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#this may or may not have been based off of an actual first date i had
pa-pa-plasma · 2 years
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I just watched the Sea Beast again (2nd viewing, 1st was when it came out) & it just kicked up all of my grievances again. Don't get me wrong, I love this movieーgood visuals, good voice actorsーbut from a writing standpoint it sucks so fucking bad & I couldn't remember the soundtrack if you put a gun to my head. might write an rant essay on it idfk
#this is probably the most unpopular of opinions but im so fucking serious you don't understand#first time i watched it i yelled incoherently for like an hour afterwards#WHERE IS THE REST OF THE PLOT?? WHAT THE FUCK#i'm still yelling about it. i'm still mad. i should've just watched How To Train Your Dragon because it's basically the same thing but good#the Sea Beast is like if HTTYD ended at Hiccup touching Hookfang's nose in the ring & then Toothless just flies off into the distance#& they never interact with dragons ever again#i GET what they were TRYING to do but like WHERE IS THE REST OF THE PLOT WHY DOES IT END WITHOUT ANSWERING ANY OF THE QUESTIONS IT POSED#WHY DID THE WAR START WHAT HAPPENED TO THE HUNTERS WHO BASED THEIR LIVES ON THIS INDUSTRY#WHAT HAPPENED TO THE ROYALS WHAT ABOUT THE OTHER TOWNS CITIES KINGDOMS WHAT ABOUT THE FUCKING SEA BEASTS YOU'RE KILLING ME HERE#this entire movie just reeks of ''let's make a movie based on people's recent interest in thalassophobia''#''okay what should it be about?'' ''fuck dude idk just copy httyd''#my biggest problem is i can see the love put into it. i can see they had good ideas. but they didn't wrap it up#not even badly. they just never wrapped it up at all. there is no conclusion. it's just like ''fuck you. the end. figure it out yourself''#i may be a bit harsh but this has been like building up inside me & i'm exploding now#the conclusion of this movie is MISSING & no one cares#httyd is great because i can remember the theme song & the plot & the characters & it has an actual fucking conclusion#& also Fishlegs & Snotlout are bisexual & dating in the show which is pretty great#but the first httyd movie is perfect as a standalone film. you don't have to get into the shows & the other movies to enjoy it#the Sea Beast just feels like it's trying to set something up. like a show or sequels or something. like they made it with the intention of#having it be a trilogy or having a RTTE type sequel show#i just wanna know i'm not crazy in having this opinion. like did anyone else feel this? like you watched half a movie & then it ended?#i've seen bad movies before but this one bothers me because it's actually good. it just fucking sucks too
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ithebookhoarder · 1 month
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Special Delivery (Spencer Reid x F!Reader)
Description: Something's different about Reid and no-one knows what. However, a surprise delivery to the BAU may just have the answer...
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Warnings: Food references, mentions of mental health, mentions of medical procedures, references to smutty behaviour, Spencer being adorable
Masterlist
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“Ok. Am I the only one who’s noticed something’s different with Reid lately?” Morgan remarked, watching as the said boy-genuis made his way across the bullpen and over to his desk. 
“Yeah,” Emily hummed, watching the young agent over the rim of coffee cup. She had to admit it - as much as it annoyed her - Morgan was right; Spencer has definitely been acting different. If anything, she was surprised it had taken them all this long to say anything. 
Normally, they were all over each other the moment they noticed anything even remotely different about each other. Hell, she’d barely taken a step off the elevator, after getting an extra few inches cut off at her latest haircut, before the team were quizzing her about possible life changes and whether or not they needed to be worried about her. 
It was a hazard of working with profilers for a living; it was almost impossible to keep anything a secret. No wonder they were all intrigued and slightly confused by the fact that none of them had been able to pinpoint what was going on with their friend. 
The most notable difference was the gradual disappearance of the dark circles under his eyes. Reid also seemed happier in general, less quiet and reserved when talking to others, and it was starting to make agents talk. 
Morgan and Emily stood up straighter as JJ walked over to join the unofficial gossip session. She took one look at the pair and knew immediately what they were whispering about. 
“Are you talking about Reid?”
“Oh yeah,” Morgan grinned, “my money’s on him having finally found someone.”
Emily choked, seemingly as a result of inhaling her coffee at the grand statement. “What?”
“Oh, come on, Miss ‘super spy’. Just look at him,” he teased. “He’s been distracted. He’s all goo-goo eyed and he’s been leaving this place at a normal hour. Like… tell me that doesn’t scream ‘I got a date’.”
“What? It could be loads of things. It doesn’t have to be a date, right JJ?”
“He’s probably just happy. We’ve all been getting more sleep lately and our paperwork is non-existent at the moment,” JJ murmured, reaching past the pair of them to grab for the coffee pot. She was clearly doing her best to try and put this line of questioning to rest. She’d always been the first to protect the younger agent she now saw as a little brother. “Besides, we all know he’s not interested in dating, he hasn’t been since…. Well, you know.”
Morgan groaned. “But what about the secret texts, JJ!” he protested, ignoring the look Emily shot him in return. “He’s been glued to that phone of his and keeps giggling like a school kid. Then there’s the lunches! I know he’s always been organised and likes things a certain way, but damn. His lunches have been like next level - and actually healthy? And I swear he’s had jello like every day.”
JJ rolled her eyes. “You’re basing your profile on jello? Is that it?” 
“Well, no I mean… did you not hear the part about the texting and the taking secret calls and the fact he didn’t come out for drinks last night-”
“-Can’t we just be glad for him? Whatever is going on, it’s good for him. Let’s just drop it, ok? He’ll tell us when he’s ready if there’s anything to share.”
“JJ’s right,” Emily echoed. “Reid’s just … happy. End of.”
By the way Morgan frowned it looked like it definitely was not the end of this conversation, but he never got the chance to argue. In fact, he was interrupted as the main doors opened next to them and a rather lost looking receptionist hurried through. 
Normally, this wouldn’t have been worth noticing but all three of them spun around at the sound of him calling out the name, “Agent Reid? uh… Is Agent Reid here?”
“Oh, uh, here!” Spencer shouted, soundly vaguely like he was taking roll call. It didn’t help that he shot his arm up in the air too, almost falling off his desk chair as he lurched to his feet and hurried over. “That’s… that’s me - and it’s Dr Reid, but it doesn’t matter. How can I help?”
“Oh, uh, there’s a Y/N at reception for you,” the unfortunate messenger managed, gesturing back the way they’d came. “I told them to wait whilst I came to check with you as they’re not on your visitor list-”
Spencer didn’t even let the poor man finish. He was already racing for the door before the man had even made it to the end of the sentence. Needless to say, the others were quick to follow, with Morgan smugly boasting “told you soooo” as he went. 
There was no way on earth they were missing this and considering Hotch and Rossi hadn’t arrived yet it wasn’t like they were about to get their asses handed to them for missing their briefing either. 
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Despite the amount Spencer had told you about the BAU, you were still surprised by how different the FBI offices were to what you’d imagined. 
The offices were larger and the sheer number of people walking about in suits and carrying a side arm made you feel even more nervous, and that was already a problem considering you were stood there wearing neon blue scrubs, embroidered with jungle animals on the pocket. 
You were like a walking, flashing sign, screaming ‘outsider - does not work here’.  Thankfully, you weren’t going to be there long. You were only swinging by on your way to work, hoping to catch your utterly perfect - and utterly forgetful - boyfriend, before the start of your shift. 
Speaking of Spencer, you had only been standing there for possibly five minutes when you saw him barreling through the doors towards you. 
“Hey, Spence-“
“Y/N? Honey? What’s going on?” he gushed, hurrying over and taking your face in his hands. You could see his wide eyes frantically scanning every inch of you, looking for some kind of problem or sign that you were not ok. “Is everything alright? What are you doing here?”
You felt your cheeks warm at the sudden display of concern, very much aware of the scene your wonderful boyfriend was making. Spencer wasn’t normally the most affectionate in public, preferring to save those rare moments for when the two of you were alone. The fact he was so worried about what might have brought you to the FBI on a Tuesday morning was touching and made your heart swell. 
“I’m fine, Spence. Don’t worry-” 
“Then what are you doing here?” 
“You forgot something,” you soothed, pulling back and reaching into your satchel. It was impossible to miss the way his face reddened as you pulled out a neatly labeled Dr Who Tupperware by way of explanation. “I’m here because you were in such a rush this morning that you forgot your lunch.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, ‘oh’,” you teased. “I couldn’t exactly let you go hungry so I thought I’d drop it off on my way to work. I don’t start till later as I’m covering Amelia’s shift as she’s visiting her sister in Boston, so I thought I’d swing by.”
Sure, Spencer was an adult and you could have let him just buy something from the cafeteria or order something in for lunch, but considering how much effort he had gone to to cook with you the day before you felt bad letting it go to waste. 
He’d been so proud of the way the recipe had turned out, following the instructions and your guidance with extreme precision and care. The result had been a rather tasty looking dish - and it had the added benefit of being healthy too. You were always worried that Spencer seemed to think fast food, like Pizza, was a food group. Then again, he had been forced to be an adult pretty fast and had been in college so young that it wasn’t a surprise that no-one had been there to teach him about cooking and eating right. He had been too focused on his studies to even think about anything else.  
It was something he had been working on since you’d got together and now cooking had become one of your favourite date night activities. It didn’t hurt that you often ended up spilling food all over yourselves and needing to shower together - it was just a lovely bonus. In fact, your screensaver was now a picture of you and Spencer, covered in flour, and beaming ear to ear. 
“Thank you, that… that’s so nice,” Spencer stammered, “but I feel bad. You didn’t need to go out of your way and bring it to me.”
“As I say, it’s on my way to work. It’s no trouble.”
“Well, still-“
“Hey, pretty boy!” 
Spencer froze. 
“You gonna introduce us to your friend, or what?”
Spencer opened his mouth but instantly closed it again. You knew by the way he rolled his eyes and began muttering under his breath that whoever had shouted that had definitely been talking to him. 
You couldn’t help but giggle. “Pretty boy, huh?” 
“Don’t ask,” he whined, taking a deep breath as you looked over his shoulder and saw a small group of people now making their way towards you. “I should probably mention that I wasn’t sure how comfortable you were with me mentioning you, so I haven’t told anyone about us yet and those idiots are some of my team and I would say ‘run’ but they’re all faster than me.”
“Ah… I see. So I’m guessing that one is Morgan?” 
“Yes.”
“Well, no time like the present,” you cheered, turning and waving at the approaching trio. “Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N - Spencer’s girlfriend.”
“Wow. A girlfriend?” cooed Morgan, reaching over to pull you into a hug before the other two could stop him. To their credit, they looked slightly embarrassed by the display but they were clearly too interested in your identity to care. “And a doctor to boot? Didn’t know he had it in him. I’m Derek Morgan.”
“Oh, I worked that out. It’s good to finally meet you all.” 
The others were quick to echo the sentiment, with JJ and Emily quickly introducing themselves in tandem. They were also quick to invite you inside the office for some coffee, but thankfully you weren’t lying when you said you had to get to work. 
“You know how it is. People to take care of, medical cases to solve, lives to save - same old, same old. All I’m missing is a snazzy badge and I could be an FBI agent.” 
“Ha ha.” Spencer’s smile was genuine as you stole a kiss before making a dash for your car. However, you could see the nerves in his eyes at being left alone to face the great inquisition that now awaited him following the discovery of your existence. You were pretty sure the entire BAU would know about you before it even hit lunchtime. “I’ll see you later, ok?” 
“Of course. Just let me know if you’re coming home or if you’re off saving the world in another state - otherwise I can’t promise I won’t eat all the leftovers before you get back.” 
He chuckled. “Will do.” 
With that, you bid the others goodbye, making sure to agree when they asked (more like insisted) that you came to their family dinner on Friday night at none other than Rossi’s house. The rest of the team were going to be begging to meet you after this, and they were all bringing their families along too. 
If Spencer wasn’t comfortable with you going you were pretty sure the team would believe it if you said you’d got called into a last minute surgery, but you’d check later when you both returned to the apartment you now called your home. Either way, you were going to have to make something to take with you, just in case. 
As your grandpa had always said, there was no quicker way to someone’s heart than through their stomach. Or, as in Spencer's case, with an unlimited supply of Jello...
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nnon0 · 1 month
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JJH fic recs
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been getting a little hard trying to find long fics to read these days but here are some that i complied in the last month or so :)
(🫀) -personal faves
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all these years @domjaehyun
WC: 34.1k
fluff, smut, angst; childhood friends-to-lovers!au, college!au, neighbors!au
Just friends @lonelyharmonies
WC: 22k
Strangers-to-friends- to-lovers!au , college au
what happens when you wake up in someone else’s bed after getting drunk in a party?
(🫀) Only @ppangjae
WC: 21.6k
almost!lovers au
You like to believe crossing paths with Jaehyun after graduation is just pure coincidence. He always comes and goes. But what if he decides to stay? To stick around? To give what was an ‘almost’ a chance?
Romeo roulette @wincore
WC:21.1k
soulmate au, office au, fake dating
if finding your soulmate is the same as a damn game of Russian roulette, you are determined to not pull the trigger at all. except, you know who your soulmate is and he doesn’t—and given a choice to pretend, you find that jaehyun is the lesser of the two burdens to bear.
he fell first and he fell harder @taurusdaylight
WC: 18.7k
Basketball captain!jaehyun, childhood-friends-to-lovers
jeong jaehyun really loves basketball. but also, he’s terribly in love with his childhood best friend of seventeen years, you.
(🫀) all i wanted @yutaholic
WC: 17k
heartbreakers, smut
A year has passed since you last saw your best friend, Jaehyun, but the man who returns is not the boy you once knew and loved. Jaehyun will barely speak to you and you don’t know why, but you both may be exactly what the other needs to mend your broken hearts.
(🫀)The Apple of My Eye @sehunniepotwrites
WC: 17k
school! au , teacher!au , Kindergarten teacher!jaehyun
As a young and handsome kindergarten teacher of two years, Jeong Jaehyun was used to receiving presents during Teacher’s Appreciation Week. This, however, was the first year Jaehyun wanted to give a present of appreciation to someone else—his new and ever-so-lovable teacher’s assistant.
(🫀)song for a little sparrow @ppangjae
WC:13.7k
poet!jaehyun x painter!reader , strangers-to-lovers
As a burnt out painter, you packed one suitcase and flew a one-way trip to Paris in hopes of finding your passion again. In the city of love, the last thing you expected was to bump into a man who doesn’t believe in love. But you do, and you find yourself showing him the wonders of love and falling in love. Just don’t fall in love with him.
I like me better (when i’m with you) @tyonfs
WC:11.8k
friends to enemies to lovers, sports au , smut
there was no one else on the planet that made your blood boil like jeong jaehyun did. you never thought your feelings toward him were anything past pure hatred, but when you were lost in the feeling of his lips on yours and his hands on your body, you couldn’t help but think that maybe a part of you didn’t completely hate his guts. 
Someone to Bring Home @rouiyan
WC: 10.2k
Med student!jaehyun, College au, Brothers best friend , home for thanksgiving
synopsis — “if you’ve been waiting for fallin’ in love, babe, you don’t have to wait on me.” (sanctuary - joji)
Boyfriend material @mochidoie
WC: 6.2k
fake dating au, strangers-to-lovers , slight angst
Although you and Jaehyun had never spoken a word to each other before this class project, he asks you to be in a fake relationship in order to prove to his longtime crush that he is boyfriend material.
Back up Valentine @tyonfs
WC: 2.9k
Spiderman!jaehyun
you don’t have any unrealistic expectations for valentine’s day considering your love life has never flourished, but the least your best friend could’ve done was not summon an intergalactic army of an alien species during your first blind date ever.
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SERIES
S.C.S; ayakashi @starlightkun
WC:66.2k
heavily based off yet another otome game, ayakashi: romance reborn ; bc of this, all the lore used in here is inspired by/based on/taken from the lore of the game, not the actual lore of traditional ayakashi/yokai stories
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foldingfittedsheets · 6 months
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When I was young I was dating this absolute cocknob right as I graduated high school. More on that later.
As a present ostensibly to me (but mostly my folks) I was whisked away after graduation to spend two weeks in Europe with my parents. The plan was to see London, Paris, and Heidelberg.
I was moody and a teenager and was largely disgruntled by this fabulous adventure. I went along with sullen foot dragging and black looks. I commandeered my reprehensible boyfriends enormous black hoodie and wore it on the trip. At the start of our jaunt into London I mentioned offhandedly to my mom that it was burning when I peed.
“You’re just dehydrated, and your period is about to start.”
She was right on both counts. I upped my water content, and had my period (which may have contributed to my overall ill humors.)
So we found ourselves in a tiny hotel in Paris, a week into our jaunt, when I repeated, “Man, it just really burns when I pee.”
“What?!” my mom demanded.
“I told you like a week ago that it was burning.”
“Augh! Now we have to go to the hospital!” she proclaimed.
“What?! Why?”
“Because,” she snapped, “You have a bladder infection.”
More bickering ensued, and my temperament was not improved by knowing I’d told her I was having an issue a week ago and been ignored.
My dad heard about the itinerary shift with resignation and we trooped down the narrow stairs as a family to ask the concierge where the nearest hospital was.
The absolutely lovely man at the desk was immediately so concerned when we asked for directions. “Is everything okay?” he asked with very genuine sympathy and I muttered that everything was fine, we just needed a quick visit.
Lucky for us the hospital was only a few blocks away. We walked there and the building was massive, home to what appeared to be several separate wings but no obvious main entrance.
We wandered inside and it was like a weird dream. There was no one around. Huge echoing corridors met us as we peered in vain for a front desk or possibly signs. We searched with increasing frustration for anyone to talk to and somehow found ourselves in some tiny back offices.
A woman sat at her desk and looked bewildered to see three lost Americans approaching her. She greeted us and as a family we all simultaneously realized the massive flaw in our current course.
You see, dear reader, we did not speak French. My dad and I both spoke German. I inquired politely if she also spoke German and she shook her head looking increasingly cornered. We asked if she spoke English.
“Leetle…?” she replied.
