#he replies like “well if you're offering..”

[vivwritesfics]

Bleeding From The Storm

Chapter Six - Monaco

After the death of his son, the head of the Dupont family wants his daughter protected. He moved her to Monaco, the safe zone, and has her protected by Charles Leclerc. Max Verstappen was never supposed to meet her. He didn't even know who she was. But he knew she was beautiful, and he knew he wanted to know more, much to the horror of Charles Leclerc.

1.5K

Warnings: hints of smut

Series Masterlist

If Bunny Dupont lived a normal life, she would have been so excited to return home and tell everybody in her life about Max.

She'd missed Charles so much, had a little fantasy playing out in her head of introducing him to Max. The fantasy started lovely, the two of them shaking hands, but one of them always ended up dead at her feet.

Her reunion with Charles wasn't what he had been expecting. She didn't run into his arms the moment he picked her up from the Dupont house. "Bunny," he'd say as his fingers brushed through her hair, brushing out any potential knots. "Let's get you home."

But it didn't happen like that. Bunny trudged over to him, expression dejected as a member of staff passed Charles her bags. "Bunny," he called as he followed her out of the doors. "Is something wrong?"

She pulled open the door of his car and climbed in. A sigh left Charles' lips as he pulled open the trunk and threw her bags inside. He couldn't act like he didn't know where she'd been for the last week. Charles didn't know Jos well. But he knew the rumours and he knew Mad Max.

Charles was silent as they pulled out of the Dupont estate. He waited until they were on the roads, heading back to Monaco, back to the safe zone. "You'd tell me if something happened in the Netherlands, right?" He asked carefully, watching in the mirror for her reactions.

She looked at him, turned in her chair to face him. "Of course, Cha. Nothing happened," she said and leaned her head against the window.

"So, Jos Verstappen and Mad Max didn't lay their hands on you?"

Now, this caught her attention. "Mad Max?" She couldn't stop herself from asking.

Charles gave a quick nod. "So, you met him, then?" He asked, and she didn't answer. "He's dangerous, Bun. He's the whole reason that I didn't want you going over there."

He didn't see the way her nails were digging into her knee as he spoke. "What... has he done?" She asked slowly, almost as if she was cautious.

"He's Jos's gun," Charles replied. He switched the radio station. "He's killed more people than I can count. A few years ago there was rumours that he'd taken to torturing people, but I don't think it ever got investigated. Not that Jos would make him stop, anyway." That last part he mumbled under his breath.

She sucked in a breath. But she couldn't say that Max killing people came as a surprise, not in his line of work. She'd seen the blood stains on his shirt, faded from the wash, as she pushed said shirt from his shoulders.

"There's something you're not telling me," said Charles as they drove through the Monaco check point.

The two climbed out of the car, letting it be checked for weapons. They themselves were checked, metal detectors moved over their body. "Nothing, Cha," she said, but the way she was looking at the ground, he knew something was wrong.

It was easy for Bunny to forget that Charles knew her better than anybody in the world. He'd been living with her in Monaco since she was fourteen, and had been friends longer than that. He knew everything there was to know about her, knew her mannerisms, probably knew what she was thinking.

He climbed back into the car, never taking his eyes off of her. Something happened in the Netherlands, that much was clear. Charles just didn't know what.

And it was scaring him.

Charles carried her bags for her. She didn't offer to take them off of him as they rode the elevator up to her floor. As they walked down the hall, she dug through the bag hanging from Charles's shoulder, fishing from her keys.

She hadn't missed her apartment for the week that she'd been at the Verstappen stronghold. How could she, when she had Max sneaking into her bed each night? It wasn't for sex, that wasn't why Max was pushing open her door and crawling into bed beside her.

No, he'd wanted to keep her safe. That was why he'd crawled into the bed and pulled her close. The fact that it led to her beneath him was just a bonus.

"Do you wanna get dinner?" Charles asked as he dropped her bags into her room.

Bunny shook her head as she opened the balcony and stepped out. Her view was so pretty, one she'd never get bored of. The bustling streets below, the yachts and the ocean. It was so gorgeous, even if the thought of stepping foot on a yacht made her a little sick.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" He asked from the balcony door.

Bunny nodded. She'd never nodded before, never wanted Charles to leave her alone. But she was a grown woman, she could be alone if she wanted to be. Still, Charles stood in the balcony doorway for just a moment longer, giving her a chance to change her mind.

She didn't change her mind.

"Okay, Bun," he said and turned around. He pulled his keys from his pocket as he left, locking her in her apartment. (Well, I say locking her in, but she had a key of her own. She could get out if she wanted to).

Things weren't right between Charles and Bunny. It had been a week since she'd last laughed at him. All she wanted to do was be alone now, texting on that damn phone.

Part of Charles wanted to take the phone off of her. But she was a grown woman. He couldn't baby her like that.

Max was coming to Monaco. He was actually coming back to Monaco!

Bunny didn't mean to let it affect her relationship with Max, of course she didn't. But being aloof with him was easier than having to sneak out of the apartment. Charles was leaving her alone more and more, not quite realising how much he was releasing the reins.

She didn't have to sneak out when she went to meet Max. No, she simply strolled out of her apartment and made her way to where she had arranged to meet Max.

She didn't know that Charles and Arthur had installed a motion camera outside of her door. It pinged, alerting both of their phones. But that wasn't unusual. There were so many different people walking past the apartment that Charles had stopped bothering to check. She knew better than to leave the apartment without one of them.

Arthur didn't trust her quite as much. Not recently, at least. That was what had him reaching for his phone and checking the motion camera.

Fuck, where the hell was she going?

Pulling on his nearest pair of shoes, Arthur chased after her.

She waited under the cover of the trees, across the road from the café where she and Max first met. Her heart was thumping in her chest, excitement coursing her veins. Everybody that walked past the trees, she was looking at them all, looking for Max.

She hadn't even seen him approach, too busy looking in the order direction for him.

"Hi, Angel," he whispered.

She couldn't stop herself from throwing her arms around him. "Maxie," she whispered, face buried against his neck, leaving kisses on his skin as he squeezed her hips.

"Fuck, I missed you," he mumbled as his hands travelled up from her hips, settling on her back.

Max kissed her. Pushed her back against the tree as his lips slotted against her own. He didn't push it any further than that, not out here in the open. It didn't matter if his Angel wanted her to, he was going to get her somewhere safe and comfortable first.

He pushed away and slotted his hand into her own. "C'mon, let me show you my place," he said and took one step.

But then he spotted shoes, one of her laces untied. Immediately Max was on his knee, tying her lace for her. Her fingers moved through his hair, making it hard to concentrate on such a simple task.

"Thank you, Maxie," she whispered and his looked up.

From his angle on his knees, he could see everything. He hadn't meant to look up her skirt, but her lack of underwear had him failing to meet her eyes for just a moment. "Fuck, Angel," he hissed as he stood up straight. "You're so fucking dirty." He took her hand and pulled her away, as quickly as he could. Desperate to get her home.

And Arthur Leclerc saw the entire thing.

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#max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x you #mv1 #mv1 imagine #mv1 x reader #mv33 #mv33 imagine #mv33 x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #mafia!f1 #mafia!au

[omitea]

KISS ME MORE .ᐟ

❥. ft. highschool! g. satoru

╰┈➤. it was quite shocking to find out that satoru hasn’t had his first kiss yet. but luckily for him, you’re happy to be his first.

❥. content. bsf! gojo, fluff, he’s down bad, awkward satoru, kissing, f! reader. pretty rushed if u couldn’t tell.

❥. note. yes. im posting this again. this sucks, apologies.

truth to be told, you couldn't believe the words that left his throat. the sound of his voice now distant as that particular sentence ran through your mind. you shifted your weight on his bed, looking dumbfounded. "wait, really..?" you questioned.

you were too engulfed in the sudden confession to notice the slight furrow of his brows, along with a small pout on his glossy lips. satoru shrugged his shoulders and dragged his lanky body towards the edge of the bed before mumbling a soft, "why are you so surprised?”

his eyes were casted downwards behind his glasses, and you knew him too well to know that he was trying to hide his embarrassment.

with a small sigh, you started nudging his back with your sock cladded foot. "it's just that you often brag about your interactions with girls, you know," you started. "but there's nothing wrong with that, toru.”

you were only met with silence, so you took that as your queue to sit beside him. you placed a hand on his thigh and patted it softly. "talk to me, please?" you whined. it would pretty much be an understatement if you'd say you didn't internally cringe at the desperation seeping through.

satoru cleared his throat and finally took his glasses off to look at you. the pout was still evident on his lips and a dust of pink adorned his soft cheeks. he looked adorable but slightly uncomfortable at the same time. "can you keep this between us, please? " he groaned — eyes traveling towards the curve of your lips.

a roll of his eyes was enough to have the giggles erupt from your chest. how can you be so cruel and laugh at him while he's feeling so miserable.

"when have your secrets ever escaped the walls of this room?" you scoffed. he only responded with a throaty hum and soon enough, the quiet ambience draped over you both like a heavy blanket. it wasn't awkward, the only sound being your breathing and the padding of your feet against the wooden floor. and before you could process it, the offer flew past your tongue.

"how about i be the first one you’ve ever kissed?"

sator coughed obnoxiously- chest heaving up and down as he tried to control the rapid beating of his heart. the palms of his hands starting to feel sweaty. yes, he thought you were attractive on multiple occasions, but he didn't think much of it. you were just a friend that's always been there for him. nothing else...

"huh, what." he trailed off, bright blue eyes searching for your own. in need to find something hidden behind them. to tell him that you're obviously joking. but he finds nothing but pure intention in your gaze. the small grin you sent his way, was enough to make him jump up from where he was seated. "i’m fine," he huffed and crossed his arms against his chest.

but the blush that was still there on his cheeks said otherwise. you hummed and laid back down on the mattress, sighing in content as your head rested on his satin pillow. just enough to make you take a nap right there and then. you closed your eyes for a brief moment before you felt the bed dip. you could hear his heavy breathing, as if he had just ran a marathon. “are you doing okay?" you asked, opening your eyes to look up at him.

he was nervous. you could tell by the way he was fidgeting with his slender fingers. with a slight nod, he meekly replied, "does...that offer still stand?"

your lips started to twitch, daring the corners to tilt and shape into a mischievous grin. and you're proud to say that you've seen this coming. if there's a chance, he will definitely take it. "oh?,”you teased— eyebrow raising as you propped yourself up on your elbows. "thought you said you were all fine by yourself?"

the slight flaring of his nose made it hard to contain the snort that was being held in for way too long. with an amused sigh, you finally sat up to rest against his headboard— hand moving swiftly to beckon him over. it was kind of cute with the way he didn't hesitate to move closer; almost like a puppy in desperation of a treat.

"are you sure you want your first kiss to be with me, "toru?" at that, he frantically nodded before deciding on a small "yes." his hands felt clammy as he tugged on the fabric of his sweatpants in anticipation. sure, there were moments where he got excited when he got confessed to, but nothing could've prepared him for what was finally about to happen.

"don't think too much during the kiss," you uttered in a soft tone, "just go along with it and we'll see how it goes from there."

satoru's eyes darted from yours to your lips before settling on your eyes again. they looked so soft and sweet. he couldn't wait to savor the taste. "c'mere," you motioned, placing a hand on his cheek. you were so close, he swore he could count every mole that littered your skin.

the feeling of his lashes brushing your cheek felt like a feather leaving tingles along the way. and with a slight tilt of your head, you finally closed the gap between you both. eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his soft lips. a shuddered breath left his nose while his hand traveled towards the nape of your neck. it started off clumsily, but it was better than you could have predicted. satoru was a fast learner, in almost everything he took part in. the clashing of teeth in the beginning was long forgotten once he got the hang of it.

with a better angle, he deepened the kiss and taking full control only to leave you to try and catch up. it wasn't rushed, just the right pace. you were skeptical about it being the first time for him. it felt like he had some pretty good experience beforehand.

what you didn't expect, was for him to softly tug your bottom lip between his teeth. your hand nestled in his hair, combing your fingers through the white strands. he gently started nibbling till he could feel your swollen lips against his. the breathy groan that escaped his throat was enough for you to pull away.

hair tousled and cheeks flushed, trying his hard to catch his breath. his tongue poked out, sliding across his bottom lip. he could still feel the lingering taste of your chapstick and seeing your mixed saliva on your lips, only made him want to kiss you more and hard.

millions of thoughts ran through your mind. trying to comprehend how this could be his first time kissing someone. must he be good at everything?

"you're a liar, satoru gojo." you pointed an accusing finger at him. "you know i hate liars."

his eyebrows shot up in confusion, mouth agape as he stared obliviously, "what do you mean?"

with a harsh roll of your eyes, you added," you obviously lied about not kissing someone before. what else could i possibly mean?"

"huh? i'm not lying, pinky promise!"

you scoffed, eyeing him up and down skeptically.

"did you practice with your poster or something?" you sure hope not.

a beat of silence was all you needed to know that he did in fact, practice with his poster. your face morphed into one of sheer horror. the thought alone made you shake your head, trying to get rid of the image of him slobbering against a piece of paper.

"please tell me it wasn’t with that old thing." you pointed with your chin behind him, where an old, winkled poster was taped against the wall.

an awkward chuckle was all he could muster, before grabbing your hand in his. "don't tell suguru or shoko, please," he begged— big blue eyes staring in your soul. "they wouldn't let me live this down."

you hummed in thought, "under one condition, though." satoru squeezed your hand to let you know he was listening. " i want one more kiss."

the sentence barely escaped your lips before he captured them again. this time more confidently and deeply as if he was longing for them. eagerly swallowing every pretty sound daring to slip through.

satoru thinks he should kiss you more often, as long as you choose to keep his secret between the very own walls you have your make out sessions in.

©𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐀. please refrain from stealing my works !

#—sinnie posts ♡ #☆ —jjk! #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #jjk x reader fluff #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojo x reader fluff #gojo satoru fluff #gojo fluff

[metalmonki]

A Well Kept Secret Part 2

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

1.8k word count

Summary You and Spencer have been in a secret relationship for a year. When you unexpectedly become pregnant it becomes harder to keep that secret.

fluff

Warnings mention of cheating while drunk.

Part 1

Six and a half months had crawled by since the life-altering night. Exhaustion clung to you like a second skin, your belly a growing testament to the little miracle nestled within. Today was the day you were finally going on leave, a bittersweet escape from the whirlwind of the BAU. No one knew the true story of the baby's father, a secret that gnawed at your conscience with every passing day.

Spencer had been a constant source of support, his gentle nature a balm to the storm brewing inside you. You'd even discussed godparents, a picture-perfect tableau of the BAU family surrounding your child.

"So how are you feeling?" Hotch asked as you lumbered into the office, the weight of the baby making every step a conscious effort.

"Fat and tired, but okay," You replied, managing a weak smile.

"How much longer will you be with us?" he inquired.

"Just here to pick up some things, then I'm heading home," You explained.

"Did you drive yourself?" he asked, a furrow appearing in his brow.

"No, Spencer dropped me off," You replied, your stomach clenching at the thought of the conversation that loomed.

"Well, get him to drive your home, then tell him he can have the day off too," Hotch said with a rare smile.

"Thanks, Hotch. See you when I get back, I guess," You shrugged.

Gathering your belongings felt like an eternity, each familiar object a reminder of the life you were leaving behind, at least temporarily. Stepping back out into the crisp morning air, you found Spencer waiting by the car.

