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#i got on to write something else and here we are lol
talesofhawkins · 25 days
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I would like for you to envision something adorable with me, okay? Let's go on the journey together.
Let's say you are a customer of Eddie's, right? The first note he received in his locker from you was a few weeks into senior year — your first, his third. The first dealings of many between the two of you, as time goes by the deals become more frequent, last a bit longer.
A friendship blooming, growing into something exquisite — but the never ending interactions only happen in the forms of deals. Never a date, or a phone call.
Stealing glances, inches apart — never to touch, never to taste. Not for a moment, no none at all. The spark extinguished.
A night out with friends at the annual fun fair — hands in your jacket, lips turned up in a small smile, listening to your friend ramble about her newest crush as you wait your turn to ride the ferris wheel.
You didn't feel the gaze of loving, auburn eyes admiring you from a far. Eddie clocked you in the ticket line — a few groups behind you, he fought the urge to run up to you. To merge groups, ultimately leading to the two of you going off by yourselves.
Alas the scared, little boy inside kept him at bay — fills him up with insecurity and hesitation, settling for glimpse of you.
He keeps an eye out for you, listening for your voice or laugh.
He watches from the booth — Jeff and Gareth battling it out at balloon darts, trying to see who could pop the most. His heart thumps, faster and harder against his ribs cage as if trying to escape, trying to get to you.
His heart wanted nothing more than to burst from his chest, run towards you, mesh into your own heart, returning to its rightful place.
Eddie couldn't fucking take it anymore — it was time for him to go home.
He walks up behind you — quietly, a smirk on his lips. His callous palms cover your eyes, body melding with yours as his chin rest on your shoulder.
He's about to whisper in your ear, only for you to speak first. "Eddie?" You ask, baffling him. You whirl around to face him, smile crinkling your sparkling eyes. "You're here!"
His smile mirrors yours, hands finding refuge in the back pocket of his ripped jeans, shoulder shrugging as his feet sway. "Yeah, came with the guys."
"Think they mind if I steal you for a ride on the ferris wheel?"
He doesn't bother looking back towards his friends, waving them off as he mumbles about them under his breath. "Lady's first." He gestures, holding out his hand to help you into the ride. It goes around once, twice, stopping at the top on the third go. You slide closer to Eddie, admitting your fear of heights.
"I got you, sweetheart."
He slings his arm around you, pulling you into his side as close as possible. You nuzzle into him, looking up at him — gaze stuck on his lips, soft and plush.
Tempting. Oh, so tempting. And, to put simply, you just couldn't resist any longer. You lean in, hoping he'd get the hint. Boy did he, smashing his lips to yours.
He pulled away once out of breath — forehead smushed against yours, nose nestled with yours, matching smiles as his thump caresses your cheek. The spark blossoms, igniting into a wildfire. Another kiss, parting at the jerk of motion as the ride starts to descend. "Win me a teddy bear, Eds?
"If my girl wants a teddy bear, she gets a teddy bear."
And he most certainly does win you that teddy bear — after the fifth attempt, at least.
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aeide-thea · 11 months
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an impulse i don't get—
or rather, so as not to be disingenuous, an impulse i get perfectly well but strongly dislike when i'm faced with it, which means i need to reexamine it in myself when i generate it—
is the impulse to sit in judgment about What Counts As Queer. like. yeah, okay, i do get it really, we're all disempowered by hegemonic culture and setting ourselves up as petty kings shores up our egos! but if there's anything i've loved about discovering queerness in and for myself, it's been the realization that there were worldviews beyond my own—and that there still are, almost certainly! that the world is a firework show of exploding possibility, and that i and my current understanding of myself and everyone else are just one bright spark in a whole connected series of them, and that more will come after me, bringing new colors and configurations to my field of vision, if i just keep my eyes open…
and so i just always feel. god. how close-minded, to shut your eyes to someone else's vision of queerness, to say not just 'that isn't a version of queerness that i recognize or feel represented by,' but to say categorically, 'that isn't queer'! if someone's saying in all sincerity, 'this feels alien to the framework i grew up with, and exciting or comforting or both to me'—i want to hear them out, and make space in my own understanding for a multiplicity of queernesses. i'm not always perfect at it! but i want to.
because what's the alternative? join with the biphobes and transphobes who would've said my gq4gq relationship with my transfem ex was really just straight, or at least enough of a union of opposites for government work? join with the aphobes and arophobes who are constantly insinuating that if you're not actively sucking or fucking, you're a square—never mind those of us who are isolated, or traumatized, or anxious, or any of the thousand other reasons why our queerness might not be siting itself in sex or romance, right now or ever! join with the people who sneer at poly and flinch from kink, as if reexamining those relational conventions were somehow cleanly separable from reexamining all the other ones—as if we should want it to be?
anyway, this is about a lot of things, really, and at least one of them i pretty actively don't want to talk about in specific; but i just think, god, i wish we could all learn a little more generosity, and a little more humility. we know the world, and the human heart, encompass more than is dreamt of in kyriarchal philosophy; why then are we so resistant to the idea that they might also encompass more than is dreamt of in our own? movement after movement of queers have come, and built, and been built upon in turn; our personal convictions are not, i feel certain, the final course to be laid down on the great work of enlightenment and liberation—and how depressing it would be, if they were!
#there's an invisible Works Referenced here that includes a post i keep not reblogging bc it's too aggro#but it's about like. there's no single masculinity or femininity#similarly i think. there's no single queerness‚ because there's no single straightness; it's a complex construction—constriction—#and so our resistance to it must necessarily be equally complex‚ to meet it where it crops up and set it aflame#and so like. just because something isn't your queerness‚ or mine‚ doesn't mean it can't be someone else's!#there's something else i was thinking of‚ too‚ but i forgot it already‚ lol#this isn't the like. clearly-structured post i wanted to write‚ i got mad and florid instead#and i expect i've left out some of what i meant#but like. sometimes you—i—have to just run with that‚ or else express nothing at all…#anyway i just think like. yeah‚ models of maybe-queerness we see in the world might wound us‚ or anyway look as though they might!#it's a possibility!#but what's not a possibility‚ but a certainty‚ is that the rhetoric i've seen used to *dismiss* various representations#as Not Queer Enough#has for SURE wounded me! and almost certainly wounded others who've just curled up silently and said nothing about it!#anyway. idk. 'NOT HET BUT HETERODOX‚' proclaims my protest sign#is this coherent without specifying all its context? maybe not. but the fundamental stance isn't contextual for me—#it's something i think is important to uphold‚ and where i fail at it (which i do!)‚ to give myself a good hard squint#and work out how to realign my reactions with the principles i actually want guiding them#anyway. good morning‚ lmao. have a diatribe
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godhasforsnakenme · 3 months
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BOOK REVIEW 📖
Last year I kept track of the series & films I watched; this year I've decided to keep track of whatever books I read! So this one is for the month of January – I'll share these sometime after the month is over, or if I read more than one book during the month, I will do their reviews as soon as I finish the book :)
#ben picks up reading again#dania rambles about shit#should note that this is not spoiler free (don't give much context but still)#i would read it again just to catch all the parallels and symbolism#chose to read this on libby bc of the option to highlight and keep notes in one spot bc jfc I would've annotated tf out of a physical copy#doing this completely from my phone and made my own little template because I couldn't find any good ones for free#what else ummmm oh right this is like a basic answer/question and I ramble off topic but still within some type of margin#read that fanfic I recommend really since I feel like it's better written aka maybe I just like it more bc it has a happy ending#and it includes all the same problems that the characters of the original book went through (for the most part)#anyway 4/5 stars and not 5 bc like I got tired of clare's pov bc it felt like there was no different between#the varying ages we get once we reach her at like 12 and up#henry also affected this bc like he's likable but so stupid and shouldve studied paradoxes or something to solve his problems#again rambling it needs a fix it but blah blah not really their suffering is a main point of the book :)#yeah so structured like a traditional one but I focus on not so traditional aspects bc I have a way of analyzing things#as if I have an essay to write on it lmaooooo#these are handwritten bc I like to keep track in case it worsens due to my cubital tunnel affected wrist#(im a righty; lefty on the other hand has carpal tunnel but that only affects when I do hand on projects like pottery or painting)#I'm giving free trivia/lore about myself here lol
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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months
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light of the morning
in which spencer sneaks into bau!reader's hotel room and they share a little more than just the bed
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom!spence x sub reader, munch!spence, unprotected piv sex (dont do that), creampie (hate that word btw) praise, mentions of having to be quiet because morgan is right next door LOL, fluffy, established co-workers/friends with benefits, soooo idiots in love a/n: here is the promised smut. i am literally kicking my feet and twirling my hair and giggling and blushing at my own writing. I'm gonna have a freak out. requests are open like my legs
It’s late when the knock finally comes. Late enough that you’re dozing on the bed above the covers. 
It takes you a moment to reorient yourself—you’re rubbing your heavy eyes when you finally get the door. 
"Hi."
"Hey," says Spencer, hands awkwardly shoved into his pajama pants pockets. It’s funny, really. He never gets any better at this. 
You step aside and he enters the room, looking around as you close and relock the door. 
"Did I wake you?"
"How could you tell?"
"You’re in pajamas. And you look tired. I mean—you don’t look bad. You never look bad, I just meant… you don’t look tired but you’re not—I didn’t mean to—"
"Relax," you yawn, putting him out of his misery. "I was joking. I know I look tired." You glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. "It’s late. We have to be up early tomorrow."
"Yeah, I got, uh, sidetracked. Sorry."
He was reading. If it was anyone else, you'd be offended--but a sinkhole could open up under Spencer's feet and he probably wouldn't notice if he was absorbed in a book.
You shrug, a knowing smile lifting the corner of your mouth. 
"It’s fine. But I don’t know if tonight is a good night. I really am exhausted."
His eyebrows dart up. 
"That’s fine. That’s totally fine. I’ll just, uh—"
When you don’t move from in front of the door, he pauses, unsure. You bite the inside of your cheek, studying his rangy frame and choice of clothing. Blue pajama pants, slippers, grey CalTech zip up hoodie. It feels wrong to describe a 6'1 man as adorable, but that’s how he looks in his sleep clothes. There’s a very real chance, you find yourself thinking, that you are the only member of the BAU to ever see him in something other than slacks and a button-down. He looks so cozy that you kind of really want him in your bed even if he’s not doing anything but sleeping. The invitation slips out before you can think too hard about it. 
"You could… stay, anyway, if you want?"
His mouth parts slightly, and those eyebrows raise again. There’s a moment of awkward silence and you are very much beginning to regret your offer, wondering if you somehow violated the sanctity of your co-workers/friends with benefits situtationship. Clumsily you try to backtrack. 
"Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, you can—"
"No, no! You didn’t, I just don’t want you to feel obligated to invite me to stay in your room. I’m right across the hall, I can go back if you want me to."
You smile awkwardly, silent relief replacing the brief anxiety. 
"It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before." And not like you wouldn’t have ended up doing it tonight anyway, if things had gone as originally intended.
He chuckles, looking to the floor and nodding. The blush on his face does not go unnoticed by you. "Fair enough."
It’s incredibly endearing how nervous he still gets after six months of this little arrangement. 
"Do you wanna get your stuff, or…"
"No, that’s okay. I’ll just go back early tomorrow. The chances of someone seeing me leave your room are significantly higher if I do it so soon after entering."
You squint, unable to tell if he’s fucking with you or if that’s an actual statistically sound probability. And then you realize, blissfully, that you don’t really care. 
"Okay, well. Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to brush my teeth."
Once you’re enclosed in the bathroom, hotel vanity lights blinding you as you brush, you find that there is a jittery sort of apprehension buzzing in your chest. But that’s silly. As you yourself pointed out, the two of you have shared a bed many times over the past few months. But the sleeping together is always a byproduct of the sleeping together. Never have you shared a bed in a completely decent, virtuous, strictly non-sexual manner. It’s always been a matter of convenience—less bother if he doesn’t have to worry about sneaking back into his room in the middle of the night when you’re both exhausted. Or maybe that’s just what you’ve been telling yourselves. 
You rinse your mouth out and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and finding that Spencer has indeed made himself comfortable. The hotel room is dark and he’s already under the covers, fiddling with his phone. 
"What time should I set the alarm for?" He asks, looking over at you as you crawl into bed, drawing the covers over yourself. "I was thinking 6:23. That should give me enough time to—"
"Sounds perfect," you affirm, wiggling under the blanket as you get comfortable. He schedules the alarm and sets his phone on the bedside table, dousing the room in complete darkness. Your eyes stay open despite, waiting for them to adjust. A few moments of utter silence and stillness pass, and you can tell Spencer is completely stiff next to you. 
"Spencer."
“Yeah,” he answers immediately. Like he’s even more wired about this whole situation than you are. 
"You know you don’t have to avoid touching me at all costs, right? I’m not a leper."
He looses a nervous laugh. 
"I know. We’ve just never really done this."
You frown at the darkness.
"We’ve definitely slept in the same bed before."
"Yeah, but… this feels different."
That, you can’t argue with. Can friends with benefits share a bed just to be near each other? Does that blur some line? And why does it feel more intimate than the sex? 
Screw it. If there is one thing you don’t want your relationship with Spencer to be, it is uncomfortable. Uncertain, you can work with. But not uncomfortable. You reach for him, hand sliding under the duvet—and find his hand already waiting for yours. 
"I don’t think it’s that different," you lie, interlacing your fingers together slowly. 
"Prolonged physical non-sexual contact does have measurable health benefits…" the words are murmured, like the moment is fragile and he doesn’t want to shatter it. 
"Can’t argue with the facts," you breathe, trying to modulate the shakiness of your voice. But you have a feeling you’re doing about as good of a job at concealing your nerves as he is. He shifts.
"Can I…"
"Yeah."
Your heart is pounding as he slips one arm under your neck and the other around your waist, pulling you close. Instinctually you curl into him, slinging your top leg over him as you’ve done before, but always dismissed as post-sex brain chemicals making you feel all warm and fuzzy. A neurological reaction that is so solidly scientific, neither of you ever questioned it. But it feels bigger now. 
He exhales as you settle against each other—a sound of relief that mirrors your own. He’s so warm, so safe as he envelops you, physically and sensorially. In such close proximity, so clear-headed, you notice each layer of his scent. Toothpaste, lavender, vetiver, detergent. You sort of feel like a creep, but you can’t deny how comforting it is. Nor can you deny the pirouette your heart does when he begins minutely rubbing your back, like he’s not even thinking about it. 
"Goodnight," you whisper into his shirt. 
"Goodnight," he whispers back. 
You fall asleep pretty quickly after that. 
------------------------------
It’s unclear what wakes you up—maybe it’s the blue-grey dawn light filtering in through the filthy window (doubtful, it’s still mostly dark) or maybe it’s the blinking green digital clock on the nightstand. 5:02 AM. Your alarm will go off in an hour and 21 minutes.
Sometime in the night you shifted, turning over in your sleep, but Spencer is still holding you close. The arm slung so casually over your waist is slightly domineering, but you manage to rotate again and face him once more. Mere inches away from his face you can see every detail. His expression is so peaceful, it makes your heart ache. 
But you’re just friends. 
Perhaps he felt you moving, because his eyes flutter open and you watch as they flood with consciousness. He takes you in, takes in his arm over your waist. For a split second you’re nervous he’ll pull away. 
"What time is it?" His voice is scratchy with sleep. 
"Five."
"Why are you awake? We have over an hour til the alarm goes off."
"Sometimes waking up early is okay."
His eyes flicker between your own, and momentarily you’re paralyzed as you realize this is a limbo state for the two of you in which you’ve never operated. You don’t know what’s acceptable. You don’t know what to do. Being close to him feels so good, that the idea of separating hurts. But you don’t want to make him uncomfortable, or—
He leans forward and kisses you softly. In the blue light of dawn, rather than frenzied and hidden in the dark, a desperate tear of clothes and teeth and hands—it’s almost freeing. All the anxiety you were feeling just seconds ago begins to melt. 
Friends. 
"You looked anxious," is his whispered answer after he pulls away a moment later, like a kiss is the simplest remedy in the world. He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. "We should go back to sleep."
"I don’t want to go back to sleep."
The corner of his mouth twitches as he studies you.  
"No? What do you want?"
Emboldened by your mutual indiscretion, it’s your turn to kiss him. You feel him smile against your lips, hand finding the back of your neck and raking up through your hair to pull you closer. 
The delirium of sleep seems to have softened you, filed down the rough edges of your boundaries and kicked away the lines in the sand. What’s a kiss or two when you’ve just woken up? A small, innocuous display of affection while you’re still barely conscious. Nobody could fault either of you for that. People don’t think clearly when they’ve just been asleep.
So what if your lips part against his, and his other hand finds its way under your shirt to stroke the bare skin of your waist and hips? So what if you hitch that leg over him again and press closer?
Spencer breaks the kiss, still ghosting over your lips. 
"I thought it wasn’t a good night?"
"It’s not night time anymore, is it, genius?"
You sneak another kiss, nipping his bottom lip gently as you pull away. 
Instead of whatever array of responses you were expecting, Spencer smiles slightly, eyes almost sparkling in the faint light. The hand on your hip moves to your face, gently thumbing across your cheek. He begins to say something, and stops himself—biting his lip to hold back the words. 
"What?" you ask, heart dropping. Illusion fracturing. 
"I was just—" he begins, pausing for a moment before the words all come out in a rush. "I was just going to tell you how beautiful you are, but I don’t know if that’s something I should say, or if it would feel too… I don’t know…"
He trails off. A rare instance in which he doesn’t have the words. 
You do. Intimate. Real. Romantic. And he’s right, it does feel too much like all of those things. But that doesn’t mean you don’t like it, perhaps more than is strictly good for you. 
"It’s fine. Thank you."
He continues chewing on his lip for a moment. 
"Did I just ruin the mood?"
"No," you laugh, "not at all."
"Thank god," he sighs, surging forward again. 
"Since when do you thank god?" You manage between kisses. 
He moves to press his lips to your jaw and down your neck. 
"Do you want me to talk about the historical and cultural transition of religious expressions into ubiquitous secular colloquialisms right now?"
"Kind of," you breathe.
"No you don’t," he murmurs against your neck as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "You want me to take your clothes off."
Well, he’s not wrong there. 
You help him tug the shirt over your head before leaning back into the pillows as he situates himself over you and lavishes more kisses down your neck and collarbones, pausing to suck a mark only when he knows it’s low enough to be covered by your clothing later. 
You gasp when his lips brush over your nipple, before running his tongue over the sensitive skin. He glances up at you, and though his mouth is occupied, you can see the humor in his eyes. He loves how sensitive you are—how easy it is to get a reaction out of you. 
Of course, you continue to prove him right when he takes the other into his mouth, trying to hold back your little whimpers as he darts his tongue over the peak. Maybe somebody else wouldn’t hear them, but Spencer does. He’s hyper attuned to the sounds you make. Something of a catalogue has begun to form in the back of his mind; he knows exactly what each noise means and how to get them out of you. 
Once satisfied, he moves to press a kiss to your sternum. 
"You’re gonna be quiet for me, right?" Another kiss above your bellybutton. "Because Morgan is sleeping right on the other side of that wall, and we don’t want to wake him up."
"I’ll be quiet," you promise, somewhat breathlessly. Spencer’s mouth trails lower until he’s pulling your shorts down your legs, leaving you completely naked. He tosses them somewhere on the floor and hooks your legs over his shoulders. 
"Good." He plants one last kiss to your thigh and the next one lands right between your legs. 
You regret the need to be silent almost as soon as he drags his tongue over your clit. It’s not like the two of you have ever had the privilege of making a lot of noise, as the hotel rooms are always so close to each other, but it doesn’t make it any easier. 
Instead you opt to rake your hands through his hair and try to take deep breaths. But he knows exactly what you like—he knows starting light and slow, teasing around your most sensitive spot will work you up to the brink of insanity, just like he knows gentle circles make your back arch and elicit the prettiest little moans. 
"More," you beg, and the hands wrapped around your thighs rub soothingly, reassuring you that if you can just be patient you’ll get what you want. 
He takes your aching clit into his mouth, sucking lightly and you’re forced to clap a hand over your mouth, muffling the sob of pleasure you can’t hold back. Spencer keeps it up until you’re practically riding his face, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his tongue when you get too close. 
"Fuck, please, Spence," you whisper through your fingers, hips rutting in your desperation. Somehow it always ends up like this—with him in charge and you begging. Not that you have a problem with it, of course. 
He hums into you, and if the way his tongue moves back to circling your clit with newfound fervor is any indication, is apparently satisfied with your entreaty. 
You gasp and try to control your breathy moans, but his mouth feels so good on you that your vision is going out and you’re losing touch with reality ever so slightly. You use the last of your brain power to bite down on the back of your wrist, hoping it adequately muffles the noises you make as you come on Spencer’s tongue and he greedily continues lapping at you. There’s really no way of knowing—your ears are ringing anyway. 
When you come to a moment later he’s peppering kisses on your thighs, rubbing your hips gently. 
"So pretty," he murmurs, climbing back up so your lips can meet again. "Everything about you is pretty."
You paw at his shirt, signaling that you want it off as you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue, feel your slippery arousal staining the kiss. Spencer helps you, sitting up briefly to unzip his hoodie and pull off his shirt. 
You’re the one to drag him back down, and you notice that he pulls the covers back over the both of you in a sweet gesture he probably didn’t even think about. 
"Need you to fuck me," you beg, reaching down to try and undress him further. 
"So crude. What happened to my nice, sweet girl?" He mumbles against your neck, but helps you with his pants anyway. 
"You must have me confused with someone else."
"Doubtful."
You don’t have much time to consider what that could mean before he’s running the head of his cock over your clit and you’re gasping into his mouth, saying please like it’s the only word you know. 
"There she is," Spencer croons, slipping inside you slow enough for you to feel every inch but quick enough for it to expel all the air from your lungs. Once he’s opened you all the way up, impossibly deep and close, you’re seeing stars, barely breathing. His head has dropped to your shoulder but now he drags his lips up your neck and jaw. "We okay?"
It’s been a while, you realize, since that last case in Maine. He always takes some getting used to. Hardly able to think around the pressure of his cock you nod, trying to string together a few words. 
"Fuck, I need a second." The words come out choked, but you manage. Spencer rubs your hip, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. 
"Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you."
He curses to himself, dropping his head momentarily. You’re so fucking soft, and warm, and perfect, he can’t think straight. But he has to try because he has to take care of you. 
"Spence," you gasp, failing to verbally communicate the intensity of the physical sensation. 
"I know, baby," comes his sympathetic coo. "You know you can take me. Deep breaths."
"Mhm," you squeak, trying to take follow his directions and soften your muscles. Spencer keeps rubbing soothingly over your hips, stomach, whatever he can get his hands on, really, pressing kisses all over your face and telling you how good you are, how perfect you feel for him. After a few moments he feels you fluttering around him and experimentally pulls out halfway, before pushing back in equally as slowly. Your jaw drops as he begins to leisurely fuck you, arms wrapping around his back. He gets deeper than you expect every time, rubbing you raw and stretching you out in the most delicious way. 
"Perfect, baby. Such a good listener, did exactly what I asked."
You cry out when he begins fucking you impossibly deeper, but still so slow and sweet.
"You feel so fucking good for me," he groans. "This is what you were made for, huh?" You agree enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut. 
"Only for you."
Just three words—but he wasn’t expecting to like hearing you say that as much as he does. A strong desire to possess you overtakes him—one that he’ll probably have the decency to feel guilty about later, but for now feels fucking fantastic and intoxicating. 
"Only me?"
You moan an affirmation. 
"Good. I don’t want anyone else fucking you, do you understand me?"
"Yes!"
"I’m the only one who gets to touch you," he breathes, speeding up ever so slightly, "nobody else is going to feel you like this. Such a good girl, spreading her legs for me at five in the fucking morning. You’re not doing this for anybody else, baby."
"Uh-uh, please, pleasepleaseplease Spence—"
He knows what you need, reaching a hand down between your bodies to rub your clit. 
You gasp an airy, high pitched curse, hips twitching but unable to escape the near-punishing rhythm of his own. It’s obvious that your orgasm is close, but you can’t even warn him, too overwhelmed with pleasure. He kisses you, swallowing your moans that have probably become just a bit too loud given the whole hotel thing. 
No words are exchanged between the two of you as you near the finish line for a change, open mouths slipping against each others in what is too messy to be called a kiss. Your orgasm body-slams you, a choked silent scream as you tighten around Spencer and he seems to come at nearly the exact same moment—deep inside you, slowly rolling his hips in a few more strong thrusts as he finishes. 
You let out a delayed moan at the sensation of being filled up, still pulsing around him as he comes to a halt, buried inside of you. He drops his head to your neck, and you can feel each breath against your flushed skin. Other than the panting, you’re both silent for a while. Spencer seems to gather himself sooner than you do, finally breaking the quiet. 
"You okay?"
All you can manage is a little squeak, at which he looses a breathy chuckle. His hand slides to your hip, gently stroking the skin with a thumb. 
"Need your words, angel girl."
"I’m okay," you coo into his shoulder, but he has to strain to hear it above his own breathing. 
"Yeah? Why so quiet?"
But it seems that at least for the moment, he’s gotten all the words he can out of you. When he tries to move, you whimper indignantly, clutching onto him tighter. 
"I really did a number on you this time, huh?" He laughs when you nod into him. "Are you falling asleep?"
"Mhm," you hum dreamily, little puffs of warm air slowing against his neck. 
"You can have…" he cranes his head to check the digital clock, "48 minutes."
"An hour."
He settles his weight on you once more, pressing a chaste kiss to your throat. His voice is low and gentle as he admonishes you. 
"I said 48 minutes."
But it doesn’t matter—you’re already asleep, or close enough to it. Spencer takes the opportunity to shift you to your side, and the way you wrap around him like a vine even unconsciously makes his heart ache. He really should go now—the earlier he gets out of your room the less likely certain complications will arise—but how can he possibly leave you like this? A vulnerable, dreamy girl with tangled hair haloing around her on the pillow case, clinging to him with blind trust that he’ll watch over her as she sleeps? No—there’s no way he’s leaving yet. Instead, he brings you closer. 48 perfect minutes will go by far too quickly, he’s sure. 
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jaeyunverse · 1 year
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the perks of having a hot best friend
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pairing: lee jeno x fem!reader
genres: fluff, crack, mild angst, best friends to lovers, college au
wc: 14336
warnings: profanity, sexual jokes, jeno is shirtless in a scene phew, too many idol features SORRY i lowk lost track of who i’ve included. i think that is all but lmk if you find something else!
summary: having a hot best friend is nice until you start getting butterflies in your stomach every single time you look at them.
note: JAEYUNVERSE COMEBACK WOOO i’ve missed writing long fics so much omfg but i’m shitting bricks as we speak LOL it’s been a while since i’ve posted something big and i won’t lie i’m hella nervous. i rlly hope you guys enjoy this fic ♡ please don’t hesitate to give me your feedback! here’s to hoping my writing skills haven’t become as rusty as i think i have hehe :’))
masterlist
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𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐊𝐒 !
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01. an abundance of freebies and discounts
Lee Jeno knew the power his smile held. 
All it took was one flirty laugh combined with those sleepy eyes of his for people to melt. Being the resourceful person you were, you utilised that talent of his to its full extent. 
“Can you go and flirt with the cashier so she gives us a free muffin?” 
Your best friend gave you a dirty look. “You do realise this is supposed to be your treat, right?” 
“I am paying!” you exclaimed. “Just go do your thing and make her feel generous enough to slip a free dessert in our order.” 
