t know whether to give up or beat a hundred miles an hour, it feels like it’s trying to do both and your breathing is so shallow you can barely feel it. 

Matty takes the fact that you haven’t smacked him or yanked yourself away from him as a positive sign, because he nudges your lower lip with his own before murmuring “Dying to kiss you - but that’s up to you. Do you want to kiss me?”

Both sides of your brain are screaming at each other while your skin heats over your whole body. 

Don’t do it, idiot.

Matty sighs, slipping his tongue out to ghost against your lower lip and every organ you have clenches while you ball your hands into fists. “Go on darling, do whatever you want..” He dares in a low whisper.

Don’t do it.

It’s a split second before you’re sucking in a breath and closing the fraction of a distance between you, pressing your lips against his, feeling completely out of your mind.

God dammit, you idiot.

As soon as the pressure of your lips touching his happens, Matty takes a firmer hold of your jaw, drawing in a sharp breath through his nose before he starts to mould his mouth against your own. His slow careful movements are quickly replaced with hard and needy ones that have you feeling like you’re spinning while you’re sat still.

The kiss only lasts a few seconds, then his mouth is being torn from yours while he grabs under your arms to pull you up to your knees, turning and tugging you until you’re crawling up onto him. But the second you were facing him again his lips were connecting with yours as you struggled to keep up. You’re not even thinking, your body is just doing whatever the fuck it feels like apparently. It’s almost like you’ve blacked out, mind going blank and all you can do is just feel.

He keeps pulling you towards him until your knees end up either side of his hips, panting out low moans into the kiss that just becomes more intense the second he taunts your lips with his tongue and you welcome it with your own. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, boiling your insides along with it while his hands roam around your body like he can’t decide where to put them. You’re still not sure what to do with your hands, so they just move up to hold his face. Gripping around his sharp jaw that tense and flexes with the movements of his mouth.

His large palms slide down your back, grope at your hips before they move lower and pause for a second, like he’s hesitating until he finally moves them to take large handfuls of the flesh there through your shorts. You gasp into the kiss when he pulls you down against him at the same time that he groans low in his throat, digging his fingers into your behind. All of these situations are firing through you, making you feel high and drunk at once as Matty deepens the kiss, becoming frantic with his lips and tongue while his breathing starts to heave in his chest.

The moment that changes this from just kissing though, is when he tugs you against him at the same time that he rolls his hips up into your centre, grunting out a sharp moan the second your centres press against each other. He repeats the action again, using his grip on your behind to rock me against him as he snaps his hips up, making your breath hitch in your throat. You felt the very distinct excitement that swelled hard and strained against the denim of his trousers.

Shit.

A jolt of electricity zaps up your spine and floods your nerves, like it wakes a part of you that’s been dead for years when you feel him but it’s also the moment that hits you like a freight train and your body becomes stiff. Matty notices as soon as your demeanour changes, and your body freezes up. He lets go of your behind to grab your hips and hold them still, lifting them up while he pulls his lips from yours, gasping in deep breaths but keeps his mouth close to yours.

“I’m sorry.” He pants, pinching his eyes shut like he’s in pain and swallows. “Sorry - I got carried away, are you okay?

You catch your breath and just watch his face for a moment. He actually stopped? And he’s asking if you’re okay. Okay? Why?

Well that’s never happened before.

You lick your lips that feel raw, and try to sort your thoughts out but you keep getting distracted by his fucking mouth so you decide to look down between you two.

Terrible idea.

Christ, you’re surprised the zipper to his jeans hasn’t exploded open, that looks like it hurts trapped in those tight trousers.

You whip your eyes back up, and Matty notices where you looked so he chews on the corner of his lip. “Sorry about that too - but I really can’t help that at the moment. Need you to talk to me though, you okay? Did I make you uncomfortable? I didn’t mean to.”

You clear your throat and decide it’s easier to just look at his mouth than his eyes at the moment. You feel so fucking insecure right now.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable…that is kinda the problem.” You mumble, swallowing down your nerves. You don’t do honesty about your feelings well and you’re unsure how he has the ability to drag it out of you.

Matty ducks his face down trying to get you to look at him, keeping his voice soft but it’s hoarse in his throat. “Gonna need you to elaborate a bit, darling.”

You bite down on the inside of your cheek, and rest your hands against his chest. You feel his muscles there twitch and jump from the small contact and your insides do that weird flipping thing like they’re bloody gymnasts.

You take a deep breath, cursing yourself in your head at how stupid you think you sound. “It’s just - It’s been a long time for me with you know…sex, or anything like that in general and I’ve only known you for a couple of weeks, and most of that time I wanted to strangle you and now I’m kissing you. This is just really confusing for me, I enjoyed what was happening and I feel like I shouldn’t, sorry.”

A couple of weeks might be a long time to some people, and hardly any time for others.

Matty pauses to choose his words before he speaks, and brings his hand up to nudge his knuckle under your chin to force you to look at him. His face is earnest, but you don’t miss that giddy flicker in his eye but you’re not entirely sure why it’s there. “Look, I had no intention of trying to have sex with you tonight. I mean I really fucking want to right now, I’m just going to be honest about that. But I’m not a moron, I know that sort of thing is like…a sensitive topic for you and I’d never push you into that. I was just testing my luck with some kissing, I didn’t mean for it to get out of hand so fast.”

Your brows crease, unsure if you really buy that. “You really expect me to believe you weren’t going to pounce at the opportunity to have sex with me as soon as you had the chance?” Matty’s face falls, his lips pressing together as he leans back and sounds genuinely upset by your question. “Okay, first of all, you’re not an opportunity. And no, I wouldn't have. I don’t even have condoms on me - and I literally always have them on me. So even if you were the one that wanted to, I still would’ve said no.”

You look at your hands on his chest.

“You barely know me.”

“Time doesn’t equal value.” He states, trying to catch your eyes but you keep staring at your hands. “And you’re more valuable than you think.” He adds. He leans forward with his face washing over with that drunk look again and he darts his eyes to your lips. “Kiss me again?”

 “I don’t think that’s a good idea…I enjoy it too much. I don’t know if I could just kiss you, and then stop there? But I’m not ready to sleep with anyone yet.”

That almost feels like a bold face lie, because with how you felt a few minutes ago you’re not entirely sure you wouldn’t want to sleep with him.

You feel Matty’s chest jump with a sharp breath while your heart is hammering again, you feel all your blood rush to your face and Matty pulls your hips down to rest against his thighs and he smooths his hands down to rub against your own thighs. There is a drawn out silence again, until he leans forward, ducking his head to your neck and presses a kiss there. “That is fine with me, but…”

He starts to drag his lips up to your neck and your head tilts involuntarily to give him more access to it, feeling your tummy knot each time his warm lips touch your skin as he murmurs against it. 

“If you wanted to…There are a lot of other things we could do to make you feel good. Would you want that?” Regardless of how strongly you feel that this is a bad idea, and that you shouldn’t be doing this. But you dare anyone that’s been starved for years to have a mouth watering meal put in front of them, and not want to at least have a taste. Your subconscious is screaming at you over how stupid you’re being but you just can’t help it.

Matty sighs out a deep breath as his palms smooth up your thighs, his fingers grazing the insides of them while he kisses up to your jaw. “I’d be careful with you, we can stop whenever you want. Can I make you feel good?”

You swallow, breathing out a quiet “yes” while your eyes roll shut and Matty lets out an approving hum that sounds like a flustered mix of relief and excitement. He digs his fingers into your thighs to pull you forward again, dragging kisses from your jaw back to your mouth and nips at your lower lip which triggers you to connect your mouth with his again, savouring the feeling.

He breaks his lips away, only to nip and kiss at your lower lip between his words. “Tell me what you like.” He takes your lip between his teeth, to give it a gentle tug before releasing it and teases his tongue over it. “I’ll do whatever you like, just tell me.”

Matty waits for your answer but insecurity cripples you because you don’t know what to say because…well you Don’t know the answer. 

You’ve had plenty of sexual experiences but it has never been about what you liked, you have never thought about it.

Matty pulls back at your hesitation and his brows crease. “Don’t be shy, you can tell me.”

“I-” You clear your throat, feeling flustered. “I can’t tell you because, well I don’t exactly know.” His brows scrunch even further in confusion and you shrug your shoulders. “No one has ever asked me that before.”

His expression falls with a sigh as he presses his lips into an annoyed flat line. “We need to have a serious talk about the kind of assholes you have been with, but we can do that later.” He taps his fingers on your thighs as an indicator for you to get up. “C’mon, hop up.”

You give him a confused look with your stomach dropping as you stand, thinking that the fact you told him that made him change his mind and not want to touch you. But he stands when you do, grasping your hand and starts to walk over to your bedroom, looking over his shoulders and notices the insecurity on your face which he matches with a soft and determined look. “You don’t know what you like, and we are going to do something about it. I’m gonna help you figure it out.”

Your eyes widen at how matter of fact he sounds, but he stops just as you were about to reach your door and you hear wheezing and trotting footsteps behind you. Matty looks behind you to see Loki following, then looks to your face, cocking his eyebrow. “I know you love that dog, but he can’t watch. Doubt he’s gonna wanna see what I’m doing to his girlfriend either. I think he has seen enough already.”

You give him a flat look and that makes him bite on his lip with a cheeky grin ,a look that makes you want to kiss him again instead of slapping him like it used to. You look at Loki and point to the couch. “Sorry baby, couch tonight - I’ll make it up to you, I promise - go on, off you go.” Loki huffs and whines, before turning and hanging his head, walking away with slow steps and you immediately feel terrible. Matty notices the guilty look on your face, and pulls on your hand, tugging you into the room and shutting the door behind you before you can protest.

As soon as the door clicks shut his hands are grabbing your face, crashing his lips into yours to kiss you that hard you would have fallen over if his hands didn’t immediately let go of your face and grab your hips instead, hoisting you up until your legs wrap around him and you speak in shock at the action. He walks towards the bed, stumbling while he tries to blindly find his way and you’re surprised you both made it without him tripping and eating shit hitting the ground while he turns and falls back onto the bed.

His mouth continues to attack yours while he moves your legs either side of his hips and grabs the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and only breaking the kiss to tear it up over his arms and head before he tosses it and latches his mouth to yours again. Both of your chests are heaving while the air in the room feels like it shoots to a thousand degrees, and Matty grabs your hands to place them on his bare warm chest before his own hands explore over your torso in greedy frantic touches.

His hips roll up underneath you, grinding his centre against yours with a whine in the back of his throat and you’d snap your legs together at the sound if you could. Holy shit.

His fingers grab at the hem of your shirt as he starts to tug it up but then pauses. “Is this okay? Can I take this off?” He checks, his words muffled against your lips. You’re nodding before you can stop yourself, mumbling an agreeing ‘mhm’ against his lips. Next thing you know the material is being pulled up and torn off you, thrown aimlessly and his hands go back exploring all of the new exposed skin that they can. 

His lips kiss down your throat where he latches onto it, sucking at the spot above your collarbone with his ragged breathing hitting your skin. You whimper as he sucks and laps at the spot while his palms smooth up your back and his fingers stop at the back clasp of your bra. “Can I undo this?” He rasps, snapping the band of the back of your bra against your skin.

“Yes.”

He swallows as he continues to pant, dragging his warm tongue up your neck to your jaw as his fingers undo the clasp of your bra with impressive ease.

The material of your bra starts to slip from your body, and you gasp in surprise when his hands go to your shoulders, grabbing you and flipping you quicker than the crack of a whip and he’s hovering above you. He pauses looking down at you with his face flushed and unruly hair draped around his face, glancing to your bra laying loose over your chest and he takes hold of it, not taking his eyes away while he slips it down your arms and tucks his bottom lip under his teeth.

As soon as he drops your bra next to you on the bed your instinct is to cover your chest, looking away from him and you curse yourself for feeling so ashamed. Matty scolds out of breath, grasping your arms to pull them away. “Don’t hide yourself.”

You close your eyes when he removes your arms from in front of you, wishing it made you invisible. Matty curses under his breath and you don’t know if that’s good or bad. “Look at me, darling.” You keep your eyes closed and his voice becomes more stern. “Look. At. Me.”

You force your eyes open, sucking all the air you can into your lungs the second you see the look on his face, it’s enough to make you want to shrink back into the bed as he stares at you under his brows.

“I don’t know what the hell you think is wrong with your body…Because I can’t for the fucking life of me figure out a single problem with what I am looking at right now.” He says, slipping his palms higher. “Wanting to hide this” his fingers grope and knead at your skin as they go higher, and he gestures his face down referring to your bare torso “hiding this is just unacceptable.” He leans down, keeping his eyes on your face, kissing in between your sternum and then drags his lips up over your left breast with his breath heating your skin. “If I had it my way you’d never wear clothes again - I’m hooked now.”

You don’t know how something that was meant to be a compliment also sounded like a warning, but all you can do is watch helplessly while his mouth tastes and teases over your chest. You think you’re going to hyperventilate, you’ve never had something or someone be so damn intense.

To be fair, usually the sex would be over by now from your past experience. Very in and out, and over and done with. But he seems like he is in absolutely no rush at all. 

He pulls away just after he kitten licks at your nipple making your back arch up, and crawls off of you to stand at the edge of the bed, keeping his starving eyes on you as they dart all over your body like they can’t decide where to stay and he starts to undo his jeans, tugging them down once they’re open.

