#and they just gutted it from start to finish. sigh.

[mymindcreatedthis]

Stuck in an Elevator (18+)

Word count: 5,979

Warning: Smut, Panic attacks, Make up sex, unprotected sex, cumshots, Anal stuff, creampies, Fingering, Teasing, positions: Standing up, against the wall

Plot: Reader, Caitlin Foord and Katie McCabe have had a rough past. Katie and Reader used to be best friends, but had a major falling out and it was extremely bad the way things ended between them. Katie has turned into a bitch and has been a major asshole to Reader. After a long game against Ireland of Katie shit talking to the reader and Katie getting physical with the reader the game ends. Reader takes the elevator to the lobby for dinner, suddenly the elevator stops, the doors ping and open. Reader sighs as she she sees Katie McCabe. Katie joins reader in the elevator. But what happens when the elevator goes down 4 floors and gets stuck? Now reader is trapped with her enemy and it’ll take hours before they are rescued.

*Y/n's pov*

It was game day, I was a rookie and just started playing for England. We were playing against Ireland today, I had my AirPods in and was listening to music. My leg was bouncing like crazy, Leah was sitting next to me. Leah places her hand on my leg and helps me relax.

"Deep breaths love." Leah says.

I nod and take a couple deep breaths. "You okay love?" Leah asks me.

I nod and close my eyes. "S-Sorry really nervous. First time playing/ representing my country." I say. My hand were shaking really bad.

"Here drink some water love." Leah says and hands me an extra water bottle that she had.

"T-Thanks." I say. I take the water from her and take a drink, the water helps me relax a bit.

"You are an amazing player Y/n. You have nothing to worry about." Leah says.

I smile. "Thanks Le, none of this would've been possible without you."

"Hey you are my best friend. Of course I'm gonna help you out and be by your side." Leah says.

We get to the stadium, we get off the bus and head towards the locker room. As we are walking to the locker room we run into Ireland as they are also heading to their locker room.

Me and Leah spot Katie. Katie glares at me, geez if looks could kill I'd definitely be dead by now. She walks past us.

She shoulder checks me as she walks past which makes me stop walking and pause. "You're Dead Y/n. Your ass is mine." She spits out venom laced in her voice.

"Fuck off McCabe. Go to your locker room." Leah says.

Katie smirks and looks at me. "Go! Now." Leah shouts.

Katie walks away and heads to their locker room. Leah wraps her arm around my shoulder and we walk towards the locker room.

"Come on bud. We got a game to play, save it for the pitch." Leah says.

I smile and peck her cheek. "Let's go bud." I say.

Me and Katie have some really bad history. Katie and I both dated Caitlin Foord, Katie was a piece of shit and cheated on Caitlin with Ruesha. Katie and Caitlin broke up, Katie blamed me for their break up and accused me of stealing her girl.

Caitlin and I started dating after we hooked up a few times after her and Katie broke up. Issues got worse between Katie, Caitlin and I. One day me and Katie actually got into a fist fight.

Leah and some of the girls had to jump in and break it up and separate us. Caitlin was sick and tired of the drama. Me and Caitlin went on break for a month.

One night Caitlin got really drunk and came back home with another girl while I was asleep in our bedroom. I woke up when I hear noises coming from downstairs.

I came downstairs and saw Caitlin and another girl naked, and caught them having sex. I packed my bags that night and left her. I haven't talked to Caitlin in 3 years.

Leah was there for me when I was at that low point in my life. Katie McCabe has hated my guts ever since. Me and Leah get to the locker room, we get changed and join the girls and warm up.

Truth is I actually had a crush on Katie, I was actually in love with her. We finish warming up and start the game. I steal the ball from Katie, I dribble the ball up field. I'm about to kick the ball when I get side tackled and take a nasty fall.

I look over and see Katie getting back up. Of course it was fucking her, I try to get up but Katie shoves me back down.

"Fucking bitch." Katie mutters so I was the only one who heard it.

I feel a sudden rage rise in me, I shoot up to my feet and shove Katie. "Fuck you McCabe!! What is your problem?!"

Katie is shocked but shoves me back. Leah, Lucy and Millie jump in and pull me back. Ruesha and a couple Ireland players jump in and hold Katie back breaking up the altercation.

The ref blows the whistle and gives Katie a yellow card. Katie holds her hands up and laughs, she shakes her head and walks away. The ref looks at me and gives me a warning.

We go back to our spots and continue playing the game. I get the ball again, Katie was in front of me. She tried to steal the ball from me but I nut meg her. I smash my foot into the ball.

The ball flies past the goal keeper and sails into the back of the net. 1-0, Katie glares at me. I smile at her and Do a little bow.

We continue panting the game, Katie gets the ball she runs past me. I try to take the ball but Katie trips me, she rams her body into mine and we both fall to the ground.

I groan, I banged up my knee a bit. I get up, Katie was still on the ground. I hold my hand out for her to help her up. Katie tosses the ball to me, I catch it with one hand. Katie swats my hand away.

"Fuck off." Katie mutters and walks away. I sigh and head back to my position. I give the ball to the ref, Leah pats my back.

"Fuck her, you are playing really well Y/n. You already scored for us." Leah says.

I smile and nod, Leah smiles and taps my butt. Leah and I have hooked up a few times. We are best friends but we are also kinda of friends with benefits.

We continue to play the game. Katie scores, the score was tied 1-1. The game ends and we win 5-4, I scored 4 goals and Leah helped me score the 5th one. Katie scored 3 goals and Rushea helped her score the 4th one we line up and shake hands, Katie walks past me and doesn't shake my hand.

We shake hands with the other girls. We grab our things and head back to the locker room. The team showers and gets dressed, I shower and get dried off and change into new clothes.

I sit on the bench in front of my locker and fiddle with my fingers lost in thought.

*3 Years Ago*

"Fuck you Y/n! I'm gonna beat your ass." Katie says. I turn around and pop her in the face, Katie tells in pain and holds her face.

"You bitch!" Katie shouts. She goes to swing at me but the rest of the team quickly jumps in and holds us back separating us.

"What the fuck is going on here?!" Leah shouts.

"She's trying to steal my girl from me!" Katie says.

Caitlin hears this and steps forward. When this catches her attention. "Katie that's not what happened."

The girls all pause when they hear this being said. "What are you even talking about?" Viv asks confused.

"Katie here was caught cheating on Caitlin with Ruesha Little-John." Beth says.

Viv looks over at her girlfriend confused. "Is this true?" Viv asks directing her attention to Caitlin.

"Yes it's true." Caitlin says.

I shake my head and walk away Caitlin and Leah follow behind me. Me and Caitlin have been dating for a year now. We were getting serious I was shopping for a ring.

Caitlin stops me as she catches up to me. "What the hell was that Y/n?" Caitlin asks me. "Not cool babe." Caitlin sighs and runs her fingers through her hair.

"Babe I di-" Caitlin cuts me off.

"I can't do this right now. I can't, I need some time to think and figure things out." Caitlin says.

I look at her confused. "Hey what does that mean?" I ask confused.

"It means that we are gonna take a break. Take some time to figure out what we both want." Caitlin says.

I don't say anything, I just grab my things and walk away. I get in my car and drive off heading back to my house. Leah and the girls try to text and call me but I ignore their texts and calls.

*one month later*

Caitlin and I have been doing good. I bought her a ring and I'm gonna pop the question today, I just bought the ring. I get in my car and drive to Caitlin's house.

I get to her house, I park in the drive way and see another car in the drive way but don't think anything of it thinking that it might be her sister or one of her parents.

I smile, I grab the ring and go into her house. I smile and make my way into the living room. My heart drops and tears roll down my cheek as I see the sight in front of me.

I'm met with the sight of Caitlin naked and having Sex with Sam Kerr. "What the fuck?" I say.

Sam quickly covers herself with the blanket.

"B-Babe? What are you doing here. I-I thought you weren't coming over until tomorrow." Caitlin says putting her shirt and panties back on.

I look at Kerr and then back at my girlfriend. "How long has this been going on?"

"Bab-" I cut her off.

"How long?" I ask her again.

"A month." Caitlin says and looks down.

"The entire time we were on break you were fucking Sam behind my back?" I ask her crying.

Caitlin tries to speak but I cut her off. "Don't bother, I'm fucking done."

I toss the ring box to Caitlin. Caitlin gasps when she sees what it is, Sam sees the ring and her face drops.

"Oh fuck." Sam mutters.

I shake my head, crying and walk towards the front door.

"Baby, wait. Please, can we please talk about this?" Caitlin asks.

"There's nothing to talk about." I say.

Caitlin tries to stop me, she was hysterical and sobbing. "Baby please, don't go. I'm sorry."

I look at her one last time tears rolling down my cheeks. "Goodbye Caitlin, have a nice life. Maybe you can propose to Sam and give that ring to her." I say.

I open the front door and walk out. Caitlin follows me out into the drive way, I cry and get in my car. I start the car and drive away, Caitlin stands in the drive way crying as she watches me drive away.

I drive to a friend's house. Someone I know who I can talk to. I get to Leah's house, I park my car and knock on the front door. I stand there crying on the front door when she opens the door.

*back to present day*

I notice Leah kneeling in front of me. She takes my hands in hers. "Hey, you okay love?" Leah asks.

I nod. "Can we head back to the hotel? I'm tired." I say.

"Yeah of course, come on." Leah says.

We grab our things and get on the bus. The bus leaves the stadium and heads back to the hotel. We get off the bus and go inside the hotel.

"I'll see you later at dinner. Try to take a nap before, you look tired." Leah says.

I nod, I hug her and head up to my room. I unlock the door and go into my room. I close the door behind me and lock it. I take my shoes off and plop down onto the bed.

Dinner was at 6:30 pm it was 3:30 pm. I set an alarm on my phone for 5:30 pm, I set my phone off to the side and fall asleep. I start dreaming about Katie and Caitlin I groan and wake up.

My alarm blares through the room. I sigh, I turn off my alarm and run the sleep out of my eyes. I get up and start getting ready for dinner.

My phone was at 25% I sigh, I forgot to put it on the charger. I put my slides on, I grab my key card and my phone and leave the room.

I get in the elevator and press the button to the lobby. The doors close and the elevator starts moving down. It goes down a floor, the doors open and I see Katie McCabe standing there.

She groans and gets in the elevator. "Which floor you going to?" I ask.

"Lobby." Katie says in annoyance.

I nod and ignore her bitchy comment. I press the lobby button again, we are staying in the 8th floor. Ireland is staying on the 7th.

"Katie...." I trail off.

Katie looks at me confused. "What?" She asks softly.

"What happened between us?" I ask. You could hear the pain in my voice.

Katie sighs and looks at me. "You know exactly what you did."

"What? Please tell me what did I do? Cause I wasn't the asshole who cheated on my girlfriend." I say.

Katie sighs and looks down. "I was fucking drunk Y/n. I made a mistake. You took my girl from me."

I sigh and rub my face. "Katie I didn't steal Caitlin from you. She broke up with you when she caught you cheating."

Katie chuckles. "Yeah right, I saw the way you looked at her when me and her were together."

I sigh. "I wasn't looking at her. I never looked at her as more than a friend when you two were together."

Katie glares at me. "What the fuck are you on about Y/n."

"Exactly what I said!" I shout and punch the wall.

Katie immediately stops talking getting startled by my actions.

"I never fucking stole Caitlin from you! You cheated on her, she came to me when she needed a friend. It took her 3 months to get over you! It took a couple of dates before her and I started dating!" I say.

Katie stops and looks at me shocked by my sudden outburst. "You hated me for all these years. I never did a single fucking thing to you! All I did was punch you in the face!"

Katie stands there lost for words. "What's wrong Katie? Nothing to say?"

Katie is quiet for a moment and then speaks up. "I didn't know about that." She says quietly.

"Yeah because you blamed me and refused to hear my side of the story. We were best friends you cut me off and became a dickhead after Caitlin ended things with you." I say.

We get interrupted as the elevator goes down 5 floors and stops. I sigh, fucking perfect. I start to quietly panic as I press the "Emergency call" buttons. We are told to get comfy cause it's gonna take them a few hours to get to us.

Katie and I both groan. We stand there and lean against the wall and mess around on our phones. Katie had a sucker in her mouth, there was tension. A bunch of tension between us that we didn't know what to say or do.

30 minutes go by and my phone dies. "Fucking perfect, my phone is dead. What about you?" Katie asks.

"Yeah mines dead too." I say.

I sit there and take deep breathes my phone was distracting me so my mind was occupied. Now my phone is dead and I'm starting to panic as I think about the situation we are in.

*Katie's pov*

I was sitting there lost in thought sucking on my sucker thinking about what Y/n told me. "K-Katie?" Y/n says.

I look over at her, she was panicking and struggling to breathe as she began to have a panic attack. "Woah woah Y/n focus on me bud." I get up and stand in front of her. "Hey deep breaths." I say.

Y/n grabs onto me gasping and trying to breathe, I get an idea as she continues to have a panic attack. I grab her hand and slip it under my shirt and bra and place it on my boob.

"Shhh take deep breaths love. Focus on my breathing match your heart beat with mine." I say.

Y/n nods and takes deep breaths. "Yes there you go love."

Y/n smiles a bit and continues to match her breathing with mine as she takes deep breaths. I blush a bit and get a little wet as her hand was still on my boob.

Y/n calms down, her breathing was back to normal, both of us are quiet and are just looking at each other. There was definitely some sexual tension, my scent was strong in the elevator.

Y/n looks down at my lips, I look down at her lips. Y/n rests her head against mine, I moan as she squeezes my boob a bit. "Mmm fuck." I moan.

Y/n smirks, she leans in and kisses me, our lips move in sync. Y/n plays with the hem of my shirt. "Mmm take it off." I say.

Y/n slides my shirt and bra off and tosses them to the side. I giggle and moan as she kisses my neck down to my chest she kisses and sucks in my neck leaving a few hickys. I moan as she does this, Y/n kisses down to my chest she kisses and suck on my chest and boobs leaving hickys.

Y/n lowers herself and gets on her knees, she kisses from my chest down to my stomach and toned abs. She kisses and sucks on my abs leaving hickys I moan and run my fingers through her hair.

She kisses from my stomach and abs down to my shorts. I bite my lip as she kisses my clothes pussy, I was soaking wet. "Mmm fuck." I moan in pleasure.

I moan and massage my boobs, Y/n playfully tugs at the waistBand of my shorts silently asking for permission. "Take them off." I say.

Y/n slides my shorts and panties down my legs and tosses them off to the side. Y/n kisses and sucks on my thighs leaving a few hickys.

"Y-Y/n please don't T-Tease. I need you." I say begging.

"Mmm yeah baby?" She asks swiping her finger up my folds collecting my juices with her finger. "Fuck baby you're soaking wet.... How long have you been like this?"

"...3 days." I say and blush darkly in embarrassment.

"Mm why didn't you tell me it was this bad?" Y/n asks.

I chuckle at her comment. "Cause we weren't on speaking terms."

Y/n smirks and flips me around, I giggle and moan as she grabs the back of my neck gently and pins me against the wall. Y/n comes back up and rubs my clit with her fingers.

My breath hitches as she does this. I quietly moan. "Mmm you've got a fucking dump truck on you baby." Y/n sexily says squeezing and slapping my ass.

I moan in pleasure as she does this. "What do you want daddy to do baby?" Y/n asks. Her words made me weak and even more wet.

"M-Make me yours." I moan out, I didn't trust my words, I wanted her to Dom me so fucking bad. Y/n presses her front against my back, I bite my lip as I feel her bulge press/ rub against my ass.

Truth is I always wandered how big she was and I always fantasized about her fucking me. Y/n kisses the back of my neck, she trails kisses from the back of my neck down to my ass.

Y/n gets on her knees, she spreads my legs a bit. Y/n kisses my pussy and ass. I moan in pleasure as Y/n starts to eat out my ass from behind.

"F-Fuck." I moan, I push my ass back against her face as she continues to eat out my ass. Y/n slips a finger in my pussy and slowly starts fingering me as she continues to eat my ass.

Fuck I didn't know Y/n liked to eat ass, I was such a slut for anal. I wanted to feel her balls deep inside my ass. Y/n slips in a second finger and fingers me a bit faster as she goes to town and continues to eat my ass out like crazy.

I moan and grind against her face and fingers. "Fuck Y/n." I moan loudly in pleasure. My legs shake and buckle in pleasure as she continues to eat my ass and finger me faster.

I moan in pleasure as I feel myself getting close to cumming. "Y/n baby, I'm gonna cum." I moan in pleasure, Y/n continues to eat my ass as she fingers me faster and rubs my clit her thumb.

I gasp and moan, I can't take it anymore. I cum all over her fingers. Y/n helps me ride out my high, once I come down from my high Y/n pulls her fingers out of me. I lick and suck her juices off my fingers.

Y/n giggles, she kisses my ass and spanks me. She comes back up and kisses me. I moan in the kiss as I taste myself on her lips.

Y/n flips us around I kiss her deeply and lower my hand and rub my bulge over her shorts as I kiss her. Y/n moans in the kiss as I rub her bulge over her shorts.

I grab the waist band of her shorts and her shorts and boxers down her legs and toss them off to the side.

*Y/n's pov*

I pick up Katie and smash my lips against hers, Katie kisses back. I pick her up and push the tip of my dick inside her and slowly sink her down on my dick. We both moan as Katie sinks down on my dick and takes my length deep inside her.

"Mmm fuck, you're really deep in there." Katie moans out in pleasure.

I smirk. "I'm gonna destroy your tight pussy." I say, I slowly slide Katie up and down on my dick.

Katie moans. "Mmm fuck. Katie moans she scratches my back as I slide her up and down on my dick a bit faster.

"Mmm so tight and wet." I moan.

"Mmm fuck, feels so good." Katie cries out in pleasure.

"Mmm make me your cum dumpster." Katie moans.

"Mmm I bet you would love that. Wouldn't you? Huh slut? You wanna be my cum slut?"I ask teasing her.

Katie moans. "Fuck yes please daddy. Please make me your free use slut, make me your personal cum dumpster."

I moan in pleasure and slide her up and down on my dick faster and faster. "Mmm fuck baby, your pussy feels so good. I don't think I can last much longer."

"Mmm fuck yes, give me your cum baby." Katie moans.

"Yeah McCabe? You a slut for daddy's cum? You want daddy's cum deep inside you?" I ask teasing her as I slide her up and down on my dick faster and harder.

My dick hits her g spot at an angle. "Mmm your cum slut." Katie moans.

My balls slap against her skin as our moans fill the elevator. "Mmm fuck daddy I'm close, ahh I'm squirting, I'm squirting." Katie moans.

Katie moans, I feel her shake and buckle against me as she squirts all over my dick and abs and on the ground.

"Let go baby, cum for daddy." I say seductively.

*Katie's pov*

Holy fuck this felt amazing. Y/n was balls deep inside me, god I was so close to cumming and it's only been 10 minutes.

"Let go baby, cum for daddy." Y/n whispers and nips my ear. Her words made me weak and made me super wet, she was so sexy when she is a Dom.

She was really deep in there, mmm she feels so fucking good balls deep inside me. I moan in pleasure as my walls clench around her, I was close to cumming. I couldn't take it anymore I moan and throw my head back as I cum all over her dick. Some of my cum drips down her dick.

Me cumming sends Y/n over the edge, Y/n busts her load deep inside me. I gasp and moan as she fills me up with her load. "O-Oh my g-god." I moan as she shoots thick ropes of sticky cum deep inside me.

I sigh in pleasure as I feel her warm juices oozing inside me, Y/n cutely moans in my ear and nips my ear. Fuck she was till unloading her massive thick seed deep inside me,

"Mmm fuck, give me all your cum." I moan and dig my nails in her back as she comes down from her high. Cum still oozing and spurting inside me.

I moan. "Mmm use your dick and stuff your cum inside Me." I sexily moan. I smirk, "that was just the first load. I'm not done with you just yet." I moan.

*Y/n's pov*

Creampie #1:

I feel Katie cum all over me. Her cumming sends me over the edge, I bust my massive load deep inside her pussy. We both moan as I stuff her pussy full of cum.

Katie moans and throws her head back as I fill her up with cum. Katie moans and looks me feel in the eyes. "Mmm use your dick and stuff your cum deep inside me." She sexily moans.

"Mmm such a cum slut." I moan.

We both moan as I help her slide off my dick. Thick cum oozes out of her and glazes her folds and drips into my dick and onto the ground. I set Katie back on the ground.

I smirk and make her face the wall, I spread her ass cheeks. I slide my dick inside her tight asshole, we both moan, her walls immediately clench around me. Katie gasps and places her hands in the Wall.

"Mm fuck." Katie moans.

I grab her hair, I wrap her hair around my hand and pull her hair. Katie moans as I pull her hair, I place my other hand on her ass we both moan as I slowly thrust in and out of her.

"F-Faster." Katie moans.

I moan and spank her ass, I dig my nails into her ass as I thrust into her faster and faster than before. "Mmm fuck baby, you're so tight I don't think I can last much longer."

I moan as her walls clench around my dick. Katie giggles and moans. "What's wrong daddy? Scared you'll tap out too soon?" Katie asks teasing me.

"Mmm shut up." I smile and shake my head.

I kiss her as I thrust into her faster and harder. "Gah fuck, it's so good. I don't want to cum just yet it's only been 10 minutes." I cutely pout.

Katie giggles and moans as she slides back and forth on my dick. I moan as I feel myself getting closer to cumming. "Mmm fuck baby I'm close to cumming." I moan in pleasure.

"Give me all that cum baby." Katie moans in pleasure as she slides back and forth on my dick, her skin slaps against mine as our moans fill the elevator.

I moan and grab her ass as I continue to pound her ass from behind going even faster and harder than before. I moan as I feel that all to familiar feeling in my balls.

I quickly pull out of her, I make Katie get on her knees. I quickly stroke my dick, Katie smiles and massages her boobs.

Cumshot:

I can't take it anymore, I bust my load all over her tits and face giving her a massive facial. Thick cum shoots all over her cheeks, chin, nose, forehead some coats her eyes. Some cum even goes in her mouth. I moan as I slowly stroke my dick, coming down from my high, the last of my cum oozing in her mouth and on her tits and on her face.

Katie giggles as my cum coats her face. "Mmm fuck that was amazing." I say.

I help Katie stand back up, cum was still oozing out of my dick and onto the ground. I slide my dick back inside her ass.

"Gah fuck." Katie moans.

I place my hands on her ass and thrust in and out of her faster than before. "Fuck.....fuck....fuck." Katie squeaks out with each thrust.