Jeno rolled his eyes, but you knew you’d won. You almost always did. “Fine, whatever. You owe me one though.” 
“I’m feeding you because I owe you one,” you pointed out. “This makes us equal.”
“How riveting. I have to work so the person who owes me doesn’t have to owe me anymore.” 
“We can argue about this for hours or you can haul ass to the counter and place the damn order. I’ll Venmo you the money the moment you’re back,” you promised. 
Sliding out of the booth, Jeno said, “You’re lucky you’re cute. If this were Jaemin, I wouldn’t be letting him off the hook easily.”
You stuck your tongue out at him and shooed him away. Narrowing his eyes, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you along. 
“Hey!” you cried. “Don’t take me with you! The flirting won’t have any effect on her if she thinks we’re together!” 
“Everyone thinks we’re together,” Jeno muttered and got in line behind an old man. “She checked me out when we entered the cafe, saw you arm-in-arm with me and gave you the dirtiest look to ever exist.” 
You snorted. “Liar. You might be an eye candy but you do not command such a high level of attention.”   
“I’m telling the truth!” he argued. “I would know because I was checking out the drink she placed on the counter. I was trying to figure out what the person’s order might have been to get something so incredibly delicious-looking. I saw her out of the corner of my eye.” 
“Oh.” You frowned and took a step forward when the line moved ahead. “That’s unfortunate. Should we go to another cafe and try our hand at getting something free there?” 
“How about you stop being such a cheap skate for once?”
Slapping his shoulder hard, you grumbled, “I have to bear the weight of my goddamn rent alone while you share yours with three others! I need to cut down on certain things, asshole.” 
“My offer to move in with you next semester still stands.” Jeno wiggled his eyebrows. “I’m a really good housemate; ask the others.” 
“You live with boys. The disgusting things you do don’t bother them because they do them too.” 
He closed his mouth and thought about it for a second. Then, “Touché.” 
You rolled your eyes, but before you could make another snarky comment, a pleasant voice interrupted, “Good morning. What can I get for you today?” 
Jeno averted his gaze to the girl standing behind the counter and let a lazy smile take form on his lips. You raised a brow and watched in amusement. 
“Hey there. Can I get a Strawberries & Crème Frappuccino with 1 pump caramel syrup, 1 pump hazelnut syrup, and 1 pump toffee-nut syrup? Java chips too, please.” 
The girl—Lia, according to her name tag—looked surprised to see him blatantly flirting with you right beside him. Maybe he was right about every stranger assuming the two of you to be together, though you couldn’t fathom why. “O—okay.”
“What do you want, friend?” Jeno stressed the last word. Refraining to roll your eyes a second time, you said, 
“Iced coffee without milk. Could you add some sugar to the brew? I prefer my drinks to be sweet.” 
“Of course,” she said and nodded once, unfazed even after learning of Jeno’s status as an eligible bachelor. 
Snorting under your breath, you whispered to him, “Lia doesn’t give a fuck. You’re lacking.” 
He scoffed and nudged you away. “No, I’m not,” he whisper-snapped. “Get out of here. You’re killing my vibe.” 
You deadpanned and gave him a don’t-bullshit-me look but retreated to your booth nonetheless. The last thing you heard Lia ask was: “Anything else?” 
You’d only been sitting and scrolling through your phone for a few minutes before a hand slapped a receipt on the table in front of you. 
Glancing up, you inquired, “What?” 
“Read the order.” 
Dropping your gaze to the piece of paper again, you picked it up. An appreciative frown tugged at your lips as Jeno slid into his seat. “You managed to get us a free muffin and a free bagel?”
“Don’t ever question my talents again,” he ordered and leaned back. Resting his arm on the cushion behind him and placing his ankle on his knee, his attitude was nothing short of a king’s. “I won’t tolerate any further slander.” 
“Uh-huh,” you muttered, utterly unimpressed. Though you admit, a smile threatened to break out on your face and you had to bite your lip to keep it from escaping. 
Jeno raised an eyebrow, as if waiting for something. All you did was stare at him, and when he realised you wouldn’t budge, he did an extremely horrible and high-pitched imitation of you that should have deserved jail. “Thank you sooooooo much, Jeno! If it weren’t for your flirting skills, I wouldn’t have anything to eat. You’re my one and only saviour, and I don’t know what I would have done without—”
“Order for Jeno!” Lia hollered. 
Said-boy flinched and clutched his heart with his hand. “What the… That was quick.” Clearing his throat, he turned his attention back to you, the tips of his ears red and his face flushed. “Whatever. I’ll be right back. Venmo me the bill amount.” 
You snickered and watched him get up. However, before he could move out of earshot, you called his name. “Thank you for your service.” 
Jeno glanced at you over his shoulder and did nothing but observe you for a moment. Then, a lopsided grin took form on his lips and he mock saluted. 
“You’re welcome.” 
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02. gives good boy advice
“What are you doing here?” 
Pushing past you, Jeno strolled into your living room and plopped down on your sofa. “Is that any way to greet your best friend?” 
You rolled your eyes and closed the front door. Sitting down beside him, you placed your laptop on your lap again and resumed going through your notes. “I’m being serious. Were we supposed to hang out today? Because I cannot. I still have three finals left.” 
“No, we didn’t have any plans today,” he said, peering over your shoulder to check what subject you were studying. It was Economics. Horrible memories from the previous semester resurfaced and he shuddered before continuing, “Your text said you wanted to talk about something important?” 
You paused and glanced at him. “So you came over?” 
“Do you want me to leave?” Jeno frowned. “I thought it would be better to talk in person.”
He stood up and dusted himself off. Eyes widening, you grabbed his wrist and forced him back to his original position. “That’s not what I meant! I do want to talk to you but—it’s weird. I don’t feel like dealing with whatever has happened right now and I’m getting second thoughts about asking you for advice.” 
Concern seeped into Jeno’s face. “Woah, are you okay? You don’t have to explain anything right now. Just tell me one thing: do I need to beat anyone up? I’ve got a few gym buddies who are ripped.”
You huffed a laugh and placed your laptop on the coffee table. Crossing your legs, you turned to face him. Upon watching you get comfortable, your best friend rolled his shoulders back and did the same thing. 
“Before I say anything, I need you to promise me that you won’t laugh. Or make fun of me. Or call me an idiot.” 
“I won’t,” he answered immediately, though he wondered what issue warranted you to require his word. 
Taking a deep breath, you nodded. “YangYang asked me out a few days ago. I’ve always liked him, but not in a way that’s not platonic. I fucked up and instead of rejecting him right there, I asked him for some time to think it over and kinda led him to believe that I would say yes.”
Jeno raised an eyebrow. “How?” 
“I told him he’s my type,” you mumbled, cringing at the memories that came rushing back. 
“What?!” he exclaimed. “How the hell did you manage to do that?” 
“I don’t know!” you whined and buried your face in your hands. “He came up to me when I was in the library and asked if we could talk! I didn’t know he was going to drop such a bomb on me so I said yes. Then he started talking about how he’s always cherished our friendship and how he’s so glad to have me.
“I started suspecting where his train of thought was headed when he added a but to his sentence. He said he’s liked me for a while now and he couldn’t keep it to himself anymore. I was flabbergasted once he was done! I’ve always viewed him as a good friend and I didn’t want to just turn his heart down!”
“So you told him he was your type?” Jeno asked incredulously. “I know I promised to not call you an idiot but you’re really fucking stupid, Y/N! It’s going to be hella awkward when the group meets up!” 
You groaned and closed your eyes shut, letting yourself fall on your back. “That’s not even the worst part.” 
Jeno grabbed your wrists and hauled you back up. His face was barely a few inches away from yours when he ordered, “Explain.”
Taking a deep breath, you continued. “I told YangYang that he was cute and my type but I wasn’t in a position to think about going out with anyone with still two weeks of finals left to get through. I thought he would drop it but he asked me if I would think about his confession after our exams and I felt terrible telling him the truth. So I said I would. Yeji called me last night and said she set me up on a blind date with this guy in her class. You know how fast word spreads here. YangYang is going to know I dangled him on strings only to go on a date with someone else!” 
“You’re going on a blind date? With whom?” 
You flicked Jeno’s forehead. “That’s not the issue!” 
“Well, I want to know!” he sputtered and slapped your hand away. 
“I don’t know! Frankly, I don’t care either. I made a bet with Yeji and I lost. Now I have to spend an evening with a random guy I don’t even want to seek a romantic relationship with.” 
Your best friend sighed in frustration. “This might be one of your biggest fuck-ups till now.”
“I know,” you said quietly and dropped your gaze to your lap in shame. 
“You’ll have to apologise to YangYang and tell him the truth. He’s a good guy and he doesn’t deserve any of this.” 
“I know.” 
“Hey,” Jeno said softly. You glanced at him to see he’d gotten up and was holding his out for you. “Come here.” 
You rose to your feet and let him envelop you in his comforting embrace. Burying your face in his chest, you whispered, “I never wanted to hurt YangYang. I don’t want to lose him as a friend.” 
“You won’t as long as you come clean and explain everything. Don’t insult him further by giving him more half-truths. Guys would rather know what’s the real deal than be lied to and find out from someone else. Not only is it hurtful, but it’s a huge blow to the ego.”  
Your lips curled in a small smile and you leaned back a little to look at his face. “Is this about your mom lying to you about the tooth fairy?” 
“Damn right it is,” he grumbled. “I gave an entire speech about her being my favourite person in the whole world. That’s not something you recover from easily.”
“It’s been 15 years.”
“It’ll take me another 15 to come to terms with the fact that I used to rip my loose teeth out and place them under my pillow when I needed money urgently.” 
You laughed and pulled yourself out of his arms. “I can’t believe I’m taking guy advice from you.” 
“Why?” Jeno exclaimed. “I’m a guy too! Plus, I always give good advice!” 
You giggled and plopped down on the sofa again. “I know. But you’re also Jeno. I’ve never thought of you as just a guy.” 
“I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended.” 
“How about you sit your ass down and help me study now that you’re here? I made flash cards.” 
Snatching the stack from your hand, Jeno teased, “Oh, how would you survive without me?”
“I don’t have to wonder about that shit.” You grinned. “There’s no way in hell you’re getting rid of me anytime soon.” 
He laughed. “And thank fuck for that.” 
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03. hugs always make you feel safe thanks to all the beef underneath
You were going to drag Jeno to the seventh circle of Hell. 
You couldn’t afford to go grocery shopping with him when you had a huge exam the next day. You hadn’t studied shit and were one “have you prepared for tomorrow’s final?” away from a mental breakdown. 
It didn’t help that Yeji had called you in the middle of the night to clear a doubt she had from a chapter you didn’t even know had been covered.
You’d been panicking ever since and it felt like you were going to get a heart attack at any moment.  
“Doritos or Lays?” 
“Kick to the nuts or knuckles to the jaw?” 
Your best friend tore his gaze from the rack of chips and eyed you warily. “I said I’ll help you study tonight.” 
“You don’t understand, Jeno!” you exclaimed and ran a hand through your messy hair, pacing in the supermarket aisle impatiently. “I’m going to fail! Fail!”  
Groaning, Jeno grabbed your arm and forced you to face him. He held your shoulders and looked you in the eyes, enunciating each word as he reiterated, “You’re not going to fail. We’re going to pull an all-nighter in the library, but we need to be stocked up on food before we do that.” 
You sighed painfully. It burned your eyes to just focus on anything—how the hell were you supposed to stay awake for another day and write a three-hour-long exam after that? 
“You could have come here without dragging me with you,” you muttered. “I could have been studying at home instead of wasting precious time.”
Jeno frowned. “Any more time in front of your laptop and you would have gone insane, Y/N. Your eyes are completely red.” 
“Oh, that’s not because of the screen time. I cried before you came to check on me.” 
Huffing a small laugh that bordered on exasperation, amusement and worry, Jeno threw a few packets of Doritos in the shopping cart before slinging an arm around your neck. You let him pull you against him and wrapped your arms around his waist as the two of you began walking. 
“Well, you needed to get out anyway. I don’t remember the last time I saw you leave your apartment.” 
“I stepped outside yesterday to play with the neighbour’s cat,” you said defensively. 
“Not good enough,” Jeno popped. “We’re going to go get a massage once we’re done shopping.” 
You stopped in your tracks and peeled yourself away from him. “The final is in twenty-eight hours!” you yelled, staring at him incredulously. “Are you fucking stupid?!” 
“So you have plenty of time to de-stress before you start studying again!” he chirped, paying no heed to your concerns nor the people who had heard your outburst and were giving you odd looks. “Trust me, I went for a massage before my final and I was so relaxed. It helped me to focus too.” 
“Jeno,” you uttered his name with barely contained impatience. “I don’t have time. I need to cover a lot of shit before I go and sit in the fucking examination hall.” 
“And I said I’ll help!” he repeated, sounding almost exasperated. Pushing the shopping cart forward again, he studied the shelves and continued, “You always do this, Y/N. You freak out before a test and act like the world is ending only for you to do super well.”
“Well—” you began, stumbling after him— “that’s just my coping mechanism! The more worried I am, the better I do. But I’m screwed for real this time!” 
“No,” Jeno popped, placing a 2-litre bottle of Sprite in the cart. “I’m not listening to you this time. Especially not after you stayed awake for three days straight for your midterm.” 
You sighed again. There was no arguing with your best friend. “How long is this massage of yours going to take?” 
“We’ll be back at your place in two hours max,” he reassured you, patting your head. You swatted his hand away and gave him a dirty look. “I think we have everything we need to make it through today and tomorrow.” 
“Why do we need such a big bottle of Sprite?” 
“Party at my place this weekend. There’s a discount so I’m buying in advance.”
You frowned. “Shouldn’t you be stocking up on booze?”
“The guys said I have an alcohol addiction,” Jeno said, getting in line at the billing counter. “Which is, like, totally untrue but you know I never back down from a challenge. I’m going to prove them wrong by staying sober for two weeks.”
“Sure,” you snorted. “You’ll just find lame loopholes or cheat when no one’s looking.”
A sly grin took form on Jeno’s lips. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and drawled, “I know what you do when no one’s looking.”
“Really?” You feigned a gasp. “You know I sneak over to your house and steal your food when you’re not there?”
His smile dropped immediately. “Wait, what? That’s you? Not Hyuck?”
“The food thief is me but the one stealing your sheet masks is Hyuck,” you admitted.
“He steals my masks?! The ones I buy are expensive as fuck!” Jeno exclaimed, betrayal seeping into his features. His hands fell to his side and his eyes turned distant. “I can’t believe he’s been gaslighting me into thinking I do an extra round of skincare when I’m drunk.”
You giggled and pushed the shopping cart forward once the person in front of you was done. Placing the contents on the billing counter for the cashier to scan, you revealed, “Hyuck saw me raiding your pantry when you were at the gym. He used that as leverage against me for weeks before I saw him stealing your sheet masks and was able to finally strike a deal—he turns a blind eye to my robberies and I turn a blind eye to his.”
“Why’d you team up with him?” Jeno pouted. “I thought we were best friends.”
You laughed incredulously. “Seriously? That’s what you’re focusing on? Not the part where Hyuck and I used your stuff without asking?”
“Well, yeah, I’m pissed you used my shit. But I guess I’m just a little more bothered that you guys teamed up,” Jeno said and shrugged, fetching his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. “Because, you know, coming together to make people suffer has always been our thing.”
You raised an eyebrow, slightly amused by how he was beating around the bush. “Are you saying you wanna team up with me to get back at Hyuck?”
Jeno grinned. “I’m gonna screw over that motherfucker so bad. You get off the hook, though, because you’re cute and I need your help.”
“You’re impossible.” You huffed and shook your head. Taking the bag of groceries, you said to him, “Text me my share and I’ll Venmo the money to you.”
“You could buy me an ice cream instead.”
“No,” you denied immediately. “We’re not wasting time on ice cream. Massage and then straight home so I can pick up my study material and we can leave for the library.”
Thankfully, Jeno didn’t protest. He drove you to your apartment complex and waited for you while you packed your bag. Then, the two of you were off to the massage place.
An hour later, you were done and forced to admit that the massage had indeed helped you. It felt like all the stress had left your body. Thinking about the final didn’t make you want to cry anymore and things were actually looking up now that you were rested.
You were able to retain the knowledge better and it was easier to understand the concepts. Jeno quizzed you and provided you with an endless supply of coffee throughout the night.
Right before lunch the next day, however, the panic resurfaced as you were revising your syllabus for the last time before your final at 3. You couldn’t seem to remember anything you had studied the previous night. 
You could feel another breakdown coming, but before you could hyperventilate, Jeno scooped you up in his arms.
You hadn’t even realised when he’d come back from picking up your food. One minute, you were trying to control your breath and the next, your face was buried in his hard chest.
You held onto his shirt as his hands rubbed soothing circles on your back and he rocked you from side to side.
“Shh, don’t cry,” he mumbled and kissed the top of your head. “You’re gonna ace the final like you always do. You were able to answer all the quiz questions, so keep in mind that you are prepared. The pre-exam anxiety is just clouding your thoughts. Everything’s gonna come back to you when you sit down to write, alright?”
Nodding, you clenched your eyes shut and bit down on your lip to keep a sob from escaping. Jeno’s presence kept acting like a tether for you. It always had.
Maybe he was right about the final. Maybe he wasn’t. But at that moment, engulfed in his warm, safe embrace, it felt like everything was going to be okay.
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𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 !
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01. having to deal with a narcissistic asshole. 
It was an especially sweltering day. 
You were being baked inside-out despite wearing a tank top and a pair of shorts, your hair tied in a messy high bun. Adding to your torment was your broken A/C. You’d requested your landlord to fix it several times but your efforts were to no avail. 
You would have kept bothering him incessantly and gotten the job done if you weren’t so intimidated by him already. 
Sighing, you eyed your bathroom. A cold shower sounded like an amazing idea. Jeno wasn’t supposed to come over to watch the movie for a while anyway. 
Deciding to cool yourself and get rid of the sweat sticking to your body, you entered the tiny bathroom. A high-pitched squeal left your mouth the moment you turned the shower knob and the cold water hit your skin. 
“Fuck,” you cursed and flinched, turning the knob the other way immediately. Your shitty apartment didn’t even have a valve to adjust the temperature—the water was either mildly hot or ice cold. Showering in summer was always a big problem.
“God, I don’t wanna keep doing this,” you mumbled to yourself and stepped into your room again. 
There was this… thing you’d been doing ever since you moved into this apartment. Whenever it was hot, you’d work out so you’d get more sweaty. That way, when you showered under the ice-cold water, it didn’t feel as unbearable. 
It was weird and there probably was no science behind it, but you didn’t care as long as it worked. 
So, you rolled out your yoga mat on the floor and began warming up. 
Within no time, your skin was glistening with sweat and your hair was damp. You were struggling to complete the last push-up of your final set when someone knocked on your door, causing you to lose your focus. Your arms gave out beneath you, and you collapsed to the ground. 
“Woah, it’s boiling in here,” Jeno pointed out intelligently. “And you look like you’re one move away from dying. God, I can’t even breathe Why the fuck are you working out with the windows closed? Are you stupid?” 
Groaning, you rolled on your back and watched your best friend as he moved to the windows and threw them open. “Hey!” you protested weakly and raised a trembling arm in a pathetic attempt to stop him. “I’m trying to do something!”
Jeno raised an eyebrow at you and grabbed your hand, hauling you up effortlessly. “Oh, yeah? Pray tell.” 
You crashed into his chest and rebounded, but he tightened his hold on you. His palm hovered over your back in case you lost your balance. Steadying yourself, you glared at him and snapped, “No. You’re gonna make fun of me.”
“I won’t!” Jeno laughed, his eyes crinkling. 
“Stop, you’re doing it already!” 
“Okay! Okay, I’m sorry. I really do wanna know what you were doing.” 
You eyed him for a moment, waiting for him to slip up and start laughing again. But Jeno’s face remained mildly curious. Satisfied, you explained, “Well, because I was feeling hot, I decided to take a shower. The water here is very cold, though, so I decided to work out in a closed room because that would make me even hotter. If I get in the shower now, it wouldn’t feel as cold because my body temperature has already increased, and the water would be sort of neutralised.” 
A beat of silence passed. And then, “I know I said I wouldn’t make fun of you—”
“Then stop talking.”
“But did you not realise you could have mixed the hot and cold water in a bucket?” Jeno continued, clearly still talking. “Or, I don’t know, come over to my place to shower?” 
“You live with three other men.” You deadpanned. “I was not going to shower in your apartment with Jaemin, Renjun and Hyuck there. Also, I don’t have a big enough bucket, so I will be buying one today,” you added, muttering the last bit. 
Jeno rolled his eyes. “God, Y/N, I would have kicked the guys out.” 
“What makes you think they would have listened to you?” you asked amusedly.
“Okay, true,” he agreed. “They would have listened to you, though. If there’s anyone who’s bossy enough to get them out of the house on a hot Sunday afternoon, it’s you.” 
“Are you calling me bossy?” 
“Are you going to shower now?” he deflected. “You stink.”
“Shut up!” you exclaimed and slapped his shoulder hard, but laughed nonetheless. Moving away from him, you kicked him off your yoga mat and said, “You opened the windows and interrupted my workout, so I don’t feel as hot anymore. I think I’m gonna exercise a little more so I don’t die of hypothermia in the shower. You can take my laptop and choose a movie till then if you want.”
“How about I work out with you?” Jeno suggested. “We can have our gym bros moment.” 
“I don’t wanna have a gym bros moment with you.”
“Why?” he whined. 
Flicking his forehead, you said, “Because I know you’re gonna turn this into a competition, and I’m not in the mood.” 
“Scared?”
“You wish,” you scoffed. “I’m tired from all the working out I did before you came, and I’m not going against you when you have that advantage over me.” 
“That still means you’re scared. Pussy.”
Letting out an exasperated sigh, you got into the position for a plank. “Get out if you’re going to keep being annoying and not contribute shit to our gym bros moment.”
“I knew you’d come around,” Jeno replied smugly. You practically heard the grin in his voice when he said that. 
You closed your eyes and laboured your breathing as you felt your abdomen begin to burn almost immediately. “Had to, or I knew you’d keep irritating me.” 
Opening your lids, you turned your neck to see if he was doing the exercise with you. 
Your arms gave out the moment you saw Jeno shirtless, his bulging biceps on full display.
“Damn, you lost quicker than I thought,” he commented. 
“Why are you naked?!” you demanded in a shrill voice. 
Still in position, Jeno only glanced at you like you were out of your mind. “I was wearing a hoodie, Y/N. Did you expect me to do a plank in that furnace?” 
“Yeah!” you exclaimed. To your dismay, your eyes kept drifting to his well-defined muscles no matter how much you tried to focus on his face. 
To make things worse, Jeno noticed. And smirked. “Stop complaining if you’re enjoying the view so much. It’s okay to admit you have a hot best friend.”
Flustered, you scrambled to your feet and looked at the ceiling. God, you felt like a stupid middle schooler. It was insane how much of an effect Jeno was having on you. What was weirder was that your mind was drifting to places it had never been before. At least where your best friend was concerned. 
“Narcissus has nothing on you,” you muttered under your breath, and tried to gather your bearings. 
“Besides,” Jeno continued, having not heard you. “I do send you pictures sometimes. I don’t know why you’re acting like you’ve never seen me like this.” 
“Your phone’s camera is fucked, Jeno,” you grumbled. “The photos you texted me didn’t capture half of what’s actually there.”
No matter what you hadn’t seen, you’d felt whenever you hugged each other. It didn’t take away your surprise upon seeing the 2440p quality visual though. 
“Is that disappointment I hear?” he taunted. 
“No!” you exclaimed and finally looked at him again. At the sight of his working muscles, you muttered, “Can we stop now? You won.”
“Ah!” Jeno dragged the word as if he had just stumbled upon a revelation. “You want me to stand up so you can get a better view of my abs? Got it.” 
Your eyes widened, and before you could deny his ridiculous accusations, he was towering over you. Wiggling his eyebrows, he gestured towards himself and flexed dramatically. 
“You’re an idiot,” you huffed, unable to help yourself. 
“Yeah? Then I guess an idiot just managed to fluster the shit out of you.” Jeno smiled and ruffled your hair. Bending, he picked up his discarded hoodie and shrugged it back on. “I’ll go and get you a bathing bucket from the supermarket around the corner. Don’t freeze yourself to death.” 
You rolled your eyes. “I won’t.” 
“Also, do you remember the shirt I forgot here all those months ago after I got wet in the rain? Can you find it so I can change into it when I’m back?” He frowned and looked at himself. “I’ll eventually toast myself if I watch the movie in my hoodie.”
“Sure, but you’re stupid for wearing warm clothes in summer,” you commented.  
Jeno gave you a dirty look. “Sorry for assuming your A/C was in working condition. Besides, you always want to cuddle when we watch movies, so I figured you’d be more comfortable if I was wearing a hoodie.” 
Your cheeks warmed at that, your heart stumbling a beat. What was wrong with you? You’d always known Jeno was caring and went out of his way to do nice things for you.
Typically, you’d have felt grateful for how thoughtful he was being. 
Now, though, you felt that and… something else that you didn’t really want to acknowledge. 
“Whatever,” you said instead, trying to sound dismissive. Pushing him out of your room, you continued, “I’ll find it. Just hurry up with the bucket.” 
A few minutes after Jeno was gone, a notification popped up on your phone. 
[jeno]: clearer picture that i clicked on jaemin’s phone for your viewing pleasure :”) 
You blinked in confusion and opened the photo that was attached below, your eyes widening the moment you saw it. It was a zoomed-in gym mirror selfie of Jeno wearing nothing but sweatpants and shoes, his muscular abdomen on full display. 
[you]: did you crop jaemin? 
[jeno]: ???? [jeno]: wdym……. [you]: the photo’s dimensions are weird [jeno]: oh [jeno]: what the fuck [you]: LMFAOOO [jeno]: STOP I DIDN’T WANT YOU LOOKING AT HIM INSTEAD OF ME I’VE GOT A BETTER BODY ANYWAY AND I’M GONNA BUY A NEW PHONE SO I CAN SEND YOU CLEARER PICS WITHOUT HAVING TO CROP THAT FUCKER OUT 
You bit down on your lip to keep yourself from smiling too wide. Right before you were about to type a reply, you received another text from your best friend. 
[jeno]: so are you gonna tell me what you think [you]: FINE you’re hot. [you]: happy?  [jeno]: euphoric
Finally laughing out loud, you shook your head. 
Narcissus had nothing on Jeno indeed.
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02. female friends ask you to be their wingwoman 
You didn’t think you’d ever accompanied Jeno to a party without having someone ask you to set them up with him. 
“Please,” Yoo Jimin begged for what seemed like the thousandth time. “Yeji said he was single!” 
Sighing, you mentally cursed Yeji for inviting Jimin to Jeno’s party. “He is, but I’m not setting you up with him.” 
“Why?” Jimin demanded rather aggressively, making you wonder what it would take for her to quit nagging you. “Do you like him or something?” 
It took a concerning amount of effort for you to refrain from rolling your eyes. “I do not.” 
“Then what’s the problem?” 
“I don’t know, Jimin!” you finally burst and gestured at your surroundings. “Maybe I’m not too keen on helping you out because you followed me into the washroom and cornered me! Maybe I feel used because you’ve never shown much interest in me even though I’ve tried striking up a conversation with you several times before!”  
Jimin’s features softened, and she looked away. “You’re right,” she muttered, guilt and shame evident in her voice. “I’m sorry for jumping on you like that.” 