He lets out a relieved groan, once they’re down past his hips which you’re assuming is from the lack of restriction he has now and you try not to look while he shuffles them down his legs to kick them off but the hard bulge, begging to get out of his boxers is hard to miss.

He brings his fingers up to push his hair away from his face and sighs, looking like he is in pain. “You’re making it very hard to have self control right now, darling.”

You just stare at him with your brows twitching together. You chew on your lip, not sure what you should say while your chest rises and falls in slow but harsh breaths.

Matty rubs his hands over his face, groaning a strained ‘fuck’ into his hands, before dropping them and stepping forward to hook his fingers under the material of your shorts, flicking his intense eyes up to yours. “Can I take these off? I want you to get under the covers after I do, if that’s okay.” You give him a shy nod and he gives you a warning look in return. “You’ve got a voice darling, use it.”

“It’s okay.” You blurt under your breath, your ovaries feeling like they strangle themselves over the stern demanding tone of his voice. His mood flips again as he smiles, holding his tongue between his teeth. Which looks far too adorable of an expression to have while he’s getting you naked and starts to pull your shorts down along with your underwear, but keeps his eyes on your face. You hold your breath when he slips them off your legs and then drops them on the floor next to the bed, gesturing his chin towards the pillows. “Under the covers.”

You will your body to move, shuffling up the bed as he watches your face and once you tug the covers back and climb under he moves to follow you. “You’re leaving those on?” You question, glancing to his boxers and have no idea where you got the guts to even ask that. Intimate moments are when you’re most insecure and not even your wit can save you. He slides into the bed next to you, nudging you to lay on your back and then urges you to roll on your side with your back facing him. “Trust me darling, much better for my self control if I leave these on this time.”

This time.

You scrunch your face up in confusion, but then jolt when he scoots up behind you, wrapping his arm around your waist and slotting your shoulders flush against his chest that radiates heat through your body. He rests his mouth near your ear and starts to trace patterns over your abdomen with his fingers “I know it was a lot letting me see you, so I thought we could try something else. I want you to be comfortable. I’m going to ask you some questions, you can answer however you want - there’s no wrong answer, however I need you to use your voice okay? Nodding isn’t going to work for me.” He says in a gentle tone, flattening his hand against your stomach. There is a strange tug in your chest, over how observant and thoughtful of that he was and how foreign it is that someone is being to attentive towards you.

“Okay.” You breathe, biting down on your lip so hard you nearly taste blood when he leans up and his mouth goes to your neck again. “Don’t be offended - but you’ve had an orgasm before right?” He asks in between slow kisses down your neck, making his way to your shoulder.

“Yes.”

You think one word answers are the best you’re going to be able to drag out, because you’re even struggling with just those. He lets out a thoughtful hum, nipping at your shoulder as his hand moves higher to massage over your breast. “Has anyone else ever made you come? Or just yourself? Be honest.”

“Just myself.”

“Thought as much.” He sighs in a mutter, sounding annoyed but not towards you, your answer just seemed to frustrate him but he doesn’t sound surprised. “So you’ve never came during sex? Or from someone else touching you? Ever?”

“No.” You clear your throat, deciding to add “Just assumed I was defective or something, because I couldn’t.”

Matty pauses and leans over to look at the side of your face, but you just stare at your wall in embarrassment. “There is nothing wrong with you? Understand me? If you can make yourself come, so can someone else. Whoever you’ve been with either didn’t know what the fuck they were doing, or didn’t deserve to touch you in the first place - the idiots never even stopped to ask what you like or find out - they are the fucking problem.”

His words are firm and direct, and you’re so used to his cheeky light nature that hearing him sound so harsh and serious makes your muscles tense. You don’t know why all of this has struck such a nerve with him, but he obviously feels very strongly about it. Could’ve done with the lecture when you weren’t butt ass naked though.

“Point taken. I don’t have a broken vagina, good pep talk.” You quip with your voice tight, and the tension from Matty’s speech breaks when a bright chuckle vibrates in his chest.

“Definitely don’t think it’s broken…Maybe a little neglected but not broken.” He teases, and you’re just about to fire back at him but he slides his hand down to grab your thigh to lift it, running his fingers up the area where your leg meets your groin. “Only one way to find out though.”

Your belly coils that tight you’re just about to choke, your muscles twitching when he tickles his fingers over your pubic bone. “Can I touch you?” You bite down on the inside of your cheek, hard. Your hips have the urge to shift forward of their own accord to encourage him, and you’re trying to adjust to constantly getting asked permission. The normal side of your brain would have been sarcastic, but the hormonal one is the part that murmurs a shy “yes”

That three letter word has Matty’s fingers ghosting down, making you grit your teeth when his careful fingertips drag a slow stroke between your folds, a deep long exhale leaving his mouth as he does. His fingers move back and forth, exploring every slick bit of skin he can and you feel him shift on the spot behind you like he’s trying to get comfortable. “Feels pretty perfect to me, darling.” He murmurs, leaning down to press an affectionate kiss to your jaw. “Just relax, I want you to do something for me.”

He removes his hand from in between your legs, taking your hand that you hadn’t even noticed was clamping onto the sheets and moves it down with his own. “I want you to take my hand and show me what you like, when you touch yourself. What feels best for you. Just place your hand on top of mine and move my fingers however you want.”

“Matty I can’t do that.” You stutter while you try to comprehend what he just said. You’re definitely not comfortable enough for that but he just tutts you. “Yes you can.” He dismisses, placing your hands between your legs and moves his fingers to rest against the sensitive spot that’s started to throb. “Just close your eyes, and breathe. You can do it, and I’m not moving my fingers until you do. It’s up to you.” He applies more pressure but keeps his fingers still and you cuss under your breath, squeezing your eyes closed. 

How the fuck are you meant to cope with this?

“While you’re deciding…” Matty starts with a coy tone to his voice, still not moving his fingers that feel torturing at this point. “I’m pretty wrapped about the fact that I turn you on, feeling how soaked you are. Enjoy kissing me that much, do you?” You can’t answer, too distracted by the ache that’s getting worse between your legs. Matty just sounds amused now, and keeps talking with the smug expression evident in his voice. “What else turns you on, darling?”

You’re huffing out breaths through your nose fighting to keep your hips still, and Maty moves his lips to your ear. “What about dirty talk? That get you off? Let’s see if it does.” He drawls in a low voice that feels like it shivers down your spine at the drop of it. “Wanna know how much you turn me on, darling?” He breathes against your ear, his words slow and sound filthy enough from his tone, his hips press forward, his hard length clothed underneath his boxers circling against your behind and he moans. It has to be on fucking purpose with how drawn out it is, before he continues to speak. “You feel that. Rock fucking hard for you, and this is not the first time either.”

Does air exist? Because you can’t seem to find it. 

“Know what I did last night?” He drags out, continuing to rock his hips against you while that ache between your legs makes you want to scream. While you try to shift your hips he is pinning you back against him to hold you still. “Just move my fingers love, you know what to do.” He taunts and you growl in frustration at the back of your throat which only makes him smile. “Now where was I? Oh yeah, last night..I had a shower, you know what I did while I was in there?” You try and stop the strangled moan that echoes in your throat when he circles his erection against your behind in slow hard movements but your body betrays you.

“Was thinking about you, thinking about how badly I wanted to kiss you.” He murmurs, moving his head to press a kiss to your shoulder. “And I got to fucking hard, I couldn’t even concentrate. So I wrapped my fingers around myself…leant my other hand against the wall and started to fuck my fist, started slow and got faster and faster the more I thought about you, what it would be like to touch you, have you in the shower with me, all the things we could do. And then you know what happened?”

You swear on your unborn children that you’re going to suffocate to death. You can’t even explain what is happening to your body at the moment, it feels like every ending nerve you have is screaming. Matty’s breathing gets heavier as he continues to grind himself against you, while his voice becomes thicker and he damn near moans his words out. “I came…really, really fucking hard. Could barely hold myself up, making filthy sounds I couldn’t control, felt so good darling, so fucking good.”

The image that is now burnt into your brain is going to fucking kill you, along with the sound of his voice. Your throat feels like it’s closing on itself and you can’t take this anymore so you suck in a sharp gasp and use every ounce of non-existent self confidence you have. 

You grab his hand, placing yours over his and press his fingers against your aching nerves, whining at the relief when you start to move his fingertips in slow circles. 

Matty’s lips pull into a grin against your shoulder, and he hums to himself. “Guess we can add dirty talk to the things that turn you on, then.”

You circle your hips back against his fingers whimpering at the feeling. This is mind numbing.

“You really enjoyed that, didn’t you? Matty coos, sounding breathless as his hips grind harder against you. “Didn’t know it was possible for you to get even wetter, making a mess of my fingers lovely girl.”

You’re going to have to get a priest to bless your showerhead, so you can cleanse yourself under the water for a week straight after listening to that filthy mouth of his.

You decide you’re not going to be the only one that’s a mess and push your behind back against his length as you start to work his fingers faster at the pressure and speed you know will unravel this painful knot in your gut the way you need it to. Matty grunts a low, guttural sound with a strained “Oh fuck” following it, and thrusts his centre hard against you, dropping his humid forehead against your shoulder. His fingers keep up the rhythm you have going, pushing me closer to that devastating feeling that’s making your stomach muscles start to tremble and you drop your hand away, unable to keep it there anymore and dig your nails into the mattress.

You haven’t even had a thought about what you should be doing, the sounds you should be making or how you should be reacting because that is all you used to do - making sure you were reacting the way the other person wanted but right now you can’t think of a god damn thing, all you’re doing is relishing how incredible this feels. His fingers continue to mimic the exact motions you showed him, playing your body like an instrument he mastered in minutes and you start to writhe against him while he grinds his centre against you like he’s consumed by his own movements.

“Oh god.” You gasp, your breath hitching in your throat. “Faster, please? I need - please go faster.” You beg sounding incoherent, you just need that last little push to unravel everything. Matty moves his face to hover over yours, and you barely recognise his voice with how low and hoarse it is. “You gonna come for me, lovely girl?”

You bite down hard on your lip, scrunching your eyes shut tighter with a sharp desperate nod and Matty nudges his nose against your cheek. “Kiss me- and I’ll go faster. I’ll make you feel so good I promise, darling just kiss me.”

Honestly he could’ve asked you to eat a shit sandwich at this point and you would have.

You turn your face, with his lips capturing yours as soon as they’re in reach and immediately the kiss is desperate. It’s wet tongues and careless lips while his fingers quicken against your sensitivity and he captures every single one of the choked moans that leave your throat. Every muscle in your body tenses as that coil in your abdomen unravels and pulses out from your lower half through your body in shock waves, spasming your nerves and constricting your stomach as it does while your hips thrust and roll to ride the feeling as it washes over you.

Matty’s fingers continue to drag the feeling out, pulling high pitched whimpers and strangled moans out of your chest while your kissing becomes uncoordinated until he stills his open mouth against yours as his hips jolt forward. He chokes out a whimpered “oh my fucking god” against your mouth, his own body jolting and trembling while his centre rolls against your arse until you feel a liquid warmth against your skin soaked into the fabric of his boxers.

You jolt your hips away when you become too sensitive from his fingers. Both of you are panting, with Matty’s forehead against your own and his long hair that’s become damp in places is tickling against your cheeks. He presses lazy kisses to your lips, sighing to himself and finally slips his hands from between your legs when your hips still, hugging his arm around your waist like he can’t get close enough to you.

“You feeling okay, darling?” He asks with a tired voice.

“Really good, good, I’m great.” You sigh, sounding groggy and you can’t string a sentence together. Orgasms are great. You’re so sleepy. Matty laughs under his breath at how spent you are, sounding pleased with himself. 

“You know I haven’t came in my boxers since I was about 12, so thanks for the nostalgia.” He muses with a giggle. “You’re welcome.” You hum, half asleep and barely paying attention to what he is saying.

“I need to clean myself up before I fall asleep, but I kind of ruined my boxers…So you wouldn’t have any shorts I could sleep in, would you?” You hear the slightest hint of bashfulness in his voice. You smile to yourself.

“Yeah I do.”

#i hate this #the 1975 #matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty healy smut #every time i post i want to delete tumblr right after

[seohwang]

XXXX.

First kisses with Ateez - Jongho ver.

Genre: fluff

Word count: 755

Warnings: none, Jongho is just too smooth for his own good, that's all

A/N: While working on my other bigger projects, I've decided to post another member's part of my First kisses with Ateez reaction series!! This time, the member of choice is Jongho, as I've been especially focused on him lately. Hope you enjoy and see you again soon! ♥

A/N 2: Btw, this is part of a small event I did on both this blog and my other, more nsfw one, @kp-alice! Go check it out if you're interested in some fun sub!yeosang smut ♥

Now, I think Jongho is a simple man

Not in a bad way, of course not!!