“My daughter has a bladder infection! Blad-der?” My mother declared this at a high volume as if volume alone could bridge the communication gap, while simultaneously miming over my stomach, circling where she presumed my pelvis was under the gigantic black sweatshirt.
The woman’s expression turned extremely skeptical and she slowly repeated “Bladder…” She scrutinized me for a moment then said, “You go…. This?” And pointed to something purple on her desk.
“The purple signs?” my dad asked.
She nodded and we set off. I was stewing with resentment at my mom for having ignored my first complaint when we were in a country that spoke English. And also generalized hostility about being on the trip and the object of miming. Now here we were in a French hospital, lost and unable to communicate. I also was under no illusions that someone who didn’t know the word for purple would have any clue what bladder meant.
And slowly I realized what had actually happened as I peered at the purple signs. My mother circling my stomach with her hands, gesturing to my middle. The woman’s skeptical face.
“Hey mom,” I chirped, syrupy and smug. “I don’t speak French. But I do know that it’s a Latin based language. And wouldn’t you know, but that purple sign looks an awful lot like it says ‘maternity’ to me.”
“Shut up!” she snapped.
A few minutes later we stood surrounded by the moans of pregnant people and the cries of fresh new lungs wailing at their first taste of cold air.
I smiled sweetly at my disgruntled mother.
Luck was with us however. A nearby father noticed us and came over to ask if we needed help. With perfect English he gave us clear directions.
As we finally approached the right area for walk in services it was clear how we’d missed it the first time. A large swathe of the front of the building was covered in tarps. A huge wall sized window was broken, and construction was taking place, but at least it had a bustle of people and a clear line. We sat down in the queue of chairs.
While we sat some police officers came in. They walked up to a man ahead of us in line and with few words exchanged they handcuffed and led him politely away.
I was genuinely so out of reality. Every new thing that happened was like a bizarre dream from the empty hallways to the maternity ward and now this tarp strewn waiting room in which people could just be calmly arrested.
It was a shock to me then when we reached the front and the nurse spoke with perfectly unaccented English to assess me. Not only did she know bladder but a whole slew of other medical words I couldn’t guess at. I peed on a stick and we waited.
When we got the results she told me it was good because they could give me antibiotics today for my now confirmed infection, but bad because I’d need the doctor to sign off. I nodded and my mom and I were escorted to yet another small room to wait.
When the doctor arrived I felt suddenly gangly and awkward. I’m not tall but I towered over this tiny French woman who radiated calm composure. She seemed to be around my grandmothers age. She looked up at my blushing face and said, “Bladder infection?” Her English had a much stronger accent than the nurse but with the same medical competence.
I nodded.
She nodded too and we sat in a still contemplative moment on my UTI.
“Do you have… boyfriend?”
My face was on fire, every cell of me wanting to flee from this tiny perfect old woman. I nodded.
She nodded too. We sat still in the knowledge that I had a boyfriend and a UTI.
“Do you and your boyfriend do… it?” Her delicate accent stretched it into “eet.”
I don’t know if she didn’t know the word for sex or if she thought saying “it” was kinder but I wanted to melt into the floor and cease to exist to escape my increasing mortification and her meaningful pause. I nodded.
“Okay,” she said kindly. “When you and your boyfriend do… it… you must make pee pee.”
I writhed slightly under the psychic damage of this elegant medical professional saying “pee pee” and I nodded more emphatically hoping she’d desist this torture.
She continued. “If you and your boyfriend do… it… five times? You make five pee pees. If you do it ten times, you make ten pee pees.”
My face had never been hotter, all the blood in my body had volcanoed to my head, pounding in my ears and valiantly attempting to give me an aneurism to end my suffering. There is no mortification as acute to a teenager as an adult talking about sex and here was this medical professional telling me about… it.
Meanwhile, my mother. Who should have been regretting her poor parenting and reflecting on her neglect in failing impart this vital part piece of sex ed to her kid. Alas, she was laughing herself sick the corner. She added to my embarrassment by quietly repeating “pee pee” and “it” under her breath as she wheezed and chortled.
The doctor patted my hand kindly and handed me the antibiotics. I got to spend the rest of my trip in Europe avoiding direct sunlight and listening to my mother parrot “Do you do… eet?”
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nereidprinc3ss · 4 months
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hii i love love how u write spencer omds🥸
uhh i was wondering if you could write sth based off the song “we’ll never have sex” by leith ross? pls dont feel pressured to write this btw😭😭😭 hope ur having a good day lovely💗💗
hello my love i have no self control so this is extremely long and plotty but i love this song and i hope that this is any good at all crying emoji (i'm on a laptop LOL) enjoy!!
warnings/tags: angst/fluff, fem!reader, negative self-talk from reader, mentions of past sexual coercion/feeling used, mentions of past excessive drinking to combat social anxiety, ive been watching a lot of new girl lately and i think it shows, SO FRIENDS TO LOVERS, happy ending
You weren’t expecting to end up on Spencer Reid’s worn-leather couch at two in the morning, clutching a chipped mug of coffee in your hands as you listen to the sounds of the city from the street below. But there you are, sitting with your legs folded under you, in your favorite dress and first date-night makeup (now bleeding and smudged from all the crying.) And realizing that despite considering him one of your closest friends, you haven’t been to his apartment in a long time. There are, of course, good reasons for that—but you try to push those from your mind. 
“I’m really sorry about this,” you sigh, staring at your warped reflection in the glassy black surface of your coffee. Spencer is coming out of the small kitchen, now bearing his own cup. 
“Please, stop apologizing.” 
You glance up, tentatively studying him from behind the safety of your mug. While he may not have been asleep when you knocked on his door ten minutes ago, lachrymose and barely verbal, he must have been getting ready for bed. He’s clad in patterned pajama pants, mismatched socks, and an FBI crewneck that is just big enough to reveal the collar of the tee-shirt underneath. He’s already taken out his contacts, and you were startled by the reminder that he also has glasses. 
“So...” he begins, bringing you back to the present moment, “we don't have to talk about anything, if you don’t want to, but...” 
You sigh, watching coffee bubbles swirl like stars in a galaxy. 
“It’s fine. Honestly, I’m kind of embarrassed. I didn’t really think, I just... ended up here.” 
“Yeah... where did you come from?” he laughs quietly. “Not that I’m complaining. But I recall you not living super close by.” 
“No, no. I was actually on a date. Kind of.” 
“Ah.” There’s a beat of silence, and ostensibly Spencer is waiting for you to say more, but instead you take a sip from your mug. “At two in the morning?” You nod dully, staring at the labyrinthine pattern of the Persian rug.  
“I’m taking it that it wasn’t a very good date...?” 
A whoosh of air escapes from your puffed cheeks. 
“No it was not. Not by the end, anyway. It actually started really well, which made it even more disappointing when he...” you laugh, but there’s not much humor in it. “Well, when he kicked me out of his car on a street corner because I didn’t want to sleep with him.” 
You don’t look to see Spencer’s reaction—only take another long, baleful sip of coffee and ignore the heavy silence.  
“I’m really sorry. You... you deserve so much better than that.” 
An attempt at a jaded scoff from you falls flat. 
“Yeah, well. Tell that to the last three white house interns I’ve gone on dates with. It’s the same thing every time.” 
“Have you considered going on fewer dates with white house interns...?” The nervous humor is a thin veil over genuine critique. You shrug, biting the inside of your cheek. 
“It’s not just them. Every single guy I’ve liked since I was 15 has been like this. Even my past relationships, I felt like I was almost... tricked into, you know? I mean, these guys, they act all understanding and willing to take it slow or whatever, until you’re in a relationship, and suddenly they’re guilt tripping you so hard and making you feel so obligated to...” you catch yourself just in time, glancing up at Spencer. You’re not sure what to make of his expression. The drawn brow and slightly squinted eyes trained so intently on you could be sympathy, or anger, or pity, or apathy—you look away, not sure you even want to know what he’s thinking. “Sorry. You don’t need to hear all about that. Basically romance is exhausting and since I’ll clearly be single forever I’m considering running away to join a nunnery.” 
When he doesn’t respond for too long, you look back up quizically. 
“I’m not sure you know what romance actually is,” he says as soon as your gaze meets his, like the eye-contact activated some kind of hair-trigger in his vocal box. 
You blink, lowering the coffee cup to your lap. 
Says Spencer Reid? 
“...sorry?” 
He flushes, stammering to clarify himself. 
“I just meant—I—I know I’m not exactly fighting women off with a stick—” he interrupts himself with a self-conscious (adorable) laugh— “but... but I have been in love, at least once.”  
“Maeve,” you say, gently—trying to shove down bitter guilt as you remember how jealous you’d been when Spencer had first told you about her. “I remember.” 
He swallows and nods. 
“We never even met—we just talked. All the time. I had no idea what she looked like. But it didn’t matter at all. Because I knew her, and I loved her. Maybe things would have gone further if I hadn’t been calling her from public phone booths, but that wasn’t the most important thing to either of us. We were still in love.” You try to shut out the sharp ache in your chest. Being jealous of the way he speaks about a dead woman is so wrong.  
“What I’m trying to say is that romance isn’t solely about sex, or even physical appearance. It sounds to me like you’ve been with a lot of men who don’t understand that. And it would be such a shame for you to write romance off in general before you even get to experience it. You are... an extraordinary woman. You’re funny, and intelligent, and kind, and so capable of being loved. One day, someone is going to see beyond your pulchritude and prove that to you. I hope you let them try.” 
More tears blur the pattern on the rug, pooling in the rims of your eyes before spilling down your cheeks in fast, fat drops. Shakily you set the cup down, resting your elbows on your knees and hiding your face in your hands. You sniff once. Twice. Shake your head quickly, attempting to wipe the tears away without further smearing your makeup everywhere. 
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Spencer breathes, leaning forward but obviously unsure how to comfort you. “Please don’t cry, I wasn’t--I was trying to do the opposite of this.” 
“No, I’m sorry! You didn’t have to—you didn’t—I’m sorry. That was way too nice.” 
But you're not crying because he was nice.  
Someone will love you, but not me. That’s all you can hear. 
His voice is a mere whisper when he next speaks. 
“I meant every word.” 
You take a shuddering breath, allowing yourself a moment of reprieve behind the peaceful black of your eyelids. You can’t be looking at his face when you say what you’re about to say. 
“I had a crush on you for the longest time, you know.” 
Ringing silence. But it doesn’t last as long as you’d imagined. It’s not as world ending. 
“Had?” 
The little smile in his voice is like a fist around your heart. 
“Yeah. You know what changed?” 
“What’s that?” 
Absolutely nothing. 
“Every time I got super drunk and started hitting on you, you’d just drive me home. And I did it a lot. Like, for months. But you were such a gentleman. It drove me fucking crazy. So eventually I figured you just didn’t like me and I gave up.” 
Another stretch of silence. A breeze comes in from the open window, fluttering the curtains and cooling the tears on your face. His response is sad when it finally comes. 
“You thought I didn’t like you because I didn’t try to take advantage of you when you were drunk?” 
“Pretty much.” You smile ruefully, fingertips still pressed over your eyes. “God, listen to me. No wonder I get treated like garbage.” 
“Stop. Don’t talk about yourself like that. Did you hear anything I just said?” 
You sniff, looking to the ceiling. 
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. It was really sweet.” 
More silence. 
“But you don’t believe it.” 
A bitter laugh poisons the air around you. 
“I don’t know.  I’m kind of tired of waiting for someone to prove it to me. Just for once, I want someone to be interested in me beyond having sex in the back of their fucking... Range Rover, or whatever. Like, maybe all that stuff you said is true, but there’s no evidence to support it, and I know logically you’re probably right but I can’t help wondering if... if I’m the outlier. Maybe there just isn’t someone for me like that. Maybe I’m just gonna be the sex in the back of the Range Rover girl forever.” 
A noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob forces itself from your throat and you bury your face in your hands again, shaking your head. 
“Wow, I am so sorry,” you say a little too loudly, “I did not mean to be this honest tonight. Did you spike my coffee?” 
“You are not the outlier,” Spencer whispers.  
You sniff, lifting your head haltingly to look at him. 
“What?” 
His voice shakes slightly as he speaks. 
“You said you can’t help wondering if you’re the outlier, and maybe there just isn’t someone for you like that. That’s not true.” 
“Spencer, those are just words. You can’t possibly know that. Statistical probabilities don’t count.” 
“That’s... that’s not how I know.” 
Your heart drops as you study his face.  
No. 
Surely he’s not saying what you think he’s saying. 
Surely he wouldn’t do this to you after you’ve just told him everything you told him. You have been harboring feelings for him for years. Since you met. He can���t just spring this on you one night because you’re a little bummed out. If he felt the same, you would have found out a long time ago; he had ample opportunity to tell you. There was a period of months where you practically threw yourself all over him at every chance you got, and he did nothing. So this... this is just cruel—something you’ve never known Spencer Reid to be. 
You stand up, trembling slightly with rage and grief and humiliation. 
“Don’t do that. Don’t say things that you don’t mean just to make me feel better.” 
“What are you doing? Don’t--” 
You scoop up your purse, trying to get to the front door as fast as your gelatinous legs will allow. More tears are streaming down your face now and you don’t need him to see what he’s done to you—to see how much you care what he thinks. 
“It’s fine. Thanks for the coffee, I’ll see you around—” 
A hand around your wrist stops you in your tracks 
“Stop. Just... please give me a second to talk, okay?” 
With nothing left to give, you turn to him. 
“Don’t be mean, Spencer. Don’t act like you liked me too. That makes me feel... so much worse.” 
He takes a deep, shaky breath, as if steeling himself. Tawny eyes bore into your soul, and you realize that there is so much sheer nervous energy radiating off of him it’s infectious. Your heart begins to pound as he speaks. 
“I’m not doing that. I’m being an idiot, because you just told me that you don’t feel that way about me anymore but... but I do. And I have to tell you now because for six months I tortured myself wondering why you would flirt with me so much when you were hammered and then act like nothing happened the next day. There were so many times I almost told you how I felt but I didn’t and now I am because even if it ruins our friendship you need to know that somebody... that I wanted to be that person for you. I still do.” 
Your heart is like an unmoored zeppelin in your chest, bumping against your esophagus and threatening to either burst or jump out of your mouth. You take your chances, whispering so quietly it’s almost inaudible. 
“You... you like me?” 
“Yes,” Spencer sighs. “I have liked you for a very long time. And I’m sorry—” 
Whatever ridiculous thing he was going to apologize for, you don’t give him the chance. Instead you launch yourself at him, capturing his lips in a kiss that feels so much better than it’d ever been in your fantasies because it’s real. You hear his sharp intake of breath, but it only takes a second for him to respond, cradling your face in his hands like you’re the entire world. For a moment, time bends. Years of longing, of buried dreams crash into the present in a brilliant, dazzling explosion.
And then, as quickly as it started, he pulls away. The absence of his touch is like a vacuum, so much worse now that you know exactly how it feels to have his lips on yours, even if it was only for a few seconds. How the hell did you live like that for so long? How are you supposed to live like that ever again?
“You’re not thinking clearly,” he breathes, tilting his head back toward the ceiling like he’s barely holding onto his self control. “You just want someone to comfort you, I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re in an emotionally vulnerable state and confided in me which is manufacturing a false sense of attachment—” 
You grab his wrists, which still graze your jaw.
“Spencer, stop intellectualizing for thirty seconds. I promise you I am thinking clearly.” 
“You said you used to like me, past tense—” 
“Yeah, I did. Do you believe every single murderer who says he didn’t do it?” 
“No, but—” 
“Have you ever heard the phrase; a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts?” 
“Of course I have.” 
“Then what more could you possibly need to be convinced that I really like you? I already kissed you! What is stopping you?” 
Another deep breath is taken by him that seems to suck all the air out of the quiet room. Briefly, you wonder if you’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake. If you really do like him so much more than he could ever like you.  
Until he looks back down, eyes so golden-brown in the dim light, so kind and full of affectionate concern as he carefully assesses every square centimeter of your face, looking for... well, you’re not exactly sure what. It’s like he’s extracting every thought from your head, turning them over like sun-warmed stones until he finds what he’s looking for. He smooths his hands over your hair, brushing strands away from your teary face. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of holding your breath, he speaks. 
“I just want you to believe what I believe about you. But I don’t want you to have to rely on me or anyone else for your own self-worth.” 
“Well, don’t you think very highly of yourself,” you tease with a sniffle. He laughs—it's quiet, but his smile is so bright without even trying that suddenly you can’t remember why you’ve ever been sad. The small miracle of his laughter makes you feel so light, and you realize it has nothing to do with the way he makes you feel about yourself. It has everything to do with who he is. 
Once the giggles die down, you tentatively mirror his hold on your face. 
“Spencer, I don’t like you because you like me. I’ve liked you for an embarrassingly long time. I liked you enough that I gave myself a severe hangover at least once a week for three months just so I could have an excuse to flirt shamelessly with you.” 
A half-sad smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, and he gently swipes under your eyes. 
“You never had to do that. I would have welcomed your sober brazen flirting with open arms.” 
“Well... do you believe me?” you plead. His amber eyes shine. 
“I do.” 
“Will you kiss me?” 
“If that’s what you want.” 
You nod, rising on your toes to meet him halfway. 
When your lips meet again, it is sweet, and honest, and slow, and deep. Still, there is no desperation--no race to an imagined finish line, no clash of teeth and pawing hands. It is a kiss for the sake of it—as if it were the greatest intimacy. Not a precursor to sharing a bed, but something bigger than that in and of its own. Something just as worthy and important. For the first time, you think you’re beginning to understand romance. And while you wouldn’t mind if things did escalate, you also know that Spencer knows that’s not what matters right now. Because he actually understands you—he actually cares. He will wait until you understand that you mean so much more than that to him.
To that end, he pulls away, gently supplanting his absence with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 
“It would be polite of me to offer you a ride home, wouldn’t it?” he whispers, like it’s the last thing he wants to do. You bite the inside of your cheek, coming up with reasons not to go. One ridiculous one arises from the depths of your memory that you know he won’t be able to say no to. 
“Or... I could stay here, and we could watch one of those nerdy foreign films you’re always talking about?” 
A slow, perfect, high-watt smile blossoms on his face, and you know you’ve said exactly the right thing. 