"Ready to go home?" You asked, the words heavy on your tongue.

"Let's get you settled in, then I'll get back to work," he replied, his voice neutral.

The ride home was a tense symphony of silence. Every stolen glance at Spencer revealed a growing distance, a hurt you understood all too well. You kept your eyes glued to the ever-expanding landscape, the weight of your secret threatening to crush you.

Reaching the house, you managed to drag a box inside before collapsing onto the couch, the familiar ache in your back a dull throb. Spencer entered a few moments later, placing a bowl of popcorn and two drinks on the coffee table before settling the DVD player.

"What are you doing?" You finally managed, surprised by the sudden break in the tension.

"Well, if we both have the day off, why not spend it together before the baby comes?" he offered, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

Relief flooded you, warm and welcome. "Good idea," You whispered, scooting across the couch to lean against him.

"There's something I've been wanting to talk about," You began, your voice barely above a whisper.

"What is it?" he asked, his gaze holding yours.

"It's about the baby's father," You confessed, bracing yourself for the storm that might follow.

"I thought I was the father," he said, his voice betraying a flicker of uncertainty.

"You were," you stammered, "but there's something you need to know..."

The words caught in your throat, the memory a bitter pill to swallow. Taking a deep breath, you blurted out, "There was someone else."

"I don't know," you choked out, tears welling in your eyes. "The night we were together, I...I had a little too much to drink, and then the next morning..." Your voice trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, the memory a blur of self-loathing.

Spencer stood abruptly, his entire body radiating anger and hurt. The air crackled with unspoken accusations. "So, you're saying the baby could be Morgan's?"

"I don't know," you repeated, tears spilling down your cheeks now. "The timing just…lines up with that night. But you're the one I wanted, Spencer. You're the one I..." Your voice broke, unable to express the depth of your feelings or the regret that gnawed at you.

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. You both knew the implications. The life you'd envisioned, the little family you were building – it all hung precariously in the balance.

He stood abruptly, his entire body radiating anger and hurt. "We need to get this figured out."

Relief warred with fear in your chest. At least he wasn't walking out. "I thought maybe a paternity test…"

"Yeah," he snapped, his voice tight. "Let's do it."

The drive to the clinic was a blur. Neither of you spoke, the unspoken questions hanging heavy in the air. The sterile atmosphere of the clinic did little to ease your anxiety. Spencer held your hand silently as the nurse drew blood, his grip tight enough to leave white marks on your skin.

"How long will it take to get the results?" Spencer finally asked, breaking the tense silence.

The nurse glanced at a chart on the wall. "Typically, paternity tests take about a week to come back," she explained. "We'll call you as soon as we have them."

A week. Seven days stretched before you, an agonizing limbo. The weight of the unknown settled in your chest, a leaden companion. Looking at Spencer, you saw a similar worry etched on his face.

"What are we going to do until then?" you asked, the question barely a whisper.

He squeezed your hand, a silent reassurance. "We wait," he said, his voice gruff but determined. "And we try to focus on the good news, no matter what the results are."

"The good news?" you echoed, a flicker of hope igniting in your chest.

He offered a strained smile. "That you're finally on maternity leave, and we have a little miracle on the way, one way or another."

The forced cheer in his voice couldn't quite mask the underlying tension. You both knew the good news could turn sour depending on the test results. But for now, you clung to that fragile hope, a lifeline in the storm of uncertainty.

The following days were a blur. The house felt suffocating, the silence punctuated only by the tick of the clock. Every ring of the phone sent your heart racing, only to plummet when it wasn't the clinic. Spencer tried to maintain a semblance of normalcy, even taking a rare day off work to keep you company.

One afternoon, while flipping through baby magazines, you stumbled upon a section on twins. Double the bottles, double the diapers, double the trouble. A nervous laugh escaped your lips. The possibility of twins, once a distant thought, now loomed large, a complication layered on top of the paternity question.

Looking up, you saw Spencer watching you, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Thinking about double trouble?" he asked.

You managed a weak smile. "The doctor mentioned it as a possibility, didn't she?"

He nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Maybe that explains why you've been so exhausted lately."

His words brought a faint blush to your cheeks. The exhaustion was real, but so was the constant worry gnawing at you. You both knew the weight of the wait, the unspoken fear that hung heavy in the air. But for now, in the face of uncertainty, you clung to the possibility of a future, a future with a baby, or maybe even two, on the way.

You'd watch movies, fold tiny baby clothes, and talk about nursery paint colours, all the while a dark cloud of uncertainty hung over you.

One afternoon, while attempting to assemble a ridiculously complicated crib (courtesy of Rossi's overenthusiastic gift-giving), the phone rang. Spencer, closer to the receiver, snatched it up with a speed that belied his usual composure.

"Hello?" he answered, his voice tight. A beat of silence followed, then a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Yes, this is SSA Spencer Reid. Yes, I've been expecting your call."

Your breath hitched in your throat. The crib parts clattered to the floor as you scrambled to his side, your gaze locked on his face. He listened intently, nodding occasionally, before finally murmuring, "Thank you. We'll be there shortly."

He hung up the phone, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, they were a stormy gray, reflecting the turmoil within him. Then, a slow smile spread across his face, a smile that reached his eyes and banished the shadows.

"We need to get going," he said, his voice surprisingly calm.

"The results?" you stammered, your voice thick with anticipation.

He took your hand, his grip firm but gentle. "The good news, the bad news, or both? We'll find out at the clinic."

The car ride was a tense dance of silence and stolen glances. Your mind raced with possibilities; each one tinged with a sliver of fear. Would the results confirm your worst nightmare, shattering the fragile hope you'd built? Or would they clear the air, allowing you to move forward with a future you could finally embrace?

Pulling into the familiar parking lot of the clinic, you felt a wave of nausea wash over you. Spencer squeezed your hand reassuringly, his silent support the only anchor in the storm of emotions threatening to engulf you.

You walked into the clinic hand-in-hand, a united front despite the uncertainty gnawing at you. The receptionist, recognizing you, offered a sympathetic smile. "Dr. Lee will see you now," she said, her voice gentle.

Following the nurse down a sterile hallway, you entered the doctor's office. Dr. Lee, a woman with kind eyes and a calming demeanour, greeted you warmly. "Please, have a seat," she said, gesturing towards two chairs in front of her desk.

You sat, the silence deafening. Dr. Lee placed a file on the desk and took a deep breath. "I'm happy to report that we have the results of your paternity test, Mr. Reid. Okay, so do you want the good news or the bad news first?" the doctor asked, a small smile playing on her lips.

"The good news," you squeaked out, your voice barely audible.

"Spencer's the father," the doctor announced with a warm smile.

A wave of relief washed over you, so intense it almost knocked you off your feet. Spencer, however, remained silent, his expression unreadable.

"And the bad news?" he finally inquired; his voice low.

"It's twins," the doctor replied, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Your jaw dropped. Twins? That would explain the constant exhaustion and the way your clothes seemed to be shrinking daily. Looking at Spencer, you saw a mixture of shock and a hint of amusement flicker across his face.

"Well, that explains a lot," you finally managed, a shaky laugh escaping your lips.

"Double trouble," the doctor chuckled, her eyes twinkling.

Spencer chuckled too; the sound rough around the edges. Then, in a gesture that surprised you, he reached out and took your hand in his. "You got that right," he said, a newfound determination in his voice. "We can do this, together."

Leaving the clinic, hand in hand, the weight of the secret lifted. You were the happy (albeit slightly terrified) parents of twins, a future both daunting and exhilarating. There was still a lot to work through, the memory of Morgan a lingering shadow. But for now, the knowledge that Spencer was by your side, ready to face whatever came, was all the comfort you needed.

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #dr spencer reid

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 11)

When N entered Uzi's room what he was expecting to see was her sitting on the bed, annoyed with him for taking so long talking with her dad, or even practicing lightly with the solver out of boredom.

What he was not expecting was the absence of her beanie and her hoodie, leaving her in only her purple undershirt, and her wings and arms stretched up, her tail stiff and straight.

N felt his internal temperature skyrocket and a golden blush consume his face. Should he leave? He was probably not supposed to see this, when the hell had she gotten so attractive?!

“There you are! What did my dad want?” She turned to him before looking confused at his flustered face and looking down at herself.

A small blush crept up to her visor. She hadn't done this on purpose, she'd just thought she'd overheat less if she'd ditch the beanie/hoodie combo. Plus the fleshy parts of her tended to itch if left unused for too long, so a good stretch was needed every now and then.

She tried not to read too much into it, it had probably just startled him, seeing her like this as soon as he walked in.

“Uh, I can put them away?” She quickly willed away her wings and tail as they tucked away back into her chassis, the first time it had felt odd, now though she was used to it.

“I-it was fine! Just uh… didn't expect it is all.”

See?

“What did dad want?” She asked again, putting a hand on her hip. N refused to look anywhere but her face, crap crap crap crap!

“He uh, knows about Tera.” He admitted, taking the chance to look away and gather himself. It’s Uzi! Stop being a creepy weirdo who stares!

“Seriously?! Aw man I thought I was keeping it from him pretty well.” She crossed her arms, looking upset.

“Was that it? You were out there awhile.”

“He asked if I wanted to adopt her.” N replied, that prospect still hanging in his mind even now. He wasn't the best choice for it, there would be so many more better options then the murder drone who lived in a pile of corpses. Tera deserved to have a normal upbringing, something he couldn't give even if he wanted to.

And a part of him did really want to.

Uzi went silent, something he only noticed because he'd expected some sort of reply like: “oh that was a dumb question, you're like 19.” Instead she looked like she was deliberating something.

“I mean… we're kids. And I live with my dad and you live in a mass grave. I don't know why he even thought that.” Ah there it was.

“But I can't lie… I'd thought about it.” She admitted, looking sheepish. That made him jump, he wasn't expecting her to even entertain the idea. Much less give it that same amount of thought he did.

“Just as a hypothetical!” She quickly added, a voilet blush on her face. She rubbed her shoulders and looked away before starting again.

“There are so many better options than me. I… don't know if I'd be a good parent. It's not like I had much of an example.”

“I live… in a pile of corpses. I grew up in a manor where every minor mistake could get me killed. I didn't have parents… unless you count Tessa. But she was just a kid too…”

They were both quiet, not knowing how to continue the conversation without it turning even more depressing.

“I think you'd be a good dad.” She said softly, unsure but absolutely genuine. “Maybe not… like right now. I think we're both in agreement Tera needs more than you or me…But, if you want them eventually.” Why was she blushing? She was just trying to make him feel better, not offering to have his damn kids.

Although… No! don't you even think about it!

“I think you'd be a good mom too.” He replied, equally as soft and unsure, “You're really good with Tera. And I saw you making silly faces at her this morning.”

If anything she blushed harder, both at that he'd noticed and at the compliment. She wasn't sure how to take that, but she felt warm and fuzzy anyway.

“Bite me…” She mumbled, making him laugh. That usually signified she was done with the conversation. He was fine with that, considering how warm it had gotten him. He wasn't sure how to take her compliment either, but it still gave him butterflies.

“You wanted to practice right? Did you have an idea on where to start or…?” He blessedly changed the subject, thank Robo-God, she didn't know how much longer she could think about Dad N without melting into an embarrassed puddle.

“I got a bunch of pens from J’s nest. I was going to try and work on duplicating them.” She showed off a handful of pens that she'd gotten from her bag, N smirked.

“You stole them?”

“She's dead!”

“Stealing from the dead is worse!”

“Bite me! I do what I want!”

They both dissolved into laughter, nerves disappearing as they settled back into what felt natural for them, N felt a warm smile fix on his face and couldn't make it leave, this was better than being nervous by a long shot. Just the two of them, being goofy idiots.

And so that's what they did, N watching as she used the solver on each individual pen, spining it, making it float, before attempting to duplicate them like Doll had done with her knives.

The first two broke in half, spilling their contents out onto the floor (and themselves). The third one exploded, showering everything in plastic shrapnel and ink and making them both jump before they laughed at each other's startle.

Her visor beeped, telling her that her temperature was rising, and she took a deep swig of the large container of oil sitting between them. Wiping off what was left in her hand before turning her attention back to what she was doing.

He saw her fangs glisten for a moment, and something in him jumped before he settled it back down. Right, she has fangs now. She was more like him and V now then her fellow worker drones, her need for oil and her wings and tail both copied theirs almost identically, even her tail had a venom similar to their nanite acid, only less nanite and more just acid.

On the fifth one N was less focused on what the pen was doing and more on Uzi, one eye bright with the solver symbol and the other in deep concentration, her tongue out again and her eye squinted, keeping all of her focus on the currently spinning pen.

He was still concerned, he knew Uzi was strong on her own. And that her mastery of this was a good thing. But these powers were the same as Cyn’s, his little sisters. The same one who murdered an entire gala with it.

The Cyn he knew wouldn't have ever done that, she had been the sweetest little girl he'd ever known. She was strange yes, with her partly broken voice box and motor control issues. But not murderous.

Had the solver caused that change? Or had it been the Elliots abuse of her, of all of them, that had finally caused her to snap? He didn't know, after the gala, all of his memories consisted of blurry nothing, punctuated by the taste of iron in his mouth.

“Oh come on!” Uzi let out a sound of frustration, and N was brought back into the moment, there were several more destroyed pens laying about. And clearly she'd begun to get impatient, she held the arm using the solver with her other one.

“Hey now, don't try and force it.” He tried to calm her, hand resting on her shoulder before she swatted him away, looking more determined than ever, it stung in his core a little, but he shook it off. This was just how Uzi was, determined, if nothing else.

“Doll made it look so easy! She just flicked her wrist and boom knives.” She grumbled, taking another gulp of oil and finding another pen, which she flicked into the air effortlessly with her solver.

“We don't know how long Doll had those powers. She may have years ahead of you.” He replied, getting more concerned when he saw the digital sweat begin to drop in her visor.

“Which is exactly why I need this. What if we get into another fight with her? I can't just be throwing pens at her!” Her frustration was only growing, her visor beeped again, telling her her temperature was rising, but she didn't seem to notice, too focused on trying to duplicate the pen.

“I'll be there to protect us!”

“But who's going to protect you N?! Not V if she gets incapacitated! I n-need to be able to do this!” Her breaths turned to pants and her visor beeped again more frantically, telling her she was beginning to overheat, this time she did notice. But didn't care.

“Just… one more try.” She spun the pen, clearly straining, and flicked her wrist.

The pen vibrated, slowly getting faster as it seemed to reach it's peak. Uzi made a noise of strain, as if something inside of her chassis was vibrating as well.

Then two more pens popped out of the sides, spinning in place along with the original.

“I did it! N! I did it!” She squealed happily, jumping once for joy before her solver turned a vibrant gold.

She gasped. Before there was the sound of shattering glass and she suddenly doubled over, all three pens falling to the floor.

“Uzi?!” He was immediately at her side, touching her back before ripping his hand away. She was boiling.

“Ah…n….wha?” Her voice box glitched heavily, sounding like it was coming through miles of white noise. N crouched down and lifted her up before his eyes hollowed and all the oil in him turned to ice.

Her visor had shattered, the source being a massive hole where her solver eye would normally appear, oil poured from it openly, her other eye looking terrified out of her mind. Her breathing was erratic, her hand trying it's best to staunch the oil flow from her visor.