I moan, I dig my nails into her ass as I pound into her ass from behind faster and harder. Katie moans and slides back and forth on my dick .

"Fuck daddy, you feel really good deep inside me." Katie moans.

"Mm yeah? Daddy's dick deep inside your tight ass stretching you out?" I moan.

"Yes, I love it daddy. I love it so much." Katie moans.

I moan and massage my boobs as I thrust into her ass faster and harder I moan as I feel myself getting closer to cumming.

"Mmm fuck baby. I'm gonna cum." I moan.

"Cum baby, pump your load deep in my ass." Katie moans out in pleasure.

I smirk and moan as I pound her ass as fast and as hard as I can. I moan as I feel my balls tighten. I try to warn Katie but I'm unable too.

Creampie #2:

I can't take it anymore, I bust my load deep in her ass. Katie moans and sighs in pleasure as I unload my massive seed in her ass.

"Mmm fuck yes, give me all your cum." Katie moans.

I slowly thrust in and out of her the last of my cum oozing inside her ass. Once I come down from my high I slowly pull out of her, cum oozes out of her ass and drips down her folds and onto the floor.

I spin her around, I grab her leg and rest her leg on my shoulder Katie giggles and squeals as I do this. She moans as I run her folds with my tip.

"Put it back in baby." Katie moans.

*Katie's pov*

I moan as Y/n rubs her tip through my folds. I moan and look down at her dick. "Mmm put it back in baby."

Y/n nods, she slowly slides her dick in my tight pussy. We both moan as I take her length deep inside me.

"Mmm fuck." I moan, I take a moment to adjust to her size. "M-Move." I moan.

Y/n rests her head against mine , she wraps her arm my waist and slowly thrusts in and out of me.

"Mmm fuck, so wet and tight." Y/n moans.

I giggle and kiss her, we both moan in the kiss as she thrusts in and out of me a bit faster, her balls slap against my skin. Our moans are muffled in the kiss.

We both moan in the kiss as she continues to thrust in and out of me faster and faster. "Mmm fuck McCabe, your pussy feels like heaven." Y/n cutely moans.

I giggle and kiss her. "Don't hold back baby. Drain your balls in me." I moan out in pleasure.

Y/n moans, she massages my boobs as she continues to thrust in and out of me, I moan and wrap my arms around her neck.

Y/n goes at an angle and starts pounding my g spot. I moan and gasp in pleasure. "Oh fuck, yes right there." I moan.

I rest my head against hers and look deep into her eyes as she continues to fuck my brains out. Y/n moans and goes faster and harder than before.

I moan as I feel that all too familiar knot forming in my stomach. "Mmm I'm gonna cum." I moan.

"Me too." Y/n cutely moans. Her breathing gets heavier letting me know that she was close to Cumming.

*Y/n's pov*

I moan, I feel my balls tighten. Some of my precum leaks inside her. I was so close to busting my load deep inside her.

Creampie #3:

I can't take it anymore, I bust my load deep inside Katie. Katie gasps and cums all over my dick, we both moan as I shoot ropes of thick sticky cum deep inside her painting her walls white.

"Mm fuck, there's so much." Katie moans in pleasure as I continue to pump her full of cum.

I moan and kiss her deeply as I continue to slowly thrust in and out of her as I continue to pump her full of cum.

I help Katie ride out her high, once we both come down from our highs I slowly pull out of her. Cum immediately pours out of her cum pours onto my dick onto the ground and down her thighs.

"Mmm fuck." Katie moans.

I smile and kiss her, I set her leg back down. Katie hugs me tightly. "I'm sorry Y/n." Katie says.

I hug her back and gently rub her back. "It's okay baby, I'm sorry too."

"Can you forgive me?" Katie asks crying.

"Yes I forgave you a long time ago Katie." I smile and kiss her, I wipe her tears away. "Let's count this as a fresh start."

Katie smile and nods crying. "I would really like that."

I nod and smile, I hug her tightly. I kiss her temple and rub her back. "It's okay love. The past is the past, let's just put it behind us and move forward."

We hear talking through the doors. "Here let's get dressed." I say.

Katie nods. "Yeah we probably should."

We get dressed, I smirk and grab her panties. "Keeping these." I say.

Katie giggles. "They are all yours." She puts her bra and shirt back on and then slides her shorts on.

I put my boxers and shorts back on, I slip my bra and shirt back on and stuff her panties in my pocket. I smile and kiss Katie deeply and lovingly.

The doors open. I pull away, I hand Katie her phone. Katie takes her phone she smiles and looks at me. "Do have a pen or marker?"

I pat my pockets. We were doing film during dinner so I had a pen in my pocket. "Oh yeah I do." I hand it to her.

First responders finally get the doors open. And help us out of the elevator. We are met with worried teammates. I see Leah, Leah looks at me and smirks. I blush darkly and look away.

Katie smiles, she gently grabs my hand and writes her number on my hand. "Text me later. I'll help you out with anymore Wood you get." She winks. She blows a kiss and walks away.

I blush darkly, and check out her ass as she walks away. I can't believe I just fucked Katie McCabe in an elevator.

Leah giggles and wraps her arm around my shoulder. “Nice one love.” She laughs. “Oh my god I can’t believe you and Katie just did it in the elevator.” She teases me.

I blush darkly. I laugh and rub the back of my neck. I wrap my arm around her shoulder. “Come on let’s go eat dinner I’m starving…. Sex is a major work out.” I say.

Leah giggles at my comment. “Yeah I’m aware. Come on let’s go get some food in you.”

#lesbiansmut #my writing #wlw smut #soccer #football #woso smut #woso fanfics #katie mccabe #g!p reader

[riddlerosehearts]

things from percy jackson and the olympians: the lightning thief, chapter 16 "we take a zebra to vegas", that i deeply missed in the tv show:

dyslexia-friendly zoo truck design 😔

annabeth wanting to immediately free the animals LITERALLY WHILE THEY WERE STILL IN THE MOVING TRUCK WITH THEM 😭

annabeth opening up to percy about her fear of spiders and having a really sweet little moment where she shares her oreos with him 🥺

"i don't know what my mom will do, i just know i'll fight next to you" "why?" "because you're my friend, seaweed brain, any more stupid questions?"--one of THE most iconic percabeth moments that practically everyone wanted to see.

percy realizing he can talk to horses, by talking to A ZEBRA, which really should've been featured if they were going to fucking call the episode WE TAKE A ZEBRA TO VEGAS. smh >:(

the kids just stumbling upon the lotus casino and deciding to stay because they're kids who are tired and just relieved to see a friendly face

the place actually feeling like a paradise for kids, and all 3 of them naturally getting lured into its trap and having the time of their lives as a result

percy slowly realizing something is wrong because he runs into a kid who's been there since 1977, dresses like an elvis impersonator, and calls things "groovy"

annabeth not wanting to leave despite knowing it's a trap because she's just a kid and she genuinely thinks this place is amazing and she wants to finish her sim city!!!!

grover and percy, too, being tempted to stay, and all of them having to make the decision to do the right thing by leaving.

#pjo #riordanverse #pjo tv #pjo tv crit #pjo show crit #MAN i'm sorry but i'm rereading and i love this chapter of the book so much #and they just gutted it from start to finish. sigh.

[earthtooz]

x : NOT JEALOUS ! :*+ﾟ

in which: alhaitham isn't jealous, he doesn't get jealous, so what is this suffocating feeling in his chest that only happens when you're talking to another man that isn't him?

warnings: 5.4k words, jealous!alhaitham x gn!reader who has loads of rizz, university!au, fluff with angst but happy ending, pining!alhaitham who doesn't realise that he loves you, kaveh is there, mention of cyno, ooc at some bits?, swearing, alhaitham is a little bit of an asshole at some parts sawry. he's bad with feelings.

a/n: inspired by @danijaci's jealous jealous boy comic with alhaitham! hi dani if you're reading this pls don't perceive me... hides... but i hope you all like it :,)

Alhaitham isn’t jealous. 

The uncomfortable feeling obstructing itself in his throat is just because he’s beginning to develop a sore throat- that’s all. It is flu season after all, who knows what kind of bacteria are in the air? Ones capable of lathing an uncomfortable oil that burns inside his chest, the smog crowding its way into his heart, sickening him to his core as Alhaitham can’t help but eavesdrop on the conversation happening beside him.

“I’m free friday,” a voice besides you confirms.

“Okay!” you cheer, sounding a little too happy for Alhaitham’s liking. After all, it’s 9 am, who has this much energy in the morning? “lets do Friday then!”

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then. Bye Y/n.”

“Bye, see you!” Alhaitham watches from the corner of his eye as you wave to the random stranger you’ve decided to associate yourself with before finally taking the seat beside him with a sigh. 

He doesn’t say anything to you, feeling your eyes glance at him expectantly as he stares stubbornly at the lecture board instead of acknowledging you or the jumble of feelings clogging up his diaphragm. 

“Hello, you,” You lean over slightly, careful to not invade his personal space whilst waving at him, hoping to catch his attention. He glances at you, nodding in greeting before returning to his book, the pages and rows of words only fuelling his unease he suddenly felt. He doesn’t even know where he left off, the book’s events a blur in Alhaitham’s mind.

How bothersome. What’s happening to him?

“Talkative today, aren’t you?” Your tone is playful despite his cold attitude and Alhaitham sneaks another look in your direction, noting the way your lips curve upwards. “So, how are you?” 

“I’m fine,” he murmurs, inserting a bookmark between the pages before slamming it shut, an indicator that you could keep conversing with him.

“Cool.” You tap your nails on the desks of the lecture hall. “Oh, I finished my essay the other day.”

“The one for your elective?”

You hum in agreement, “I hope I never get it back. Submitted it ten minutes before the due date.”

“You know you wouldn’t have been stressed over it if you just started it earlier-”

“I know, I know,” you huff, “spare your productivity lectures for another time, I’ll be needing them later in the semester.” The grey-haired shakes his head as you laugh, but his gaze returns to the front cover of his book as he solemnly thinks about the interaction you had with another man, right in front of him. 

(What right did he have to see you smiling so earnestly like that?)

“Who was that?” Alhaitham coughs out, barely choking down his pride in time to make space for the question.

You murmur some guy’s name that he doesn’t bother to remember. “He’s a friend of mine in the same discussion group for this course and we decided to do the assignment together. He bumped into me on the way in so we were just planning when to meet to do the research.”

“Oh.” Your answer doesn’t calm the churning in Alhaitham’s gut. Not even one bit, in fact, it makes it worse. 

But it’s not jealousy, Alhaitham doesn’t get jealous because he’s above petty feelings of inadequacy. He’s merely concerned for you, worried for your brainpower by the end of the project because your partner seems less-than-incompetent. If you’d picked someone like Alhaitham (or better yet, just picked Alhaitham), you would’ve aced the class without even blinking an eye. 

(The two of you are friends, so why didn’t you pick him? It’s literally been proven that the two of you are compatible working together since you were both executives of Sumeru’s Cultural Society, and amidst all of the activities the club has run, you’ve collaborated many times to make each event run flawlessly. So why not him? Why would you pick another man over him?)

“You know you could have picked me, I wouldn’t mind working on the assignment with you,” he grumbles, words soft but very clear.

Alhaitham misses the way your eyes widen in shock as apologies scramble out of your mouth. “I’m sorry! I automatically assumed that you wanted to work on it by yourself. Next time I’ll ask you.” 

The lecture begins before he could say anything in return and like a robot, he sets his thoughts aside and begins listening, notes document up and cursor blinking at the ready.

A mundane two hours pass by, one powerpoint slide after powerpoint slide before the lecture is finally over, much to your pleasure. Alhaitham notices the way you eagerly jump out of your seat to stretch, grabbing your bag. On the other hand, your grey-haired accomplice takes his time in packing up, forcing you to wait for him.

“Would you like to get some coffee before the meeting?” You ask.

“Sure, we can find a seat there and join it together,” he adds and you beam at him, expression bright and so enchanting that it makes him forget about all the perplexities he felt before the lecture. 

The two of you make your way to one of the many campus cafés where you practically wrestled Alhaitham to stop him from paying for both your orders (losing in the end) before sitting at a booth, your laptop set up with a pair of Alhaitham’s earphones shared between you. The meeting begins to fill up with almost all committee members, even Kaveh, who resides in his room of his and Alhaitham’s shared flat. Upon noticing him, you go to text him, with the grey-haired peeking over your shoulder from time to time to see your conversation- not that he cares that much.

(Perhaps if Kaveh glanced up from his phone, then he’d see how close Alhaitham had gotten with you, breaching the distance that he prefers to keep around others. He’d also notice the headphone sharing despite how he generally tends to keep them out of anyone else’s hands.)

You’re tasked with the role of taking notes for the meeting since Alhaitham, in your opinion, is not at all a reliable scribe. His notes tend to just include vital information and never what everyone else needs to know, yet each time you scold him for it, his unbothered expression never falters, waving your complaints off with a shrug. 

“Hey, Kaveh and I are going to go for lunch tomorrow after our classes. Care to join?” You ask, smiling at him hopefully as your messages with Kaveh sit open on your screen. Alhaitham doesn’t think twice before agreeing. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“It looks like it’s about to rain,” you murmur, pulling out a chair as Alhaitham and Kaveh take their seats opposite you. 

“So it does,” Alhaitham notes, not caring to look too long out the window before returning his gaze to you. “You have an umbrella, right?”

“I, uh, didn’t think I needed one today.”

“Do you not check the weather before you leave?”

“Not everyone’s like you, Alhaitham.” Kaveh teases. “It’s no problem, Y/n, if it rains I can walk you back to your dorm.”

“Only if you are okay with it,” you insist, “I have no problem walking home in the rain. I love the rain.”

Alhaitham intervenes with a raise of his hand. “Nonsense, you’ll catch a cold. We’ll walk you home.”

A soft but genuine ‘thank you’ slips from your lips, neither of you wiser to the way Kaveh eyes his roommate suspiciously, not missing the use of ‘we’ in his sentence and the implications the collective pronoun has. For it meant that Alhaitham is willing to take precious time out of his day to perform an act for someone that he is not indebted to do. Not that Alhaitham is inherently selfish, per se, but he is a man of routine. He wakes up every morning and takes five minutes to scribble on his stupid whiteboard in the kitchen what he has to do for the day and strictly abides by it, not even straying two minutes off schedule.

Willingly volunteering his minutes? Kaveh finds that suspicious. 

“So, how’s your architecture assignment, Kaveh?” You ask, breaking the blond from his daze whilst Alhaitham pours glasses of water for the table, starting with your cup. 

“A nightmare,” he sighs, sinking into his chair. “I still have so much to do, you know my professor didn’t like my blueprint? How ridiculous! I hope that man steps in a puddle and wets his sock.”

The grey-haired pipes up with a remark. “I can’t wait for it to be done, our living room is a mess right now.” 

“Hey, I am the one that cleans that living room, thank you very much. Your bookshelf is still a mess even though I’ve asked you to clean it five times.”

“If it bothers you so much then why don’t you do it yourself?”

“I’m the only one who-”

“-I’m going to go to the bathroom,” you murmur, cutting the conversation before shuffling out of your chair, seemingly eager to do so.

Kaveh turns to the grey-haired again, “and you just scared away Y/n.”

“Sorry no one wants to hear about your architecture project.”

“Y/n literally asked, asshole.”

A rebuttal sits on the tip of Alhaitham’s tongue- as it always does when it comes to bickering with his roommate, but it dies out when an intruder comes to the table. “Excuse me, I hate to interrupt,” he begins, “but the person who just got up, is that your friend?”

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“Oh, I just wanted to drop this off, mind passing it over for me?” The piece of paper he was holding lands in Kaveh’s hand. “Thanks, bro.” Is all he says before strolling away, out of sight but definitely not out of mind.

The blond does not hesitate to open it up, chuckling in amusement when reading the content. “’Hey you’re cute, here’s my number’ it says. What a bitch! You didn’t like his vibes either, right, Alhaitham?”

“Hold on, what does the note say?”

Grabbing (snatching) it from Kaveh, the grey-haired has half a mind to rip the note apart, a certain sense of distaste washing over him that intensifies the long he stares at the guy’s handwriting. His eye is twitching. Why is his eye twitching?

“Hey!” He hears Kaveh call. “Don’t scrunch it, that’s Y/n’s-“

Alhaitham stuffs the ball of paper into his bag where he’ll recycle it later even though something irrational within him tells him to burn it. “Y/n won’t miss it. You said it yourself, he’s a bitch.”

“Sure, but why are you doing-“

“Hey!” You interrupt, sliding back into your chair with a grin on your face. “So, what did I miss?”

“Nothing,” the grey-haired murmurs, assuming his crossed-arm position. Kaveh side eyes his roommate before agreeing with a hum. “Let’s order something now. We want to beat the rain, right?”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

This meeting for the Sumeru Society might have been one of the most important ones of the year thus far, with almost every committee member expected to attend. After all, the annual ball was a big event that always had the largest turnout, and the amount of planning that goes into it to ensure its success is almost triple that of its other events.

So why weren’t you here?

“Why did you leave the meeting early on Friday?” Alhaitham asks as soon as he sees you.

You pause briefly, eyes widening and eyebrows raising. It must have been the way that Alhaitham’s voice raised a pitch towards the end of the question, demonstrating a nervous break in character that was not at all typical. Cool and collected would be the defining words to describe Alhaitham, as well as someone who does not care for the menial activities of others, so what is he doing asking you? And why does he care so much?

“I, uh, had dinner with someone,” you confess, continuing to grab your books and laptop, missing the way his features contort into something un-cool, and very un-Alhaitham.

“Whom?”

You murmur the name of some other guy, who he vaguely recalls to be your project partner.

“What?” Alhaitham snaps.

“I didn’t think missing out on some of the meeting would be a big deal! I got another committee member to explain what I missed,” you justified. “Besides, there’s no big events going on right now, so I thought-”

“-That you could abandon your tasks and go have fun with someone else?”

Alhaitham’s not really sure why he said that. He’s not angry that you skipped a meeting; there are larger things in the world to worry about, he’s angry because you spent time with another guy that wasn’t him.Why not go to dinner with him instead? He spends it every night with Kaveh, and you are far more favourable than Kaveh.  

“Is it really something to get mad over? I already told you, I got the meeting notes and everything-”

“-You’re an executive of the society, Y/n, more is expected from you.”

“Seriously?” you ask, “how come you didn’t bat an eye when the vice president wasn’t there the other day?”

“Because she was sick.” 

“Okay, fine! what about the subcommittee? they’re not always there either!” 

“They’re subcom. Whether they miss a meeting or not is not crucial.”

“So, it’s just my business that you care about?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed, disbelief clouding over your expression like a mask.

Again, Alhaitham doesn’t know where these punches are coming from and why he’s throwing them against you so viciously, but his heart is tightening defensively with a burning emotion that he’s been feeling more and more recently, and his first instinct is to lash out, to protect himself from it.

Perhaps it’s because foreign things that he can’t understand terrify him and you, all you ever do is make him feel things that he’s never felt before and he can’t understand why. 

“You’re not that special.”

A flash of hurt gleams in your eyes and Alhaitham knows now that he’s royally fucked up. “You’re an ass,” you grumble, about to walk away when he intercepts.

“Listen to me!”

“Fuck off!” 

“Y/n-”

You’re gone before he can get another word out, retreating figure stomping away whilst his chest weaves into knots; something that no amount of deep breathing can calm. It doesn’t help that the minute he returns home, Kaveh is onto him like some sort of parasite, curious over the tense air surrounding his normally-composed roommate. 

“Hey, welcome home- whoa, what’s gotten into you?” The blond asks.

“None of your business,” Alhaitham grumbles through gritted teeth, taking his shoes off and throwing them aside haphazardly. Kaveh doesn’t miss the way Alhaitham’s jaw is clenched, or the strain in his hand when he brings up a hand to run through his hair, or the very subtle and minute twitch in his cheek.

The blond ignores all signs that he wants to be left alone, and instead, follows the grey-haired to his room after he swung the door open. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on, let’s talk about this-”

“Talk about what?” Alhaitham growls.

“Who pissed in your black coffee today?” 

“No one. Now get lost.” 

“Aw, come on, you know what they say. Getting things off your chest is always beneficial.”

“There’s nothing on my chest, go away.”

“You sure? no stress, no deadlines, no love interest making you tear your hair out-”

“-No, no, none of those!”

“Then what?”

Alhaitham steadies himself by resting his elbows on his thighs, hands clasped together as he exhales loudly. “I got pissed and took it out on Y/n, who’s mad at me now.”

“Huh? Why so annoyed?”

“Because Y/n went to dinner with another man.”

It’s silent for a while. The sassy quip that he expects from Kaveh does not happen. Instead, the blond merely smiles, a satisfied, knowing grin that slightly irks him. “You know, I’ve been waiting for the day you realise you have feelings for Y/n.” 

“What? Where did you get that conclusion from?” Alhaitham sits up straighter. There are a lot of things he knows, and he knows for sure that he does not like you in any way beyond platonic. He doesn’t have any time to spare for love. There are scholarships he still needs to apply for, internships to be interviewed for, research projects to submit- nowhere amongst the minute hand of the clock is there space for love. 

“Oh come on,” Kaveh sits down on the bed beside his roommate, leaning back on his hands. “You’re not as smooth as you hope to be sometimes.”

“I’m serious, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Y’know the sooner you accept you have feelings for Y/n, the easier life will be.”

“Life is already easy and there is no sooner because I don’t like Y/n like that. Now get lost. I have stuff I need to finish.”

Kaveh shrugs, standing up with a soft ‘suit yourself’, taking seven steps before he’s out of the room. Alhaitham lets out a sigh that has lodged itself in his throat for too long, and the feeling of reprieve he gets is short-lived before he’s flooded with a certain tightness again. Maybe he did have a weight on his chest after all, not that he’d ever admit it to himself or Kaveh.

He gets up from his made bed with a grunt and decides to push aside all distractions. Time is unforgiving, and if doesn’t finish his assignment by this Friday then he’ll be a little less than pleased.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Alhaitham feels like he can’t breathe. 

You’re sitting alone at a library desk, all focused and concentrated on your laptop screen with your headphones on, blocking out any outside voice as you type away. He wonders if he should say hi, maybe try apologising for the way he acted last Monday- who is this guy that’s approaching you and why does he look so familiar? 

And why are you smiling so happily?

You beckon to the seat beside you and the guy readily complies, taking the chair beside you like he belonged there, like there weren’t other candidates that should be there instead (he’s not talking about himself. definitely not).