“Nerdy? Oh, my darling girl... Soviet-era filmography is far from nerdy. небесная машина will completely defy what you thought you knew about the life of an average Russian villager in the 1950’s.” 
“Oh, good. Because I’ve really been meaning to change the way I think about the average 1950’s Russian villager,” you smile, already closing in to kiss him again. 
------------------------------------------ 
epilogue
Three hours later, you’re crying because the life of the average Russian villager in the 1950’s was so much worse than you’d previously thought. 
“It was good, right?” Spencer asks as the credits roll over a bleak snowy sepia landscape, leaning back to get a better look at you. You sit up from where you’d been leaning against him, furiously wiping your eyes. 
“It was terrible! Why didn’t you tell me that everyone except the kid dies in the end?!” 
“Because that’s the whole point of the movie!” he laughs, pulling you back into him. “I’m sorry. I probably should have explained how depressing this entire era of film was outside of the US.” 
“And also how long the movies were. I was not prepared for how many five minute long clips of empty fields there were going to be.” 
“You’re right,” he ammends, wrapping his arms around you in a way that gives you butterflies and makes you sleepy at the same time. “Next time we can watch whatever you want to watch.” 
Time passes like that—you in his arms, watching weak light slowly flood the room with half-lidded eyes and listening to the sounds of the city waking up from the street below, underscoring the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Thoughts float by like leaves on the ever-flowing current of your mind, and you’re happy to let them pass until one in particular catches your attention. 
“Spencer?” 
He hums, like he’d been deep in his own proverbial river of thought. 
“What does pulchritude mean?” 
It takes him a split second to remember the bit of conversation from earlier to which you are referring, but when he does, he chuckles, running his hand over your messy hair. 
“Don’t worry about it.” 
And so you let it float away. 
741 notes · View notes
killerlookz · 13 days
Note
hiii!!<3 if you’re thinking abt writing for joost, can u pls write some thing abt an established relationship fic based off the song birds of a feather by billie eilish if u can! love ur writing!
Hi anon! thank you sm for the request <33 this song is so sweeeet omg!!! also... technically an established relationship, but i do recap how reader and joost met :-)
Birds of a Feather | Joost Klein
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description: gn!reader reflects on all the special moments in your and Joost's relationship following an unexpected proposal.
content: so insanely cheesey! sorry! pure fluff! + lots of crying (mostly happy tears) literally the most tiny smallest sexual reference this fic contains rpf, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable
word count: 2426 (this was supposed to be under 1k words but i got soooo carried away)
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/I don't know what I'm crying for / I don't think I could love you more/
Shaky fingers fiddle with the cold metal looped around your ring finger. Your hand flexes outward, watching as the light from your window reflects onto the small stone. Something warm rolls down your cheek- a solitary teardrop, caressing the skin of your face. Your hand reaches up to wipe away the tear, but it's too late, you can feel more welling up near your waterline, any sudden movement now would send tears streaming down your face. You look up, your eyelids brink rapidly in an attempt to prevent the inevitable waterworks.
You hadn't seen an engagement coming- in all the years you'd been together, it still seemed like a milestone that had felt so far away. Until Yesterday.
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You and Joost had been nearly inseparable since just about the moment you had met- A nervous 20-year-old studying abroad in the Netherlands for your second to last semester of university. You sat on the stairs outside of the apartment building that stood as your temporary housing for the semester, on the brink of tears, your randomly assigned roommate had been a real piece of work. You were on your third argument that week alone, and, saying you were fed up was an understatement. You contemplated at that moment packing your things and just going back home.
"Gaat het?" (Are you ok?) A voice calls out, a goofy-looking blonde standing at the bottom of the stairs. He looks vaguely familiar, you think you may have seen him in the elevator of your apartment once or twice.
You furrow your eyebrows at him, "Ik spreek niet veel Nederlands," Using one of the few Dutch phrases you knew to tell him you don't speak Dutch. You shake your head, kind of hoping he would get lost, not wanting to be bothered.
"Ah," He nods, "Do you speak English?"
You stare at him for a moment, unsure if you should lie, after all he was a stranger but something is telling you to tell him the truth.
"Yeah," You sniffle, attempting to remove any emotion from your face.
"Are you okay?" He asks again, this time you understand.
"I'm fine," You weren't exactly searching for a deep conversation about your current struggles in someone you didn't know.
"People who are fine don't usually sit outside their apartment building crying."
You bite your lip, contemplating engaging the kind stranger in what was ailing you at the moment. You sigh, having a feeling he would probably keep pestering you if you continued to insist you were feeling in a way you actually weren't.
"It's just my roommate-"
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Two months after your first encounter with the blonde man at the bottom of the stairs, you were standing in front of a mirror, doing a final check of your outfit before going on your first date. You had learned his name was Joost, he was 21, and lived in an apartment two floors above you.
He was unimaginably kind, with a wit unparalleled by anyone you'd ever met before, and truthfully, he was very cute- so when he had initially asked you out, you couldn't get a "yes" out fast enough.
It seemed a little inconvenient, given that you only had one more month left in the Netherlands- but he knew this, and didn't necessarily seem like he had been looking for anything too serious. Besides, it would be nice for you to have a good connection with someone outside of the people you saw in your classes.
There's a knock at the door, and your feet are quick to start shuffling under you, you're practically running to go open it.
You stop for a moment as you get to the door, letting a deep breath fill your lungs to capacity, before letting it out, whipping the door open as you do so.
Joost is standing behind it, a smile plastered on his face, hands behind his back. He's dressed up, now that you thought about it, you never really saw him in anything other than a sweatshirt or t-shirt and some jeans. It was a pleasant change- a white button-up shirt and some dress pants even if both articles of clothing had been obviously wrinkled.
"Hey," He greets, removing his hands from where they rest behind him, revealing a bouquet of flowers in an outstretched arm, "These are for you- I didn't know what kind of flowers you liked so I sort of just guessed." He's unsure of himself, in an entirely endearing way. He was trying.
"For me?" You grin, "Aww, Joost!" You take the flowers from his hands, "Let me go find something to put these in."
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A month later you're sitting on Joost's couch after what you assumed would be your last date together. Your study abroad program was ending in three days, and you'd be returning back home.
There is an air of sadness that surrounds you, one that you hadn't expected to feel- you'd only known the man for three months, yet somehow it felt like you were leaving someone you had known your whole life.
Gentle fingers grab onto your jaw, Joost is turning your head to force you to look at him.
"You know," He starts, "I've really been enjoying our time together."
"Me too," You agree, a small smile peaking onto your face, you try not to give way to the sadness you were feeling.
"And," He says, "Y/n, I really like you, and I think if I don't ask you now, I'm never going to get the chance to ever again."
"What?" You perk up, your heart suddenly beating much faster, your breathing quickens, unsure of what he's going to say next.
"Well- I- what I'm trying to say is, do you want to go out with me? Like- officially- like dating." His voice is trembling, you'd never seen him so anxious before.
"Joost I-" You sigh, the reality of your situation crashing into you harder than it had before, "I'm leaving soon- we'll be hours away, when am I going to see y-"
You're cut off by Joost's lips crashing into yours, your thoughts suddenly disappearing the second your lips connect. You're entirely overwhelmed with emotion, every wire in your brain is fried, this move was an utter surprise, up until this point your relationship had been entirely chaste; the furthest you'd gone was sharing a hug at the end of your dates. Still, you kiss him back, your hand finding its way to his shoulder, tugging at it, begging him to come closer to you.
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It had been seven and a half months since you had last seen Joost, but the two of you had talked at length each and every day during that time. By now, you had finished your degree in University and were ready to really start your life.
You could remember the cheer of excitement on the other end of the phone when you told Joost after a month of job hunting you had secured a job in the Netherlands.
"Does that mean you're coming back here?"
"Yeah, the job starts at the end of next month ."
A month and a half didn't necessarily give you much time to plan things out to the extent you would have liked, but Joost was more than ready and willing to help you out.
He had posited moving into his apartment- but the suggestion while sweet- was quickly thrown out. It wouldn't have been an ideal commute to your new job.
So the two of you got on to looking elsewhere, he had been kind enough to take the time out of his days to go to apartment showings for you near where you'd be taking your job, keeping you on Facetime as he viewed the places.
Eventually, you had found one you absolutely fell in love with, in perfect distance from the job. The problem had been- it was quite a ways out of your budget. You were heartbroken, it had basically been your dream apartment.
Joost, always swift with solving problems, suggested that the two of you move into the apartment together, that way he could cover the rest of the rent that you couldn't afford. And while you were over the moon about his offer- you worried about what living together would do to your relationship, the two of you had known each other for less than a year- would living together be such a great idea?
But as you're standing in the doorway of your bedroom on the first night being in your new apartment, staring up at Joost, who's leaning against the door frame- you just know you made the right decision.
A careful hand glides across your cheek, resting at the back of your neck,
"Thank you for coming back," Joost muses, gently massaging the spot where his hand resides. You lean into his touch,
"There was no other option" There's an undeniable twinkle in your eyes, admiring the man who stood above you, tired and messy from a long day of moving.
"I've been waiting to tell you this in person," His grip on your neck suddenly becomes still, rigid, "And- even if you don't feel the same yet, I just wanted to say that I love you." He's talking fast, simpering after he finishes his short words before resuming the gentle massaging motion of his thumb against your neck.
The breath is almost entirely knocked out of you- he loves you.
The words just about run out of your mouth, "I love you too,"
"You do?" His pupils are blown wide, "You love me too?"
You nod fervently, never having meant a statement so immensely in your life.
Joost is leaning down now, his head tilted so his lips can perfectly interlock with yours. It is possibly the hungriest kiss the two of you had ever shared, with the obvious implication of love now behind it. If Joost hadn't snaked his free arm around your back, you probably would have fallen straight to the ground, your legs tingling with excitement.
He pulls away, looking into your mostly empty bedroom, a smirk appearing on his face,
"What do you say we christen that bed I spent all day putting together?"
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Five years later you're still living in that same apartment, the once-empty space now fully decorated with beautiful memories.
And now, the most crystal-clear memory sparkled in your brain, almost as bright as the ring itself. You'd been crying in intervals since then- since it happened since - You replayed it in your head.
"Do you remember when we first met?" Joost's fingers interlock with yours as the two of you walk down a familiar street- You were unsure of why Joost had insisted on taking you here, to the town where you both had lived when you met.
"How could I ever forget?" You grin, "Feels like just yesterday I was crying to some strange Dutch boy about my roommate issues."
"And how you told me, you never wanted to see the Netherlands again?" His words are slow as he looks deeply into your eyes, glimmers of adoration shining from every feature on his face.
"God, I was so dramatic- wasn't I?" You look away from him, scoffing as you look down at the pavement, thinking about your old self, looking back on it- it was a stupid decision to let one person ruin almost two months of your life, but back then it seemed like the biggest deal in the world. "Funny" You shrug, "The decision I made to talk to you on the day I was most certain I was just going to pack up and leave forever led me to making the Netherlands my home." You shake your head, "I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't met you on that day, but I don't think there's a reality that exists where we aren't together."
"Don't make me cry," He chuckles.
"I mean- I don't mean to be all sappy, but it's true- if soulmates are real, I can guarantee you're mine."
He's grinning now, you'd been so lost in your thoughts you barely noticed where the two of you had ended up, back at your old apartment, right in front of those very steps the two of you had met on.
He's pulling you up the stairs, and needless to say you're confused about this trip down memory lane.
"I think it's only appropriate that I do this here," His voice is low, and he's blinking more rapidly than usual. His hand slips from yours, and falls into his pocket- you watch anxiously for his next move. There's something in his hand now, and he's slowly bending down onto one knee.
The tears start nearly immediately, before he says a single word, you're cupping your mouth with your hand
"Y/n," He looks up at you, through the lenses of his glasses you can see there are tears in his eyes too, "Wil je met me trouwen?" (will you marry me)
"Joost," You choke out a sob- "Yes, Yes!" Your whole body is full of a tingling sensation, and your heart feels like it occupies more space in your chest than it did before, swelling with an overwhelming amount of love.
Joost grabs your trembling hand, caressing it tenderly with his thumb before slipping on the ring. You let him hold your hand for a moment more before you're pulling it away, desperate to see. You outstretch your hand in front of you, looking at the glimmering stone that sits on your finger. A visual confirmation of what had just happened.
He's barely stood all the way up before you're reaching for him, knocking into him with an embrace so energetically that it nearly knocks him over. As he catches his balance he wraps his arms right back around you, pulling you into him.
If you were to have gotten any closer, the atoms that make up each of your bodies may have actually fused together. Though you wish you could, despite how you fully braced Joost's body it doesn't feel like enough you want him closer to you.
Still, you're so warm in his tight embrace, letting out choked tears of joy against his chest.
A gentle kiss falls on the top of your head, followed by your favorite words to hear out of Joost's mouth, "Ik hou van jou." (I love you)
You shut your eyes, basking in the moment, you could absolutely get used to hearing those words every day for the rest of your life.
/I'll love you 'til the day that I die / 'Til the light leaves my eyes/
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mokulule · 6 months
Text
Take Out for Dummies - Part 3
Aka Danny has been hired to take out Red Hood, there may or may not have been a misunderstanding.
First | Masterpost
Jason had carefully checked their surrounding for cameras, but they ended up doing as Danny had suggested, sitting back to back each with their own collection of various meats and vegetables on sticks.
Danny groaned and leaned his weight back against Jason. “What is it about food on a stick that makes it so delicious?”
Jason chuckled, “I don’t know.”
It was simple fare, charred just the right amount from the grill and spicy in a way that warmed.
There was a moment of silence.
“You have a very nice voice, you know? Like I get the voice modulation is meant to be scary and all and it makes sense. Just… you have a nice voice.”Jason swallowed. He wasn’t sure why his throat felt so tight all of a sudden.
“Thanks.” He didn’t know what else to say.
They finished eating and Danny jumped up with renewed restless energy, still turned away from Jason.
“Tell me when you’re decent.”
Jason snorted as he pulled the helmet back on and it came online. “I’ll show you indecent.”
Danny squeaked. Jason turned around to find him hiding his face in his hands in embarrassment. At least Jason wasn’t the only one with the dirty thoughts.
“Alright-“ Jason peeled one of Danny’s hands away to hold it, “show the way. Are we breaking in?”
“Uh-“ Danny looked from Jason to the hand, his cheeks were dusted a very becoming pink - turnabout really was fair play. Finally he seemed to come back online as he shook his head.
“No, I have a key.”
Jason grabbed the trash bag in his other hand as Danny was still carting around his unicorn.
“Why do you have a key to the ice rink?”
“I do maintenance here sometimes, so I asked to borrow the rink for tonight.”
“Are there anyone in Gotham you don’t know at this point?”
“I’m sure there are plenty still,” Danny answered the rhetorical question as he opened the roof access door. Why that was the door he had a key to was another question entirely. Though they may of course just all use the same key.
They went down a stairwell and out into the cold hall with the frozen rink as centerpiece. Jason eyed Danny’s thin button down shirt, if he’d planned this why hadn’t he brought a jacket?
“There’s skates over there,” Danny pointed to the skate renting counter on the left side of the room. “will you grab me a pair of size seven skates, while I turn on some music and lights?”
Jason did as asked jumping the counter. There was a convenient trash can behind the counter where he could dump the bag.
When he returned to the main hall with skates in hand his eyes widened. When Danny had said turn on the lights he hadn’t expected them to be from those multicolored disco balls, nor for the music to put them back to the 70’s with an upbeat disco track.
“What do you think?” Danny yelled from where he ducked out from an operator room.
“It’s something alright,” Jason yelled back as he sat down on one of the benches and started pulling his boots off. He snorted as he realized something: if this was still an elaborate hit, Danny would be the type to love the double pun of taking out Red Hood by putting him on ice.
Jason didn’t actually think this was a hit. Hadn’t thought so in quite a while. He’d let his guard down.
Danny walked over with that small smile on his face that made Jason wonder if this was just his base state; just happy, enjoying himself, doing his little odd jobs, helping kids out for pebbles because he could, taking Red Hood out on a date.
Jason still didn’t know what to think about that. Like even if he genuinely thought whoever asked him to take out Red Hood meant on a date, there was still that logic break where Danny had decided, yeah sure sounds like a fun time, let’s just corner the former crime lord current vigilante on a rooftop in the middle of the night to ask his date preferences.
Danny was definitely not normal in any sense of the word, but Jason found that he couldn’t help but like that. Some good kind of crazy in this city for once.
“Never been to a skating disco before?” Danny asked when he within easy speaking range.
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Well not that there’s really any expectations here since it’s just the two of us, so we can do whatever.” Danny grinned, sat down next Jason and pulled his shoes off. He was in his skates and jumping to his feet in no time at all. He wobbled, and windmilled his arms so as not to fall and Jason had to grab him and steady him.
“Are you sure you have tried this before?”
“I’ll have you know I’m a great skater.” Danny sniffed, brushing Jason off, as he started awkwardly walking towards the rink in his skates.
“Just not at walking in them.”
Danny sent him a bewildered look. “Nobody is good at walking in skates.”
Jason rolled his eyes and tightened and tied off the last lace. He didn’t jump up carelessly like Danny, instead he rose and took careful steps. While it was indeed neither comfortable or normal to walk on the bladed edge of the skates, he did make it seem a great deal more natural than Danny had.
Danny stuck out his tongue at him for that and Jason couldn’t help but laugh.
“Yeah yeah, laugh it up. Join me on the ice and we’ll see who’s laughing.” With that he stepped onto the ice in a languid, confident glide, that immediately made it clear, that Danny did indeed know how to skate.
But Jason was no slouch either. He could skate even if it’s been a while and he never said no to a challenge. It took a moment for Jason to get used to the ice below his feet, but he quickly gained both speed and confidence.
Danny caught his eyes then with a wink, turned, and built up speed in a few quick glides and then he was jumping off the ice, spinning in the air and at what seemed like last moment he landed on just one leg, the other leg stretched out behind him as he leaned forward in something almost like a bow.
Okay so it turns out Danny couldn’t just skate he could skate. As in he could do not just spins but flips - Jason could do flips fine on the ground; he was not quite Dick enough to try it on ice. Of course Danny was also being a little shit about it.