You immediately felt bad for snapping at her. Pursing your lips, you tried to cheer her up. “Don’t worry about it. You don’t need me to set you up with him anyway. I know we haven’t hung out much, but based on what I’ve heard about you from Yeji, you’re smart, funny and social. You have no reason to be nervous while approaching Jeno.” 
For some reason, you regretted encouraging Jimin to pursue your best friend. A gaping hole formed in your heart, and you wished she would go for someone else instead. 
“Thanks, Y/N.” Jimin smiled gratefully. “I know I’ve been a shitty person, but could you give me another chance? I’d really like to get to know you more.” 
And just like that, the hollowness in your chest was gone. You gave her a genuine smile of your own and said, “I gotta pee right now, but does lunch tomorrow work for you?”
Jimin’s eyes widened. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I forgot where we were.” Rubbing the nape of her neck sheepishly, she replied, “Lunch works. I’ll text you tonight so we can talk about it.” 
The two of you exchanged your goodbyes, and then she was gone. A few minutes later, you exited the washroom as well and headed back to the party. 
“I missed you,” a voice slurred in your ear. Arms circled around your waist, and a face buried itself into the crook of your neck. 
You laughed. “You failed the challenge, Jeno.” 
“Where were you?” he demanded in an almost whiny tone. “It’s your fault! I wouldn’t have lost at beer pong if you’d been playing with me.” 
Patting Jeno’s back in consolation, you replied, “I’m sorry you have zero self-control and commit to things you know you won’t be able to do.” 
Jeno peeled himself away from you and pouted. “You’re mean.”
“Thanks. Let’s get wasted together,” you said, but then added upon looking at his already tipsy condition, “Or I can get wasted, and your ass can keep me company.”  
“Don’t you think one of us should be sober?” Jeno asked as you pulled him along.
“I’m not gonna hold back from drinking!” you exclaimed. “Let me remind you that you were supposed to be the sober one today and make sure I didn’t do anything stupid. I’m blaming you if I get naked in the yard.” 
Thanks to the music that was gradually getting louder as you approached the main party area, you didn’t hear your best friend’s response. You tightened your grip on his hand when the crowd thickened. Wading your way through the dancing throng, you finally reached the table lined with alcohol and food. 
You chose a bottle of Romanov and popped it open, drinking straight from it. You’d barely taken a few gulps when Jeno snatched it from you and put it to his own mouth. 
Throwing him a dirty look, you picked up another bottle for yourself. “Do you wanna dance?”
“I wanna throw up.” 
“Suit yourself.” You shrugged and aimed for the dance floor. A smile crept on your face upon seeing Jaemin; you were not in the mood to dance alone. 
“Y/N!” he hollered when he noticed you. Stumbling towards you, he pulled you in a quick embrace. “I haven’t seen you in so long!” 
“Finals!” you answered. Jaemin nodded in understanding and ran a hand through his hair, taking a swig from his beer. “Do you wanna dance?” 
You grinned. “You know I do.” 
The next few hours were a complete blur. The bottle in your hand was replaced by more one after the other, and when Jaemin deemed you’d had enough to drink, he gave you a red solo cup filled with water instead. 
It felt good to finally unwind after the horrible few weeks you’d had. There was no academic stress weighing down on you anymore, and though you were low on sleep, you didn’t want to stop partying. 
You just wished you and Jeno had gotten wasted together. While you were having fun with Jaemin, partying with Jeno was a different experience entirely. 
Right as you were about to take a sip from your cup, you felt an arm being thrown around your neck. The touch was so familiar that you recognised who it was immediately. 
“I missed you!” you exclaimed. Jeno looked down at you with a grin on his face, a pair of black party glasses sitting on his nose. His hair was damp and fell over his forehead. Maybe it was the liquor in your system, but you could have sworn he never looked better. “Let’s dance.”
“Dance?” Jeno laughed. “Haven’t you been doing that for the past two hours? Don’t your feet hurt?” 
Frowning, you glanced at your legs. “They do!” you exclaimed, and looked back at him again, your bottom lip sticking out in a pout. Feeling tears beginning to pool in your eyes, you mumbled, “But I still want to dance.”
“How about we go on the roof instead? The stars look pretty tonight,” your best friend suggested, trying his best not to laugh at you. “I didn’t drink at all after you left me. I’m sober enough to take care of you now.” 
Your eyes lit up at that. “Wow, that’s such a good idea! You’re so smart, Jeno. I love you.”  
Jeno’s lips finally twitched up in a smile. “I love you too, silly.” 
Plucking the solo cup out of your hand, he offered you an arm. You looped yours through it with a soft thank you and leaned on him as he led you upstairs. 
The two of you entered his dark room, and Jeno shut the door behind him. Only when the loud music was muffled did you realise your head was throbbing.  
He unhooked your arms gently and grabbed a warm blanket off his bed. Throwing open his window, he jumped out on the flat roof and looked at you expectantly. 
You staggered behind Jeno and took the hand he was holding out for you. His other hand hovered over your waist as you climbed on the sill. 
Thanks to the alcohol in your system, your balance was non-existent, and your legs turned to jelly the moment they made contact with the roof. Fortunately, your best friend was there to catch you.
You bumped into Jeno’s chest instead of falling to the ground. He wrapped his arms around you and steadied you, laughing a little at your antics. 
“God, how much did you drink?” you heard him wonder to himself. You mumbled an incoherent response and leaned against the outside wall of his room, watching him lay the spread on the floor. 
The two of you usually climbed the ladder that led to the slanting roof at the very top of the house, but you reckoned the boy in front of you didn’t want to risk taking you up there when you were so wasted. 
Jeno sat down on the blanket once he was done and peeked at you over his shoulder, patting the space beside him. “Come on.” 
Pushing yourself off the siding, you stumbled to him, tripping over your feet a bit. You were able to keep your balance, though, and a moment later, you found yourself lying on the blanket next to him.
Your shoulders brushed against each other, the warmth from his body seeping into you. It was summer, but the night air was still chilly, especially now that you were on the roof. You were thankful for the protection Jeno offered against the mild cold. 
The music was blaring once again now that you were outside, and there were no barriers to deafen it, but the volume barely bothered you. Your eyes were on the stars, trying to identify the constellations.
“I see Orion right there,” Jeno said, pointing at the sky. You followed his finger, and sure enough, there it was. “And there’s Ursa Minor.” He moved his hand after noting that you had recognised Orion. 
“I don’t see it,” you muttered, blinking heavily to clear your sight. 
“Can you see Polaris?” he asked, glancing at you for a moment. 
You raised your hand and pointed it at a random star that was nowhere near the one Jeno was referring to. “There.” 
Jeno snorted. “You could spot Orion, but you can’t identify the brightest star in the sky?” Without waiting for a response, your best friend grabbed your arm and directed it to the right star. “That is Polaris.” 
“Woah.” You gaped and lowered your arm. “It’s so shiny.” 
Jeno laughed again upon hearing the child-like wonder in your voice. You stargazed often and always challenged each other to see who could identify the most constellations in a minute. He knew the night sky was familiar to you, but seeing you like this reminded Jeno of the first time he brought you to his roof and introduced you to his favourite hobby. 
“Do you want it?” he teased. 
Eyes widening, you turned your neck to look at him, your faces so close you could count his lashes. “Really?” 
“Really,” he said and pinched your cheek, unable to help himself. “I’ll get it for you.” 
A wide smile immediately broke across your lips, and you threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Thank you!” you squealed. 
Jeno chuckled, a little surprised that you had practically climbed on top of him, and part of him was caged under you now. He didn’t mind the sudden intimacy. It had always been his love language; any sort of physical contact with you—be it comparing hand sizes or carrying you on his back—warmed his heart. 
Patting your head, he asked, “You want me to show you the rest of Ursa Minor?” 
“Yes.” You nodded into the crook of his neck and peeled yourself away from him, but your head still rested where his shoulder met his arm. 
Brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen on your face, he averted his gaze to the sky. “Polaris is the tail of The Little Dipper. Now we move towards the left. See the star that’s above the brightest? That’s Delta. Epsilon is above Delta too, but the distance between them is not as much as the distance between the first two. Zeta is below—” 
You tuned Jeno out. He was still showing you the stars that made up the constellations, far too invested to notice that you were no longer paying attention to what he was saying and were looking at something much more beautiful instead. 
You’d always known your best friend was attractive. You’d have to be blind to not notice his striking features—they were sharp with a certain softness around the edges. His face always stood out in crowds and demanded people’s undivided attention. 
Rightfully so, you thought to yourself as you admired his perfectly straight nose and the shape of his soft lips, diverting your gaze to his eyes. You’d always thought they were his best features. They were warm and open and felt like home. It deserves to be appreciated. 
“Pherka, Eta, Kochab and Zeta form a—”
“You’re prettier.”
Jeno glanced at you, your faces mere inches away and those beautiful eyes peering into yours with slight confusion. “What?”
“You said the stars looked pretty tonight,” you whispered. “I think you’re prettier.” You paused for a moment, as if rethinking your words. Then, “I think you’re the prettiest person in the world.”
A fond smile crept on your best friend’s face, and maybe it was because your ear was in the vicinity of his heart, but you could have sworn you heard it thumping loudly against his ribcage. Lightly bumping his forehead against yours, Jeno whispered back, 
“I think you’re the prettiest person in the world too.” 
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03. it’s very easy to fall for them, especially when they’re always so sweet and caring
The first thing you felt upon regaining your consciousness was pain. 
Your skull was splitting apart, the little bit of sunlight creeping in through the closed curtains rendering you blind. Nausea was beginning to set in, but your body was so weak that you weren’t sure you could make it to the toilet in time. 
You should have never drunk so much. Not only had you not taken any proper rest after working yourself to exhaustion during your finals, but had also danced to the point you couldn’t move your legs. Heck, you couldn’t even remember much of the party. You recalled leaving Jeno behind to party with Jaemin, but everything after that was a huge blank slate. 
The toilet was far away, but you could try reaching the dustbin near the study table instead of just throwing up on the carpet. Groaning, you tried to push yourself up. When that didn’t work, you put all strength in your abdomen and threw yourself off the bed. 
A shockwave of agony passing through your body rendered you immobile on the ground. You moaned in pain and curled in on yourself, covering your mouth with a hand upon tasting bile on your tongue. 
The door was thrown open, and a worried Jeno gaped at you lying on his room’s hard floor motionlessly. “What the fuck?” 
“Dustbin,” you croaked with much difficulty, tears springing to your eyes. They hurt so much you wanted to rip them out. 
Your best friend moved into action immediately. “I kept the dustbin right beside the bed in case you got sick, you blind twat truck. Along with painkillers and water on the table.”  
You found it in yourself to glare at the boy, but he ignored you. Placing the waste basket in front of you, he helped you up. You gripped the rim as he gathered your hair in his hand and held it up to avoid it getting in the way of your vomit. 
Right before you emptied the toxins in your body, you managed to say to him, “How capable do I look to you right now, you stupid toe-licking grinch man?” 
Jeno rolled his eyes and rubbed your back with his other hand, patiently waiting for you to finish. Once your heaving stopped, you took the tissue he was holding out for you and wiped your mouth. You felt much better after throwing up but you were still so tired. 
“Come on.”
You swatted Jeno’s hand away and rested your back on his bed, tucking your legs under your chin. “Too much effort,” you muttered and closed your eyes, willing the headache to go away.
“I was going to carry you to the bed, Y/N,” he said in exasperation. 
“I just need a moment,” you whispered almost incoherently, wishing he would stop asking you questions when you had no energy to answer. “A moment and an Aspirin.” 
There was some shuffling, and then you felt a hand brushing your matted hair out of your face. “Here.”
You peeled your lids open to see Jeno crouched in front of you with water and the painkiller you had asked for. Taking it from his hand, you popped it into your mouth and gulped down some water. 
For a few moments, you tried to regulate your breathing and calm yourself down. Jeno could tell you were gathering the willpower and strength to climb back on his bed. He wanted to help, but you clearly didn’t want it. So, he just watched you silently struggle.
He should have been with you last night; he hated that he wasn’t when he had promised to be the sober half. As far as Jeno was concerned, Jaemin was going to get an earful about keeping tabs on how much his friends drank. Never in the two years of friendship had he seen you with such a huge hangover. 
“Fuck,” he heard you curse under your breath. You moaned in pain as you pushed yourself up on trembling arms and fell on his mattress. Sighing, Jeno tucked you in and pressed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 
“Sleep well,” he said and made his way to the door. “I’ll wake you up for lunch. Renjun is making grilled sandwiches.” 
Your eyes flew open again. Fuck. You were supposed to meet Jimin. 
“Jeno, wait,” you blurted, and he stopped in his tracks. “I was supposed to meet a friend for lunch, but I don’t think I can make it. Can you cover for me?” 
Your best friend leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. “Which friend?” 
“Jimin.” 
“I thought she ghosted you.” He frowned. “Now you’re meeting her for lunch?” 
“No, you are meeting her for lunch. I don’t wanna be rude and cancel at the last minute. What if she already left?”
“It’s 10 in the morning.”
“Well, what if she turned down other offers because of the plans we made?” 
“She left an hour ago with Mark after passing out on the couch in Hyuck’s room last night. I doubt she’s had the time to turn down any other offers. Actually, I think she’ll be glad you cancelled. She looked pretty hungover when she left.”
“Why are you being so difficult?” you whined, wincing when the throbbing in your head responded to the sudden increase in the volume of your voice. “I’m only asking you for a small favour.” 
“I’m not being difficult,” Jeno defended himself and took a few steps towards you. “I’m trying to tell you that you may be overthinking this. Let me send her a text from your phone asking for a reschedule, and we can have some homemade lunch with the guys.” 
Sighing heavily, you averted your gaze from his and stared at the ceiling. “I just don’t wanna blow this. I think she’s really cool and I’d like to get to know her more. I’m good friends with everyone in our social circle except her. It’s awkward.” 
Jeno’s eyes softened at that. “Y/N, you’re not blowing anything. Rescheduling lunch because you both partied till you collapsed is not going to take away any points. Trust me.” 
Your best friend was right. You were overthinking this, but you didn’t exactly blame yourself. All your efforts to befriend Jimin had been futile till now. You didn’t want to do anything that could mess up the friendship that had begun to bloom last night. 
“Fine,” you finally relented. “Shoot her a text from my phone. I think it’s in my clothes bag—” you paused, your eyes widening. Lifting Jeno’s duvet in panic, you looked down at yourself. “Who changed my clothes?” 
“Ningning did!” Jeno answered quickly, the tips of his ears turning a bright red. He couldn’t understand why he was freaking out—nothing happened. 
You exhaled in relief, trying to get rid of the alien tingling feeling spreading throughout your body. Your cheeks were hot with embarrassment. “Okay. Well, my phone’s in my clothes bag.” 
Jeno busied himself, rummaging through your backpack that was on his bedside table. What you didn’t know, however, was that it was just a front for him to calm himself down. “Got it.” He waved the phone at you. “What’s your pin?”
“Your birthday.”
His eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, and a seed of warmth sprouted in his chest. A dizzying sense of affection for you washed over him, drenching him in happiness from head to toe. “Really?” 
You nodded and closed your eyes. Turning on your side to get into a more comfortable sleeping position, you buried yourself deeper under his sheets. Yawning, you mumbled, “Day-Month-Year with leading zeros.” 
“My password is your birthday too,” he said quietly after sending Jimin the text. “A lot of them are. It’s the easiest set of numbers to remember.”
You didn’t respond. Jeno didn’t mind. He knew you’d already fallen asleep. Keeping your phone on the table, he smiled sadly and stared at your resting figure in longing. “Everything about you is so easy to remember.”
Jeno closed the door behind him as he left, none the wiser about the fact that you were still awake and had heard everything he’d said, your heart beating so fast that you thought it was going to leap out of your chest. 
Your best friend left, completely unaware of the fact that you were now entertaining the possibility of being in love with him. 
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𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒 !
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01. the green-eyed monster you resent makes an appearance more than you’d like
You genuinely couldn’t believe your friend group and their seemingly never-ending social battery. 
One would think that after a long night of partying, a person would stay at home the next day and take some much-needed rest. Your friends, however, thought it was a good idea to meet up for dinner and decide what to do over the weekend. 
You didn’t bother to remind them of the wonderful invention that was group chats. 
“We should drive up to the beach,” Mark suggested, flipping through the menu. “Summer just started, so I don’t think there will be a lot of people.” 
All of you were seated in a round booth at the back of a diner Chenle said he frequented. You weren’t going to lie; you could see why. The setting was very homey, and the cushioning of the sofa was very cosy—you were almost sure you were going to fall asleep even before your food arrived. 
Ningning, who was sitting beside Mark, peeked over his shoulder to see what was listed. Minjeong said, “That’s stupid. The start of summer is exactly when beaches get overcrowded. Most don’t get to visit the ocean during the year, so they make a beeline for the beach as soon as break begins.”  
“True,” you heard Jeno say. He leaned back in his seat and put his arm on the cushion behind you. You resisted the urge to lean in. Taking a sip of his water, he continued, “Besides, we’re already going to Jeju Island for a week next month. I don’t think we should drive three hours to go to the beach right now.” 
“What about karaoke?” Jimin piped up. She was sitting on the other side of Minjeong, opposite from Chenle, who was on the other side of the table. 
“We don’t need an entire weekend for just karaoke,” Chenle pointed out. “We could do it whenever we want.”
“Well, what about—” 
“Hey, can I take your order?” a female voice that was a combination of annoyed, upbeat, friendly and polite interrupted Minjeong. The girl looked a little flustered at being cut off, but she cleared her throat and mumbled a small yeah, just give us a minute.
The waitress did not move, so all of you awkwardly picked up the menu cards and began flipping through them. 
“The usual for me, Yuna,” Chenle said, smiling up at her. To diffuse the sudden tension created in the air, he began making small talk with her as she waited. 
“What are you eating?” Jeno asked. He was closer to you now, his eyes scanning the contents of the menu card in your hand over your shoulder. 
You shrugged. “I don’t think I’m eating anything. I’m not very hungry.” 
Jeno’s eyebrows creased, and he glanced at your face in worry. “You haven’t had anything since lunch. At least drink something.” 
“It’s fine.” You dismissed him with a wave of your hand and pushed the card in his direction so he could order whatever he wanted. “I won’t be able to finish anything by myself and I don’t wanna waste food.” 
“How about we share?” he insisted. “You eat however much you want, and I’ll finish the rest. Don’t go to sleep on an empty stomach.” 
An internal battle began. While Jeno’s suggestion was sensible, you knew he didn’t like to share his food with anyone. You remembered a time when he had refused to go on a second date with a girl because she kept nibbling on his meal. You didn’t want him to do something he hated just for your sake. 
“Really, it’s fine,” you repeated. “You go ahead and—”
“Hey, Y/N,” Yeji called, making you divert your attention to her. “You wanna share a triple-decker chicken sandwich? Chenle said this place is famous all over town for that dish.” 
You had to admit, a triple-decker chicken sandwich did sound tasty. But you’d just turned down Jeno, so you didn’t wanna say yes to Yeji. Shaking your head, you once again said, “I’m not hungry.”
“Why aren’t you hungry?” Mark frowned, overhearing your conversation. The rest of your friend group looked at you in concern. Ningning asked, “Are you okay?” 
You groaned. The last thing you wanted to do was explain to everyone why you didn’t have an appetite. “I’m okay. I’m just not hungry because I had a lot for lunch.”
“That’s a lie,” Jeno commented unhelpfully, and you smacked his shoulder hard in retaliation. He winced, rubbing the area of attack. “Hey!” 
“Shut up!” you exclaimed. Taking a deep breath, you said to everyone with as little annoyance in your voice as you could, “Please just order what you want. I still feel a little weird after last night’s party, and I don’t think I can stomach anything right now.” Before anyone could reply, you added, “I’m going to the restroom. Be right back.” 
Yeji looked a little stunned, but she got up from her seat and let you leave the booth when you requested her to move. Locking yourself in one of the stalls, you clutched your stomach and curled in on yourself, closing your eyes. 
Your period cramps were especially painful this time. Maybe it was because of last night’s exertion, but your cycle was early too. Your stomach was in too many knots for you to even think about eating anything. 
The washroom’s door opened, and you heard soft footsteps trudging towards you. Knocking on the only occupied stall’s door, a female voice asked, “Is everything okay, Y/N?” 
“Yeah,” you croaked, feeling tears burning your eyes. “Everything’s fine, Jimin. I just have period cramps, that’s all.” 
“Oh.” There was silence for a moment. “I have painkillers. Do you want them?” 
Exhaling through your mouth, you wiped your moist cheeks and stepped out of the stall. “Sure.”
Jimin smiled at you reassuringly and handed you a wet wipe, looping her arm through yours. “Don’t worry. I got you.”
Your heart swelled with happiness and gratitude. You’d wanted to connect with her for so long, and it finally felt like you were getting somewhere this time. Maybe you were being overemotional due to your fluctuating hormones, but you wanted to pull her into a hug.
“Oh, also,” you started a little sheepishly, “I wanted to apologise in person about cancelling on you earlier today. I drank and partied more than I should have. I thought about sending Jeno to cover for me, but he pointed out that it would have been awkward for you to see him when you were expecting me.”
“Woah, wait!” she gaped and took a step away from you. The shock on her face surprised you for a moment, but the feeling didn’t last long. “You’re kidding me! You should have kept insisting, Y/N! A lunch date would have been the perfect way for us to get closer!”
“I don’t think he would have considered the lunch a date because he was just a stand-in for me,” you said awkwardly, and threw the used wipe in the dustbin. 
Jimin waved you away as you walked out of the restroom and back to your booth. “I mean, yeah, it wouldn’t have been an official date, but it would have given me the opportunity to ask him out on a real one.”
“Right.”  
You hated the way you sounded. You hated the way your stomach churned, and your mood dropped. You hated that someone was pursuing Jeno. You hated that you were being forced to play Cupid, all thanks to your strong refusal to admit your feelings and the friendship you wanted to build with the girl next to you. 
“Oh, my God!” Jimin exclaimed, too immersed in her own fantasies to have noticed the change in your tone and demeanour. “I can make up for the missed opportunity by sitting next to him right now! You wouldn’t mind, would you?” 
You did mind. The idea of her making a move on your best friend made you want to dig a hole and cry. God, you were being so pathetic. This was completely unlike you, and you despised the way you were acting. You had to pull yourself together immediately. 
Besides, it wasn’t like you were ever going to explore these newfound feelings you had for Jeno. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin your friendship. Forcing an encouraging smile on your face, you said, “Um, sure! That’s a really good idea.”
“Took you guys long enough,” Chenle commented once you returned. 
You raised an eyebrow. “Did you have any other places to be?” 
“I mean I was worried.” He rolled his eyes. “We ordered food while you were gone. You sure you don’t want anything, Y/N?” 
“Yep,” you said, popping the last letter. “Scoot over and make space for us.” 
Yeji got up again and stood to the side as Jimin, and you slid into the booth. “The two of you better not make me get up again. I’m not budging even if you need to take a big dump.” 
“Sorry,” you muttered, smiling at her sheepishly. Making yourself comfortable, you grabbed your glass of water and dipped a straw in it, idly sipping the liquid. 
Jeno’s gaze caught yours from behind Jimin’s back. He pointed at her with a frown on his face and mouthed, “Why is she sitting beside me?” 
You waved him away and turned your attention to the rest of your friends. “Please tell me you guys finally decided what we’re doing over the weekend.”
“We did,” Mark piped up. “We’re thinking of going to an amusement park and then a water park.”
Jimin frowned. “Won’t those places be crowded as well?” 
“We just need to accept that most destinations will be. Everyone’s on break, so it doesn’t matter where we go. There will be people everywhere.” 
You agreed with Minjeong. “Amusement park it is. Can we hit the bars at night?”
“It won’t be much of a trip if we don’t.” Ningning grinned. “You sure you want to go clubbing so soon though? You were completely wasted when Jeno called me to his room and made me change your clothes last night.”
Mark snickered. “Are you scared of changing your own girlfriend’s clothes, Jeno?”  
Silence. No one spoke. 
NingNing was staring at Mark incredulously, and Yeji seemed to be suffering through an extreme case of second-hand embarrassment. Chenle pretended to flip through the menu while Minjeong grabbed her phone and scrolled through the apps on her home screen in an attempt to look busy. 
Jimin whirled to face you so fast that you wondered how her neck hadn’t snapped. You couldn’t even dare to look at Jeno to see what reaction Mark’s words had evoked out of him. 
Laughing awkwardly, you asked, “Who said we’re dating?” 
“You’re kidding me, right?” Mark scoffed in disbelief. “You guys are so bad at keeping your relationship private. Everyone knows there’s something going on between the two of you.” 
“Is that true?” Jeno asked, but no one present at the table dared to meet his gaze. “Do all of you think there’s something going on between Y/N and me?” 
“I mean….” Chenle began, dragging the word out. “You both are very close. People who claim to be just friends don’t cross the boundaries you two step all over everyday. But we’ve never seen you kiss either, so we’re not sure if you’re dating secretly or…” 
“You guys are crazy,” you interrupted. “Stop speculating about our relationship. It’s weird.” Turning to face a very betrayed-looking Jimin, you enunciated, “Jeno and I are just friends. That’s all there is to us.”
“Yeah,” Jeno added, glancing at you. “Y/N and I will only ever be friends. There’s no way I would date her. I don’t find her attractive in a romantic way.” 
Feeling a knot form in your heart and anger bubble in the pit of your stomach, you snapped, “Same. Jeno’s not even my type. I wouldn’t get together with him if we were the only people left on Earth.” 
Your friends exchanged knowing glances, and poor Jimin, who was stuck sitting between Jeno and you, made an attempt to diffuse the tension. “Okay, guys. We get it.” 
“I’m not sure you do,” Jeno hissed, staring all your friends down. “I can see your damn faces. The only way you’re going to believe I’m not into Y/N is if I prove it to you by going out with someone else.” 
Minjeong began, “That’s not—” 
“No, he’s right,” you fumed. Under the table, your hand curled into a fist. “The only way you guys are going to get this stupid image of Jeno and me being together romantically is if we date other people.” 
“The two of you are overreacting!” Yeji exclaimed. “There’s no need to get so defensive! We were wrong for assuming, and Mark was an idiot for opening his fat mouth. I’m sure you both would have told us if there was something. We’re all sorry.” 
There was a chorus of agreement on the table. Everyone genuinely seemed to be apologetic—except Mark, who was glaring at Yeji and looked mad for being called an idiot. His eyes met yours, and a sheepish smile took form on his lips. 
You huffed a small laugh and shook your head, but your heart was still in knots. There was a certain hollowness in the pit of your stomach. You felt sick and anxious. 
Did Jeno really have to say all those hurtful things just to convince your friends about your platonic relationship? He didn’t need to sound so offended and make your mutual denial a competition. 
Sure, you were the one who had declared there would never be anything more than just friendship between Jeno and you, but he didn’t have to cross the line by saying you weren’t appealing to him. 
Besides, you’d said what you’d said for Jimin. You didn’t actually mean the words that left your mouth. Considering the emotions you’d been feeling recently, it would be a lie to claim you didn’t hope for a different sort of future with Jeno. 
It didn’t matter anyway. A romantic relationship between the two of you wasn’t practical. Your best friend had never so much as hinted at wanting something more. 
In a twisted way, you were glad he said those wounding things. You needed to be pulled back to reality.
“Hey, Jeno,” you heard Jimin say once the food arrived and everyone started eating. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch and watch a movie sometime this week?” 
Bile rose to your throat. You hoped to God he would say no. You didn’t care if you were being a shitty person; you didn’t think you could take any more of this torture. 
“Are you asking me out on a date?”