He hands you one of two coffee cups he’s holding. What kind of right does this guy have to give you a coffee? Does he even know your order?

He feels like a bit of creep keenly watching you interact with someone else from a balcony of the library, but the book and laptop in front of him lies forgotten, and in a rare moment of weakness, Alhaitham can’t find it in himself to return to his tasks, pursuit of knowledge momentarily forgotten. He can’t push aside the bile that threatens to rise, he can’t loosen his grip on the couch’s armrest, and he can’t blink for a second in fear of losing you from his sight.

(You’re laughing. Why are you laughing? How can you look so pretty laughing and why doesn’t he ever get to make you laugh like this?)

Alhaitham is losing his damn mind. So much so that the first thing he does when he sees you again is corner you. 

“You shouldn’t talk to that guy anymore.”

You’re backed against the brick walls of the time-worn building that your shared lecture always takes place in, and Alhaitham, spotting you like a hawk, put you in this precarious position as soon as the two hours were over. 

He can’t breathe. It’s been almost three weeks since you last spoke to him and you’re staring up at him like you’ve done nothing wrong, blinking once and twice at his uncharacteristic display of subtle aggression. 

“Who?” you mutter, shaking your head to try and grasp reality once again. you hug your laptop closer to your body. “What’s this about?”

“I said you shouldn’t talk to that guy anymore.” 

“What guy?” 

“Your project partner.”

“Really?” you mutter in disbelief.

He nods, teal eyes shining at you firmly. “Really. The project’s over, you don’t need to talk to him anymore.” 

“I don’t recall ever giving you the right to dictate who gets to be in my life or not, just like how you can’t tell me what to do with my time.” 

“I’m looking out for you, so stop trying to make me sound tyrannical.” 

Your mouth hangs open as you furrow your eyebrows, growing more and more frustrated with each second. So much for thinking that he wanted to resolve the awkwardness between the two of you. “I’m not even going to argue with you,” you murmur a quick ‘jerk’ under your breath before brushing past him. 

Alhaitham, however, is not willing to let you go as easily as you wish, quick to chase after you. Not that you go far anyways, turning around to face him again in the spaciousness of the vacant hallway. “Why do you care?” You ask, exasperated. “You’re Alhaitham, you don’t let trivial things like who I hangout with bother you, you’re cool and collected and rational, and I just don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”

He doesn’t understand either, not the erratic beating of his heart, the stubbornness of his mind, nor this undisputable urge to keep you all to himself. Is it normal to want to hide someone for selfish reasons?

Trailing off, Alhaitham is slightly humiliated that for the first time in his life, someone has witnessed him coming short of an answer. No logical conclusion, no explanation, not even a satisfying quip, just plain, suffocating silence.

“Right. When you do have an answer, let me know.” You walk away.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Your last rebuttal still weighs heavily on Alhaitham’s mind, even two days later as he and Kaveh are seated for a lecture in a shared course. His thoughts are scrambled like never before, the messiness of it all making him feel uneasy because for once, he doesn’t have an appropriate answer to a question.

Why was he acting like a temperamental teenager? What you did with your life was up to you, and indeed he has no right trying to change that. More importantly, why was it so hard to apologise for the stuff he said-

“So, how’s everything between you and Y/n?” 

Kaveh turns to him with widened eyes whilst Alhaitham’s poker face doesn’t move an inch, deceivingly apathetic.

“Good, we’ve been hanging out a lot more recently,” the other guy says, who Alhaitham quickly recognises to be your project partner and distaste rises in his stomach like bile. 

“Aye, good for you, man! So when are you going to ask Y/n out?”

“No way, bro, not yet. I’m such a wimp, but I hope I grow the balls to ask soon because I really like-”

“-looks like you got some competition!” The blond nudges Alhaitham, and if it were anyone else, they would not have glanced twice at the grey-haired who seemed unmoving and uninterested. However, Kaveh is not anyone else because he noticed the darkened look in Alhaitham’s eyes instantly, anger seeping into his composed gaze as his nose scrunches in disgust. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“So, you and Alhaitham still aren’t talking?” Kaveh asks, leaning on the table of the restaurant with curious ears, hoping that he can grab some answers out of you as to why there was a stalemate between you and his roommate.

“Nope,” you sigh. 

“Why not?”

“I’m just-” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “I’m just waiting on an apology from him.”

“An apology? Why? What did he say?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“You know how he is. Always insufferably secretive, so no, I don’t know anything that happened.” 

“Alhaitham just said some hurtful things to me, and he was being weird when I told him I was going to dinner with a friend of mine. Just kept being in my business.”

“Really?” The architecture student quirks a brow, confusion plastered on his face. “That’s not like Alhaitham at all.”

“I know, right? He kept trying to be like ‘don’t hang out with him’ and ridiculed me for not playing my part as an executive of the Sumeru society,” you complained, “like sorry I have other things I want to do.”

Kaveh nods in understanding as the conversation briefly stops when the waiter comes to drop off utensils at your table. As soon as they were gone, however, you begin again.

“And even though he was all up in my business, trying to tell me what not to do, he then said that I wasn’t special, which is so confusing because like-”

“-hold on. Alhaitham said that you weren’t special?” You nod at his parroted claim. “To him?” 

“Yeah. Stung like shit when he said that, especially since I thought we were friends but guess not,” you murmur sadly, fiddling with the fork.

Later that night, almost immediately after meeting you over dinner, Kaveh barges into his roommate’s room, not even changing out of his outside clothes. The sudden intrusion shocks Alhaitham who was busy typing on a document, textbook splayed open beneath him but momentarily forgotten as the blond takes a seat on the bed.

“What the- not even a hello?” The grey-haired asks, confused by this uncharacteristic silence of Kaveh’s. It’s pretty normal for the blond to barge into his room without notice, but it was not normal for him to be so quiet, practically brooding on the mattress. “Whatever. Where have you been? Have you eaten yet, because I made-”

“When will you just confess to Y/n?”

The mention of your name causes a spike in Alhaitham’s heartbeat and he swivels around instantly, attention fully directed towards his roommate. “Where is this coming from?”

“Y/n told me everything that happened between you two by the way-”

“-what, when?”

“Tonight, we just met for dinner.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“What would you have done if you knew? Showed up and made things worse?” He doesn’t say anything in retaliation, merely shutting his mouth and furrowing his eyebrows. “Why did you say that Y/n wasn’t special to you?” 

“I didn’t,” Alhaitham sighs, very loud and very perplexed. “I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did.”

“Don’t you miss Y/n? You two used to hangout so often.”

“I do, of course I do!” He exclaims, burrowing his face in his hands. 

“So why aren’t you apologising?” 

“Because whenever I’m around Y/n, I’m not who I normally am,” he mutters, “especially everything whenever that project partner is around-”

“Jealous, much?”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Oh come on, you’re ridiculous. Stop pushing away your feelings and just be honest with yourself, Alhaitham! Y/n is not just a friend to you and you know it.”

“But, we are just friends-”

“So you mean to tell me that if I hung out with someone else- like if I hung out with Cyno, you would be pissed?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Then why is it different with Y/n?” Once again, Alhaitham doesn’t have an answer to the question, sitting as still as a statue hunched over his desk. “Fine, I’ll spell it out to you. You like Y/n, more than just a friend!”

The silence leftover from Kaveh’s outburst is tense and full as the grey-haired lets the words sink in. 

“I’ll let you think about it,” the blond murmurs, voice softening dramatically as he stalks out of the room. Before he closes the door, however, he leaves a few final words. “Just- be honest with yourself, Alhaitham, and I wouldn’t delay trying to talk to Y/n.”

A sharp click rings through the room.

Alhaitham is no stranger to being alone, for who needs the company of others when you are happiest by yourself? Yet, in the weeks that you have not been speaking to him, a cardinal urge as been growing each and each day, wanting him to do something so atypical of him: to reach out and make the first move. Every passing day doesn’t lessen the thoughts that plague his mind, rather, they make him more and more impatient, because what if you get swept away by your project partner? 

(What if he’ll be too late? What if you won’t know of these powerful emotions that are steering through the storm in his heart? What if you won’t know just how badly he was been wanting you- wanting to see you, wanting to apologise, wanting to see you beam at him like you always would.

What if you won’t know that he adores you, especially now that he’s figured it out?).

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

A rain droplet falls and lands on your nose, another lands on your forehead, then another lands on your lip then more and more keep falling from the cloudy sky, falling through the leaves and landing on the bench you were currently sitting on. Goodness, you should have checked the weather before leaving your dorm. Why was it now out of all times that it had to rain, what would Alhaitham think after he finally decided to reach out to talk?

Taking your phone out to message the grey-haired about relocating, an umbrella is suddenly held over you, stopping the gentle drizzle from falling onto you. Looking up, you’re greeted by a familiar face that you have been missing too much recently.

“Hello, you,” you breathe, voice gentle and quiet and Alhaitham feels like he can finally breathe after so long, the scent of rain washing away all perplexion.

He nods at you in greeting before offering you the bouquet of flowers he was holding. A gorgeous arrangement of pink of white stare prettily at you and a man even more gorgeous expects you to accept it.

“For me?” You ask.

“For you.”

“Thank you, they’re so beautiful,” you take his gift with gentle hands, holding it close to your chest. 

“I want to apologise,” he firmly states, getting straight to the point; very Alhaitham of him. “For treating you the way I have been recently.”

You beam at him, so bright and so gorgeous that it renders him speechless, a feat pretty difficult when it comes to someone like Alhaitham who has a whole dictionary of words, in multiple languages too. Somehow, they all flock out of his mind the second you smile at him.  

“I accept your apology, thank you for reaching out, must have been hard for someone like you, huh?” You tease, standing up from the bench.

“Well, I had do for someone as special as you.” The grey-haired’s voice is deceivingly confident and assured, but you know better, especially when he looks away to hide his expression with his neatly styled bangs. 

“No need for the flattery, you know, I’ve already forgiven you.” There’s a moment of silence that occupies the air, caused by Alhaitham’s hesitation as he fishes his brain for the courage to ask you out. You speak before he can get a word out, however. “I got asked out the other day.”

“By your groupmate?”

“He has a name, you know, but, yeah. I rejected him, though,” you laugh awkwardly, almost like you were trying to cope with it by playing it off. “Did you know that he would do that?” 

“Yes. I did.”

“Is that why you were so adamant on me not hanging out with him?”

“I guess you could say that. We can talk more about it another time,” he tells you, voice gentle and caring to mask the subtle hit of jealousy he feels in his chest, scolding himself for letting someone else confess to you before him. However, it’s a minute sensation in comparison to the triumph Alhaitham feels knowing that you rejected the other party. 

“We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

“We do, but I want to ask you something first.” 

You nod, hugging the bouquet closer to your chest, anticipation heavy in the air as you spur him to continue. 

“If I asked you out, would you reject me too?”

A mere second passes by where you don’t respond, yet the second stretches out to what feels like eternity as Alhaitham’s stomach churns. Patience is something he doesn’t lack, but how can he be patient when his heart wants you so bad? 

Then, you take his hand, and the heavens sing at the feeling of your hand in his. “I wouldn’t, but are you asking me out?”

“Are you free right now?”

“I am. Why?”

“Let’s go out then. On a date.”

“I'd love to.” You rise up to place a lingering kiss on his cheek, one that has his heart racing with joy rather than frustration.

The smile you earn is gentle, shy, but says more than Alhaitham's words ever can.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

#i didn't edit this btw don't judge #alhaitham x reader #al-haitham x reader #alhaitham x you #al haitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #fluff #alhaitham fluff #al-haitham fluff #genshin fluff #genshin x reader #alhaitham fic #genshin fic

[monsterfuckerpillowprincess]

Tags: NSFW, alien x reader, alien boyfriends, fem reader, established relationship, double penetration, ovulation, laying eggs, mentions of labor and delivery

Word count: 877

~*~*~

Imagine having two alien boyfriends who can’t resist you. They love ravishing your holes every chance they get. Thankfully, you have two of them so they don’t have to fight over one, although you wouldn’t be entirely opposed to that.

They always open you up so carefully so they don’t hurt you, their long, nimble fingers exploring your insides as easily and with as much curiosity as they explore the farthest reaches of the galaxy.

One of them sits down on the comfy couch in your quarters, his aching cock emerging from his genital slit with an obscenely wet sound, glistening with mucus. It makes it so easy for you to slide down onto him. You approach him, your hole having been thoroughly stretched out on the bed, turn with your back to him, and sit on his cock, gasping at how far this position forces him inside you. How far your tight little hole stretches around him.

You sit there for a moment while your body adjusts, luxuriating in feeling him so deep inside your guts. He runs his soft yet textured hands all over your back and hips. Worshiping you.

Your other alien boyfriend watches from the foot of the bed, playing with his own genital slit to coax his cock out. It doesn’t take much, as desperate as he is for you. He crosses the room in two long, smooth strides and pushes your legs apart, kneeling on the floor between them. No matter how many times they’ve seen you naked, they always marvel over your anatomy. Your delicate, pink folds; your sensitive clit, your two holes that they think are absolutely beautiful, the way you get so wet for them at the slightest touch.

He doesn’t push inside you right way, but instead circles your clit with his fingers, the texture of them sending shivers through your body. It makes you clench around the cock in your ass. The one whose lap you’re sitting in nuzzles into the side of your neck and holds your legs apart while the other one continues exploring you.

He slips two fingers inside you, tracing the outline of the other’s cock through your wall. That right there almost makes you come. You love the way they coo over you, their sweet little human, always making sure you feel good, making sure each of your holes receives the amount of attention it deserves.

You’re right on the cusp of begging for it when the one kneeling between your legs finally pushes inside you. A cry rips its way out of you as you’re filled to the brim with dripping wet alien cock. They immediately start fucking you, one of them pulling back while the other surges forward in perfectly coordinated movements. You’re so glad the walls of the ship are soundproof, otherwise every single one of your crewmates would be able to hear you screaming, crying, begging them to fuck you harder.

It doesn’t take long before you’re trembling between them, completely at their mercy, but knowing that you’re completely safe with them. They would never dream of harming their precious human.

You come long and hard, arching your back and clenching so hard around their cocks, you think you might pass out. Maybe you did pass out there for just a moment because the next thing you know, the one in front of you is stroking your face while the other one draws soothing circles on the backs of your thighs with his fingertips. You become dimly aware of something latching on inside you, your cervix being dilated, and a moment later, he begins depositing eggs inside your womb. He is ovulating, so he gets to fuck your pussy. Those are the rules.

You sigh and relax and let them take care of you. They let you know what a good job you’re doing receiving his eggs, what a good vessel you will be for them. You preen under the attention. You’ve done this enough times that it doesn’t even hurt anymore as egg after egg pops inside you. By the time he is finished, your belly curves outward slightly. He’s laid a big clutch inside you this time. He kisses you on the forehead as he seals up your cervix so none of his eggs escape.

Laying eggs always takes a lot out of him, so he stretches out on the bed while the other one eases his cock out of your ass and carries you to the bathroom, where he draws you a nice, hot bath. He gently cleans between your legs with a washcloth; their mucus can really make a mess sometimes, but you stopped caring a long time ago.

You run your hand over your slightly protruding belly while he tends to you, thinking about the labor and delivery you will go through in a few months. The eggs have to be delivered under water; their shells will crack if they are exposed to air too suddenly. The medical wing has several tubs for this specific purpose, but if no complications arise, you plan on delivering them right here in your own quarters, where you’re the most comfortable, and your two alien boyfriends will be there for you every step of the way.

#monster fucker #monster lover #terato #teratophillia #exophelia #alien fucker #alien boyfriend #alien lover #laying eggs

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, noncon, emotionally distant yandere, death threats

gn reader

Thinking about an extremely aromantic psychopathic yandere who’s completely out of touch with his feelings...

From the moment you infected his mind, he desperately wanted nothing more but to gauge you out and bleach your existence away.

He was ready to do anything.

It's not like it's something he hasn't done before. It shouldn't have been a problem. But standing there above your sleeping form with the knife to your unsuspecting neck, he felt his own throat close up.

Something he'd never felt before made him stop – something in his chest that ached worse than any pain he'd ever beared – something that made his hands shake with cold and his eyes leak warmth down his face.

He doesn't understand what's going on, and it's annoying. You're annoying. He doesn't want to see your face, but at the same time... the thought of going without it pisses him off even more.

He doesn't want to keep you around, but he ends up feeling as though he has to. He tells himself it's only until he feels ready to finish you off – like a lamb raised for slaughter in the wolf's den.

You don’t really know what goes on inside his head when he glares at you with hints of vexation and hunger – eyes narrowed at you almost in disgust, as though you’re some sort of nuisance, some sort of sickness he can’t seem to shake – but also something else – something hungry – something in the way he locks his jaw and swallows thickly before growling out an irate sigh as he throws his shirt off and climbs on top of you.

It seems almost as though he sees it all as a simple means to an end – as though the urge arising within his gut is a plague he needs to cure as quickly as possible – and you as a mere tool for him to do exactly that.

He never kisses you. You don’t think he knows how. The sex isn’t any good either – all cold, methodical movements as though he’s a robot who’s been told to complete a task it wasn’t programmed to do. 

It’s obvious he doesn’t view you as much more than something he owns. 

Sometimes, he’ll even look surprised when you voice wishes and needs of your own – as though he’s forgotten that you’re still a living, breathing thing and not just something he’s hunted and killed and stuffed for sport.

But that’s how you feel most days anyway – like a dog’s humping toy – just a limp thing made up of cotton and torn fabric trying to hold itself together, getting more frayed by each passing day.

It's surprising he hasn't killed you yet. He told you he would when the time was right, but it's been more than a while now. You wonder if it's a surprise for him as well.

Probably not...

He’s like a machine. Wordless, sept for the steady string of growls and groans as he fucks you fast like you’re this annoying reminder that he’ll never be able to get rid of the warmth in his gut forcing him to complete the tedious task again and again and never be done with it.

It almost feels as though he hates you.

While his hand holds yours down, cuffing your wrists above your head with the other wrapped tight around your throat. Not because you bother fighting back. But – you think, perhaps… he feels as though it’s your fault somehow – your fault that he feels this way. 

He’ll mutter about it sometimes – that he was just fine before you came along – level-headed, composed, perfect before he met you. 

He pulls out just before cumming inside you, tugging himself in quick faps, then blows all over your stomach and chest. 

The sigh he breathes out is like an exclamation of “fucking finally” while his throbbing length bobs, still seeping pearls of cum, slowly calming down the more he squeezes it all out into a white pool on your pelvis. 

He isn’t much better after, either. 

Loosening his grip on you, he’ll grunt out something along the lines of “Go clean yourself up.” 

But sometimes... as time goes on... he starts doing something that somewhat resembles a kiss before leaving you.

It's awkward, like a brush or press of his stiff lips against yours – one of which reminds you of the type of nudge a dog could be trained to do in exchange for a treat – almost like a thank you.

He hasn't spoken about killing you in a while...

It scares you – how it's become so trivial it almost feels marital...

You don't know what scares you more though...

The thought that he's going to kill you one of these days, or the thought that he's forgotten about it all together.

BNHA – Bakugou, Overhaul, Shigaraki

JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Toji, Kenjaku

DS – Muzan, Sanemi

HxH – Illumi, Feitan

AOT - Levi

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #smut #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia smut #mha smut #yandere mha #yandere bnha #my hero smut #my hero academia smut #bnha smut #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

{ Thank you for the idea @imsodonewiththissite !! It almost got angsty but i controlled myself!!! }

"What in God's name is that?" Dustin’s voice goes almost shrill as he walks behind Steve, looks down at his pumpkin. Eddie's head shoots up from where he's carving his own pumpkin, his legs shot out in front of him, his feet hitting Steve's across from him. Steve flushes, tells Dustin to shut up, and shoves at his legs to get him to move on.

"Alright alright jeez! It's just... I've never seen a pumpkin like that. Did you even try?" Dustin huffs as he settles back into his own carving area between Lucas and Will.

"Yes. I did try. Thank you very much. Henderson." Steve huffs, wipes at his pumpkin, then wipes his hand in the grass to get the bits of guts off. Eddie sits up taller, making a show of trying to see Steve's carving, but not really trying to see, they'd agreed to show each other at the same time.

Steve hadn't really had any idea what to do, so he'd just done something silly. But he could see Will and Dustin’s and theirs were detailed, and spooky. And his just looked... stupid, now. Steve sighed and put the top back on his, waiting for Eddie to finish.

He was staring, he knew he was. He couldn't help it. He loved when Eddie was in full concentration mode, his tongue poking out between his lips, his brows crinkled. Steve would never tell him that. But he could look. No harm in that.

Eddie looked up and met his eyes, smiled brightly, and dusted of his own pumpkin before popping the top back on. He tilted his head, this way and that, a few times and then looked at Steve again.

"Okay. You ready?" He asked, drumming his fingers on the gourd resting under his hands. Steve scrunched his nose.

"I'm having second thoughts." He said quietly, the kids were all yelling, in their own little world, but he still didn't want them to hear.

"Aww. But I'm excited to see it! Especially with the way Dusty Buns reacted." Eddie drooped, his eyes going wide and sad, the way Steve was weak agaisnt. He sighed, his own body drooping.

"Ugh. Fine. On three?" He tilted his head. Eddie nodded.

"On three."

"One."

"Twosie." Eddie wiggled his fingers, Steve rolled his eyes fondly.

"Three!" They both said it together and turned their pumpkins toward each other.

Steve's eyes shot open, Eddie's was... good. Like really good. Everything a spooky jack-o-lantern should be. Creepy eyes, sharp teeth, what looked like a skull nose.

"Holy shit Eds. That's... holy shit. Mine is so shit compared to- why are you making that face? What's happening?" Steve changed directions mid sentence because Eddie's mouth had dropped open as he stared at Steve hideous excuse for a carving.

"Oh my god you hate it." Steve grabbed at his pumpkin, about to turn it back toward him and hide it forever but he froze when a sound started coming out of Eddie's open mouth.

It took a moment to really form, but once it got going, Steve could hear it. Manical giggles were bubbling up out of Eddie's mouth. He slapped his hands over his face to stop them but they just kept coming.

Steve wasn't sure if he should be offended or not. He frowned though, his brows dropping on his head and Eddie immediately shook his head.

"Oh my god he's ADORABLE!" Eddie cackled the words, shoved his own pumpkin genlty aside and crawled toward Steve's, his hands outstreched and grabbing.

"I know it's- wait what?" Steve was so confused.