“Uzi!” His hand was bigger and did the job much better than just her own when he laid it over hers, she whimpered, instinctually gripping his coat as her other eye squeezed shut.

Already it was repairing itself, small puffs of smoke coming off from where her solver sealed the wound shut, he slowly took her hand away along with his own as the repairs got closer, until her visor was fixed and he was gripping her hand as tightly as she was gripping him, and he didn't care if the heat radiating off her hand was going to make his plating warp.

Her purple eye flickered back into place and she let out a shuddering breath, one of his hands found the oil container and brought it to her mouth. He all but made her down it, all of it. Until she was trying to cough some of it back up.

The steam wafting up from under her chassis slowly faded, but they stayed in silence, processing what the actual hell just happened.

N pulled her into a hug. His breathing sounding like he'd just run a marathon and his core running similarly.

“Don't you ever do that again.” Was the first thing out of his mouth, sounding deadly serious. His hand combed through her hair as he felt her core running as hard as it would go, he felt her nod quickly but wordlessly.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry…” She gasped out, holding him tightly, using the fur of his coat as a pillow.

“You didn't do anything wrong… you just scared me…” He replied, answering her affection with more of his own, resting his head upon hers, completely enveloping her as if he could protect her from herself.

“I ignored the warnings. My fault.”

“Not your fault. You got excited.”

“It's still-”

“No It's not.”

All she did was embrace him even tighter. His tail wrapped around her and he closed his eyes, trying to steady his core. She's okay, it's fine, you're fine.

He looked back at the pens she duplicated as if they would somehow come alive and harm her or both of them. But they just continued to sit there, just as normal as any other pen.

“N…?” His head flicked back to face her, she was blushing heavily and looking down at the floor.

“Yeah? You good?” He asked quickly. Hands traveling down from her shoulders to her hands, clasping them gently.

“T-thank you.” She choked out, obviously still shaken up by what just happened. “For like… everything.” She finished, squeezing one of his hands slightly tighter.

“Always.”

#biscuitbites #murder drones #murder drones uzi #md uzi #murder drones n #nuzi #uzi doorman #md n #murder drones nuzi #n and uzi #serial designation n #the plot is plotting #suffering builds character #and they suffer #they both need therapy

[doomhands-jr]

The Devil's Advocate - Chapter 2

Noah Sebastian X Reader

Noah is a delinquent with a lot of anger at the church. You're a pastor's daughter charged with overseeing community service. Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Masterlist _______

“What’s up with you?” Madison asked, punctuating it with a nibble to Noah’s earlobe.

“Nothing,” said Noah.

Madison huffed and moved so she was straddling Noah’s lap. She took his hands in hers and placed them on her breasts. By now, Noah was well aware that she enhanced her size with a generous array of push-up bras, but even without them, she was chesty.

Usually, he liked when she took control, but he couldn’t seem to get his head in the game.

“Put your mouth on them,” she commanded, and he did as he was told, enveloping one of her nipples in between his lips and sucking. She let her head fall back, exposing her neck, and Noah, to his credit, went through the motions. He clutched the front of her neck, digging his nails in the way he knew she liked and she let out a moan that he could tell was played up for any eavesdroppers in the hallway.

“Smack my ass,” she whispered, and he did, letting out a groan when she replied to his actions by grinding her hips down on his. The groan was for show. He felt nothing, which she soon discovered once she unzipped his fly with her grabby hands.

“Are you not into this?” she asked with a tone of accusation. As if she somehow couldn’t fathom a man not being immediately turned on by anything she did.

Noah shrugged. “Not really.”

She scoffed and clambered off of him, searching the room for wherever she had flung the top half of her outfit in her coked-up frenzy.

“I’m gonna go find Folio.”

“Be my guest,” he said and gestured to the door, which she promptly stormed out of.

Noah sighed and leaned back on the couch. He checked his phone. It was 11 PM. The party had only been going on for a little over an hour and he was already over it.

Fetching his shirt from the floor, he threw it back on, zipped up his jeans, and made his way back out into the crowd of people now gathered around his friend Ruffilo, who was performing a keg stand.

He held out for longer than Noah anticipated, but when the guys holding him finally let him down, he lost his balance and stumbled drunkenly into the kitchen counter.

The crowd that had gathered around him applauded, and when he finally regained his balance, he threw up his fist in celebration.

Noah couldn’t help but feel affection for his friend in that moment. Ruffilo and Noah had both had a rough upbringing coming from the same small drug-ridden town. They’d grown up in the same trailer park and had banded together early on. Frankly, it was a miracle that they escaped without addictions, considering how the odds had been stacked against them.

Not that he had very much going for him at the moment. They booked a few shows here and there, but aside from that he spent most of his time running a steel lathe at the local precision manufacturing plant. When he wasn’t doing that, he was blowing off steam at Jolly’s parties.

“Did you see that?!” his friend slurred, throwing an arm around Noah’s shoulders and resting most of his body weight on him.

“I did. That must have been a record for you,” Noah replied.

“Had to be over a minute, at least.” Nick laughed through his words and Noah couldn’t help but share in his friend’s joy, trying to push away the sneaking suspicion that partying and drunken hookups were no longer enough to keep him satisfied.

“Where’s Madison?”

“Probably with Nick,” said Noah. He looked around the room, and surely enough, he had her on his lap, sharing a joint with her.

“What happened, man? I thought you locked that down.”

Noah shrugged. “Listen, I think I’m gonna head out.”

“That’s two weeks in a row you’ve bailed early. What’s up with you?”

“Just not feeling it,” Noah replied.

“You’ll make it home okay?” he asked, hazy eyes clearing for a moment in his earnestness. Noah softened and offered a reassuring smile.

“Promise. Go have fun. I have an early morning tomorrow, anyway.”

“Damn, I forgot you were doing that.”

“Yeah. I don’t want to be hungover for it, so I should head out.”

“Take it easy, man.” His friend clapped him on the shoulder affectionately before making his way back into the crowd.

Noah quickly left the party, lighting up a joint for his walk home. It was cold, but after the humid fog of smoke and sweat that had built up in the house, the fresh air was welcome.

He was listless, he realized, and probably understimulated. The factory didn’t pay well and he had no other career prospects. There was no way he could afford college and his high school GPA wasn’t enough to get him accepted to any even if he found financial aid. If things didn’t work out with his band, he was looking at a lifetime of mediocrity.

His thoughts drifted to you.

You were probably busy studying. Surely you attended the university and probably majored in something like literature or early childhood education. He wouldn’t put it past you to get all your homework done on Friday so that you could spend the weekend relaxing.

Your parents were probably still married. And you called them at least once a week to catch up. They likely made enough money that you could afford school without a scholarship, and he was willing to bet you already knew what you wanted to do with your life. You were self-assured and decisive. And though you were sheltered, you probably still had a better chance at success than he ever would.

He took another drag and flicked the half-spent joint into the nearby bushes before breaking out into a jog. He was stressed, and he needed an outlet, and the only thing available to him at the moment was to physically expend as much energy as possible or else he’d wind up punching a mailbox.

_________

“Head’s up. Nick’s in a mood today.”

“Oh,” you said, noting their time of arrival. 8:09, but you marked them both as on time. “Any idea why?”

“He’s hungover. And he struck out with the girl he was trying to get with last night so his pride is damaged.”

“Dang. What about you?” you asked. “Any luck with the ladies?”

“I don’t need luck,” he said. He held a stern expression, maintaining eye contact with you and you were caught off-guard, until he cracked a smile and you relaxed. He had you going for a second, thinking you’d somehow offended him by questioning his prowess.

“Any hangover?” you asked.

“I didn’t drink last night.”

“Oh?” you said, both impressed and surprised.

“Don’t get too excited,” he said, smile still softening his features. “I’m not turning from my sinful ways. I just don’t want community service to be more miserable than it has to be.”

“Sounds like a step in the right direction to me.”

Noah rolled his eyes and headed to the supply closet to get started on the long list of chores that needed completed. Nick had gone to the bathroom when they first arrived and hadn’t returned yet.

“Windows first?” Noah called out from the back of the room.

“Yeah!”

He walked back in holding the bottle of window cleaner and casually flung the rag over his shoulder.

“You’re in a suspiciously good mood,” you observed.

Noah began spraying the nearest window down and wiping it with the rag. You studied him as he worked, noticing just how much of his skin was covered in ink. He moved casually and with confidence, each of the muscles working in perfect harmony with each other. He carried no tension anywhere in his body.

“I like grunt work,” he admitted.

“I’ve never heard of anyone who liked grunt work.”

“Didn’t your Christ like grunt work?” he asked, amused. “I think I remember something about him wanting to be a humble servant.”

“Huh,” you said, taken aback, “come to think if it, yeah.”

“You seem surprised.”

You continued to watch him as he moved to the next window, finding interest in the movement of his shoulders.

“I didn’t expect you to be so Christ-like.”

He smiled to himself. You caught the reflection of it in the window he was working on.

“I don’t do it because some historical religious figure that may or may not have existed said to,” he said. “I do it because it feels good.”

“Still,” you said. “you’d make a better Christian than a lot of our congregation.”

He laughed. “I went to church until I was 14.”

So far, this was the most personal detail he’d revealed to you. While Nick was an open book, you’d always observed Noah to be guarded. He’d speak, but not about himself, and it was always hard to get a read on him. Perhaps that was on purpose, or perhaps it was just safest for him, but having this little bit of context felt like he was offering you a gift. A small bit of insight into who he was.

“Can I ask what happened?”

“You can ask,” he said, “but I probably won’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s private.”

“Anything terrible?” you pressed. It had to have been significant for him to have so much anger still.

“I’m not giving you anything else, so you may as well stop asking.”

“Fine,” you huffed. “But I still think you should give it another chance.” You followed him as he made his way over to the next set of windows.

“And why’s that?” he asked as he began spraying. Something about the way he stayed focused on his work and didn’t look at you made it easier for you to speak your mind.

“You like humble servitude.”

He chucked, low and soft. “People can be good people without being Christian.”

“But isn’t that like, the basis of Christianity?”

“I think you’re reading too deep into it. There are a lot of people who like humble work. It’s good for the body. It’s good for the mind. That’s reason enough to like it.”

You shrugged. “So, you’re saying it feels good to follow Christ’s teaching.”

Noah rolled his eyes. “That’s a stretch. Trust me. Your church doesn’t want me, and I don’t want them.”

“Windows again?” came Nick’s whiny voice from across the room. “God, can’t we do something more exciting?”

You and Noah locked eyes. “Told you,” he said under his breath.

“Like what?” you asked.

“I don’t know,” he said, plopping down in a pew. “What about raking leaves again? I liked that.”

“You can grab a rake if you want. I still think there are some leaves on the ground out there.”

“Pass,” he said, and you got the feeling he didn’t actually want solutions and just wanted to complain.

Across the room, the doors abruptly opened and a familiar white V-neck and beanie crossed the room, looking determined. He wore his usual relaxed jeans and Birkenstocks. The cut of his V-neck highlighted the cross necklace that dangled between his collar bones.

“Hey,” you said once he made a beeline over to you. “What brings you here?”

“I can’t find my pedal. Have you seen it?”

“No, but I can help you look.”

“That would be great, thanks,” he said and brushed past Nick and Noah without acknowledging them on his way to the stage. Which was a bit odd, in your opinion.

“Um,” you said, trying to diffuse the weirdness, “okay, so Noah, just keep doing what you’re doing, and Nick, try to find something productive to do if you can.” You could tell by their faces that they were both interested in who this standoffish newcomer was, but you decided that was best kept secret.

“It’s orange, right?” you asked Isaac, peering behind the keyboard and into the mess of wires connecting all the different instruments and auxiliary parts to the monitors.

“Yeah,” he said, scoping out the room. He didn’t seem to be searching all that hard. “So how’s community service going?”

“Good,” you said. “We’re making good progress.”

“They’re behaving for you?” he asked.

“Most of the time, yes.”

“The one looks like trouble,” he said, nodding over towards Noah. You knew what was going through his head. At first, Noah’s tattoos and cold disposition intimidated you, too. But for some reason, that same judgement bothered you more coming from Isaac.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Noah watching.

“You should be careful around them.” Isaac wasn’t bothering to monitor his volume, and you were sure both Noah and Nick could hear him. “They’re bad influences.”

“That seems pretty judgmental,” you said, crossing your arms, the search for his pedal all but forgotten.

Isaac rolled his eyes. “Come on, they’re criminals. You saw what they did to the worship center.”

“How’s it going over here?” Noah’s voice broke through the conversation. You hadn’t noticed his approach and it caught you by surprise.

“Good,” you said.

“Awesome. I’m Noah,” he said, extending his hand toward Isaac, who took note of all the ink covering it. Your throat tightened, already knowing the interaction was about to go poorly.

“Isaac,” he said, grabbing Noah’s hand and giving him a once-over. Noah had at least a good four inches of height over him and Isaac seemed to take his existence as a threat.

“Nice to meet you, Isaac.”

Noah’s face didn’t betray him, but you knew in your gut that he was putting two-and-two together based on the story you’d told him last week.

“Who is this?” said Nick, striding up to join the conversation. You bit the inside of your cheek. Your mediation skills were good, but you weren’t sure if you could fend off any potential conflict given how strong the three personalities before you were.

You bit the bullet and introduced them.

“Nick,” you said, forcing a polite smile, “this is Isaac. He plays guitar for the praise and worship band.”

You saw the slow realization dawn on him like a wave crossing over his features. His eyebrows lifted up towards his forehead, eyes widened, and mouth dropped open in that order before he composed himself.

“Isaac,” he said, grabbing the man’s hand and shaking it firmly. “Congrats, man. Wow, playing guitar for the worship band. That’s a great position. Really prestigious.” You could tell he was absolutely tickled by the opportunity to scope out the man he’d called a coward a week ago.

“Thanks,” said Isaac flatly, catching on to the fact that Nick was not actually impressed.

“Noah,” you said. “Why don’t you take Nick and get him started on raking? Once you’ve finished, you can dust.” Noah, to his credit, nodded and did his best to direct his friend towards the back of the facility.

“Anything for you, Mary,” Nick said softly, sly grin playing on the corner of his mouth.

“Mary?” asked Isaac.

“I’ll tell you later,” you said walking down the steps of the small stage. “Hey, I actually need to get back to overseeing this. I’ll catch up with you later? Hope you find your pedal.” You knew your words were coming out anxious and rushed, but you were desperate for this interaction to end.

“See you at church tomorrow?” he asked.

“Absolutely.”

“You know, I might join you guys,” called Nick as he was led away from the stage and into the hallway. “I’ve been thinking about giving my life to Christ!” he managed to spit out just before the door slammed shut.

You and Isaac fell into a tense silence. You focused on breathing in slowly through your nose, hoping to dispel some of the unease.

“So that’s who you’re spending your Saturdays with,” he said. It was an observation as well as a judgement, rather than a question.

“I know they’re not exactly the best company to keep,” you admitted. “But I think this is important for them.”

“I don’t like it,” he said, crossing his arms. “I’m gonna talk to your dad and see if he’ll let me take over.”

“No!” you said in a rush.

“Why not?” he asked.

“I just feel like you wouldn’t mesh well. They’d be too threatened by your,” you searched your brain to come up with a word that would suffice, “…masculinity.”

It felt gross coming out, but did the trick.

“Hm. Yeah, I could see how that might be a problem,” he said, immediately surrendering. It was a struggle not to roll your eyes.