There was something about that smile he was sporting that made Jason just want to reach out and grab him - and do what? He wasn’t sure. But there was an invite to try and catch him in the way he glided around Jason, responding to Jason’s movements by darting away like a fish only to come back, but never close enough to reach.
Jason smiled. Okay, he would bite.
When next Danny passed, he lunged. Danny shot forward with a delighted laugh. Jason wasn’t far behind him, but Danny’s turns were needle point sharp as he lead Jason on a merry chase across the ice. He was slippery as a fucking eel, the way he kept himself just shy of Jason’s fingertips every time he reached for him.
He was doing it on purpose too, Jason realized. He was letting Jason get close only to twist and turn and escape with a laugh and leave Jason to regain the balance he lost by lunging. Jason didn’t immediately pick up the chase this time.
“What’s the matter Hood? Can’t keep up?”Jason huffed. No, he couldn’t. That much was clear at this point. But that didn’t mean the game was over. It only meant Jason had to work smarter not harder. He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and started on a leisured circuit of the rink.
“Did you skate a lot as a kid?”
Danny came into Jason’s field of view, skating backwards effortlessly. There was a slight pout on his face at the interrupted game, but he answered Jason’s question, “Not really.”
“Huh, how did you learn to skate then?” Jason asked surprised.
That wiped away Danny’s pout and Jason felt a twinge of anticipation for what surely boded another fun story, but nothing could have prepared him for what actually came out of Danny’s mouth.
“I was taught by a yeti named Frostbite, he’s like my mentor in everything ice.”
“A yeti?” Jason spluttered.
Danny grinned in a way that showed he knew exactly how outrageous it sounded, but still kept his voice perfectly even when he said, “yes, it’s their national sport.”
Jason laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Uh huh, and where did you meet this yeti?”
“A place called the Far Frozen, not many people have heard of it. They tend to be rather reclusive.”
Danny didn’t falter one moment in his explanation. He either had a selection of stories he told or he was extremely good at improvising. He was also suddenly within reach, guard down as he thought Red Hood had given up on the game.
Jason lunged. Danny’s eyes widened comically as he realized his mistake and tried to backpedal, but it was too late. Jason had him wrapped in his arms. They both went down overbalanced from Danny’s struggle. Jason twisted them so he took the brunt of the fall. Danny didn’t deserve to be caught beneath 225 pounds of vigilante even if he’d been asking for it.
They laid there on the ice catching their breaths.
“Bastard, you caught me.” Danny finally spoke giggling like he couldn’t believe it.
“Yeah, you shouldn’t have-“ Jason stopped, finally noticing how cold Danny was. “You’re freezing!”
“No really it’s fine-“ Danny protested as Jason pulled him back up, but Jason wouldn’t have it.
“Who forgets to wear a jacket when going skating,” Jason grumbled pulling his jacket off and wrapping it around Danny shoulders. It looked comically large hanging off Danny’s small frame, but Jason only gave himself a small moment to appreciate it before drawing Danny close again.
It took a moment but then Danny relaxed into the hold.
“How’s this? Better?” Jason asked after a while.
Danny looked up his eyes wide and blue and maybe a little overwhelmed. “Y-yeah.”
Jason frowned looking around to locate the bench where their shoes were. “We should probably get out of this cold.”
“No,” Danny said immediately pressing close, then flinched, before saying quietly, “can we just stay like this for a bit?”
Jason blinked in confusion. It didn’t make sense to stay in the cold, but he found himself agreeing quietly.
The music at this point had turned to quieter songs. Jason was starting to feel the cold himself by staying still, and he started to sway to the music, moving just a little across the ice. Danny looked up. He wiggled around and it took only a moment for him to actually find the sleeves and push his arms through. Jason let go to let him and soon found his hands captured in still cold but no longer freezing hands.
“Dance with me?” Danny asked.
Jason couldn’t say no to that, but “I’ve never danced on ice before.”
Danny grinned and glided back in close, getting them positioned for a waltz. “It doesn’t have to be right, but you lead and I’ll follow and make sure we don’t fall on our asses.”
Jason scoffed as he lead them into a glide that had Danny moving along mostly backwards on the ice.
“You don’t trust me to follow.”
“No,” Danny grinned, “But I do trust you to catch me.”
Jason rolled his eyes fondly behind the helmet. Then dipped Danny suddenly to make him prove it. There wasn’t a hint of struggle, he stayed relaxed in his hold as if they’d danced together like this a million times. Jason didn’t know what to do with that, and pulled him back up.
Jason didn’t know how long they danced. Danny had started talking quietly after a while admitting he hadn’t gone on a date since he went to high school, and got Jason to admit he liked reading. but he did know his feet were starting to hurt. Still he was reluctant for it to be over.
It was only when Danny failed in hiding a yawn they left the rink.
-
Jason rolled the bike to a smooth stop putting one foot down to keep balance. He let go of the handlebars and straightened up to allow Danny to get off.
However instead of getting off Danny took off the helmet, hung it on a handlebar and twisted around bringing his legs up until he faced Jason and could wrap them lightly around Jason’s waist. Jason’s mind went blank at the way it brought them closer, the only thing keeping the position somewhat decent for the public was the unicorn now squished between them. If Jason now wished he’d never won the thing, that was a secret he was taking to his second grave.
“So,” Danny said conversationally, wrapping his arms loosely around Jason’s neck, leaning his forearms on his shoulders almost thoughtfully, “I had fun.” He smiled. “I hope you also had fun, that was the whole purpose after all.”
He paused - maybe waiting for a response, but Jason didn’t even know what to say. He certainly wasn’t going to admit he had fun. That was- Red Hood wouldn’t do that. He’d already behaved way too much like himself tonight.
There was a momentary frown on Danny’s face before it smoothed out replaced by a soft smile, that Jason had no idea what to do with. “This is the point where a successful date is usually rewarded with a kiss - you can say no?”
Jason stiffened.
Surely he wasn’t going to?!
Danny leaned in, his smile turned wicked for a moment as his hands splayed out on either side of the helmet. Jason needed to stop him, but instead his traitorous hands landed on Danny’s waist.
He needed to push him away; he didn’t.
Danny’s hands tightened on the helmet, pulling-
Except he didn’t pull the helmet off, he just pulled Jason closer and tilted his head backwards and then pressed his lips to the helmet, right were his mouth would have been. It was chaste, but not just a quick peck. No, it was a slow and languid press in a way that made Jason all too aware that there was little more than an inch between their lips, but it might as well have been miles for the barrier between them. Slow in a way that made Jason’s breath catch in his throat and his treacherous brain wish Danny had removed the fucking helmet.
Danny drew back, his blue eyes practically sparkling in mischief and he lightly bonked his forehead against the helmet before twisting around again and jumping off, Jason letting him reluctantly.
“See you around, Hood.” Danny waved once before he started walking down the road, unicorn plushie under one arm, utterly unafraid to walk the most crime ridden streets of Gotham in the early hours of the morning. Presumably he was going home to his mystery residence.
Jason should follow him. It was the perfect time to find out more about the mystery that was Odd-Job Danny. It was why he’d agreed to the date in the first place. Right?
Instead his brain was going around in circles, wondering if he had pulled up his helmet when Danny first mentioned the kiss, not pulled it off of course, just up to his nose or so, would Danny have gone through with it? Would he have actually kissed him? Or did he only do it because he knew the helmet was there in between them?
Did Jason want him to kiss him?
Fuck. He did.
Danny was gone now, nowhere to be seen. Whatever chance he’d had of figuring out more was gone. And yet that seemed the least of Jason’s problems.
-
So that's the end of the date, though of course not the end of the story. Consider commenting or writing something in the tags if you liked it, things irl are gonna be very busy for the next year so I could use all the motivation for writing I can scrape together. You can subscribe at the masterpost for future updates. Next
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speakergame · 3 months
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Progress Update - 3/4/24
Hello and happy March!
It’s been a while, hasn’t it? 😅 Well, I finally have some good news for you this time: I have some actual news!
I'm happy to be able to announce at last that an update is on its way! I’ve still got some assets to make and code cleanup and testing to finish, but I should finally have something to show you soon.
I’ll put a cut at the end of this and go into more detail about the what and why of what I’ve been working on during this long and unintended hiatus, but the tl;dr is that I hope to have an update out by the end of the month, and that said update will break any saves made in Chapter 4. Unfortunate, but unavoidable, since Chapter 4 had to be recoded from the beginning 😞
I just want to thank all of you once again for sticking with me through my extended silence! Especially to my patrons who’ve put up with me putting everything on pause month after month while I dealt with my real life shit, and to everyone who’s sent me kind and supportive messages to let me know Speaker hasn’t been forgotten. It really means a lot to me.
Okay, enough of that sappy shit! I’m gonna get back to work finishing this up 😁 I’ll put out another update later this month once I have a more definite release date.
Thank you all for reading! I hope you’re having a fantastic 2024 so far, and that the rest of the week treats you kindly. See y’all soon! 💙💙💙
(For those who want a more detailed breakdown on what’s been happening and what to expect, hit the readmore)
I won’t go into the personal life stuff I’ve been dealing with this past year that has slowed down my work, but as far as the actual game goes: 
To put it simply, I just wasn’t happy with it. Some of it could be because of how many times I had to reread the same section while I was coding the scenes that would’ve taken place after the last update, but no matter how much I edited or rearranged it, I didn’t like how that scene turned out. There was something… formulaic that had been happening with the way I always laid out scenes, and a bit of stagnation in the story, character, and relationship development that bothered me.
So I rewrote it. And when I still didn’t like it, I rewrote it again. And I still didn’t like it. I thought about scrapping the whole thing on more than one occasion as I struggled to get out of the corner I’d written myself into.
Inspiration finally struck at the beginning of this year, thanks in part to another interactive novel I follow, and I really like the direction I’ve taken it now. 
Instead of the RO split scenes happening where the last one left off, Speaker, Seer, and Gavin are gonna have a chat about Things™ to move the next story arc forward. Then Speaker will get some downtime, by themself at first and then in an extended scene split with the RO of their choosing. 
All the Big Plot Things that were going to happen in Chapter 4 will be moved to Chapter 5 instead, and 4 will be a bit more of a filler episode. A deep breath before the plunge, as it were.
This split won’t just be a quick conversation/reaction from the RO, but a full on different direction for the rest of the chapter based on who you choose. Most of them will involve leaving the house; all of them will involve actual one-on-one time (or one-on-two time, as the case may be) away from the others. And though romance isn’t required, all of them will have the potential to really move the romance forward if you so choose. One or two might even have a lock-in choice (maybe. I’m not 100 percent on that, so don’t hold me to it) 
These scenes won’t be in the next update, because they’re all very complex, but the update will definitely have the Seer chat and at least some of the by-yourself stuff. The update after will have the rest of the alone time stuff (including the clothes/body CC you’ve all been waiting for), and then the one after will start the RO scenes. I think.
I may actually split the RO scenes into separate updates, and let my darlings over at Patreon vote for the order they’re released. That way I can focus on one at a time instead of trying to split my attention six ways at once.
Okay, that’s enough rambling for me today. Time to get back to work! Still got a lot to get done before this is ready, but it’s so close now.
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allbark-no-bite · 6 months
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cowboy up.
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jake seresin x reader (wc: 2.6k)
summary: Jake’s a tease. and a cowboy. it makes your friends sick
warnings: really none i think, just talk of and allusions to sex
authors note: very loosely based off of “Dirty Looks” by Lainey Wilson. it got me into the mood to write a little something. briefly mentioned that reader is Ice’s daughter
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"Well hello, mi cowboy."
It's the deliciously sensual roll of the endearment off of your tongue that has Jake hooking two fingers through the loop of your jeans and tugging you firmly into his side as he approaches the bar. It starts up an engine-like rumble in his chest that travels up his throat and catches, vibrating while he bows down to kiss you. Just the sight of your sweet smile has the weariness of the day melting off of him.
El cowboy, you mother had appraised with great enthuse the first time you had brought Jake home, and he greeted her with his smooth as honey southern drawl. Being Latino and having grown up just along the border in El Paso, her English was still licked with Spanish flare and it made everything she said sound rivetingly amorous. Even after three years of dating, she still widely referred to him as the cowboy—your cowboy.
"Hey, darlin'. Sorry I wasn't here sooner. There were some mechanical issues with my plane and I couldn't get away," he apologizes, hence the grease stains on his hands. He had probably only taken the time to change into a fresh set of clothes before leaving base and driving straight to the Hard Deck.
You only hum, tipping your head up to steal a second kiss before he straightens. "Glad you're here now."
Jake has to stop himself from chasing your lips for a third. Penny's warned him about getting too frisky at the bar. It's not his fault when you taste like strawberry margaritas and are wearing those jeans that you know drive him crazy.
But when he looks over his shoulder, Penny's sliding him an ice cold beer from across the bar. "This one's on the house, Seresin." The gleam shining in her eyes tells him that she's caught the two of you but is going to let it slide this time.
When he opens his mouth to argue, already digging his wallet out of his pocket, she shakes her head. "Looks like you had a long day. Enjoy the beer."
"Really, Pen, I—"
Penny's back is already turned as she heads to the other side of the bar to serving an incoming crowd of aviators.
Jake glances down to his well worn boots while his hand goes to his jaw to feel at the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow. Does he really look that worn out? He has to resist the urge to smell himself.
He looks back to you, suddenly feeling ashamed of himself for showing up like this. Here he is, covered in sweat and engine grease, while his own girlfriend is standing next to him, looking way out of his league. Even the Dagger Squad looks fresh and put together. It would have been hard to guess that they had all been out sweating on the tarmac together earlier in the day.
"I probably should have cleaned up," he admits, running a hand over the cropped hair at the back of his neck. He's wondering if he can at least escape to the bathroom for a minute to stick his head under the sink.
What Jake doesn't know is that you might actually kill him if he does that. There's something about the combination of his off-duty khakis and dusty boots that is making your heart flutter. The tousle of his blonde hair after a long day and ruddy flush of his already tan cheeks give off the impression that he's more than just a pretty face. He looks hard working and very, very capable.
"Jake?"
"Hmm?" he hums, having been eyeing the bathrooms, contemplating even just splashing some water on his face.
Your heart squeezes painfully when his dazzling green eyes turn back to land on yours, eyebrows raised in question, fully attuned to whatever it is that you may need. "What baby—"
He stops mid sentence when you pull him down by the back of his neck to kiss him. This time it's a much less chaste kiss than the one you greeted him with, and he gets to really taste the strawberry margarita on your lips—a bit sweet, a little salty. The taste makes his mouth tingle and he's not sure if it's you or the tequila that's making him feel buzzed.
Jake's hand immediately slips around your waist, his large hand on your back, pressing you into him. A groan slips out of him when his fingers brush the warm skin just above the rise of your jeans.
The fact that you had purposefully chosen not to wear your khakis like himself and the rest of the crew makes Jake that much more hot and bothered. It's not that he dislikes your usual naval attire, because he doesn't. He loves how it fits you, who you become when you wear it, your signature "Frostbite" embroidered on the front—the name he gave you. It's the fact he's come in, dead on his feet from working all day, and his diamond of a girlfriend is wearing an outfit she put on just for him.
Really, Jake thinks his chest might just implode.
His free hand had been holding his beer out to the side, momentarily forgotten once you'd started kissing him. Blindly, he sets it down behind him, the glass clinking against the bar top so that he can get both of his hands on you without spilling. He prefers you, the taste of your skin anyhow.
"So damn sweet," he groans into the underside of your jaw, eyes shut as he fights the urge to say fuck it and take you home now. "Could just eat you."
You laugh, fingers gripping his blonde hair. "Is that a promise, cowboy?" Jake's teeth scrape your pulse point and your fingers tighten. His body is hot pressed flushed against you, moving as you move so that the contact never breaks.
"Baby, I'd devour you," he promises huskily into your ear. Mav has been working them to the bone for the past few weeks, and Jake has hardly had the energy to climb the front steps when he gets home, much less make it to the bedroom. To say you've both been left wanting is an understatement.
His lips press wetly to your neck. "You look good, Frosty Girl. You know how much I love those jeans..."
You hum, eyes fluttering closed as Jake sends you to that place. That place where only you and Jake exist, where the worries of the day melt away, and it smells like his cinnamon oak body wash and the hint of beer on his breath. It doesn't matter than he smells slightly of sweat and jet fuel because that's just him. That's what makes him Jake.
"Mmm, you do?" Of course he does. Jake Seresin drinks the air you breathe and worships the ground you walk on. "I think you'll like what I have on under them more."
If Jake had been twenty-one again, he'd have a raging hard on in his jeans right now. After two years of dating you, he's developed a bit of self control since then. He spent a lot of lunch breaks jacking off in the bathroom the first few months. All you had to do was rub up against him climbing out the back seat of the cockpit and he was sneaking off to take care of himself before any of the Dagger squad could see the missile sized hard on in his pants.
Jake smiles, his pearly white grin pressed into your neck. His jade green eyes peer up at you with a gleam of anticipation.
"Black?" he guesses, his nimble fingertips already dipping just past your waistband to brush across the lace he knows he's going to find.
"Uhh mm," you deny, enjoying the thrill of teasing him with your secret.
His warm breath fans across your neck. "Red?"
The corners of your mouth quirk up into a look that Jake can only describe as devilish. "I figured you deserved a treat. I know you've been—" Before you can finish, Jake is kissing you. His pink lips are cool and a bit wet from the beer he's been nursing, but his tongue is hot and slick and wet and it just feels so good.
"Jesus. Get a room, you two."
Despite the roar of blood in his ears, the buzzing in his veins, Jake recognizes the sound of Bradley's voice just a table away.
Begrudgingly pulling away from the kiss, Jake doesn't release you just yet, just moves his head to look over your shoulder. He had hardly even acknowledged the Dagger Squad when he walked in, too focused on you. And maybe that's on him.
"Sorry, Bradshaw. Didn't see you there." You can tell Jake's smirking over your shoulder, hand not so slyly cupping the curve of your ass as he reaches for his beer with the other, playing at indifference. He takes a slow swig of it, unbothered by the fact that your friends -you coworkers- are all watching. "I was busy saying hello to my unbelievably sexy girlfriend."