He just likes to take things at a slow, comfortable pace, especially when it comes to relationships

So he would definitely be one of the less nervous members when it came to your first kiss

He wouldn’t worry about it much, deciding that he’d stress about it when it actually happened

And in the meantime, he'd want to get to know you as much as possible, resulting in many relaxed, quiet dates where the two of you would get to hang out and talk, or even just vibe silently in the other’s presence

Whether it would be at a park, at home, or at some cute and cozy café - much like right now

You were just planning on taking a short walk around, wanting to enjoy the unexpectedly pleasant weather today

But then you saw this cool hand-made artisan shop, and this beautiful public art display, and-

Before you knew it, you strayed way off your original starting point, walking through unknown streets and exploring your new surroundings

Had it been just you walking around, you would have been a bit worried by now, pulling out your phone to try and find your way back

But with Jongho, you knew you had nothing to be concerned about

He just held your hand and pulled you along, a small smile never leaving his lips as he did so

And really, this did help you relax and allow yourself to roam freely

Until you noticed the sullen, grey sky looming above you, warning the two of you that the weather wouldn’t be staying nice for much longer

You told Jongho right away, making him reluctantly agree with you to call it a day just to be safe

But not even a few minutes later, rain started falling from the sky, growing in intensity with every street you passed

This alone would have been doable, but once the freezing wind picked up as well, you were starting to question your life decisions

Noticing your wet shirt, Jongho offered you his jacket to warm yourself up, but you quickly refused, not wanting him to get sick

But Jongho obviously didn’t want that for you either

And so, after a second failed attempt at convincing you to just take the jacket because he’d rather catch a cold himself than have you suffer, he thought of a different plan

Before you knew it, you were being pulled into the nearest café, a small bell chiming above your head as you entered

You tried to protest, but Jongho just gently shushed you, tugging you with him to a cozy table tucked in a far-away corner

There, he helped you get seated before taking off his jacket and sitting down next to you

“Jongho, we really don’t have to stay here, we’re not that far from-” “Of course we’re staying. I’m freezing cold and I was wearing more layers than you. No way I'm letting you out there before the rain stops,” he quickly retorted before reaching for the menu on the table

“But,” you tried again, nervously biting on your lip as you continued, “I didn’t even bring any money, I didn’t expect us to order anything today…”

You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, silently scolding yourself for leaving your purse at home

The entire day was going great, but now you were going to ruin it with a small, stupid mistake

You wanted to apologize, to try and maybe save this situation somehow, but then…

???

Before you could say anything, you felt Jongho’s lips on yours, effectively shutting you up

Instinctively, you closed your eyes, resting a hand on his thigh for support as you leaned in for more

Shortly after, Jongho pulled away, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear

“And who said I’d let you pay?” He retorted with a smile, lowering his hand to cup your cheek, “I chose to bring us here so it’s my treat. All you need to do is warm yourself back up and stop worrying.”

And with that (and a light blush blooming on his face), he turned back to the menu, skimming the drinks to find something for the two of you while you still sat there, shocked

Needless to say, thanks to Jongho, you did feel a lot warmer already.

Thank you so much for reading! And remember, feedback is always appreciated!! <3

#ateez x reader #jongho fluff #jongho x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #jongho imagines #ateez fluff #atz fluff #ateez oneshots #jongho oneshot #ateez oneshot #ateez headcanons #jongho headcanons #jongho imagine #jongho headcanon #ateez fanfic #jongho scenarios

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Guiding Hand 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, parental neglect, depression, inference of self harm, violence, abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your online academics are affected by your personal struggles but your professor won’t let you give up so easy.

Characters: Raymond Smith, Lee Bodecker in the background

Note: I'm a sleepy baby.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Another unit done. You’re not certain how you’ve kept it up but you’re just waiting for your motivation to fizzle out. Each activity, each page, you teeter on the edge of oblivion. Workbook Five is almost complete and Six will be the final for the course. There’s a shell of disbelief around you. You really did it. 

Well, not quite yet. 

You sit back and stretch your neck and shoulders. Your teachers always told you to stop hunching but your shoulders always curled forward and your neck sunk anyway. Not out of defiance, just to make yourself small, maybe even, invisible. 

You stand, fingers cold and slightly numb. It’s a rainy day and the cold seeps in as your mother keeps the radiator off. You tuck your hands into your hoodie sleeve and find your slippers, a faded old pair that used to be somewhat fluffy. 

It’s quiet. You haven’t heard your mother at all. It’s not too unusual. After a binge, sometimes she just sleeps all day and night. You don’t like it, you don’t like that it’s normal, but it’s just how she is. How it is and always will be. 

Well, you’re trying to change yourself. You can’t change her or this place. 

You open the door slowly and peek out. A habit. You emerge quietly and rub your nose with your cuff, sniffing behind your sleeve as you shuffle into the kitchen. You do your best not to make too much noise as you fill the kettle. You have a few more bags of green tea, the you’re all out. You need to go back to the grocery store but the food credits won’t come until next week. 

You turn the dial on the stove and lean against the front as the kettle sits on the back burner. You close your eyes, groggy and slightly dizzy. You’ve been staring at numbers for so long, you don’t even know what time it is. Morning at night, you can’t tell by a glance through the gray window. 

You yawn again. Maybe chamomile might be a better choice. You lift your head and lean back on your heels as you mull the decision. The floor creaks with your weight as you shift indecisively. You’re not even sure you have any left.  

As you back up, you collide with something, someone, else. You grunt as suddenly there’s a clamp around your neck and you’re shoved forward against the stove. You brace the edge, careful not to touch the top as the heat from the burner radiates across the metal. 

Lee’s chuckle brushes over your hair, “there you are, girl. You been hiding.” 

“Eek, no--” you squirm and writhe. 

He’s too strong. He pushes harder and you’re forced to bend, precariously hovering over the stove, the kettle not far from your cheek. You squeak as your slippers scuff on the floor between his feet. 

“Please--” 

“You should be begging,” he snarls, “little girl like you, messing where she shouldn’t be.” 

“I’m sorry,” you squeal, “you were hurting her--” 

“Ain’t none of your business, is it?” He jolts you and you nearly hit your head off the back of the stove. He grabs your wrist with his other hand as he pinches your neck tighter. “Your mama likes it rough, don’t ya know? Walls ain’t that thick.” 

You whine and struggle to resist him as he brings your hand up, angling it towards the kettle as you hear that water starting to hum. You can feel the heat roiling from it. You push back against him, pressing your hand to the back of the stove to get better leverage. 

“Want me to hurt you? Is that it? Tired of just listening,” he snorts, your hand shaking close to the kettle as you babble, “suppose like this, won’t be too bad.” 

He wiggles his pelvis against you and you hiccup in fear. You twitch and he shoves your hand against the kettle. You cry out as it scalds your skin, steam hissing through the spout and towards your face. Your eyes well and you gnash your teeth. 

“Pl-please,” you plead and he lets go of your arm, framing your hip instead.

He pulls you back against him, “Mmm,” he shakes his hips again, “think I could. You ain’t bad from behind.” 

Horror erupts up your throat as you scramble desperately, trapped by his weight. You grab onto the handle of the kettle, even as your burnt flesh screams, and you hurl yourself back. He staggers as you swing the heavy vessel in his direction but it only splashes on your slippers as he dodges away from you. A flare of anger lights up his blue eyes. 

“Ha,” he sneers at you, “you’re funny, girl. Got a whole lotta fight for nothing. Far as I can tell, ain’t no other man around to want you. Not even your daddy.” 

You lower the kettle, breathless and terrified. The sting of his word wounds more than the blistering flesh on your fingers. You shake your head. 

“Leave me alone,” you croak. 

“Hmph,” he curls his lips, “just you wait,” he eyes you up and down. 

You stand, paralysed by the stove. He stomps away and you watch him go, not daring to move. When you hear your mother’s door slam, you shakily set the kettle on the countertop. You turn your hand over an examine your palm, the sight of it adding to the agony. 

You don’t know how you can write now. 

📓

You tap the mousepad twice to get it to react. Your poorly wrapped hand makes everything double the task. You huff as you switch hands, awkwardly navigating to the email icon. You expand the window and find a new email. Professor Smith. 

‘Thank you for your last submission. I have reviewed your work and would like to provide feedback via Zoom if possible. Please provide times which work for you. 

Looking forward to speaking again. 

Take care, 

Raymond’ 

As usual. He is very direct. You can almost appreciate that about him and yet it does not rein in your paranoia. Feedback via Zoom? Why? Can’t he just write it down? Did you do something wrong?  

Ugh. You slump and stare at the keyboard. It can’t be avoided. You haven’t even started Six because of your hand. Maybe a review would be helpful. Besides, it would be a waste to give up now. It wasn’t so bad before, was it?  

You hit reply and key in your response slowly with one hand. 

‘Hello Professor, 

I can do anytime tomorrow.  

Thank you.’ 

It isn’t the most academic or professional response. You don’t know what else to say. You have no schedule to adhere too, you can only hope your mom isn’t making a racket. 

You send and close up the laptop. You have to rewrap your hand. It’s really hurting but you’ve been rationing the Polysporin. You just want it to heal quick so you can finish your work. 

📓

Professor Smith confirms for nine in the morning. You make sure you’re awake but your head is pulsing. Your sleep schedule is all off. You opt for a plain long-sleeved tee over the hoodie, trying to appear as presentable as you can. Nothing you own can compare to his tidy attire; you recall his sweater and stiff collar. Often, you find yourself wilting over how he must think of you. Just like everyone else does, you suppose. 

You get set up. Your room isn’t too bad. You’ve been trying to keep up on it. Your laundry is in a basket although the bookshelf is getting a bit cluttered again. Oh well, he won’t be able to see much around you. 

You open the laptop. Ten minutes to go. You can hardly sit still. Your anxiety peaks as you hear your mom’s voice from down the hall. It’s early for you, but even earlier for her. 

There’s a knock at the door, “honey, do we got any coffee left?” 

“Mom,” you get up and go to the door, cracking it open, “I left enough for a pot in the tin. I’m still waiting on the credits.” 

“Oh,” she smiles through the narrow space, “Lee musta used them the last of it.” She smiles. She’s drunk. She hasn’t just woken up, she’s been awake all night. She turns and waddles away unsteadily, “baby, we got no coffee.” 

You sigh and shut the door. You go back to the computer. Please don’t make a ruckus. You don’t need another scene. 

You click the meeting link and fidget. You’re not ready. Are you ever? Life is just doing things you’re unprepared for. 

You wince as Professor Smith appears on the screen. He greets you by name and you return a ‘hello, professor’. 

“Good morning?” He asks brightly. 

You shrug, “yeah, I guess...” you look one way then the other, uncertain, “how are you, professor?” 

“Great, thanks for asking,” he reaches for a tall mug and takes a sip before exhaling, “so, I suppose you would just like to get this over with.” 

“Um, no, er, I...” 

“Not saying anything about you,” he assures as he leans forward, crossing his arms over the desk. His eyes scan through his lens and you realise he must be reading something on the screen, “you’ve done wonderful work. I especially wanted to high light a few things.” 

“Oh, uh, yeah, I probably made some mistakes,” you clumsily click around as his image remains in the corner of the screen. You hiss as your fingers throb and open the workbook. 

“On the contrary, it’s perfect. In fact, you’ve managed to bring my own error to light. I was certain at first it wasn’t me but I went in a redid the work for Problem Eight. Clever.” 

You sit back and nod, surprised.

There’s a thump and your mom’s voice, met by Lee’s rumbling timbre. Muffled enough that their words can be deciphered but you worry it is still heard through the microphone. You clear your throat and move closer, sitting up as you bring your injured hand to rub your neck. 

“A lot going on?” Smith wonders. 

“No, sir, sorry, I wasn’t expecting it,” you shrug and scratch your cheek, the gauze rough and loose. 

“Oh my, what’s happened there? Are you alright?” 

You pause and jerk as another bang sounds and your mother’s cackle erupts, stopping sharply 

“Yes, sir,” you quickly hide your hand, “I had an accident. Um, I was going to ask... it’s taking me a while to type...” 

“By all means, we may discuss accommodations,” he assures, “I am, as ever, patient. Most importantly, you must take care of yourself.” 

“Sir,” you nod and your door rattles in the frame. “Um...” you glance over your shoulder. Why now? 

“Are you certain this isn’t a bad time?” 

“I’m sorry,” you face the laptop, “I didn’t think--” 

“Hey, you lazy bitch!” A hard rap shakes the door behind you, “get out here.” 

You go wide-eyed and stare at the screen. No. Please. Not again. 

Professor Smith’s brow ripples and his jaw squares, “it seems you’ve got some chaos over there.” 

“It’s just... I... one sec,” you bring the call full screen and search for the controls and hit mute. You stand up and go to the door, trying to block it out with your body. You open it as Lee smirks back at you, “we’re all outta coffee. Why don’t you go and get us some?” 

He holds up a ten dollar bill and flicks it against your nose, “y’ain’t got nothing else to do.” 

“I’m busy,” you say, “can it wait a few minutes?” 

“Busy?” He snips, “with what? You can watch your damn TV when you get back.” 

“Sorry, but I can’t--” 

“Lee, she’ll go in a bit,” your mother preens from down the hall. 

“I got a damn headache, she can drag her ass out right now,” he barks back at her, “it’s my money, ain’t it?” 

“Please, I’m... just after.” 

“Why? Whatcha hiding?” 

“Nothing, it’s school--” 

He shoves the door and you stumble back, hitting the bookshelf with your shoulder. He bulls past you and looks around, his eyes narrowing on your laptop. You turn to see the professor watching intently from his side of the call and you scurry to catch up with Lee and stop him. He elbows you away, tossing you against your bedframe. You hit it and crash to the floor. 

“I see, you entertainin’,” he scoffs and hits the keys several times. 

“Who are you, sir?” Smith asks, his tone cool but dangerous. 