“Listen, I think you better come back later for your pedal,” you said. “I know it doesn’t look good, but I have it under control. I need you to trust me.”

He looked at you warily. “You sure? You’re not going to be influenced?”

“Do you really think so little of me?”

“No,” he said. “I just…care about you is all.”

There was that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach again. Two weeks ago, hearing those words would have thrilled you. Why was it that they came as soon as your interest in him had begun to wane?

“Thank you,” you said. “But I’ve got this.”

He gave you one final nod of agreement before heading out the side door. Once he was gone, you sighed and sunk down to sit on the steps leading up to the stage. A moment later, Noah padded back into the room. He sat down next to you wordlessly and joined you in staring at the ground.

“So that’s Isaac,” you said eventually.

“Well, he seems great,” said Noah with mock enthusiasm. You glanced over at him and caught the cheeky grin he flashed. The tension diffused and you smiled back at him, soft laughter escaping.

“Sorry about Nick,” he said. “He can be a real jerk sometimes.”

“Sorry about Isaac,” you replied. “He can be closed-minded.”

He huffed in agreement. “I’m familiar with his type.”

“Did you run into that at your old church?” you asked. He leaned back so he could rest his upper body on the stage platform, long legs stretched out over the steps, tucking his palms underneath his head. On their own accord, your eyes scanned over his chest and triceps. If he caught you, he didn’t say anything.

“You could say that.”

“Noah,” you asked, watching him watch the ceiling above him. “Why did you leave the church?”

“You really want to know?” he asked, taking a break from staring at the light fixtures to meet your eyes. You nodded. He smirked to himself and went back to looking at the lights.

“They told me I couldn’t masturbate.”

You felt your jaw drop in real time.

“What?!” you said.

Soft laughter escaped from him. “I’m kidding. I mean, it was definitely one of the reasons, but that was the final straw for me.”

You said nothing, still in shock from his admission.

“This is why I wasn’t going to tell you,” he said. “I knew you’d be scandalized.”

“Just give me a second,” you said. “This is new territory for me.”

“They don’t talk much about that in Sunday School, I’m guessing?”

You swallowed thickly, mouth suddenly dry. “Not really.”

He laughed again. “That doesn’t surprise me. I’m gonna let you in on a little secret.” He turned to face you. “The church is full of shit, and they don’t know anything about what it means to live a good life. Especially when it comes to that kind of stuff.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

He sat up again. “I mean that they fuck a lot of people up without even realizing it. They talk about sex like it’s a bad thing that you should be ashamed of for wanting and try to make you feel awful about exploring you own body. Do you know what kinds of complexes that gives to a person? No wonder there’s so much sexual abuse happening in the church.”

“I think you lost me,” you said.

Noah sighed and collected himself. “Nobody should be made to feel ashamed of their own humanity. Or their body’s natural sexual response. When I was fourteen, my grandma caught me masturbating and sent me to confessional. I told the priest about it, and he called me a sinner and said I should never do it again. My grandma gave me all this shit about it being unclean and how I should be ashamed of myself for how little self-control I had.”

“Oh,” you said.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I was just a kid. I was going through puberty,” he said, emotion creeping into his voice. “I was discovering my body—something that’s normal and healthy for a kid of that age—and was made to feel like I was some kind of sick pervert for it. And I believed them at first, until it got to be too much.”

“What happened?” you asked.

“I met my friend Ruffilo. He hadn’t been raised in a church, and didn’t have any shame over his sexuality. And then I got tired of hating myself. Figured it was better for me to just hate the church instead. I moved out of my grandparents’ and in with Nick.”

“That Nick?” you gestured out the door to where the man in question was supposed to be raking leaves.

He shook his head. “Different Nick. Nick Ruffilo. That’s Nick Folio. Met him later.”  

“Sounds confusing,” you said.

“It can be.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” you said.

“I know it probably sounds silly to you, but it really fucked me up for a while.”

“It’s not silly.” You were unable to form a more sophisticated thought. Your brain was working on overdrive trying to process the information.

Unbeknownst to him, Noah’s story was eerily similar to your own, but you were still stuck in the guilt and shame, and it had never occurred to you that there might be something on the other side of that.

You’d masturbated before, but not much. And every time it had happened, you broke down in tears, asking God to forgive you because you were afraid you’d either be sent to hell, or God would punish you some other way for your lack of self-control, like not having a chance with Isaac.

The idea that you might not be a terrible and perverted person for having done it was new to you. And that it was something other people had trouble controlling as well. You just assumed you were uniquely bad.

“There was a lot more that went into me leaving the church, but that was the nail in the coffin. I’d been on my way out for a while before then.”

“I guess that explains some of your anger,” you said, wanting to ask him more about what happened, but not wanting to press him too much. He was still a private person, and you were lucky to have gotten that much out of him.

“What I can’t understand is how I seem to be the only one who’s angry.”

“I don’t think you’re the only one,” you said, suddenly noticing how you and Noah seemed to have grown closer in proximity.

“You’re not angry,” he observed.

“I,” you began, “I don’t know what I feel.”

“What’s your take on it?” he asked.

You swallowed heavy, a hard lump having formed in your throat. Your hands were clammier than they had been earlier.

“I don’t know,” you said, wishing the stage would open up and swallow you whole so you could escape the very intense look Noah gave you.

“If you want me to have these uncomfortable conversations about faith, I need you to meet me halfway.”

You groaned in protest, but he had you cornered and you both knew it.

Even still, it took you a few tense moments before you could finally speak.

“I have a lot of shame,” you eventually confessed. “And up until this conversation I assumed it was deserved. But now I’m starting to question it.”

“Have you ever—?”

You nodded before he could finish his question. “I have. But each time was difficult for me to accept.”

You paused to give him an opportunity to respond, but he stayed quietly attentive, waiting for you to continue.

“I…thought God would punish me.”

“Punish you how?”

“I don’t want to say,” you said, flushing.

“Come on,” he said. “I’m not going judge.”

“You will when I tell you,” you said. The energy around the both of you had at last shifted to playful again, which was a breath of fresh air after how charged the last few minutes had been.

“Is it really that bad?”

You nodded.

“Please?” he asked. “I told you my secret.”

“I already paid you back for that,” you said.

He groaned and threw his head back. “Come on!”

Something about seeing this heavily-tattooed grown man acting like an impatient little puppy had you softening, and though you knew he probably used this tactic often to get what he wanted, you couldn’t help but give in.

“Promise you won’t judge?”

He nodded, a tendril of hair slipping out from behind his ear to swoop over his face.

You sighed, locking eyes with him once more for confirmation that he was serious.

“I thought that if I was a good enough Christian, God would reward me by…directing a certain person towards me.”

His face lit up with slow realization.

“That dude?” he said.

You nodded.

He laughed a deep belly laugh.

“So you thought that if you didn’t masturbate, you’d be able to date Isaac?”

“You said you wouldn’t judge!” you whined.

“You were right, you definitely shouldn’t have told me.”

You hung your head, pressing your face into your palms to quell your embarrassment.

“I thought it was a good idea at the time,” you said, voice coming out muffled. “I guess it sounds kind of silly when I say it out loud.”

“Okay,” he prefaced, voice vibrating with the remnants of laughter. “Calm down. I’m not judging you for having thought that. It makes a lot of sense considering the messaging you received. But that guy? Really?”

You looked up finally to meet his eye. His mouth still held the hint of a smile, but there was more sincerity in his eyes than there had been before.

“In my defense, the pickings are slim in the church.”

“You can do better than him.”

Noah swished his hair out of his face and your eyes followed the motion, taking in his body language. He leaned casually forward, resting his elbows on his knees, body half-turned toward you. When the moment grew too heavy, he leaned back against the stage again and switched from looking at you to staring at the back of the room.

“You shouldn’t be so ruled by fear,” he said.

You released a large breath. “You’re probably right.”

“Do you want some advice?” he asked.

“I suppose.”

“Masturbate. Do it without the guilt. Do it as a gift to yourself for having tried so hard for so long to be perfect. Treat it like something you deserve. A way to show yourself love.”

You sighed and laid back on the steps, kicking your feet out in front of you. “I don’t know. It’s been so long I feel like I’ve lost touch with that part of myself.”

“So find it.”

You half-scoffed. “That sounds great and all, but I don’t think it’ll be that easy to undo years of guilt and shame. And I don’t even know if I trust what you’re saying. You could just be trying to corrupt me.”

“Oh, I’m definitely trying to corrupt you,” he said. “But not for any hidden agenda. Just because I feel like you could use a little corrupting.”

You looked up at Noah. He half leaned over you, long hair tied back into a low knot that spilled over his shoulder. From where you lay, you could smell essential oil and some sort of incense that you couldn’t quite place.

He held eye contact with you until your eyes traveled down his face to his lips, which pressed together as he swallowed and then parted softly.

“Ehem.”

The sound came from the back of the room, where Nick was leaning on his rake and watching with unconcealed judgement.

“I’m done with raking.”

You and Noah jerked apart, both sitting up and avoiding looking at each other. Noah ran his hands over his thighs, straightening the legs of his jeans. You stood up and walked down the steps towards the back.

“Okay. It looks like it’s almost noon anyway, so why don’t we call it quits for today? Good job, guys. I’ll see you next week.”

Noah hesitated for a moment, but then bid you goodbye and walked out with Nick, who clapped him on the shoulder and muttered something to him that you didn’t catch.

____________

“You motherfucker,” said Nick. It came out friendly, but Noah caught a hidden bite in the hard consonants. “You said you weren’t going to try with her.”

“It wasn’t what it looked like,” Noah said. “We were just talking.”

“About what?” said Nick.

“Church, if you must know.”

“Yeah, it looked like you were getting real deep into religion from where I was standing.” Nick crossed his arms and fixed Noah with a hard stare that Noah didn’t have the bravado to return.

“Dude. I called dibs. How can you not respect the sanctity of dibs?”

Noah rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t work for human beings.”

“It has in the past. Remember Steph?”

“You mean Stacy?” Noah said with a raised eyebrow.

“Sure. You called dibs on her and I respected it.”

Noah felt cornered. He didn’t want to be a hypocrite to his friend, because Nick was right. Noah had done that in the past, and it wasn’t even that long ago, but this felt different. It didn’t sit well with him to treat you like an object. His opinion had changed in a way his friends wouldn’t appreciate, and if he brought it up, they would just say he was only taking the moral high ground to get out of their deal.

“What will it take to get you to drop this?” Noah asked.

“Join in on the bet.”

“I’m not betting someone’s virginity.”

“I’m gonna try to get it regardless, so you can either join in, or you can respect the dibs.”

“Whatever man,” said Noah, having run out of legitimate responses or ways to end this conversation. He stalked off towards his room.  “I’m taking that as a yes,” Nick said to the back of Noah’s head.

“It’s not a yes!” called Noah, already halfway down the hallway.

“Sounds like a yes to me.”

“Let me know when you’ve got your head out of your ass,” Noah replied before slamming the door shut.

Once in the privacy of his room, Noah sank down onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling. It was becoming a regular pastime of his at this point. His thoughts drifted to you and how innocent and doe-eyed you looked staring up at him, regretting that he didn’t kiss you.

He understood the appeal Nick saw. There was no denying how badly you needed it, and how much he wanted to be the one to give it to you.

But you weren’t ready, and he knew it. If he tried anything now, you’d probably have a panic attack about going to hell and he’d have to walk you through it. He didn’t know if he had the emotional capacity to do that, and Nick sure as hell didn’t.

Besides, he had other ways of getting his needs met. There was no shortage of women hitting him up throughout the week, and he could have his pick of any of them if he wanted.

So why hadn’t he returned their texts?

He rolled over onto his stomach, pressing his face into the pillow, and thought about his old church for the first time in ages.

There was a time when he truly believed. He was an active part of the youth group. Went to Sunday school every week. Participated in vacation bible school and church summer camp. Sung his heart out during hymns hoping God would hear him and be pleased. He’d felt so sure of his beliefs.

Now it was so different. He didn’t know what he believed. Wasn’t sure if he even believed in anything at all, except for the fact that man was inherently evil at heart, and if there was a god, he was an asshole for allowing all that evil to take place.

No. He didn’t even believe that. Because there was no way you were inherently evil. You were driven by a deep desire to do good and help the people around you.

So what did he believe, then? He had no idea, but he wished he did. He knew he didn’t believe in the Christian god he’d been taught to follow. There was so much wrong with it. At times he found himself wishing he could believe, but what was once blind faith had long since been replaced with blind rage he couldn’t seem to let go of, no matter what he did.

Growing tired of his room, he huffed and hoisted himself up off his bed. There was only one place where he could truly work through these feelings—his studio.

___________

The studio was very much a makeshift thing. It was set up in an old storage shed in the back yard of Jolly’s house. Noah had spent hours soundproofing and insulating the place. A small space heater in the corner was the only source of warmth, but he didn’t care. When he was inside the studio, nothing could touch him.

He sat in front of his keyboard and allowed his fingers to gloss over the keys. When they found where they wanted to go, he pressed them into the instrument, fingers striking a familiar chord. He moved them over to the next chord. Then the next. And the next. A somber chord progression broke out without him directing it. Noah let his mind relax as his hands took over and he was no longer a person, just a vessel through which music played itself.

He liked you.

His right hand began playing a soft melody while the left kept up with the chord progression.

It’s been a long time since he had liked someone in any significant way. He was used to people disappointing him. 

The volume grew louder, soft notes giving way to an intense, heavy rhythm.

He wanted to protect you from Nick. From others who would see your goodness and try to bring you down to their level. Or use you for their own gain, but he knew it wasn’t his place to get involved. That you were your own person and could make decisions for yourself.

The tempo increased, melody full and moody, with an uncomfortable dissonance that longed to be resolved.

Throughout your life, other people had undoubtedly been making decisions for you. Telling you what to think. What to believe. Who you could spend your time with. The last thing he wanted was to join the ranks of people thinking they knew what was best for you.

His hands violently struck a suspended chord, allowing it to reverberate throughout the room for several beats, before his fingers went back to playing the somber melody from earlier. This time, slower paced and softer.

You were so vulnerable. Your willpower untested, and you had no experience to go on. It would have been so easy for him to take you, right then and there on the stage of the worship center. He could see it in your eyes how badly you wanted it.

His fingers slowed, allowing the melody to come to a close all on its own. He held out the final chord for as long as it would make sound, before switching off the power and leaning back into his chair.

Perhaps he wasn’t giving you enough credit. You had a good head on your shoulders, and seemed to know yourself. You weren’t afraid to question things when they didn’t feel right or genuine, and you saw through a lot of the bullshit that the church had tried to teach you (though your judgement was questionable when it came to taste in men and your own sexuality).

He heaved a sigh. Maybe he was being overprotective. There was nothing that he could say or do to stop Nick from pursuing you. Perhaps the best thing to do would be to encourage you to enforce boundaries and learn to recognize when people had ulterior motives. After that, he just had to trust you to make your own decisions.

He could live with that.

He switched the power on the keyboard back on, connecting it to his laptop and opened up the familiar program. He pressed the record button and began playing the chord progression again, hoping he could at least get a good song out of this.

#Noah Sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian fic #bad omens fanfiction

[renranram]

I just need to say I absolutely love your account 🤭 I am now definitely a regular on here🙈 I was wondering if you could make a one-shot where Jschlatt and reader meet through a friend and they instantly click with some flirting here and there :))

Party Talking

sfw!

fem!reader ( very awkward n chill )

a typical confession love story wah wah wah

use of y/n!