Without breaking eye contact with Bradley, Jake plants a filthy wet kiss to the pulse point of your neck. It's enough to make the other aviator's mustache twitch and his throat constrict with a impulsive swallow. Regardless of how they acted— always at each other’s throats— there was no longer any bad blood between the two pilots. That feud had been settled on the Uranium mission last year and was replaced by new found respect, but that didn’t mean that they didn’t seize every opportunity to ruffle the other’s feathers.
"This is a public space," Natasha reminds him, as if he were unaware of the extremely crowded bar.
Jake smirks. "Oh believe me, I'm holding back for Floyd's sake. Wouldn't want to ruin his innocence."
The weapon system officer emits a noise of protest from across the table, his cheeks flashing an embarrassed hue of red. "I've already told you, I'm not a virgin!"
You giggle into Jake's shoulder at his complait, content to bask in the temporary stronghold of your boyfriend's embrace. It's nice to get moments with him like this, away from the stress of work and without the pressure of success weighing on your shoulders.
Of course your friends knew about yours and Jake's relationship, had known since the very first date, but in nearly three years of dating, they had come to the realization that they knew very little about your relationship. Work was strictly professional for the two of you and even at the bar, the most intimate thing they'd ever seen occur was Jake greeting you with a quick kiss.
"Damn, Bagman, you walking in here, kiss Frost senseless, and now she's giggling? You're telling me that's all it takes to bring her from she-devil to—giggling?" Coyote asks from behind his pool cue, sauntering over to join the group.
Jake, his green eyes gleaming, slips his warm palm under your shirt to smooth over the exposed curve of your hip. "I can make her do a lot more than giggle, Machado."
You groan, burying your embarrassingly flushed face further into Jake's neck. Although your boyfriend may be able to play the nonchalance card, you can only take so much of their teasing.
You push away from Jake before he can start full on groping you in front of your friends. If there's one thing about Jake, he has no shame when it comes to showing you off.
"I don't giggle, Javy," you stress, choosing to ignore Jake's comment.
Fanboy, who is never far behind the other pilot, saunters over and slings an arm around his friend's shoulders. "Giggle? I've never even seen you crack a smile."
Before you can respond, Jake is sliding an impossibly large palm around to cup the back of your neck, fingers digging in to the tense muscle that he knows is there. Relax, is what that means. "Careful, she does bite." He's grinning, a smug, but knowing smirk on his face. 
"Fuck, man. I knew you were into that kinky shit," Coyote quips, and it evokes a few laughs from the Dagger squad, save for Natasha, who pretends to roll her eyes. 
Jake grins. "Damn straight."
"Easy, cowboy," you warn, your eyes narrowing at him in playful warning.
You're not necessarily embarrassed by Jake's insinuation of your sex life, the two of you were well established in your relationship and you trusted your friends too much to be embarrassed by that kind of thing. It's just that being Admiral Kazanky's daughter meant that too many people assumed you had only made it this far because of your old man or that you were sleeping through the ranks, which was far from the truth. 
You deserved to be here. And Jake knows this, which is why his thumb is still massaging at the pressure point at the base of your skull, just behind your ear. Everything about him, from the reassuring smile he directs at you to his relaxed body language is him letting you know that it's all in good fun, and no one here thinks that you don’t belong here in the slightest. 
Bradley's shaking his head as he lounges against the pool table. "I don't know what I'm going to have to tell my therapist about first, the fact that Frost calls you 'cowboy' or the fact you probably get off on that shit.”
Jake grins, toothpick bobbing in his mouth as his impish smile widens. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Bradshaw?”
The truth is, he does. Behind the cool and collected facade that he’s putting up, bantering back and forth with your friends while he sips his beer, he’s just the right amount of hot and bothered that he wouldn’t mind calling it a night just to go home and have his way with you. He hasn’t forgotten about the little red number you’re wearing.
Having lost the attention of the rest of the squad to the pool table during his and Rooster’s banter, Jake shifts his focus to you. Large hand coming to rest on your back, he dips down to murmur in your ear. “Think I’m about ready to turn in, kid. What do you say we get out of here?”
Your pretty face turns towards him, and you don’t miss the gleam in his green eyes. Smiling privately to yourself, you eyes reflect his knowingly. “Rooster will never let you live it down. You only just got here.” However, that doesn’t mean you can’t be coerced.
Jake hums, his lips pressing to your temple in a kiss that’s meant to hide the fact that he’s whispering— plotting— in your ear. “I’ll buy ‘em around on the way out. They won’t even notice we’re gone,” he reasons.
You smile, turning back to the game of pool as Jake leans over you before you give him. “Go on,” you finally encourage. “I’ll follow you out.”
Grinning and all too pleased with himself, Jake slips off behind you, but not before giving an affectionate pat to your ass. You have to refrain from rolling your eyes at him.
You wait a while before discreetly making your escape form the pool table, grabbing your things as you go. Jake’s waiting for you at the door, all too pleased to see you, as though he hadn’t just five minutes before. “Made it?”
“Yeah, I don’t think they—”
“Well damn, goodbye to you guys too!” Rooster calls from across the bar. Obviously having noticed your departure, the Dagger Squad is all standing around the pool table, shaking their heads in varying levels of amused disapproval.
Payback crosses his arms. “You guys make me sick.”
Opening the door for you, Jake turns and tips his imaginary cowboy hat at them with an grin. “Sorry man. If you all will excuse me, I’ve got some riding to do.”
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guttednights · 4 months
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𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔦𝔫 𝔬𝔫𝔢
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Warnings: threesome, mdni, overall smut with johnny and simon (and fluff)
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You had no idea when you started dating Simon that Johnny was an extra bonus. You and Simon first met when you moved to the 141 as a recruit. At first, Simon avoided you at all costs, why? because he thought you were pretty and he's a bit intimidated by you. but after some time (and Johnny pushing and threatening him) he finally spoke to you. it may have not been anything major just a simple acknowledgment of you, then a "hi" and then ACTUAL conversations with you. Eventually, he asked to get a coffee and that's it. you guys have been together for a year now. You always knew about Johnny and Simon being complete besties, I mean who couldn't honestly. they were always giggling like school girls around the base, Johnnys usually fucking around and Simon yelling at him to stop like he's his dad or something. It came as a bit of a surprise when Simon asked to come over while you guys were at home, and Johnny showed up with him. you opened the door to 2 big men with big smiles on their faces. You weren't mad of course, you welcomed them in. "figured you wouldn't mind if soap joined us ya?" and you agreed, you don't mind, now you just have to cook an extra stake. And that's kind of where it started. after a few months of that Simon moved in, meaning he left Johnny and his apartment. johnny was happy for you guys but sad because he felt lonely :(. One day Simon asked if Johnny could move in. Since you have 2 extra bedrooms you figured why not. And sure enough, a month later Johnny was living in your house (not rent-free because living is expensive). You had NO idea what Johnny moving in had in store for you. Honestly, at first, it started off with tame things, you Johnny, and Simon cuddling in bed watching movies.
Now you're being trusted from behind by Simon's fat cock, while Johnny slowly thrusts in your mouth admiring your teary eyes, and swollen lips. Simon's fingers are practically digging into your side knowing you're gonna be bruised tomorrow while Johnny is being soft and gentle. Simons has always been that way tho. As your sweet moans fill the air in your bedroom, Simon pulls out flipping you around like you weigh nothing. "be gentle with my sweet girl Johnny", Simon says to Johnny as he lines his girth up with your hole. now this whole time Johnny has been the most gentle man ever, but the second that first thrust happens it's over for you. He's not going fast, just deep every single thrust his whole length is devoured by you. He watches that white ring of cream form at the bottom of his length as he thrusts deep and slow. and for Simon? his cocks in your mouth as he deep throating you, gently playing with your sensitive clit while Johnny tears you apart :(. Simons has always been aggressive during sex and you love it. not long after Johnnys' deep thrusts continue into your swollen cunt you're coming on him, and Johnny is not stopping for anything, "gonna come for me ye? mhh ya that's a good girl", and while you're busy being fucked in your throat and cunt, simons thrusts in your mouth become faster and deeper, his grunting and breathing increase "that's my sweet girl" "taking me in your throat like this". soon enough his warm come is making its way down your throat as your teary eyes stare up at him, he pulls out as his cock softens and kisses you looking at you. "that's my sweet girl". johnnys thrust getting faster and deeper if possible, "Simon?" "Ya?" "Do you come insid- inside?" "Ya, can come inside Johnny." Quickly johnnys hand goes from holding your leg to his chest to your clit rubbing fastly as hes close to coming. his fast thrusts soon stop as he fills you up with his come. his moans are soft as he pulls out and crashes down on the empty space next to you.
your quickly pulled over to Simon's chest as he kisses your head. "my sweet princess" he whispers. "let's get ye cleaned up ya?' Johnny says kissing your shoulder standing up and starting the shower. While Simon is helping you shower (cause you can't walk) and Johnny getting dressed, Simon can't help but say something. "Johhny you were not gentle with my sweet girl." "msorry LT" Johnny knows he's only just kidding as he walks out of the bathroom. For you on the other hand? Tired. of course Simon gives you the best aftercare as Johnny gets you guys food.
now of course this is a often occurrence, either you Simon, and Johnny, or just Johnny, or just Simon. but you can't complain, your two favorite boys giving you the best sex of your life, why would you complain?
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side notes: I've never written smut before so I hope this is okay, I think it's good enough to post but I will try harder to make it seem more coherent next time. Also juggling the idea of Simon and johnny, I think Simon would definitely come inside you first but I'm too lazy to rewrite :3.
LMK what else you guys would like to read i need ideas fs.
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ajortga · 4 months
Text
in what way?
pairing: tara carpenter x fem reader
summary: your ex girlfriend begins to regret leaving you when all she wanted to do was protect you. maybe she broke you more than she thought.
word count: 900+
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based off request! i came across a reblog that said that i needed to make more tara fluff.. maybe next story?..
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hello my love, I would like to know if you could do a one shot based on the song shut up my moms calling by hotel ugly, Tara x fem reader pls🙏
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I just wanna rewind, I haven’t seen you in a long time
Ever since the ghostface incidents that fortunately, Tara has survived, she’s been avoiding you.
I mean, she knew you would never be ghostface, but whenever she was near you now she just felt like she shouldn’t. 
She shouldn’t be spending time with you when she was always a pain in the ass over ghostface. She still had that trauma that she knew a band-aid wouldn’t fix, her inner and outer scars may never heal. 
But she also knew she shouldn’t be avoiding you when you took a stab in your arm for her, you protected her, but you weren’t one of the core 4. What if you ended up like Anika? What if she failed to catch you when you fell? She was scared because she knew that if you ever died or even got a scratch on you, she wouldn’t be able to see the end of it. Nightmares haunted her every time she closed her eyes. It’s like she can’t even have a good option. Well except when she was hurled up to your neck as you snored softly on her chest.
Letting you go meant no cuddles and kisses at night, where she would actually be able to sleep peacefully without having any nightmares. There would be no more Friday nights with you. She wouldn’t be able to see you glance at her with these loving eyes you always did. She couldn’t bear seeing you look at her like you did at Chad or Mindy or Sam. You looked at her like she was Tara. Your Tara, your eyes go soft when you see her. She didn’t want to lose that. She loves you more than a heart's love. But if she keeps you with her, you’re at risk of being killed. You’re at risk of losing your life and Tara could never forgive herself. But you’ll be with her. You’ll be able to make her heart feel whole. What was more important? Keeping herself loved, or keeping you safe? Keeping your heart whole?.. Or breaking it?
“Gosh,” she groaned, she didn’t know. But she did know she was going to have to begin to stop seeing you so often.
A week in and she could feel it.
That isn’t you, so baby bring it in closely.
She felt your eyes trace her whenever she was in the room. She felt those soft eyes slowly grow dark, she knew you felt sad. Like you were waiting for her, silently knowing she might never come back to you. Tara doesn’t notice how you would blink your tears away that you had to cover your face and cry against your sleeves. She doesn’t know how if she only got a few hours of sleep because she slept without you, that you got none.
You got me feeling so lonely. 
Even with the hurt that has held in your heart, you didn’t want to go back to her because she broke up with you, it wasn’t the other way around. It would never be the other way around. You felt alone.
You’ve been acting like you hardly know me.
You didn’t know why, you still didn’t know why she began to fade from your life, but you didn’t want to make her life so hard. Maybe she dropped you because that’s what you did in the first place, make her days a mess. When really it’s the other way around, you made it whole. Tara felt the way your figure turned away from her whenever she was near, a simple switch of your heel when she was there and walked away as quickly as you could. You talked to everyone but her. 
You began to finally find back the solace that music brought. You used to wear them when Tara didn’t know you, you wore them over your neck all the time. But when you started dating her, music felt like it wasn’t necessary anymore. Why would you need it to listen to music when you could hear your girlfriend's sweet laughter and voice? It was better than a sweet melody. She brought you harmony.
You both missed each other. Your room was filled with her, polaroids in every picture hung up above your bed, three boxes filled with books you once read together, a cooking book you used to bake on free Sundays, jewelry. You never took it down, because you still loved her. You can’t stop loving someone. You just find someone else to love more. 
Tara regrets it, she thought it would be so easy, she thought it would’ve been better to know that you were going to be okay. But ghostface wasn’t here right now. She felt so numb. Ghostface was gone and it would take time before the next legacy would be sparked to life once again.
But she ignored you to protect you. 
And the thing was, she knew that she broke you more than she protected you. She wanted to take it back. Tara wished she could feel your warm body laying in the same sheets. Knowing that you were hurting more than she was. 
You and Tara made eye contact, you two looked at each other for a long moment, before brushing past each other like strangers in another life, tears falling gently down each other's faces. 
She could’ve taken you back, but what was there to fix if the heart was broken beyond repair?
Your heart raced whenever you saw her, but she felt it begin to slow, losing your hope.
She wanted you to heal, she didn't want to come back just to be told that you didn't want to see her face.
She didn't know.
Maybe she shouldn't come back.
Maybe she shouldn't come back home in your arms at all.
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luvverslair · 2 months
Note
Hi!
So, tumblr did a thing! I saw your post that said your requests are open, and the very next post on my dash was a list of prompts and one really stood out to me!
"Instead of fake dating, everyone is convinced that you aren’t actually dating."
May I request that with Soap/Ghost/Gaz (tho let's be real, it's perfectly believable that Gaz can pull anyone!)
Thank you! 😊
hi !! thank you for your request, i love this idea so much and i hope you enjoy!!
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Ghost: When you and Ghost first started dating, you kept it to yourselves wanting to savor your relationship just for the two of you. However after a while, Ghost decided to tell his teammates about you, He started by talking about you to them saying things like “Yeah the missus dragged me out to this restaurant the other day.” and things like that, his fellow teammates would look at him like he was crazy, but would still indulge his conversation thinking he might just be lonely or trying to prove he can have a relationship. Ghost then started sharing pictures of you, whether it be pictures he took of you on dates or just funny ones around the house. This made the team even more confused about the whole situation as they like to call it, they wondered how he found so many pictures of someone online and why was he showing them off like you were actually with him, had he finally gone mad? One day Soap finally spoke up when he was again showing off pictures you had sent him while he was deployed, “L.T, we all know you’re not dating them. Who is that?” before Ghost had time to respond Gaz chimed in saying “Yeah Ghost, you started to freak us out.”Ghost let out a low chuckle before saying “I promise you they are actually with me, I’ll be the first to admit it’s shocking they out of all people chose me but they did.” Soap and Gaz brushed him off still not believing a word he said, that was until one day you came to the base because Ghost had left something he needed at your shared home. You walked into the room seeing Soap and Gaz shooting them a smile before saying “Hi, Have you guys seen Simon anywhere? Or I guess Ghost to you sorry.” They both stood there eyes wide and mouths agape, they pointed you in the direction of Ghost to which you thanked them and went to go find him, from that day forward they never said anything when Ghost would share things about you.
Soap: From the moment you both started dating, Soap immediately started telling everyone he knew about you, he loved showing you off. The only problem was you were gorgeous and seemed like a well-rounded person which didn’t seem like anyone Soap could pull, So when he started telling his teammates about you, they congratulated him and didn’t mind having conversations about you, and then he started showing pictures of you. That’s when the suspension started, nobody would ever believe someone like you would be with someone like him. One day Gaz had enough of listening to him ramble on about some random person that Soap claimed he was in a “relationship” with, “Jeez Soap stop rambling about your imaginary partner, everyone knows you lying about it.” Soap was stunned before saying “Imaginary? What in the bloody hell do you mean imaginary I’ve been with them for months for Christ's sake” He looked towards Ghost before adding “C'mon L.T. you don’t think I’m lying do ya?” Soap fully expected Ghost to call Gaz crazy and say Soap one hundred percent wasn’t lying but boy was he wrong “I do think it’s a little suspicious Johnny, from what you’ve shown me and told me, It’s hard to believe” Gaz smirked at Soap while he was in utter shock, “Just wait ya pricks, I’ll let you met them one day and when I do, it’ll shut you up real fucking fast.” Ghost and Gaz snickered while just saying “Whatever you say, Johnny”. About a month later, Johnny had the opportunity to bring you to the pub as your schedule was free. When you walked in heading over to Soap kissing him before sitting down, You introduced yourself to his fellow teammates shaking their hands while saying “Hi, I’m Y/n, I’m Johnny’s Partner nice to meet you all.” They all stood there in shock.