Your eyes were trained on your glass of water, but you didn’t need to look at him to know he was surprised. As much as you hated eavesdroppers, you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting to learn where this conversation was going. 
“I am.” Jimin chuckled nervously.
Jeno didn’t reply immediately. The rest of your friends were engaged in their own discussions with the people sitting next to them. The table wasn’t silent by any means, but the only things you could hear were Jimin waiting for his answer with bated breath and the pounding of your heart in your chest. 
Then, “I would be honoured.”
Oh, you were most definitely going to throw up.
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02. you fall for them
You hadn’t talked to Jeno ever since dinner with your group.
He hadn’t reached out to you, and you hadn’t tried to contact him either. You’d received a text from Jimin the next day about the specifics of her date with Jeno. They were supposed to meet up for lunch at a restaurant near your college campus and then go out to watch some sappy rom-com. 
He didn’t even care for rom-coms. You’d begged him to watch one with you countless times and he’d always turned you down. Part of you wondered if he knew Jimin was updating you about everything and he was purposely pulling this shit to get back at you. 
But you dismissed the notion immediately. No way were you so dense and self-centred. Maybe Jeno genuinely was into Jimin. 
Your phone began ringing, and you rolled over on your bed, blindly searching for it on your bedside table. God, you hated being woken up in the middle of your afternoon naps. It almost always guaranteed a headache. 
“Hello,” you said groggily, your throat raw and dry. “Who is this?” 
“Oh! Did I wake you up?” It was Jimin. She sounded upbeat. Your heart sank. “I’m so sorry!” 
Pushing yourself up, you rubbed the gunk out of your eyes and made your way to the window. The darkness made you bump into the corner of your study table, and you bit down on your lip to keep a yelp from escaping. Hobbling, you threw the curtains open and said, “No worries. My alarm was just about to ring. How was the date?” 
Laughter bubbled from the other end of the phone line. “It was cool! He is a really good guy. No wonder everyone is head over heels for him. He opened the door for me, didn’t let me spend any money even though I asked him out, was an excellent listener, called me pretty and beautiful, and drove me back home. Oh, God, and the eye-contact? It made him a hundred times sexier.” 
Seems legit, you thought to yourself. Jeno had always been a gentleman. The other girls you’d set him up with had pretty much given you the same feedback. Part of you felt relieved that this date hadn’t been any different than the others he’d been on. 
Except the rom-com part, of course. For the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why he would agree to something he hated. 
“Ah, I’m happy for you, Jimin!” you exclaimed, trying your best to mean what you said. Your own words tasted like ash on your tongue. “Are you guys going on a second date?” 
“I’m not sure, to be honest. He said he had a great time with me, but when I tried to ask him out again, he just hugged me. That took me by surprise, and I kinda just forgot.” She laughed. “I know good dates usually end with a kiss, but the fact that he didn’t go for one didn’t bother me.”
“Oh,” you mumbled. Sitting on the ledge of your window, you asked, “That sounds nice. Do you think you’ll try asking him again?”
The last thing you expected her to say was no. And the way she said it… she didn’t sound sad or upset or disappointed. She sounded like herself. She sounded the way one would when they talked about the weather. 
It confused you. Didn’t Jimin just say the date was really good? She sounded so happy and delighted. Why was she backing out now?
“I—I don’t get it,” you sputtered. “I thought you were into him. I thought you had a great time today. Why aren’t you going to ask him out again? Did something else happen—?”
“Calm down.” She chuckled. “Nothing happened.” 
“Huh? Then what’s the problem?”
“Nothing happened,” she repeated. “That’s the problem. I like Jeno. He’s attractive, funny and caring. He’s everything a girl would want in a guy. But there was no spark between us. I had a great time with him, but hanging out today didn’t feel any different than usual. It felt like I was hanging out with a good friend, not with a potential romantic interest.
“I was looking forward to exploring what I felt for him. Turns out, it was just physical attraction. It also turns out that he wasn’t into me at all. If it wasn’t obvious the night we all went out for dinner, it was glaringly clear today. I think part of the reason he said yes was that he didn’t want to hurt my feelings,” she added. “The other—major—part was that he’s in love with someone else, and I would rather die than be a homewrecker.”    
“Oh,” you said again. You didn’t know how to respond to that. What did she mean Jeno is in love with someone else? You didn’t dare focus on the last part of what she’d said. You didn’t dare hope that the person she was referring to was you. “Well, I’m sorry it didn’t work out between the two of you. I’m sure you’ll find someone else easily. You’re a delight. Anyone would be lucky to date you.”
Jimin laughed again. “If you weren’t in love with Jeno too, Y/N, I would have thought you were into me.” 
It took a second for the words to register, but when they did, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. Forcing yourself to laugh, you croaked, “Whatever do you mean?” 
Saying that was a mistake. You should not have asked her to elaborate. She was going to make you come to terms with your feelings, and all the time and effort you’d spent denying and trying to get rid of them was going to go down the drain. 
Before she could speak, you made a static sound with your mouth. Then, you pretended that the connection was really bad. “Wha—hear—you. Try—back. Hell—?” 
You hung up before Jimin could call you out on your bullshit. A moment later, you saw a text pop up. 
[jimin]: that was soooo unsubtle  [y/n]: idk what ur talking ab!!!!!!! [jimin]: sure [jimin]: also a tiny heads up [jimin]: i told jeno to stop being a pussy and an asshole so he’s on his way 2 ur place now [y/n]: WHAT THE FUCK [jimin]: i’m going 2 pretend u said thank u [jimin]: don’t forget ab our dinner date tmrw [jimin]: have fun <3 
It was crazy how the bell rang almost immediately after you read the last text. You wondered if the timing was planned and that Jimin had told Jeno to wait till she gave him the go-ahead. 
You trudged to the front door and took a deep breath before opening it.
“Hey,” Jeno mumbled with a small smile. His hair was ruffled, as if he had run his hands through it several times. “Can I come in?” 
Biting the inside of your cheek, you nodded and moved out of the way to make space for him to step inside. He shoved his hands inside the pockets of his jeans and stood awkwardly. 
“You can sit,” you said, feeling the corners of your lips curl up in amusement. 
He sighed and wove his fingers through his strands again. “Not before I apologise for my behaviour. I was completely out of line that day,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said those things. I didn’t mean them.” 
“So you don’t think I’m unattractive?” 
You meant to tease him, but the next thing you knew, he was standing toe-to-toe with you, a desperate and guilt-ridden expression adorning his face. “God, no. You’re the most beautiful person I have ever seen. I only said that because… because I knew it would hurt you.” 
Jeno was standing too close to you. You could barely breathe, much less think. But that didn’t stop you from asking, “Why would you want to hurt me?” 
He didn’t answer for what felt like an entire minute. He only kept staring at you, an internal battle raging inside him. Then, he let loose a breath of frustration and moved away. He refused to look at you, and your patience kept slipping with each moment that passed. 
Right when you thought it would snap, Jeno spoke up, “It hurt me when you said you and I would only ever be friends. I know how stupid it sounds, but it really did. For years, I’d been pining after you and hoping that maybe we could be something more in the future. I felt like an idiot when I realised wouldn’t ever view me in that light. 
“You got so defensive when Chenle said all our friends were suspicious of us being in a secret relationship. I couldn’t help but wonder if you felt disgusted at the idea of us being together. I got angry at myself for being naive and said those horrible things without even realising.” 
You didn’t know what to say. This was the second time you’d been rendered speechless in the past thirty minutes. It was one revelation after the other; you were having a hard time keeping up.
“You—you like me?” you stuttered. 
Jeno laughed humourlessly and looked you dead in the eyes. “I love you, Y/N.” 
“No.” 
“Yes.” 
You took a step back. “No, no, no, no—”
“Yes,” he pressed. “I’m sorry that I do. I know this changes everything, but I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I just—”
“Why would you go out with Jimin if you… if you love me?” you whispered. 
“Partly to see your reaction and partly in an attempt to get over you,” he admitted. “It didn’t work. I just—I just couldn’t stop thinking about you the entire time I was with her. I felt so guilty for saying such terrible things because I couldn’t deal with my emotions and come to terms with reality. I’m really sorry, Y/N.” 
You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m sorry too.”
“You don’t have to apologise for not loving me back—”
“That’s not what I’m apologising for,” you interrupted and walked towards him until your abdomens were touching. “I’m apologising for not seeing it sooner. I’m apologising for encouraging Jimin to ask you out even though it killed me. I’m apologising for denying my feelings time and time again. I’m apologising for saying we would only ever be friends. The last thing I want is for our relationship to be platonic.” 
Jeno was barely breathing. “What are you saying?” 
“I’m saying I love you too, Lee Jeno,” you mumbled and stood on your toes, cupping cheeks with your palms. “I’m saying I want you to kiss me.” 
The words didn’t register immediately, but his lips were on yours the moment they did. 
Jeno’s arm snaked around your waist, and he pulled you closer. His hand grabbed your neck from behind, and he tilted his neck to the side, deepening the kiss. 
Your breath hitched in your throat. All you could feel was him. Your nerve-endings were short-circuiting, and pure adrenaline was coursing through your veins. You didn’t think you’d ever been as satisfied and euphoric as you were right now.
Jeno’s lips slotted with yours perfectly. You smiled to yourself upon realising he tasted like chocolates. Your best friend always ate a piece before any event he deemed to be very important. He claimed they gave him good luck. 
Letting go of one of his cheeks, you grabbed the round collar of his shirt and pressed your mouth harder against his. The nights you’d spent wondering how kissing him would feel and then hating yourself immediately for having such thoughts amounted to this. 
You didn’t want to hold back. 
But you had to ask him a question. It didn’t matter how stupid or ridiculous it was; you wanted to know the answer. So, you broke the kiss and inquired with your body still tangled with his, “Why the hell did you agree to watch a rom-com with Jimin?” 
“Really?” he asked exasperatedly. “You wanna talk about Jimin while we’re making out?” 
“I wanna know why you watched a rom-com with her when I’ve been begging you to watch one with me for so long,” you corrected. 
Jeno was silent for a moment, as if contemplating whether or not to tell you. You raised an eyebrow. “Well,” he started, blowing out a breath. “She told me you set her up with me, and it pissed me off even more. I knew she’d tell you all about our date, so I suggested we watch a rom-com. I knew you’d be riled up once you realised.” 
You snorted. Who knew? You weren’t actually being a self-centred narcissist when you suspected the same. “You’re an idiot. I was already riled up you were going out with her.” 
“Oh, yeah?” he teased. “Why’d you encourage her in the first place then?”
“Honestly, at first, I thought I could use you to further my friendship with her,” you admitted. Jeno scoffed in disbelief. “Yeah, I know. That was kinda shitty of me. But when I realised I was falling for you, I pushed her to pursue you in an attempt to convince myself I was not into you. That obviously backfired and did the very opposite. I was horribly miserable. I wanted to shoot myself everytime I heard her gush about you.” 
He smirked. “She gushed about me?” 
“Oh, get over yourself.” You shoved his shoulder playfully. “How’d you end up here after your date? Jimin texted me that you were coming.”
“Tough, but I’ll try.” He laughed. “She was probably able to tell how disinterested I was. After the date when I dropped her home and hugged her instead of kissing her, she just confronted me and asked if I was in love with you. Then told me to not bother answering because it was obvious. She said she didn’t want to get in the middle of us and threatened to kick my ass if I didn’t come here to make amends immediately.” 
You grinned. “Oh, the things I would have done to witness that scene.” 
“It was scary.” Jeno frowned. “She hit my shoulder really hard when I said I was in love with you and called me an idiot for going out with her. I think she was angry at herself too for being oblivious to our situationship. It was one of the weirdest dates I’ve ever been on.” 
“Jimin actually said she had a great time with you. She told me it was nice.”
“Really?” he asked, sounding surprised. 
You placed a chaste kiss on Jeno’s mouth. “Hmm, I wonder how good the best date you’ve ever been on would be then.” 
He chased your lips and kissed you back deeply. Caressing your cheekbone with stars twinkling in his eyes, Jeno said, “I guess we’ll know when I take you out.”
“No way, are you officially asking me out on a date, Lee Jeno?” you asked, and let out a fake gasp. 
“Damn right I am,” he declared. “I don’t want the amusement park trip with our friends to be our first day out as a couple. Do you wanna grab some food tomorrow afternoon? We can go to the trampoline park before that.” 
You smiled softly. “That sounds wonderful. But,” you added. “No more flirting with restaurant staff for free food, or I’ll go ballistic on you.” 
Jeno laughed, and you thought it was the most beuatiful sound you had ever heard. His chest rumbled with the force of it, his eyes creasing to look like small crescent moons. Slipping his hand into yours, he squeezed once. 
“Wouldn’t even dream of it.” 
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note: THANK U FOR READING TILL THE END WHAT ??? loads of hugs and kisses :’)) also i know i said this before but posting after a rlly long time has lowkey made me anxious LOLL i think i could have done better with the fic esp the end bc it’s a little rushed. honestly speaking i am ready to move on to my next wip and i don’t wanna spend more time rewriting this one :(( i still love this piece though and i would definitely love to hear your thoughts amigos!! stay healthy and hydrated <33
thank you to mira for coming in clutch and helping me out with the plot when i was stuck + giving me her honest opinion! thank you to dori too for reading parts of this fic and giving me her opinion as well! i love you both :D
taglist: @notbeforelong​ @w3bqrl​ @rikiflowers​ @mochisnlix​ @allorysayshi​ @hiqhkey​ @angel-hyuckie​​ @j4kesworld​ @timetoten​ @vantxx95​ @sweetjaemss​​ @ahnneyong​ @jennaissantes @sunshine-skz​ @baekhyunstruly​ @ja4hyvn​ @ily-cuz-i​​ @kdyism​ @keemburley @n0hyuck @luvenshiti @donutswithjaminthemiddle @mosviqu @deobitiful @jeonnyread @pjofics @venusprada @matchahyuck @tbzussy @babyksworld @bockhyun @rbf-aceu @ablackbtsstan @tamakofever @naemakkuri @sadgirlroo @fariylixie0915 @pradagukkie @babyjenono @hibernatinghamster @jaemnationnn @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @carelessshootanonymous @nctzennikki09
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5K notes · View notes
itsjustaninchident · 7 months
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To the moon and to Saturn 🪐
Lando Norris x Model!Reader
socmed au
summary: where they give the audience chaos because of their rumored "breakup"
warning/s: sexual innuendos (if you squint)
author's note: just a little something to get me out of writing slump 🥹 there's a part 2 to this fic if you wanna check it out🫶
yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, lilymhe, and 203,839 others
yourusername busy week
view 2,394 comments...
user1 MOTHER IS MOTHERING
user2 PLEASE MARRY ME
user3 mother is living her best life and im here for it
user4 GET OUT OF THE WAY LANDO IM GONNA STEAL HER
user5 kinda sus no lando in the comments simping over how hot she is
user6 TRUE he usually comments and likes her post like a second after she posted it 😭
user7 there's got to be something
user8 no there's just something wrong in y'all's head...
user9 yeah leave them and their relationship alone
yourfriend back and better in black
liked by yourusername
user10 interesting...🥴
user11 what do they mean by this😭
user12 maybe because it's been awhile since yn got back in modeling after her supporting lando and going on a vacation with him?
user13 you guys are reading into this too much
lando.jpg
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liked by maxfewtrell, pierregasly, and 897,475 others
lando.jpg parties and a tad bit hungover...
view 23,495 comments...
user1 YOU CAN'T JUST POST THE 2ND PHOTO AND GET AWAY WITH IT
user2 i believe he's thirst trapping his way out of the issue
user3 what issue?
user2 some are saying him and yn broke up
user3 lol people are too obsessed with their relationship im not surprised we won't get any posts from them anymore lol
user2 true
maxfewtrell nice music but please don't throw up on me next time
maxverstappen1 why was i not invited
landonorris you were busy with something else🙄🙄🙄
maxverstappen1 oh i see you're still on it...
user4 am i delusional if i think this is about yn ?????
user5 babes im gonna be delusional with u
user6 yeah no❤️
user4 what if they just fought?
user6 what if you all leave them alone lol
danielricciardo nice party, hoping for that one more important invite next time😜
liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 237 others
user7 don't mean to ruin the vibes but where's my girl yn :((
yourusername
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liked by charlottesine, isahernaez, yourfriend, and 890,938 others
yourusername welcome to new york
view 23,103 comments...
user1 THE GIRLS ARE BACK
user2 THEY'RE SO HOT
user3 WAIT SHE'S IN NEW YORK???
user4 CAN'T BELIEVE MOTHER AND I ARE BREATHING THE SAME AIR
user5 im sorry but it's been like a month of them not posting each other😭
user6 it's been a bad month for us😭
user7 my parents :'(
user8 them in one frame is too much to handle
user9 uhmmm why is she hanging out with the exes????👀
user10 maybe because they're still friends and her girlfriends' breakups has nothing to do with their friendship???
user11 ikr... is she like a member of the club now?
user12 i hope not lol
isahernaez missed you so much! And im so happy for you❤️
liked by yourusername and 1,790 others
user13 her liking it...
user14 she's happy for her meaning she's like in a better place now????😭
user15 don't do this to me
user16 geez they cant even say anything that you guys do not to relate to her relationship lmao
via twitter...
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via instagram...
landonorris
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liked by carlossainz55, maxfewtrell, and 2,347,987 others
landonorris just married my best friend, the love of my life, and my better half. I love you until one can reach the sky.
tagged: yourusername
view 89,739 comments...
user1 WE WERE MOURNING THEIR "BREAK UP" ONLY TO BE WOKEN UP TO THIS POST😭
user2 this is my childhood bestfriends to lovers trope!
user3 no cause where's mine?!
user4 this is so much better than a black background and default font ig story announcement that they broke up😭
carlossainz55 i hope yn can make it through the night when she hears you snore
landonorris I don't snore!
carlossainz55 sure and birds cant fly
yourusername some birds can't
landonorris see???
yourusername but you do snore love
user5 IVE MISSED TIMES LIKE THIS😭
maxverstappen1 can't believe you got married before me
user6 you better watch your step mister, I'm literally right behind you.
landonorris 🫡 i would not dare
yourfriend oh yeah you'll never hear the end of it
yourusername stop threatening my husband😭
user7 "husband"😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 all of us are crying
lewishamilton congrats mate!
liked by landonorris, yourusername, and 72,309 others
yourusername
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liked by carmenmmundt, lilymhe, and 1,295,670 others
yourusername Love you to the moon and to Saturn❤️
tagged: landonorris
view 50,405 comments...
user1 no because you don't know how happy i am for them😭
user2 i can finally sleep in peace at night with a smile on my face knowing my parents literally got married
user3 i have never once cried over celebrity couples getting married but this😭
user4 kinda valid knowing how much they went through just to be where they are now😭
user5 from them being childhood bestfriends to being enemies to being best friends again and now they're married?!😭
user6 im so happy for them 🥺
lilymhe congrats love! just tell me if lando hurts you I will literally snatch you from him
yourusername you're first on my contacts
landonorris hey! no fair
charlottesine gotta admit i shed a tear seeing you walk down the aisle🥺 so happy for you!
yourusername love you cha!
user7 yn is so blessed with her husband and her friends🥺
user8 and they're very blessed with her too🥺 she's like the gentlest most loving person ever
liked by landonorris and 29,654 others
landonorris very lucky to have her as my wife
user9 THEY JUST CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF CALLING EO HUSBAND/WIFE😭
user10 im gonna bathe with my toaster
user11 gonna lay down on the road
yourusername awww are you trying to ask for more lasagna?
landonorris did it work?
yourusername nope :P maybe kisses will do for now?
landonorris never mind the lasagna, brb gonna get it you owe me about a hundred ;)
user12 not them flirting under the comments!!😭 Get a room!😭
user13 oh they're abt to
1K notes · View notes
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🧁🍥STOP BEING LAZY AND PATHETIC🧁🍥
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This post is my notes of Thewizardliz video on how to stop being lazy and pathetic. This account will be my digital notebook where I will write notes from Liz and Tam Kaur's videos ( LOL ) .
🧁WHO ARE LAZY PEOPLE ?
Lazy people are the forgotten ones. People that don't want to do anything with their lives, they will always end up on a sideline.
🍥REALIZE THAT NO ONE CARES IF YOU ARE LAZY
Everybody has problems. No one cares about your victim mindset and about how life was hard/ unfair for you. Life is unfair to everyone . Life goes on. Everyone is busy with their own lives. We got to get moving !
🧁YOU AREN'T LAZY , YOU ARE PRIVILEGED
People that need to survive have no option to be lazy . People that are walking up the stairs and they can barely breathe , they have no option anymore than to lose that weight. People that are so vulnerable and their bodies cannot handle of them being so underweight have no option but to lose weight. People that have to go to work otherwise there is no food on the table. They have no option to be lazy. If you have the option to be lazy, you are privileged.
🍥THE HALO EFFECT
The halo effect is when we see a beautiful person , we will think that they are less likely to do something bad because we associate someone beautiful with being a good person. Its the same way with successful person. If we see a successful person in any field , we will assume that they are successful in all their aspects of life. Suppose if a person have a successful business , we will automatically think that they are successful in their relationships and everywhere. If you are lazy , you can't benefit from the halo effect . It takes effort to be beautiful and to maintain beauty. We only see these successes , we don't see the progress. Most people are privileged and have it all but most people come from 0 and create it for themselves. It takes discipline.
🧁FOCUS ON YOUR LIFE FORCE : HEALTH , DIET AND RELATIONSHIPS
When you feel that you are lazy , focus on your life force . What is your life force ? Health and diet. Focus on moving your body and eat foods that don't spike your insulin and eat food that nourish your body. When you feel lazy or don't feel good , don't isolate yourself. Connect with your family and friends. Also focus on your relationship with yourself. What are you engaging your mind in ? Be connected to your own energy. Journal. Sometimes God or your guides are speaking to you but because your mind is constantly racing , you can't listen to them.
🍥CREATE ROUTINES AND STICK TO THEM
Humans need routines. You need a structurised routine. Sometimes we can't stick to routines but we need a base so we have something to go back to. I would like to add something here , I am reading a book by Brianna Wiest , it's called 101 essays that will change the way you think. There was line in the book . " As children, routine gives us a feeling of safety. As adults , it gives us a feeling of purpose ."
🧁CLEAN SPACE IS SELF RESPECT
Clean space is a clean mind. Not even cleaning after yourself is a sign of huge disrespect to yourself. Stop reading this and clean your room right now !!!!!
🍥THERE IS REASON WHY YOU MADE THAT COMMITMENT TO YOURSELF
Remember the reason . Remind yourself, " Why did I even start ? " " Why did I even want this goal ?" . If you don't want the goal anymore then do something else.
🧁THINK ABOUT WHAT STORY ARE YOU TELLING YOURSELF
If you are telling yourself that you are a lazy person , you will act like one. Your mom didn't carry you for 9 months just for you to say that you are lazy. Get a hold of yourself. Don't complain about how you don't have your dream life if you are lazy.
🍥REALISE YOU CAN CHANGE YOUR REALITY ANY SECOND
You can change your realities really fast if you start acting like the person you want to become.
🧁HEAL THE PAST AND MOVE ON
Go to therapy and heal from the past. You can change your story around . If you are a victim of trauma or abuse , don't just go around and tell people because they lose respect for you .
🍥YOUR BODY RESPONDS TO YOUR THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS
If you are constantly living in the past , reliving it , your body will make you ill. If you want a different outcome and different future, you have to do things differently. People around you don't need to change, you have the power to control that. You have the responsibility to heal yourself. What others did to you , it is on them . They will get their karma.
🧁ARE YOU LAZY OR DID YOU STOP PROGRESSING ?
People become happy when they start progressing. We constantly need that drive or something to strive for. Create a new project . Find a new hobby. Learn a new skill. Do something that you haven't tried before or pick something you used to love.
🍥TOO MUCH INFORMATION MAKES US LAZY
There is so much information on the internet to the point we don't know what to do. There are so many videos on the best diet , skincare or workout , we get consumed in other people's opinions and lives. We start filling their lives with our energy. ( Just a suggestion; you can search workout or skincare recommendations but at the end you should choose a diet or skincare or workout which suits you , not others )
🧁ARE YOU TOO CONSUMED IN OTHER PEOPLE'S LIVES ?
If you wonder to yourself : Why do I not have any energy left for myself ? Because you are too consumed in other people's lives so you aren't living your own.
🍥FEELINGS ARE NOT ALWAYS RIGHT
Feelings are just feelings. If we all just react to go out of emotions we would all unalive each other.
🧁ALLOW YOUR FEELINGS TO PURGE AND YOUR BODY TO HEAL.
Feelings purge by you feeling them. Release your emotions , don't suppress them . If you suppress those Feelings, they will get stored in your body and might show up later as physical illness. Sleeping is also healing. Let your body heal. Once that's done , get up and do something . Don't dwell there for too long.
🍥WHAT DO YOU FEEL VS WHAT DO YOU WANT ?
If you feel like eating unhealthy food but then you want your dream body. It doesn't correlate. You need to have discipline.
🧁COURAGE IS BEING VULNERABLE
Go outside and try to meet new people. Do something which you wouldn't normally do .
🍥LEARN TO ASK FOR HELP.
Learn to accept help. Sometimes God send people to help you. Ask help from God and you will receive help in miraculous ways.
🧁BE PRODUCTIVE ON YOUR OWN TERMS.
What does productivity look like for you ? What are your goals? Create that productivity mindset and visions. What works for others may not work for you.
🍥ARE THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU DRAINING YOUR ENERGY ?
If you have toxic people around you , you are constantly around them , you are going to feel bad. Distance yourself. No one can make you feel upset, you have the control over how you feel.
🧁CHANGE YOUR PERSPECTIVE ON SITUATIONS.
Most people are projecting their insecurities. Instead of feeling angry, have compassion for them. Similiarily , if you are going through a break up instead of thinking that they were the last person on earth. Think that your souls were meant to cross and then meant to separate. You learnt your lesson and they learn their lesson.Change your perspective on things .
🍥FOCUS ON THE THINGS YOU CAN DO
Think about three things you can do . What is your passion ? What makes you happy ? Who makes you happy ? Be grateful for these things. Realise that you can do alot and remind yourself of what you can actually do.
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armageddidnt · 8 months
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Welcome to My Collection of Random Thoughts during my nth* rewatch of Good Omens Season 2
*only amazon prime knows the exact number at this point but I’m fairly certain it’s in the double digits
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Episode 1: Gabriel’s fly lurking in the box when Aziraphale first takes it inside 👀
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Crowley’s promise of “two minutes” basically means that he’s been homeless and living in his car for the past 4 years strictly so that he can be within 2 driving minutes of Aziraphale at all times in case his angel needs him I’m not crying you are
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So here I think the key word is “fragile,” Crowley knows they are ostensibly safe from their respective sides but that could change at any moment so he’s basically spent the last 4 years in anxiety-ridden terror hovering as close to Aziraphale as he can to try and protect him from heaven, hell, and anyone else that would want to bring him harm after all that business they pulled in season 1 with stopping Armageddon
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Episode 2: I just happened to pause the episode while Aziraphale is lying to the angels about his miracle and LOL Michael really outdid himself here (Sheen, not the Archangel)
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Gabriel trying to swat flies and almost smashing the repository of every single one of his memories
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I’m cAckling
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So if Good Omens exists in Good Omens, does that mean Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett exist in Good Omens?? Do you think they based their Aziraphale and Crowley characters on Aziraphale and Crowley??