“ you need to socialize more “ that's the last thing you heard from, ted, your childhood bestfriend stated before dragging you to a party thst you aren't fond of

you sat on the couch, awkward as you drink your fruit punch, hating the taste of beer on your lips

you fumble with your fingers as you sigh out, glancing at the open door but seeing ted playfully glaring at you, not wanting you to leave yet

you groan out in defeat, as you stand up about to refill your fruit punch, before bumping into schlatt, “ hey lil lady, watch where you're going “ he chuckles, “ you alright? “

“ oh uh yeah “ you mumble, slowly nodding as he looks at you before patting your head, “ ive never seen you before, name's schlatt “ schlatt introduces himself

you nod again, stating your name, “ nice to meet you schlatt “ you gave him an awkward smile before chuckling, “ you look tense, did someone drag you here? “ he jokes noticing the empty cup before offering, “ you want fruit punch? i can fill some for you “ he offers as you nod slowly handing him the cup

“ ted dragged me here “ you mutter, “ he said i should socialize “ you added as schlatt scoops some fruit punch, “ oh i get it, you're an introvert? or you just don't like big crowds? “ he asks

“ both “ you reply, muttering a small thank you as you get your cup back, “ … wanna be friends? “ schlatt asks, looking at you as you nod again

“ im sorry if im pretty awkward.. im just not good with talking “ you state as schlatt gave you a small nod, “ i understand, not everyone has good socializing skills “

the two of you sat on the couch again, “ …do you like cats? “ he asks, surprised seeing your eyes sparkle in interest, “ i have a cat actually! “ you smile brightly

and god, the two of you talked and talked for hours until the party was over, “ y/n? y/n? “ ted calls out for you, interrupting yours and schlatt’s conversation as he finally spots you both

“ woah, what do we have here? “ ted raises his eyebrow as you chuckle softly, “ i got my same a new girl friend “ schlatt shrugs, smug, as ted nods, “ im so proud, seeing both of my best friends getting along “ he dramatically faked a sob as schlatt playfully yet gently punches him causing the three of you to laugh

“ but fun’s over now, ill drop you home y/n “ ted hums, showing you that it's 11pm now “ oh… dang “ you slowly stand up watching schlatt as he gave you a reassuring nod, “ well… i guess i gotta go home too “ schlatt states, sighing as he stood up

-

as you got home, you got confused receiving a chat from a random number

*** ***** ****

< hey! this is schlatt from

the party, i forgot to ask

for your number so i

asked ted 😁

oh hiii >

uhhhh >

this is awkward >

< lol it's totally fine can i

ask you something?

< if you don't mind of course

< haha

yeah of course sure >

< you down… to go with

me? there's a new cat

café opening somewhere

it's fine if you don't want

to go but yeah if you're

free at saturday id be

happy to go with u 😁

oh! >

i'm definitely free >

of course ill go with u! >

what you didn't know was schlatt was staring at your message, kicking his foot like an anime girl, a small blush on his cheeks, rolling around his bed

this continued on for weeks, meet ups here and there, small dates, the both of you just clicked and god it was making schlatt crazy how you two are just friends

but he knows one day he needs to man up, grow some balls, and tell you how he felt and that day, was this one

the two of you stroll at a nearby park, taking both of your cats for a walk, he steals glances at you, he tries to act non chalant but he tremendously fails, him stammering his words, almost slipping, it was getting bad for him

“ you alright jay? “ you ask him, a tone of concern in your voice, “ you look red… like really red “

he breathes out, shaking his head, “ no god hahaha… it's nothing.. it's just so hot “ he mumbles, looking away, “ schlatt… it's winter “ you state as the two of you pauses, chuckling in unison

“ okay okay im sorry “ he breathes out, “ ive been thinking about something” he mumbles, looking at you

“ about what? “ you ask, as you two stop, looking at eachother, was this the right time? is she okay with this? does she even like me back? schlatt mentally asks himself

looking at your eyes with adoration and anxiety, his fingers fumbling, jambo’s and soup’s lead, “ holy fucking shit “ he whispers

“ you okay? “ you ask, gently resting your hand on his arm, thinking he was cold, as schlatt reddens more

“ fuck okay, i need to tell you something okay? “ he breathes out, looking at you intently

“ … okay? “ you chuckle softly, rubbing your hand on his arm

“ i like you y/n… i know it's been weeks of us just meeting but god you're the most amazing woman i know, you're kind, sweet, friendly, just… everything about you is just so lovable it's making me insane to think that we're just friends… im so glad you attended that party because if you didn't i would've never met you- “ he rambles, but you gently cut him off with a peck on his cheek

“ i like you too schlatt “ you smile, “ more like jared “ you manage to tease him, getting a loud laugh at him, lifting you up as he spun you, smiling cheek to cheek, “ holy shit i love you so much “ he rains kisses all over your face, fixing your hair as he smiles at you endearingly

#chuckle sammy #chuckle sandwich #jschlatt #schlatt #sleep deprived podcast #schlatt fanfic #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #schlatt x reader #schlatt x y/n #schlatt x you #schlatt fluff #jschlatt x y/n #jschlatt fanfic #jschlatt fluff

[eclecticqueennerd]

Elminsters not around, might as well...

Not heavy on the details, but would consider NSFW. Please be advised.

*sorry for the sudden change in title. It was previously called, An Excellent Choice, but renamed to the current title. I feel like this title fits it better, don't you think?*

I think we all agree that Gale uses magic in the bedroom, it's one of the most important things to him, besides you of course. So imagine his surprise when his *non magical spouse conjures a mirror image of themselves for some... playtime. He comes home from the Academy and trudges up the stairs to change clothes only to hear voices coming from inside your shared bedroom. Mild panic settles into his heart, but then he realizes who the voices belong to. It sounds like you're talking to yourself, which isn't uncommon, especially if you were focused on a task. Opening the door, he sees a surprised you and... well... you, standing next to the bed. He looks at the two yous and asks, "What is this?" You reply that you've wanted to do something special for him for a long time and so you made it your mission to study a few minor spells. He'd tell you that you he's very proud of you, that he loves you and that you didn't have to do that. He also questions how you learned if he himself did not teach you. You dance around the question by saying that you'll discuss it later, that there is much fun to be had. No WAY will you tell him you may or may not have enlisted the teachings from Elminster, you're pretty sure Gale would perish on the spot.

You've given Gale the task to figure out which one of you is the real you, he's directed to sit on the armchair in the corner of the bedroom and watch as the two of you perform your show for him. Your image to receive pleasure, you the one to deal it. Gale figures out who the real one is quickly, but let's the two of you continue as if he didn't. Then, he just can't take it anymore and tells you to stop. You and your image look at him and he points to you, the REAL you. The mirror image of yourself disappates and Gale now stands before you, looming over your exposed form with overwhelming desire. You'd ask him how he knew and he'd tell you, "The moment the two of you turned to go to the bed, I knew. You have a mole in the middle of your back, your image strangely did not. Also, your thighs tend to vibrate when you cum." Gale then shows you how much he appreciated your efforts, by giving you all of his.

A few weeks go by, and Elminster pays the two of you a visit. Elminster asks how your magic practice has faired whilst he was away. Gales face pales, and he looks at you. You quickly reply that they've been going well and offer to bring out some cheese, so Elminster would be more occupied with eating rather than talking. You suggest the Waterdhavian wedge cheese and ask Gales opinion. He sits there, on autopilot, and says, "An excellent choice."

*by non magical, I mean that they can use magic, but it's not their main area of expertise

#baldurs gate tav #bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 gale #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #baldurs gate 3 gale #gale brainrot #gale x tav #mirror image #the wizard of waterdeep #rizzard of waterdeep

[untaemedqueen]

At Your Service

Escort!Jeongguk x CEO!Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 22.

Series Warnings (Will Be Updated): Angst, Fluff, Cold Heartedness, Emotional Trauma, Healing, Smut, Dark Humor

The drive over to your job was incredibly silent, just a few clearing of throats and the sound of quiet opera bled through the car like some type of disease.

You want to tell Guk, 'I can take care of you, don't go through all of this if you're not happy with it,' but he'd be upset to hear you say such a thing.

You've already told him countless times to stay home but he's so incredibly adamant about it that you feel like a broken record.

Every inch closer your car made toward the job, made Guk's hands clench harder and harder.

It's like every emotion he had building up inside of him for Namjoon is suddenly going to come pouring out in a display of strength.

"We can have lunch together later," you offer, pulling into the building's garage.

"I thought that was a given," your fiance breathes, tilting his head to look at you.

You simply tilt your head and nod. "Y-Yeah, I guess."

You're not good at this whole reassurance thing. You never even reassured yourself over the years.

Jeongguk fixes his tie and when you park the car and shut the engine off, he can see now just how fast and wild his knee is bouncing.

You noticed this throughout the ride over too but you haven't mentioned it for fear of making him more nervous.

"Alrighty, c'mon," you coo, opening your door and grabbing your purse.

Taking a deep breath, your fiance steps out of the car as well. He uses the blacked out window of the car beside yours to slick back the sides of his hair before turning to you.

"Ready?" you smile, fixing your dress.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he replies, rounding the car and curling an arm around your waist.

He doesn't wanna be that guy that constantly bitches about stuff. He can't be that guy. There really is nothing to complain about in his life right now and if he did then that would just be selfish.

Stepping onto the elevator, you press the button for the top floor. You step in front of him, fixing his tie in silence. The father of your child simply sighs, kissing your forehead sweetly.

As the doors finally go to close, an arm juts out, catching the sliding doors and forcing them to open again. When you turn around to see who it is, you find yourself smiling.

"Morning, Joon," you announce.

"Hey, gorgeous," he breathes, finally looking up from his phone to see Guk towering behind you with widening eyes.

You clear your throat awkwardly, you're used to those words after all these years. You're used to the half assed flirting attempts but Jeongguk Jeon is not.

Namjoon scratches the back of his neck, giving Guk a polite smile as the doors finally slam shut.

You can practically feel heat radiating off of your fiance's body behind you and he curls his arm around your stomach, planting his hand on your belly.

Oh, the silence in the elevator is creepy.

The simple muzak that flits over the speakers does not bring you comforting solace like it usually does. Instead, it makes your heart beat harder, it makes your blood pound faster through your veins as you feel Jeongguk clench harder onto you.

You tilt your head to look up at him but it's the wrong choice. His eyes are narrowed and animalistic in the blonde man's direction.

When he opens his mouth to speak, Joon speaks first.

"Excited for your first day of work, Guk?" the blonde man inquires, pulling out a folder and skimming through it, "It's like mommy and me, huh? Finally getting out into the big world."

Oh, no.

Namjoon feels hurt.

You've seen this only once before, when Jack Sypruse got the contract for one of the main vineyards that produce grapes for your wines over him. When this man is hurt, his tongue is like a silver dagger. He's ready and willing to say anything and everything to make himself feel better.

But Jeongguk isn't a professional, he's not about to take shit. Especially when he built himself up all morning with a ball of hatred and uneasiness in his heart.

"Watch your fucking mouth," Guk warns, gently guiding you behind his body.

His frame is muscled and large before you, shielding you from anything you might end up seeing.

"You should be grateful. You wouldn't be here in this elevator if it wasn't for me," Joon announces, slamming the folder shut.

Guk gives a short laugh, one devoid of any real humor. "Grateful, huh? Maybe you're just bitter."

Your eyes dart over to the LED pad which continuously rises in number as you head to the top floor.

You pray for no scuffle in the elevator, you pray for no blood that your employees will see.

"Bitter?!" Namjoon guffaws, "Bitter about what?!"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe that I put my baby inside the woman you've been in love with for y-"

"Watch your mouth!" Joon hollers, taking a step forward.

"Make me, buddy," Guk whispers, stepping up as well.

You whine uncomfortably, rocking from one foot to the other as the counter finally stops.

The elevator dings and you turn your head sharply to your fiance.

"Wow, we're at work!" you cheer, grabbing Guk's wrist.

When the doors spring open, you swallow thickly and when you pull him there's no response.

Wedging your foot in the door, you turn back to see their stare off.

"We're at work," you remind them in a gentle song like whisper through your teeth.

"I am grateful you brought me back to her. But don't say it like you gave up something. She was never yours to have. If she was, she would have taken any of your advances over the last seven years. But she didn't. So…" your fiance shrugs, pulling his wrist away from you just to intertwine your fingers, "Don't be a prick, Namjoon. It doesn't suit you."

You open your mouth to speak but the blonde man simply chuckles bitterly. "You don't know me well enough to know what suits me, escort."

"Gukkie, please," you beg softly, looking up at him with pleading, doe-like eyes.

He glances at you quickly before sighing. "C'mon, sweetheart."

Your fiance wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you out of the elevator with him leaving Namjoon alone.

"He's a fucking asshole," Guk mumbles, shaking his head.

"Joon is just being sensitive," you offer, allowing your employees to step out of your way.

You do realize how they look at you these days. You're showing now, your belly rounding out at the now five month mark. It's surely a shock to them, the dead inside, snappy boss has suddenly become this calm, pregnant woman. But love changes people all the time.

"I don't give a fuck what he's being, I will knock him th-" Guk stops himself when he sees your big eyes, alerting him of how loud he's becoming.

You simply sigh, pushing the glass door to your office open.

"I'm not working with him," Guk announces as he pushes the door closed.

Setting your purse down on your desk, you gingerly slide your satin gloves off your arms. Your eyes slowly rise to meet his and you bite your bottom lip already knowing how miserable he feels.

Your fiance barrels towards the sitting chairs, throwing himself down in one with a huff.

"I told you not to come to work," you sigh, sitting down in your own chair.

Guk looks up from the floor, watching how you cup your belly as you turn on your computer.

He's being a little bitch right now. He can't be stressing out the mother of his child like this… He knows better.

"I'll go apologize," he whispers, combing his fingers through his hair.

Your eyes soften further at the inner battle you can see the father of your child going through right now.

He's prideful and you should not be the person that takes that away from him.

"You'll be under my guidance today then," you breathe, folding your arms.

"You have a lot on your plate, baby. I'm sorry," Guk apologizes, running his hands over the knees of his suit pants.

"I would rather you be content during your day than being upset. Besides, Joon was rude for no reason," you reason, leaning back in your chair.

"I'm your personal assistant, so you just tell me what to do and I'm on it!" your fiance beams, turning his head to the doors of your office when they open.

Joon enters with a stack of folders in hand and a sour look on his face. He ignores the father of your child all together, striding right towards your desk without a word.

"Here's last week's sales reports and the quota for next month that has to be met before the fourth quarter," the blonde man breathes, placing the files on your desk.

"Thank you Joonie," you whisper, not looking away from your computer screen.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Jeongguk roll his eyes in turn and you try your hardest to not cringe.

"Do you want me to make you some tea?" Joon inquires, sitting on the edge of your desk.

"Oh no, I'm oka-"

"I'm her assistant, I'll make it. Just tell me where, baby girl," your fiance cuts you off.

Here we go. Another pissing contest.

"Do you even know how she takes her tea?" Joon guffaws, finally turning to look at your man.

Guk smiles then, a fierce, bitter smile curls over his lips and you narrow your eyes at your screen hoping that you fade into the background between the both of them. "Depends on what tea. If it's black tea then with milk and sugar. If it's green tea then with sugar and lemon. If it's chamomile then just milk. I could go on. I'm going to marry this woman, unlike you, I should know how she takes her drinks."