You hear the little blip that signals the mute is off, “should ask ya the same. Whatcha doin’ talkin’ to young girls, eh?” 

“Is she your daughter?” Smith challenges and gets a chortle in return. 

“Nah, just a whore like her mother, ain’t she? You’d know better than me.” 

You get to your knees and grab at his hand, “please, he’s my professor.” 

“Don’t lie to me. Irene,” he spins as he hollers for your mother, “come see what your daughter’s doin’." He pauses to grit over his shoulder, "If ya gonna be whorin’ on the internet, you should at least try to get some money outta it.” 

“Huh, Lee, leave her alone,” your mom appears in the doorway and you crawl past Lee, keeping low as you reach up to keyboard and feel around. 

Professor Smith says your name but you hold the power button until the laptop fan slows and quiets. You sit back on your heels and look over as Lee peers around your room. Your mom sways in the doorway. 

“Who was that?” She asks. 

“I told him, it’s my professor--” 

“You ain’t smart enough for all that book stuff,” Lee growls, “go on and keep lyin’.” 

“Why do you care?” You sniff. 

“Honey, don’t be rude.” 

“Mom,” you whine, “he shouldn’t be in here.” 

“Lee, baby, I’ll go get the coffee,” she redirects. You hang your head. 

“I want her to go,” he turns and throws the ten at you, “the way she leach of ya, it’s the least she can do.” 

You wince, “it’s okay, mom, I can go.” You grab the desk and stand, swiping up the bill. You need to get out of this apartment. Staying will only make him angrier. Staying will only make she shame worse. 

#raymond smith #dark raymond smith #dark!raymond smith #raymond smith x reader #the gentlement #series #fic #a guiding hand #dark fic #dark!fic #au

[roonyxx]

Healing Love: part 1

Summary: You have a normal life as a nurse, and you are content with it. But then a storm called Dean Winchester rolls into it and you get swept away by his charms. But secrets linger and threaten to drown you both.

Pairing: Dean x Witch!nurse!reader

Word count: 2084

Chapter warnings: fluff, wounds and medical stuff (i am no professional and have no idea what the real treatments are)

A/N:  This series is dedicated to @deans-spinster-witch she's always been very supportive of my work and I found that she deserved a little treat. She gave me an idea for a new series and i really liked it! so this one is for you @deans-spinster-witch! thank you so much for supporting me! I choose to go with Quinn, i hope that’s okay for you ;)

support me :)

Healing Love Masterlist

My Masterlist

Deviders made by @firefly-graphics, give her some love!

Y/n Pov

You knew you had to buy a new clips for his collar. You don’t have time for him to chase squirrels, you hurry after your dog. Who, usually, listens very well but decided that today he does not…

“Quinn! Get back here!” You jog after him in the street.

It’s the main street, god you hope he doesn’t run into oncoming traffic…

“Quinn!”

You see him running right up to a tall man eating a burger. Which contains Quinn’s biggest addiction, pickles..

You try to yell at the man to warn him but Quinn is faster and jumps up at him, hitting the man right into the thighs and making him loose his balance and fall backwards.

You run faster to get to them, and grab Quinn’s collar as soon as you can grip it and tug him off the man.

“Bad Quinn! oh god, I’m so so-” You look up at the man and are completely lost for words.

Before you is by far the most gorgeous specimen of men you have ever seen.

His green eyes captivate you and pull you in like a new point of gravity. You have never seen this colour of green before in someone’s eyes. They have the colour of forest lit up by sunbeams peeking through the foliage.

His face is dusted entirely with freckles who are more concentrated on his nose and cheeks. His jaw is strong and sharp. And his hair is a dark blond and wildly tossed around by Quinn’s nose currently buried deep within the strands.

“Quinn!” You tug him back to free this beautiful stranger of the assault.

You offer him your other free hand, “I am so sorry, Sir.”

He gives his hand and grabs yours tightly. You tug him to a standing position.

“Oh wow, you got quiet a grip there.” He smile and looks at you, his eyes scanning your face and then quickly going down your body.

“Are you hurt? I am so sorry… Quinn never is like this usually. Are you hurt?” You ask him.

“It’s okay, no really, I should have paid attention.” He glances at your dog and smiles, “He’s lucky he’s cute,” then looks back at you, “And that his owner is cute too.”

You don’t know what to say, your face goes red.

He holds out his hand, “I’m Dean.”

You take his hand and shake it, “Y/n, let me offer you a new burger, I insist.”

Dean looks down at where his burger fells and Quinn is trying to get it. You tug him back.

“It’s okay, I take it as a sign that maybe I should cut down on burgers a little.” He chuckles softly. “But I’m more than okay with taking you out for a coffee, Y/n.”

You like the way he says your name way too much…

“I-“ how can this gorgeous man be asking you out? He seems the type to date super models, your curves are a little more… accentuated than other females. But they help you with the heavy lifting in your job.

Your job that you are currently late for, you gasp and check your watch.

“Shit! I- I would love to but I’m already running late. I need to drop of Quinn before I go to the hospital.”

“Oh right.” He points to your uniform, “I will let you go then, but can I have your number? Perhaps we can do a raincheck?”

He gives me the most dazzling smile and you temporarily forget to breathe.

You make Quinn sit between your legs and clamp him in place. With your now free hand you grab his and grab a pen from one of your many pockets and scribble your number down on his palm.

“There, I’m down for a raincheck.” You smile and grab Quinn’s collar.

“I’ll wait for your call, Dean.” You say as you start walking away.

“I will!” he yells back.

It’s been 3 days and you still didn’t receive a call. You already gave up hope after two days.

Are you surprised? Not really, he’s way out of your league.

So when your phone lights up with an unknown number the third day at almost midnight you pick up thinking it is a spammer.

“Im not interested in what you’re selling.” You answer.

“I- uhm, is this Y/n? It’s me Dean.” He sounds a little out of breath?

“Dean! Oh shit sorry, I have a lot of spammers who call me. Are you alright?” Maybe he’s the workout type of guy?

“I-“ a low grunt that instantly puts you on alert makes you sit up from your couch.

“Dean?”

“I wanted to call you sooner but something got in between, I’m sorry for calling so late but I’m driving around and I might need your nurses skills…”

He sounds in pain… and he’s driving?

“What happened? On what street are you?” You ask in a hurry.

You jump up and put the phone between your cheek and shoulder while you get your first aid kit out and ready.

He gives you the street name and you direct him towards your place.

“Tell me what happened.”

“I have a cut on my shoulder, not very deep but I’m bleeding and will need stitches.” He answers while you hear his car roar in the background.

You note how he doesn’t tell you what happened. But the info he gave is exactly what you need. You start prepping your stitch kit and gauze.

“My house is the one with the green car in front.” You say, and you can hear his car turning into your street.

“I see it.”

You run outside, hanging up the phone as he parks up your driveway.

If he wasn’t bleeding, you would admire his beautiful car. But there are more important things happening now.

You grab the door handle of the driver side and pull open the door.

“Shit.” You say when you see his sleeve drenched in blood, “ You said it wasn’t that deep!”

“It looks worse than it is.” He grunts while turning off the car and grabbing the keys.

You carefully help him out of his car and into your house.

Your hands start tingling at the smell of the blood. The magic inside you is screaming to heal this man, to knit his skin back together and fight of any risk of infection. But you don’t let it surface. You can deal with this the normal way.

You sit him down in your kitchen chair and cut away his shirt.

“Shouldn’t you buy me a drink before ripping of my clothes?” he tries to joke but you can see him wincing and you nod towards the pill and glass with water on the table.

“Take the med, it will help with the pain.”

He takes it without hesitation.

You look closely at the wound while putting on gloves and begin to clean it out.

It is deeper than you thought but stitches will be enough to close it. You do wonder how it happened. It’s a very long, clean cut. Your best guess would be a sword cut.

“So you’re a knight or something? Deep breath, I will start stitching” you warn before you pinch the needle through his skin and begin to sew his skin back together.

“A knight?” he wonders.

“It looks like you got cut by a sword.” You say while focusing carefully. You notice he doesn’t even flinch when you thread the small string through his skin.

“A katana actually, how do you know?” You can feel the prickles on your face from his intense stare searching your face.

“I’ve seen a lot of wounds at work, after a while you start to recognize them.”

“Oh yeah, that makes sense, how long have you been a nurse?” He asks you.

“Seven years in November.”

“Do you like it?” He tilts his head in question.

“It’s hard, physically, emotionally,” you sigh and make a final knot and cut off the thread, then start to wrap up as much as you can, “but yes, I love it, helping people, it’s who I am.”

“There, all finished. No tugging, keep the bandage on for at least a day. Try to keep it dry. The stitches can come out in 10 days.” You explain to him.

“Oh wow, that was fast. Okay, no tugging, no water.” he smiles, “Thank you so much.”

“I guess it makes us even for Quinn attacking your burger.” You chuckle.

At the sound of his name his familiar tipper tapper feet come running towards you and gently nuzzle your thigh. You tug off your gloves and reach down to stroke his black and white head. He peeks up at you with slightly greying eyes. Damn cataracts. He’s a little old, but he’s still perfect. He’s a medium sized dog, a border collie corgie mix. Perfect for training, and he listens well, if… there are no burgers involved.

Dean smiles at Quinn and rubs his face, “He’s so cute. I can’t blame him for wanting a burger. I would take down someone for it too.” He chuckles.

Dean glances up at me, “So I have to wait 10 days to see you again?” He asks.

“You don’t have to wait, I could change the bandage tomorrow if you’d like.” You smile and start putting away all your things.

“I’d like that, but only if you come like that.” He gives you a knowing grin and points to your Viking pyjamas.

You turn red as a beet, with his urgent call you forgot all about the way you were dressed. Your pyjamas are simple, a t-shirt and shorts, an ode to your favorite TV series. You’ve had them for years, they’re all worn out and sit tightly on your body.

With no bra, you can assure there is little left to the imagination…

“Sorry- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Dean quickly says “You look beautiful, like really.”

You start smiling at the blush that makes his freckles stand out. Even his ears, that you now noticed are slightly pointy, turn red.

“Thank you, sorry for your shirt…” you tug at his cut of shoulder part.

He shrugs, “It was old.”

You two stare at each other as the tension rises. You glance at his lips, pink and plump, perfect for kisses and many other things.

When you look up you can see his eyes were wandering towards your chest, to your hardened nipples.

He clears his throat and stands up suddenly.

“Thank you, but I should get going. It’s already late and my brother will be worried.”

“Right, yes of course, I have an early shift tomorrow so I shouldn’t be up so late. Can you drive? I can give you a ride?” You offer.

“I can, it feels much better already.” He moves his arm to proof it.

“Here,” you hand him a box with a few meds “One a day for 3 days.”

He takes it and puts in his pocket, thanking you for it.

You guide him towards the door and open it for him to leave.

“So… I see you tomorrow? At seven?”

You smile, “At seven works for me.”

He’s lingering in your door, his eyes on your face.

You take a step closer but don’t move more.

You want to kiss him…

“I – uhm..” he starts.

Quinn takes that as his cue to jump and put his front paws on the back of your kneesw, making you stumble into Dean. You put your hands on his chest to catch yourself.

“Oh! I’m so so-“

Your sentence is cut off by a pair of perfect lips, slanting over yours. His hand cups the side of your face while his tongue brushes your bottom lip, asking for entrance.

Which you grant him. You can’t help the moan that escapes you when his tongue dances with yours.

This kiss feels like the first rays of sun after a long winter. It’s warm, soothing, and hints at hot evenings and sweltering nights.

And then a cloud passes over and the heat slowly disappears as he pulls back.

A low whine falls from your lips as you try to chase his lips.

A chuckle sounds in your ears and makes you look up in those incredible eyes.

“At seven. It’s late and you have an early shift.” He smiles.

You don’t mind the heat crawling over your face and nod as he steps back to his car.

“At seven, drive safe, Dean.” You say when he gets inside.

You stay in your door opening until his car turns out of the street, you turn, close your door and look at Quinn.

“You sneaky little match maker.” You chuckle and bend down to pet him.

His tail is wagging excitedly.

“Thank you, Quinn.”

Forever Tags 2024: @jay-and-dean @flamencodiva @snowlovespie @awkward-and-indecisive @hobby27

Dean tags 2024: @akshi8278 @pink-sparkly-witch @verytoadpapersoul @eevvvaa

Healing Love tags: @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573

send me an ask if you want to be on any of my tag lists! (or if you want to be removed)

#roonyxx #spn fanfic #dean x nurse!reader #dean x y/n #smut #spn #supernatural #supernatural series #dean winchester #sam winchester #roonyxx's supernatural masterlist #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction

[daydreams-after-dark]

can we talk about a sub police officer han >.> like with a criminal reader because i know we all saw how he held that toy gun in skz code 😭

I read this ask before I watched skz code… then I saw it and I knew what you meant. He’s such a darling boy. I love him. I want him to do bad things to me. Even if he does it awkwardly, he gets the job done.

🥰🥰🥰 I’m so excited actually, because I have quite a few #policeofficerskz asks and the concepts are so scrumptious. I can barely contain myself.

Anyways… here is what came to mind for your ask. I love you and hope you enjoy 😘🥰

CW: coercion, unprotected p in v sex, cream pie, sex in a semi public place, nudity.