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Episode 3: So I’m trying to find any hints or foreshadowing of the Gabriel Beelzebub thing bc tbh I did kind of feel like it came out of nowhere which is really the only issue I have with them. I found this one scene where Beelzebub almost ?? seems to be concerned about Gabriel ?? But it’s blink and you miss it and there could be lots of other reasons why Beelzebub doesn’t want to fail in locating Gabriel (pressure from/leverage over heaven, etc) so idk
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More Foreshadowing Fly content 🪰
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Episode 4: So here we’ve seen that Shax can just appear inside the Bentley bc she did it earlier to talk to Crowley. Shax only pretended to be a hitchhiker so she could be invited in because Azirpahale was driving so technically she needed permission to cross the threshold of an angel 👀
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This scene will never not destroy me the 1941 flashback is the absolute sOFTEST thing ever to happen on this show
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We really need more context here I need to see the Crowley-Furfur Monkey Rides
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Episode 5: ahahaha thank you google translate for absolutely destroying my sanity this evening
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POP goes the Ziraphale
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Okay I know you can’t hear it in the gif but just before Nina takes Maggie’s hand, there’s a very quiet miracle noise, like Azirpahale literally MADE Nina dance with Maggie, he said I’m writing a Mina Jane-Austen-Ball-AU and my otp will KISS godDAMMIT
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Azirpahale seems lowkey kind of manic this whole scene tho, he’s controlling literally everyone to force Nina and Maggie together and whenever Crowley says anything that pokes holes in Aziraphale’s Magical Jane Austen Ball Fairytale, Aziraphale just straight up denies it. He wants Nina and Maggie to dance and he wants him and Crowley to dance and he refuses to acknowledge anything beyond that.
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Is this just Shax insulting Crowley for how much of a nuisance he’s been or a reference to his former status as an angel ???
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They’re both completely dismissive of each other when they’re trying to say something important and that’s the main issue they’ve been having this entire season tbh
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Episode 6: I think it’s funny that Crowley describes the angels as bees here because in the book, Neil/Terry describe humans the same way. Guess we have more in common than we thought huh?
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So the metatron was the one who originally decided Gabriel would be memory wiped and not sent to hell, and he was also the one that decided not to sound an alarm about Gabriel for some reason and said ‘just go find him yourself’ instead. The metatron has definitely got his own agenda and you can bet he doesn’t want Aziraphale up there in heaven because he’s a “leader” and he’s “honest” like that’s exactly what Gabriel was and look where it got him 👀
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There’s just something I can’t quite put my finger on about the metatron bringing Aziraphale a coffee from “give me coffee or give me death” and then asking Aziraphale if he’s going to take the coffee he’s giving him…
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I have not seen a single person talk about this since s2 came out but Nina literally calls Maggie “angel” because that’s the term of endearment they hear Crowley using for Aziraphale !!!! I’m still going fERAL over this and I can’t believe no one else is eitHER
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Something about this part of The Final Fifteen compared to this scene from the first episode is so representative of the entire season. Azirpahale keeps saying “my way or get out” and Crowley finally hits a wall and can follow Aziraphale no further. So he does just that. He goes.
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I’m sure a lot of us by now have seen this post that brings up how Aziraphale literally pushes the remains of Crowley into his mouth and swallows and it’s the only thing I see when I watch this now
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We still don’t know for certain if Crowley queued up this song to play on their way to the Ritz or if the Bentley started playing it all on its own and it’s driving me insane
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Basically how I am doing after my Truly-Alarming-Number-th watch of this traumatizing episode/season. WELP hope you enjoyed this garbage dump of my thoughts and feelings time to go cry for a bit again BYE
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moonstruckme · 7 months
Note
Hiiiii!!!! So, if you wanna write something, can you do poly marauders find out reader sleeps with like an almost concerning amount of plushies??? I literally sleep on a few plushies so I think it would be cute lol
Hi sweetheart, thanks for requesting!
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
You’ve been pouting all evening, ever since the boys had decided to watch a new comedy film over one of your chickflicks. You’re ganging up on me, you’d complained, and James felt a twinge of guilt but Sirius had only laughed. You’re damn right we are, sweetheart, because we watched that one just last week! You’d gone silent after that, but you’ve seemed vaguely sulky ever since, even when James brought you popcorn and tried to snuggle up with you under the blanket. 
“I’m gonna go to bed,” you say abruptly, standing and gathering your blanket about you. 
“Already?” James asks. “The movie’s only got like, twenty more minutes in it.” 
“That’s okay,” you yawn, stooping to give him a hug and kiss. “Goodnight.” 
“Goodnight, dovey,” Remus says as you kiss him too, then Sirius. “Sleep well.” 
James watches you go, unease growing like a fungus in his chest as you go into your room instead of one of theirs, the door shutting definitively behind you. 
“Prongs, hey.” He turns to find Remus looking at him, his brows scrunching just softly upwards. “Don’t worry about it, love, she’s alright.” 
“I know it’s silly,” he says, casting another glance down the hall, “but she just seemed so put out. And then she went to her own room.” 
“She doesn’t always want to sleep in ours.” Sirius shrugs. “Disappointing, but it doesn’t necessarily mean anything.” 
It’s true; you only sleep in one of your boyfriends’ rooms maybe half of the time, but this has always been a point of confusion for James. He and the other boys shuffle between rooms every night, and when you join them you seem to enjoy it as much as the rest of them do. Plus, it’s no secret that you love cuddles above all else, so why deprive yourself of them on such a regular basis?
James stands. “I’m gonna go check on her.”
“Suit yourself,” Sirius says, and Remus only nods, attention going back to the film. 
James sees blue light coming from underneath your door as he approaches, confirming his suspicion that you weren’t really tired enough to sleep when you’d left. He knocks softly. “Sweetheart? Can I come in?”
You don’t reply, and he hesitates briefly before cracking the door. For a moment, he wonders if you’re in here at all. He certainly can’t find you. The entire room is awash in blue light, your laptop screen on full brightness as the intro to the movie you’d wanted to watch earlier plays silently. Where you should be on your bed is instead half a million stuffed animals. Piles of them, from your headboard to the end of the bed, with little faces lit by the screen like they’re watching the movie, too. 
James draws closer, noticing your headphones plugged into the laptop, and follows the chord until he finds you, nestled so deeply in plushies that only your face is visible. He takes a second to relish the sight before waving a hand in front of the screen to get your attention. You startle, the movement sending a plushie tumbling off the bed and onto the floor. You lunge for it, disrupting even more of the toys, and James has to dam the avalanche with both hands, passing you the fallen stuffed animal—A penguin, he thinks to himself. How cute—while you take off your headphones. 
“Fuck, you scared me,” you say breathlessly, and James guffaws, hysterical laugher bubbling out of his chest. “What?”
“Just,” he marvels, shaking his head, “it’s surprising to hear that kind of language coming from someone absolutely buried in cuteness right now.” 
You sink further into the pile, and if the lighting weren’t so blue at the moment, he suspects your face would appear redder. 
“Jamie,” you say, quietly, hurriedly. “Jamie, don’t tell. Please?”
He’s just starting to wonder whether he’s even capable of keeping a secret as good as this when two pairs of footsteps start down the hallway. 
“What’s going on?” Sirius’ voice calls, a second before Remus flicks on the light and both boys go silent. James giggles, bringing his hand to his mouth in an attempt to smother the sound. Your face is indeed as flushed as he’d imagined, and you burrow further into your squishy fortress as if you could disappear into it entirely. 
“Baby,” Sirius says, sounding positively delighted, “where have you been hiding all of this?”
“I haven’t been hiding them.” Your voice is muffled by stuffing. “They just stay in my closet during the day. So my room doesn’t look cluttered.” 
“But why?” Sirius makes his way over to you, picking up a fox by your head. “This little guy is so charming. You’d deprive us of him?”
Despite Sirius’ honey-coated tone, you know what he’s about, and your eyes narrow defensively. 
“Dove,” Remus says slowly, fighting to keep his expression under control as his eyes glitter with amusement. “This is the most adorable thing I think I’ve ever seen.” 
You don’t look inclined to make a response, so James speaks again. 
“Is this why you don’t always want to sleep with us?” he asks, doing his best to gentle the teasing in his voice. “Because these guys are welcome in my room anytime if it means I get to be with you too.” 
You make your eyes big and sad in that way James swears you have to practice in the mirror. “Really? You don’t think it’s embarrassing?” 
James is finally free to unleash the full capacity of his smile. “Of course not, angel.”
“Well, maybe, like, a dozen of them,” Sirius says. “With more than one person, I think they’d all end up falling off the bed.” 
You look horrified. “I feel so guilty when that happens.” 
Remus makes a sound that’s half laugh, half coo. “Darling, you’re going to kill me with all this.” He gives you a look so syrupy sweet James feels his heart go all soft and mushy. “Please come finish the movie with us so I can give you a proper cuddle?”
“And bring some of your friends,” Sirius adds as you start to extricate yourself from the jumble on your bed. “Fuck, I’m never gonna get over this.”
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kamaluhkhan · 4 days
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COMPLICATED
LUST — part iv of we'll write sins like tragedies
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pairing: luke castellan x nemesis! reader (afab) word count: 8.9k summary: the lives of demigods are never simple. why would your relationship with luke be any different? or: four moments of tension + one moment of release. featuring a trip to montauk with percy, grover, and annabeth warnings: a decent amount of reader backstory (mention of dad having cancer); multiple POVs (percy, grover, annabeth, luke, reader - obv nothing suggestive/smutty until luke and reader POV); luke + reader get into arguments and are v stressed so their relationship is a bit strained; reader has tattoos; reader is on birth control; rough smut (protected + unprotected p in v, oral f+m receiving, biting, scratching, slight choking, slight breeding kink, etc...); also slight dark + possessive luke! (18 + MDNI); major angst — we all know how this story ends ;( author's note: this was meant to be a blurb but...here we are! this is basically another chapter of my spill ur guts series lol. i've been gone for much longer than i planned to, but hope u enjoy possibly the angstiest, smuttiest thing i've written so far ♡
♪ "complicated" by avril lavigne
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i. 
in the span of a few minutes, percy went from pure joy — being greeted with cheers from all the campers was great, sure, but truthfully the hug from annabeth alone sent him to elysium — to feeling like his heart dropped all the way to tartarus.
which is definitely not a place percy ever wants to visit again. he was happy to be back at camp with his friends, knowing that his quest was completed, his mom was safe in new york, and a war between the gods was prevented.
it should be over….but there’s something in the back of percy’s mind that’s telling him it isn’t. seeing a certain someone in the crowd earlier didn’t do anything to ease that feeling.
"can someone explain to me why clarisse is still here?" 
you raise an eyebrow at luke, and he shrugs in response.  it seems neither of you had decided who should break the news, and neither of you seem particularly excited to do so, even after dragging percy, along with annabeth and grover, into the empty hermes cabin for some privacy.
after another beat of silence, you take the lead.
“look, kid, i know you and clarisse got off to a rocky start —”
“she tried to drown me, and then basically kill me during capture the flag,” percy points out. he hears an ocean roaring at the memory, but that could have also been from his duel with clarisse’s dad, the god of war, more recently.
a duel that percy had won, for the record. luke trained him well.
“and i’m not defending that,” you clarify. “i’m just saying that we’ve known clarisse for much longer. she’s not perfect, maybe a bit aggressive sometimes — trust me, she and i have had some major disagreements, too — but i can’t see her doing something like this.”
“why would anyone at camp want to steal the bolt? to join kronos’ army against the gods?” annabeth wonders. to herself or to the group, percy isn’t sure, but he has a feeling that the wheels in her mind are turning.
“revenge, maybe?” grover suggests. 
almost instinctively, grover glances at you, and so does annabeth. percy wants to kick himself for doing the same. 
with you being the daughter of nemesis, he imagines that it's not the first time you’d been blamed for something just because of who you are. it’s a feeling percy knows all too well. and, for better or for worse, like percy, it seems like you’re not one to accept these things without a fight.
you straighten your shoulders, ready to snap back, but before you can, luke declares:
“it’s not her.”
he then knocks the toe of his shoe against your combat boot. you smile and return the gesture. the tension eases out of the room.
for a second, percy wonders if he’ll ever have someone like that: someone to defend like it’s second nature, to share that sort of secret language with, to smile at him like nothing else in the world matters. 
according to annabeth, the two of you weren’t technically dating — but percy is pretty sure that aphrodite is swooning over you. 
“see, grove? if camp half-blood’s golden boy can vouch for me, then i’m in the clear.” your tone is playful enough — no hard feelings — but the tips of grover’s ears still turn red. “i didn’t steal the bolt. sure, the gods and titans can tear each other apart for all i care — " 
annabeth stiffens at your bold statement, and grover starts to nervously chew on an empty diet coke can he had stashed in his pocket. luke watches you with the hint of a smile on his face, and percy —
well, percy can’t help but admire you even more. 
"— but it's everything else that i have an issue with.”
“everything else?”
you look at percy like the answer is obvious. 
“when have the gods ever fought their battles without us as collateral damage? doesn’t seem worth it to me, to betray my friends.” 
that itch in the back of percy’s brain gets harder to ignore.
“the oracle warned me, betrayed by a friend.” 
“prophecies don't always come true,” annabeth reminds him. “at least not in the way we expect them to.” 
“annie is right,” luke adds, nodding at his sister. “mine didn't. the oracle said i would die a hero.” 
you turn to luke then, your eyebrows furrowed. 
“what? you never told me that.” 
“it doesn’t matter,” luke insists. “my point is that i came back from my joke of a quest, alive and a definitely not a hero —”
“fuck what the oracle said.” you roll your eyes. “dead or alive, you are a hero, tiger.”
you move to place a hand on luke’s arm. to percy’s surprise, though, luke brushes you off.
“i’m not a hero. at least not the one my dad expects me to be.”
again, percy is taken aback by how luke snapped, at you of all people. you huff, and percy can tell that you’re a bit agitated now, too. 
“okay, but that doesn’t mean —”
“my point is.” luke turns to percy, effectively blocking your presence for the time being. “you completed your quest, fought a god, and stalled kronos’ plan. you’ve been through it — all three of you have — but now you’re back. let’s just enjoy the rest of our summer, yeah? whatever happened out there, whatever the oracle said, it’s in the past.”
percy wants to believe luke, he really does. one glance in your direction, and it seems like you do, too.
deep down, though, percy isn’t entirely convinced. there’s that dread in the pit of his stomach, that voice in the back of his head. something in him, warning that this isn’t quite over. the worst has yet to come.
he wonders if — or maybe just hopes — you feel the same.
ii.
if you of all people can’t get luke’s attention, grover is pretty sure that the world is ending.
“luke,” you try again, foregoing your usual nickname for him. your arms are crossed and you tap your foot against the floor. it makes grover slightly anxious, feeling your frustration threaten to boil over.
“i’m busy,” he grunts, and flips over another page, scribbling something on the other side. 
“grover wanted to talk to us about something.”
“i-it’s fine, we don’t have to —”
“no, it’s a good idea, grove,” you insist. you smile at grover then. he remembers that, despite the deadly glares you can deliver, like the one you were just giving luke, you have a gentle core. you just guard it behind sharp edges. 
“tell him that i’ll talk to him later.”
“or, you could tell him yourself,” you huff. grover waves awkwardly, even though luke doesn’t realize what’s happening. “he’s right next to me.”
luke looks up briefly, and then back down at the pages in front of him just as quick. he looks tired, exhausted even. 
“sorry, man. didn’t see you there. i gotta finish these reports.”
“no worries. i tend to be quiet on my hooves.”
in the moment of silence that follows, and with luke still not giving you the attention you’re asking for, you walk over to the desk where luke is working. what you see seems to make you even more annoyed than before.
“these reports are for september. why in the name of nemesis are you filling them out now?”
“i just want to be prepared.”
“prepared for what?”
luke hesitates. “just….the future.”
“oh!” you laugh, sharp and sarcastic. “i didn’t realize that the future required you to neglect your friends.”
“i’m trying to help my friends,” luke huffs. he taps his pen impatiently against the desk. “if you didn’t keep interrupting me —”
“oh my fucking gods — ”
grover watches the two of you argue. it had been easier to step in whenever something bubbled up between annabeth and percy, because they were just kids. but you and luke — you were adults. 
when grover met luke for the first time, he was already taking on way too much responsibility for a kid — keeping thalia and annabeth alive, protecting them from monsters, taking care of them. in a lot of ways, those responsibilities didn’t go away: as a senior counselor and resident older brother, a hero for the older campers to admire and the younger kids to aspire to be. camp half-blood’s golden boy, as you liked to call him. 
and, like you, luke is good at hiding. for him, its heavy burdens behind easy-going smiles. 
lately, though, those smiles seem to be strained, his shoulders slowly bending under the weight of it all. the other day, grover asked you if everything was okay with luke. you had looked back at him sadly, shrugged, and said you didn’t know.
that’s when grover decided that everyone just needs a break — an escape. he had been sensing that things weren’t quite right with the others, too. percy seems a little on edge, and so does annabeth.
then, of course, there was you and luke. finding out that the two of you had actually started dating was huge news for someone like grover who had painstakingly watched the two of you dance around your feelings for years. so, it was more than a little weird that you’d barely been speaking this past week. the rare occasion you did was tense at best, and explosive at worst. 
like now, when you pick up one of the reports luke was working on, and threaten to burn it. luke dares you to do so, even suggests, albeit sarcastically, that you use it as your next offering to the gods. 
“oh, a handwritten document from luke castellan himself? they would love that,” you snort. “admit it: you’re doing all of mr. d’s work just to suck up to some gods who don’t even give a shit about any of this. you’re practically olympus’ lapdog.”
luke, blushing a furious shade of red, gets up and yanks the paper from your hand.
“at least my parent is important enough to actually have a seat on olympus and an actual cabin for his kids to stay in.”
you look like you could just about throw luke into a fire, and vice versa. grover had never seen the two of you like this, but it made sense: each of you knowing just where, and how, to hurt the other.
and, he thinks it’s about time to step in before the damage is irreversible. so, grover starts slowly clapping. the clapping gets faster, and he manages to get through the first few lines of the consensus song before you stop him.
“alright, alright,” you sigh. you push past luke, steal his chair, and put your feet up on the desk. luke scowls at you, but you put your hands up in surrender and jut your chin out towards grover. “just listen to what grover has to say and then we’ll let you get back to your precious reports.”
grover tells luke his idea. luke actually agrees, and grover can’t help but feel a little bit of a victory. 
he’s a protector, after all. it’s his job to make sure you’re all alive and happy and thriving. and not burnt to a crisp over some petty argument.
iii. 
annabeth had missed home when she was away on their quest, but being back and seeing everyone being taught to worship the gods without question, to believe that the only things that matter are power and glory….well, after everything that happened, after percy, annabeth can’t just go back to doing the same. at least not entirely. 
all this to say, she was totally on board with grover’s idea: the five of you, renting a cabin in montauk to get away from camp for a bit.
unfortunately, the trip starts off less than ideally. you and luke bicker the entire way here — and not the playful jabs you usually throw at each other. 
annabeth remembers the first time she saw you together. it was during breakfast, their first morning at camp half-blood. annabeth had spent the night trying not to cry over thalia, and already missing luke even though he was only a few cabins away. she was still a kid, surrounded by strangers, told that she was safe now, but didn’t quite believe it yet. one look to luke at the hermes table, and annabeth could tell he felt the same way, too — not quite settled in this new place that was supposed to be home, and with these people who were supposed to be family.
she watched as the hermes table went to burn offerings to the gods. when they sat down again, luke looked even more unsettled than before.
but then, you leaned in and whispered something in luke’s ear, and he actually laughed, just a bit, which was a nice change of pace. luke was always the one making annabeth and thalia laugh when they were running from monsters, always the one trying to keep everything together with a smile or a joke.
as she devoured her breakfast, annabeth couldn’t help but keep glancing at the two of you. she heard warnings from her half-siblings, about your mother being the goddess of revenge, and you living up to that name. 
luke either didn't know, or didn't care about whatever reputation you had. sitting there, next to you, annabeth didn’t think she’d ever seen luke so, genuinely happy, so at ease.
all these years later, neither you nor luke seemed particularly happy. you’re obviously avoiding each other, and annabeth doesn’t understand why.
you and luke are a new puzzle that she can’t wait to solve. 
annabeth had finished constructing the most elaborate sandcastle in history, just for percy to accidentally splash it when he was trying to surf a wave; so she decides that playtime is over. it’s time to figure out what exactly is going on between you and luke.
luke is in the cabin doing gods know what. you're on the deck painting your nails, so annabeth decides to start gathering information from you, first. 
“hey." you finish painting your pinky a dark purple, and set the bottle down next to you. "having fun?”
annabeth nods once and sits next to you. she asks if you could paint her nails, and you pull out a bottle of silver polish you said you thought she might like. 
as you work, careful with each stroke of polish, annabeth surveys the tattoos on your skin. you’re wearing a bikini top, so there are some that she’s seeing for the first time. there's one of a knife on your sternum, and annabeth distinctly remembers seeing a similar one peeking from underneath the collar of luke’s shirt. she wonders when you got it, if you had to travel to a tattoo parlour in the city, how many other adventures you'd gone on without having to consult the oracle beforehand. 
maybe that’s a good place to start. 
“have you ever thought about leaving camp? like, long term?" 
"sometimes," you admit. "it would be nice to have some normal early-twenties experiences."
"would you go to school?"
you smile as you keep painting annabeth’s nails. “maybe. i might have seen legally blonde too many times, but i think about law school sometimes.” 
“what about luke?”
your smile fades at the question. “i...i don’t know." your once precise nail-painting falters, and you mumble a curse when a drop of silver lands on annabeth's skin. you swipe it away before continuing. "luke's one of those people i can't really see away from camp half-blood for too long; pretty sure it would burn down without him. there's a reason he feels responsible for everyone there...in a way i respect, obviously, but, it's not the same for me. nobody needs me."
"luke needs you."
you sigh, and annabeth wonders if you even realize how you shake your head slightly. she thinks you're about to disagree with her, but instead you ask: 
“what's this about, annie? are you thinking about your dad’s offer?”
and annabeth’s completely thrown off her line of inquiry. 
“how did you —”
“perce told me that you’ve been talking about staying with him for the year,” you explain. you gesture at annabeth to give you her other hand, and she complies. the silver polish on the hand you just finished glitters in the sun. 
“well, nothing’s confirmed.”
you look up at annabeth, one eyebrow raised. “it's okay, you know — if you just wanna….be a kid for a bit.”
annabeth is silent, prompting you to ask another question.
"what's holding you back?"
“well….at first, i thought it would be a definite no,” annabeth admits. “obviously, it didn’t work out last time. i don’t know if i want to risk it again — if i can trust him, you know? how do i know he actually cares —  that he’ll be there for me when i need him?”
“you don’t.” you pause for a second. “but i’m gonna tell you a story that i think might help.”
you're done painting her nails, so you put everything away. you sit cross-legged next to annabeth, looking out at the ocean.
“my dad never wanted me to go to camp. he wanted to raise me in the city, just like he’d grown up. he’d take me to rock concerts all the time. i was so young, he’d make me wear earmuffs and carry me on his shoulders so that i could still see the band.” you smile softly at the memory. “and then….my dad got sick, he couldn’t take care of me, and monsters started to show up, so he brought me to camp for safe keeping." 
"you've told me all this," annabeth remarks. 
you start fiddling with your camp necklace. annabeth isn't used to seeing you so unsure, so nervous; it throws her off even more. 
"what i haven't told you is that even when my dad got better, he….he didn’t give me a choice of where to stay.”
"oh," is all annabeth can say. 
“yeah, oh," you scoff, but there’s not really any malice behind it. you seem…sad. defeated, almost. your fingers move to play with the hem of your shorts, which causes the fresh nail polish to smudge. you don’t seem too concerned about that at the moment, though. "i told everyone that i chose to stay. the truth is that i stayed because my dad didn't want me anymore. he said that the universe gave him a second chance, so he wanted to live his life without having to worry about monster attacks or taking care of his teenage daughter."
annabeth wonders if luke knows the truth about this; though, considering how difficult it seems for you to admit, she doubts it. 
before, annabeth had a theory that you decided to stay at camp because of luke.
luke was away when you got the news that your dad was in remission. annabeth remembers how happy you were, how excited you were to be back in the city and living with your dad again. you started packing right away.
when luke came back from his failed quest, you had just gone into the city the day before, having promised to visit in the summer and stay in touch. someone – chris maybe, or beckendorf — must have called you, told you what happened, because you came back to camp right away, your bag still fully packed. you never left again. 
"that sucks."
“yeah.” you let out a hollow, breathy laugh. “and, i was angry at first. of course i was. but now, i don’t know. i think that maybe my dad does care about me. like, he still sends me mixtapes with old punk rock songs he thinks i’d like. he actually calls me on my birthday, and we have a 3 minute conversation about nothing important." 
"right…" annabeth furrows her brows. this conversation had definitely not gone as planned. "no offense, but what's —"
"i'm getting to the point," you tell her, bumping your shoulder against hers.  "i realized that sometimes people can only love us in a way that works for them — and it sucks. it really, really sucks. but then sometimes…. sometimes people do actually try. and, i don’t know, it seems like maybe your dad is willing to try.”
“so you think i should take him up on his offer.”
the sun starts to set. you get up, brush sand off your legs. 
“i think it's time for a swim. i also think that you’re smart enough to know what’s best for you, and who deserves a second chance. just know that whatever you decide — we’ll be there for you.”
you leave without another word, but with the return of your usual confident smile, off to the shore to take advantage of the last bits of daylight. 
"she's right, annabeth." luke appears a few seconds later, takes the spot next to annabeth you had just occupied.
annabeth hums.
"how much of that did you hear?" 
luke doesn't answer. he just stares at your form, disappearing in the distance and diving under the waves.
iv.
you clear your throat and luke turns around to see you freshly showered. you’re wearing a pair of shorts and one of the oversized band tees the two of you constantly exchange. you've lost track of whose is whose at this point.
luke resists the urge to shamelessly check out your legs, and turns his back towards you once again. that bikini top you were wearing earlier was bad enough. thankfully, the heat from the stove was enough to cover up his blushing cheeks at the sight of your exposed skin. 
“i thought we were ordering pizza,” you say, moving to peer over his shoulder, chin hovering just above. luke had the sense that you were avoiding physical contact, and as much as it drives him crazy, he knows that he’s the one who’d dug his own grave. pushing you away and whatnot. 
“didn’t know that you knew how to cook.”
“not much,” luke shrugs. he keeps stirring the vegetables — broccoli and carrots and baby corn. he’ll add the red peppers once the broccoli turns green so that they don’t become too soft. he’s pretty sure that’s how he remembers it going.
“i could have helped you.” you reach over and hand him the peppers right on time. you shift to lean your back against the counter next to the stove, arms crossed over your chest and eyes following luke. 
luke throws in the chicken he cooked earlier, and then the sauce he had also mixed. he waits a few seconds, lets the sound of everything sizzling fill the space between you. 
“it’s an easy recipe.” luke turns off the stove to punctuate his point. 
and it had to be. something quick he’d make with his mom after she had one of her episodes, before waking up and realizing that she had a son to feed. the sounds, the colors, the smells — it all, overwhelmingly, reminds him of a childhood he once had. one that was never as simple as the food he just made.
none of the bitterness in his throat is caused by his mom, of course. just his father who calls himself a god, and left them both alone to fend for themselves. 
you start getting out plates from the cupboards as you ask: “where are the kids?”
luke checks the pot on the stove to see if the rice is cooked. “told them to go rent something from the video store.” 
“they went alone?”
“they’ve literally been to hell and back,” he replies and sits down at the table. “i think they can handle a blockbuster.”