"I should have never bought you that fucking drin-"

"What'd you think would happen if you didn't? You'd become this grand hero that marries my woman and adopts my fucking kid as your own? Man up, dude. You acting pissy with me is not going to fucking help you."

"Y/N! Are you gonna let him talk to me like this?!" Namjoon gasps, turning to you with wide eyes.

"Guk, the kitchen is to your left down the hallway. Five doors down," you simply say, grabbing the top folder off the pile.

"What kind of tea do you want, sweetheart?" Jeongguk asks, standing up.

"Black tea, please. Dec-"

"Decaffeinated. I'm on it, baby," he says, giving you a wink and taking his leave.

When the glass door finally swings shut, you slam the folder closed with a huff. Your eyes shoot straight up to the blonde man's and you narrow them sharply. "Why are you acting like an asshole, Namjoon Kim?!"

"Me?! I'm acting like an asshole?! Are you kidding me?!" he grinds out through his teeth, standing up tall.

"You have been picking on him since the second you stepped foot in that elevator! He hasn't done anything wrong and you're treating him like some kind of disease or something! Stop it!" you counter, folding your arms.

"Oh my God, Y/N, please. I can see how annoyed he was to even be here as soon as I saw you both," Joon shakes his head.

"He was already gearing himself to get shit on. Which I didn't think would happen but here we are! You need to come to terms with what's going on because it seems like you're going to be relentless with him until you do so," you simply state, standing up and turning to the large windows of your office.

"What?! I have come to terms with it! It's his shitty attitude that's causing me to act like this!"

This is not healthy. You can hear the pain and anger in his voice, almost as if it's making all of his organs tremble. He's not ready to be here. You never loved someone for years with no solution. You've never had the big heart like Joon does.

You can't imagine his pain and you can't imagine how painful it must be for him to see this.

"Go home," you breathe, looking down at the city below you.

"What?" Joon hisses, sticking his neck out to hear you.

"Go work from home for a while. I can't deal with this stress right now," you repeat, turning to look at him.

"Y/N… Don't be like that--"

"This pregnancy is really not that easy for me and you and Guk fighting is stressing me out. Please, for me, just go work from home until you feel better about the situation," you ask politely, putting your hand to your heart.

"You have got to be kidding me," the blonde man guffaws, tugging at the neck of his tie.

"You have been a trusted person in my life for quite a long time but now I think you need some time to work things out on your own. It might not be immediate but--"

"I'm the fucking Vice President! I need to be here!"

"Then I will go home and stay at home with Guk still as my assistant. Take your pick. It's no skin off my ass," you retort, feeling your pregnancy hormones now swirling a sick, angry ball within the pit of your stomach.

He stays silent for a while, taking off his glasses to clean them diligently.

The air in the room is now chilly, causing goosebumps to adorn your skin entirely.

Tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, he gives an almost bitter smirk as he shakes his head. "It hurts me."

As simple and bland as his words are, you know exactly what he means.

All of this, every single thing since you've gotten with Jeongguk has hurt him. Even needing him and holding onto him when you were apart with the father of your child hurt.

"I know. And I'm sorry you feel that way," you apologize, turning back to the window.

"I…I love you," he whispers softly, folding his arms.

You sigh softly, shutting your eyes at how sorrowful his words sound. You don't know how to reply. Do you apologize for his love? Do you simply shrug off his emotions and how you feel?

"I know you don't feel the same way. And I fucking know that I am not the guy for you. But it still hurts. You weren't mine to have, you never have been but I always felt that way," Namjoon breathes, shaking his head.

Then there's silence again.

You finally go to speak as he does.

"Joo-"

"I'm gonna take a vacation and go to Maui. Will you approve that for me? I have three months of vacation. I'm gonna go to Hawaii for a month and heal myself," he blurts out, looking at you with hopeful eyes.

You run your hands over your face, turning around to him. Striding over to your desk, you gingerly sit down.

"Yes, I'll approve it," you say finitely, grabbing your folders.

"I'll fill out the form at home," he breathes, rounding the desk to hug you.

When you look up at him the glass door to your office opens with your fiance holding a porcelain teacup.

"You good, baby?" Guk inquires, crossing the long floor to meet your desk.

"Yes," you promise, giving Joon a small smile.

He returns it, even though it's pained and lost, without another word he leaves and you close your eyes once more.

"What just happened?" Guk inquires, sitting back down on the opposite side of your desk.

"Something that was going to happen regardless of whether I wanted it to or not," you mumble, opening up one of the folders at random.

"What?" the father of your child asks confused, crossing his legs.

"Joon is taking a vacation," you announce, not looking up from the countless words and numbers on the page before you.

"Why?" Jeongguk breathes, tilting his head to look out the glass doors.

"Because he needs to work out his feelings. Away from work and away from you. He needs to come back and be professional. Just like you will have to be now that he's gone," you voice throughout your large office.

When you lift your head to look at him, his handsome smile and the tilt of his head sends shivers down your spine.

"Yes, ma'am. I will be as diligent as ever," Jeongguk promises.

As you go to pick up your teacup, you watch as Namjoon slings on his long, woolen peacoat. He steps into the elevator and your eyes meet as he lifts his head. Bringing the teacup up to your lips, you nod your head to him and he does the same with an emotionless face.

It'll take time, but you'll get there. All the pieces will fall into place.

#bts #jeongguk #jeon jeongguk #at your service #ays #jeongguk x reader #jeongguk smut

[chisfics]

i just know daniel says things like "fuck me.." whenever he goes through a minor inconvenience while cooking

#and johnny loves it #he replies like “well if you're offering..” #with a smug look on his face #they may or may not have done it in the kitchen because of that.. #despite daniel's constant persistence of keeping it out of the kitchen #“its unhygenic” #daniel larusso #johnny lawrence #90s lawrusso #lawrusso #90s movies #chris naked in new york #ralph macchio #billy zabka #fic ideas

[incognit0slut]

Hypothetically

Chronically single, you suggest a pact with your best friend to start a family together when you turn forty.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x bau fem reader

Category: fluff/comfort

Warnings: marriage and baby talk, reader is insecure because she feels left out

A/n: This is my entry for the kid fic challenge by @imagining-in-the-margins! This was like a breath of fresh air from all the smut I’ve been writing

"Do you want to have a baby with me?"

The scalding coffee burned his tongue as your question lingered in the air. Spencer cleared his throat awkwardly and patted his chest, his eyes drifting towards you. "Uh... what?"

"Hypothetically," you replied, the tap of your pen echoing against the round table between you. "It's like a pact. If we're both still single in the future, we get married to one another and, well, start a family together."

Spencer felt the clamminess of his palms as he set his mug down, trying to steady himself. He considered you as one of the closest people in his life, if not his best friend, and he was accustomed to your random questions, but this sudden topic of conversation seemed to strike a nerve.

"Where..." he began, wiping his palm along his pants. "...where is this coming from?"

You shrugged casually, the tapping of your pen momentarily ceasing. "Just a thought. I mean, we're both at that age where these things start to cross our minds, right?"

Spencer swallowed, trying to push down the unease rising in his chest. "Yeah, I guess so," he muttered, but as he studied you, he noticed the tension in your shoulders. "Are you okay?"

Your gaze flickered away for a moment before you sighed, slumping against your chair.

"I have a wedding coming up this weekend." Spencer frowned, not understanding what you were trying to say. You continued, "And another one next week, and guess what? Two of my cousins are getting married next month."

"What does that have to do with...?" His voice trailed off as realization dawned on him. "Ah, I see."

But you weren't finished. Somehow, the thoughts that had lingered in your mind for the past few days spilled out right then and there, in the middle of broad daylight when you were supposed to be focusing on the case you were working on.

"And a close friend I went to high school with just gave birth while another friend from college announced she's two months pregnant. And look at me," you exclaimed, your arms flying around. "No wedding. No pregnancy. Spencer, I don't even have a boyfriend, heck, I forgot what it's like to go out on a date!"

He watched as your brow furrowed into a frown, and although your demeanor was all over the place, he couldn't help but notice how you still managed to look pretty.

"Spence?" You asked, nudging his leg with your foot under the table. "Are you listening to me?"

He blinked, momentarily pulled from his thoughts by your voice. "Sorry," he replied. "I'm listening."

You gave him a skeptical look, but the tension in your shoulders seemed to ease slightly as you leaned back in your chair.

"I just... I don't know, I feel like I'm left behind." You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "I mean, I'm happy for my friends and all, but sometimes it feels like everyone's moving forward but me. Like I'm stuck in this... this rut."

Spencer wasn't sure how to respond. On one hand, he knew how it felt to want something that seemed out of reach, but on the other hand, he felt like it wasn't his place to offer advice when he wasn't even sure what the future held for him.

"I get it," he finally said, trying to gather his thoughts. The least he could do was try to offer some comfort. "But just because you haven't reached those milestones yet doesn't mean you won't get there eventually."

"But what if it doesn't happen? What if I'm still all alone and nobody loves me when I'm gray and old?"

He frowned at you. "I'd still love you when you're gray and old."

"Platonically. You love me as much as you love JJ. Or Emily. Or Penny, or even Morgan." You leaned over the table. "I want to be loved passionately by someone who is head over heels for me, who can't imagine a life without me. I want to feel that kind of happiness."

His frown deepened. "I don't think you should find happiness in another person."

"You're missing the point," you groaned, crossing your arms. "I'm not saying I want to depend on someone else for my happiness. But is it too much to ask for someone to share it with? To feel like I'm someone's everything and not just another friend in the group?"

His expression softened as he listened, a sense of familiarity washing over him. He remembered feeling the same thing once, or maybe more than once; he wasn't sure. He had lost count of the times he felt his life was falling short.

But he realized the more he thought about the why—why was he so different? why couldn't he find love?—the more he felt worthless, and he hated that. So what was the best thing he did to ignore those thoughts?

Bury himself in work, because to him, pushing those feelings aside was easier than confronting them. But now, as he looked at you, it felt like he was seeing his own reflection and your words hit him harder than he expected.

"No," he quietly agreed. "It's not too much to ask for."

"I guess what I'm trying to say is... I'm tired of waiting for life to happen to me." Your gaze slowly met his. "So I came up with a plan."

His throat felt dry as he recalled how this conversation started in the first place. "The... baby plan?"

You nodded enthusiastically, sliding into the seat next to him.

"Think about it. If we're both still single when we're..." You paused, furrowing your brow as you did a quick calculation. "Forty? Yeah, let's say we're both still single when we're forty, with no partners, or like, no friends with benefits?"

You shook your head.

“Just... with no one in our lives—we get married. You and me."

He blinked, trying to process your proposal. It was unexpected, to say the least, but there was a strange logic to it that he couldn't quite shake. The idea of marrying his best friend as a backup plan was both absurd and oddly comforting.

"But what about... love?" he asked cautiously. "Wasn't that what you wanted?"

You paused, considering his question before responding. "I mean, I don't think it's impossible," you said, leaning back in your seat. "Haven't you ever heard of the saying, 'Marry your best friend'?"

His gaze lingered on you, his heart beating hard against his chest. "You're saying that we can fall in love?"

Your eyes met his, and a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Who knows?" you replied softly. "Stranger things have happened."

Spencer shouldn't entertain the possibility. After all, who knew what could happen in the future? It seemed like an absurd thought, but as he stared at you, it was hard not to imagine a life with you as his wife.

He imagined you in a white dress, walking down the aisle towards him with a radiant smile on your face. He pictured you both in the house you had just bought, dancing joyfully around the empty rooms as you unpacked boxes together.

Then thoughts of you being pregnant with his child—or maybe even children—filled his mind, and he envisioned a future where your kids would run around in the backyard with a pet dog trailing behind.

And then he considered the prospect of growing old with you, watching as your children eventually started families of their own while you found comfort in each other's company. All of these possibilities didn't seem so bad, because if anyone could understand him on a deep level, it was definitely you.

Maybe this crazy plan of yours wasn't so crazy after all.

"I... I guess it's not impossible," he finally admitted. Then, not wanting to seem too eager, he added, "Hypothetically speaking."

"Of course," you replied with a smile. "Hypothetically speaking."

Suddenly feeling flustered by your gaze, Spencer looked away and focused on his coffee, bringing the mug to his lips. Then you heard laughter and footsteps drawing closer, and soon Derek and Emily entered the room. Their eyes immediately landed on the two of you, sitting closely together at the table.

"What are you children whispering about?" Derek's voice interrupted, his eyebrows raised curiously as he glanced between you.

You didn't miss a beat. “Spencer and I are having a baby together."

Spencer choked on his coffee, his eyes widening in shock as he coughed and sputtered. You quickly moved to pat his back.

"Well, we're gonna get married first, right, Spence?" you added with a grin, glancing at him expectantly.

Spencer finally managed to regain his composure, clearing his throat awkwardly as he shot you a sideways glance. "Um, yeah, of course," he stammered, his cheeks still tinged with embarrassment. "Hypothetically."

Derek and Emily exchanged bemused glances, a silent conversation passing between them. Emily's curiosity seemed to win out as she lifted a hand, turning her attention back to you. "Care to explain?"

"We were discussing our backup plan."

"Backup plan?" Derek echoed. 

"Yeah," you replied with a nod. "In case neither of us finds the right person by the time we're, oh, I don't know, forty or so, we figured we'd marry each other and start a family."

Derek placed a hand over his chest, feigning hurt. "And you chose Pretty Boy over me?"

"I'm not going to compete with all your lady friends," you shot back, rising from your seat. "Come on, Spence, let's grab some lunch and brainstorm baby names."

He stood up, giving you a pointed look.

"Or do you want to discuss how we'd make those babies in the future?"

"Well, I was thinking of Amelia if it's a girl..."

You grinned, linking your arm through his before guiding him towards the door. Derek and Emily observed the natural closeness between you two, how you were practically clinging to him and how he seemed to be comfortable with it.

Derek turned to Emily as you disappeared down the hallway. "Do you think they'd actually get married when they hit forty?"

Emily shook her head. "Nope," she replied confidently. "I give it a year until he's already down on one knee."

He laughed, nodding in agreement. With the way Spencer's gaze lingered on you with unmistakable affection, it seemed like it was only a matter of time.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic

[opluffys]

-

-

-nsfw/smut-

"c'mon, raise those hips for me."

you're trying, you really are.

"i'm tired," you whined, turning around to view ghost, laying on his back, looking reposed. he lazily rolled his hips upwards, fucking the last few inches of his fat cock into you. the moan that left you was muted by a large hand over your mouth, leather against your lips.

ghost quickly flipped you onto your stomach, watching as your spine curved to create such an alluring figure as yours. his hands were attached to the fat of your hips, fingers tracing the little marks and blemishes that further increased your beauty.

you felt his tip press right at your slit, impatient and greedy, you canted your hips backwards, a sorry attempt at getting him back inside your cunt. instead, this had resulted in a harsh slap against your ass, the sting blurred between pain and pleasure. a small cry left you as tears welled in your eyes, threatening to fall past your waterline.