Gaz: Gaz and you had started dating a while back, he never really thought to mention you to his team, until one day Price was asking him about going out to the Pub on the incoming Friday with him and the rest of the squadron, Gaz quickly declined to say “Sorry Cap, I’ve got a date with the Missus that day.” Soap quickly laughed before saying “Yeah right more like you’ve got a date with your right hand, mate.” Everyone around him let out a laugh before Gaz interrupted them “Fuck off, For your information I do have a partner ya twats.” they all kept making fun of him and calling him a liar he sighed walking out of the room shaking his head, oh would he show them. The following week he had brought you to a restaurant for a date, it just so happened that his teammates were dining at the same place. You both walked in sitting down as he pulled out your chair for you, his task force immediately saw the both of you a couple of tables away, they were in utter shock, to say the least. After the both of you had finished your dinner and you were walking out, Gaz felt their eyes on the two of you so as he had his hand around your back he used his other to flip them off as you both left, before walking the both of you to his car, His teammates didn’t expect that, any of that.
well I hoped you enjoyed this !! it was a lot of fun to write and thank you again for your request and as always any feedback is appreciated !!
luv, luvver
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ijwrsmff · 9 months
Note
hiiii, I was wondering if you could write live action mihawk and reader dining at the baratie?(it doesnt have to be meeting the crew, it could just be a date?) have a wonderful day! <333
I most certainly can!!! He was cast so well, my god. I don't think there's been any casting in the Live Action that wasn't just. Perfectttttttt. Sanji shows up briefly, but it's before he joined the strawhats. I've also only seen Mihawk's intro, so all my knowledge of this fic was based off that and what I know about him in the anime. So if things are a little bit off I'm sorry :,3 I plan to watch more tonight after writing for a while.
He's very soft in this one.
Word Count: 1,270
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Today was special! It would be your six month anniversary with your boyfriend. It was odd at first, even considering dating the greatest swordsman in the world. He was cold and calculating, but he did have a soft side. You were glad you gave him the chance, and got to see it. 
He was never embarrassed to be with you, and in fact…showed you off with pride. He would sit and feed you if you asked, doted on you, whatever you wanted. A dominant soul, but he was aware of that and embraced it. He would always be at your beck and call. Protecting you, even just with his status in the world. No one dared mess with you. 
Mihawk had suggested the place that you met as your anniversary date. The Baratie, world renowned. Often people would sit on the waitlist around holidays, or even just weekends. But he never needed a reservation, he was a loyal customer at this point. It was a special place to you both, and it would be the perfect location for any anniversary. 
“Would you like me to order for you?” He knew you could get anxious about ordering, so he always offered. You didn’t always even need him to, but it was a nice gesture. “What would you like? I could order it. Never worry about price, darling.” He smiled momentarily, not showing his smile often. Unless he was with you. It was heartwarming, to say the least. 
Mihawk wasn’t the most wealthy man in the world…but he was pretty damn close. Not everyone can afford their own island and castle. But he certainly could, and with ease, too. He still managed to be humble, in some ways despite that fact. He would continue to buy you anything you could ever want. He’d make sure you got it, as soon as you did so much as to look at something for a few seconds. 
“I’m okay! I can order this time.” You smiled at him, and he nodded in confirmation, smiling back momentarily. “What are you gonna get?” You looked through the menu for a little bit, trying to decide on some of your favorites. They always have such good food. It was hard to pick most of the time, and they probably knew it too. 
“I’ll go with my usual, do you need help picking something?” He offered, always willing to help you. He could be so considerate, and kind. Not to everyone, but especially to you. “I can recommend something based on your likes and dislikes.” He smiled, this time for longer. He could always relax more when you were around. It may not look like it to others, but he was pretty relaxed right now, enjoying your anniversary with him as much as you were. 
“Hm…I was thinking about these two, but I can’t decide which one I want more!” You looked at the menu for so long that you didn’t notice the waiter coming to your table until he spoke. It startled you a bit, and you jumped, making both the waiter and Mihawk chuckle. 
The waiter’s name was Sanji, and he looked at you with what could have been hearts for eyes. But he knew better than to say anything after last time. Wouldn’t stop him from looking though. When you were here before, he had flirted with you. Mihawk…being him was confident you wouldn’t leave him for the waiter. But he did warn him with a “If you’d like to keep your hands, I suggest you keep them away from my partner.” He was protective, but you knew he wouldn’t actually fight the waiter. 
Mihawk didn’t result to violence, so you knew it was an empty threat. His amused look he directed at you proved that fact. Sanji didn’t know that though, and raised his hands in defeat, saying you’d be protected well by the greatest swordsman in the world. “Allowed” Mihawk to be with you. Because apparently according to him you needed that affirmation. It was amusing to the both of you, at least. 
Dinner went by smoothly, and you talked the majority of the time. Mihawk was an amazing listener, but not too much of a talker. He was more content to listen to everything you said, and his memory was so good he had no problem remembering all the stories you told. Sometimes he would pitch in, or ask active listening questions to show you had his undivided attention. 
Out of nowhere though, he tilted his head and looked at you as if you were the brightest star in the sky, uttering an “I love you.” As you were about to finish your food. He did like to throw that out there often, and only became more frequent as your relationship progressed. “Would you like to order a dessert?” It was another way he said he loved you. By offering you what he could effortlessly provide. 
“Mhm! And I love you too.” You giggled and finished your food, as he flagged down the waiter and ordered your favorite dessert they had. You didn’t even have to tell him what it was, he remembered. He always did. “Would you like to share it?” Was your offer, though you already knew his answer. 
“One bite will suffice. The dessert is for you, afterall.” He smiled, and allowed you to talk until the dessert arrived. Once it did, he opened his mouth expectantly, waiting for you to feed it to him. 
You did so, without being prompted to. It was always so cute to you when you fed each other. He could care less if the people in the restaurant saw the display of affection. He swirled the spoon with his tongue, making eye contact with you the whole time. 
“You’re such a tease!” You giggled and he smiled softly. It was a funny and domestic moment, and it made you say, “I do love you though. No matter how much of a tease you can be.” As you winked at him. He winked back, but relaxed in his seat while you ate. 
Reclining a bit, you finished the dessert. He talked for a bit through it, mostly how his island was doing since you hadn’t been to it in a couple weeks. As much as you loved him listening, he had such a soothing voice. It was cool, and deliberate. He never said something that wasn’t important. Or a compliment to you, which was just as important to him as it could be. 
He packaged up your remaining entre for you, and stood up to leave. “That was a wonderful date, darling.” He said as he left the money on the table. It had a generous tip, since he always makes sure to do so. “Would you like me to drop you off at your island?” His arm was around your waist, to make sure you didn’t fall off when getting onto his small “boat”. 
“I wouldn’t mind spending time on your island! I know we won't get back anytime soon…but it’s your home.” You smiled, and sat on his lap when he made his place on the boat. “I’d like to spend more time with you!” He wrapped his arms around your middle, and the boat began to move. 
“One day it will be OUR home. I never mind spending more time with you, either.” He sighed, and rested his head on your shoulder. “Whenever you’re ready, it can be yours.” He placed a soft kiss on your cheek, making you giggle. 
“We’ll have time. As long as you’ll have me.” 
“Now and always.” 
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bro-atz · 3 months
Text
don't cross that line
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in which: once you cross that line, there's no going back, and you just happened to cross that line with your best friend, choi jongho.
pair: uni student!jongho/uni student!afab!reader
word count: 7.3k
content: light fluff?, smut, friends to lovers au, suuuuuuper plot heavy, drunken kisses, sober sex, bedroom sex, completely consensual!
rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact
author's note: for the lovely @yourlocaljonghoe who asked for a jongho friends to lovers au and bada bing bada boom here it is mwah also may or may not be based off true events also i desperately wanted to include a cuddle scene because of this so you're welcome...? AND HUGE THANKS TO @yunhoszn FOR BETA-ING FOR ME YOU'RE A DOLL BABES MWAH
network: @cromernet
taglist: @k-hotchoisan @eyeryis @sinnarols @aaasia111 @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia @dazzlingstarrs @dutchessskarma @/yourlocaljonghoe @st4rhwa @frobin4ever @sanhwajjong @certifiedmoa @therealcuppicake @yuyubeans @hyunukitty @startlinglyoongi @hyukssunflower @chewyhotteoks @alexwritesfics apply for the permanent taglist here!
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“Listen, all I can really say is that if she wanted to do well on the project, she would’ve pulled her weight,” Jongho grumbled.
You and Jongho were getting lunch in between classes. The two of you usually talked about classes during your break, and that day, you decided to bring up the last group project that you worked on. Jongho had to carry his team while you ended up having a blast with your own, making him all the more salty.
“Yeah, but that’s no reason to make her cry,” you pointed out.
“It’s her fault for not doing the work.”
“Jongho, she was your girlfriend. You didn’t have to be so mean.”
“Was, thank God,” Jongho let out a sigh of relief. “Honestly this whole dating thing is such bullshit— I just want to get my degree and get out of here.”
“Wow. How romantic,” you said sarcastically and rolled your eyes.
“Shut up,” Jongho retorted while throwing a fry at your face. “It’s your fault I was dating her in the first place.”
“I said go on one date with her. No one told you to ask her to be your girlfriend.”
“Yeah, well… Shut up.”
You shrugged, a smug smile appearing on your face as you realized that you won that argument. Jongho took a bite of his burger, annoyance written all over his face as you rubbed your smug smile. Jongho chose to fully ignore you at that point, making you turn to your phone to see that you were going to be late for your next class if you didn’t haul your ass out of there.
“Hey, I gotta go. I’ll see you tonight?” you asked him.
“Yeah. See ya,” Jongho responded with a nod and a light wave.
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There was a Tuesday night tradition you, Jongho, and a couple other friends from school had— Trivia Night. One of your other friends worked at the bar that hosted the trivia, which is how you came to know of it in the first place.
That being said, even though you went for trivia, you guys never actually played. It was more of an excuse to go drinking in the middle of the week than anything, which meant every Tuesday, you and your friends were drinking way too much and screwing yourselves over for classes the next day.
“Hey, Joong!” you said, your words staring to slur together. “Let’s do a shot together.”
“Yeah! All of us!” your friend, Mingi, added as he hugged you from behind.
“Fine, last round, and then I’m sending you home,” Hongjoong replied while rolling his eyes, a playful smile on his face.
“Good idea. Y/N’s been getting a little handsy with me,” another friend, Yunho, said as he brushed your straying hand off his thigh— you couldn’t help it; you were an affectionate drunk.
The five of you clinked glasses and took your shots, Yunho and Jongho doing it with ease while you and Mingi made faces as the liquor burned your throats.
“Hey, so did you guys look into your classes for next semester?” Jongho asked.
“Not yet,” Yunho shook his head. “I’m guessing you have?”
“Yeah. We have to take the senior colloquium, so why don’t we all try for the same time and recitation? Keep us sane in our last semester of college.”
“Alright, that sounds good,” you giggled and hugged Jongho. “It’ll be fun to have a final class together.”
Mingi settled for nodding while also giggling. Jongho wanted to talk about the matter further, but you and Mingi were just far too gone to have a proper conversation at that point, so he just settled for talking to the group about it when you all were sober.
You were still clinging to Jongho as he sat quietly and thought about classes while sipping his beer, your head on his shoulder, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist. You couldn’t help but stare at him as he was lost deep in thought, and your drunk self thought it was the perfect time to nuzzle your nose in his neck.
“Alright, we’re going home,” Jongho immediately declared.
“What? Why?” you complained as Jongho got out of your embrace and grabbed your arm to put over his shoulder.
“Because you’re done.”
“How do you figure?”
“Because I know. Let’s go home before you yak on the bar again,” Jongho shut you down and started dragging you out of the bar. “Yunho, let me know how much we owe you after you close the tab.”
“Will do!” Yunho responded cheerfully as he watched Jongho drag you away.
“Bye Yuyu, Mango, Joong!” you managed to say before leaving the establishment.
The walk home was atrocious for Jongho. You refused to walk in a straight line and kept trying to pull him towards any bar that you passed, and at some point, Jongho had enough and made you get on his back so he could piggyback you back to your apartment. His patience was wearing thinner as you started playing with his hair and tickling his neck, but you were his best friend, and you were drunk out of your fucking mind, so he was going to be there for you.
By the time Jongho got you home, you were practically falling asleep on his back— he had a very comfy back, not going to lie. He put you down right in front of your door, but instead of reaching for your keys, you slumped onto him, his chest catching you before you went tumbling down.
And then, you blacked out.
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You woke up the next morning with a horrible hangover and absolutely no memory of how you got back from the bar in the first place— you remembered Jongho walking you home, but how you ended up in your bed was a complete mystery to you. There was a nagging feeling in the back of your mind, that you did something you shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what it was, nor did you have the time to ponder it because you had to get your ass out of bed and onto campus.
Your first class was absolute torture, your headache intensifying as the lecture went on and on, and by the time the class was over, you were ready to fall over. You trudged out of the classroom to see your friends waiting for you— they usually waited for you after your Wednesday morning class so that all four of you could grab lunch— Yunho immediately pulling you in for a hug.
“You look like shit,” he commented while hugging you.
“Wow, really? I had no idea,” you responded with heavy sarcasm.
“What the fuck happened to you last night for you to look like this?” Mingi asked. 
“I have no fucking clue,” you groaned. “All I remember is leaving the bar…”
But, your statement was drowned out by Mingi as he dramatically grabbed his chest and gasped, “Did you and Jongho go and drink more without us?!”
“Yeah, no. Y/N was too wasted for that,” Jongho shook his head. “I took her home directly.”
“I guess the hangover is only hitting so hard because I’m not as young as I used to be,” you sighed loudly.
“…We’re all in our early twenties. Shut up,” Yunho said while rolling his eyes.
“I dunno man, Jongho acts like an old man a lot,” Mingi said with a slight giggle. “I think he’s in his eighties.”
As the three boys bickered, your mind lingered on Jongho’s words. He took you home directly, and you remembered that, but… How the hell did you get into your apartment? And why was the weird feeling still lingering?
“Hey,” you pulled Jongho out of the argument and to the side, the two tall men still walking without realizing you and Jongho were no longer walking with them. “Can we talk?”
“Sure,” Jongho agreed, the two of you moving to the side of the hallway.
“Did… Did something happen last night?” you asked. “Because I have this nagging feeling that I did something, but I… I don’t know what.” 
“Don’t worry about it, and just sleep it off,” Jongho replied. “Look, I gotta get to class. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Right, yeah, okay…” you trailed off as Jongho left you standing there more confused than ever.
Because what did he mean by “don’t worry about it”? What the fuck did you do last night?
You decided to take matters into your own hands. After you were done with classes for the day, you went straight to the bar because, Goddammit, you needed answers or at least some clarity.
“Joong!” you called loudly the second you got into the bar. “I have a question for you!”
You plopped yourself down on one of the bar stools and looked at the bartender, a determined glint in your eye, but a heavy sigh on your lips.
“Geez, you look like shit,” Hongjoong commented on your appearance the second he stood in front of you.
“That seems to be the general consensus today… Ugh, anyway. Did I do something wrong last night?”
“What?” Hongjoong’s face twisted in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Like… Okay, I feel like I did something I shouldn’t have done last night,” you explained. “And I’m trying to figure it out.”
“You were fine here— well, you were shit-faced, and Jongho took you home, and that’s about it,” the bartender recollected. “You didn’t do anything outta pocket.”
“Okay… I still feel like… I’m missing something,” you grumbled to yourself, but the man could still hear you.
“Why don’t you ask Jongho since he walked you home last night?”
“See, I tried doing that, but he told me “don’t worry about it”,” you said, exasperated, while using air quotes. “What the fuck does that mean— What should I not worry about?!”
“I don’t know!” Hongjoong held his arms up as if you were holding him at gunpoint and demanding answers. “The only thing I can say is ask him again, or maybe sleep on it, and it’ll come to you.”
“So helpful,” you couldn’t help but be sarcastic. “Fine, I’ll sleep on it. Thanks for the help, Joong.”
You got off the stool and were about to head for the exit when the bartender asked, “So you’re not going to get a drink?”
“Are you fucking kidding— No! Bye, Joong!”
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“Hey, Jongho?”
The two of you were sitting on your couch— Jongho came over after he finished his classes for the day.
“What’s up?”
“Are you sure I didn’t do anything that night?” you asked him, your voice slightly wavering.
“I told you not to worry about it,” he responded with a sigh.
“No, but I’m going to worry about it because I want to know!” you exclaimed. “You being all vague and shit about it just makes me more concerned, and I just need you to tell me for my own sanity.”
Jongho let out yet another sigh. He looked straight at you, his eyes meeting yours. You never realized how pretty his eyes were until you made proper eye contact, and the bigger his eyes got, the prettier they became. Then, you realized that his eyes were not getting bigger, but he was moving closer to you. You leaned backwards, your back hitting the arm rest as he pinned you against it, his light exhale flitting past your cheek.
“You really want to know?” he asked, his voice lower and softer than usual.
“I… I do. I do want to know.”
Shocks ran through your body when he caressed your face lightly, his dainty fingertips rubbing lightly against your ear. He leaned in closer to you, making you squeeze your eyes shut since you assumed that he was going to kiss you. Instead, he whispered in your ear, “You told me you loved me.”
He leaned away, allowing you to look at him with complete and utter shock. You tried to brush off the tension building in the room and between your legs as you responded as light-heartedly as you could, “But I always tell you that I love you.”
“Yes, but…” Jongho placed his hand on your thigh and slowly moved it upwards, his voice dropping even lower. “Last night, you told me that you meant it, that you were in love with me.”
Your jaw dropped. Your eyes darted back and forth, and your heart rate picked up as you tried to make sense of the situation— his words, his actions, and your body’s reactions.
“I— I did?” you whispered.
“Yes, and then,” Jongho’s voice also hushed to a whisper as he leaned close to you once more, his hand going further along your thigh, nearing your crotch. “You kissed me.”
“I… I— I,” you stammered, not a single coherent thought left in your brain.
Your brain only got emptier when you felt his soft lips against yours, your body immediately melting into his comfortable touch. You reciprocated his kiss, your hands unconsciously moving from his shoulders to his neck, bringing you closer to him. Your body lurched towards his when you felt his hand move around to your ass, the man firmly cupping it while his other hand slipped under your shirt and traced the curve of your waist, a soft moan playing on your lips.
“Just admit it,” he said softly with his lips still pressed against yours. “You love me, and I love you, too.”
His teeth got a hold of your lower lip and tugged it upwards as his hand started kneading your breast, making you gasp. Then, his patience started wearing thin. He lifted your shirt and moved your bra up to reveal your breasts, his mouth immediately going right for your nipple, and as he sucked, his hands pulled your pants down to reveal your soaking cunt. You were moaning loudly at that point, Jongho’s name barely rolling off your tongue.