🚨🚨🚨🚨

Since your arrest earlier that day you have been scoping out the police officers at the station. Watching through the bars of the cell, narrowing down which one would be your ticket to freedom.

Really, you shouldn’t have even been arrested. You were set up. Okay, fine. You’re a con artist. But you wouldn’t have been arrested if you hadn’t been snitched on by some undercover officer. Thanks Officer Kim.

As you analyse each of the police officers in the station, the one who seems to catch your eye the most is Officer Han. He appears gentle, quiet, easily persuaded, kind of awkward. You can work with that. Plus, he is kind of cute. Bonus.

And what do you know, Officer Han is on night duty at the station tonight. Alone. You watch him through the bars as he drinks instant coffee and works at his computer.

The lights are low in the station. It’s quiet too, apart from the clacking of his keyboard.

He yawns and leans back in his chair, closing his eyes for a long moment. Poor baby’s tired. When he opens them his eyes land on yours.

He swallows nervously. You know he’s feeling vulnerable having you watch him. This is perfect.

You tilt your head and part your lips seductively, and his eyes blink rapidly before returning his attention to his computer screen.

“Officer?” you say coyly.

His eyes snap up to meet yours again.

"I need your help. You see I'm innocent. This was all a set up. Your officer Kim is corrupt. He stitched me up." Your bottom lip wobbles.

Han sighs loudly, like he wishes you would just stay quiet so he doesn't have to do anything. Maybe he'll just ignore you.

Or maybe not.

Officer Han stands and with his head down, he quietly walks towards the cell. He stops once he's in front of you, but doesn't look up.

"Look, it's not up to me...I'm just babysitting the station. I wasn't the arresting officer. There's nothing I can do." he says and makes to walk away.

Your hand reaches through the bars and grasps his arm. He stills, looking down at where your hand is wrapped around his forearm, and swallows hard.

"Please. Can you at least keep me company. I'm scared. I'm cold." You say in a small voice.

He looks up at you, a bewildered expression on his face.

"Please?" You let your eyes well up as you give him your best "pleading" eyes.

He shakes his head regretfully. "I-I shouldn't. It's against protocol." he whispers. You squeeze his arm a little harder and he whimpers. You've almost got him.

He lets out a shaky breath. "J-just wait here. I'll get you a cup of hot chocolate and a blanket." he concedes.

"I'm not going anywhere, Officer." You purr and release his arm.

You watch him through the bars as he fumbles about making a hot drink and finding another blanket, before returning to the cell and producing a key.

You smirk and go sit on the roll out mat in the far corner of the cell. You must look non-threatening for your plan to work. He enters the cell cautiously and stands in the middle of the area like he doesn't know what to do.

"Come sit." You pat the mat next you. He looks back awkwardly to where his desk is. "I won't bite." you raise and eyebrow.

"O-okay. O-only for a second... " he stutters.

Only for a second? You know how that always ends.

"Here's a blanket, he hands you the tatty fabric. "and your hot chocolate." he gives you the paper cup and sits down next to you and looks at his feet.

"Officer Han. That is your name isn't it?" you place the cup down in the corner, and turn to him. He is very attractive close up.

He nods. "Yes."

"And how long have you been a police officer?" you reach out and draw a circle on his knee with your index finger.

"Um... six months." he says shakily as he watches your finger work its way up his thigh.

"Hmm. Just a baby, huh?" you lick you lips as you watch him tremble.

"M'not a baby." he narrows his eyebrows and glares at you, but quickly looks away.

"No. I was only joking." You bring your hand up to stroke his cheek. "I bet you're very good at doing grown up things."

Officer Han gulps. "I am." he chokes.

"Wanna show me?" You grab his chin, forcing him to look at you. "I need you to show me what grown up things you can do. Can you? Can you do that for me?"

"I-I'm not sure what you mean, Miss?" he says innocently.

"Sure you do. I'm cold." You press yourself up against his side. "I'm thirsty." You ghost your lips over his cheek. "I'm starving." You whisper against his ear. "Need you to warm me up." You nibble his ear lobe. "Need you to fill me up."

"Fuck." he whimpers.

"That's exactly what I need you to show me."

“Huh?” He looks at you wide eyed. His eyes dart around the cell.

You slowly straddle his lap and begin to grind down on him. He's hard in his trousers, and from what you can tell, he's going to fill you just right.

“Miss. We can’t.” He protests in a small voice.

“Don’t you want to touch me, Officer?” You unbutton your blouse, revealing the swell of your breasts and your push up bra. “Go on. Touch them.” You say sternly.

Cautiously, he brings his shaking hands up and rests them on the bulge of your breasts. His mouth hangs open as he squeezes them slightly.

“Mmm, you like them don’t you, Officer?”

He nods.

“Yeah? I bet Officer Han would like to know what my pussy feels like too? Wouldn’t he?” You purr and take him in a ravenous kiss.

He squeaks in response and you smile against his mouth. “I need to you take your clothes off, Officer. I don’t want any part of you hiding from me. I need to see all of you.” You lean in close your his ear “I promise I’ll take all mine off too. You wanna see me naked don’t you?”

Again, Han nods frantically, and undresses so quickly you're not sure if it's pathetic or endearing. Either way, your cunt pulses when you see his bare form. Strong. Toned. Mouthwatering cock.

“I’m naked. Now what? What do you need me to do?” He says desperately, taking in your naked body too.

“Well.” You say laying down on the blanket. “You can start by warming me up.” You part your legs, presenting your pussy to the police officer. "With your mouth."

He’s between your legs, pushing them wide, slurping at your pussy like he hasn’t had a drink in ten hours.

“Oh fuck yes! Officer. Fuck, you do know how to do grown up things!” You cry as he suckles on your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Fingers! Fingers!” You demand, your breath heavy. He pushes two fingers into your cunt while he continues to give your clit attention.

“Yes! Harder!” You thread your fingers through his hair and pull him against your core while you grind your hips against his face.

You’re going to come at any second, but you know that you want to come on his cock.

“Lie on your back, Officer. You deserve to relax after such a hard days work.” You wriggle out from his grasp. The obedient officer does exactly what you ask and he’s on his back, cock heavy and leaking again his stomach. “Time for me to show you what a good girl I am.” You say as you straddle him.

You take your time. Teasing him by sliding along the length of his cock. Getting it soaking wet.

“Please.” He whispers.

“What is it Officer? What do you need?” you coo.

“Don’t tease me.” He sobs.

You lift off of him to line his cock up with your entrance and slowly lower yourself over his length. “Am I being a good girl?” You bite your lip as you encompass him completely.

You continue to ride him slow. He feels so hard inside you and you think if you went any faster he’d blow almost immediately. You want to exhaust the boy.

You build him up, pushing him to the edge, only to ease off. Several times you repeat the process. Officer Han is a wreck underneath you. Sobbing for you to let him come.

“Shh. It’s okay, Officer.” You reassure him as you reach down and play with your clit. You close your eyes and allow an orgasm to wash over you, clenching your walls around his cock.

“Fuck!!!” He cries and you rock your hips to take him over the edge. He comes so hard, and so deep, inside you.

Officer Han pants and trembles underneath you. But you’re not finished with him.

No.

You climb off him and immediately take his cock in your mouth. He protests. He’s so sensitive. Your mouth is too much. But you don’t care. His little cries and pretty moans make you just want to overstimulate even more.

You suck him until he’s hard, then milk him dry. Four more times. All the while he begs you to both “stop, too much”, and “fuck please, let me come!” You ride him two more times too, because he feels too good in your tight little cunt.

Eventually he is so exhausted that he passes out. Mouth agape with a little bit of drool on his chin. Or maybe that was your wetness?

It's almost a shame that you're never going to see him again. He'd probably make a great boyfriend.

🚨🚨🚨🚨

“Officer Han! What happened?”

“Oh dear. This isn’t good.”

“Someone had a rough night?”

“Someone’s going to have a lot of explaining to do.”

Voices wake Officer Han from his sleep. He blinks his eyes open to find its morning. Where the fuck is he? He sits up panicking.

Oh fuck!

He looks around the empty cell, then down at his naked body. Where the fuck are his clothes!? He scrambles around, trying to locate his uniform. But they’re gone.

The other officers laugh and taunt him as he resorts to wrapping the blanket around his waist and tugging at the cell door.

Locked.

“Officer Han.” A stern voice cuts through the jaunts and laughter, and a short, blond man pushes through the throng of officers that have gathered in front of the cell.

Han gulps. “Chief! I can explain.”

Read unrelated fic ot8 frees use jail cell

Read unrelated fic good cop /bad cop Han / Lee know

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @kyunchoni @justforreaders @melochacco

#han jisung smut #Skz smut #Han Jisung x reader #han jisung imagines

[gigglesandfreckles-hp]

OH can you please do "What do you need?" "A hug." for jily <333

from this prompt list

She’s been going for 20 minutes.

“It’s fucking ridiculous!”

James nods dutifully from his place on the couch. “Absolutely.”

“And it’s not as if Slughorn has the bollocks to actually say anything. Not beyond his usual rubbish anyway which is the whole reason Mulciber has the audacity to spout his blood supremacy nonsense at the bloody dinner table.” 

“I hate that guy.”

Lily wheels around from where she’s been pacing by the fireplace. “Right? And I swear, James, he was pissed when he got to the dinner and Sluggy’s mead just made it worse. I was just sitting there, having to listen to him, as he…as he stares at me, over pudding. Because he doesn’t care that everyone knows exactly who he’s talking about. He makes my skin crawl, James.”

James takes a steadying breath and forces himself to continue to track Lily as she paces about the room, his face neutral and attentive. She’s made it clear enough times before that she won’t allow herself to go on these rants around him if she has to worry that he’ll just take them as permission to go hex the Slytherins. It’s a test of his self-control every time.

“I just wish that someone else would say something. For once! That it wouldn’t be me against the entire—”

James scoffs, his practised patience wearing thin. “I’ve told you—”

“You hate the Slug Club, James,” she interrupts with a sigh. “Don’t you remember the last time?”

Does he ever. Things had spiralled out of control at dinner, and the tension had spilled over into the corridors right after the party. Fortunately, Lily had the presence of mind to fetch Slughorn before anyone ended up needing a trip to the hospital wing. The Potions professor had quickly sent James and the Slytherins to their respective dorms, deducting only a few points from each house.

Of course, James and his friends had settled the score later that week, far from Slughorn’s watchful eye—but Lily didn’t need to know everything.

“And besides,” she continues, “I already know how you feel and it…it means everything to me, to have you on my side. But Jesus, James, you’d think at least one of the posh twats Sluggy invites week after week could at least have some sympathy.”

“Speaking on behalf of the posh twats of the world,” James begins, clearing his throat.

Lily cracks a smile, the first real win of the evening for James. “Oh, stop that,” she says, shaking her head. “We’re far too good of friends for you to fool me with that anymore.”

Friends. Good friends. Great friends!

James gives her a practised smile as she settles beside him on the couch, turning sideways to face him, knees drawn up to her chin.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I really did mean for us to study. I—”

He shakes his head. “I’m happy to be a listening ear, Evans.”

She smiles softly, resting her chin on her knees as she watches him. The firelight dances across her face and hair, casting a warm glow that makes her look radiant. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Rot of boredom, probably,” he quips.

“You just…” She purses her lips. “You always know exactly what to do. What to say. It’s like…it’s like you’ve read the Lily Evans Manual.”

James forces himself not to drop his gaze, not to give up and openly confess how he’s studied her so closely for the past six and a half years that he could write a Lily Evans Manual.

“You make me sound way cooler than I am,” he says, leaning on one crooked arm against the back of the couch. “Do go on.”

She laughs, the sound muffled as she buries her face behind her knees, eyes squeezed shut.  James's gaze lingers on her, absorbing every detail, as he commits the sight and sound of her to memory.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with them,” he says quietly, resisting the urge to reach across and lift her chin to meet his eyes. “It’s not fair.”

“No,” she sighs, “it’s not.”

“What do you need?” he asks. “I know hexing Mulciber is regrettably off the table for me,” (she laughs again) “but we could go get some ice cream from the kitchens or if you’d rather go ahead and start studying—”

“A hug,” she interrupts him.

His eyes widen. “From…me?”

“I mean,” she hesitates, her voice softening with uncertainty, “not if…not if it’s an inconvenience. I don’t—”

Before she can finish—before she can change her mind—he swiftly crosses the space between them on the couch and wraps his arms around her. Her knees collapse at once, falling off the couch between them, so she can press herself more fully against the solidness of his chest, her arms threading tight around his shoulders.

And they’re just friends. Good friends. Great friends! But he wouldn’t trade it for the world—not really.

#my fic #this was supposed to be short and sweet but alas #i am who i am #jily

[fiber-optic-alligator]

(Not a request dw) (I had to get this idea out of my head real quick.)

The idea of Drift swallowing his Little One to protect them from another mech trying to take them for themselves. The pair of them had been sitting, and idly chatting (Even if it was mostly a one-sided conversation.) when another mech had come along. Clearly interested in getting their servos on a tasty little human. It'd start with Drift growling lowly as a part of his warning to the potential human-thief that it'd be a bad idea to try his patience. Obviously he'd want to talk things out first, but a small possessive part of Drift loathes the idea of being separated from His Little One. So the "chat" is intermingled with his growling.

The next action Drift would take if the intruding mech persists. Would be to scoop his Little One up to keep them out of reach of the other mech, the growling of his engine growing more intense to dissuade the mech from taking things any further.