"Steve I love him. Look at his stupid little face." He'd devolved into baby talk and was scratching at the pumkin like you would a babies chin. Steve felt himself smiling.

"Wait you actually like it?" Dustin guffawed from behind him. Eddie spun around fast, guarding Steve's pumpkin from sight.

"Excuse me?! 'It'? Don't you ever speak like that about my son- our son!" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Steve. Dustin rolled his eyes.

"It's not even scary! It's just a big mouth!" Dustin’s hands flailed. Eddie screamed at him dramatically, clutching his chest.

"He has a tooth! And two adorable teeny tiny eyes!" Eddie moved, pointed at the face Steve had made. El and Will both aw-d, Max and Lucas smiled, Mike just rolled his eyes.

"He's not- it's just-" Dustin stammered a bit.

"What? Dustin. He's what?!" Eddie asked, his hands still clutching at his chest.

"He's ugly! Okay? It's an ugly pumpkin!" Dustin yelled, Steve didn't even have time to feel hurt, because Eddie shrieked again, his voice going impossibly high.

"Dustin Henderson! I can't believe you just called your brother ugly. You heathen!" Eddie practically hissed the last word before he hopped to his feet and bundled Steve's pumpkin into his arms.

"Unbelievable. We don't need them Steve. Let's go." He popped his nose into the air and looked to Steve. He knew he had to look like a deer in headlights, not sure exactly where they were meant to be going.

"Kitchen." Eddie whispered, giving Steve a wink.

"Oh right. Okay yeah." Steve stumbled toward the door, opening it for Eddie as he stomped after him.

"Oh what you're going inside? Just leaving us out here?" Dustin called, Will and El booing him as he kept taunting Steve and Eddie. Eddie spun, looked at Dustin, propped the pumpkin on his hip like a toddler and pointed his finger accusingly.

"Yes. And we are leaving... in a huff!" Eddie's accent sounded slightly French at the end as he spun around again and stomped into the house.

"Slam the door Steven. Show them we mean it." Eddie said with an air finality. Steve grinned, fighting back laughter, and slammed the door. He tugged the blind closed too, for good measure. He turned to find Eddie wiping at the pumpkin with a wet washrag, getting all the little shavings off.

"You didn't have to do that." Steve said, moving to stand next to him. But not too close.

"Do what?" Eddie asked, grabbing the dish towel off the little hook and drying the pumpkin now. Steve sighed, leaned his butt against the counter and looked at the floor.

"Play it up liked you love the pumpkin. To make me feel better about my complete lack of skill." Steve laughed a little, shrugged, and looked up to find Eddie staring at him. He tossed the towel down and took a step forward.

"Oh no. Unfortunately for you, Steven. That was a genuine reaction. I fucking love this thing." He patted at the side of the pumpkin and grinned at Steve. Steve frowned.

"Really? It's not... I mean it's nothing special. Did you see Will's, I swear there was a castle on it." Steve shook his head. Dismissive.

"Oh I saw it. Still like yours more." Eddie said, matter of fact.

"Why?" Steve was still frowning. Eddie sighed, walked over and stood next to Steve, his arm pressed agaisnt him, warm.

"Me and my mom used to buy four pumpkins. Every Halloween. Always four. Two for her. And two for me." Eddie's voice was soft, the way it always was when he talked about his mother. Steve found himself trying not to breathe to loudly, he wanted to hear everything Eddie had to say.

"We'd each do a classic, spooky guy. But the other one. The other one we used to make just... the most ridiculous faces. Or the dumbest ones. Anything cute and silly." He looked at Steve for a moment, a soft smile on his lips at the memory.

"It very quickly became a contest of who could make who laugh the most. Just by carving some silly face." Eddie shook his head and laughed gently.

"I haven't made a funny one since she died. And you turned that pumpkin around and it took me back. To all those stupid pumpkins and how we used to laugh. And I mean really laugh." Eddie's voice was getting tight as he spoke, a little wobbly, and Steve wanted to hug him, wasn't sure if he could.

"She had the best laugh Steve. She'd have loved this." He moved his hand over the pumpkin again, gently stroked down it's side.

"And you."

It was almost too quiet. Steve almost didn't hear it. Wasn't sure he had until he looked up and saw the way Eddie was looking at him. Steve is so sure that it's the same way he'd been looking at Eddie for months now.

"It's the perfect pumpkin Steve. The best one I've seen in years." He's so serious, when he says it. Steve feels like he might cry. Feels a bit reckless, with Eddie looking at him like that. So he leans toward Eddie, his heart fluttering as Eddie smiles, just a barely thing, and leans toward him too.

The kiss is soft, Eddie makes a little sound in the back of his throat when Steve's hand moves to his neck and pulls him closer. They kiss until they're both smiling so much it's just their teeth clicking together and Eddie dissolves into manic giggles again and buries his face in Steve's neck as he holds him close.

"You have a good laugh too Ed's. " Steve sighs, pulling Eddie closer as he hums and nuzzles into his neck, his fingers pressing into Steve's back as he cuddles closer. Steve breathes deeply, his nose buried in Eddie's hair, and feels Eddie smile against the soft skin of his neck.

-

-

-

( below is an approximation of their pumpkin faces. I fucked up the eddie one's mouth dont looookk at meeeee )

#Halloween blurb #steddie #steddie ficlet #Fates Endless Inkwell #fei #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #mine #my writing #my fic

[yawnderu]

K-9 — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Part II

Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.

1 2 3 4 5

Simon scores a date with his favorite medic

Or

Simon has to be under her watch after getting a knife to the gut.

"Oi, doc." Simon calls out and you sigh softly, gaze drifting from your patient report to him, his unmasked figure lays on the medical bed, gauze wrapped tightly over his abdomen, keeping his newest injury guarded from anything that could rub on or mess up the stitches.

"Why'd they call you K-9?" One of his thin, eyeblack stained eyebrows lifts as he looks at you, already feeling bored from having to stay still for so long, movement limited by the patched up stab wound on his stomach.

"Long story." You dismiss him, looking back down at the patient report you were writing for him. His medical file was interesting, indicating no pictures of him should ever be taken, as well as additional personal and professional information.

"You got surgery in 2020, what's that about?" You didn't notice any bigger scars whenever he was injured, having already seen his naked torso and part of his legs.

"Curious 'bout me, doc?" His tone is slightly teasing, the smug bastard thinking he's funny by asking that. A single eye roll is enough to get him to speak, a deep, gravelly chuckle escaping his lips before he answers.

"Took a nasty gunshot to the leg, was fadin' fast." He lays back down, gaze drifting towards the ceiling as he thinks about it. He was so close to death himself, only three years ago.

"Thought it'd be more interesting." Your bluntness never fails to make him double take. It's not passive aggressive or mean, just... way too honest. More than he's used to.

"I'll get a proper grand injury just for you, lass." You roll your eyes again, taking a sip from your coffee to hide the way the corners of your lips are tugging up. It's amusing, really, to find out how much Simon has changed throughout the years. Price told you he used to be much more quiet, though after 4 years of working with the task force, he was able to open up, getting more and more used to interacting with a team rather than being a lone wolf.

"That's not necessary, I can give it to you myself if you'd like." Your gloved hand presses on the scalpel on your white coat before going back to writing his medical report, tone laced with subtle humor.

"She can joke." He taunts, trying to sit up before a sharp hiss of pain escapes his lips. You frown, the report taking way too long to finish because you keep getting interrupted.

"Hold on." You walk up to him, hands holding onto his strong back before you try to help the behemoth of a man sit up. His calloused hands hold onto your forearms, a few low, deep groans escaping his lips at the strain his flexing muscles are causing to the fresh injury.

"Fuckin' hell." He mutters and you look up, eyes focusing on his pained expression for a second too long. Simon isn't ugly, really, but when his face is all scrunched up in pain, sweat gathering in the form of clear specks all over his eyeblack stained skin? He looks almost majestic. You get your head out of the gutter, placing some soft pillows behind his back to help keep him up without much strain.

"You should be healed up soon enough, got lucky the bastard didn't stab that deep." You shrug, looking back at the tiny coffee maker in your office before you look back up at him, his brown eyes already staring back at you, pupils blown, as usual.

"Want some coffee?" He shakes his head politely, eyes closing in pain as he tries to get into a more comfortable position.

"A cuppa would be nice." You flick his forehead softly, tired eyes drifting towards the clock on the wall. 0100, yet you simply nod and grab your phone from the desk.

"Try not to die while I'm gone." The door closes behind you before he can reply, brown eyes closing as he sighs when you're gone. He doesn't even know how it all started. Simon is a man of discipline, a soldier, a Ghost, yet the way his heart quickens and his cock hardens whenever he's with you is something he can't control, as if a parasite made home in his brain and is using his body as a vessel, ridding him completely of any self-control.

You come back 10 minutes later, a tray with a cup of hot tea and food placed on his lap, the almost comforting warmth quickly spreading through his legs and body.

"Thank you." He moves the spoon around the cup of Earl Grey, letting the sugar mix in for a hot minute before he takes a sip from it, nodding his head once in approval. He was starving, really, but he tried his best to eat slowly, ignoring his hungry stomach begging him to wolf it all down. His eyes drift back to the tray, attention caught by the singular orange left there.

His hands fumble for one of the knives in his clothes, finding all of the straps were removed by you and placed too far away for his injured body to reach. He looks back up at you, admiring you in silence and truly taking you in. The way you lift your glasses every once in a while even before they can slip down the bridge of your nose, the way your hand fiddles with the pen and your lips turn into a small pout whenever you're not sure how to describe something in the report, the way you look so angelic under the dim lights of the infirmary—

"What are you lookin' at?" You don't even bother looking back at him, feeling his stare on you for the past two minutes. He has such an intense gaze that makes you feel as if he can see through your soul, yet it never intimidated you.

"Nothin', bird, nothin'. Peeled you an orange."

[PREVIOUS] [NEXT]

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley #ghost cod #simon riley x you #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x f!reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x female reader #ghost x medic!reader #medic!reader #mw2 ghost #mw2 x reader #mw2 2022 #mw2 fanfic #mw2 141 #call of duty #cod modern warfare #cod #call of duty mw2 #mw3 x reader #Mw3 ghost #ghost

[wonwoonlight]

just one day / yoon jeonghan

⇢ Jeonghan x fem!Reader

⇢ word count: 4.5k

⇢ fluff // angst // nonidol!au // brother's best friend // fake dating!au // they're idiots lmao // not edited nor proofread so pls bear w me lol // cursing and. two? kissing scenes.

⇢ A/N: this has been sitting unfinished in my google drive since... either last year or the beginning of this year lmao. i have always wanted to write brother's best friend and i had this sudden urge to finish it earlier so i did. been some time since i posted a proper fic so, enjoy~

He must be dreaming.

He must be.

“What?” Jeonghan says just for the sake of saying it.

“I like you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You blink at his firm voice, wondering what kind of situation this is. Sure, you shouldn’t be confessing to your brother’s best friend, but you feel like you’ve been obvious enough and you don’t see why you shouldn’t confess when it’s been eating you inside out.

And, yeah, you didn’t expect him to do anything about your confession (or even say that he likes you back), but you didn’t expect this either.

“What do you mean I don’t?” you frown, looking at him accusingly. “I like you.”

“You don’t, kid.” He sighs, already feeling a headache coming. He’s not stupid, alright, he has enough sense to gather that his best friend’s little sister probably has something on him–a crush, perhaps, but he’s never thought it was real enough for you to feel the need to confess.

It doesn’t help that he is attracted to you, has always been since you’ve gone back from Sydney after finishing university a year ago. He admits he’s always thought you’re attractive, and if he’s being honest, he would’ve asked you out first if not for the fact that you’re literally Joshua Hong’s little sister.

As if it’s not enough that not dating his best friend’s little sister has always been a code he follows, Shua has always been a little too protective as a brother. He’s seen firsthand how the guy scared off some who had the guts to flirt with you, seen how for two decades only two guys had ever been declared good enough to date you (he couldn’t do anything about the flings you had when you were abroad, but at least you’ve always been appreciative of his protectiveness and you never missed to inform him of some guys who were actually trying to get it on with you).

Long story short, Jeonghan does not wish to be on the receiving end of Shua’s scrutinizing eyes regardless of how much he’s actually into you.

“Look, you know me,” he starts when he realizes you’re not backing down. He looks away, pretending to be frustrated, though it’s really just because he thinks he’ll relent if he looks into your eyes a second longer. “I’m not gonna make a good boyfriend and I’m literally your brother’s best friend.”

You don’t seem to care about the first part of his sentence, irked by the fact that him being best friend with Shua would be an obstacle in your way. Shouldn’t it be easier for him to get a seal of approval if he’s already close with your brother? But, then again, Shua probably knows Jeonghan inside out and knowing too much is never a good thing.

“So what?” you say anyway, because if there’s any word that would describe you perfectly, it’s ‘stubborn’. “Why does it matter that you’re his best friend?”

Jeonghan sends you a look, and you pout because you actually get what he means. You know Shua, after all, and as much as you want to condition yourself to believe that Jeonghan would be the person Shua approves of with all his heart, you also know that even if your brother actually approves, he would put him through hell just for the fun of it.

Anyway, this doesn’t tell you at all where Jeonghan actually stands about you.

“So, you don’t like me?” you shoot straight to it, as if Jeonghan wouldn’t be able to hear your heart beating like there’s no tomorrow if he takes even one step closer–as if your ears aren’t hot from saying it out loud. Jeonghan does not need to know how flustered you actually are.

And it works, because he seems to be taken aback by your boldness and you try your best to hide a victory grin at that. You should probably be more grateful that he can’t stand to look at you for more than three seconds; if he had, he would’ve seen the tip of your ears turning red and the speck of blush on your face, which means he could’ve easily taken control of the situation and turned it against you.

His silence encourages you, because if he really doesn’t like you then he would tell you so. As much as Jeonghan is a master of tricks and he’s great at acting, he’s never been good at hiding his feelings.

Jeonghan bites his lip, trying to get a way out of this. Why can’t he just say no and be done with it? Sure, he’s not in love with you or anything (yet?), but it’s a straight out lie to say he’s never seen you that way.

After all, there’s a reason why he’s been avoiding you the past few months. 

You just have to be more daring these days, and as much as he wills himself to behave, there are times when he’s already flirting with you before he knows it. He’s just lucky Shua has never caught you two.

Plus, you’ve taken a liking to wearing a crop top and it’s the absolute death of him.

“Tell you what,” you say before he does. “Date me.”

Jeonghan chokes on nothing, violently coughs that his shoulders are shaking and you actually need to pat his back so he’ll calm down.

“Are you okay?” You ask worriedly, and he’s terribly conscious of your hand on his shoulder and the other on his arm, of the way your brows furrow in concern, of the way your lips are a little ajar and if he moves forward just a little–

“Yeah.” He shakes his head despite the word, then clears his throat and squares his shoulders before he looks the other way around. He doesn’t step away though, and it’s so fucking stupid that he frowns when you do. “Sorry. You were saying?”

“Date me.” You repeat anyway, though you know this is Jeonghan’s way of  giving you an out in case you want to pretend like you didn’t just say that earlier. He opens his mouth, and you can hear what he’s going to say even if he hasn’t said anything so you cut him yet again. “Just for one day.”

“Kid–”

“Stop,” you say firmly, something akin to determination flashes through your eyes that he’s actually taken aback. “Stop calling me that.”

He sighs out your name, but you’re not hearing it because if you back down now you know you won’t have it in you to say this out loud again. You’re fueled by nothing but impulse and you’re not going to let Yoon Jeonghan himself slow you down.

“Han, I see the way you look at me–you’ve gone past seeing me as a kid since I came back from Sydney and it’s been a year since then. I’m not stupid.”

It’s hard to describe the way he looks at you, and he’s not blaming you because he is confused. The mixed feelings bursting in his chest is much too complicated for him to explain. Let alone through words, even his consciousness does not know how to register what he’s feeling.

Your face falls at his silence, and whatever courage that drives you up to this point is starting to ebb little by little. You’re so goddamn stupid–did you really think confessing to him would lift the weight off your shoulders? What made you think Jeonghan would be able to treat you as usual after you confessed?

Didn’t you confess only because it’s heaving you down? Because you thought you’d regret it if you stayed silent?

Then what is this weight on your chest? 

What is this disappointment looming all over your body?

Why the fuck are your eyes pricking with tears?

Still, you stand your ground and square yourself up in front of him. You’ve gone this far. If you’re going to be embarrassing, might as well do it for a reason. 

“Okay,” he breaks his silence, his tone defeated for whatever reason. It’s not discouraging though, more like unsure and maybe a little hopeful, and when you look up, he’s biting his lip in contemplation. “Just one day, right?”

“But you have to actually treat me like I’m your girlfriend.” You push, heart beating both in excitement and fear. Because what if he backs out of nowhere? He’s not that kind of person, but this situation is nothing sort of normal and his consciousness just might get to him if you don’t push him already.

Jeonghan bites his lip, looking at you like you’re a bad idea that he’s caving into. And he’s starting to think that it’s true. But if he’s being honest, he’s not against this at all. He also wants to know how it’d feel like to hold your hands and just listen to you talk without thinking about Shua and whatever that will follow if he ever finds out.

Frankly, one day wouldn’t be enough, but that’s better than nothing, right? And he would never have the guts to propose it himself, he admits, so this is a chance that he knows he wouldn’t get his hands on ever again.

He sighs, praying to every god up there that this won’t backfire on him.

“Okay,” he whispers, more to himself than to you, and then repeats it once again, this time firmer, looking at you straight in the eyes. “Shua’s going on a business trip next week, right?”

You nod.

“I’ll see you next Saturday?”

You bite down your lip so hard that you taste blood to stop yourself from smiling like an idiot.

Tuesday, 26 July

[14:32] Yoon Jeonghan😠: beach or amusement park

[14:50] ?????

[14:50] its not a surprise?

[14:54] Yoon Jeonghan😠: just pick one, kid

[14:55] 🙄 beach ig

Thursday, 28 July

[01:11] Yoon Jeonghan😠: festival or night market

[01:12] ?????? sir?? go to sleep??

[01:12] didnt you choose a place alrd???

[01:12] but night market

[01:13] Yoon Jeonghan😠: you go to sleep

Yoon Jeonghan😠 is typing…

…

Yoon Jeonghan😠 is typing…

[01:17] Yoon Jeonghan😠: good night, kid

[01:18] nightttttt

Friday, 29 July

[22:20] Yoon Jeonghan😠: wear something light tomorrow, but bring a jacket just in case it gets cold at night

Saturday, 30 July

[00:03] k, boyfriend 😌

[00:03] sorry, i was on the phone with chaeyoung earlier

[00:07] Yoon Jeonghan😠: i really cant with you

[00:07] Yoon Jeonghan😠: and chaeyoung as in vernon’s cousin? your friend from high school?

[00:07] Yoon Jeonghan😠: you still talk to her?

[00:08] yes!! surprised that u rmb her :0

[00:08] and i actually just met her by accident earlier today and we decided to catch up thru the phone bc i had to go somewhere

[00:09] apparently, she’s dating choi seungcheol or smth 👀

Incoming call from Yoon Jeonghan😠 - 00:11

Call ended - 02:27

[02:27] Yoon Jeonghan😠: you fell asleep. night, babe 🤪 see you

You bite your lip in giddiness as you keep on rereading Jeonghan’s text, like you’re not giddy enough already at the prospect of today.

You fell asleep last night while on the phone with Jeonghan, but whatever curse you were about to dump into yourself for falling asleep during what might be your only chance to be on the phone with Jeonghan during ungodly hours was immediately wiped out when you saw his text.

Yes, you’d flirt with each other from time to time–but never through texts, and the prospect of having a message from him that you can read over and over again some time in the future is both delightful and… sad.

The sudden tug on your heart and consciousness is a little heavy, a reminder that he’s doing that because you asked him to. That whatever’s happening in the span of today is an illusion, one that Jeonghan agrees on creating.

Why, you don’t want to dwell on it too much.

That should be your motto for the day: fuck it.

So what if it was an illusion? Jeonghan agreed and you’re going to make the best out of it. If you’re never going to be Jeonghan’s girlfriend, might as well be shameless and live your teenage (and adult, if you’re being honest) dream and be his girlfriend for the day now so you can stamp it in your memory. You only have today and you’re not going to spend any second thinking about the technicality of it.

As far as you know, Jeonghan is your boyfriend and he’s taking you out for the day.

You jump when your phone pings, the notification on your lockscreen rids you of whatever negativity that was in your mind literally seconds ago as you grin and make your way out of your apartment.

[09:17] Yoon Jeonghan😠: am in the lobby. get ur pretty self here, angel.

For all you know, the world is plenty unfair. But seeing Jeonghan looking like that with a simple white tee and a faded pair of jeans reminds you just how unfair the world actually is. Like it’s not unfair enough already because he’s not your actual boyfriend.

“Come on, let me take a picture of you,” he says as he softly takes your hand, pulling you up from the mat. “The wind isn’t too strong and you’re looking particularly pretty today.”

You scrunch your nose as you mock annoyance, a failed attempt to mask your blush. Hopefully, Jeonghan would think you’re simply flushed because of the sun and not because of him.

“I don’t like taking pictures.”

“How dare you lie to me.” Jeonghan says without missing a beat. “I know you make Shua take a ton shit pictures of you when you’re out somewhere.”

You pout at this, and as much as you know Jeonghan doesn’t mean anything by it, the mention of your brother isn’t exactly welcome today because his name just reminds you that this isn’t real and he’s a big part of the reason why.

“Can you not talk about my brother?” You say softly, which Jeonghan easily catches even if he’s not sure you mean for him to hear or not. The sadness in your voice is genuine though, and he makes a mental note to stop mentioning Joshua for the rest of the day. He’s starting to question once again if this is the right thing to do even for a day–after all, Joshua is his best friend, and this particular conversation is the exact reason why he’s not supposed to do this.

But he’s promised you he’ll treat you like his girlfriend–perhaps another personal agenda of his because he does want to experience being able to be your boyfriend even for a day. He should’ve thought more before okay-ing your proposal instead of thinking about it right now when you’re in front of him, in a simple white shirt and a black skirt that stops just below the middle of your thigh but somehow still the prettiest he’s ever seen. 

He wonders if this is how you usually dress up for your dates, and something bitter makes it to the tip of his tongue as he thinks about someone else taking you on a date. 

“Sorry. Come on, let’s take a picture together.” His fingers wrap around your wrist to pull you closer before eventually linking them with yours. “You’re very pretty today, have I told you?”