When Jongho slipped his slender fingers into you, your entire body reacted. Your back arched, your toes curled, and your hands ran through his hair and gripped it tightly, his fingers pleasuring you greatly. He kept curling them inside you, searching for your G-spot, and once he found it, you cried loudly and sat up in bed.
In bed?
You looked around. Jongho was nowhere to be found, and you were in bed, awake. What the fuck… was that? You blinked the sleep out of your eyes and shifted in bed, only to feel something wet between your legs. You lifted your duvet to see that you were sitting on clean sheets, but soaking up your panties was your arousal.
Did you seriously just have a sex dream about your best friend?
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You were mortified with yourself. For the rest of that week, you avoided Jongho like the plague because every single time you saw him, guilt pricked at your skin, brain, and heart. How could you dream of your best friend like that and then see him in the same way ever again? How were you supposed to act normal around him?
And so, you avoided the shit out of him. Seriously. You made sure to use the other exit from your classroom so that you wouldn’t have to deal with the group walking with you, and you ditched all of your regular spots because, fuck, you had no idea how you were going to be normal around him when you couldn’t even be normal with yourself before sleeping.
Because, truth is, that dream did something to you. Any time Jongho popped into your mind, your cunt would clench, and your body would rush with heat; and if you thought about him at night, you desperately had to do something about it. So, basically, every night, you were touching yourself while thinking about your friend— your best friend. What the fuck was wrong with you?
You were forced to meet with the group on Tuesday— Yunho left you a very long, very angry, very drunk voicemail telling you that if you didn’t show up on Tuesday, he was going to murder you. You doubted him, but when you heard Jongho and Mingi try to hold him back in the voicemail, you decided it wasn’t worth risking it.
You and Mingi were the first ones there, the two of you sitting in awkward silence as Hongjoong served you your drinks.
“Okay, um, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Mingi asked after taking a solid sip of his beer.
“W-What do you mean?”
“You’ve been avoiding us all fucking week! Did we do something wrong, or like, do you hate us or—”
“Oh my God, Mingi, no,” you immediately assured the guy. “I wasn’t trying to avoid all of you! Just…”
“Just what?”
“I was avoiding Jongho…”
“What the fuck? Why?” Mingi’s tone went from accusatory to worried and sympathetic, making you relax a little bit.
“Okay, so, uh… The other night… I… I may or may not have had a sex dream about Jongho… And when I woke up, I just… I got super turned on.”
“Wait, was it a wet dream?”
“I don’t know… Can girls even have wet dreams?”
“Well… Sounds like a wet dream to me,” Mingi answered after pondering the idea for a little.
“Great. Either way, I can’t even look at him the same way anymore. Fucking kill me,” you groaned as you laid your head on the bar top.
“Wait, so why’d you even dream about it?”
“I don’t know, man! I’ve been friends with the guy for fucking years, and this is the first time I’ve ever dreamt about him like that— and what’s worse is that he was so fucking good in my dream! Ugh, I wanna die!”
Mingi, who found the whole ideal hysterical, was laughing his ass off as he watched you get more and more mortified by the second.
“Did you ever figure out what happened that night, Y/N?” Hongjoong entered the conversation, making Mingi’s laughter die down a little.
“No,” you sulked. “I never got the chance to ask him again… I asked him in that dream, though.”
That made Mingi laugh all over again. He was clutching his stomach and laughing until he started crying, and he continued to laugh his ass off even when Yunho arrived. Well, he was still laughing, but he was able to wheeze to Yunho, “Dude, listen to this—”
“Mango, shut the fuck up!” you kicked Mingi in the shin, although that did nothing to the guy.
“Y/N had a random sex dream about Jongho!” Mingi barely said before laughing all over again.
“Really?” Yunho asked— he didn’t seem surprised, though.
“Yeah,” you said sadly.
“Well, I guess it makes sense that you’d have a sex dream about him considering what you did,” Yunho pondered out loud.
Mingi stopped laughing, and you, Hongjoong, and Mingi all stared at the tall man, Hongjoong asking, “What the fuck did she do?”
“She kissed him.”
The three of you stared at Yunho with wide eyes and dropped jaws.
“What?!”
“Yeah, Jongho told me about it.”
Your brain, at that point, was erroring out as it tried to recollect the events of that night while Mingi, on the other hand, was so insulted.
“You knew about this and didn’t tell me?!” he asked, feigning injury.
“I thought he told you! What do you want me to do about it?”
“Just check in with me next time! We should share everything with each other, Yunho.”
Yunho and Mingi continued to bicker in the background as you finally, finally, remembered what happened that night.
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“Y/N, you’re home,” he said quietly while standing you upright. “Where are your keys?”
“In my pocket," you said with a slight giggle— the jeans you had on actually had front pockets, so you usually stashed your keys in there so you wouldn’t have to wear a purse when you had those jeans on.
With a sigh, Jongho carefully dug into your pocket, his fingers lightly grazing your upper thigh. You couldn’t help but let out a little moan; his action was so minimal and unintentional, but it still felt fucking good. God, you were definitely wasted.
Then, a crazy thought entered your drunken brain. You realized that you needed to thank Jongho for getting you home safe. Granted, it was his job as your best friend (not really, but what are friends for?) to make sure you made it home, but you still had to thank him, right? So, right after Jongho unlocked your door and opened it for you, you grabbed him by the collar, and you thanked him by kissing him.
To be honest, it was the world’s most anti-climactic kiss. Your lips just pressed against his, and that was it. When you moved away, you could see that Jongho was in complete shock, his jaw dropped slightly. His eyes were darting back and forth as he tried to decipher what the fuck you just did. His hands, which were previously on your shoulders, dropped to the side, limp.
That’s when you made the situation worse. You pulled him towards you again and kissed him properly. It was a gentle kiss, your lips enveloping his upper lip, your hand moving from his collar to his neck to make the kiss the slightest bit more sensual. And, to your surprise, you felt his hands on your waist. He reciprocated the kiss, bringing his body closer to yours as he kissed you more passionately. You were practically melting in his arms the longer he kissed you, your brain officially erroring out as you lost yourself in him.
When the chain of kisses ended, you found yourself dazed. You truly didn’t know what to say or do, so you just patted his chest and whispered, “I… Uh… Good night, Jongho…”
Jongho seemed unfazed, as if he wasn’t just making out with you seconds prior. He nodded and patted your head while responding, “Good night, Y/N. Sleep well.”
“Yeah, you too…”
Brain fuzzy, you crashed in your bed, your face still rosy and your lips slightly sore from kissing your best friend. Your best fucking friend.
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You buried your face in your hands when you realized what you did, your mind chanting “what the fuck?” over and over again. You felt someone’s hand on your shoulder, but there was no way you were going to be consoled so easily.
“Y/N, don’t worry about it. It was a tiny mistake,” Hongjoong said softly. “We all know that you’re not usually like that.”
“I’m sick and tired of people telling me not to worry about it,” you groaned. “And being drunk is not an excuse… I… What do I do?”
The four of you were silent until Yunho said quietly, “I think you should just talk to him.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, just talk it through. You guys are best friends, and I don’t like seeing the two of you avoiding each other.”
“Wait,” your head snapped up. “What do you mean each other? I thought I was avoiding him…”
“Why do you think he’s not here right now?” Yunho pointed out.
You gaped. Trivia was about to start soon, and Jongho was nowhere in sight.
“Where is he?”
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All you did was kiss the guy, but you felt the guilt weighing on your shoulders not just because of the kiss but because of everything else you did following the kiss. The guy was your best friend for crying out loud. If it was just the kiss, you would’ve apologized immediately, and all would’ve been well, but the dreams just made it so much harder for you to do anything— even knocking on his apartment door was fucking difficult.
You somehow mustered the courage to do it, and after a couple of seconds, Jongho answered the door. He was wearing his standard class outfit: jeans, a hoodie, and a jean jacket; but he looked so fucking hot, so boyfriend material in them, that your heart actually skipped a beat or two.
“Hey,” Jongho spoke first, pulling you out of your head before you could spiral into a dizzy daydream.
“H-Hey, uh… Can I come in?”
Holding the door open, Jongho invited you in. You walked in hesitantly, awkwardly. You’d been in his apartment so many Goddamn times, so you shouldn’t have been so timid, but your anxiety truly got the better of you.
The two of you ended up taking a seat at his tiny dining table, the man sitting across from you. You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt as you looked down and tried to spit out something, anything.
“So…” you finally uttered. “I wanted to apologize.”
“For what?” Jongho genuinely sounded confused.
“I got really drunk the other night—”
“Y/N, it’s fine. I told you not to worry about it.”
“No! It’s not fine, Jongho,” you shook your head. “I— I came onto you, which was totally not cool of me, and I’m really sorry for that. I don’t like that you’re uncomfortable around me, which is totally valid considering what I did, but like… You’re my best friend, and it’s so weird that we’re avoiding each other like this…”
“Wait… Huh?”
“What?”
“I didn’t think you remembered, which is why I told you to not worry about it,” Jongho explained.
“I mean, I didn’t at first, but then it came rushing back to me like just now at the bar after Yunho told me what I did, and God, I feel awful for doing that to you,” you rambled.
“Why do you feel awful?”
“Because I kissed you without consent…? Isn’t that why you were avoiding me?”
“That… That wasn’t nonconsensual, Y/N…” Jongho started mumbling as the tips of his ears turned red.
“What… Um, what do you mean, Jongho?” you asked in a small voice.
“I mean…”
Jongho pressed his lips together and looked away, his ears turning redder as he ran his fingers through his hair. The guy was embarrassed as fuck, but he still managed to look so attractive that it made your heart, and your cunt, clench hard. He left his hand on the back of his head as he brought his gaze back to you.
“I kissed you back…”
Your jaw dropped slightly. Stammering, you asked, “S-So… What, uh.. What does that mean?”
“That I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I like you. And I was avoiding you because… Well, I didn’t want you to know that I, uh, had feelings… For you…”
Your face erupted into flames. You looked straight down at your lap, your eyes darting back and forth as you tried to make sense of the situation. The two of you were absolutely silent as clouds of embarrassment and slight tension filled the room.
“Wait…” Jongho broke the silence. “So, if you just remembered, then why were you avoiding me?”
“O-Oh… Because…” you forced yourself to get the words out— knowing him, he wouldn’t let you go without a proper explanation, and there was no way you were going to be able to lie to him at that point. Plus, even if you didn’t tell him, Mingi was going to, and it was definitely better that you told him than your dumbass friend.
“Spit it out, Y/N,” Jongho said, his voice breaking you out of your trance.
“Right.. Because I, uh… I had a sex dream about you… And now I can’t… Not see you… In… That… Way…”
And with that, you buried your face in your hands, trying to extinguish the red on your face; you could practically feel steam leaving your ears because of how embarrassed you were.
Jongho, meanwhile, was completely taken aback, but in the best way possible. If you were dreaming about him in that sense, did that mean you liked him back? That the feelings were mutual? That the kiss actually meant something whether you realized it or not?
While you were dying of embarrassment, Jongho hugged you— he thought he was reassuring you, but it only made you more shy and a little turned on feeling the way he hugged you securely to his surprisingly firm yet soft chest (you hugged him all the fucking time, so why you were only noticing it now was a mystery to you). You were so ready to let out a squeal— more like a dying dolphin noise— of embarrassment when you felt him choke down a chuckle and start petting your hair. Goddammit, was he trying to drive you insane?
Luckily, Jongho didn’t push the topic further (yet). The embarrassment slowly died down, and when you felt your heart unclench, you timidly hugged him back, and once you calmed down enough, he let go of you. Then, he fucking made your heart skip a million beats when he brushed your hair out of your face and looked at you with the softest eyes you had ever seen on him. You had seen him with plenty of girlfriends in the past, but this was the first time you had ever seen him display so much affection— and for you, of all people.
At some point, the two of you migrated to his sofa where you were sipping on water on one end of the long sofa and he was sitting in the arm chair next to the sofa like a fucking king. You had to keep your eyes on your water because if you got even the tiniest glimpse of his thighs and the way he was manspreading, you would fully combust.
“Y/N,” Jongho asked, his voice softer than ever.
“Yes!” you sat up attentively. “I-I mean, yeah…?”
You for sure thought Jongho was going to laugh at your actions, but he didn’t. He looked like everything was normal, but his ears were bright red once again.
“So…” he started. “In this dream… What happened?”
You choked on your water. You knew he was going to ask at some point, but you didn’t think he would actually ask you. You set the cup of water down on the coffee table in front of you and sighed softly before explaining the dream to him.
And as you explained your dream to him, Jongho’s face didn’t change in the slightest. He took all of your words in and just kept nodding, making it a little easier for you to tell him. Finally, after you finished retelling your dream— you only told him the dream that started all because God forbid he ever found out about you touching yourself while thinking about him in your dreams— he nodded and said, “Oh, wow… Hopefully, I live up to the way you dream made me out to be… Well, only if you’re okay with that.”
You blinked and froze, the words slowly starting to sink in. Was he asking for consent? Oh my God, did he want to fuck you?!
Without realizing it, you nodded slowly, your body taking over your mind. Then, you whispered, “I’d… I’d like to experience it for real…” giving him the verbal consent that he wanted.
Jongho held out his hand, willing you to hold it. He tugged your hand to make you get up and stand before him, and before you knew it, you were straddling him, your ass pressing against his knees. He was looking up at you with the softest, sparkliest eyes that you’d ever seen on him, making your heart skip a beat but in a way that was different from the way your wet dream version of him did.
With one hand on your back and the other weaving his fingers through your hair, Jongho led your head to meet his, his lips pressing against yours softly. He kissed you slowly, passionately. You were holding onto his shoulders at first, only for you to move your hand to his face and cup his cheek, the kisses deepening, your tongue slipping into his mouth as you felt your body slowly start to heat up.
His hands moved from your hair and back to your thighs, the palms of his hands rubbing against your clothed thighs so slowly and sensually that electricity zapped through all of your nerves. He let out little gasps and groans in between your kisses, his fingers pressing into your thighs when you tugged upwards on his lower lip.
Jongho was a lot more calculative with his actions in real life than in your dreams. His hands trailed from your thighs to around your butt, only to rest on the small of your back, his fingers teasing you by tugging at the waistband of your pants but not actually moving them down. You whined lightly against his lips, your hands gripping the collar of his jean jacket to get him to stop teasing you and start stripping both you and him down.
What sold him on moving faster was not the threat of your grip, but the way you were rolling your hips into him, the slightest movement making the bulge in his pants grow bigger and tighter; and it certainly did not help when you ran your fingers along his neck, one finger lingering on the little mole on his neck.
His intensity increased immediately. His hands went under your thighs and shifted you so that you were straddling only one of his thighs. He pushed down on your waist so that you were fully sitting on his thigh before running his hands up your shirt, his fingers brushing along the sensitive spots on your back.
The two of you only stopped kissing when you forced him to take off his jacket and when he helped you get out of your shirt, his eyes scanning your body as you tossed the shirt to the side.
“W-What? What is it?” you whispered, suddenly self-conscious and slightly reluctant to take your bra off.
“You’re stunning, Y/N,” he breathed out, his hands tracing the curve of your waist.
The compliment made you all sorts of shy all over again, making you bury your face in the nook of his neck. Jongho used that opportunity to unhook your bra, the straps slipping off your shoulders the second the band released. You ended up slipping the bra off, leaving your entire torso exposed. You felt the blush on your face get more intense when his hands and lips roamed your body, the man’s eyelashes fluttering as he left tiny, soft kisses along your skin.
Your hips resumed rolling, your clothed cunt rubbing along his thigh as his hands cupped and clutched your breasts. His hands kneaded your breasts continuously as he left little pink marks along your collarbone, chest, cleavage; and finally, when his mouth found your nipples, his hands moved back to your ass and held the underside of your ass securely as he sucked and nibbled on your tit.
“Jongho!” you cried as you flung your head back. “I— Angh— I—!”
You couldn’t form a single thought the second he started moving the waistband of your pants down. The only thing you could do was forcibly move his head up so that he was forced to look into your eyes, his dark hair covering his sparkling eyes slightly.
“I want you to fuck me already,” you whispered— more like whimpered— while grasping the collar of his shirt.
Wordlessly and effortlessly, Jongho stood up with you in his arms, your legs automatically wrapping around him as he carried you to his bedroom. He laid you down on his bed gently before starting to slowly remove his own clothes.
It was dark in his room, but thanks to the moonlight and the lights from the city, you were able to see his muscles and toned body reveal themselves as the clothes came off, and when he took off his pants, you saw that his cock, his girthy cock, was impatient and ready to go— you couldn’t even imagine the amount of self-restraint he was using if his cock was that red and angry.
Jongho turned to his nightstand and produced a condom. He tore the packet open and tossed it somewhere before rolling the condom on and getting on the bed next to you.
“C’mere,” he whispered as he laid down.
Soon, you were straddling him once more, your wet cunt hovering above his erect cock. At first, you thought he was going to ask you to ride him, but instead, he pulled your arms down so that you were essentially pinning him down, his lips making contact with yours as your chest pressed against his. His fingers ran through your hair and held the back of your head as he pushed your face closer to his, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth.
You were so distracted by his tongue dancing with yours that you didn’t even realize his hands moved to your ass and his cock, lining up your entrance with the tip before pushing you down slowly, the girth of his cock spreading you so wide that you thought you were going to tear.
You cried against his mouth as he filled you up, your ass pressing against his thighs as he remained still inside you. Your walls clenched tightly around his fat cock, making him sharply inhale in between kisses, a little grunt escaping him shortly thereafter.
After a couple of seconds, you were able to relax your pussy just enough to start moving comfortably, your ass slapping his waist lightly as you moved your waist up and down. You moved slowly and gently at first as you moaned against Jongho’s lips, your chest rubbing against his, your nipples getting more sore by the second.
But, you were going a little too slow for the man underneath you. His hands, still on your ass, held onto you tightly as his waist jerked upwards. Your ass slapped against his waist so hard that the sound echoed in the room, and it felt so fucking good that your lips left Jongho’s so you could cry out in pleasure.
Jongho wanted to hear those cries more, so he continued to ram his waist upwards, and as he did so, he moved your ass so that he was continuously rubbing against your G-spot, making your orgasm arrive way sooner than you expected. You moaned loudly and dropped your head into the nook of his neck as you came, your cunt creaming around his dick.