But if all else fails, Drift is probably just gonna make a show out of swallowing His Little One. Before growling loudly one last time out of possessive irritability, and walking away from where he'd been seated. He loathes acting like that, as it reminds him of his Deadlock days, but he wasn't about to let his Little One be stolen away by someone who wasn't going to be Nearly as careful with them as he is. It just wasn't going to happen. Speaking of which, he has some apologizing to do to His Little One after he gets back to his Habsuite, and retrieves them from his tanks. Oh dear.

Ok, but, the feeling of being swiftly (But carefully) swallowed by Drift while he's growling up a storm would be Far more jarring than the experience of being swallowed typically would be. The world around you shaking rhythmically, loudly as peristalsis drags you further down into Drift's humid depths. But even when you know Drift would never hurt you, (On purpose) being swallowed, and so thoroughly rattled by his animalistic growls fills you with dread as you sink deeper within him. You land in his stomach as he lets out a more aggressive growl. His tanks clench close around you, just as possessively as your mech is behaving externally. But when you feel him get up, and walk away his tank releases it's hold on you allowing you to breathe again.

It's different when he growls with you in his tank, than when he purrs. The sounds of his gentle purring lulls you to sleep most nights, and results in only a slight shaking sensation. But his growls rattle you to your core, and leave you feeling threatened by the typically placid mech. Drift, who loves you too much to let you leave fall into the servos of someone who can't give you the care you need. Like he can. Like he will.

HRRRRRRRGH THIS IS SO GOOD!!!!

I’m sorry I HAD to write something about this. I know this wasn’t a request but this scenario is honestly so, so good. The way you worded it was beautiful. GOD, what I wrote isn’t half as good as what you sent but I was inspired. What I wrote isn't a carbon copy of your idea, but I still really enjoyed putting this idea into story form. GOD I STILL CAN'T GET OVER IT. Drift certainly does love you too much to let you be taken by someone else. He loves you too much to let you leave. After all, you are is little one. There's no changing that.

PLEASE let me know if you like the little story I wrote. THANK YOU AGAIN FOR THE INCREDIBLE ASK! I'm gonna look back at reread at least twenty times now lmao.

WARNING! WHAT IS WRITTEN BELOW THIS CONTAIN SOFT VORE. If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, please do not read!

.

.

.

“Hey, are you going to have that?”

  Drift looks up. The mech staring back at him is stocky and short. He has some grime splattered across his chassis and arms: oil. An engineer. A name does not stick to the face, and Drift takes a quick moment to try and recall it. Nothing.

  “Excuse me?” is all his confusion will allow him to say.

  “The human.” The stranger gestures to the table. “Are you gonna have it?”

  Drift looks down. On the table is a datapad displaying a sparkling’s story with funny little illustrations. Observing the pictures is you. The library is a quiet place. Drift comes here frequently to either read or simply clear his mind. He enjoys bringing you along as well; ever since you found out there was a library aboard the Lost Light, you have shown a strong fascination with Cybertronian writings. He doesn’t know if you get the gist of what they mean, but you give him such excited, pleading looks when he lets you observe them, that he can’t help but let you indulge. So, he provides you with simple readings. The ones with pictures are what you seem to enjoy best. You’d sit there for hours if you could, looking at the datapad and trying to quietly sound out the Cybertronian words to yourself. It’s not something you do well, but Drift finds it so adorable. You attempting to mimic his language just proves how clever you are.

  He loves to watch you do this, and he frequently jumps in to help you say certain words right. Most of the time the two of you are quietly repeating them to each other in a sort of simple lesson. It’s one of the many things the two of you do as a bonding experience. Primus, Drift loves it.

  So who the hell is this random mech to barge in and interrupt by asking if he can have you?

  “Um.” Drift chuckles in disbelief. “They’re not for sale. Sorry.”

  “Oh, no, nonono.” The mech shakes his head and laughs too. “I don’t want to buy them from you. I want to borrow them. I’ve never had the chance to get my servos on one of these little beauties. It’s rare to find a human that doesn’t already have an owner.” He leers at you, swiping his glossa over his lips. “If you let me have a taste, I’ll pay you. However much you want, name your price.”

  You, who has been silently observing this entire interaction, shrink back nervously. Drift sees the way you look at the other mech in fear, and his mood immediately darkens. Something sour builds in his spark. He slowly reaches forward and curls his digits around you. It’s an obvious display of possessive protection.

  “They’re. Mine,” he growls. The sound is deep and dangerous, continuing on after he spoke his words. Though he doesn’t notice, you are clearly shaken by it. Chirping softly, you press your hand against his palm, trying to get his attention. But he only tightens his hold, never breaking eye contact with the threat before him.

  “Dude, I know they’re yours.” The other mech is clearly unaffected by Drift’s hostility. “You can spare a bit of time with them, can’t you? C’mon, just let me have a taste.”

  He makes a grab for you. Drift’s instincts kick in, and he snatches you away. You yelp when he presses you against his chassis. He makes a mental note to apologize to you later, but right now he needs to play the part of big bad mech. There can be no sign of weakness here. This stranger is clearly bent on stealing you from him. He won’t let that happen. You are his little one. His.

  Drift rises to his pedes, his growls elevating. The other mech doesn’t show any ounce of care and growls back, armor rising to clack. “I’ve waited for so long to try one of these things,” he says. “This might be my only opportunity! Just let me have them!”

  “They aren’t a thing,” Drift hisses. “They are a human. And if you can’t show them the proper respect and care they deserve, then you have no right to own this one, let alone any.”

  “You think just because you're third in command to the captain that you can lecture me on how to treat a human?” The mech gets into Drift’s face and flashes his fangs. “You don’t even know me! I’m not going to hurt it! I just want a taste! Is that so hard for you to allow?”

  “When it comes to a bot like you? Yes. It is.” Drift doesn’t waver. He’s taller than this mech. Stronger, too. Faster, and better at fighting. If it comes down to such actions unfolding, then so be it. He will do anything to protect his little one.

  Speaking of you…you cower in his servos, trying your best to appear invisible. He looks down at you, debating on how to handle this. The other mech obviously doesn’t intend on backing off any time soon, and if things do come down to a fist fight, he obviously can’t defend you like this. His best option for keeping you safe is swallowing you.

  The engineer puffs out his chassis and revs his engine. It’s a challenge.

  Drift accepts it. But not in the way he is thinking.

  He raises you high above his faceplate and lets you drop a little, until he has the back of your shirt pinched between his forefinger and thumb. You kick your legs and squeal, alarmed, and his spark wrenches at the sight. He wants to comfort you. He needs to comfort you. But he can’t, not while he’s making a show of this in order to prove he isn’t someone to be messed with. So despite how disgusted he is with taking advantage of your fear, despite how this makes him feel like a little piece of Deadlock is rising from the grave, he goes through with his decision and decides that if he wants to keep you protected, he needs to scare the other mech off…even if you are scared shitless too.

  He lets you go. Your high-pitched scream is abruptly cut off when you land in his intake and he quickly snaps his jaws shut. Slicking you up with solvent, he tilts his helm back and swallows you, swiftly, but gently. He makes sure the other mech can see you travel down his throat. You are nothing more than a little bulge that disappears into his chassis and is quickly consumed.

  The engineer stares. His mouth is open like he wants to say something, but no words come out.

  Drift licks his lips and continues growling, as loudly as he can. He watches the other mech’s helm lower, optics on the floor. Intimidated. Good.

  “Never come near me or my human again,” he says. “They’re mine. Do you hear me? Mine.”

  The challenger offers no protest. Drift pushes past him and leaves the library, not looking back.

  You have never seen this side of Drift before.

  When he swallows you, he is always careful with you. He takes things slow, allowing you to move along with his pace, giving you every opportunity to tell him no, you don’t want this right now.

  However, this case is entirely different. He didn’t even give you a chance to gather your bearings before he was tossing you into his mouth and gulping you down with a rushed sense of urgency. Oh, he was gentle. Of course he’s always going to be gentle with you. But after watching the way he interacted with that strange mech, who you know wanted to eat you just from the way he had been looking at you like a lion looks at a fresh piece of meat, you can understand why he’s being so quick. This is being done for your preservation.

  But god, that doesn’t mean this isn’t terrifying.

  Everything around you shakes as you are pushed deeper and deeper within him. His esophageal muscles are tight, the rolling sensation of being swallowed not as soothing as it should be. His growls ring in your ears and leave you feeling rattled. He sounds dangerous. He sounds like an animal.

  It scares you.

  When you make it to his stomach, you are practically shoved inside. There is no chance to catch your breath, no opportunity for you to nestle in and get comfortable. The walls move in to give you the tightest squeeze of your life. You are squished uncomfortably between living cables that pulse with the bright, possessive desire to never let you go. Every angle is taken up by him. All you can see is blue biolight. And all you can hear are his throaty rumbles.

  There is no end to it. Even when you feel his stomach gently sway with the rest of his body as he walks away, the organ only holds you closer, gurgling possessively. You feel like you are being told that you are his. Because you are.

  You should be consoled by this fact. But no such feeling comes to compete with the claustrophobic dread that fills you.

  Drift is fuming when he stomps back into his habsuite. He paces back and forth, then drags his chair back and sits in it with a heavy puff of exhaust. Tapping his digits against his desk, he imagines his fist grabbing that engineer by the back of the helm and smashing his faceplate into the nearest wall. How dare he? How dare he just waltz up to him and ask to taste his little one? The nerve of some bots!

  I’ll have to put in a word to Ultra Magnus, he thinks. That engineer should be dismissed. He shouldn’t even be on the Lost Light. Disgusting behavior like that should be punished. It has to-

  He hears a soft whimper. His digits halt their fidgeting. He looks down at his middle and has his internal sensors scan your little form. Your heart rate is through the roof. Your breathing is erratic and unsteady. And…oh no. Oh, no, no, no. You're trembling.

  He loosens his grip on you and gives you room to move. But when that doesn’t do the trick, he decides that keeping you in there while you are in this state will only distress you further. So he clenches his tank muscles again, and pushes you upward, back through his esophagus and into his mouth. He slips you into his servos with practiced ease, turning you gently so you are on your back. You are covered in his solvent, chest heaving as you look up at him. Then, to his horror, you turn away from him and curl up into a little ball. You are still shaking. His spark sinks.

  He gently deposits you onto his desk and fetches one of his fluffiest blankets to wrap you in. You don’t resist him. You just sit there, giving him those big sad eyes you have whenever you are scared.

  “Little one?” Drift whispers.

  You chirp softly and hide your face. He whines. “No, no, don’t do that.” He hooks his index digit under your chin and tilts your head up. “Look at me, little one. Please.”

  You're still so afraid. He realizes that his big act in front of the engineer really affected you. Guilt rises. There has to be a way to get through to you and show you that he’s still the gentle Drift you know.

  He leans forward, cupping you close. Lowering his helm to be at your level, Drift coos out the call you always make when you want his attention. “Hello,” he murmurs in the foreign tongue. “Hello. Hello, hello.”

  You perk up a little when he mimics your calls. Tentatively, you say it back. “…Hello.”

  Drift beams. “Hello, little one.” He ruffles your hair, chuckling when you lean into his touch. “I’m so sorry I scared you. I…I had to show him that you are mine. I don’t want anyone trying to take you from me. They could hurt you. And if that happens…I’ll never be able to live with myself.”

  You seem to understand that he’s asking for your forgiveness. Sighing, you shuffle forward and reach out, pressing your hands against his nose. You chirp; much of it is indecipherable. But then…you begin to speak. Not in your language. In Cybertronain.

  “Love you,” you say to him. “Love you…love you, Drift.”

  He doesn’t know when you learned it. But he knows it’s the first time you’ve said it. He is your first I love you.

  He can’t contain himself. Drift purrs louder, cuddling you. “I love you too, little one. I love you so, so much.”

  You like cuddles. You deserve them. Today was a rough day for both of you. But knowing you still trust him is relieving.  And he promises you…he swears to you, he will never allow anyone to try and threaten you again.

#gator answers #gator writes #desperation vs domestication #drift x reader #tasty au #first contact au #transformers first contact #transformers first contact au #soft vore #safe vore #sfw vore

[madlori]

Current Bucktommy WIP

Buck put the bowls of kedgeree on the table with the salad and the bread Bobby had made, glancing at the clock again as he sat down. “You’ve been watching the clock all shift, Buck,” Hen said. “Anxious to be off?”

“Oh yeah, he’s got plans. Big plans,” Eddie said, smirking.

“If those plans involve Tommy Kinard’s pants I don’t need to hear about them,” Chim said.

“We’re, uh…going away together on my four-off,” Buck said, fidgeting a little.

“Oh ho!” Hen crowed. “First trip together?”

“Yeah, first overnight trip. We’ve like, gone down to San Diego for the day and stuff like that.”

“Where are you going?”

“Moab. He’s flying us there.”

“Moab’s too far for a helicopter, isn’t it?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah, it’s like 800 miles, but we’re actually taking a plane.”

“I didn’t know Tommy flew planes.”

“He’s only licensed for helicopters for the LAFD, but he has a fixed-wing pilot’s license. He and some of his pilot friends do this timeshare thing? They each pay some amount per month and then get to share airtime in a Piper M500. He saved up his time for a few months so we could have it for three days. We can fly there in a couple of hours.”