“You have.” You scrunch your nose and pretend to roll your eyes at the sudden sweetness he basks you in even though you’re liking every second of it. “Literally one minute ago.”

“Well, you really do look very beautiful and I want you to know.” He lowers his voice an octave and stares right into your eyes before he eventually bursts out laughing.

“Stop!” You giggle, knowing that he’s doing this on purpose to annoy you. “That’s too fucking cheesy and you know it.”

He laughs along with you, then tightens his fingers in yours like they’re not interlocked already.

“I mean it though.” He whispers one last time, not looking at you this time around because his heart might fucking burst to say it to your face without the faux of messing with you. “You do look beautiful.”

At least you share the sentiment, as you quietly duck your head to hide your smile, whispering a thanks that’s only meant for the two of you.

Jeonghan keeps his end of the bargain, you’re happy to know, as you don’t even think about your brother and the pretense that is your relationship for the rest of the day. You freely flirt with each other, cheeky smile and winks being thrown here and there. His hands never seem to leave you, and you gladly cling on to him even if you don’t need to.

You get ice cream, insist that you want the plain strawberry one only to eventually switch with Jeonghan’s cookies and creams because his looks better. He plays hard to get before giving in to you, but not before swiping ice cream from the side of your lips and licks his thumb like that shit isn’t going to give you a heart attack.

It’s around seven when you both get to the night market not too far from the beach, and you’re both even gigglier than earlier which you didn’t think was possible. Your cheeks hurt from smiling, but you’re the furthest thing from complaining as you continue at whatever dumb jokes Jeonghan throws your way.

The night market isn’t as crowded as you think it would be, but it still is crowded and Jeonghan makes a show of throwing his arm around your shoulder because he ‘doesn’t want to lose you’ and you seem a little cold (which you kinda are).

You elbow him at this, shake your head and pretend like you’re not internally dying from the closeness between the two of you.

“That’s so lame.” You snicker. “Just say you want me close and go.”

“I do want you close.” He whispers unexpectedly, catching you entirely off guard that you trip on your own foot you almost fall on your face. He doesn’t seem to realize you tripped because you’re flustered, which works good for you, and he flicks your forehead as he scolds you to be more careful and goes back to holding your hand.

“Seriously. How are you still so clumsy?”

You don’t like being reprimanded by Jeonghan, because it awfully reminds you that you’re younger than him–that you’re his best friend’s little sister. And as much as you know Jeonghan definitely does not see you as a sister, the implication that he has to see you as one because of the association is very disheartening. 

“Why are you frowning?” He copies the gesture, and you shake your head, telling him it’s nothing. The night is ending, and you don’t want to waste more time thinking about stuff that you can think of tomorrow when you’re not in a time limited relationship with Yoon Jeonghan. “No, tell me–”

“Jeonghan?”

The both of you turn at the call of his name, and your frown deepens as you see Jisoo in front of you, Jeonghan’s ex that he amicably broke up with. The one ex that has always made you feel like shit because she’s everything you’re not and they were such a picture perfect couple that you’re sure they’d go back together someday.

It does not feel good to see her today of all days.

“Oh, hi!” She kindly greets you, her smile way too genuine for you to think she’s just being polite and secretly hates you inside. Gosh. You need to stop watching too many TV dramas. “Joshua’s sister… right?”

There it is again. The reminder that you’re his sister–something you really don’t need to hear today.

“Hi.” You smile awkwardly, and only then remember your hand is still pretty much joined with Jeonghan’s. You don't know how to feel about the fact that his reflex is not to let go of your hand in front of his ex who obviously knows your brother. You try to let go of his hand, but Jeonghan holds on tighter, as if telling you it’s okay and there’s no need to worry about Jisoo.

They share a small chat for a bit before eventually parting, and Jisoo wishes you both a good night, which makes you hate yourself so much for being jealous of the girl when she doesn’t even have an ounce of bad energy towards you.

You try to enjoy the rest of the night, but Jisoo’s appearance just reminds you that this whole thing is pretty much fake. That someone out there is going to be in your place for real–able to hold his hand and just be with him all the time without having to wait for your brother to go on a business trip to even hang out with each other. Without some stupid request and guilt eating them inside out because they’re not supposed to do this.

Trying to be subtle, you put on an act of wanting to visit every stall in the festival and pretend to be tired after about thirty minutes or so. You’re surprised Jeonghan isn’t already tired to begin with, this guy has the battery of a five-years-old phone, you didn’t expect him to actually bring you around until night if you’re being completely honest.

Jeonghan complies when you tell him you’re ready to go home, and you don’t even realize he’s also being weirdly quiet because you’re too deep in your thoughts. And it’s once his car is parked on the parking lot of your apartment building that you finally open your mouth trying to say something–anything.

You want to thank him for today. To thank him for making a memory that you’ll dearly hold on to, for giving you a standard of what a boyfriend is supposed to be even for a day. For fulfilling your dumb request when he doesn’t even have to.

But what comes out of your mouth is something entirely different and you almost want to bash your head against the door of his car right after.

“Whoever’s going to be your girlfriend is very lucky.”

You can hear Jeonghan takes a sharp breath, and you bite your lip to stop yourself from crying because you’re just so fucking stupid like that.

You try to remind yourself that you asked for this. That Jeonghan is doing you a favour and owes you nothing. That you should be thankful you’ve even gotten the chance to play girlfriend with him when he could’ve just embarrassed you and walked away after your proposal.

The deafening silence inside the car is very loud, and you feel like you’re suffocated by things unseen that you just want to get out of the car and take a very deep breath. So you do just that: reach for the door of his car because you can’t take being so close to him anymore.

It’s your fault. You shouldn’t have asked for this. Shouldn’t have asked for a taste of heaven because surely you would want more and you’ll die of thirst right after. Now you’re just going to be awkward with him until god knows when and you’re regretting it already. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You should’ve been satisfied with your close friendship with him, with loving him from afar. Now you’ve ruined things between you and him and who knows when things will get back to normal? He’ll fucking think of you as pathetic and it’s just going to be pity in his eyes everytime he looks at you now.

“Hey!” Jeonghan jumps in alert the moment you step out of his car, quickly follows through and catches you before you take another step away from him. “What–why are you in such a hurry?”

You look down to your shoes, because you can’t stomach looking at him right now just in case you’ll see what you fear will be reflected in his eyes.

“Hey… Look at me?” He tries once again, tone getting a little helpless. But you shake your head, because you’re sure you’ll start crying if you do and you want to preserve the little dignity you still have in front of him. But Jeonghan doesn’t stop there, he whispers a ‘please?’ and lifts your chin gently so you’ll look at him, his heart breaking when he sees how close you are to tears and his throat closing at how he’s the reason behind all this.

“Thank you.” You brave yourself. It’s the least you can do, because as much as you’re going to grovel for the next few months, you know that this particular memory with Jeonghan will always be dear to your heart and you’ll treasure it forever. “I’m sorry for taking your time and–”

“Ah, fuck it.” You hear him say before he dives into your lips, not minding the way you’re frozen in place out of shock. He hums against your lips, and it’s then that you finally kiss him back, your hands settle over his shoulders and your whole body relaxed under his touch.

When the both of you pull away, you’re a little out of breath and your thoughts all over the place. But there’s a small smile in Jeonghan’s face that gets you mirroring the gesture. He closes his eyes as he places his forehead on yours, and you follow suit, feeling the warmth of his breath on your face.

“It’s… okay for me to do that, right?” He asks, albeit a little too late. You still don’t know what the whole things mean, but you find yourself chuckling, because you honestly would let him do anything to you. But he doesn’t need to know the kind of power he has over you, so you simply nod and let him have his peace.

“Han?” You say after a while. “What does this mean for us?”

Jeonghan stares into your eyes, deep in his own thoughts as if he’s trying to rearrange his words so they don’t stumble out of his mouth like a trainwreck.

“Let’s see where this takes us?”

“But Shua…?”

He presses his lips together and wraps his arms around you, pushing you into his neck as he breathes in your scent.

“Whatever happens, happens.” He decides, already resigning that he can’t possibly let you go now that he knows how it feels like to have you like this. He’ll make your brother understand somehow, but right now, he wants to be with you and savors the little time he has with you before your brother comes back, not even minding the way his phone has been vibrating in his pocket.

[Joshua sent a picture.]

Joshua: heard from Jisoo you’re on a date w my sister??????????????????

Joshua: did you finally get out of your ass and stop being in denial lmaoooooooooooooo

Joshua: just pls be safe

Joshua: she’s still my sister

Joshua: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved. I don’t allow any reposting, translation, and any other kind of redistribution of this fic. Please tell me if you’re aware of anyone doing this without my permission.

#jeonghan angst #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan fic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen au #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan imagines #khione.fics #jeonghan au #seventeen scenario #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #jeonghan oneshot #seventeen oneshot

[starry-bi-sky]

fast food is the best course of action after causing a scene. ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀɴʏᴀʟ ᴀʟ ɢʜᴜʟ ᴀᴜ

(First Post Here and Second Post Here

--------

Danny finds Sam easily.

She's right where she said she was over the phone: standing outside on a balcony, in Gotham, at Father's many charity functions. 

("Would you still be willing to fly over to Gotham, Danny?" She asks, her voice ringing clear through the speakers. Danny is already climbing out his window before she even finishes her sentence. He was just about to settle down for the night, his ghosts would know better by now than to disturb him at this time. The Box Ghost not included.)

("Of course." He says, sounding more confident than he feels. Sam was one of his best— closest friends, he would do anything she or Tucker asked. Even if it means stepping foot into his Father's city. He drops down silently, and walks through the house's ghost shield. "Would you like me to bring you anything?")

(Sam sighs through the phone, relief leaking through. "One of the veggie burgers from Nasty Burgers would be great, with their new ecto-fries. Extra salt. I'm sick of all this rich people food.")

(A small smile pulls across Danny's face, tilting at the corner as his living form falls away to his ghost self. "Alright," he says, and kicks himself off the ground, "I'll be there in a few minutes.")

("Thanks, Danny.")

He had the bag of food with him, stored in a container he had to run back to the house to get that would prevent the food from cooling during his flight over. Clutching it in hand, he floats down behind Sam and sheds his invisibility.

Being visible and being invisible always felt different, but in a way Danny can never describe, no matter how many times he tries to think about it. It's like a gut-feeling, a sixth sense, he always knows when he's visible and when he is not.

His ghost form burns away like steel wool being lit, and Danny drops the last foot to the ground silently. In his other hand lies his thermos, but filled with plain ectoplasm — lazarus water. "I have your food." 

(He brought the thermos for himself — his side was still healing from his last fight with Technus. The ghost impaled him with a broken pipe, and Danny returned the favor by wedging his sword into his chest. Technus had been quite offended by him ruining his favorite coat.)

Sam jumps a foot into the air, and her hand slams across her mouth to muffle the shriek she lets out as she whirls around. "Danny!" She hisses, her voice rising in pitch, and her eyes narrow at him into a glare. "Freaking-- Tucker's right, we seriously need to put a bell on you."

"You have been saying that for years," Danny grins, sharp-toothed and jack-knifed, and passes the container over to her. "And yet I've yet to see any kind of bell." He was going to start getting disappointed at this rate.

As Sam takes the container, Danny hops up onto the railing and looks around. He hadn't seen any of Father's other children lurking around the building before he revealed himself, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. He wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that their stealth skills were poor.

He wasn't that arrogant.

...Anymore.

"Oh you will." Sam threatens, unzipping the container and grabbing the takeout bag. "I'll get you a collar and everything, we can start calling you Catwoman." When she pulls out her fries, Danny snaps forward and steals one from the box, ignoring her indignant yell as he pops it into his mouth.

"I spent my own money on these fries, Sam." He sniffs, leaning away from her with a stifled huff of laughter as she swats at him. "So they are technically my fries. And also, Catwoman would be a poor thief if she wore a bell."

Sam grumbles at him, and takes a bite out of a handful of fries. "I'll venmo you money." She says past a mouthful of food, Danny would have been disgusted in the past, when he was still new. But he's gotten used to this... normality. So he makes no reaction to it. "How does three hundred bucks sound?"

Danny immediately frowns.

"Did you have a fight with your parents?" He asks, eyes glancing to the doors. Doors that are covered heavily by curtains and blurred heavily, decadent music passing through in muffled sounds. He shifts himself away from the light. "You only spend that much money when they've pissed you off."

Sam's chewing stops, and her annoyed expression falters into one Danny knows well -- hurt, furrowed brows, a small frown, disappointment -- and she turns her head away from him. She swallows. "Yeah." she says, quiet.

Oh.

Danny knows that tone too.

Guilt settles like a rock in his chest. He leans forward, "Was it about me again?" He wasn't blind to the disdain Sam's parents had for him, far from it. This wasn't the first time Sam had gotten into a fight with them over her friendship with him and Tucker. But especially him. He unsettled people, even after years of observing his age-mates and trying to mimic their behavior, and anyone who knew him in middle school knew it was an act.  

Sam's silence gives him all the confirmation he needs, and the guilt heavies itself with the weight of the sky. Danny's never much cared about others' opinions of him -- he is (was?) an Al Ghul, they never heed to mind what the weight of a simpleton's thoughts.

But.. he cares a little a lot when it hurts his friends like this. He presses his lips together into a thin line, and forces the words out through his teeth. It sounds robotic. Al Ghul's do not apologize. "I... am sorry." But this one does. It doesn’t come easy. 

Sam sighs through her nose, and turns to roll her eyes at him. "Don't apologize on their behalf when you won't even apologize for your own; their assholes." She says, and goes reaching for more fries.

It's a sign, a signal. A silent word for the conversation to move on, to change. A distraction. Danny grasps it with both hands, and makes an offended noise in the back of his throat. And like he has learned, puts a hand to his chest like a scandalized American southern lady. "I apologize! I apologize plenty."

She snorts. "Only when you think it matters." And pokes him in the ribs sharply with her fry. He withholds a wince and snatches it out of her hands. "You're about as unapologetic as they come, Danny J. Fenton. I've seen you look more sincere when you're trying to drive your sword between Vlad's ribs."

"Stabbing Masters is a very important task for me, Sam." Danny says in only partially faux-seriousness. Masters has yet to realize that Danny had no interest in becoming his son, but he had to (reluctantly) admire his persistence. "Of course I will apply myself to it as best as I can."

He grins triumphantly when Sam laughs, and she reaches over to shove him square in the chest. He barks out a laugh of his own as he grips onto the balcony railing and catches himself at an angle.

"Quit with your method actor talk," Sam retorts, grinning sharply while Danny twists himself back up elegantly. "I know you can talk like a normal person, I've literally seen you do it."

Danny sniffs, and snatches more fries from the carton as revenge. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean, Miss Sam." He says, grin-twisting when Sam rolls her eyes. "My speech has always been this way. This 'normal' you speak of, I do not know it."

She waves her hand dismissively at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. But if you keep talking like that, I'm pushing you off the balcony."

"Such violence, Sam."

He gets a laugh again, full of disbelief without any of the annoyance. "I'm gonna be the one that stabs you, oh my god. Pot meet kettle." She looks at him again, smiling.

Danny smiles back, and with a flick of his wrist pulls out a kunai from his sleeve. It was one of the few weapons Mother was able to pass on to him whenever she made her scarce visits. He cherishes it well, along with anything else she was capable of giving him. 

He holds the handle out to her, and watches her face shift from disbelief to shock, then back to disbelief. "Then you're gonna need a weapon to do that." 

"Of course you have a pointy object on you." She mutters, and takes the kunai and puts it in her purse. Danny makes a pleased hum, it resonates low in his core, and drops his hand. "When do you not have a pointy object on you?"

As if to make her point, Danny's hands twist near his side, and he holds his palms up to her, revealing the shobo he had also hidden on him. He gives her a shit-eating grin. "Never." He lowers his hand, and pockets the small weapon once again. 

Sam huffs, "Of course," she repeats, "thanks. I was gonna bring a knife but..."

Danny finishes the sentence for her, kicking his feet idly and knowingly. "The security at the door?" He'd seen them on his flight over the building. It wouldn't do much in the face of the Rogues, but at least they were good at keeping appearances and keeping out the smaller threats.

He rolls his eyes and turns his head away, looking up to the ugly, smog-covered skies. There was no bat signal in the air, and while that was a good thing, Danny almost wished there was. He wanted to see it. "I saw, and I would’ve called Father foolish if he hadn’t hired help. He attracts trouble almost as badly as I do."

"Maybe it's hereditary," Sam jokes, laughing under her breath. With her fries finished, she started on her veggie burger. "At least your dad isn't a vigilante like you are."

Danny smiles wryly. It felt nice to be able to talk more freely about this. That he didn't have to hide the fact that his father was Bruce Wayne, now that Sam knew it from her own accord. Maybe he could have conversations like these more often. Even if it was limited to Bruce Wayne only.

(Even if it felt a little terrifying to know that his father was so close by, close enough that Danny could reach out and touch him. To speak to him. But how would he explain that? And with an audience?)

(He’s wanted to see him since he was a kid, and he still does. It clings onto him like a cough that doesn’t go away after the cold already has, and while it has faded over the years, it clings. His mother’s words still ring in his ears however; it’s not safe. It’s not safe.)

(And isn’t that why he faked his death in the first place? So that his little brother would be safe? Why he gave up the heirship, his home, his Mother, Damian, and his chance to meet his Father? Going to see Father, even now, would be throwing that all away. He has to stay away.)

(Why is Damian with Father if staying with Father was unsafe?) 

He just needed to tell Tucker. Danny wouldn’t keep him out of the loop, he was just as much as his friend as Sam was. His eyes draw towards the door, where the golden glow of lights was still pouring through, where music was playing loudly. "Yeah, fortunately." 

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, and Danny finally cracks open his thermos. The pipe Technus impaled him with was covered in a goo that Danny didn’t recognize, but whatever it was, his injury was taking its time healing. The ectoplasm was speeding it up. 

He isn’t sure what the difference between the ectoplasm that Drs. Fenton collected and Grandfather’s Lazarus pools is, but there’s a difference. He swirls the thermos slowly, watching as the ectoplasm inside twists into a small whirlpool sluggishly. 

When left alone, it thickens into a consistency similar to egg whites, or perhaps a thick smoothie, but reverts back into a water-like substance when moved and swirled. It was strange; unexplainable. He can understand, to an extent, why the Drs. Fenton are so obsessed with studying it and the dimension it comes from. 

Sam watches him idly as he brings the thermos to his lips and drinks from it. The effect is instantaneous, a sense of relief washing over Danny as if someone had put a soothing balm onto an injury. It buzzes down to his fingertips, and when he lowers the thermos, he licks his lips and watches the tips of his fingers burn green like frostbite. 

“Your hair turned white again.” Sam comments, her hand reaching out and touching the hair on the nape of his neck. While it’s not the first time Sam’s touched his hair, it still makes him tense up with her hand so close to his throat. Instinct. dan

He ignores the urge to bat her hand away, humming thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed it does that.” He says, pulling down his bangs to see if they’ve also turned white. No, still black. He lets go. “Let me guess; my eyes are green too?” He lifts the thermos again and peers into the chrome casing. 

Sam nods, “Yep, but it’s only the, uh.” She makes a circle around her eyes with her finger. “The iris part. Everything else is fine.” 

Danny can see that. The faint reflection on the chrome casts back an intense green. He takes another sip. It chills the back of his teeth, and he can feel his canines warp and sharpen. He runs his tongue over them, and swallows. 

Sam is still watching him, her fingers drumming against the balcony railing. “What’s it taste like?” 

“Carbonated.” He says dryly, before taking a large swig. He couldn’t name a specific flavor if he tried, it changed every time he took a sip. The only thing that stayed consistent was that it tasted carbonated. And slightly sweet. When he pulls the thermos away, Danny twists his body towards her and offers it out, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Want to try?” 

Her reaction is immediate. Sam’s nose scrunches up and her mouth twists into a smile, and she makes a huffing-laugh sound. “No, thank you.” She pushes it away lightly with her fingers, “I don’t know how to explain to my parents why my hair is white.” 

Right. Danny pulls the thermos away and puts it down beside him, straining his eyes to see if the rest of his hair has changed colors. Even just his first sip would take half an hour to fade back to its normal black, and he was a halfa. He had no idea how long it’d take to fade on Sam, who was human. 

There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and Danny snaps his head towards the source. There’s a figure, small, a boy, trying to hide behind one of the curtains at the door. His form just barely peeking out from the angle Danny was sitting at. He wouldn’t have seen him if the boy hadn’t moved. 

His fingers curl tightly into the railing, and he breathes in sharp. Sam’s smile crumbles away and she turns to see what he’s looking at. “I should go.” He says, and reaches for his thermos. “There’s someone spying on us. Don’t say anything, just look at me.” 

Sam’s expression warps, twists. Her eyes widen, her jaw starts to drop before fixing itself into place, and her shoulders curl up and tense. She forces it all to smooth over, and she leans casually against the railing. There’s a tick in her jaw. “I see.” Her voice comes through teeth. “Do you think they saw you?”

“I am not sure.” Danny says. He keeps an eye on the figure as he twists himself over and grabs the Nasty Burger bag and the container. He tries not to look like he’s rushing. He is. How long has that boy been there? How much did he see? Did he hear anything? 

“Father, fortunately, has privacy films on the glass. Nobody should have seen me unless they’re specifically trying to peep through the door.” He says. The boy seems to realize that Danny was starting to leave. And, his heart beginning to sink, instead of leaving, moves to grab the door handle instead.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

Danny’s breath catches in his throat, he’s hoping that isn’t who he think it is. But how else would he have not noticed an eavesdropper on their conversation unless it was someone who was capable of bypassing those skills? He told himself that he wouldn’t fool himself into thinking that his siblings’ had poor stealth. He got distracted. 

Five years, five years. He refuses to let that go down the drain. He zips up the container and throws his legs over the other side of the railing, his back facing the door. He hears the doorknob click, and without a word to Sam, slips off down the side and down to the ground below.

Just in time. The once muffled music now sounds blaring as the door presumably is thrown open and the pull of invisibility washes over him like a second skin. He doesn't stay to see who it is.

#dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpdc #dpxdc crossover #danyal al ghul au #older brother danny #first danny pov of the au! whoo! #danny's hair turns white if he drinks ectoplasm brrrrr and his eyes turn green. good for him #this sat in my drafts for the last few days until i finally finished it during class #it was a math class and i already knew the material so tis fiiiine. now i just need to finish my CFAU post rewrite :) #ectoplasm tastes like that time i went to go get pepsi from the soda machine and it was all out of the pepsi flavoring so instead i got a #cup full of carbonated liquid. it was disgusting. ectoplasm kinda tastes like that. sometimes. #danny smiles in this more than i thought he would but yk it fits. he IS more smiley around his friends and family. #ectoplasm is a weird non-newtonion fluid and danny is fascinated. its got the consistency of egg whites one minute and then water the next #its a water slime and then suddenly its as brittle as annealed glass. it heats up and rots like milk or it heats up and boils like water #it congeals. it thickens. it boils. it solidifies. it does whatever it wants. it gels and melts into a tar-like substance #how long has damian been standing there? good question. :) i almost had him open the door and make eye contact with damian before falling #backwards. i also almost had it be *bruce* and damian opening the door bc bruce found out that damian pulled a knife on sam and was gonna #have him come apologize. that would be a fun scene. prolonged eye contact prolonged eye contact prolonged eye contact #imagery brrrr. had fun playing with how danny's ghost form works. if anyone has seen a video of steel wool burning thats how i imagine #danny's ghost transformation to be like. #also ayyy balancing danny's dialogue be like “how fancy should he sound and how Normal Teenager Should He Sound” #when sam gets home she catches tucker up to speed about everything including the convos with the waynes she had and they both form the #'“Fuck Them Waynes” squad. Sam has jumped to the entirely wrong conclusion about danny's separation from his family but in her defense. #it is a pretty sound conclusion to jump to considering the lack of context she has from danny's prior home life. which is almost none at al #so to her it looks like danny got abandoned by bruce wayne

[sundrop-writes]

Officially announcing my new series: Careful.

A limited multi-chapter series with Spencer Reid and Fem Reader, featuring angst, smut, and the trope of exes to lovers where Spencer finds out that he is a father four years after you have given birth to his child.

'When you and Spencer broke up, he tried to forget about you. He pushed all of those feelings for you down - until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being hunted by a man who kills single mothers.'

The series will be approximately 40k long in total (spread across six chapters) and will be posted every Friday, starting on March 8th, 2024, and continuing until ending on April 12th, 2024.

THE FIRST CHAPTER IS NOW POSTED!!!

(I am making a posting schedule, and I am gonna try really, really hard to stick to it this time guys.)

The series is already finished in my drafts - it just needs to be edited before posting. However, comments and encouragement are highly appreciated and welcomed throughout this process. The fic will not have a taglist (taglists are not something I do) - if you enjoy the concept or the preview below and you want to know when future chapters are coming out, then you will simply have to follow me here and turn on notifications for this blog, or you can find me on AO3 and subscribe to me there to get emails when this series and it's future chapters are posted.

Below is a short preview of the fic - so if you want to get a better sense of what the fic is about, click through and read it, and hopefully, you will enjoy.

Preview Word Count: 1,800

Warnings: typical Criminal Minds episode warnings; mentions of murder/killing; the reader character is being targeted by a killer and doesn't know it yet; the reader has a young child (a four year old son); the reader is a cis woman who uses she/her pronouns and a has a vagina; emotional angst between Spencer and the reader; the reader and Spencer had a romantic relationship around season 1/season 2 and this is meant to take place around season 6(ish) but you can picture any later version of Spencer you want; the reason that the reader and Spencer broke up is purposefully vague here but it will be fully revealed in the full story; the reader purposefully kept the pregnancy/Spencer's child away from him; Spencer didn't know he had a child out there in the world; there is some smut in this - unprotected penetration (a flashback to how the baby got here); possibly something that could be labelled as a breeding kink; making love/intense passionate sex; I believe that's in for this short part.

...

The team found themselves buried in paper, looking through the preschool applications for anyone who fit the UnSub’s victimology - praying that they would be able to pick out the next victim and get to her before the UnSub did. 

“We’re never gonna get through these fast enough, are we?” Prentiss sighed, continuing to sift through the papers. 

“We just have to go as fast as we can, and hope the UnSub sticks to his schedule.” Morgan replied. “He has to spend time stalking them, learning their routine. Even if he has chosen his victim by now, he won’t break into the home until he’s fully confident that he won’t be disrupted.” 

“And the stalking helps build up the fantasy.” Reid added on. “He romanticizes them from afar, sends them gifts. It adds to his delusions of grandeur and forbidden love. The idea that he’s swooping in to become the perfect father figure for these ‘broken’ families.” 

“Plus, most of these applications are from two-parent households.” JJ pointed out. “We can throw out anything with a second applicant on the form, because he’s only targeting single mothers.” 

The conversation was easily drowned out for Spencer when he saw it. 

It should have been just another page among the sea in his hands, but when he saw those words on the page - that name - it was like a punch to the gut that brought back a flood of memories he thought that he had locked away forever. 

It was you. 

What the hell were you doing applying for preschools? 

Spencer rushed to tear this paper out from the others in the stack in order to read it more carefully. 

You had a son. 

… 

When you answered the knock on your door, you were entirely lost for words, your mouth going numb from shock when you saw him. 

The last thing you were expecting was to find Spencer Reid on your doorstep. 

Your heart raced inside your chest, your body so overwhelmed so quickly that you couldn’t even decide on an emotion. 

Happiness. Joy. Lust. Longing. Sadness. Relief. 

Shock. 

You lingered on shock for a while as you stared at him, your eyes locked on the sight of him - wondering what the hell he was doing standing on your porch. How did he know where you lived? Why was he here? 

“Y/N,” 

He said your name in that honey-sweet way, and it brought you rocketing back to that awful night all those years ago. Your stomach dropped, and you felt like you were standing in that apartment all over again, tears in your eyes as you faced down the crashing reality that the best relationship you ever had in your life was over. 

This brought on a whole new wave of confusing emotions. 

Anger. Rage. Sadness. Bitterness. Regret. 

Like your brain was a spin-wheel, it whirled around for a few hectic moments, and then - you landed somewhere between anger and pure rage. 

And that was when you finally spoke. 

“Spencer Reid.” You hissed out his name like it was pure venom - immediately, Spencer’s features fell from looking at you with nostalgic fondness, and dropped out to fear. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

Spencer opened his mouth, seemingly to answer this question, and the rage pumped harder in your system. You found that you didn’t want to hear whatever it was that he had to say. 

You stepped through the door, easily stepping into his personal space as you came onto the porch, and you gave him a hard shove in the middle of his chest as you spoke your next words - much louder than you intended. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” 

You screeched, your emotions carrying your actions before any sense of logic or common decency could kick in. It was emotion that you had locked away four years ago - and apparently, it had been aging like wine, only becoming more potent with time. 

“You think that you can just magically show up in my life again after I specifically told you not to contact me?” You added on with a howl. “Do you think that order has a fucking expiration date on it?” 

You gave him another hard shove - perhaps expecting to prompt an answer out of him, or wanting to shove him off the porch entirely and get him out of your life once again. Which of those it was, you weren’t even sure. 

“You better have a good fucking reason for showing up here!” You screeched, your voice becoming so loud that it wore out your throat. 

“Look, Y/N, I-” He stuttered out. 

“Don’t say my name.” You hissed, cutting him off. “Don’t say my name like we’re friends.” 

You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest, and Spencer shoved his hands into his pockets, now finding himself utterly speechless. 

He definitely was not expecting this kind of reception. 

… 

You hadn’t taken the news that you were potentially being hunted by a serial killer very well. 

Although, strangely enough, that wasn’t even close to being the hot topic when JJ and Spencer got back in the car, watching you pull out of your driveway to attend to something you said was entirely urgent. 

“What the hell happened between the two of you?” JJ asked, the question finally unleashing from her lips. 

“It’s complicated.” Spencer huffed out in reply. 

…

Eventually - you did sit down and talk things out with Spencer, calmly. 

He had a lot of questions, and you tried your best to answer them. 

“Can I ask you one more thing?” Spencer asked when it came to the forefront of his mind. 

“Sure,” You sighed. “I think we have a few more minutes before you have to go.” 

“When did you find out that you were pregnant?” He asked. “Was it - was it before? Or after?” 

“After.” You told him. “It - it was about two weeks after. When I took one of those at home tests. And I had already made up my mind that I never wanted to see you again. So just - then and there, I decided that I was gonna raise the kid alone.” 

“So - so do you know when-?” Spencer began, and you cut him off. 

You already knew what he was going to say. 

‘Do you know when he was conceived?’ 

“No.” You rushed to say. 

But it was a lie. You knew. 

You felt like you couldn’t tell him the truth about this. If there was one thing you couldn’t afford to do right now, with Spencer Reid sitting at your kitchen table, staring at you with his big, inquisitive, glossy eyes, licking his lips, with his firm jaw set tight in contemplation - you couldn’t afford to go reminiscing with him about the night your son had been conceived. 

You had spent a lot of time during your pregnancy thinking. Doing the math. Trying to remember. 

And you knew exactly when. 

The night was so vivid in your mind. 

… 

He captured your lips in a smooth, knowing, passionate kiss - you didn’t hesitate to moan into his mouth, and Spencer echoed it right back. He had missed you so much during the day; even though he had seen you less than forty-eight hours before this, he felt decades of yearning in his heart. 

When he felt the bare head of his cock bump up against your entrance, smearing your wetness over him, he moaned even harder against your mouth. He pulled away from the kiss with a huff, moving his hand to your hip then as he asked a very important question. 

“Do you have a condom?” 

It broached the front of his mind, then, that he hadn’t brought one with him. 

“You don’t need one.” You breathed out in reply, combing your hand through his hair, raking your nails across his scalp in a way that made his hips unconsciously buck forward. 

When he felt more of that warm wetness smear across him, his cock just barely dipping into your heat - he didn’t entirely care to decipher the meaning behind your words. He simply trusted you. 

“Please, Spencer.” You begged quietly. “I need you. Just you.” 

(Later, when he was looking back on it, he would have guessed that you meant you were taking your oral birth control consistently. But looking back on it now - it was the only time within those last months of your relationship that the two of you didn’t use a condom. You were urging him on, and maybe, at the time - a baby truly was what you had in mind.) 

He wasn’t one to deny you anyway. And he certainly wasn’t going to deny himself of this. 

He reached down and used a hand around the base of his cock to help line himself up, and gently guided the length of his cock into you. 

This was always his favorite part. 

The gasp - the lilting moan you let out when his cock first slid into you, the way your thighs flexed around his hips - it was all so perfect. But it was even more perfect without the barrier of a condom in the way. 

It was perfect. It was so easy; it all came so naturally between the two of you. It was a perfect rhythm between your bodies that came from knowing each other so well, feeling so at ease with each other. 

It wasn’t just out of the visceral need to have him inside of you; it was the pure yearning to feel close to him, to have him as physically close as possible. 

With you, so tight and beautiful around him - he didn’t last. He couldn’t. 

“Y/N.” He warbled out your name, almost as a warning. 

“It’s okay.” You breathed back. “Cum for me. Come on, please.” 

Spencer couldn’t resist - not when you said ‘please’. 

The sound that came from his chest could only be described as a cry, and any fleeting thought he might have had about pulling out left his brain in a millisecond when he felt your tightness fluttering around him, his hips unconsciously fucking deep into you, his body loving the feeling of being held tightly there while your cunt milked him for all he was worth. 

He certainly didn’t miss the sweet moans you let out - the bright eyed awe you started up at him with as you felt his cum fill you up for the first time. 

… 

It was one of the last good memories you had with Spencer - one of the most perfect pictures you had of who he truly was before he came home from Georgia such a different person, and you had no clue why. 

Spencer could instantly see the lie in your body language - how closed off you became, how quickly you rushed to cut off his words. Along with the intense heat reflected in your eyes. You were thinking about that night. 

He thought he knew exactly which night you were thinking about, and he was going to call you out on it, make you admit in your own words how perfect that night was, even if the two of you were ruined now, a shadow of what you once were. 

But he was disrupted by the sound of his phone ringing.

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

[murdrdocs]

imagine luke and hades!reader who has a hellhound as a protector bc she’s a big 3 kid. this hellhound is very protective so this got me thinking. imagine the r is going at it with luke, and luke makes her moan and barely a second later, this hellhound is clawing at the door and barking bc it thinks r is hurt, when really it’s the opposite.

idk just a thought i had :)

want to make it known that @gh0stsp1d3r has written a hades!reader w a hellhound concept as well

your moan is still echoing around the empty barn whenever you hear the first scratch. at first, you attribute it to nothing, choosing to focus on the long and steady strokes luke is pushing up into your gut.

but when you groan at the feeling of luke pushing down on your lower abdomen, making you feel the outline of him within you, you hear the scratching again, this time paired with a whimper you recognize well.

"wait, luke." he's quick to stop, curls flopping as he looks up at you with his eyebrows pinched together.

"what?"

with the wet sounds of your cunt and the shared groans between you and luke eliminated, you can hear the sound of an upset dog on the other side of the bolted barn doors.

you don't have to be looking at luke to know he's frowning whenever you start to push him away. he doesn't go far, though, only unsheathing himself just to the tip.

"drac?" your voice elicits another whimper from the dog on the other side of the door.

you turn back to luke with a pout on your lips. "luke, he's sad. he wants to come in."

luke, clearly not as fond of your hellhound as you are, scoffs and pushes you to lay back down.

"so he can try to bite me as soon as i touch you?"

you hit his shoulder halfheartedly. you intended for there to be more power behind the jab, but it's then that luke sinks back into you and your limbs have a tendency to turn to mush whenever your boyfriend fucks you.

"that was ..." it takes you a moment and loads of determination to finish your sentence. "that was one time."

"one time too many." luke dips his head to suck on the spot that always clears your mind. psychological warfare that works up until dracula barks.

you're whining when you tell luke that you should at least go check up on him. eventually, he sighs, lets up on your skin, and faces you with his lips turned down and his eyes a little emotionless.

"lemme at least make you cum and then we can all go play a nice game of fetch. okay?"

you're quick to agree, laying back complaisantly and holding up your half of the deal so luke can do the same.

#lukesworld! #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan #celeste writes pjo #yeah the hellhound is called dracula #deal w it

[wifeofasith]

Loved inside and out ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

ׁ ֶָ֢ ⏤͟͟͞͞☕️ ׁ ࣭ warnings ! ۪ ׁ ⊹ || Dom!Anakin × Sub!Fem!Reader, cockwarming, brief pinv sex, creampie (mentioned), pet names MDNI !!

Not bothering whatever Obi-wan was so immensely discussing with Ani was practically impossible when your head was swarming with tingling thoughts about your unsuccessful day. Feeling miserable, you didn’t even try to participate in the ardent conversation the two Jedi had. Your only resolve turned out to be to linger around, trying to gain Anakin’s precious attention, which you were so desperate for.

“What’s gotten you so dull?” Your grand-master’s voice pulls you out of your head, making your eyes settle on his humble white robes. “You’re traipsing around like a youngling.”

Feeling embarrassed about the comment, you glimpse at Anakin, expecting to be defended from Obi-wan’s sharp eye, but instead you are greeted with another curious stare as his arms cross over his chest.

"Just a bad day.” You mutter, struggling to define the intense feeling of weariness you woke up with.

Not pleased enough with the description, they glance at each other concisely, as if sizing up your negativity. Anakin’s arms drop lower with a sigh.

“How about another session to put your mind off things?” He insists, making you wonder what kind of session he was talking about while hoping Obi-wan’s imagination only darts to the possibility of you dueling with Anakin instead of anything wicked.

"Go; I’ll finish on my own.” Your master’s master nods approvingly towards Anakin, reassuring you two about his oblivion to what happens in your little nests when his prying gaze is elsewhere.

Anakin’s eyes gleam briefly before he tilts his head upwards towards you, encouraging you to move alongside him.

“What’s wrong?” A soft voice reaches your ears as you two are far enough. “What bothers your pretty little head?” He speaks gently, but his eyes still stare forward, careful not to drop the cloak you two were wearing.

“It’s nothing, really…” You pause, but unable to come up with a better excuse, you shortly continue. “I’m just blue.”

—

“It’s okay. It’s okay, my angel.” Anakin coos, tugging a strand of your hair behind your ear as his chest presses against your back, firm arm grabbing you closer. “I’ve got you now.”

In the safety of your own quarters and Anakin’s embrace, you felt completely tranquil, even with your panties pulled to the side and the gentle nudge of his cock brushing against your entrance. His tight grip enveloped you perfectly, filling your heart with comfort, opening an escape from the dullness of your routine.

“You’re so precious, always need my cock to soothe you.” He coos, nudging your slit with a wet tip, eager to fuck into your guts.

“Mmm…” You nod silently, not wanting to be bullied about it.

Anakin’s lips gently touch your cheek as if to reassure you that he’s there to ease your mind instead of making fun of your disheveled mental state. He props himself up on his forearm, leaning over you slightly to reach the plum of your lips as he slowly starts pushing inside your warm tunnel.

“Open up, darling, you know you need it.” He hooks his hand under your thigh, raising it just slightly. “Relax and let me in.”

Your walls flutter open, trying to accommodate him in a not-so-aroused hole. It’s irritating and uncomfortable at first, but once his stomach is nicely pressed against your lower back, your body grows limp into the sheets. Finally comforted, finally full of love.

Anakin grunts, fighting the urge to buck against you. He neatly spoons you close to himself, pressing his knees into the back of your legs while his hand gently rubs your abdomen.

“There we go, nice and sheathed in your little pussy.” He pats your hip softly before resuming his soft caress.

You close your eyes, savoring the way your walls molded around him. The feeling of him pulsing inside you like a second heartbeat made your body swell with warmth. Your brain became fuzzy, filling with images of Anakin’s veiny shaft enveloped within you.

“Feels so good, Ani. So warm.” You utter, taking a deep breath of air, of his scent, more of Anakin inside you.

He lets out a low chuckle, his hand creeps its way under your belly button, teasing the skin above your pubic hair with his fingertips.

“Do you want to come?” He asks in a breathy voice, his lips pressing against the shell of your ear. “Want my angel to be happy. Want to make you squirm in pleasure. Do you want to?”

You pause for a second. It was true that your insides were quickly flooding themselves when Anakin was loving you so good, when his hands felt so gentle on your skin, his cock numbed the sadness in you so perfectly… But you didn’t actually need an orgasm; you just wanted him, his presence, his sweet, comforting body, and soft voice that always grounded you. You didn’t want to come, but...

“No...”

“Of course, sweet thing.” He coos and kisses your shoulder gently, pulling your body against his. “Let me just hold my angel, nice and tight and wrapped around me. Just like you should be.”

He continues pressing feather-like pecks across your arm, softly tugging on your robes to expose more of your skin, which he so longed to adore, while you braced yourself to finish the sentence and reveal your need.

“But I want you to.” You mutter in a shy voice, heat spreading across your cheeks, making your muscles clench.

“Want me to what, love?” He pauses his loving kisses, locking his eyes with yours in a gaze that tells you that he knows exactly what you mean.

Having no energy to argue with his teasing nature, you only sigh to express your unwillingness to entertain him. You lay still for a moment, waiting for him to comply and finally amuse your wish.

“Gotta explain it to me, pretty angel, can’t do anything unless you tell me what you want.” He tickles your neck with his hot breath once more, beating you entirely by being sneakily right.

“Ani, please…” You turn to him, your glossy eyes making his heart swell and cock twitch inside you. “…please cum in me—”

“Atta girl.” You can’t even finish your filthy sentence when he grabs your hips and retreats from your warmth. “Gonna fill that pussy up, make a little creamy mess...”

Once his hips snap back, your eyes roll, and you know that soon enough, you’ll be begging to cum.

#anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker blurb #anakin skywalker drabble #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker x you #anakin x reader smut #anakin x reader #anakin x fem reader #anakin smut #anakin fanfiction #anakin blurb #anakin drabble #anakin imagine #anakin one shot #anakin fic #anakin x you #anakin x reader fanfic #anakin x y/n

[thesuperiorrobin]

Last trimester~

Pairing: Husband! Damian Wayne x Pregnant!Wife! Reader

Warning: Mentions of vomiting, reader is like 6-7 months pregnant

Word count: 750

Damian is confused. Every inch of his home has been clean to the T, not a single dust left behind to stick itself on any surface it comes across. So why on earth are you still vomiting your guts out? It started once you had emerged into the third trimester of your pregnancy, everything seemed to be going smoothly, and you were lucky enough to only handle a handful of morning sickness and after a while, they just stopped. Maybe it was karma coming to bite you in the ass for bragging about not getting sick every five minutes and here you are now, sitting on the couch, relaxed as you lean back wearing a pair of black sweats and a shirt that was once too big for you rolled up over your stomach to show off its roundness.

A sigh escapes your lips as you soothe away the slight pain after the precious being you’ve been creating and holding for the past seven months has decided to be cruel and kick at you to stop. “Here you go Habibti” Damian comes from the kitchen with a glass of water in his hands as she walks over to you and passes it down to you. You take it from his hands with a small ‘thank you’. He notices that slight pain expression on your face as he watches you rub away at your belly. “Have they been given you a hard time?”

“Not as much as I’d like to admit,” you say as you take a few sips of water. Damian takes it upon himself, after watching you finish the drink he takes the glass from your hand—kneeling right in between your legs as he places the glass cup on the ground. You watch him with tired eyes as his arms lift and his warm hands replace yours; finding a spot on your stomach. His warm hands feel much better than yours, the context making you sigh out and your own hands find his to be placed on top of. Damian’s hands start to roam around your stomach, your head falls back slightly, and find yourself closing your eyes as you enjoy the warm sensation.

“I cleaned the bathrooms, kitchen, our bedroom, the baby’s bedroom, and any other spare rooms in this house” he mumbles, eyes never leaving you as you hum. “Thank you, but you didn’t need—“

“I do if unwanted smells have been making you ill” A soft smile breaks out on your lips, eyes still closed as you sigh for the nth time. “And besides, it’s the least I can do. I feel useless seeing you in such a state. I feel like I’m not doing as much as I should be doing for my pregnant wife” Damian can feel you grip his hands slightly as you open your tried eyes and glance down.

“Oh ~” you coo, “you’re doing more than enough. Trust me” he cracks a smile, hands leaving your stomach as they find a place beside your thighs. He lifts himself, but not fully as he leans over your relaxed from on the couch. His green eyes find yours:

“I love you”

“I love you too” and Damian leans down to steal a kiss, one that lasts for a while but is cut very short with a rough push on his shoulders. He takes a glance of concern. Your face is pale and a hand over your mouth.