You were panting heavily as Jongho sat up, his cock still deep inside you. Yet, he didn’t move. You remained seated on his lap as he gave you a second to recover and blink the stars out of your eyes as he moved his lips to your neck, peppering small kisses along your soft skin. His arms wrapped around you, his fingers pressing lightly into your waist and back, his nails tickling you ever so slightly. You rested your arms on his shoulders and let out euphoric sighs as he kissed you all over, leaving the occasional pink mark on your skin as he worked his way around the blank canvas of your body.
He started leaning into you the more he kissed you until he had you pinned to the bed. He was hovering above you when your back settled into the mattress, his hands laid flat right above your shoulders. The two of you just stared at each other, your mouths slightly open as you breathed in unison. Jongho’s hair was covering his eyes slightly, but you could still see them sparkle as he gazed into your eyes. His soft touch brushed against your temple as he moved your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear before cupping your face and kissing your lips lightly, a small smile appearing on his face.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and brought him closer to you, your lips yearning for him to kiss you more deeply, more passionately; and your waist shifted slightly and impatiently as you waited for him to fuck you. The second he locked lips with you again, his hips gyrated into yours, the light slaps of your waist meeting his filling the room.
Jongho’s pace slowly started speeding up, and the intensity of his thrusts increased exponentially as your cunt started taking the shape of his cock. Your insides started heating up to the point where you thought the friction was going to start a fire within you, and every time his waist rammed into yours with a satisfying slap, you let out a gasp mixed with a moan, your head pushing back further into the mattress.
Your legs wrapped around his waist completely, allowing him to thrust even faster into you. Jongho kept gasping your name softly as his orgasm neared, the melodic sound of your name leaving his lips making your body tingle all over and your toes curl. You hugged him even closer to you so that his chest was against yours and his nose was rubbing against the crook of your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” Jongho gasped as you clenched around him.
You bit your lower lip and nodded, stars reappearing in your vision. Just seeing you bite your lower lip was enough for him. Jongho snapped his hips into yours with such force that made you cum hard, your walls fluttering as your arousal squirted out. Jongho, meanwhile, also came, his cock twitching as his cum filled the condom.
As you recovered from your high, Jongho pulled out and removed the condom before stroking himself a couple more times, ropes of cum decorating your torso as he finished completely on you, a groan of pleasure and relief rumbling in his chest. Then, wordlessly, he got off the bed and disappeared into his apartment.
You were able to push yourself up by the time Jongho returned with towels and water. He handed you the glass, and you took tiny sips of the water as you watched him wipe you down.
“Tell me something,” he said to you. “Was that as good as your dream?”
Jongho looked up at you as he waited for you to respond. So, you cupped his face and led him towards you to leave a lingering kiss on his lips.
“No, it was better.”
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You thought you would be waking up from another dream, but no. This time, when you woke up, you woke up to see your best friend’s sleeping face right in front of yours, his soft features relaxed and beautiful. He looked so peaceful, so pretty while sleeping that it kind of made you jealous that he could look like fucking Sleeping Beauty.
You shifted slightly, immediately making the sleeping man hug you closer to his bare chest, his soft skin making you shiver slightly. And when you felt his gentle exhale flit past your ear before he buried his nose in your hair, every single nerve in your body tingled happily.
As Jongho continued to sleep, you observed him, your eyes landing on the little freckle on his neck. You absentmindedly traced your nail along it lightly, tickling him and subsequently waking him up.
“Mmm, good morning,” he uttered, his low morning voice echoing in your ear.
You’d had many sleepovers with him in the past, and you’d heard his morning voice many, many times in the past, but having him talk right into your ear like that was too sexy, too stimulating for you that early in the morning, your heart and cunt fluttering.
“Good morning, Jongho,” you whispered back.
Hugging you even closer, Jongho let out a happy exhale before leaving the faintest of kisses on your temple, making your heart skip and making you realize that you were falling for him.
But he didn’t need to know that. Not yet, anyway.
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Could you maybe possibly do a Bucky X single mum reader? Maybe he doesn't know she's a mum thinks she's ghosting him and then bumps into her and said child or something maybe some angst smut fluff the whole shebang
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Bucky was officially done with dating.
He had felt this quite a few times but never had he decided to put an end to dating in the modern day until now. Things had been going great, he didn't even think she would've accepted to go on a date with him yet she did and after that, there wasn't a single moment where he wasn't thinking of her or with her. She was sweet, smart and didn't seem to mind about his past as the Winter Soldier or the metal arm that was blatantly visible to anyone if he took his gloves off. He was finally happy, in a healthy relationship, or at least he thought so.
A week ago things had gone radio silent, there were no texts, he didn't see her at her usual coffee spot and whenever he tried calling, it would go to voice mail time and time again. It had finally hit him that she had just "ghosted" him as Sam called it. Maybe he was right, yet not in the common sense, instead he felt haunted. Haunted by her touch, by her memory and even by the stupid cookies she used to buy. The same stupid cookies he was staring at right now.
      - Can I get these? - a toddler jumped up and down next to him. It was a girl, at least Bucky thought it was a girl based on the high pitched voice. He only looked at the toddler when she pulled on the leg of his trouser, finally forcing him to look at her. - Sir, please can you pass me the cookies?
He shrugged, easily grabbing the box and handing it to the girl who went off running to the legs of a woman, a woman who looked too familiar, a woman who looked almost terrified when she saw Bucky. Honestly, Bucky wasn't even sure who was more terrified if her or him.
      - Bucky. - she said as she walked up to him. - Listen, I ...
      - That's fine. - he interrupted her. - You don't have to say hi to me.
      - No, I just ... I need to explain things.
      - I'd rather avoid the whole "it's not you, it's me" discussion. You know, you could've at least sent me a text instead of ghosting me.
      - Ghosting? No, no, you don't understand. I've been busy and ...
      - For a whole week? Clearly you're not busy enough to be perusing the supermarket.
      - Perusing? I'm just getting groceries, I forgot I couldn't if I didn't text you.
      - Oh so you do know how to text. - Bucky knew he was being mean now but he was hurt. There were may voices in his head which were making him feel like a loser, make him feel like just the Winter Soldier yet he also knew that was no reason to insult her so before he could say something he would regret, he walked away.
Technically, he had now ghosted her as well but she'd done it first so it wasn't as heavy in his mind. At least not as heavy as the idea that the girl he liked so much had suddenly stopped wanting to see him. Many things were going through his mind about what could've caused it, he didn't see another man with her at the store so it potentially wasn't one so his mind was forcing him to face the fact that he was probably the reason. Who would want to date a murderer, the Winter Soldier? No one.
      - Did you bring my milk? - Steve asked as he skimmed through the groceries. - Bucky?
      - I saw Y/N in the shop. - he sat down. - And I was a dick to her. Basically ran off with whatever I had in my cart.
      - Hold on. - Steve said as he sat next to him. - You saw her? What did you say?
      - Stupid shit.
Steve rolled his eyes. Bucky was his best friend, they had known each other since forever and he wasn't against taking his friend's side even if he knew he may be slightly wrong. Yet, in this case, he knew Bucky probably was acting out from hurt and that usually wasn't pretty or nice to hear. It was quite vicious actually, sometimes he forgot how vicious Bucky could be.
      - I don't know what you said but maybe you should apologise.
      - Probably. - he sighed. - Yet again I think she was getting ready to give me a pity speech and I'd rather not listen to it.
      - Do you like this girl? - Bucky stayed silent at this. Of course he liked her, she was all he could think about at night, she was the sun the moon and the stairs for all he cared. But she didn't want him, what else would be the reason for her to suddenly go cold on him. - You've lived for a whole century, Buck. Go talk to her and find out what it is instead of sulking.
(...)
Bucky already regretted this.
As he stood outside her apartment door, he wondered if he was a complete creep. He felt like one, waiting for someone to open the main door so he could get into the building with the sad flowers he'd bought hoping they would convince Y/N not to close the door in his face. Once more, he stared at the golden number on her door before sighing and knocking. He heard quick footsteps before the door knob was slowly twisted and the door opened. The same toddler who he had seen in the market opened the door.
      - Hi! - she said looking at him as if he was her oldest friend.
      - Uh ... Is Y/N here?
      - Meredith, who are you talking you? - he heard Y/N's voice echo through the apartment until she appeared at the door. - Bucky.
      - Hi. - he cleared his throat.
      - Mere, go inside. - Y/N ushered her daughter back inside, closing the door behind her.
Bucky stared at Y/N in both awe and confusion. Who was that toddler? Was it hers? She did look a look like Y/N and he had seen both of them at the supermarket as well. Did Y/N have a kid?
      - She's mine. - Y/N said noticing the doubt on his face. - I had her senior year of college. She's 4.
      - Why ... uh ....
      - She's 4, she doesn't really understand relationships and I don't want to bring anyone into her life that may leave. I also usually struggle to date when I tell guys I have a 4 year old ... I should've told you, I'm sorry.
      - And the ghosting?
      - I wasn't ghosting. - she crossed her arms. - Mere had the chicken pox and I had to stay home with her. I was gonna text you but I thought this ... this would be a better conversation to have in person.
      - Ah ... - he scratched the back of his neck. - I was an asshole at the supermarket, wasn't I?
      - That depends ... are those flowers for me? - she smirked.
      - Yes. - he extended his arm towards her handing her the flowers. Marigolds, her favourite. - They look a bit sad though.
      - They look perfect. - she smiled at him. - Wanna come in?
(...)
Bucky stirred awake in the couch as he heard a soft rustling following by breathing. He peaked his eye open to see Meredith staring at him with wide eyes before she poked his cheek with her finger.
      - Mr. Bucky? Can you make me pancakes?
He could get used to this.
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princessbrunette · 7 months
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i need a longer blurb of jj teaching reader how to smoke 🙏🏻 possible shotgunning
i was hoping someone would ask teehee ♡
suggestive themes down below, mentions of weed etc
jj cringes at himself as he taps the cracked screen of his iphone, hitting play on the spotify playlist titled simply with the leaf emoji — a subtle and yet juvenile nod to it being his smoking playlist. what kind of nerd actually has a playlist made and ready to hit play when hanging out with a pretty girl, he thinks — cheeks a little red under the dim light. his shitty speaker hiccups and splutters before playing the music smoothly, just as he comes to drop down beside you on the comfy old couch.
“anyway, fuck uh— i don’t remember. it doesn’t matter.” he waves a hand, pushing his heels into the ground to lift up his hips so he can pull the rolled J out his back pocket.
“your concentration is terrible.” you tease with a giggle, legs tucked beneath you. he recalls you looking particularly adorable in that moment, and his brain malfunctions for a second as he looks at you before he forces out a response.
“uh… yeah — i got that letter thing.”
“adhd?”
“thats the one.” he presses his fingers tightly around the compact J before patting his front pockets for a lighter. “you smoke?”
it was the first time you’d had the privilege of hanging out with just JJ alone. you were sarah’s friend, and had tagged along with her to a few pogue hangouts when she’d started dating john b. you all seemed to get on well as a group, and you were pretty meek and shy most of the time — which they found pretty endearing, so they kept you around. you were harmless, and brought an oddly charming sense of innocence to their reckless and vulgar world. you’d started harbouring a little crush on JJ since you’d met, all smiles and doe eyes whenever he was up to his usual nonsense. he was loud and untameable, but always made an effort to behave around you. the special attention made you melt.
“JJ you’re yelling.” pope would accuse and the blonde would hold his hands up.
“sorry.” he’d apologise before turning specifically to you. “sorry. those pretty ears. shouldn’t be hearing that.” he waves it off and continues with whatever rant he was on, but your smile doesn’t go away for like 2 minutes.
his effort didn’t go unnoticed by the pogues, and since you weren’t technically a pogue yourself — and it wouldn’t be breaking any pogue rules, john b and sarah specifically had encouraged the two of you to hang out alone, leaving JJ the keys to the chateau. it made total sense to them, john b desperately wanted jj to be happy (and to get some, from a nice girl.) and sarah was enthralled by the idea of double dates based off ideas she’d tucked into a pinterest board. whilst the blonde was infamous for making bad decisions, he wouldn’t let turning down alone time with a pretty girl be another on his extensive track record.
you eye him where he sits beside you on the small cushy couch, shifting a little — springs clinking beneath you suggesting it may have been a pull out bed. “i’ve never… i haven’t done it before.” you shrug, embarrassed. you envied the pogues in that way, whilst you’d been sheltered your whole life up into adulthood, they’d been able to explore themselves and figure out what they like.
his eyes widen a little and his mouth forms a surprised little ‘o’ shape, before nodding quickly and stuffing the J back into his pocket.
“what are you doing?” your brows furrow.
“don’t wanna make you feel weird, if i smoke ‘n stuff.” he waves a hand dismissively and you shake your head with wide eyes, sitting up a little in your seat.
“oh, no i don’t mind! don’t let me stop you.” you smile as reassuringly as you can. he looks at you for a moment, fixing his hat on his head before pausing a little and turning more toward you.
“totally shoot me down if you don’t wanna but…” he pulls the J back out, slowly and cautiously like it’ll scare you if he moves too fast. “you down to learn? heard i’m quite the teacher.” he smirks, but there’s a friendly twinkle behind his eyes that just makes him so approachable and non-intimidating that you feel completely safe.
“m’kay, yeah, i’ve always wanted to know what it feels like.” your voice is soft behind your wide smile and he wants to slap himself for staring at you for so long.
“alright, that’s the spirit.” he mirrors your grin, tossing his lighter in the air and catching it.
“i didn’t know smoking was something that needed to be taught.” you comment, shuffling a little downward so you can lean against the couch more— getting as comfortable as you can in your sweet little sundress. you were sat so close now you could feel his body heat radiating onto you, and it was doing something crazy to your stomach. that, and the way he looked, manspreading casually on the couch, white tee and black sweatpants, frowning in concentration as he presses the joint between his lips, holding a flame to the end of it until it glows and then shaking out the flame.
registering your words, he sends you a little face of mock offence that makes you giggle. he inhales deep and holds the smoke in his lungs, voice strained when he responds. “nah, this shit is an art form. ‘course it can be taught.” exhale. you find you’re holding your breath too.
“yeah this’ll be good for your first time, asked my guy for somethin’ weaker cos’ i didn’t want you to think i was bein’ a weirdo or whatever, smoking you out with the strong stuff so i can be creepy. i know some guys do that.” he rambles before taking another shorter toke, brows creased as he concentrates on his mini review.
“you bought weed especially for hanging out with me?” you smile kindly and he gapes for a millisecond, holding the J between his fingers and he blinks, caught out.
“yeah.” he shrugs. “s’like buying you flowers. but better.” he shuffles closer to you on the seat. before you have time to overthink the flowers comment, he’s carefully holding the joint to your lips, his own eyes wide and already a little glossy.
“i’m nervous.” you giggle, briefly holding his hovering wrist to stabilise you both.
“hey, you’re in good hands i swear, i’ll look after you.” he promises, free hand cupping your cheek with a teasing but far from unkind expression. “you’re my little baby tonight.” it was made to be a joke but your stomach does a little somersault.
“‘kay.” your lips brush the tip of the J and he has to force himself not to think something inappropriate.
“what i want you to do is breathe in and then hold it, ‘kay?” he instructs and you do so, eyes looking to him for guidance. it burns and tickles your throat at the same time but it’s not awful, you don’t even cough. maybe this is rare, because he grins when you squint— holding it in your chest. “atta girl! see, you’re born for this. breathe out for me.” his voice is closer, and therefore quieter, more intimate. you’re a lightweight by nature, so by your second toke the delay starts to unwind and you start feeling a buzz.
sativa by jhené aiko starts to play through the cheap speaker by the time you’re really feeling it. he’s talking to you the whole time, talking you through it, praising you. your whole body feels hot and you revel in the euphoria of feeling so safe and comfortable in someone’s presence. you lean against his shoulder a little, giggling over a little anecdote he told you about his day with pope.
he’s grinning with pretty pink eyes, turning to look down at you, really look at you close up. his heart stammers because you’re so damn beautiful and he nearly chokes on smoke. that would have been embarrassing.
“you’re cute.” he lifts his cap for a second, running a hand through his hair and you tilt your head, joint still clasped between your fingers.
“really?”
“totally. i’d complain about anyone else getting lipgloss on the joint, but you’re cute so you’re allowed.” he jokes and you’re off again, leaning more into him as you chortle. his arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you closer until your head rests against him. he looks down at you, a warm smile bordering on chuckle spreading across his face at the way you’re gazing up at him like he hung the moon and stars for you. “y’wanna learn something else?” he offers and you’re slow, but eager— eyes widening hazily and nodding clumsily.
“alright. y’trust me, yeah?” he adjusts his position a little.
“mhm, yeah i do JJ.” you’re all dazed and openly crushing. he seems pretty into it and you’re glad, because someone a little meaner might find it pathetic.
he takes your hand holding the joint and brings your fingers that clasp it to his lips, where he then takes a hit. his palms encase your jaw, pulling your face to his. he pulls ever so slightly, so your mouth gapes before he’s breathing the smoke slowly into your mouth. your heart hammers, and your hands are frozen but you get the hint and inhale, feeling the second hand burn. you open your eyes, not remembering having closed them and he’s staring at you— and you don’t get the chance to pull away because he’s closing the gap again and pressing his lips fully to yours.
you let out a quiet moan at the surprise, the sound from your throat a lot more vulgar than intended and he pulls back after a moment, eyes flickering between yours.
“sorry.”
“dont be. i wanna do it again. can we?”
“the smoking thing or the…” he trails off as you lean in slowly, a curious and sweet expression tainted with a glossy haze of intoxication and lust. you’d never been like this before with anyone, hell— you’d never felt like this.
you press your lips to his, kissing him simply before pulling back. your brows pinch together and be bites back a smile, thumbing at your cheekbone.
“wh’sthe matter?” he whispers.
“there’s more you need to teach me.” you bat your eyelashes at him and he feels himself wake up from the waist down, subtly adjusting himself.
“well we got all night.” he teases before leaning in, this time his mouth taking the lead. the joint is put out and forgotten about as he presses an open mouthed kiss to your swollen lips. “didn’t i say i was a good teacher?”
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