“i don’t care if they get attacked by monsters,” you state, setting down the last plate in front of him. “i know they can handle themselves. they just better choose a good movie.” 
luke doesn’t mean to snort, but he can’t help but remember all the arguments you’d gotten in with chris over your tastes in movies. 
 “don’t laugh, castellan. i’ve saved movie night on more than one occasion and i’ve never gotten so much as a thank you.” you roll your eyes, but luke notices the ghost of a smile.
it fades just as quickly as it appeared, and luke already misses the small moment of levity that’s passed. 
“what’s been going on with you, tiger?”
you hold his gaze, and luke knows that you’re hoping for a real answer, for the truth he can’t give you. 
“nothing,” he answers instinctively. 
“don’t give me that,” you sigh and turn away from him, returning to your position against the counter. 
“i said it’s nothing,” luke insists, a bit more assertively. “why can’t you just believe me?”
“because you’ve been distant, moody.” your tone is sharper now, too. “you’ve been avoiding me. you’ve barely been eating. the side of your bunk has been empty, which means you haven’t been sleeping, either. gods, i can’t even remember the last time you kissed me —”
“you’re really mad at me because we haven’t fucked?” 
it’s a low blow, and he delivers it as if he hadn’t missed seeing you underneath him. or on top, or beside. luke isn’t picky. 
“you’re impossible!” you groan, and cover your face with your hands. you take a deep breath  before returning to glare at luke. “do….do you not want to be together, anymore? because if that’s what’s happening, i’ll survive. we can go back to being friends.” you clench your jaw to make up for the tremble behind your question. always a tough face, even in the face of potential heartbreak.
of course, luke knows you’ll be fine without him. he’s the one who might have difficulty surviving when you part ways.
“that’s not —” luke sighs and runs a hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze. “that’s not it.”
“then what is it?”
“noth—”
“i will send you to elysium if you tell me it’s nothing one more time, because i know it’s not!” you’re shouting now. “i might not know what it is, but i know you well enough to tell that something is bothering you. so i’m asking you, one more time, what is going on?”
the thing is, luke can’t tell you — about what he’s done, about who he’s aligned himself with. he can’t lie to you, either, at least not to save his life.
so, he’s basically stuck in whatever the greek mythology version of limbo is. 
for now, he’s saved by percy, annabeth, and grover, who walk in with a stack of DVDs and armfuls of movie snacks. 
dinner is fine, especially with the kids providing a good enough buffer. luke even catches you smiling and laughing along with them a few times. you approve of their choice in movies, starting with mulan. it’s one of luke’s favorites, too, but he can’t help but let his attention wander. 
the two of you have known each other for a long time. luke has felt your anger. he’s felt your frustration. you’ve been on opposing sides of explosive arguments, of brutal sparring matches. 
but, despite everything, luke’s never been hated by you. it’s unavoidable, given what he’s done and the path he’s on; it's just not something he's particularly eager to feel.
working for kronos….luke won't pretend he regrets it. something had to be done, to take back the poisonous world the gods created. 
he did it for you, even if you won't understand.
he'd do anything for you.
so, for now, he’s willing to endure the daggers you stare at him from the other side of the couch. 
v. 
in another life, you might have taken advantage of the queen bed and private room. both hard to come by at camp half-blood, if you’re not willing to risk zeus’ wrath for the latter.
gods, it feels like forever since you and luke snuck into cabin one because couldn’t keep your hands off each other, curses and lighting strikes be damned. 
you almost wish lightning would strike — at least then the bed would be warm. 
“i can feel you being mad at me,” luke whispers. 
“sorry, thought you’d already be gone by now,” you respond, sarcasm dripping through your words. “off to see whoever else you’d rather sleep with.”
“so, you are mad because we haven’t fucked in a while.”
a stupid slip of the tongue. you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and your entire body feels on fire for giving him any leverage on you. that was definitely not the warmth you were hoping for. 
“whatever,” you mumble, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed, your back still towards luke. 
for the record, you’re mad because of whatever distance luke was forcing between you, or whatever wall he was putting up, for a reason you don’t understand. you’d always known luke well, but lately you haven’t been able to read him. 
and, sure. maybe you are…. frustrated. the two of you hadn’t been intimate in a while, yes, and your fingers are nothing compared to luke’s, but more than that: you just miss actually feeling him close to you. in any sense. 
you’re not sure how much time passes, and there’s nothing but silence. then, you hear his voice again, gentler than before, no cocky attitude laced through. 
“you never told me about your dad.”
ugh. of course, luke had overheard your conversation with annabeth earlier. damn those sly hermes’ genes.
you stay silent to give off the illusion that you’d fallen asleep, but luke doesn't fall for it. 
“we’ve shared a bunk for years, karma. i can tell when you’re not sleeping.” 
you pause for a few more seconds, but you know that luke is persistent.
“it didn’t matter,” is all you offer before he asks again.
“it did,” luke insists. “why didn’t you tell me?”
“it’s not like we tell each other everything,” you scoff. “like, why didn’t you tell me about that prophecy? and why won’t you tell me whatever’s going on with you now?”
“that’s….that’s different.” 
“not really. i bet that it’s all for the same reason.”
“which is?”
 you debate telling luke the truth. 
it was no surprise that you had a certain reputation around camp: cunning, hot-tempered, brash. you were fine being the angry girl whose mother wasn’t enough of a god to warrant a cabin, but enough of a threat to be wary of. you didn’t want to be the one who was also dropped by her father, unwanted and too much of a burden. so, you swallowed the reality of the situation; pretended that nothing broke your heart, and that nothing ever would.
“i didn’t want you to look at me differently,” you admit. 
another pause, this time from the other side of the bed. 
“if it makes you feel better, i was glad that you stayed.”
you can’t help it; you let out a sardonic laugh.
“that’s not much of a comfort, since you haven’t seemed very thrilled with me lately.”
“that’s not….” luke falters. “i just mean that i don't know who i’d be if you left.”
in spite of the situation, the ongoing tension between you, you find yourself smiling. 
“always so dramatic,” you tease.
deep down, you know you’re not much better.
luke was part of the reason you might have stayed at camp, anyways. he was the reason why you didn’t fight harder to get back to your old life, and you always did like a good fight.
it was scary though, that one person had so much power over you and didn’t even know it. you tried to convince yourself that you stayed because luke had needed you, after his quest and everything. but, once you’d known how it felt to have luke in your life, you didn’t want to go back to a time you didn’t. 
truthfully, it still scares you.
“i don’t like fighting with you,” you admit softly, swallowing a lump in your throat. “especially when i don’t even know why we’re fighting in the first place.”
you wonder if you’d just thought that instead of saying it out loud because luke doesn’t respond, until you hear the sheets behind you shuffle, and feel luke position himself behind you.
"i'm sorry that we're fighting. it's my fault."
he settles a tentative hand on your exposed hip, where your shirt had ridden up. luke starts to trace circles onto your skin with his thumb, the way he sometimes does when he's nervous or having a bad dream.
"i’ve just been so….in my head. i don't want you to worry about what's going on with me, okay?
"luke —"
"i have to sort it out on my own.”
"you don’t, though,” you insist. “if you just tell me what’s going on, instead of pushing me away.”
another pause. you can feel him breathing down your neck, and in turn you inhale the spicy citrus of his body wash. it’s all so excruciatingly familiar as you wait for him to say something, anything. 
eventually, luke sighs, deeply, and confesses:
"it's just….we've known each other for so long, but this — us? so much of it is new. i don't want to fuck it up." 
"well, congratulations," you quip. "you're one step closer to getting there."
you meant it as a joke, something to lighten the mood, but you feel luke stiffen at your words, his grip on your hip becoming almost painfully tight as if he's worried you'll slip away.
"i'm kidding, tiger." you weave your fingers through his to loosen his hold on you, and reassure him even more that you're not going anywhere, any time soon. "for better or for worse: you’re mine, and i'm yours. no matter how much either of us might fuck it up."
luke shuffles closer, and you melt into him even more. 
"do you really mean that?"
his voice is soft, surprisingly timid. you crane your neck back to look at him; luke stares at you, his gaze heavy enough to take your breath away. 
“of course.” 
you're so close, and you hadn't been in so long. luke's leg is somehow lodged in between your thighs, and you bite back a whimper as he brushes against you. you feel him behind you, already half-hard, and you rub your ass against him slightly, causing a groan to vibrate through his body. 
neither of you have to do much to crash your lips together.
you can sense how luke’s been unraveling, from the kiss alone. his lips are chapped, rough against yours and already bleeding from the pressure; his stubble scrapes against your cheek, and you’re dizzy with anticipation, imagining how it will leave a stinging sensation on other areas of your skin when luke has his way with you later. 
for now, you focus on your mouth on his: teeth clacking together, your tongue laving over the cut on luke’s bottom lip and tasting copper. luke brings a hand up to your jaw, pushing you into his mouth even more. 
it’s like the first time you kissed. all consuming. messy. urgent — like you've already run out of time. 
eventually, you have to pull yourself away from his grasp, your neck straining at the uncomfortable angle. luke takes the opportunity to suck bruises onto your neck while he presses his thigh harder against your cunt. he slips his other hand further underneath your shirt, cupping your breast and pinching your nipple between his fingers.  instinctively, you start rutting against him. 
“f-fuck,” you groan, relishing in the muscles of his naked thigh underneath you, defined and strong. 
luke chuckles, and you feel his breath warm against your skin. 
“you missed me that much, hm?” he taunts, encouraging you to go faster, harder. “you’re gonna cum before i even have a chance to undress you. doesn’t seem fair to me.”
“who —” your breath catches when luke’s hand settles around your throat, pulling you impossibly closer to him. you feel the outline of his abs against your lower back, and his length, hard and waiting. it’s difficult to finish your thought, but you try your best. “who says i only have to cum once?”
“that sounds like a challenge,” luke decides. “what’s our record — three? think we can beat that tonight?”
you laugh, already out of breath. “i think we can do it.”
“good girl.”
your thighs clench at the nickname, and it's one down, a few more to go. 
you maneuver luke so that he lays flat on the bed, your legs on either side of his hips. your hands fumble with the edge of his shirt, and he lets you remove it without any more hassle.
it's a little ironic, really, how much you and luke hate the gods — because looking at him underneath you, you're sure that something divine must have created him, and you have to thank them for it. sharp jaw, deep scar, flushed cheeks; curls slightly askew, and skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat; that cocky smile — you'd worship luke castellan over any of the olympians. 
secretly, of course, you pretty much already do.
"like what you see?" luke smirks up at you, hands firmly on your ass.
you roll your eyes to save face. "come on, tiger, like you're not seconds away from tearing through your boxers." 
luke clicks his tongue, locks his calf around yours to switch your positions. you grunt as your back hits the mattress, but you very much appreciate the force and weight of luke above you. he practically rips off your shirt, then starts to nip and suck down your body. he kisses the fabric still covering your cunt, and you can feel his chuckle vibrate through your body when he encounters the wetness there. 
"i'm not the one who already ruined their underwear," luke teases as he finishes undressing you. he pauses at the sight of you, bottom half completely exposed. you're about to tell him to hurry the fuck up, but then luke spits onto your already soaked cunt and says: 
“i need to clean you up, baby.” he gives you another cheeky grin, teeth glowing like the cheshire cat, before diving in.
luke is skilled at everything he does, so of course he's quick to unravel you once more, this time with a persistent combination of tongue and teeth, lapping at your cunt like it's his last meal. 
as soon as you're done riding out your high, you yank luke by the leather cord around his neck to collide your lips with his again. 
you reach down to return the favor, snake your hand underneath the fabric of his underwear, and you're deeply satisfied to find him already sticky with his release.
“you already finished,” you tease, stroking his v-line. "and ruined your underwear without me even touching you." 
in the dim light of the moon, you can barely make out luke blushing. he hides his face in the junction between your neck and shoulder. 
“guess we’re both desperate, huh.” luke’s teeth graze your skin, his curls tickling your neck. “i need to be inside you, now, so how about you get on your hands and knees for me? i’ll get the condom.”
sometimes, luke tries to be gentle — but not this time. 
this time, he fucks you, hard and fast and deep. 
you love it, even if you might not be able to walk properly tomorrow.
with so much power behind each thrust, and the overwhelming pleasure, your arms threaten to give out, but luke catches you before you fall. he wraps a hand around your neck, bringing you flush against his chest as he continues to plunge his length into you. 
"listen to me," luke growls. he snakes a hand down to rub harsh circles on your clit. "the one thing the gods did right is make this perfect, tight little pussy of yours. you were fucking made for me, weren't you?" 
all you can do is whimper, closing your eyes at his filthy, sinful words. 
you aren't used to luke being so possessive, and certainly not in these past few weeks. it's making your head spin in the best way. you can feel your orgasm build in the pit of your abdomen.
"were you made for me?" luke asks again. he squeezes your neck slightly, and you gasp at the pressure. "answer me, or i'll stop." 
you don’t think it’s likely he’ll stop; you’re sure he’s just as lost in the sound of your cunt squelching and the feeling of you sucking him in. but, he does slow down, only a little bit, and it's enough for you to start whining.
"y-yes, luke."
"are you mine?"
you don't answer fast enough. luke stills his hips completely and you almost burst into tears.
you moan, trying to move against him in vain. luke keeps a firm grip on you, making it hard to cause any sort of friction between your bodies.
"i'm yours," you promise.
luke plants a firm kiss behind your ear. “that’s my girl,” he whispers darkly.
satisfied, luke resumes his pace. he moves the hand around your neck to your chin, angling you accordingly so he can crash his lips onto yours. 
it doesn't take long to feel the tension in your abdomen snap, wetness gushing out of you. exhausted, you collapse onto the mattress. luke slips out of you.
the next few seconds consist of you trying to bring yourself back down to reality after such a high. 
luke turns you around just to face him as he hovers over you. he lodges his hand behind your ear and taps your cheek to get your attention. your eyes flutter open.
“did you just —” 
the dampness between your legs, and on the sheets underneath you, is enough evidence: you just squirted.
"i….” you gulp, feeling yourself flush. “i’ve never done that before."
luke stares at your glistening cunt. you wonder if you should be embarrassed, but then he locks eyes with you. you've never seen them so dark, pupils almost fully blown, just a sliver of brown showing through.
"you’re so fucking hot."
your heart flutters. 
“you’re not too bad yourself, tiger, or i wouldn’t be in this mess.” you wink at him, still trying to catch your breath. your eyes wander lower. you note luke in the current state he’s in; you realize that the scales are nowhere near balanced. “that’s three for me, and only one for you. let me taste you.” 
he doesn't need to be told twice. you get on your knees once more, this time facing him as he kneels in front of you. luke rips off the condom, something to deal with later, and you take him in your mouth, cheeks hollowed and tears brimming your eyes feeling him fuck your throat. when he finishes, you swallow him whole, savoring every drop. he pulls you up for a kiss; you can still taste yourself on him, and it mixes with his new release, a combination that is more than a little intoxicating. 
“fuck,” luke mumbles as he pulls away. he swipes his thumb over the corner of your mouth where some of his cum dribbled out. “i know that was intense, but would you be up for another round? "
"yeah," you reply without a second thought, reaching up to thread your fingers through his curls to ground yourself. 
maybe you should thank artemis for the full moon tonight, giving you just the right amount of silver light to illuminate the sculpted curves and edges of luke's body. his skin is also littered with bruises and bites of your design, chaotic and beautiful. luke looks like a mess, just as you're sure you do. 
you want more. you need more.
"we gotta go for four, remember? but...maybe we, uh…"
"....slow it down this time?" luke finishes your thought. 
you nod, grateful that you and luke are on the same page. he scrambles off the bed to get another condom.
"shit. i don't have another one.”
"check my bag, too," you tell him. luke complies, but comes up short once more.  
you’re sitting up against the headboard now, and luke returns to kneel in front of you. 
"i can use my fingers,” luke offers. “or eat you out again —"
“or we could just do without a condom this time?” you suggest. luke raises an eyebrow at you, so you think through the possibilities out loud. "we both got tested before our first time together and haven’t been with anyone since.” you find yourself pausing for confirmation on that, and luke nods once. “i’m on birth control. obviously there’s still a risk that something happens, but maybe just this one time? you can just pull out whenever you’re ready….if you're okay with that."
luke waits, almost like he thinks you might change your mind, before finally answering:
“yeah, i’m okay with it if you are. i’ve always wanted to fuck you raw. i just didn’t think you’d be into it — and didn’t want you to feel pressured.”
you have to kiss him then. because how is it that the boy who just gave you three jaw clenching, toe curling, heart pounding orgasms be so sweet and considerate?
before you know it, you’re flat on your back, sheets slightly scratchy with stray sand. you don't care much because luke hovers above you; he presses his forehead to yours, curls falling in front of his face. 
"just so you know," luke starts, just as you feel him enter you once more. "i must have been made for you, too. i'm just as much yours as you are mine."
you smirk, bite your lip to keep from moaning so that you can keep up the arrogance, just a bit longer. 
"always so dramatic," you mock, as if your cunt isn’t squeezing around him at his sweet nothings. 
luke grins at you sheepishly, his cheeks flushed. 
"guess that means the gods did two things right," you joke, exhaling when you feel luke brush against that gummy spot deep within you. "maybe we've taken them for granted. maybe we should - " he hits that spot again, and your breath hitches. you dig your nails into his shoulders as he rocks back and forth. “maybe we should thank them.”
luke clicks his tongue, grips your hip firmly. "not a chance, sweetheart. the gods’ll get what they deserve."
you don’t care enough to ask luke what he means. you care more about him going faster. you’re about to tell him to do so, and to throw your legs over his shoulders, but he does it himself before you get the chance. you feel him slipping deeper within you, the force and passion behind each movement, his body molding to every curve and crevice of yours. 
made for each other.
you’re so sensitive that your orgasm approaches quickly. as he helps you ride it out, his thrusts get sloppier, and you know he’s almost reached his peak, too. 
“fuck,” he grunts. “i’m close.” luke starts to pull out, but then you lock your ankles behind his neck. 
“don’t,” you command. 
“a-are you sure?” he looks at you, wide-eyed.
“i just want to feel you this once.”
he nods and brings you in for one more bruising kiss. he finishes inside you, warm and wet. 
luke leaves once he catches his breath, and comes back with a damp towel to clean you up. he knows your body, recognizes how sensitive you are, and presses kisses on the inside of your thighs, where the same lips had made bruises before. 
even completely fucked out, your mind starts to unpack everything that’s wrong in your life. like how luke has always been a little too good at pretending, with everyone else at least, and something serious must be going on if he's trying to fool you, too.  
this luke with you now, the one who gently wipes his cum from between your legs after fucking you so relentlessly, is your luke. it feels like your luke is slipping right through your fingers, and you’re wracking your brain trying to figure out how this can stop before losing him completely.
wait….did luke say something about getting revenge on the gods? your mind is still a bit cloudy, but you could’ve sworn —
 “are you okay?” 
his question puts pause on your spiraling. he’s done cleaning you up, throws the towel on the floor and settles back on the bed, next to you. you’re close enough for the softest whisper, your limbs intertwined beneath tangled sheets.
you watch luke carefully as he waits for an answer and surveys your body, tracing his fingers over the marks he'd left underneath your jaw, across your shoulders, over your collarbones and down your stomach. 
"i didn't hurt you, did i?"
“i’m okay,” you assure him. luke’s hand stops to gently rest on your cheek. your other worries are pushed to the side for the time being: for now, it's just you and luke. “do you think we could pick up a plan b pill tomorrow though, just in case? i love you, but i’m not ready to have your babies.”
luke widens his eyes like a minotaur in headlights. he drops his hand.
 “you’ve never said that before.”
“that i want to have your babies?” you jest, slightly amused at how panicked luke seems.
luke blushes and clears his throat. “well, that too. i meant the whole ‘i love you’ thing, though.” 
your amusement evaporates. you swear your heart stops beating momentarily.
“oh, shit.…” 
you’re not quite sure what to say; you’ve felt this way for a while, truthfully. 
of course you love luke. you can't remember exactly when you realized it, but you just….know.
because if what you felt for luke wasn’t love, then you were foolish to have secretly bought into what silena beauregard had been on about for years, and aphrodite herself might just be out of a job. 
“i know we’re kind of in a weird place, but, yeah, i mean it. you don’t have to say it back —”
luke leans forward to kiss you. gentler this time, but just as firm. “i love you."
"you do?" your heart resumes its beating. 
"of course i do. i have ever since my first morning at camp.”
“yeah right,” you chuckle in disbelief, feeling your cheeks heat up. “it’s not a competition, you know, over who loved who first.”
“karma, i’m serious,” he insists. “someone taught me to burn offerings, and with everything that happened with thalia, i obviously wasn't in the worshiping mood, but then you leaned over and whispered —"
"they like the smell of begging." 
luke grins at you, and you reach up to brush your thumb against the dimple in his cheek. 
"exactly. somehow, that was what i needed to hear. it was nice to know that i wasn't the only one who didn’t want to just accept things the way they were….” he loses his train of thought. luke grabs your hand in his. “i wish i had told you earlier. after all this, i don’t want to lose you.”
“you won’t —”
“whatever happens,” luke continues, somewhat ominously. “i love you, y/n.”
you hadn't heard luke use your real name in a while. you fall asleep, heart full with the memory of him weaving it together with those three magic words. 
the next morning, you wake up — you actually sleep in, for the first time in years — and decide that if you could stay here forever, you would. 
the morning sun stings your eyes through the sheer curtains. the sticky heat of summer sits heavy in the room, and stray grains of sand tickle your skin underneath the sheets. waves wash gently on the shore outside, and an ocean breeze mixes with the smell of burnt cinnamon. you can hear annabeth, grover, and percy crashing dishes and bickering and causing chaos in the kitchen as, you imagine, they scramble to surprise you with breakfast. 
luke is next to you, on his stomach. his curls are a mess, covering most of his face. 
evidence from last night: scratches from your nails prominent on his back, his neck decorated with purple bruises in the shape of your lips. you shift slightly and feel a dull ache between your legs, so you'd call it even.
outside, something clatters on the floor, and you hear percy swear.
luke's eyes flutter open, ever so slightly, and he starts to move. "we should get up before they burn down the place." 
you press your hand to luke's shoulder blade, barely, but in his half-asleep state, it's enough to keep him in bed. luke moves to his side, facing you. you bring your hand up to brush curls away from luke's eyes, even if they're still closed.
"they've literally been to hell and back," you recall his sarcastic words from last night. "i think they can handle pancakes." 
the corners of luke's mouth curl upwards. 
"you're such a smart ass," he mumbles.
you lean forward, plant a kiss underneath luke's chin. his stubble scratches against your lips. 
"don't pretend you don't love it, tiger."
luke breathes steadily. you think he might've fallen asleep once more until he presses his lips to your forehead, pulls you towards him, and quips:
"i love you."
your heart quickens as you echo his words. something churns in your stomach, too.
because this peace isn't something that feels permanent.
you're the children of gods, and there's always a catch. some inevitable plot twist where lovers end up separated, where heroes end up dead or cursed. 
it's nauseating — dangerous, even — that you want a happy ending, a desire buried in you deeply like a knife to the gut. it's cruel that the fates keep twisting, taunting you with what can never be.
no monsters; no gods or titans; no prophecies.
just this.
429 notes · View notes
kakujis · 4 months
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ALL I WANTED WAS YOU.
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and when the world treats you way too fairly... well, it's a shame i'm a dream.
synopsis: a break up is nothing, not when the two of you are sworn to be together. satoru thinks you just need a little reminder.
warnings: dark content. ageless blogs + minors DNI. afab!fem reader, sub!reader, yandere!satoru, switching povs at times, possessive behavior, dubcon, recording, dacryphilia, cheating (not on gojo), somno, praise, manipulation, gaslighting, mind break(?), begging, fingering, oral f!receiving, choking, pussy slapping, creampie, masochism (reader), tiny bit of man handling and hair pulling. he is mean AND whiny. he literally sniffs u at one point lol. you wear makeup. implied multiple rounds.
ft + wc: gojo x reader, around 5.2k
@enchantedforest-network
an: hi, so like months ago (as all my wips start) i had this idea for toxic!ex bf gojo which delved into yan gojo LOL. he is so hard to write... like wtf... so anyway this was been rotting away since september!! i think i did lose my mind just a little bit writing this ngl LMFAO. idk if i really leaned that heavily into the yan, but we are going to truck along and post this anyways. thanks for waitin'. also, thank you to dooby and sky for both proofreading and giving me some ideas to push through, @sxgars for the banner, and my brain/fingers for not giving up.
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gojo satoru still remembers the day you left, eyes puffy and face streaked with makeup as you stormed out of your shared apartment. in gojo’s mind, it was fine, you’d be back. no matter how big of a fight, you always came back. 
but it’s been months now of you ignoring his calls and texts, avoiding him whenever you see him. you’ve even blocked him on some of your social media platforms since he can only access the ones you haven’t used in years. most people have told him to let it go, move on, it’s not worth it. but satoru’s heart knows what it wants and at the core of it all, it wants: you. 
he thinks you might need a little coaxing, something to help you realize you love him again. once he finds out your address, his plan is set. he spruces himself up, spritzing on the cologne of his that was your favorite, even getting suguru to stop by the flower shop near his workplace to grab you a bouquet. yes, gojo’s got it all figured out. he’ll swing by, shower you in love like he used to, and you’ll realize you missed him just as bad. 
imagine his dismay when you won’t even open the door, your voice muffled from the other side. you tell him to leave, it’s over, you don’t want to see him anymore. he begs you to open it, just give him one more chance, but you sigh, crack the door open a smidge, and tell him. 
“satoru, leave. my boyfriend’s here.” 
he thinks that word is disgusting if he’s not the one it’s referring to. maybe you’re lying, maybe it’s another ruse to get him to piss off, but when you peek behind your shoulder, giving a little smile, the kind you used to give gojo, soft, sweet, loving; he realizes you’re completely honest. 
the lump in his throat is sticky, clinging onto the walls of his neck like gum. meanwhile, his heart feels like it’s beating in his ears, a not-so-friendly reminder of his fragility. 
you turn back, eyeing the flowers, an assortment of your favorite kinds - satoru, satoru, i like these, see? - and in a moment of soft-heartedness, step out. you can’t deny the pull of your heartstrings, satoru’s endearing aura plucking at them in a solemn tune, but you’re different now. you don’t need satoru anymore.  
“look,” you start, adjusting his tie and fixing the crinkling cellophane. “maybe you could give this to someone else? they’re so pretty, someone out there would be lucky to have them. and, you’re satoru, handsome, funny, sweet. you’ll find someone else in no time!” 
but he just stares, eyes boring into you as if it feels like the wind’s been taken out of him as your words fall on deafened ears. fuck the flowers, you’re so pretty, you’re the one people are lucky to have. in a sense, he’s bewildered because there’s no way you’ve actually moved on… right? 
you sigh again, a hint of exasperation tinging your voice, “gojo, i think… this should be the last time we see each other.” you step back, hand on the door handle. to you, this is a step in the right direction. 
for him, he finds that the way you don’t use his first name has him wanting to rip his hair out from the root. 
“wait, please, i love you.” he states, finally finding his voice, feeling like his time with you is running out. his lip quivers while his heart continues to shatter with each passing second. “i’d do anything for you, you know that right?”
ah. same old satoru, the man who swore he’d take the moon from the sky if you wanted. anyone looking in would swear you were lucky, but you remember things being a little… suffocating. it was too much, too overwhelming eventually. 
you bite your lip, strengthening your hold on the handle, ready to leave. you can’t meet his gaze, knowing that if you do you might falter. “but i don’t. i don’t love you anymore.” - it’s a lie, you know it is from the little bud inside your chest blooming, breaking out past the walls of your heart, but you just… can’t. 
he shakes his head, taking a step forward. “you don’t mean that.” 