“Bathroom?” He asked and all it takes from you is a nod and he’s rushing you into the bathroom. He holds your hair back, watching as you vomit up your breakfast lunch, and snack. You can feel his warm hand rubbing your back gently. Damian helps you up and helps you freshen yourself up.

“I don’t think he likes it in there anymore, think he just wants out” You poke at your stomach and wince when you feel a harsh kick “Rude”

“He?” Damian asked “How can you be so sure?” you and Damian are waiting for the baby to be born to find out the gender, so it’s unknown to both of you at the moment. “Call it a mother’s intuition” you shrug with a smile.

Damian pinches at your cheeks softly with one hand and the other finds a place on your stomach once more “I still think it’s a girl”

“Nope, it’s a boy. One hundred percent” he rolls his eyes, dragging you to your shared bedroom.

Where the hell have I been?😭

#damian al ghul #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian al ghul x reader #damian x reader #robin x reader #damian scenarios #damian wayne headcanon

[natluvsleclerc]

for jules — c.l

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: after placing p10 in fp3 at suzuka and then p8 at qualifying, charles has a hard time maintaining his frustrations with the team and coping with it being jules anniversary.. and you’re there wrapped all up in it.

warnings: sad topic!, mentions of a death, little bit of angst, cursing, venting, and crying

a/n: first fic! pls be nice! also im sorry in advanced for making you sad

—

a part of me had this gut feeling that this would happen to charles, but another part of me really didn’t think this would happen since it’s been almost 10 years since jules bianchis’ crash.

i’m currently seated in the ferrari garage, headphones over my ears listening in to charles’ radio. it’s only q1 and he’s doing good compared to his fp3 hours before. i watch the tv as the cameras follow along with him on the track as he continues to try and beat his fastest lap.

after the 18 minutes are up, i watch as him and carlos both enter into the garage on the tv. i study the pit workers as i watch them work on whatever charles tells them needs to be fixed. before i know it, its already time for them to head out for q2.

charles started out decent but not good enough since he is currently in p9. i can feel myself tense up just at the thought of him being eliminated, especially knowing that’s the last thing he wants since this race is important to him.

i bite on my fingernails as i watch the other drivers speed through the finish line just hoping none of them beat charles’ time.

“what the hell is happening?!” i hear charles say to his engineer. “things will not be good if im eliminated. i don’t want to be below p9 for the race tomorrow!” i can hear the frustration in his voice as he is suddenly bumped down to p10 since fernando alonso made his way up the positions.

i take my headphones off and walk out of the garage trying to calm down for the last qualifying. all i can think about is how frustrated he was with the team after fp3.

i feel someone’s hand touch my shoulder, “y/n it’ll be okay. charles will make his way up, qualifying is one of his strong suits.” fred makes an attempt to comfort me.

“i know it is, im just worried because we all know how important this race is for him.” fred nods his head at me and gives me a weak smile, “cmon, let’s go cheer on our golden boy.” i smile and follow him back into the garage.

once we walk in, fred hands me back my headphones and sends a smile my way as he makes his way over the charles’ car.

apparently q3 has already started and charles has yet to go out. i noticed that carlos was already on the track, so why wasn’t charles? after the next couple of minutes, the time on the clock dwindles down and he finally exists out and speeds onto the track. as he makes he way down the track i find myself inching closer and closer to the tv. he’s up on the last turn and i watch his time clock as he goes through the finish line.

charles was bumped up to p8 and carlos was in p4.

there was only five minutes left of the clock but i couldn’t stop staring at the god damn tv, just hoping none of the drivers below him beat his time.

with less than a minute left on the clock, charles is still out doing his last lap. he comes up on the last turn, “that’s the best that i can do honestly. i don’t get it!” he speaks to his engineer. i sigh and put my headphones down since qualifying is now over. i wait for charles to come back into the garage.

once he and carlos parked their cars in the garage, i stand back as all the pit workers do their thing as charles begins to climb out the car. i watch as he hops down from the car and ignores everyone, even carlos who made he’s way over to speak to him.

i’m stood in the back as charles approaches me. he takes his helmet off as he’s walking towards me and tosses it on the rack near me and rips his balaclava off and throws towards his helmet. i frown as he speed walks right past me, not even making an attempt to look at me.

dumbfounded, i look back over my shoulder as he makes his way to his room, slamming the door behind him.

“don’t take it personal, y/n. he’s just upset with the team and i’m sure he’s blaming himself for it all.” carlos tells me.

“i just don’t get it. i don’t understand why they won’t listen to him sometimes.” i speak out loud not even caring if the team hears me. carlos shakes his head and gives me a pat on the shoulder, “go talk to him. i know he needs you.” taking in carlos’ words, i nod and head toward charles’ room.

when i walk in i wasn’t expecting to see his suit scattered across the floor. stepping over it, i make my way to where charles is sitting and sit down next to him.

“charles, it’s not your fault. don’t blame yourself.” i assure him as i reach out for his hand but i was mistaken as he quickly stands up from the couch.

“no! you don’t get it! no one in the god damn garage understands how important this race is to me and it’s like everyone is just forgetting the reason i still do this sport is for jules!” he grips his hair as he raises his voice.

“charlie, i do understand! me and carlos both know how important this is to you. please don’t take this out on yourself, it’s not your fault.” i try my best to assure him as he paces around the room which was beginning to make me very worried.

“my team can’t even fucking listen to me anymore. it’s like talking to a brick wall sometimes.” i listen as he begins to rant, “it’s like they almost want to humiliate me! sending me and carlos both out for one lap during free practice three instead of two! and now for quali they just don’t give a fuck about what i say with the tryes!” i sigh as i watch him angrily pace over to me.

“i can’t do this anymore, y/n. i’m only going to embarrass myself at the race tomorrow!” i notice tears begin to fall down his distraught face. i feel my heart break in two at the sight. i grab his face in my hands and guide him to sit down on the couch next to me.

“charlie baby, you are not going to embarrass yourself tomorrow. do not let the pole position determine how good you do tomorrow. you’re the most incredible driver out there and i don’t care what anyone says. i heard one of the announcers say that your pace was the fastest of everyone’s, including max. you have the opportunity to redeem yourself tomorrow and i know that you will.” i comfort him as my thumb wipes some of the tears falling from his eyes.

“i don’t want to let jules down.” he whispers to me. “baby, you’re not letting him down,” i coo to him. “jules is proud of you no matter what. he doesn’t care what place you get. i know he’s so proud of how far you’ve come and the impact you’ve made on people’s lives.”

charles sighs and grabs me by the waist, pulling me into his side, “i’m sorry cherie. i’m so sorry for yelling at you and ignoring you. i shouldn’t have. i was just so upset with myself and i didn’t want you to see me like that-“ i cut him off, “charles, hush. i want you in every way. i want the good and the bad sides of you. i want to be there for you during times like this so i can reassure you and comfort you. that’s what im here for.” i tell him as i stroke his damp face with my thumb.

he grabs my face and tells me, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you know that right?” i shake my head no and giggle as he begins to smother me in kisses all over my face.

“well clearly i’m not doing a good enough job showing you, i need to step up my game.” he says and i giggle again at his words as my cheeks flush.

“i think you’re perfect the way you are, charlie. you’re going to kill the race tomorrow, no matter what happens, me and jules will be proud of you.” i assure him and he gives me a heart melting smile and grabs my chin to pull me in for a kiss.

—

i guess charles’ breakdown was supposed to happen yesterday considering i am currently cheering for him with the biggest smile on my face as he stands on the first place podium, holding up the trophy and pointing up to the sky, “this is for you, jules!” he yells into the microphone and the whole crowd goes crazy as they all cheer for him.

fred walks up besides me with a smile on his face, “what did i say? no one else deserves it more than that boy.” i smile back and say, “you would be right. jules is proud of him.” fred agrees with me as we watch charles doing the champagne spray with max and lando.

after the celebration was over, i watch charles sprint down into the crowd as security chases after him, but little do they know he is really only coming for me.

“mon amour, we did it! we did it!” he yells as he jogs towards me and sweeps me up into his arms and kisses me passionately in front of everyone. both smiling into the kiss, we break apart, “i love you more than you’ll ever know, baby.” he tells me, champagne sticky hands cupping my face as he pulls me in for another kiss.

and nothing else mattered because it was such a life changing moment in charles career.

#f1 x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #f1 #charles leclerc 16 #formula 1 #fluff #angst #jules bianchi #japan gp 2024 #suzuka gp 2024

[greenorangevioletgrass]

give me a minute (1/2) | chef luca

pairing: chef luca x ex-wife!reader word count: 4.7k warnings: established former relationship, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, discussions of separation and divorce, luca and reader has a son, unresolved sexual tension 👀 notes: this fic has been the bane of my existence for the last couple of months or so. it all started as a simple thought of "ooh it would be fun to have a steamy smut with ex!luca" and then it turns into a whole thing with like proper angst and stuff lol. this will be split into two parts, and i think i need encouragement to finish the second part. so please enjoy this first part and tell me what you think! ✨follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notifications to get alerted of my latest fics! ✨

03:49 PM

Everything is fine, you keep telling yourself.

Your soon-to-be ex-husband is flying in from Denmark to finalize the divorce—and even after two years of exhaustive paperwork and mediations and court proceedings, you still don’t know how to feel about this. His visit to New York is meant to be a consolation prize for your six-year-old son Alfie, whose only facetime with his dad lately is through… well, FaceTime. But, given how extraordinarily difficult he’s being—fussing over his breakfast, stalling shower time by a record of 48 minutes, refusing to wear anything you picked out for him… you have an inkling that he might be a little nervous to see his father.

And to make matters worse, it’s raining cats and dogs outside, which delays Luca by two hours now and actively threatens the zoo outing he has planned out for him and Alfie.

So… despite the shitstorm that is happening in your apartment and out, you keep telling yourself that everything is fine.

Because it is. Your home is tidy enough, with all the toys and the mess tucked away in their little cubbies. Your son is dressed up enough; he’s finally put on his pants and shirt, although you missed a button and he won’t let you fix it. The storm is outside, and you’re safely sheltered in. And your relationship with your ex is civil enough, so you feel…

Fine enough.

But the doorman buzzes in, and you can definitely tell the awkwardness in his voice. “Afternoon, Ma’am. I have your husband— I mean, Chef Luca— I mean Mr. Bailey—”

You sigh, not having the energy to let this go on. “Yeah, yeah. Send him up.”

Alfie looks up from his coloring book and practically jumps out of the couch. “My tummy hurts, I’m gonna make a doodie!”

“No running!” You remind him just a second too late, watching him dash over to the bathroom and slamming the door closed. He has a nervous stomach just like you, and as you feel the icky twist in your gut… you can’t help but empathize with his antics today. You would be fucking shit up too, if you only could.

There’s a knock at the door, and you brace yourself as if you’re about to let the storm itself in (although, quite frankly, you probably are). Your hand feels clammy, and you have to wipe it off on your dress before you unlock the door and turn the knob.

“Hey.”

If the storm was a person, you wouldn’t have associated it with the man standing before you. So tall and broad and sturdy. With boyish features and dark blond locks like gentle daylight. It feels like a reach to imagine the seven years of your relationship with him was, indeed, an epic fucking hurricane.

Still. 

You can’t help that you miss him.

“Come on in.” You step aside, not really meeting his gaze.

He murmurs a small thanks and apology, a staple combination in Luca’s British vernacular, as he squeezes in through the door with his duffel bag and suitcase.

“I thought you’d dropped these off at your hotel before you came here.”

“I know. I was going to, but…” he puts down his bags close to the jacket closet, like he always does, “But I got held up for ages and traffic was awful and I didn’t want Alfie to wait even longer, so…”

“Right.” You nod absently. “Well. He’s in the bathroom, should be out in a second, so… have a seat. Do you want anything to drink?”

“Um, water’s fine.” He takes his seat on the dining table.

You’re not sure which one is more jarring; the sheer familiarity of this, or the fact that it isn’t anymore. The two of you just hovering in the home you used to share, courteous but distant.

Luca looks around the place, and notices all the differences right away. You kept the glass dining table and two of the chairs, but changed the corner seating into a plush dining bench against the kitchen island. He recognizes Alfie’s favorite stuffed bunny on the couch, although the throw pillows were new. But he takes one look at the wall… and his heart drops.

Gone are any traces of him in the snapshots of your life. The pictures are all of you and Alfie—eating ice cream in the park, grinning and showing his first lost tooth, dressed up on Halloween… He really shouldn’t be surprised or disappointed to find the wedding portrait gone, or the vacation selfie in Italy four years ago. But it hurts quite a bit to find a generic flower portrait replacing the picture of him kissing you on the forehead while Alfie, laying on your chest, merely hours after his birth.

“Yeah, I…” you clear your throat as you hand him the glass of water, “…did some redecorating.”

“It looks good.” He manages a stiff nod, taking a hesitant swig of water.

“You look…” good, you want to say. Because he is. He’s got that tan and the haircut that reminds you of when you first met him years ago. But you can’t say that. So you settle with, “You look well.”

He meets your eyes, really meets your eyes for the first time, and you try to convince yourself the little flutter you feel inside is just your nervous stomach. But he smiles, soft and earnest. “So do you.”

You turn back and open the fridge, welcoming the cold air and how it cools down the burning warmth on your cheeks. Trying not to freak out and decide what you’re getting, so you don’t look like an idiot. Your hand grabs a can of ginger ale, and you sigh in relief.

“How’s Alfie doing in school?”

“He’s doing alright. He’s enjoying his art classes. Math is still a struggle, but Ms. Rashad says his reading is quite advanced for his age.” You relax a little bit into the conversation. The topic of your son resets you a little bit into a somewhat common ground as co-parents. Plain and simple.

“Definitely takes after you. My dyslexic ass could never.”

You smile at that. Small jokes are still there, always a good sign.

“And the, uh…” he lowers his voice, “the anxiety?”

“Comes and goes. He’s been complaining about a stomach ache all day.” You glance towards the bathroom.

He frowns in concern. “Should we go check on him?”

“Sure…” You walk together with Luca following suit, tentatively knocking at the door. “Alfie? Hey bub, how’s your doodie?” It sounds silly, but you find it helps to ask open questions instead of showing your worries outright.

A flush from inside. “There’s no doodie,” he hollers. His voice is murmured from the barrier, and then the running tap water.

You catch the unease in Luca’s features, and you feel a little bad for him. It wouldn’t feel great that your own son is nervous to see you after many months apart. “You wanna come out, then? Your dad’s here.” You try to sound cheerful and upbeat, hoping it’ll hype them both up.

The two-second gap never felt so long. But the door opens, and there he is, standing meekly against the frame. Staring up at you and then at Luca.

Luca’s heart nearly stops as those big doe eyes stare up at him, a spitting image of you. The same softness. The same spark of stubbornness.

The same vulnerable look.

“Hey, bub.”

“Hi.”

“Can I get a hug?”

There’s a brief pause, before he steps forward and throws his arms around his father’s middle. Luca grunts softly, a little surprised by the sheer force Alfie is hugging him, his heart swelling three times over.

“Oh my God, look at you!” He ruffles the boy’s dark hair and kneels down to level with him. His cherubic face is small cupped in his large hand, but not as small as Luca remembered it. “You’re so tall now!”

“Of course. I’m 3 feet and 8 inches tall now. Right, Mommy?” He proudly announces, getting the exact height completely memorized.

“That’s right,” you confirm with a grin. 

Luca gasps, a smile blooming on his face. “What?”

Alfie nods. “I’m gonna be as tall as you.”

“No! Don’t grow up so fast!” He playfully cries out.

“Why?”

“Because I won’t get to do this anymore!” Luca seizes his boy into his arms and sweeps him off of his bunny-socked feet, sending Alfie into a fit of hysterical giggles.

The sight makes you chuckle, but the feeling could bring Luca to happy tears. He’s been gone for so long, he’s afraid he’d forget how it feels to hold his son in his arms again. Or worse, that his son would find his presence alien.

But he’s here now. With you and the son you share. Attacking Alfie in tickles and noisy kisses, and letting the boy climb him like monkey bars. And it calms his anxious heart a bit as he reminds himself, everything’s fine. 

And as things fall back into place, thunder crashes outside, as if sobering all of you back into reality. Alfie shirks into himself, climbing off of his father’s back. You want to reach out for him so badly, but at the same time, not wanting to interrupt his bonding time with his dad.

“It’s okay, bub. It’s just thunderclap,” Luca soothes emphatically over the sudden silence, bringing Alfie back down to his feet. He smooths his son’s hair gently, comfortingly. “I got you, I got you…”

“Do animals even come out in the rain?” Alfie is back to his withdrawn self, mumbling his words and avoiding Luca’s gaze.

“Some animals actually love playing in the rain,” you chime in helpfully.

Luca keeps his tone cheerful and bright. “Yeah, and you can wear your raincoat and your wellies and I’ll even let you jump in puddles—”

“I don’t wanna do that! I wanna stay home!” He whines, voice raising a little.

“It’s your dad’s time—”

“No!”

“Alfie.” Your tone is firmer now, as he struggles out of his father’s arms and runs to his favorite corner of the couch in the living room, holding his stuffed bunny tight. 

But Alfie’s got a point. This is not the kind of rain where you can take a leisurely stroll in. No, this is the kind where you stay huddled inside and hope it doesn’t flood the streets. Luca takes a thoughtful look at Alfie who is sulking and shrinking from the sound of thunder, at the window completely obscured from rain, and then at you… offering an apologetic smile.

So much for quality time with his son. 

Luca’s heart sinks a little. He sighs in defeat. “Maybe we should just wait it out…”

“Are you sure? I mean, you flew 9 hours to see him—“

“And I don’t want him to be pissed at me the whole time we’re hanging out,” he reasons. “Besides, I don’t think any Uber would take our order at this time.”

It makes sense, you think. As much as you want this awkward little broken family dance to end, you know that staying in and waiting it out is the best option. Alfie would feel much more comfortable at home than in whatever hotel Luca is staying in. And maybe it’s your protective side talking, but if he ever gets fussy, you’d prefer to be around to deal with it.

“Alright, fine.”

“Yeah? Is that okay with you?”

You shrug. The truth is a little more complicated, but ultimately you settle with a simple, “yes.”

Alfie takes a quick glance at you and Luca emerging from the hallway (you have your mother’s side eye, Luca always said), before returning to fiddling his stuffed bunny’s ears (your father’s neutral look of disapproval, you would say). Like clockwork, Luca takes the seat next to Alfie, while you take the puffy stool in front of him.

“That wasn’t very nice of you to raise your voice at me and your dad like that. I get that you’re nervous about the weather—a bit startled, too— but still. We don’t raise our voices in this household.”

Alfie looks at you and Luca. “I’m sorry.”

Luca nods in acknowledgement. “I’m sorry for being late, buddy.” He gingerly reaches out to touch the boy’s hand. “You’re right, though. It might be best to stay in for a bit.” He motions at the rain hammering down on the window outside.

“I told you. I wanna stay at home.”

“I know. And we are for now. We can…” Luca scans around for something to do. His eyes fall on the coloring book and the open box of color pencils next to it. Bingo! “We can… color some drawings in that book?”

He pouts, not entirely sold on the idea but not outright refusing it either. 

“Or, hey, I got some new drawings on me. You can color them, too.” Luca takes off his hoodie and shows off the tattoos on his arms.

God, you forgot about the plethora of trashy tattoos adorning his skin. Even worse, you forgot how it highlights the defined curves of his biceps. Focus, for fuck’s sake! You avert your gaze towards the flower portrait on the wall. 

Alfie perks up a little. “This is my old drawing.” His tiny finger pokes at his forearm, on a tattoo of a stick figure climbing up the stairs. “You still have it?”

“Of course. It’s there forever. I’ll always have it.” Luca finds himself choking up at that simple admission. A little token of childhood of his ever-growing love. “Go on, get your crayons.”

Alfie looks at you as if seeking permission, and it makes you want to laugh that he shares the same animated eyebrows as his father. 

“Go ahead, bub,” you usher him off lightly, and as soon as he’s out of sight, nods at your ex. “Good save.”

Luca half-smiles. “Thanks. You should chill out. Read a book, take a nap or something. I got him.”

“What, are you trying to kick me out?”

“No, I just—”

Your smile breaks out. “I’m kidding! Go hang out with Alf. I got a Zoom meeting in a few minutes anyway.”

He sighs in relief, chuckling lightly. “You almost got me there…”

You briefly pat his shoulder and for an even briefer moment, his hand is atop yours. The big ‘A’ tattoo on the back of his hand—your son’s initial in a bold Gothic letter— serves as a reminder of what’s past; a whirlwind romance, the wild days of being a family of a merry band of misfits…

Misfits. That’s the biggest takeaway here, you suppose. Your pieces don’t quite fit right. Not without little Alfie gluing you together. 

With a final squeeze on Luca’s shoulder, you make your way to your bedroom, making space for Luca’s puzzle pieces to fit with Alfie’s because they don’t fit yours anymore.

***

05:04 PM

By the time your Zoom meeting ends, the pelting rain outside is louder and the chatter inside is nearly inaudible. It feels nice for about ten seconds… until you remember that you have a six-year-old at home and long bouts of silence can be quite… well, suspicious. You pad out into the hallway to check on him.

“Let’s see. You wanna do the sunflower next? What do you think, my love?”

Oh right. For a moment, you forgot that the thirty-year-old other parent is here with him.

Luca has his t-shirt sleeves hiked all the way up, biceps in full display as Alfie colors in a tattoo on the back part of his upper arm. The boy’s tongue sticks out and his eyebrows furrow in focus. It seems like a delicate operation between them, so you linger out of sight for just a while longer.

“Why do you like sunflowers, Dad?”

The two of you have always supported his inquisitive mind, and he missed these kinds of questions most of all. Even if the answers can be a little complicated. “Because of your mum, actually.”

“You like it because Mommy likes it?” Alfie’s little nose crinkles.

Luca chuckles in amusement, sensing the judgment in his son’s tone. Damn you guys for teaching Alfie not to get carried away by trends. “Well… when your mum and I first met, it was winter in Chicago and it’s pretty bleak and gloomy and freezing. But, your mum had a little sunflower by the window—just like that one.” He glances at the little potted sunflower on the windowsill. “She said it’s a reminder to let the sun shine in. I thought it was adorable. We started doing that everywhere we lived and… I don’t know, it reminds me of home.”

“Do you have a sunflower by your window, Dad?”

His heart catches as he realizes the answer. “No, I don’t…”

“Why? You don’t miss home?”