"patience, sweetheart."

you sniffed, "don't be mean, simon..."

he chuckled, the low timbre having you pathetically clench around nothing. he pressed a chaste kiss at your back, "sorry, 'm sorry, love."

you knew he wasn't. that didn't matter, though.

without warning, he shoved his cock into your pussy, hearing your muffled whimper as he'd done so. "quiet, don't wanna wake up our little girl, do you?" his own voice was strained as he scolded you, beginning to set his own pace. unforgiving and harsh, making you lightheaded and dizzy.

you felt him right at your womb again and again and fucking again. you felt any semblance of your very sanity begin to melt away as he fucked you, so roughly that it almost had you begging for him to go easy on you.

ghost was used to being rather quiet, but you were fucking struggling. any sound from you could potentially ruin what the two of you had going on. and you couldn't take that, not after the lack of intimacy between you two since the birth of your baby.

"there we go, mama. fuckin' perfect." he groaned, watching you quiver underneath his impressive physique.

fuck, you couldn't possibly be quiet after such praise, a moan leaving your agape lips. ghost didn't seem to mind your sudden outburst. instead, the grip on your hips tightening, fucking into your wet and tight cunt with such a primal and desperate need.

he was fucking you like a thing void of a soul, like a rag doll. every single time you felt him back inside, he pushed you deeper and deeper into the mattress. your hands had felt useless, not even able to support your own weight. you offered them to him, feeling his lone hand take both of yours, anchoring himself to you without his pace even faltering. it was a reminder to you both that he's fucking huge, so strong and capable of easily overpowering you. it had you nearly sobbing, your insides squeezing him snugly.

you heard him curse behind you, filling you to the brim and staying still. you shifted, confused on why he'd stopped.

"think you can do somethin' for me, sweet girl?"

"anything, anything for you," you replied almost instantly, words slurred like you'd been inebriated.

"yeah?" ghost started, shallowly thrusting into your cunt. you could practically hear the grin he had on his face, seeming to enjoy your torment.

a small 'mhm' was all you could come up with, words barely being able to form over your tongue and past your lips. a small sob left you as you remained stretched open by him, unmoving.

"wanna have another baby." as he'd said so, he'd delicately traced the stretch-marks over your hips and thighs. his touches were filled with nothing short of reverence.

well, you certainly hadn't expected him to say that. your daughter wasn't even six months yet, your body barely even fully healed. yet, all you could do was give him a nod. once he'd gotten your answer, you felt his body against your back, his lips at your neck. you knew that there’d be marks there in the morning- but that didn’t matter, not when he began to resume that dizzying speed.

"give me a boy this time."

#fanfic #smut #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod smut #cod x reader #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #thanks for 6k omg <3<3

[itsunnysmutt]

—⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚┊nsfw (18+ minors dni), afab reader, reader has big tits, consensual sex, titfucking (sampo), nipple play (sunday, kaveh), nipple piercing (wriothesley), cuming on tits (wriothesley), they are basically all obssessed with you oops ૮꒰ྀི >⸝⸝⸝<꒱ྀིა

–‧˚꒰💌꒱༘⋆ 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄

"No matter how many times I fucked you, you're still as tight as ever baby... I love your pussy, could spend hours taking care of it" Aventurine's breath is hot, his hips stuttering as you clench around his lenght. "And don't get me started on your breasts..." he moves back from your neck to look down at your bouncing tits, flushed and covered with lovebites. "They're yours to use", you murmur softly as you know Aventurine is obssessed with them. "That's right, all mine." He eagerly grabs your legs, bending you in half, fucking you deeper and harder. He fondles your tits all the while fucking the shit out you, whispering the nastiest words into your ear.

–‧˚꒰💌꒱༘⋆ 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐎

"Here you go, you're doing such a nice job for Sampo. I will reward you well, you won't be disappointed", Sampo chuckles breathlessly as he stares down to watch you squeeze his cock between your tits. "You better keep that promise this time", you mumble before squeezing his lenght tighter, earning a surprised gasp from Sampo. Before he could reply something back, you slowly open your shiny lips and swallow his flushed tip, swirling your warm tongue over it to collect all of his salty precum. Sighing in pleasure, you suck the tip all the while working his cock up and down between your tits. Sampo hisses but he simply tightens his grip on your hair, encouraging you for more. And how could you refuse ?

–‧˚꒰💌꒱༘⋆ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘

"M-mh fuck... this feeling is delightful my dear", Sunday is struggling to keep his composure as you ride him into oblivion. What's even harder for him is to keep his cool from the sight of your tits bouncing up and down. The urge to grope, to pinch, to lick... Sunday can't stare away, those sinful thoughts leading him to attach his lips on one of your nipple as the other makes its way to grab your breast. The sudden sparks of pleasure is making you slow down, shivers running all over your body. You flush as Sunday stares up at you, "Dearest, why did you stop ? Keep riding me as I take care of your pretty nipples." You oblige, rising your hips up and down over Sunday's cock, his moans muffled as he keeps on nibbling your nipples desperately.

–‧˚꒰💌꒱༘⋆ 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇

"You're gonna be the death of me I swear", Kaveh takes a deep breath before wrapping his arms around you, bringing you closer to admire what you're offering him. Your breasts are covered with a lovely lacy bra, the fabric embracing your clevage and making it look perkier. Kaveh's cock twitches at the thought of gropping them as he fucks you nice and deep. You let out a tiny sob as he lazily traces some patterns over your bra with his skilled tongue, paying more attention to your nipples poking through the thin fabric. Kaveh looks out of it already, eyes filled with arousal and mouth slacked. You widen your legs, giving him more space as he pulls down your bra, your tits on full display for him. "I'm so hard for you baby, feel that ?" Kaveh grinds his covered cock against your pussy. "Got hard just looking at them", he groans as you roll your hips up against him, ready to make him cum just like this.

–‧˚꒰💌꒱༘⋆ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

Pupils blowed with lust, Wriothesley can't hold back his grunts when all he can focus on his your nipple piercings. The cute jewels making your tits even more gorgeous. And to Wriothesley, it makes them sexier. "Look at you, you're loving this uh ?" he says lowly, twisting your pierced nipple and watching you squirm over his lap. His thick cock streching you open is overwhelming, but so is the constant tug on your perky nipples. "I'm gonna fuck you properly now. Be good for me and pinch them as I destroy that pretty pussy of yours". Your arousal is clearly messing Wriothesley's thighs but he doesn't seem to care as he keeps bouncing you up and down on his lenght, manhandling you like you weight nothing. It soon becomes too much, Wriothesley's cock twitches and he quickly pulls out and pumps his cock over your chest until hot cum spills all over you.

© please do not repost and/or claim my posts as your own

#genshin impact smut #genshin smut #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #aventurine smut #aventurine x reader #sampo smut #sampo x reader #sunday smut #sunday x reader #kaveh smut #kaveh x reader #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x reader

[aligned-starz]

Crying in the Courtyard - Theodore Nott

⋆｡°✩Pairing : theodore nott x fem!reader

Warnings : fluff/light angst, happy ending, use of y/n

Summary : reader finds something out about her crush.

Song : Crying In the Chapel - Elvis Presley⋆｡°✩

"So, did you find out? Is he seeing someone?" You gushed in a hushed tone, fisting your Slytherin friend's robes in your hand as you pulled her in, anxious to hear what she has to say.

"Y/n! Calm down, you're going to rip off my bloody buttons. But yes, I did hear something from Blaise." Pansy Parkinson, a friend you hadn't expected to make, replied with a sigh, her expression mirroring your own anxiety. You held your breath, waiting for her next words, knowing deep down that your suspicions were about to be confirmed.

"Y/n..." She trails off, looking for words to explain the news. You met her eyes, a small realization dawning that your suspicions had been correct. 

"I'm sorry. There was talk in the air that Theodore had been seeing someone, and Blaise confirmed it for me," Pansy started, her voice tinged with sympathy as she glanced away, almost as if she was shielding her eyes from your reaction. "Says that he's crushing on a girl, and we believe it to be Daphne."

Your heart sank as her words registered, but another thought flashed in your mind. Blaise, with his charming smile and smooth demeanor, had always seemed to have an affinity for Daphne. You couldn't help but wonder if his confirmation of Theodore's crush was influenced by his own feelings for her.

"Greengrass? Doesn't Blaise like Daphne Greengrass?" 

Your curiosity sparked, and a deep longing for an answer, an answer that may prove that there's still a chance that Nott could be yours. 

"Yes, he does. And Daphne likes another Slytherin boy, like Theo. The two have been teased before, but they had previously mentioned that they're just friends. Maybe something had developed? Theodore also mentioned that the girl he liked may have liked him as well, and Blaise saw them laughing together after class. So, if we connect the information together.." 

Your heart felt as though as it had been hollowed out as Pansy dropped the bombshell. Theodore Nott, the enigma that had captured your thoughts and dreams, was supposedly entangled in a relationship. You leaned against the hall wall, the cold stone offering little solace as you tried to process the news, mind full with a whirlwind of confusion and hurt.

"I'm truly sorry, Y/n," Pansy's voice softened, her usually sharp features softening with genuine sympathy. "I was really rooting for the two of you to become a thing."

Her eyes, normally filled with a mischievous glint, now held a hint of sadness as she spoke, as if she shared in your disappointment. It was a rare moment of vulnerability from Pansy, one that made you realize just how much she valued your friendship.

As Pansy's voice faded into the background, you found yourself lost in a sea of memories, each one a painful reminder of what could have been. You remembered the stolen glances and whispered conversations, the moments shared between the two of you that had ignited a spark of something more, moments where you couldn't take your eyes off one another.

Maybe it was all in your head? It was only you who felt that way. No, he had felt that way for a different girl, not just any girl, Daphne Greengrass. You could never compare, oh how foolish you felt.

"Y/n, are you alright?" She placed a hand on your shoulder, bringing you back from your thoughts. You looked up at her, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

"Yes, I'm ok. I expected this, so.." Your eyebrows furrowed in anger, anger at yourself for falling so stupidly.

Before Pansy could see you break down, you decided to leave. You feel so stupid for feeling like this, and you couldn't have someone else see you like this.

"I've got class so um, thank you Pansy." You stammered and started to walk away from the girl, leaving her confused and concerned. 

As the day wore on, Y/n found herself struggling to maintain her composure. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes at the most inconvenient moments, like droplets of rain in a storm. In Potions class, she buried her face in her textbook, pretending to study as she blinked back the tears that blurred her vision. Tears all caused by the boy who sat at the back of the class, who she refused to even spare a glance at now. But the ache in her chest only intensified with each passing moment, a relentless reminder of the pain she could not escape.

So she stood up abruptly in class, her sudden movement capturing Snape's attention like a disturbance in the otherwise calm atmosphere.

"Do you need a moment, Ms. L/n?" his voice was cold and clipped, his gaze piercing as he scrutinized her.

Y/n met his gaze, her eyes watery but determined. She nodded silently, not daring to speak as she fought to control the storm of emotions raging within her. Snape's expression remained impassive, a faint hint of impatience flickering in his eyes as he waited for her response.

"Take all the time you need," he said curtly, his tone dismissive as he turned his attention back to his lesson.

"Thank you, professor." With a heavy heart, Y/n nodded once more, her resolve hardening in the face of his indifference. With one last glance at her teacher, she turned on her heel and strode out of the classroom, leaving behind a lingering sense of unease in her wake.

Theodore Nott, who had been witnessing the whole situation, was confused beyond belief. She was alright this breakfast, she had been chattering and smiling beautifully as usual with her friends. What made her so distressed? So distressed to the point she wouldn't even spare a glance in his way?

The boy raised his hand, ignoring the looks from his friends, and excused himself from class. Though Snape's questioning gaze unsettled him, he was free to go. And the moment that Snape had nodded, the boy was off running after the girl of his dreams.

Finally, she reached the courtyard, her sanctuary amidst the chaos of her emotions. Leaning against the cold stone wall, she allowed herself to surrender to her grief. Each soft sob echoed off the walls, a symphony of heartache that seemed to consume her entirely.

Lost in her misery, she didn't hear the approaching footsteps until it was too late. She hastily wiped away her tears, trying to compose herself as she heard someone round the corner.

"Y/n?"

She froze, all the blood draining from her face at the recognition of his voice.

From all the people that could have seen her at a state like this, why did it have to be him? She felt a weight of dread as his presence lingered from behind her.

She slowly turned around, looking at Theo through her red puffed-up eyes. His eyes softened and he kneeled down to sit beside her, his expression filled with concern and something else, something she couldn't quite decipher.

"Tesoro? Are you alright?" His voice was gentle, a soothing melody amidst the chaos of her thoughts.

Forcing a smile, she nodded weakly, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm fine, Theodore. Just... just a bit tired. It's been a bad day."

But he wasn't fooled by her facade. Stepping closer, he tilted his head at the sight of how broken-hearted you looked, and in his own chest, he felt a pang of pain. "You don't have to pretend with me, Y/n. I can see that something's wrong."

The vulnerability in his eyes shattered the last of her resolve, and she broke down before him, the truth tumbling from her lips in a rush of emotion. "The boy I like... he doesn't like me back," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper as she stared down at her hands, unable to meet Theodore's gaze.

The pang in Theodore's heart deepened, now with a mix of jealousy and seething anger. Who would make such a warm and bella ragazza, cry like this?

"Well, that's his loss," Theodore said, his tone casual yet tinged with a hint of something deeper. "Because if it were up to me, I'd never let someone as incredible as you slip through my fingers."

Y/n's eyes widened in astonishment, her heart skipping a beat at his words. "Theodore..." she began, her voice barely a whisper.

Y/n couldn't help but glance at him, a mixture of confusion and curiosity in her eyes. "You think so?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Nott leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over her ear as he whispered, "Of course. Anyone who can't see how incredible you are doesn't deserve you."

He pulled away to look into her eyes, bringing his hand up to wipe away the stubborn tear that fell from her eye.

"Do you remember that time when I was feeling so lost and alone?" he began, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on her cheek. "I tried to push you away, but you refused to leave my side. You stayed with me, even when I didn't deserve it. You're such a kind and loving soul, your soul made mine feel love again like it had never felt before."

Before she could dwell on the thought, He continued as he cupped her face with his hand, his tone growing more teasing with each word. "And besides, if this boy doesn't appreciate you, then he's clearly not worth your time," he declared, a mischievous glint dancing in his stormy eyes. "I mean, he must be pretty stupid to let someone like you cry tears of heartbreak. Che idiota è quel ragazzo."

Y/n couldn't help but laugh at his playful jab, the tension between them easing as she felt the weight of Theodore's words lift from her shoulders. In that moment, surrounded by his warmth and the teasing sparkle in his eyes, she dared to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, he had loved her back.

"There it is, that beautiful smile," Theo remarked, his heart swelling at the sight of her radiant expression. He couldn't help but feel a surge of affection as he watched the way her cheeks popped out when she laughed, prompting him to playfully pinch one with his hand as he joined in her laughter.

But as the symphony of their laughter faded into a comfortable silence, Theodore found himself unable to tear his gaze away from hers. His eyes wandered down to her lips, drawn like a magnet to their soft curve, and he felt a familiar warmth spreading through him, igniting a longing he couldn't ignore.

In that lingering moment of silent connection, Theodore's heart pounded in his chest, his breath catching as he felt an irresistible pull towards her. Without a second thought, he leaned in closer, his lips gently brushing against hers in a tender, hesitant kiss.

Time seemed to stand still as the world fell away around them, leaving only the sensation of her lips against his, sending sparks of electricity coursing through his veins. In that stolen moment, all doubts and fears melted away, replaced by an overwhelming rush of emotion as Theodore finally dared to seize the opportunity he had longed for.