“i do, satoru!” you flinch at your own voice, taking a deep breath to calm down. “please, just leave.” you tell him one more time before you retreat back inside and slam the door. 
he waits for a few minutes, thinking that maybe he’s on one of those prank shows. you’re going to open the door, tell him it was a joke, and to come inside. except you don’t, and he’s stuck under the low flickering haze of your complex’s lights. 
gojo’s a bit stunned on the walk back home, foggy eyesight mixed with thoughts flying a mile a minute equates to a tall stumbling man with no care for those around him. he can’t even count how many people he’s bumped into, let alone the amount of sorrys he’s muttered, the now crumpled bouquet still firmly held in his hand, indicated by the whites of his knuckles. 
when he gets home, he sinks into the floor, his head wrapped around his arms before he flings the bouquet across the room. “fuck!” a picture frame of the two of you clatters to the floor, glass breaking in tiny, jagged pieces. he kept it after all, in hopes that you’d come back eventually, but now it’s clear you’re not. he doesn’t even care that he’s knocked something off a table, he’s so fucking hurt.
hurt that you’ve moved on so easily, hurt that you’re out there calling someone else ‘baby’. he can’t fucking stand it, wanting to rip out the baseboards of his home or set it all on fire. from the first day he met you, gojo’s always firmly believed you were made for him. that thought was always reaffirmed with every ‘i love you,’ that dripped from your lips into his ear every morning and evening. 
maybe it’s not the best timing, but he remembers other things as well. like each time he’s been deep inside you and your pretty mouth would hang open, eyes blown and glassy, as you gasped out his name like it was the only thing you knew how to say. or even the times you took initiative yourself, crawling under the covers to wake him up, kitten licks and sloppy kisses to his cockhead. his own eyes met yours, with a lidded call of reverence, and that was all he needed to know. 
there’s no reason to wallow, he thinks, a small reignition of flame in his gut brewing. each passing memory that trickles by is another reminder that you did love him. no, that’s not right. you do love him.
okay, he thinks, i can still fix this. you just need a little reminding is all. you love him and you’re just a little confused. maybe his mind is breaking, but he reminds himself that it’s better his mind than his heart. 
”yeah,” he mumbles, dusting himself as he gets up off the floor. “she still loves me.” 
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to be honest, breaking and entering wasn’t really his thing, he never saw the appeal in it before. but, this isn't really a break in, he’s just visiting his girl. he will say though, you did make it a little too easy by keeping your key under the mat. no, you kept it easy because you knew he was coming, simple as that. 
he goes in tentatively at first, wanting to see what you’ve done with the place, nodding in approval as he scans over the rooms. you’ve done a good job, just like you did before, but he does frown when not a single one of his photos is up. you must have forgotten or maybe you’re trying to save your new boy toy some heartbreak. silently, he walks over to your bedroom door, peeking in.
his mouth quips up into a smile when he sees you. you’re pretty as you sleep, just like he remembers. you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, mouth slightly agape as your drool dribbled down into the pillow. 
“hey beautiful…” he murmurs when he reaches you, bending down to brush away a few strands of loose hair from your face. 
a little “mm,” leaves your lips as your face twists at his touch. he leans in til he’s just a hair’s breadth away, before he ghosts his lips over yours slightly. still the same old you, lips just as soft as he remembers and what little self restraint he had continues to chip away. 
the hot breath of exhales continue to mix as satoru spends his time taking in your scent. he tries his best not to whine when you pull away slightly, once again leaning further in to stay as close to you as possible. if he could get high off of it, he probably could, but the ache in his belly grows. he needs you. 
“wait a minute…” he mumbles when you try to once again turn away. “why are you always trying to run away from me?” it’s a silly question, rhetorical since you’re still locked in the deep throes of sleep. but your body seems to answer in place of your voice when your legs rub against the sheets and your chest once again heaves itself over, leaving him behind. 
he’s sad that you’ve taken away his favorite aromatic, but with your shuffling, you’ve moved the blankets down letting him get a peek of your bare skin. you’re always a sight to behold and his fingers run themselves lightly over your body before he’s pulling the blanket off you completely. 
you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, affectionately dubbed his “sleepy wife,” even though you were never married. it’s been a while since his hands burned with such intensity, running up and down your thigh and leg, even tracing along the curvature of your ass. 
his knee dips into the bed as he finally looms over you, pushing you gently onto your back, before he’s prying your thighs open with one hand. he thinks he should take his time, savor it, satoru, but you’re just so… inviting. he runs a finger across the waistband of your shorts, experimentally tugging lightly. he flickers his eyes between his hands and your face, seeking for any signs of waking as he slowly starts to expose more and more skin. 
hints and glimpses of skin are all he needs to get riled up, further than he already is, as he takes the leap and pulls your bottoms off completely. 
“oh fuck princess,” he groans when he sees your pretty pussy for the first time in months. he’s nearly salivating like a dog as he remembers just how good you taste, bending down to get perched between your thighs. 
the first kitten lick against your clit chips away at his already waning self control. the next one that delved between your folds nearly completely breaks it. but he’s missed tasting you on his buds, missed consuming what was his. take your time, satoru. his mind ticks again, and he settles back to prepare a nice lob of spit before he’s letting it fall onto your pussy. 
you shiver unconsciously at the sensation and he takes a pause, not wanting you to wake just yet. you’d probably flip out on him and he can’t have you getting mad at him just yet. 
he waits until you settle again before he’s diving back in, driving his tongue between your folds as he laps up your essence. to say he was starving was an understatement, for these past months he’s felt like he’s been dying. 
it’s intoxicating as your juices and his saliva mix to dribble down his chin, dripping onto your bed sheets below. he eats you out like it's his first real meal in months, tongue lapping as much of your essence as he can while his fingers dig deep into the plush skin of your thighs.
he shudders as he grinds his hips into your mattress, the tip of his nose running against your clit sending little shockwaves up your unconscious body. you taste just as good as he remembers, losing himself in the sweet slick of your cunt.
your eyelids finally flutter open, readjusting to the darkened light of your room, but you can't miss that familiar snowy peak of hair settled in between your thighs.
"satoru?" you breathe, meeting his lidded eyes as your hands come down to immediately push back against his forehead, but instead your fingers curl up into his locks. 
“hi,” he chimes, smiling against your pussy as he readjusts, sitting up to shoot you a wicked smile. “hi baby, good mornin’.” the tone ofhis voice is sweet, nearly identical to what it was like when you were together.
he replaces his tongue with his fingers, whining a little when he feels you clench down onto them as he starts to scissor you open. 
“what the fuck are you doing here?” you hiss, but your body jerks when he rubs against a particularly sweet spot of yours. 
“i missed you. i can’t visit?” he pouts, pressing a kiss against your clit before his tongue is laving over it again as if to make a point. “did you miss me?” he asks when your eyes roll back and you tug just a bit harder on his hair. 
“no.” you grit, but you can’t stop the way your hips buck up into him. 
“you’ve always been a bad liar, angel.” he shrugs, before he’s latching onto your cunt again.
he’s eaten you out more times than either of you can count, he knows exactly how to get you there. he knows it’s just a little bit more until you fall apart. he’s back on with even more fervor, alternating between sucking on your clit to sloppily and quickly flicking his tongue against it. 
“oh fuck,” you mewl, throwing your head back and thrashing as you come undone on his fingers, pussy fluttering and toes curling. 
“see, i knew you missed me.” he grins, as he brings his fingers up to suck at the slick around them. you’re still panting as you try to close your legs, but satoru’s fast, bringing his hands back down to tear them open. “ah ah ah,” he tuts, “we’re not done til i say so, got it?”  
“sa- gojo, you need to leave.” you plead, head heavy and stomach churning at what’s just happened. you fucked up but it’s fine, you can fix this still. 
“why?” he asks, “your boyfriend gonna come home?” fine, he’ll play your little game for now. he’ll antagonize you for a bit, before he’s disgustingly sweet again, just like the good ole days. but there’s also the anger brewing within him, why the fuck won’t you just come home? 
he smirks when you pause, already knowing the answer, “don’t tell me you two aren’t living together?” 
you shake your head, “that’s none of your business, gojo.” in hindsight, after satoru, you wanted to take things slowly the next time. moving in after only a month of dating probably wasn’t the best idea. 
“why not? i’ve got a right to know what you’re up to.” he pouts as he says it, hoping your irritation will ease up. 
you scoff, narrowing your eyes, “since when?” but your attitude is nothing more than a facade, always has been. “we’re not even together anymore-“ 
“since i decided, you’re mine.” he snaps, cutting you off and leaning down into you. “i decided that years ago by the way, and i’m not gonna let some fucking random mess with us.” 
you squeak as you hear him rustle with his pants, freeing his aching cock and you hate the way your stomach flip flops when you see it. it’s been so long since you’ve been fucked let alone touched. gojo was the last person to have you writhing underneath him and if you told him, he’d have even more of a need to keep it that way. 
your tough facade is breaking, you’re falling back into your hazy, mindless, and needy ways. you love satoru, even if the relationship was toxic, even if he gave you so little breathing room. but not yet, you won’t give in just yet. 
you try to scramble back further before you’re able to twist out of his hold for just a moment. but he grabs your hair by the root, twisting and pulling you back close to him and you yelp, clawing at his hand.
“baby, you’re really testing my patience.” he hisses into your ear, before he’s shoving you back down on the bed. “god, you know i hate being mean to you. just be good for once, yeah?” 
“gojo, leave.” you try one more time, but the hands that push up against him are so weak that he can tell your body’s betraying you. not only that, but your thighs shake at the pain in your scalp and you wish he would do it again. 
“i don’t think you want me to.” he states and you hate that he’s right. you don’t want him to leave, you want him to slide into you, filling you up. “or am i wrong?” he asks, looming over you, running his pretty cockhead through your folds. “go ahead, tell me to stop.” 
you bite your lip in an effort to not gasp out a pathetic moan, squeezing your eyes shut. each run against your clit has your legs widening, almost like you’re inviting him to come in. 
“knew it,” he quips, before he’s prodding at your entrance. your eyes fly open then, breathing heavily through your nose, but you don’t try to back off letting him glide in, inch by inch. “it’s cause you love me.” 
“i don’t,” you exhale as you watch his dick disappear within you, stretching you further than his fingers did. you’re nearly breathless when he finally bottoms out, fists balling into your sheets. 
“yes, you do,” he breathes, his own breathing jagged and rushed, almost like it’s being squeezed out of him. “you always have and always will.”
gojo satoru always fucks with your psyche, one of the many reasons you decided to leave him. it wasn’t obvious, not at first and neither was it nefarious. it was silly little item mix ups, funny conversations that seemed to follow satoru’s lead, until it was a loss of freedom, like a nightingale in a cage. 
huh? no, you’re meeting them next week… yeah, you told me last night. 
but that’s not- 
it is. check your phone. 
oh, i guess it… is? 
c’mon, would i lie to you princess? now you can hang out with me all day. 
and then suddenly it was all too clear when you did get that girl’s trip out, when your friends stared at you like you were fucking insane. it wasn’t normal at all that you couldn’t do a single thing without him. your friends helped you fit the pieces together and that was enough. you were going. 
leaving that day was easy, satoru hated seeing you upset and was more than willing to give you space when needed. it always went one way: you cool off, he swoops in and dresses up his words extra nicely to make you stay. but you didn’t this time. 
it was easier to leave all your things there as well instead of trying to leave in the middle of night. you thought you could do it, away from him you’d figure things out. 
but there must have been a part of you that still wanted him to chase after you, a divergent, rogue piece that strayed too far from the board. is that why you didn’t leave the city? still a part within satoru’s web of connected streets, just waiting until you were ensnared again. 
his eyes are still as pretty, his face almost too handsome, and voice just as alluring as before. you guess that’s what this is, a predator just waiting to stick his fangs into your neck.
“you’re insane,” you gasp out, holding onto your tiniest bit of strength. 
“aw, just for you.” he smiles, before he’s rolling his hips into yours, grinding in just the way you like, just as you remember. 
with each stutter of his hips, your walls twitch around his length and body jolts in waves of pleasure. soft gasps and moans tumble off your lips and satoru buries his face into your neck, nipping little marks into your skin, almost as if he’s etching one word into it: mine. 
it hits him almost instantly, this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach when he remembers that stupid little nuisance. he uses his hands to push up, still ramming into you as he takes a look at your face contorted in pleasure, as you peek up at him. 
“gojo?” you mumble, trying to take into account that look in his eye, but your head is bubbly with the pleasure he’s giving you. 
even with your walls clenching down around him with each roll of his hips, his anger seeps into him like water to a sponge as he tries to block out the idea that someone else was in what was his. that they probably saw this face that you’re making and got to hear your pretty little moans. 
“where’s your fucking phone?” he hisses, snatching it off the nightstand when he finds it, illuminated by the notifications of text messages from your “boyfriend.”
you whimper, trying to grab it, but satoru holds your hands together by the wrist, strategically keeping them against your chest so you can’t move up. 
“gojo, don’t!” you plead, snapping out of your trance for a moment, but the grip on your wrist tightens and you yelp. followed next is a glare, his gaze striking you right to the core. your words die off and he goes back to looking at your phone. it’s easy to unlock, you never changed the pass code. 
his eyes scan the texts quickly and frankly, it’s fucking disgusting to read this guy call you pet names that only satoru can say. he continues to scroll, trying his best to not dig his nails deep into your skin as he takes note of every heart emoji, flirtatious interaction, and pet name from your end. 
he keeps his breathing deep and even to keep himself from blowing his lid and he has half a mind to block his number to make sure you can’t speak to him again. but suddenly he’s got a better idea, getting back at him seemed so easy. 
you look so cute underneath him, pretty pussy enveloping his cock just like it was made to do, why not show it off? especially to someone that pissed him off. 
“hey baby, can you smile for me?” he says, voice sugary sweet as he opens your camera app, but you shake your head, trying to sink further into the pillow. you’re wary of the sudden personality change, especially when he finally releases your hands. 
he pouts, “c’mon now, you’re so pretty when you smile… please?” he sighs when you continue to refuse, but continues on, angling the camera til he’s satisfied with the image. 
“god, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” he says as he zooms onto your flushed face, hands coming up to hide it, before paneling back to record down your body. he stops when he reaches where both your hips are flush together, pussy sucking in his cock right to the brim. “fuck, would you look at that? i don’t even know your name man, but how fuckin’ pretty is this?” 
you gasp when you realize what he’s doing, but before you can say anything, you feel a hand come down onto your sensitive pussy. you yelp out but his hand comes down again and you're mortified when it sounds more like a moan. “bet you didn’t know she liked that,” he goads, “she also likes this.” he says, wrapping a hand around your jugular and giving a squeeze. 
your eyes roll back as the air escapes you, muddying your sight in little black dots. your hands fall to pull at his wrist, a moot effort considering the strength difference, and he laughs. a condescending flit of noise dripping in ego. “scratch that, she fucking loves that. hey, in my defense, i’m a little rusty, it’s been a while.” 
gojo has always been one of two things, needy and arrogant. but the worst was always when the two came together, usually in his worst fits of jealousy. he’s never recorded you before, always too eager to remember to set anything up before he’s pouncing on you.
but this satoru feels different, he feels scarier, nearly dangerous, although you shake off that fear til it’s nothing more than a fleeting thought. you liked this - no he was right, you loved this. before you broke up you were always begging satoru, just a little harder, just a little meaner, please.
with another heavy squeeze as the oxygen is once again cut off from you, you feel the walls around your heart finally crumbling completely, almost like a switch is flipped on. you can’t run from nor deny the heady need that was gojo satoru, the man that knew you in and out. you flutter your lashes at him, like you always did when you wanted to tell him something. he loosens his grip on your neck, just enough so that you can speak, “you wanna say somethin’, baby?” 
“u-use me,” you mumble, voice no louder than a whisper as your eyes start to leak that familiar pretty liquid that drives him insane. you’ve missed him, missed this - whatever the fuck it was, some messed up amalgamation dressed up under the guise of love. 
“hm?” he goads, a sick smile plastered on his face because you’re finally acting how you should. “a little louder for me, princess. i can’t hear you.” 
“use me!” you sob, trying to shift your hips to get some sort of stimulation, “please, satoru, please.” 
the use of his first name has him feeling like an actual god as he switches the camera back onto him. “you heard her.” he says with a wicked grin, before ending the video and pressing send. he tosses your phone to the side, “now where were we?” 
you whine when he shifts, one elbow propping him up as his hand once again finds it’s place against your neck. your own hand resumes it’s place as well, but instead of pulling this time you press, lashes heavy with tears as you wordlessly beg satoru to claim what’s his again. 
he’s so close to you now, his snowy hair tickles your forehead and his breath mixes with yours as he finally starts to move. you choke out a sob as he ever so slowly hits all the right places and you wonder how long you actually managed to make this far. 
“this is what you wanted isn’t it, baby?” he coos, being careful to not choke you for too long, even though you almost wish he’d fuck you passed out. “just needed a little reminder that i’m all you need right?” 
you nod, hiccuping with each thrust that knocks any air you have left out of your lungs. he’s right, just the two of you is all either of you need. you think the world is melting away as satoru presses kisses against your spit ridden lips, his own groans mixing in with yours as your tongues mesh together in sloppy, messy runs. 
“and now you’re gonna cum on my cock, aren’t you?” he picks up the pace, slamming in harder, rougher, like he’s proving a point. but he’s almost always right, with each kiss of his mushroom tip against your sweet spot pulsing pleasure throughout your body. “show me how much you love me.” 
“‘m close, toru,” you sniffle, nails digging into his arm as you blink away more tears, gasping up into his mouth. “‘m so close, please.” 
“i know.” he states, pressing his forehead against yours, sticky and sweat covered, as he gazes into your glassy, hazy eyes. “come on, cum for me princess. show me who you belong to.” 
there’s something so euphoric about satoru’s words, claiming every last bit of you, that you fall apart almost instantly. your orgasm hits you hard, rippling through you as your eyes and head both roll back, your pussy clenching down on his thick cock. 
“f-fuck! cumming, toru, i’m-“ you squeal, tears running down your face freely but satoru swallows up your moans, his lips once again sealing over yours, since those belong to him too. 
that’s enough for him, a firm affirmation that you love him, and he loses control of his once precise thrusts. he pistons into you, heavy balls slapping against your skin and pounding hard as if to leave marks all up your velvet walls. you milk out his own orgasm, walls fluttering and he detaches from your lips to growl out, “you’re all fucking mine, got it?” 
you chant out “yes,” as many times you can, still riding out your own orgasm as his cum paints your walls in white, til he finally slows back down to a stuttering close. he pants as he runs his hand up to rub his thumb over your tear-ridden cheek. 
“i love you.” he mumbles and you blink up at him sleepily meeting his pretty lidded blue eyes. it’s a stark contrast to the satoru just moments ago, pounding into you like his life depended on it. 
“love you too, toru.” you whisper, running a hand over his. your head and body feel heavy, yet your mind is still floating above the clouds. he’s probably oversensitive but you can’t care, knowing that your neck is prettier now that his fingerprints are littered on it. “toru… again.” 
he laughs when he feels you start to grind your hips, sticky slick and cum dripping from your hole. he feels like he’s on cloud nine hearing you beg for him after all this time. 
“please, please, toru,” you whine, craning your neck to brush sloppy, wet kisses across his lips and jawline. “i love you, so please.” 
“course, angel,” he mumbles in between kisses, “just gimme a few minutes and i’ll give you everything you want.” 
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sebscore · 1 year
Note
heyy! Got a request! So all the drivers are in this fancy yacht in Monaco promoting F1/race. It's black tie event. Our fem! F1 driver comes in wearing gorgeous dress. And I just want everyone's reaction. I think it will be interesting since the fem! F1 driver usually is in F1 overalls/merch. Thank you!
MISS LITTLE BLACK DRESS
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pairing: (most of the) f1 grid x reader (including some retired drivers)
warnings: mentions of the fia. a drunk nando at the end lol.
author's note: thank you so much for the request! this was genuinely so fun to write, i'm sorry that i didn't include the entire grid, but for some people i just genuinely didn't know how they would react or i didn't want the reactions to become repetitive. let me know what you thought of it! 💖
• • • • • • •
''Who's that?'' Lando asked Charles and Charlotte, his eyes not leaving the backside of the woman who had just entered the yacht. The question caught the attention of the other people seated on the long couch. George, Carmen, Alex, Lily, Pierre, Yuki, Carlos and Isa followed Lando's eyes.
It was quite hard to recognize her since her face wasn't visible as she talked to Toto, Mattia and Susie. ''Maybe someone from the FIA or something?'' George concluded, taking a wild guess.
''I love her dress, it's so cute.'' Lily whispered to Carmen, admiring the way it hugged the woman's body perfectly. ''I know, it's sexy, but also elegant in a way.''
''Lando, you should go up to her.'' Pierre encouraged him, taking in the way the Brit was eyeing her up and down.
Alex and Charles agreed. ''Yeah, make it a bit fun for us here! This event isn't gonna get any better than this.'' Alex said, the black-tie event was organized by the FIA and those guys weren't exactly known for their fun parties.
''You sure?'' Lando hesitated, the man was newly single and it had been a while since he had approached someone in that kind of a manner. The group cheered him on, wanting to see their friend take some action and move on from his previous relationship. ''What do I even say?''
The question was more directed at the women. ''Compliment her dress, Lando.'' Isa advised him, knowing she would appreciate it. He nodded at her words, repeating the words in his head.
''Yeah, okay- anything else?'' He asked them.
''Just let the conversation flow from there, it'll be okay.'' Carmen assured the younger guy, seeing how he started to get nervous.
Lando got up from his seat, breathing in and out. ''Here we go.'' He took a swig from his beer for some encouragement and made his way over while the rest of the group watched in anticipation.
''Hi, everyone.'' He greeted the team principals and Susie with a smile, before his eyes fell on the reason he was there. The smile was smacked from his face and was replaced by an expression of disbelief.
''Y/N?''
''Hey, Lando.'' She greeted him back, taking notice of his face that she had a hard time reading. ''What's up?''
The McLaren driver was stunned. The woman was Y/N, he had been checking out the woman he had known since the two of them were kids. In his defense, a long time had passed when he last saw her in anything that wasn't oversized or racing related.
''Nothing, just, uh, wanted to come and say hi,'' he managed to stutter out, ''the rest of us are sitting here, if you'd like to join us.'' He motioned towards the entire group that sat with open mouths as Y/N turned around. They quickly covered their surprise up and waved at her, sending her uneasy smiles.
The unaware driver smiled back at them. ''Yeah, I'll join you guys in a minute.'' She wrapped up the conversation with him, growing uncomfortable with Lando's unsubtle stare.
''Great, see you all later.''
Lando quickly bid them goodbye and was ready to crawl into a hole, feeling humiliated and confused all at the same time. He sat back down on his original spot, avoiding eye-contact with everyone.
''That's Y/N? You were gonna flirt with Y/N.'' Carlos stated in disbelief himself, that he hadn't recognized her before. ''That's crazy.''
''I've never seen her like that, she looks good!'' Charlotte was impressed the way the woman could pull off her duality like that, she looked completely different than she did when Charlotte ran into her on the paddock.
The rest of the girls agreed. ''I'm gonna ask her where she got that dress from, I need that in my closet.'' Lily couldn't stop thinking about the little black dress the woman was wearing.
Meanwhile, the boys watched Lando in amusement as he went through all the five stages of grief. ''Lando, man… I'm sorry, I guess.'' Pierre chuckled, covering his huge grin with his hand.
''Yeah, better luck next time.'' Alex said, trying to not burst out laughing at the situation.
Yuki just observed everyone in confusion, not understanding the big fuss they were making about this. ''Lando, you like Y/N?'' The Japanese man had to start paying more attention to the conversation instead of munching on all the appetizers that were spread out on the table in front of them.
''No, Yuki! I didn't know it was her.'' He exclaimed, getting defensive about the entire thing.
The Alpha Tauri driver simply nodded, not caring much either way.
''I think you guys would be cute, a childhood friends to lovers kinda thing.'' Lily teased, trying to make him feel better about it.
Well, she failed. ''No! She's like- Ugh, just no!'' Lando didn't even want to think about it, him and Y/N was just… no.
''You're getting weirdly defensive about this, Lando.'' Charles teasingly noted.
''And you DNF'd this weekend, we all have our problems.''
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''Is that Y/N? Oh, look at her.'' The woman caught the eyes of Sebastian, Lewis, Jenson, Mark and Vallterri. She must have sensed their eyes on her as she turned around and made her way over to them, a big smile on her face.
They made some space so she could sit in-between Seb and Jenson. ''We were starting to wonder where you were, our party animal.'' Jenson teased her. The female driver was quite known for never passing the oppurtunity to celebrate something.
''I've been here for a while actually, but Rosberg caught me when I was ordering something at the bar and well- you know when Nico starts talking.'' She explained her absence, recalling the man going on about whatever Nico Rosberg goes on about.
The five men chuckled, knowing how the man could get. ''That Britney, never gets old.''
''I almost didn't recognize you without the usual racing suit.'' Lewis noted, he had to take several looks before being sure that it was in fact her.
Y/N glanced down at her dress. ''Yeah, I was actually gonna go to a club with my friends, but then my team told me this was kinda mandatory, so that sucked.''
''I think we all would rather be at a club right now.'' Mark said, sighing loudly. A party on a yacht was really hard to make boring, but the FIA had obviously done their best to just do that.
''I just came for the free alcohol.'' Vallterri spoke up for the first time, having everyone agree with him.
The conversation split up from there. Jenson and Mark teasing each other about things they had said on live air, and the former Mercedes teammates catching up with each other.
That left Y/N and Seb, the latter nudging her shoulder. ''You look really pretty, Y/N.'' She was touched by the genuineness in his voice. ''Thanks, Seb.''
''Hey, Y/N.'' She moved around and saw a pretty drunk Fernando approaching them. ''Your dress is a bop or whatever you call it.''
''No, Nando… that's not- oh whatever, thank you!''
4K notes · View notes
lacrimosathedark · 3 months
Text
Bat-Family Nicknames and Insults
So I went off the other day because fans keep having people who aren't Roy Harper call Jason Todd "Jaybird" and now I'm thinking about all the other nickname misconceptions so here's a probably non-comprehensive list of nicknames among the Bat Fam.
(Special thanks to @sohotthateveryonedied for a bunch of my data, she made a whole powerpoint with actual comic panels! Go check that out! Also got some info from @kiragecko who was writing some lists with more specific references.)
This list is an active document and will be edited in the event I find more nicknames or have more to say
Addendum note: I'm more than willing to add something I forgot, but you must have receipts. I'm not just going off of memory. Nothing will be added to this list without proof. If you don't have a source, please don't make a suggestion.
This is aside from assorted common insults and nicknames like jerk, ass, shorty, dude, idiot, etc.. Sidenote, every not-Steph Robin has been called “Little Bird”, “Birdboy” and/or “Wonder Boy” at some point. It’s kinda part of the job lol Secondary side-note, the only ones who REALLY use nicknames for people are Barbara and Jason. And Tim specifically in reference to Damian. Everyone else pretty much uses their names 98% of the time. Final note (sorryyyyyy) generally unless they're funny to me, I'm not including things used only once unless I have gotten vibes that it's a trend. This is an attempt to compile recurring nicknames. So ones noted to be used once are either I can only confirm it happened once but could happen multiple times, or I think it's hilarious.