There’s a sharp pang of hurt in hearing that innocent query. The apartment in Copenhagen, as nice as it is, has never been much of a home for Luca. He would get up before the sun is up and return from work late at night—lather, rinse and repeat. On his days off, he would either go on a morning run and spend much of his time outside, or sleep til noon and live on instant ramen and takeout. There’s no time for a sunflower by the window. No room. He made sure of that.

He doesn’t deserve one after leaving his wife and son for fucking Noma. 

Luca swallows back the lump in his throat, although the slight waver in his voice gives him away. “I got my sunflower right here, bub. My little piece of home.” He taps on his arm softly as his son finishes up. 

Alfie hums, pleased with how the tattoo looks, now filled in with yellow and black and brown crayons. “I think this is my favorite one.”

“Yeah? Not the tabasco?” Luca grins, looking down at his forearm—specifically at the mostly accurate red and green of the hot sauce bottle.

“No…” Alfie taps his chin with his finger thoughtfully. “This one is prettier.”

Luca maneuvers around to look at the sunflower tattoo a little better. “You’re right, it is much prettier. Maybe I should get the colors in permanently, huh?”

The boy’s face lights up. “Can you?”

“Yeah. I think I will. Nice job, my little tattoo artist.” Luca pulls him into a bear hug and kisses the top of Alfie’s head. 

You can’t help but chuckle, glad to see them bonding again, lost in your thoughts for a moment.

“Mommy! Dad says I can be a tattoo artist!” Alfie snaps you out of your reverie.

“Is that right?” Your eyebrows shoot up, struggling to maintain a neutral expression while staring at Luca like with all due respect, what the fuck?

He raises his hands in surrender. “I just said he’s my little tattoo artist, that’s all.”

“I colored in all of Dad’s tattoos! Look!” Alfie tugs at his dad’s arm, beaming as he shows off his work.

You step forward, studying the results of the tattoo makeover. Every single tattoo is colored in; some accurately, like the sunflower and tabasco, while others (like the purple fish and chips and blue scotch bonnet)… not so much. You don’t know which one’s more amusing; your son’s artistic style, or your ex’s bashful look as he models the art works on his arms. 

“Looks great, bub. Well done!” You ruffle Alfie’s hair, enjoying his improved mood.

“Can I watch Bluey now?”

You purse your lips comically. “I don’t know, bub. Why don’t you look at your checklist on the fridge and see if you can?”

Alfie bounds past you, towards the fridge, and reads the checklist out loud to himself. “Have you… brushed your teeth? Yes. Brushed your hair? Yes…” He flattens his wavy locks with the palm of his hand, continues reading with a lower murmur. “Mommy, I did everything except tidy up my room and play outside for 30 minutes!”

“Okay. Obviously we can’t play outside, so… why don’t you just go clean your room and I’ll let you watch Bluey for a bit?”

Alfie gamely nods and goes into his bedroom, his bunny socks muting his footsteps against the hardwood floor.

Meanwhile, it takes you an extra beat to realize how close you’re standing with Luca without your child between you. He rolls down the sleeves of his black t-shirt sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Your meeting went okay?”

“It’s alright.” You look at literally anything but the man in front of you, ultimately stopping at your potted sunflower by the windowsill. “That storm out there, on the other hand…”

“Yeah…”

You take an inconspicuous look at the hallway, making sure your son is out of earshot. “Weather reports say it might last a few more hours.”

Luca huffs, trying not to stress out about the possibility of street floods. Of all the things he missed, New York thunderstorms are not one of them. Still, this shitty weather has granted him some time with his son, at his former home… with his former spouse. And God, does he miss this more than he dreads the weather…

“Want me to make you guys dinner?” He offers earnestly.

You pull back, returning to your normal volume. “Oh. No, you don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind. Really. Might as well, right?”

You hear heavy footsteps from the bedroom and Alfie hollers from the hallway. “I’m all done!”

“Don’t forget your crayons!”

Alfie promptly makes a beeline towards his leftover mess. “Heard, Mommy.” He hurriedly puts his crayons back in the box and rushes into his room to put it away. Returning mere moments later with a newfound spring in his steps. “I’m done for real! Now can I please watch Bluey now?”

“I can cook while he gets his screen time.”

The two boys look at you with their best puppy eyes, and it’s the most disarming thing you’ve seen in a while—and the resemblance between them only makes things worse. You playfully roll your eyes in relent. “Alright, alright. Go ahead. Watch your TV and make your dinner.”

There’s a quiet little yesss from Alfie as Luca low-fives him before they scatter, one to the living room and the other to the kitchen. For a moment, you feel like you were transported back in time. For the first time in over two years, you’re caught between cartoon sounds from the TV and the kitchen alive again. All was well in the household. 

“Is he still a picky eater?” Luca mouths the last two words inaudibly.

You raise your eyebrows in confirmation. “All he wants to eat is chicken nuggies.”

“I can do chicken nuggies,” he shrugs easily, rummaging through the freezer and takes out a pack of chicken breasts. “Or some version of that.”

Upon overhearing the key word, Alfie’s head all but whips toward Luca. “We’re having chicken nuggies for dinner?”

“Er, kind of.”

“Can I help?” He perks up from the back of the couch, excitement bubbling over.

Luca smiles apologetically. “Maybe later, my love. Daddy’s gonna be using a big knife…” he says as he checks the blade closely, swiping it with his thumb. “…which is dull, by the way. When was the last time you sharpened this?”

“I… have no idea.” You frown. You don’t even remember sharpening any knives… ever. Meanwhile, Luca simply rummages through the kitchen drawer, which makes you ask, “What are you doing?”

“I’m sharpening it,” he states matter-of-factly, already setting up a makeshift sharpening station which… what?

“Didn’t even know we had that,” you murmur plainly as you watch him work. Taking out a block of whetstone from the drawer (where did that even come from?) and running it under the sink. Laying out a kitchen rag and the stone on top of it.

He chuckles a little, scraping the blade against the stone at an angle, firmly but carefully. “Can’t leave you good Santoku knives without the proper sharpening tools, right?”

“You never taught me how to do it, though.”

“Yes, I have.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“What are you talking about? Back in Chicago, I—”

You burst out laughing. “Oh my God, that was one time forever ago! And you never let me sharpen the knives. You literally always do it.”

He pauses, grinning bashfully. “Fair…”

For the umpteenth time that day, Luca’s heart catches—this time from hearing you laugh. Your warm voice rings so pleasantly in his ears, and the way your face lights up… he almost forgets there’s a storm outside, because he’s got a lovely summer day right here in front of him.

And honestly, what is beautiful sunny Copenhagen compared to this warmth of the two people he loves the most?

“Alright, alright. You want a refresher? Come here.”

You gingerly take the place next to him, arms crossed so as to not invade his space. Neither of you say anything when your shoulders brush against each other. It’s brief, painstakingly so, but eerily familiar. You wouldn’t admit that you want to stay pressed against him a little longer, but… you do.

“Okay, so. You see this bit right here?” His finger runs up the line where the blade flattens into the edge. “Rest the knife on the stone on this angle, start from the heel—near the handle— and just… bring it in,” he demonstrates the inward sliding motion—short and precise and repetitive, “and work your way up to the tip.”

You silently watch him work for a moment, handling the knife. Firm and steady, but not harsh. On the contrary, it’s almost… delicate. You’ve seen many chefs work in your lifetime, but no one is as composed or stoic (or handsome, but that is beside the point) as Luca. It’s quite fascinating. 

“And you do this on both sides, right?” You vaguely recall.

“Good memory.” He nods appreciatively. “Some people like to do each side one at a time, back and forth, but I like to do one side, get that burr forming…”

“What’s a burr, sir?”

Luca chuckles at your little Hamilton reference. “So when you work on this side, you’ll feel a nice little rough bit forming on the other side like this.” He slides his thumb from the knife’s spine to the edge and carefully guides your hand through the motion. “Feel that?“

Yes. That should be an easy enough answer, because yes, you do feel the rough edge of the excess metal on the blade. But it’s a bit hard to focus on that when you’re more fixated on the rough calluses of his fingertips instead…

In theory, playing a knife with your almost ex-husband is as bad as a bad idea can get. In practice, though… Having your hand in his again, feeling him so close to you, smelling his perfume…

“That’s the burr. Once you get it on one side, you can switch over to the other side and balance it out.” His voice is lower now. Softer. “And you just… do it over and over again until you’ve worked off the burr and have a smooth and sharp blade.”

Luca switches the knife to your other hand and stands behind you, hoping to God you can’t feel his pounding heart as his chest presses against your back. Gently guiding you through the sharpening motion—the firm, steady, angled scraping of the blade towards you. You swear to God, every pull brings him just a tad closer.

“So you basically have to break the knife a little to fix it?” 

“That’s basically it, yeah.”

The storm feels miles away. His hands are still curled against yours. His chest flush against your back. His body heat emanates from within him and shrouds you like your favorite cardigan.

“Listen, I—”

“Thanks… for the refresher.” And with that, you put the knife down on the kitchen rag and pull away.

It takes him an extra second to snap out of it and step back to make way for you as you retreat back into your bedroom. “Yeah, yeah. No problem.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck your fucking life to hell.

***

if you've reached the end of this page, thank you so much for reading! do tell me what you think, reblog, send me asks, thoughts, ANYTHING. i would LOVE to hear your opinion!!!

#will poulter #chef luca #luca the bear #the bear fx #chef luca x reader #luca x reader #chef luca x ex-wife!reader #chef luca fic #chef luca smut #will poulter fic #will poulter fluff #will poulter angst #will poulter smut #ava writes

[loveshotzz]

My name’s Elvira, but you can call me tonight

steve harrington x eddie’sbestfriend!reader

Melt With You

summary: A cancelled movie night, Steve’s first high, and a realization you weren’t expecting.

wc: 2.7k

warnings: my blog is 18+ but this will be pretty safe for work. takes place in 1988 when Elvira Mistress of the Dark came out. post season four but no mention of the upside down, fem!reader, mentions of weed smoking, mentions of being stoned and being high for the first time, mutual pining, cuddling.

A/N: first I want to dedicate this to @bewilderedbunny for pointing out that Steve Harrington is Bob coded which made me fall even more in love with him. You can also thank @dr-aculaaa for putting this brain worm in my head where it spiraled and then she entertained it again and it spiraled some more. p.s. I know her movie macabre was cancelled in 86 but brought back in the 90’s but let’s pretend.

mini series masterlist -> chapter two 🎃

Steve was close. Too close.

His thigh is warm pressed against yours, long legs spread wide taking up most of the room on the couch. The cedar that clings to the threads of his maroon sweater mix with the old spice that he’s almost sprayed too much of, and you’re surprised at how much you actually like it. You blame it on the joint you both shared, and you do it again when his socked foot touches yours from under the blanket draped across your laps and your heart rate kicks up a few beats. This was just Steve, your new friend. Eddie’s new unlikely friend.

The living room in your apartment is dimly lit in a mess of Halloween colored string lights strung up along your walls that Eddie helped you hang up last week on the first official day of fall. They fill the small space in bursts of warm orange pumpkins and tiny purple bats while Elvira Mistress of The Dark glows from the screen of your TV in front of your couch. The couch where Steve is still sitting too close. 

The flicker of your candles dances across your walls and you’re tempted to blow them all out when they keep catching the corner of your eye. Maybe that's why you can't focus on the movie you were so excited about. The movie you raised a big fuss over when the group canceled your weekly night in favor of dates and work. The movie Steve still offered to watch with you saying he had no plans anyway. You really contemplate it when you realize it’s filling your living room with the kind of smell that’s eerily similar to the one embedded in the leather of the BMW you recently started getting more rides in.

When Steve laughs you can smell the berry on his breath from the Red Vines he can’t stop eating, his fingertips glisten from the half finished tub of popcorn on the coffee table. His arm brushes the length of yours when he leans forward to toss the almost empty pack of candy with the rest of the snacks and your stare immediately finds the sliver of tan skin revealed to you when the maroon hem rides up. Stomach flipping when you spot more freckles than the ones that seem to dot the endless expanses of his perpetually sun kissed skin. 

“Wow, she’s funny!” He snickers like he just got a good surprise, leaning back into the cushions. “I didn’t know she was so funny.”

The shift in his weight makes the couch dip, bringing you closer to him. Shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. Why is your chest tight?

Turning your head, you meet his blood shot, heavy lidded gaze and lazy smile that pushes up his pink cheeks. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Steve Harrington so content. So relaxed. It might have something to do with the fact that the joint you both shared was his first.

“Beauty, humor and brains? How could you go wrong?” You grin and it makes the amber in his eyes light up.

“Yeah,” He stares at you for a second longer than he’d have the guts to on a normal day before adding with a sigh “tell me about it.”

There was something different about the way he was looking at you tonight, and it makes your palms sweat. The fly away honey strands that stick out wildly by his ears look softer than normal too. Why do you want to find out? Clearing your throat, he raises his eyebrows up at you in an unphased offering of his attention.

“How are you doing big boy? You coughed quite a bit earlier.” His gaze narrows at the nickname letting you know that Steve was still very much in there.

“I think it’s perfectly normal for someone who hasn’t smoked before to cough when they take an accidental big hit,” he challenges, his sock covered toes finding yours again seemingly on their own, “and to answer your rudely asked question, I’m having a very nice time.”

He tries to keep his face straight but the smile that stretches a mile wide across yours makes him snort, the whites of his perfect teeth blinding in the dark when you wiggle your feet with his. 

“Good, I wouldn’t want Robin to come hunt me down or something.” You giggle leaning back letting your own high relax you into the couch.

Your eyes find Elvira’s generous cleavage on the screen as you try to ignore the feeling of Steve’s hand touching yours when he scratches his thigh and again when he leaves it there. 

“Robin won’t care, it’s Nance you gotta worry about. Worry wart Wheeler.” The nickname rolls off his tongue too easily and makes you both stop, letting the sounds of the towns committee trying to get Elvira out fill the silence before you both fall into a fit of laughter.

It was the kind of laughter that left hot tears streaming down your faces as you leaned even further into each other trying to catch your breath, only for one of you to mutter ‘worry wart wheeler’ when the other would finally be holding it together just to start all over again. By the time it was done, and the last few chuckles subsided, his head had found a new home on your shoulder with his forehead buried in the crook of your neck. 

The smell of his hairspray, and the soft flyaways you’d wondered about tickle your nose with his hair pressed to your cheek. Your socked feet stay tangled together as you try not to think about the size difference and that stupid saying you’d heard in middle school, and you definitely try not to think about how the tip of his pinky bumps into the side of your hand and how you don’t hesitate to hook it with yours.

Cozy. Too Cozy.

There’s a comfortable silence that falls between you both when your attention is finally brought back to the movie and you wonder if he’s having the same existential crisis as you at how good this feels. Eddie would never let you live it down. You and the hair?! Steve’s amused hum breaks you out of your train of thought and you already know you’ll have to watch this again when you aren’t so…distracted. 

Elvira and Bob are fighting with a monster she accidentally concocted inside of a pot instead of the casserole she was trying to make, and his finger tightens around yours when Bob almost loses the fight before he shakes against you with a chuckle. The longer the movie goes on, the more you start noticing Steve’s similarities to the hunk who stole the Mistress of the Dark’s affections, mumbling an ‘oh my god’.

God dammit, you have a crush on Steve Harrington.

The weed makes the realization floor you more than it probably would on a normal day, because you aren’t blind, anyone could tell you how handsome the former king of Hawkins is. But no one could have warned you about how soft he is, especially right now with sleepy eyes and messy hair that smells like pine and too much hair product. They wouldn’t be able to tell you how big of a dweeb he is, or as Robin affectionately calls him a ‘dingus’. They also don’t know how good of a friend he is to anyone who’s lucky to have him, like refusing to let you spend the night alone and watching a movie he knew you were excited about just because he’d actually listened when you talked about it for weeks, even saving you the first copy in Keith’s possession. 

Too bad you’ve barely retained any of it. 

As if he could hear your thoughts, you feel the slight turn of his head and the heavy weight of his stare on the side of your face. You try not to give yourself away and keep your gaze locked on the TV where the town has Elvira ready to be burned at the stake, and Bob has to rescue her. You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes, the universe just rubbing it in now. 

The side of your body he’s been leaning against starts to go numb, and no matter how much you want to stay exactly like this for whatever is left of the night, the need for circulation becomes too much. Your eyes flick down to his that haven’t haven’t wavered and that slow happy smile spreads across his pink lips when they meet. 

“You doing okay, honey.” The nickname he’s called you sarcastically in arguments sounds different when it’s wrapped in affection like this. 

“Not that I’m not enjoying -,” nerves make your throat close up and you have to clear them out before you finish, “not that I’m not enjoying this. My arm is just kind of going numb.”

Heat rises to your cheeks with embarrassment that you know is misplaced, and his eyes go wide when your words click. His reaction is fast despite the smoked joint that's snuffed out in an empty coke can on the table when he pulls away. The warmth of his body that’s invaded what feels like every inch of yours for the last hour is gone and the tightness in your chest worsens now that you miss it. Stupid crush. Stupid blood flow. 

“Oh my god, sorry, sorry, I was just so comfortable I wasn’t even thinking.” There’s stress in his tone that you haven’t heard all night and you decide that you hate it, he’s always stressed.

“Hey,” Your fingers curl around his bicep, and it flexes under the thick material of his sweater when his eyes meet yours, making you forget how to speak for a moment, “if we lay down on our sides we’ll - we’ll be more comfortable?” 

Your heart beats loud in your ears after you throw out your suggestion fully knowing there’s gotta be less than twenty minutes left of the movie at most. 

“Yeah, we can do that, like, big spoon?” He points to himself, with eyes as red as his cheeks before pointing to you with a small grin, “little spoon?”

You bite your bottom lip to contain the smile that threatens to break across your face, and it only makes his grow. 

“Yeah, just like that Harrington.” You giggle and you don’t miss the kind of glint in his eyes that sparkles because of it.

“Harrington? I thought I was big boy?” He mocks with fake offense, clumsily clambering back onto the couch letting himself fully extend.

His socked feet almost hang off the armrest but the problem is quickly solved when he turns onto his side leaving just enough room for you. One of his big hands patting the cushions in an invitation that makes you both laugh. 

“I thought you hated that nickname?” you tease, butterflies that never existed before erupting when he watches you with soft eyes climb into the spot next to him.

Your head lands in the crook of his elbow, amber and spice enveloping you while one of his long fingers curl around your hip not hesitating to pull you flush against his chest like he missed you. Maybe you weren’t the only one with a wandering mind tonight. 

“I don’t,” he agrees, lips coming up right next to your ear and you wonder if he can feel the shiver that runs down your spine, “but I kinda like it when you say it.”

Your body curls into him when you giggle with a throb in your core that makes your thighs press together. Steve chuckles, hooking his chin over your shoulder and his feet find yours at the end of the couch like they did under the blanket. Grabbing the throw off the floor, you drape it back over the two of you when you both finally get situated. 

He feels like he’s everywhere and it’s even harder to concentrate like this, especially when all his fingers are laced with yours now. The pad of his thumb rubs circles on the top of your hand, and you can feel the way his cheeks push up into a grin every time something makes him laugh. You spend the last bit of what’s left of the movie tangled up with him like this, and neither one of you try to move when the credits roll or when the screen goes black. 

The air buzzes with the kind of tension that’s laid dormant until there’s nothing to distract you from it anymore in the new silence. His breath fans hot across your neck while the strokes of his thumb get slower, adding a little more pressure to the muscle there, and feels good enough to have your eyes flutter closed. 

Maybe it’s the darkness of your living room, or the way the tip of his nose starts to trace the shell of your ear but you get the surge of confidence you need to turn around and face him. Steve doesn’t protest at all, letting you move with the kind of ease that makes you wonder if he was waiting for it all along. The small smile on his face tells you he absolutely was.

The new angle has you looking up at him from under your lashes, while his hand that held yours all night covers the middle of your back bringing you to his chest, getting you just as close as before. Your legs slot together while warm lights flicker across his face, they bounce and reflect off the lingering glaze that coats his eyes. Embers burning in a mossy ground. 

It starts to feel like Steve Harrington wants to kiss you, and you’d be lying if your said you didn’t want him too.

“Hi” You whisper, the corners of your lips pulling up because they can’t help it when he looks at you like this.

“Hi” the rich honey of his voice comes out low as he dips his head down to rest on his forearm right above yours.

The tips of your noses are dangerously close to touching, and you swear you hear his breath hitch when your feet find his again. Holding his gaze, you silently dare him to read your mind so you don’t have to say it out loud. You do it first.

“I had a lot of fun tonight.” You try not to think about how it sounds like something you’d say at the end of a date.

“Me too, I’m uh -“ a puff of hot air fans across your face when he laughs, and you notice his first sign of nerves all night, “I’m glad I didn’t make a fool of myself or anything.” 

“I have to say I’m impressed, you handled your first joint like a pro.” Your hands dare to run up his chest, plucking a piece of lint from the threads of his sweater. You feel the way the muscles in his stomach flex for you, and you have to bite back your smirk.

“I had good company is all.” He hums, the blunt ends of his nails scratching along the dip of your back, before whispering “Is this okay?”

Your eyes flutter shut with contentment you haven’t felt in a while, your whole body melting into his with a mumbled ‘mmmhm’

“Does Elvira have any other movies we could watch sometime?” His question makes your eyes pop open, and he tries to look as nonchalant as possible before adding, “you know just me and you.”

“Not a movie, per say but she has a show I like to watch where she does funny commentary on B rated horror films.” Your two feet trap one of his between them playfully to try and ease the nerves he shouldn’t have, earning you that megawatt smile that’s made half the ladies in Hawkins swoon. 

So, Steve Harrington wasn’t a mind reader.

“That sounds like fun,” He lets out a relieved sigh that you didn’t know he was holding, close enough now for your noses to touch.

“Yeah? You wanna come have fun with me?” You tease, but it comes out sounding like a double entendre that makes your skin heat up, especially when Steve closes his eyes and groans. The nails that scratch your back freeze as he tries regaining some semblance of self control. Licking his lips, he exhales a breath out of his nose before he speaks,

“Abso-“

His answer gets cut off by the sound of your front door slamming open, followed by the bellowing voice of the only other person who has keys to your apartment.

“I’ve come for boobies and I brought beer! Better late than never am I ri- Whoa, whoa, WHOA, what is going on here?” Eddie’s shock is quickly replaced by amusement, dimples poking deep holes in his cheeks when he grins wildly as he takes in the two of you on the couch.

What was going on here?

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