And as he deepened the kiss, his fingers tangling in her hair, Theodore knew with absolute certainty that he had found where he belonged – in the embrace of the one who had captured his heart from the very beginning.

"Wait wait!" Y/n mumbled against his lips, pulling away with a concerned look upon her face. He looked up at her in regret, a fear that the kiss didn't feel the same for her made him gulp.

"What about Daphne?"

The regret on his face morphed into confusion.

"What about.. Daphne?" He repeated.

"Yeah, aren't you guys like a thing?" She hesitated, searching for answers in his eyes as she furrowed her eyebrows and wrapped her arms around herself uncomfortably.

"What? Daphne likes Blaise."

"Daphne likes Blaise." She repeated, a small smile forming upon her face at the realization.

"Wait, how about you? Who's the boy you said that didn't like you back?"

Y/n laughed out at the realization, ignoring Theo's confused face which made her laugh even more. Butterflies danced in her stomach at the feeling of relief, the joy she felt making her heart beat quickly.

"You! Nott, you were the boy who didn't like me back! Blaise told Pansy that you and Daphne were a thing!" She watched his face for a reaction, and at first he was still confused, but as he realized, his mouth was agape as he said "Ah."

The two soon shared their laughter again, Theo apologizing for the tears he had accidentally made her cry, "All along I was the fool who made you cry," he admitted, his tone soft yet tinged with regret. "I'm sorry, il mio tesoro, if only I had known. How can I make it up to you?"

A playful smirk danced on his lips as he pulled her in closer, his gaze drifting down to her grinning lips.

"I don't know if you can ever make it up to me, Nott. You hurt me pretty bad." She playfully said, wiping away her already dried tears. "Well actually maybe, you can start by kissing me again, you fool."

With a chuckle, Theodore leaned in, capturing her lips in a sweet and passionate kiss, knowing in that moment that he had finally found where he belonged – in the arms of the one who had stood by him through tears and laughter, through every trial and triumph.

⋆｡°✩

Hi! This is my first ever upload on tumblr, so it may not be perfect but hey who cares I got inspired by a personal experience! If you notice any grammatical mistakes, no you didn't. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! xx

[my masterlist⋆｡°✩]

#theo nott #theodore nott x reader #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #theodore nott x you #theodore nott imagine #theo nott imagine #theodore nott #fanfiction #fluff #light angst #theodore nott oneshot #theo nott x y/n #slytherin #harry potter #oneshot

[lqvesoph]

Hot Wings - LN4

landonorris x fem!reader

summary: your boyfriend does the hot wing challenge for quadrant and you make a little cameo for the first time ever

warnings: none, just fluff

masterlist | taglist

"Baby, you've got no right to laugh, you're not going this", your boyfriend Lando called, he would've laughed if his mouth wasn't burning at the moment.

He was currently filming a YouTube video for Quadrant and Max and him were eating hot wings while Niran asked them questions.

At the moment they were at the 7th wing, at level 300,000.

Max and Niran looked over at you behind the camera when Lando called your name.

Your boyfriend waved you over, signaling you to come to him. You hesitantly stood up, as you haven’t really confirmed your relationship yet, and walked to him and his best friend.

"My lips are burning", he mumbled, leaning back against your stomach, his head tilted back so he could hold eye contact.

You let your finger trail over his cheek, placing them onto his full red lips.

Lando leaned further into you. "Ohh, your fingers are cold, baby. I've never loved your fingers more than in this moment", the driver muttered, wrapping his arms around your middle, to keep you in place.

Max and Niran broke out in hysterical laughters as soon as Lando stopped speaking and even you couldn’t help a grin forming on your face.

"If you say so", you muttered, pushing your fingers into his curls, wrapping them around your fingers.

"Stay", he demanded.

"You're full of milk", you complained, stroking over the wet patches on Lando's black shirt.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, baby", he cooed, not really paying attention, which made you chuckle.

"You wanna take a bite as well?", Max suggested, holding up a hot wing with some sauce on it.

His best friend addressing you, made Lando lift his cheek from your stomach and look up at you.

In the meantime, you nodded, taking the chicken wing from Max's hands and taking a bite.

You didn't want to admit it but Lando's reaction wasn't unreasonable. The sauce was fucking spicy. But you tried to not let it show too much.

"It's spicy, that's for sure", you managed to say, taking a sip of the cold milk next to Lando.

"Well, at least you didn't spit everywhere like Lando", Max chuckled, slapping his best friend's back.

"She never-", Lando started with a grin, looking up at you, but before he could say anything else, you put your hand over his mouth, stopping him from telling a stupid sexual joke.

"You didn't eat the earlier ones", Lando complained, his voice muffled due to your fingers on his lips.

You listened to Lando answering Niran's question, with your boyfriend's arm still wrapped around your legs.

"Your lips alright again, mate?", Max asked teasingly.

"Mmh-mmh", Lando asked, looking up with his head thrown back. You could read his face telling you he wanted a kiss. You shook your head but still leaned down to peck his cheek, not feeling quite comfortable to properly kiss him with a camera recording you and in a video that will be posted on social media soon, before walking back to your chair behind the camera.

"You okay over there?" Max asked, after a few more hot wings when he noticed you pacing up and down behind the camera.

"My lips are burning", you replied. The boys laughed. "No, really it's actually painful", you called back, chuckling.

"You want ice cream", Lando offered, holding up the vanilla ice cream box. You agreed and walked over, the spoon already ready in Lando's hands.

You opened your mouth, letting Lando feed you. "You know Lando's salvia is all over that, he drooled on it", Max pointed out, looking at the spoon in Lando's hand.

"My salvia has been different places already", Lando quickly replied, not even taking his gaze of you.

"LANDO!", you yelled, realizing what he just said and threw the empty milk can that stood on the table at him.

Lando dodged the can successfully. "What? It's true", Lando laughed, smearing ice cream on your cheek.

Then he pulled a third chair closer for you to sit on.

"If there's anything you would change in Formula 1, what would you do?", Niran went on with the questions. "I'd make them do this. On the grid. During the national lanthem- lanthem", Lando replied, struggling to pronounce the words coming out of his mouth.

Max and you started laughing. "It's alright, baby", you laughed, making Lando look up at you. "You have the exact same look on your face as if you just came from a night club, completely shitfaced", you told him with a chuckle.

"I- I do talk li- la", Lando slurred, only confirming his words by the way he said them. You laughed and buried your fingers in his curls when he laid his head on the table.

"I need something to eat, something that's not spicy", he whined and sat back in his chair. "You want noodles?", you asked, grinning at the state your boyfriend was in.

Lando looked up and nodded, looking like a little kid. You smiled and ruffled his curls before standing up and walking to the kitchen upstairs.

Only a few minutes later Lando and Max came up from the filming room. Your boyfriend came up behind you and wrapped his arm around your body, his head resting on your shoulder.

"I’m almost done", you told Lando, who nodded and sat down next to Max on at the kitchen counter.

You took two plates from the cupboard and placed them in front of the two boys before putting the noodles along with the sauce on the table.

Lando pulled you closer like he had earlier while filming as well and put his head against your stomach.

Ria entered the kitchen and chuckled at the scene in front of her. Both boys looking like they just went through the most traumatic experience of their lives, with milk dripping down their shirts. "What happened to you two?", she laughed.

"Now you wait till you do that video", Lando called, grabbing his burning throat after, making you and Ria chuckle.

Comments:

fan: Y/N CAMEO??? IN A QUADRANT VIDEO

fan: She gets along with Max so well, I love it

fan: Ria is probably so happy she doesn't need to deal with the guys on her own anymore

fan: I don't think we need an official statement about their relationship anymore

> fan: Yeah, I think that's confirmation enough...

> fan: "My salvia has been different places already"

> fan: Charlotte would sue him for that

> fan: PAHAHAH SHE DEFINITELY WOULD

fan: Her voice is so calming, I could listen to her talk all day

> fan: Her accent is so adorable

fan: Y/n immediately burying her hands in Lando's curls is the cutest thing I've seen all day

> fan: Can we blame her? His curls do look amazingly touchable

fan: Now after this, I wanna see drunk Lando

fan: I wanna see more of boyfriend Lando, he’s the cutest

taglist

@im-an-overthinker @buendiabebeta @hungryhungariann @ohthemisssery @kenopsiababe @sawendel @enjoymyloves @ricsaigaslec @ravenqueen27 @temqr1 @leclerc16s @theamazingsimplethings-blog @coldmuffinbanditshoe @hotchnisscm97 @andtheworldiscrashingdownonme @moneymasnn @justme2042 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @pleasantducktimetravel @anthonykatebridgerton @lisannehus @hannahholland1811 @lighttsoutlewis @mydutchproblem @dan3avocado @alwaysclassyeagle @cocomiracle @allthisfortommy @soleilgrec @cheeryara-blog @person2345-blog @aquamariene-me @judespoision @sbgal @teti-menchon0604 @darleneslane @flower-name @mehrmonga @bingewatche

#lando norris #f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris angst #ln4 #quadrant

[uzurakis]

THEIR ENDEARMENTS FOR YOU?

featuring: gojo satoru. itadori yuuji. fushiguro megumi. nanami kento. geto suguru. fushiguro toji.

n. first time calling you by their specific endearments! megumi’s one is quite similar with this drabble that i made, just an alternative where he said it consciously though. enjoy, reblogs are v appreciated <3

GOJO SATORU. "darling? since when did you become so cheesy?" you teased, poking him in the ribs. gojo chuckled, his eyes never not sparkling with impishness. "oh, you know me. i like to keep you on your toes," he commented, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

"well, mr. cheesy, i guess i'll have to come up with a nickname for you too," you said with a grin. he replied with a raised eyebrow and a smirk on his lips. "oh, i can't wait to hear what you come up with, darling."

GETO SUGURU. your heart skipped a beat at the endearment. "princess, huh? god, you're such a charmer," you replied, a smile tugging at your lips as you play with his locks. “i just know you’ll like it, right, princess?”

geto pulled you closer to your embrace, his warm breath brushing against your skin. "then i’ll call you my prince then, suguru," you murmured, leaning into his embrace, feeling like the luckiest person in the world to have him by your side.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you turned to look at him, surprise blinking in your eyes at the endearment. "did you just call me babe?" you asked, a chuckle stretched out. megumi nodded, one shy smile playing on his own lips. "y-yeah, i did. it just slipped out. is it okay?”

then a warmth spread through your chest. "i like it," you admitted, feeling a rush of fondness for him. with his head on the crook of your neck, he mumbled, “good, because i think it suits you perfectly, babe.”

ITADORI YUUJI. "girlfriend? that’s soo basic,” you questioned, playfully rolling your eyes. he chuckled, squeezing your hand affectionately. "yeah, you heard me. you're my one and only, after all."

before you could respond, he continued, his smile widening. "but wait, there's more! babyboo, babygirl, sweetie, wifey, pookie-poo, hot stuff, bub,” he rattled off, each word accompanied by a wink. you couldn't help but laugh at his cheekiness, shaking your head in amusement. “it’s never going to end, isn’t it?”

KENTO NANAMI. "honey?" you paused, feeling a flutter of wonder at the endearment. nanami nodded, his expression serene. "yes, it seemed fitting," he said, gaze steady as he met your eyes and tone measured as always.

"alright, call me your honey from now on," you said softly, reaching across to place your hand on his. he offered you a small, reserved smile in return, his calm demeanor never faltering. "i'm glad you like it, honey.”

FUSHIGURO TOJI. you turned to him, repeating the words he said, “so, my love, is it?”. he nodded, his gaze intense as he looked into your eyes. "yeah. you mean everything to me, love,” toji confessed, his tone sincere as he gave a quick peck on your temple.

"since when are you so romantic? i like this side of you,” you leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling content in his arms.

"good to know. i'll make sure to keep it up, my love.”

@uzurakis — rqs are open <3

#.writing #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #geto suguru x reader #geto x you #geto suguru #geto fluff #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fluff #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x you #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori yuuji #itadori x reader #itadori fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami fluff #fushiguro x reader

[likegoldintheair]

"Hey, baby," Tommy's voice carries through the apartment, "have you seen my shirt?"

Buck's standing in Tommy's bedroom, pulling said shirt over his head and ready to reply that yes, he has in fact seen his shirt and no, Tommy can't have it because Buck's already wearing it, when he pauses. Baby. That's- that's new.

It's just a word. It shouldn't make Buck's heart speed up or fill his belly with far too many butterflies for it to count as healthy.

Baby.

He closes his eyes and lets the word, that tiny little four letter word, echoe in his head. The memory of Tommy's voice repeating it over and over again, until it eventually ends up in Buck's own mouth before falling out as nothing more than a soft whisper.

"Are you okay?"

Buck blinks his eyes open, mouth still open around the word, and when he is met with a half-naked Tommy who is looking at him with a bemused expression, he all but melts.

"You, uh, you called me baby." Buck offers, as if that's an answer to Tommy's question. Maybe it is. "You've never- you haven't called me that before."

Tommy's face softens at that, his eyes dropping down to Buck's chest before finding his eyes again, eyes sparkling. He steps closer, until he can reach out and grip Buck's waist, the warmth of his hands noticeable even through two layers of fabric. Buck's own hands find their way to Tommy's arms, slowly sliding up until they rest at the soft curve of his neck, thumbs barely brushing the underside of his jaw.

"Well, you are my baby," Tommy says then, matter of factly, gently pulling Buck closer. "Aren't you?"

"Y-yeah?" Buck swallows, eyes dropping down to Tommy's lips for a moment. "I- yeah, I-I am?"

"You are."

Tommy just... looks at him, eyes so incredibly fond that Buck can barely breathe with it, before leaning in to press a soft kiss onto Buck's lips. He doesn't protest too much or at all, actually, when Buck immediately deepens it. Eventually, though, Tommy pulls away, panting just enough for Buck to feel a bit proud in a I did that to him kind of way.

"I'm really your baby, huh."

"Very much so," Tommy hums, one hand leaving Buck's waist to over his belly, up his chest, and then down again. Buck wonders, for a moment, if they're going to be late for work, which- he wouldn't be opposed to that. But Tommy simply pinches the loose fabric of the sweater, pulls at it a little, and says, "you're a thief, too."

Buck opens his mouth to protest, but Tommy just gives him a look then, as if to say try me. A smile is tugging at the corner of his mouth, though, and his free hand gives Buck's waist a small squeeze.

"I mean," Buck starts, heart pounding in his chest. "What's yours is mine, right, babe?"

"Babe, huh?"

"Darling?" Buck tries, knows he probably looks like a fool from how big he's grinning. "Sugarbuns? Pookie? Hot stuff?"

Tommy kisses him then, and Buck lets himself get lost in it again. When one of his hands slips down from Tommy's neck, Tommy's quick to reach up and take hold of it, pressing it against his own chest. He presses another kiss onto Buck's lips, hot and searing, as if he's pouring his entire being into it. When he breaks away, he doesn't go far, his forehead resting against Buck's. They stand like that for a moment, breathing each other in.

"You're still a thief, though," Tommy says eventually, voice low and rough, as he taps his fingertip against the back of Buck's hand where it rests just above his heart, and Buck wonders of Tommy's still talking about the shirt when he whispers, "you can keep it."

#hello idk what this is also i wrote it in twenty minutes #so if you see a grammatical error no you didn't #anyways enjoy <3 #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #911 fic #bucktommy fic #nea writes