“Must be nice,” Eddie said, winking at him.

“Oh, like he didn’t fly you two to Palm Springs to play golf last weekend,” Buck teased back.

“You could have come.”

“I hate golf.”

“Okay, are we gonna need family court to figure out the Tommy custody arrangement with you two?” Chim said.

“No,” Buck said, flatly. “I get right of first refusal. I’m the boyfriend, deal with it,” he said, grinning at Eddie.

“So are you nervous about this trip? You seem kind of nervous,” Hen said.

“No, I’m excited, I just…” He sighed. “They say the first test of a relationship is to travel together.”

“Oh, that’s what they say, is it?”

“You know what I mean! Like…are you compatible? Do you drive each other nuts? Can you agree on where to eat and what time to get up or whatever?”

“And you’re afraid you won’t be compatible?” Bobby said.

“Not really? We’re compatible at home, like we’re the same level of neat, we both like to plan things but not too much, we like to get up and go to sleep at about the same time.” He shrugged. “I guess I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

#madlori's fic #9-1-1 fanfiction #bucktommy #tevan #kinley #evan buckley #tommy kinard #wip

[reidrum]

carry the weight of you | s.r

A/N: i had this posted on an old blog but here's this, idk if i like it but it's also one of my first fics so if lemme know if you have thoughts <3

cw: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, reader is sad, depression ?, spencer is a cutie who just wants to love, can be read as gn!reader

wc: 1.8k

_______________________________________________

it was supposed to be a routine case. well, not a routine case. those don’t really exist in the bau, but one that had a clear MO and decent enough leads that garcia could easily use to find the unsub. it wasn’t even a case that was especially creepy in nature, lord knows those give the whole bureau nightmares for days.

so why did you feel this way?

you were relatively new to the team—having one year under your belt to your near decades experienced colleagues. but you had rightfully earned your spot in the bau, and you deserved to be there.

but right now you had no energy to believe that. the ache in your chest was ever present from your younger days, courtesy of the circumstances from your upbringing, and you should’ve expected that joining the fbi would’ve only made it heavier. you bared it nonetheless because that’s what you were taught to do. you felt beaten down by the last few days, and just couldn’t wait to get back home and crawl into your bed.

the team had wrapped up the case, and you all were on the jet flying back home to the district. sat next to the ever observant dr. reid, he noticed your glazed eyes and distant aura exuding from you.

“you okay?” he bumps your shoulder bringing you out of your trance.

“i’m fine, don’t worry about me.” you replied curtly and tried to fold into the crevice between the seat and the walls of the plane.

“bold of you to lie to a profiler while on a plane full of profiles,” he chuckled lightly, “seriously, you look troubled. are you sure you don’t wanna play honesty hour right now?”

“spence, i’m okay, I promise.” you tried your best at a genuine smile that was as see through as a windexed window. he returned it with his own thin lipped smile and left you be. 

were you okay? you don’t even know how long you’ve felt like this. small, insignificant, nothing. you do great work at your job, tarnishing evil and saving lives. but you can’t help but find it ironic that it’s your own mind working against you that seems to be your demise. 

the jet landed around midnight and the team shuffled through the bullpen to gather their belongings before going home. everyone offered their goodbyes and goodnights and spencer was waiting for you by the door. you both lived in the same apartment building, only because when you first moved to quantico you had no one and knew no one. spencer took it upon himself to help you out, being the newest young rookie on the team, a position he was all too familiar with. his next door neighbor had moved out for an immediate job offer and was looking for a subletter and lo and behold, spencer had become your best friend.

in the few months that you were getting accustomed to the area spencer invited you over for nightly chess games and doctor who marathons. morgan always teased the two of you saying you should be going out on the town having fun only young people can have, and spencer would blush and stammer something out but you would have the brightest smile and look at him saying they were the most fun you’ve had.

so he was surprised to say the least when those nights started to become far and few. you would politely decline and spencer would assume you’d finally listened to morgan and got better plans. but he could hear the patter of your footsteps and the occasional expletive from when you’d hit a table corner and wondered what he did to make you recluse yourself again.

spencer was a profiler after all, mix that with being your closest friend and he could pinpoint the moments you started to change. you’d started making less jokes, even during moments where the team would pause and wait for a little quip from you but hear nothing. you were harder to gain attention from, usually needing three or four calls to get you to even look up. and he just saw you distancing yourself, almost like you didn’t want anyone to perceive you.

spencer loved you. he wouldn’t say it out loud or admit to anyone but point blank he loved you. he felt understood in a way that no one else made him feel. you were kind, smart, funny, and the empathy you held for others was enough to make him tear up. you were there for him when maeve died, letting him cry on your shoulder, and as fucked up as it sounds he realized he loved you in those moments leaking tears onto the stomach of your sweater.

so here stood spencer in front of your desk, “you heading home?” you nodded, “mind if i ride with you? i don’t feel like taking the metro this late.”

“okay, let’s go.”

the walk to your car was silent, and somehow the ride back to your apartment complex was even more silent. walking up the stairs to your apartment doors, you turn the key and step in when spencer goes, “hey actually i think i left my book at your place do you mind if i just look for it really quick?”

you stared at him blankly. you just wanted to be alone and he wants to get his book now? unbeknownst to you spencer was desperate to get to the bottom of your melancholia, and needed any in he could find right now to get there.

nonetheless you nodded your head and left the door open behind you so he could walk in. you dropped your bags and shoes at the front door and trudged through your apartment to your kitchen to put tea on the kettle. you softly called out to him, “do you want a cup of tea?”

“i’d love a cup.” he says sitting on your couch.

you’re fussing around the kitchen getting two mugs out— one doctor who and one snoopy mug. you fill the doctor who one up and add a lemon slice and turn around grabbing your snoopy mug. when you turn back towards the kettle you hit the corner of the island table and watch as your favorite mug drops and shatters into millions of pieces.

when they say a straw is what breaks the camel’s back you fully understand what they mean now because how are you about to lose all your shit over a snoopy mug. you don’t even make an effort to move, just staring at the broken pieces on the floor, trying to make sense of them like a kid pointing out cloud shapes. it’s like you can see the pieces molding into the demons that keep you up at night, the thoughts of uselessness and lethargy personifying in front of you.

spencer has to call your name three times before you finally move your eyes to meet his. you can see his lips moving but you can’t hear him, his hands are out as if he’s telling you to stay put oh wait he is. you wait as he finds your dustpan and broom and brushes up the remains into the trashcan. he slowly approaches you and maneuvers you towards the living room where you sit still glossy eyed and trembling.

he sits down next to you and places a hand on your bouncing knee to soothe it, “why won’t you talk to me?”

you shake your head, “it’s nothing spence, it’s not a big deal i can buy a new mug.” push it down.

“not that, something’s not right. and i want to help. will you let me help you?”

you feel the tears making their way up your face to make their grand exit, and you hold on to last bit of resolve you can as you shakily breathe, “i-, i can’t, it’s stupid and we see so much worse stuff so i have to keep it together and i am but today was just-“ you abruptly got up to get water from the kitchen before finishing your sentence. grabbing a glass from the cupboard, filling it up at the sink, and gulping it down with shaky hands. you set the glass down and placed your hands on the cool counter in an attempt to tether yourself to some string of reality that was left. you couldn’t burden him. you wouldn’t.

spencer gives you a minute alone before rising from the couch and walking into the kitchen. he approaches you slowly from behind, mirroring his hands on top of yours, entrapping you in his warm embrace. “i think you’re carrying so much,” he whispers gently in your ear, “you don’t have to do it by yourself. it’s okay to not be okay.”

the tears win and start streaming down your face silently. spencer continues, “what we do, it’s hard. we all have ways of not letting it get to us. rossi and his cigars, hotch and jack, garcia and her tchotchkes, i mean even emily with her sin city weekends.” you let out a wet laugh in response.

spencer doubles down and intertwines his fingers with yours, “my point is, you are not alone. i am here. let me carry some of it for you, please.”

letting out a soft sob you twist in his arms and burrow yourself into his sweatered chest. this was a new feeling for you, letting someone in to see the horrors that you worked so hard to suppress. why would anyone want to brave that journey? surely you weren’t worth the effort.

but as spencer tightened his arms around you, rubbing his hands soothingly down your back and placing a kiss at the crown of your head, you felt that even if the walls of your resolve came crumbling down that spencer would be there to catch as much as he could. and that was enough.

“thank you,” you mumbled tearily incoherent.

“i will always be here for you, no need to thank me sweetheart.”

his kindness overwhelmed you. how could someone who sees so much darkness and been through so much still hold the level of kindness he does?

you lifted your head slightly as his hand came up to cradle the back of your head, “so, what do you have?”

he hummed quizzically in response. you continued, “you said everyone has ways of getting through it, what’s yours?”

“it’s you,” spencer softly says with the most tender loving look in his eyes, smoothing your hair back as he looks down at you in his arms, “it’s always been you.”

your eyes welled up even more and squeezed him tighter if it were even possible. spencer had you. and now you had spencer.

the next day you show up to work, a snoopy mug with a gift bow sits on your desk. 

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert

[hellfire-state-of-mind]

i'll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands)

pairing: Pero Tovar x fem!reader

rating: E for Explicit

word count: 2.2k

warnings: 18+ content, fingering/hand job, unprotected piv, creampie, praise kink, brief talk of injury/treatment (reader gives him stitches), reader has no physical description besides breasts and feminine clothing, Tovar is able to lift reader

a/n: my submission for @iamasaddie's kinky may challenge! i was given the honor of writing Tovar with a praise kink 😤 i haven't written smut in a long time so please be gentle 🥲 extra special shoutouts to @frannyzooey and @joelscruff for hyping me up with the snippets i shared with them. feedback is always welcome, i was equal parts excited and scared to write this so i'd love to hear what y'all think 🙂

Tovar squirms again, making your hand slip and press harder on the wet rag you’re using to clean the sizeable gash along his right collarbone. He hisses slightly through his teeth before glancing down at you. You glare at him and huff once more.

“I told you to stop moving.”

Before he can respond, you hike up your skirt with your free hand and straddle his thighs. Tovar freezes completely upon your sudden movement, gripping the bench now supporting the both of you, his brows raised as you lock eyes.

“Now, hold still.”

You twist to the table next to you and pick up a sewing needle and thread, taking a moment to hold the needle in the flame of a lit candle to sterilize it before threading the eye. You don’t ask if he’s ready before beginning to stitch the wound.

Your stitches are slow but precise in the low candlelight. When you finish, you lean forward slightly to cut the thread with your teeth and secure the ends. It’s only when you pull away to set aside your tools that you notice Tovar’s breathing, or rather the lack of. He’s completely still as a statue, focused on a vague point off in the distance behind you.

“Did it really hurt that much?” You maneuver to try and catch his eyes but he veers away. You teasingly brush your fingertips down his muscular bicep. “I thought a big, tough mercenary like you could handle more than a few stitches without a fuss.”

Tovar clears his throat and his voice comes out lightly strained and breathy. “It is…not my wound that is the trouble.”

He shifts uncomfortably beneath you and you feel it. His full erection is pressed against your bare inner thigh. You can feel his weight and warmth just as he can feel yours. You bite back a smirk when he passes you a guilty glance.

“Forgive me, my dear. It has been a long time since I’ve felt a woman’s touch.”

You pause to consider your next move. You can’t deny your own attraction to the man, and you’ve been experiencing an extended dry spell of your own. It’s a miracle your own arousal hasn’t found its way to the front of his trousers where you’re still perched. Who knows how long he’ll stay here at the Wall? Who knows if he’ll even live to see another moonrise? What’s the harm in a little release?

You smirk and look up at him through your eyelashes. “Allow me to relieve your pain, then.”

You slide back on his thighs far enough to reach between the two of you and unfasten his pants. He grips your wrists with one thick, massive hand to stop you from going further.

“I cannot ask you to do that.” His voice and eyes are stern, intent on not crossing any unwanted boundaries.

You look back at him with sincerity. “You’re not asking me. I want to.”

“Querida-”

“No one ordered me to tend to your wound. I came because I wanted to. I wanted to help you,” you gently pry your hands from his grasp, “and I’m not leaving until I’ve finished helping you.”

Tovar’s expression is difficult to read. You can see the turmoil behind his eyes, so you try to make the decision easier for him. Shifting closer once more, you take his hand and guide it between your own legs. The corner of your mouth twitches up as his pupils dilate upon coming in contact with your soft, damp hairs. You press him further into your wetness, cupped fully in the palm of his hand now, and he breathes in sharply.

“If you truly want me to go-”

“No.” Tovar cuts you off quietly. You smile in satisfaction when you remove your hand but his does not budge. “But I will not indulge in what is not offered.”

Striking your final blow, you undo the strings closing the top of your tunic, shrugging the shoulders off and letting it fall around your waist. Your breasts are exposed, nipples peaking in the cool night air from the window beside you. Tovar’s eyes are ablaze now as he takes you in, using every last bit of his willpower to resist until you give the word.

“Is this offering enough?”

The breath is stolen straight from your lungs as Tovar plunges one thick finger inside you up to the knuckle, his other hand smoothing up your bare thigh to your ass cheek and grasping it. He tugs you close so your tits are pressed to his solid chest as he slowly pumps in and out of you.

Your hands fly to his shoulders to steady yourself, but you move them away just as quickly when you put pressure on his fresh stitches. Tovar only grunts softly, otherwise not acknowledging the slip. You instead find a handhold along his ribs, gripping him tightly as warmth begins to spread up into your belly. He nuzzles his nose into your cheek, breathing deep and focused as he eases a second finger inside and increases his speed. You gasp at the foreign stretch and claw at his sides.

Tovar’s hips buck into you at the pinch, and you’re reminded of your initial mission. One hand slips past his waistband and settles on his hip. You bow your head and spit into the other before reaching down his front to grasp his length. The two of you groan simultaneously at the new sensation. You start pumping him, matching the pace of his fingers.

Your motions soon falter, though, as Tovar curls his fingers to press into your sweet spot. Your head falls to the side and rests on his, unable to stay up on its own as the wave of euphoria builds and threatens to crest. You fight to maintain your own strokes as Tovar chuckles from deep in his chest into your ear.

“You’re doing so good for me, querida. So soft and warm, so tight.” He cuts himself off with a stronger groan as your hand on his hip circles back to the top of his ass, while the one wrapped around his cock slides down to cup his balls as well. “I know you’re close. Don’t fight it, bonita. Give it to me.”

 The wave comes crashing over you with his encouragement. You mouth drops open as you make no attempt to smother your cries. Tovar flexes as your hips rut against him.

“Very good. Let it out, let me hear you.”

Tovar continues his movements until you’ve completely come down from your high, though it begins to build again almost as soon as it dissipates. Finally, he removes his fingers, making a soft pop as your walls try to suck him back inside. He raises them to his lips and generously sucks off all your release from them, never once breaking eye contact. You feel a fresh gush of arousal drip down your thigh at the sight. You quickly fumble to pull down his trousers and free his raging cock. Tovar tilts his hips, tugging them down to his mid-thighs, but grasps you by the waist before you can impale yourself on him.

“I need you to say it first, mi amor. I simply cannot take what is not freely given.”

“Then take me,” you huff impatiently.

Tovar loosens his grip enough for you to rise onto your knees, notching the weeping head of his cock at your entrance. You lock eyes with him and take a deep, steadying breath before sinking down. You cry out in both pain and pleasure, the stretch more intense than his fingers especially after so long without. Tovar moans along with you, letting out a pained shout of his own as you take him all the way inside, settling onto his lap once more.

You nuzzle into his neck, inhaling his scent of sweat and a hint of gunpowder, your breath hot against his skin. You try rocking your hips to relieve some of the tension, but Tovar abruptly stands, slipping out but clutching you to him tightly. You whine at the loss, then gasp when you feel the coolness of the thin sheets adorning the simple bed in the opposite corner of the room.

Tovar settles above you, supporting most of his weight on his knees and forearms. His pelvis rests lightly between your spread legs, his hardness bobbing against your mound with every breath. The dark trail of hair leading up his abdomen tickles your stomach, and you take the opportunity to truly admire the specimen hovering above you. The rippling muscles in his back, littered with long-healed battle scars breaking up the smooth skin. His dark hair, cut short but curling slightly at the nape of his neck. You rake your fingers through it, pulling him close. Tovar rests his forehead against yours, lips parted, exchanging breath. His gaze is piercing but you feel yourself being pulled in rather than pushed away.

Tovar must feel the same as he leans down just enough that your lips brush, but not seal together. You whimper his name on the verge of desperation and he closes the gap. He immediately takes charge, his tongue invading your mouth, feeling and tasting every crevice. You buck into him once again and he rips away from you, pinning your hips to the bed with one hand splayed across your lower belly.

You want to scream in frustration. “Tovar, please!”

“Shh, I know, mi amor. I know what you need. And you’ve been so good for me, I promise I will give it to you.” He moves his hand away and guides his tip back inside, pressing in slowly until his hips are flush with yours. The two of you groan in sync again and you wrap your legs around him, locking him in. “But we must go slow. I would hate to finish too quickly and bring an end to such pleasure that has only just begun.”

With this, he captures your lips with his own once more. You two stay locked like this for a while, savoring each other’s taste and touch. Tovar’s hands explore your body as you did his, tracing bones and squeezing flesh. Only when you feel totally consumed by him does he retreat from you, leaving only his tip inside. Tilting your chin up to look at him, he sinks back in to the root. And again. And again. Your second high hits you without warning as he sets the perfect rhythm.

Tovar bites back a guttural moan as he feels you tighten around him. “Dios mio, mi amor. You’re taking me so well. I would stay just like this forever if I could, buried in this cunt.”

You feel as if you’re floating, evaporating into the air from his heat and force of his thrusts. Your pleasure reaches new heights as he cups the back of your knee and pushes it up to your chest, welcoming him impossibly deeper. Tovar’s intense gaze remains on your face as he fucks you, committing every sound and expression of bliss to his memory.

You feel the wave cresting again just as his hips begin to stutter but never lose their force. You try to call out his name, a warning of your impending release, but you only manage pleading cries of “please.”

He understands immediately, snaking his other arm underneath you and up to your shoulder, pulling you against him as he slams into you. His voice is just as desperate, strained from holding off his own release to wait for yours.

“That’s it, mi amor. Cum for me. Cum on my cock. I want it. I need it. I crave it.” His snarling in your ear tips the scales in your favors, sending you over the edge. Your legs tighten around him as your back arches off the mattress. Tovar takes one breast into his mouth, biting and sucking his mark onto you. He unlatches in time to smack his hips to yours once, twice, three more times. A roar erupts from him as his cock pulses, forcing out rope after rope of his cum to coat your walls, content to plant there and never escape.

He fills you to the brim, milky white droplets beginning to seep out from where your hole has sealed around him. When he’s finally spent, he lowers himself flush to you, arms curling around your back. The salty, heady scent of your activity surrounds the two of you as you each fight to regain your senses.

You card your fingers through his hair once more as Tovar turns his head to press his lips to your neck. Soft at first, then open and hungry, nipping at the skin to coax out another mark matching the one on your breast, tongue soothing the spot after each bite.

You hear his breath begin to deepen and slow, feel his heartbeat matching it. You know you shouldn’t allow yourself to fall asleep beneath him. But how could you rip yourself from his arms now?

As if sensing your thoughts, Tovar rests his head atop yours, gazing into your eyes once more, lids half-closed.

“Ay, mi amor. I have half a mind to steal you away with us. What kind of man would I be to leave behind such perfection?” He seals your lips together and, at the same time, your mind.

What’s the harm in being his forever?

#pero tovar #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #the hellfire texts

[swissboyhisch]

You Can't Be Serious

Pairing: Matthew Tkachuk x OC

Summary: A night out celebrating brings co-workers closer than what they thought possible. With the help of a little alcohol.

Word Count: 1346

Warnings: Probably crossing work boundaries. Alcohol. Kissing. Blurry consent.

A/N: This is for @offside-the-lines Birthday Bingo!! Happy birthday to one of my favourite Aussie girlies. I know it was a couple weeks ago but Birthday month is the best thing to celebrate!

My choice of four bingo boxes were:

Drunken Confessions

Dancing

Rivals (enemies) to Lovers

Mistaken Identity

Sorry it's so late but work became a little stressful and unpredictable. But I got it in just in time! I really hope you enjoy this as it definitely had me writing tropes I haven't before. Happy birthday Rox <3

Also shoutout to @mp0625 for being my beta. Always can count on you!

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

Cora sighed happily as she finally stepped foot into her apartment, taking off her shoes and collapsing onto the couch. Even though it was a lost cause as she’d be leaving again to meet the boys at the bar, they had organized to celebrate the team clinching a playoff spot. Some country bar that the boys liked to go have a good time at when celebrating a win.

As one of the off-ice fitness trainers, she spent a lot of time with the players, creating great friendships. Cora was the only woman in the facility's fitness physio and trainers team and the youngest by far. She had done a traineeship last season, and when the head physio left, he suggested that she come onto the team as one of the other men would be taking his position. As the only woman, the boys had taken to her like family, and suddenly, she had 22 brothers. 

Notice the 22 and not 23? Well one of the team decided she was annoying and just looking for attention. Even when she was just doing her job. Matthew Tkachuk, ever since she started her traineeship, had taken a liking to pissing Cora off whenever he could. If she had to spot him while he did weights, he would do the opposite. She was younger than him and telling him what to do? Yeah right. 

But he had been injured for the last 4 weeks so the two had been spending more time than usual working together making the tension peak. Hopefully, with Matthew being back on the ice tonight, he will have simmered back down before he said something to make Cora strangle him. He was holding it against her that he wasn’t allowed to play yet. Like it was solely her fault for not clearing him to play.

Instead of wallowing and thinking about the dumbass that was Ratthew, Cora pulled herself off the couch and into her bathroom where she could shower and get ready. She was thankful that quite a few of the girlfriends, wives and family members were also coming so she wouldn’t be the only woman within the group.

Cora chose to wear a red lacy bodysuit and a black denim skirt with a leather jacket to finish off the look. A bold red lip and simple smokey look with curled hair made her look out of this world. Something the boys weren’t used to as they only ever saw the woman in athletic clothes and team gear. She traded in her worn pair of Nikes for a pair of trusty black heeled boots. She knew by the time she ordered her uber and got to the bar, some of the players and family would already be there so she grabbed her clutch that had her phone, portable charger and ID in it. The uber luckily wasn’t that long for a Friday night. 

“Cora!” Yana Tarasenko yelled as the young woman climbed out of the SUV.

“Yana,” She laughs, being brought into a hug. 

The pair intertwined their arms and made their way through the security with Vlad to where there was already a group gathering in the back corner around multiple booths and tables. Players, partners and family alike were all chatting away happily, nearly all with some kind of drink in their hand. Whether it be alcoholic or not. 

“I’m going to get a drink,” Cora yells over the music to Yana who nodded and waved her off. 

Yana found a seat with some of the other girls in a corner booth tucked behind the boys. Cora found herself at the bar, ordering her usual vodka cranberry along with two tequila shots. If she was to get through this social gathering, to be what she deemed as a normal, she needed a few drinks. Hence the shots. When she wasn’t paying attention, a body slid into the bar right beside her. 

“Your lips look lonely. Would they like to meet mine?” A familiar voice spoke up over the Carrie Underwood song that was blaring. 

Cora turned slowly, not wanting to believe what she had heard. There beside her, and apparently hitting on her, was an already tipsy Matthew Tkachuk. What the actual fuck? Those words did not just come out of his mouth.

“Tkachuk,” Cora muttered uninterested.

“So you’re a fan?”

Cora laughed, “You can’t be serious…” The curly-haired boy looked confused for a moment. Which to Cora was comical. “Matthew, we literally–” 

“Cora!” Barkov shouted when he saw her at the bar. He brought her into a hug, but she didn’t miss the shocked look that crossed Matthew’s face.

“Cora?” He gasped.

Instead of wasting time, she disappeared onto the dance floor with some of her friends dancing and sipping her cocktail. A few of the girls were cheering her on when she shook out her hair that she had put into a clip for the trip to the bar. They were all having fun, enjoying themselves. When the first few notes of Kesha’s song Take It Off played, Cora let out an excited squeal. She had practiced the line dance a heap after seeing it on TikTok. 

“Go Cora!” The girls yell as she races to the middle of the circle with quite a few other bar patrons. 

As the chorus came up, Cora stripped off the jacket she was wearing and waved it around in the air above her head. She thrived on the attention of all the girls and their partners cheering her on. Matthew had stepped up beside them and watched the girl he had come to be so frustrated with. After the song came to an end the group pulled her into the circle, showering her with compliments on the side of her she’s never shown to the team.

“You make not liking you hard when you move your hips like that,” Matthew whispers, coming up behind the dancing girl as the attention turns elsewhere. 

She could faintly smell the beer on his breath but she was probably just as drunk. “Matt…”

Cora leant back against Matthew’s body as his arms came to wrap around her waist. His fingers tickled her skin through the lace bodysuit. Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy started to play as the two swayed together in time with the beat. 

“Wanna get out of here?” Matthew yelled over the music after another hour of drinking and dancing. 

Cora giggled, “Let’s go.”

Without saying goodbye to any of the team or partners, the two slipped out of the bar and into the back of an Uber that Matthew had ordered. The two laughed and whispered on the journey back to his apartment. Cora was helped out of the car by Matthew and led up to the 11th floor of the apartment complex. 

“You frustrate me to no end,” Matthew mumbles against Cora’s lips as he pushes her to the now-closed door. 

Cora frowns at the words, “What? Why?”

“You held me off the ice even when I was all good to play.”

That made Cora step away. Even though the two were definitely tipsy, probably drunk if you look at the true definition, it hurt to hear that. “I can promise you it was for the best.”

“But I was good to play…”

“We knew we’d make the playoffs, why risk you getting injured and missing the playoffs? Why risk our best player?” 

Those words coming out of Cora’s mouth made Matthew’s thoughts flip. He had only thought of himself that Matthew hadn’t considered the team and the future of the season of he had made his injury worse. 

The silence was worrying to Cora. What was running through his head? “Matthew?”

The curly-haired boy pulled her close again and pressed his lips to hers. It was addicting… For both parties. The two stripped off clothes, leaving a trail to his bedroom.

“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you,” Cora slurs as they fall onto the bed together. 

Matt grins, “I know I’m in love with you.”

TAG LIST:

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras

@francesfarhadi @cixrosie @dasiysthings @dancerbailey3 @puckmaidens

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