Alfred Pennyworth
Al/Alf Seems to be a common nickname among the boys.
Alfie Dick, Tim, and Jason have all called him this.
Alfredo Jason called him this at least once and I think that’s funny. Not sure it’s exclusive though.
Mom Dick seems to have referred to him as such once…I’m sorry but that’s so funny.
Alfred also has specific ways of referring to everyone: Bruce: Master Bruce, Mister Wayne, Lad, Bruce, My Son Barbara: Mistress Barbara, Miss Barbara, Miss Gordon, Miss Oracle Dick: Master Dick, Master Richard, Master Grayson, Dear Boy, Young Sir, Young Man, Richard, Dick Cassandra: Miss Cassandra, Young Cassandra, My Dear Jason: Master Jason, Young Sir, Lad, Jason Tim: Master Tim, Master Timothy, Young Master Tim, Lad, Young Sir, Young Man, Timothy, Tim Damian: Master Damian, Young Master Damian, Young Sir, Young Man, Son, Damian
Bruce Wayne
Spooky Oliver Queen calls him this, others might as well but I legitimately have no idea.
Batsy Everyone and their goddamn dog, but Joker uses this notably a lot.
Detective RA'S AL GHUL EXCLUSIVE. I think? But this is how Ra's generally refers to Bruce.
B-Man HARLEY QUINN EXCLUSIVE...I think. She calls him this a lot though.
While Dick and Jason will internally think of Bruce as their father, Dick rarely says so and extremely rarely calls him “Dad”. Jason would only say so mockingly or under pain of a second death. Tim rarely even thinks of Bruce as his father (he didn’t become Robin to be Bruce’s kid, and he doesn’t want to replace his own father—much the same way Dana didn’t replace Janet) and never refers to him as such outside of WE work (where he very much uses that to his advantage). Damian almost exclusively refers to Bruce as “Father” but has called him "Dad". Steph sometimes calls him “Boss”. Everyone usually calls him "Bruce".
He refers to ALL of the boys as “chum” and “lad” at some point. It’s just how he used to talk honestly. He DOES NOT call them “sweetie” or “honey” or anything like that. He DOES, however, speak to small children this way. There are multiple instances of him using "sweetheart" and similar terms when dealing with young children. This differentiation I think is for two reasons. One, Bruce is emotionally stunted and being open with anyone outside of actively comforting is difficult for him, and two, the youngest child he has ever had himself was 9 years old so he's never had a small child he'd be likely more inclined to be extra super soft with.
Barbara Gordon
Babs Most people call her this. Bruce doesn’t seem to though, oddly enough.
Babsy/Babsie Both Dick and Jim Gordon have called her this. Very cute.
Barb/Barbie Nearly exclusive to Jason Todd, actually. I think her dad calls her this once in a while, but specifically Jason calls her this.
Babes A few of her friends call her this, but mostly Luke Fox when they were dating.
Red A few people call her this, but mostly Jason and not real often. Probably cuz we already have a red-head often referred to as “Red” (Pam Isely by Harley) and as to not be confused with the other two Reds in the family (Red Hood and Red Robin).
The High Priestess of Tech More of a reference than a nickname, but I think it’s funny. Dick referred to her as such.
O For Oracle!
Dick Grayson Exclusives because Boyfriend Baby Love Beautiful
Richard Grayson
Dick Everyone calls him this. Almost no one calls him Richard.
Dickie His parents also called him this, along with other people who knew him from Haly’s Circus, but otherwise it’s mostly just Jason.
Dickster I…hate that this is canon lmao. Dick has thought this one in his inner monologue, but Jason has also said it at least once. It’s…Something.
Circus Boy Common insult, Jason uses it a few times.
Tight Ass No comment.
Rob Kinda rare for him and more a Tim thing, but his Titans team call him this sometimes. I specifically remember Wally doing so, and Roy too I think.
Boy Wonderful Not marking this as exclusive because Babs probably used it at one point but, shockingly (or not) this comes from Wally West! Wally has also called his Titans team as a group “Dear Hearts” at least once which is just so fucking cute. Neeeeeerd.
Kid Not exclusive to him, but consistently called this by Slade Wilson/Deathstroke over most anything else.
Marcia TIM DRAKE EXCLUSIVE. A joke between him and Tim, assigning each Bat-boy a Brady Bunch member.
Little Robin MARY GRAYSON EXCLUSIVE. This is where the hero name Robin came from; Dick’s mom used to call him this.
Dickie-Bird JASON TODD EXCLUSIVE. Jason calls Dick this a lot during his weird appearances in Nightwing that I pretend never happened because it was weird and dumb. But it is a canonical nickname. And it’s funny.
Amy Rohrbach Exclusives because Partner Rookie Stud Cowboy Sherlock Mr. Confident
Barbara Gordon Exclusives because Girlfriend (and because she’s funny) Flatterer Boyfriend The Brightest, Sweetest, Most Handsome, Wealthiest Young Bachelor on the Entire East Coast Buckaroo Bucko Candy-Gram Darling Lover Love Hunk Wonder Man Wonder Hound Wonder Former Teen Wonder Twenty Something Wonder Blue Wonder Poor Lovable Naïve Dope Pixie Boots
Cassandra Cain
Cass Pretty much everyone calls her this.
Cassie Some people call her this, specifically the people closest to her; Stephanie, Tim, Barbara, Bruce, and Duke. It’s generally used sparingly, especially considering Tim is close to ANOTHER Cassandra who goes by “Cassie” almost exclusively, so Cass is generally preferred to avoid confusion. But Cassie is tossed around.
Batghoul Possibly Stephanie Brown exclusive, though easy enough that I wouldn’t be surprised if others called her that. She is notoriously spooky.
Bat-Babe KON-EL/CONNER KENT EXCLUSIVE. These two are actually good friends and dated for a short time. They’re very cute. And they met at the time Kon was just…Like That.
Jason Todd
Jay Literally everyone calls him this sometimes. It’s a common nickname.
Jace/Jase Also pretty common, but seems to mostly be among family. Dick and Bruce have at least both called him this.
The Toddster Was called such by Danny Chase, implying they were friends somehow? (Jason didn't have many Titans missions so idk how they were close enough for him to call him that). He calls him that when he discovers Jason’s status in the system is “unknown”, leading him to find out he’s dead.
Rojo Referred to himself as this once while he was still a crime boss, so presumably some of his gang called him this too. Obviously Spanish for red because Red Hood.
Little Bird Possibly exclusive to Barbara Gordon, she called him this in a flashback.
Jan That Dick and Tim Brady Bunch joke. Just imagine one of them looking Jason dead in the eye and saying “Sure, Jan.”
Little Wing DICK GRAYSON EXCLUSIVE. Called Robin Jason this in Nightwing Year 1 and it’s very cute.
Jaybird ROY HARPER EXCLUSIVE. The reason I’m making this post because no one seems to remember that Roy and only Roy has ever called Jason this. But any time these two appear together, it’s usually said at least once.
Stephanie Brown
Steph Pretty much everyone calls her this at one point.
Stephie A few people if I recall, but I know Tim’s called her that.
Blondie Pretty sure a few people call her this, but notably Harper Row.
Damian Wayne Exclusives because He Was A Brat Wench Fatgirl Girl Blunder
Timothy Drake
Tim Everyone to the point where it’s just his name.
Timmy A lot of people call him this pretty teasingly. Dick, Jason, and Babs do it consistently, but that’s older siblings for ya. Bernard has done it too.
Timbo Dick and Jason as well as his friend Ives have called Tim this at the very least. Tim notably doesn't seem to like it, though he has used it himself in a derogatory way in his inner monologue.
Timbers I’ve only ever seen Jason call him this, but I could be missing things. Would not be surprised if Dick did too, but it’s very Jason.
Rob Most of Young Justice called him that up until he revealed his name (which took a while because Bruce was being controlling and overprotective, as he does). Short for “Robin”, obviously, which is all they knew him as.
My Robin I’m pretty sure each member of Young Justice has said this about Tim, though Conner does it the most and has the biggest negative reaction to literally anyone but Tim being Robin.
Cindy DICK GRAYSON EXCLUSIVE. It’s that Brady Bunch joke again!
Little Brother DICK GRAYSON EXCLUSIVE. I didn't originally include it because it had the same vibes as like "dude" or "jerk"; something that's easily tossed around, y'know? And it feels like a descriptor, but it is actually used as a title/nickname several times, especially when Dick is messing with Tim.
Pretender JASON TODD EXCLUSIVE. Though it should be noted, he only directly called him this one time. Aside from that, he more refers to Tim as A pretender, not as like a nickname or title. It’s a description. (like “replacement” was but fandom made that a nickname yes I am in fact bitter)
Duckboy HARLEY QUINN EXCLUSIVE. She says this once, but it’s hilarious so I’m keeping it.
Detective RA’S AL GHUL EXCLUSIVE. Ra’s is very particular about titles. The only other person he refers to as “Detective” is Bruce, and Dick one time in his internal monologue, so he is acknowledging Tim’s competence. And then proceeds to get a large portion of his resources obliterated by Tim <3
Stephanie Brown Exclusives because Girlfriend Sweetie Muffin Boy Virgin
Duke Thomas
Narrows Almost Jason exclusively, though I think Harper has called him this once or twice. In reference to the neighborhood he grew up in, as opposed to Jason and Harper's Park Row aka Crime Alley upbringing.
Newbie Jason calls him this frequently, though it's likely the others have too.
Baby Bird ELAINE THOMAS EXCLUSIVE. Yeah, surprisingly Duke is actually called this by his mom.
Damian Wayne
Gremlin Mostly exclusive to Tim, but Jason has called him this too. This also seems to be Tim’s go-to for Damian when not using his name or codename.
Dami Used by Jon Kent and Talia al Ghul, so presumably those closest to him.
Little D I think Barbara Gordon exclusive but I’m not sure.
Cousin Oliver Not said to his face to my knowledge, but the Brady Bunch in-joke between Dick and Tim.
Prince/Your Highness (other royal variations) A common way to mock Damian for his haughty air and stuck-up attitude. More common in the past because Damian was The Worst and never shut up about being the heir to Batman and the Demon's Head. He's grown a lot since then and this kind of joke is used less. He is still pretty snooty though.
D JON KENT EXCLUSIVE. I have yet to see anyone else call him this at least, and this is how Jon almost always refers to him.
Baby Bird TALIA AL GHUL EXCLUSIVE. I’ve seen her call him this once, and I don’t recall ever seeing anyone else call him this. Just wanted it known that Talia is the only one to call Damian this.
Tim Drake Exclusives because Tim is Petty and Damian was a Brat Little Monster Hobbit Homunculus Little snot Spoiled, vicious and homicidal little punk Heir to the Kingdom of the Damned
Note on how Damian refers to others: Damian usually uses full first names or surnames, depending on circumstance and closeness. He occasionally calls Dick “Dick” or “Richard”, but often calls him “Grayson”. He almost always refers to Tim as “Drake”, but occasionally as “Timothy”.
Fanon names that I dislike
Replacement Jason never once calls Tim this, and refers to Tim as A replacement about as much as Dick did about Jason (Yes Dick has at least once when talking to Bruce referred to Jason as his replacement). How common it is in this fandom to call Tim "Replacement" (with a capital R like it's a name or title!!!) drives me absolutely insane. It's not canon and tbh you can do better. Hell, "pretender" is right there! And Jason's a nerd, he would do better.
Baby Bird Like…it’s cute, but given it’s used in fanon almost exclusively for Tim, and POST DAMIAN, it just feels infantalizing. Especially when the only canon uses are mothers towards their kids. I see this a lot with Dick and Jason using it, which is...just no. Like, Dick, I get it, but he's more likely to call Tim "Little Brother". Jason would never allow himself to be seen as this soft to Tim. If he were trying to be gentle with him, he'd probably call him "kid". He's done that before.
Baby Bat(s) I have seen this used literally twice. Once where a goon mockingly called Tim that, and once in an AU where Harley said it to Damian. "Baby Bat" isn't a thing. Sorry.
Big Bird More amusing than anything but a little annoying. No one ever calls Dick that in canon and whenever I read it all I can think of is Sesame Street so unless a giant yellow muppet bird is what you're going for, maybe don't do that lol
Demon Brat/Demon Spawn Not the most egregious thing, especially considering the numerous nicknames Tim comes up with, but the consistency of its usage in fanon is a little frustrating. This is never used in-canon, and if you want to use it in your fanworks, just maybe intersperse it with other more creative nicknames, yeah? It's just unoriginal at this point.
Jaylad I don’t hate this one, but it’s such a huge misconception that it’s canon. Bruce has said “Jay, lad” a couple times because he calls like every boy he meets “lad” and people made up “Jaylad”. Not the worst thing ever, but it's not canon.
Golden Boy I don't actually have a problem with this one, but I may as well clear up that this is canon as a descriptor but not as a nickname for Dick. Like calling Jason "the dead Robin". Like, people have said that about him in-canon, but they haven't called him that. The common derivative "Goldie" is entirely fanon.
Non-canon nicknames I think are funny
Dick-face/Dickhead I’m sorry, I find it hilarious whenever someone (usually Jason) in fanfic calls him this. It’s also to me just a silly exaggeration of the obvious joke that has been made at least once (but probably several times by now) in canon about someone being about to call Nightwing a dick and someone else reminding them not to use names in the field. I think it’s hilarious.
Timberly I can’t tell you why this specific deviation of Tim is funny to me but it is. And I'm surprised I haven't seen Jason call Tim this in canon.
566 notes · View notes
joequiinn · 28 days
Text
The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 1
[all chapters here]
summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…
notes & tropes: fem reader, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers
a/n: Was I the only one who turned 18 a month into their senior year and then proceeded to spiral and become The Worst version of themself possible?? Well, this fic is semi-inspired by that shitty part of my life lmao. Reader figure skates though. I can’t figure skate, hurts my feet lol. I never expected to write a fake dating story, but Eddie Munson has had me bewitched for nearly 2 years now, so here we go.
(if you'd like to be added to a tag list, pls let me know!)
wc: 3.9k
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Chapter One
The idea came to you during a student council meeting as the class president was droning on about the ‘85 homecoming preparations: you needed to do something crazy, something completely and utterly out of character.
Maybe it was because of your ex breaking up with you just weeks before school started. Maybe it was that senior year itch. Maybe it was the realization that you were turning 18 next week. Hell, maybe you just woke up that morning with a strong sense that the things in your life were no longer satisfying you.
Whatever the cause, since the start of your senior year, you’ve just felt so off.
Your ex, Duncan, breaking up with you right before school started was a low blow, and an absolutely shitty feeling - you didn’t date much, but when you did, it was never the guy that ended things. It wasn’t shitty because you were in love and oh so heartbreak, it wasn’t shitty because you saw a future with him. It was shitty because of how goddamn embarrassing it was.
To your peers, you were a couple that made sense, and in fact people had been urging you to go out for a while. And, obviously, you had grown to like him, considering that you were in a relationship for six months - you never would have put up with him for that long if you didn’t actually like him. But the fact that he broke up with you, and not the other way around, left a sour, spiteful taste in your mouth.
So, perhaps it was that break-up that made you feel different this entire month. Or maybe it was your impending 18th birthday, which made you realize just how close you were to legal adulthood. Whatever the cause, every single aspect of your life up to this point suddenly came under your deep scrutiny. You just weren’t… happy?
That made it sound bad, but what were you enjoying right now? What got you excited every day? As you sat in the student council meeting, zoning out since the very start, you came to think that maybe you had nothing going on right now that you genuinely wanted in your life.
Hell, you weren’t even on the student council because you enjoyed it, Janet just dragged you into it back in your sophomore year. You figured she loved the sense of importance it gave her. She and everyone else in the council probably got off on how important they felt, the dictators of Hawkins High School.
You always ran in this crowd, and before you never questioned it. The popular kids, the rich kids, the successful kids. You don’t remember ever choosing these friends and acquaintances - if anything, it seemed that these peers were all a constant, as if they’d always been there from the very start. You figured it was the natural state of the world - as the daughter of one of the richest men in town, you were predestined to end up here. Not here as in the student council, surrounded by other spoiled rich kids debating the difference between turquoise and cyan. But here in an even broader sense - in a finely curated life, in all the “right” circles, on the path to either greatness or becoming the trophy wife of greatness.
Up until now, you’d never questioned it. Yes, mom and dad, you were a popular kid whose free time was fully booked between college prep, figure skating, student council, dates with a cookie-cutter boyfriend, and everything else under the sun. Yes, mom and dad, you were doing everything they all told you too because it would look great on your college applications, because that’s what you’re supposed to do, because that’s how things have always been done.
It started to dawn on you maybe a week or so into the school year just how mundane you were - you never questioned your time spent skating or on extracurriculars, you never went against the order of things as dictated by only the most popular of your peers. That’s just what was done, what was always done. But after your ex dared to break up with you, you came to realize recently that maybe all of this wasn’t what you wanted - maybe it was time to start making some choices for yourself instead of worrying what your parents told you or what your peers thought or what to do to keep your boyfriend semi-happy.
So, you started to consider what exactly it was that you wanted. And that proved to be more challenging than you anticipated, which probably would have sounded extremely pathetic if you had said it to any of the people sitting next to you.
Did you like figure skating? Of course, it was your idea after all. What you didn’t like was the pressure from your mother to train and become an Olympian, a feat that was never your intention when you took up the sport at six years old. Besides, you told her, you were way past the age for trials, you’d never get in (or, at least, that’s what you told her, because how the hell would you know whether or not there was a cut off age).
Did you like your friends? You thought so - you’d known them virtually your entire life, so you never questioned your relationship with them. But proximity didn’t necessarily go hand-in-hand with likeability. Maybe some of them you actually liked, but the rest? No, they were just around because they always had been.
Did you like your relationship before Duncan broke up with you? No, probably not. Of course, your opinion of him and that entire relationship was soured now, but even at the time, you were probably just going through the motions, doing things that couples do without any real heart in it.
So… What did you want? What did you actually like?
It was jarring to realize that your entire life had been dictated and finely tuned for you from the moment you were born, that even the things you wanted had been molded into new shapes by your parents or your peers or your teachers.
Once you realized how little of your life was in your own hands, you couldn’t get it out of your head. You always saw yourself as someone who was in control, as someone who couldn’t be told shit. And yet, you came to realize that that was far from the truth. It was as if suddenly everything about your life was something you hated. You hated your classes, you hated your friends, you hated running in the same circle as your ex, you hated all your obligations. Through the first few weeks of senior year, all you felt was frustration, disinterest, and absolute boredom with everything around you. Something had to change. And during the bullshit student council meeting, you became determined to make it happen.
So, over the course of that boring as all hell meeting, you tried to figure out what you wanted, and how you were going to get it. You set a goal for yourself, silly but helpful considering the structure you were so accustomed to: you’d set your plan in motion on your birthday. New year, new you, right?
Once you gave yourself that deadline, you then had to think about what exactly you were trying to accomplish - yes, you wanted to make some major changes, you wanted to, in a way, become a new person, but how were you going to do that?
You settled on four key things to keep in mind:
You wanted to piss off your parents big time - your dad barely acknowledged your existence and your mom coddled you, so actually upsetting them would be a feat unto itself. You had to become so awful that even your mother would stop making excuses for you.
You needed to drop your friends - the more you thought about all the people you grew up alongside, the more you realized that you weren’t particularly interested  in relationships with any of them. Whether you made new friends or not wasn’t a priority, in fact you kind of liked the idea of just being left alone.
You had to figure out what you actually enjoyed - outside of skating, you had no idea what really interested you, what you would like to do with your life and your free time. You figured it was time to do some self reflection and focus on finding things that you’d actually enjoy.
And, most importantly, you had to get back at your ex. Yeah, it was stupid to be motivated by a boy, but nothing would make you happier than seeing him worked up and frustrated. Your focus wasn’t on trying to win him back or anything like that - you wanted to piss him off, to exact some kind of revenge for making you look like an idiot when he broke up with you at a party that all your friends had attended.
How you were going to accomplish these, however, was yet to be determined. But they were a damn good starting point, and they got you motivated to become an absolute nuisance to everyone around.
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The Friday following the student council meeting, you decided to first experiment with a little something, satiate a mild curiosity. To anyone else, it was probably the most mundane thing in the world, but to a high schooler who thought graduation was life or death, doing anything out of the ordinary felt nail-biting.
You were going to sit at a new lunch table.
You had just two days left until your birthday, until you’d officially set your plan in motion, so you still had a little more time to come up with something. So far, you couldn’t think of shit. You were already someone who was blunt and commanding and mean, whose thoughts and feelings were always on your face, so people were used to you being bossy and a little miserable - you couldn’t start being meaner or blunter, you just knew that wouldn’t be enough. Maybe you could start skipping class, maybe you could start flaking on friends, but somehow none of that felt like enough, like it wouldn’t make a statement. You had to really make an impression, to really set yourself up for a total ruination of your social status, you just hadn’t figured out how.
But a new lunch table was as good a starting point as any, right?
You chose a table at the far end of the lunchroom; customarily your group of friends, acquaintances, and ex sat centrally, surrounded by the jocks on one side and the academics on the other. The new table you chose was only occupied by two other people, a dorky little couple who looked at you funny when you sat as far from them as possible. In turn, you gave them an icy cold glare, prompting them to look away quickly, like you were a Medusa who could turn them to stone.
Your stupid little lunchroom plan was a bust, though. Five minutes into your peaceful lunch, your two closest friends, Amelia and Janet found you, each looking perplexed and put-off by your seat of choice. They looked around before lowering into the seats around you, their expression full of something akin to disgust, as if sitting at a different table was that offensive.
“What are we doing over here?” Amelia asked judgmentally, eyeing the couple at the opposite end of the table. Across the lunchroom, a few people (including Duncan) from your usual lunch table looked at you funny, “It’s like we’re exiled or something.”
So dramatic, you thought while staring harshly at her.
“Change of scenery.” You answered plainly, stabbing at the food in front of you. Amelia hummed in acknowledgement, but still made it quite clear that she didn’t agree with the decision.
“What, does this have something to do with Duncan?” She jabbed, receiving another nasty look from you, “So, he’s a jerk? Get over it.”
You should’ve known this idea was too simple to work. Of course they’d just follow you like the lemmings that they were, just as unable to make their own decisions as you were. Yeah, you definitely needed to try something bigger to scare them off.
Briefly, you thought that you could maybe tell them, just say point blank, “Amelia, Janet, I hate being around you and this friendship is done.” But, again, you figured that wouldn’t be good enough, that they’d laugh at your mean sense of humor even if you reiterated yourself. In this crowd, being mean was never enough to make your point, because all of you were nasty, not only to each other but to virtually everyone you met.
And despite your well-known attitude problem, you still cared about Amelia and Janet, flaws and all. These were the girls that you’d known since you were five years old, of course you worried about their feelings at least a little bit - nearly 13 years of friendship would do that to anyone. Guess you had more of a heart than you gave yourself credit for.
You definitely needed a foolproof plan to get out of this friendship, this social circle, this popular bubble that you’d always been trapped in. The friendship had to end without you saying so. You had to push them out until they finally gave up on you. Make it seem like it was their idea, that would definitely work on them.
As you schemed, Amelia and Janet chatted around you. Various acquaintances stopped by the table, all with the same question: what the hell were you guys doing sitting all the way out here? Even Duncan was amongst those that asked, trying to ignore the way you glared daggers at him. Amelia and Janet gave various responses, all of which put blame on you as if this simple little decision meant their utter ruination.
As Duncan was preparing to walk back to your usual lunch table, a commotion rose out in the hallway, the echo of rapid footfall drifting in through the doors. Multiple heads turned to face the cafeteria doors with curiosity, some people peeked out into the hall to check what the yelling was about, scurrying back to their friends to report what they’d seen. You, Amelia, Janet, and Duncan all waited silently, sharing raised brows and curious looks.
Not even a minute later, Eddie freaking Munson came crashing into the lunchroom, a look of total glee on his face as he cackled, not even remotely fazed by all the eyes on him. As he tumbled through the cafeteria doors, you jumped a little at the burst of sound. Eddie’s disruption turned everyone’s heads now, the lunchroom silent in shock and loathing as the resident outcast ran between tables, heading for the set of doors at the opposite end of the room. Your gaze was locked on the shit disturber as he blew past your table, carelessly running into Duncan in the process, but even that collision didn’t slow him down. Duncan yelled at him, but Eddie was focused on one goal, and if this were a cartoon you definitely would have seen dust kick up behind him from how quickly he was moving.
Not too far behind was Coach Miller, a look of absolute rage marring his puffy red face as he pursued Eddie. It didn’t even seem to cross his mind that he was making a fool of himself in front of the entire student body - his only focus was stopping the offender of whatever shenanigans currently pissed him off.
Your gaze turned back to the excited Eddie, an undeniable curiosity rising in you - what the hell did he do to piss off Coach Miller this bad? Sure, the coach was always pretty damn temperamental, but you couldn’t recall ever seeing him look quite this upset before.
Eddie paused at the cafeteria doors to turn and pull a mocking face at the coach before darting from the room, as if nothing in the world could touch him and he was unstoppable.
As Coach Miller disappeared after Eddie and students returned to their usual conversations, albeit with an air of awkwardness, you stared at the cafeteria doors thoughtfully.
That’s when an idea began to form.
You needed to take a page out of Eddie Munson’s book. If anyone in this school knew how to be a thorn in everyone’s side, it was him. So, you spent the remainder of your lunch brainstorming, trying to figure out how to channel even a sliver of Eddie’s energy; you only chimed into the conversation when someone spoke to you directly.
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In the middle of fifth period, you still weren’t quite sure what your game plan was, but you at least had a vague starting point. While your history teacher rambled on about some significant European war that you couldn’t begin to care about, you tapped your pencil as you thought about Eddie Munson (a sentence that very nearly grossed you out).
You’ve known about him since your freshman year - at the time, he was a year ahead of you, but since then he’d been held back. People always sneered when talking about him, as if Eddie was the most offensive thing they’d ever encountered, as if he was some kind of plague. He went against all social norms you’d learned up to that point, he was contradictory to everything you’d ever been taught about social conduct and likeability - he wore ratty clothes, listened to scary music, acted out in the most theatrical ways possible, and never seemed to give a shit what anyone thought.
You had never spoken to Eddie personally. Through the years you’d had a few classes together, including your math class this year, so you’ve witnessed some of his antics. But really, you knew nothing about the guy. Just the things that everyone else told you, and those things were nothing good. Whether or not Eddie was as bad as people said didn’t matter to you. His reputation was shit, and in this instance that’s exactly what you needed.
So, how were you going to ruin your senior year with the help of Eddie Munson? Well, at the very least, maybe you first had to have a conversation with him. It would be pretty stupid to walk up to him and go “hey, Munson, I know everyone here hates you, how about we chat and you make them hate me, too!”
Maybe you needed to find a way to hang out with him? Pretend to be friends long enough that the rest of the student body begins to ostracize you? With a little amused huff, an even worse thought crossed you: maybe you needed to pretend you were interested in Eddie Munson for a while, that was sure to piss just about everyone off. Especially Duncan.
But then the idea gave you pause.
You could not pretend to flirt with, or even date, Eddie fucking Munson. No chance in hell that would work. No way he would go for it, and no way you’d be able to tolerate him long enough to convince anyone that you were even remotely into him.
But… maybe?
Shit, what a stupid idea.
Or maybe it was a brilliant one.
You mulled it over a few minutes longer - if you were going to, somehow, convince Eddie Munson to pretend to date you, you needed to offer him something in exchange, that was obvious. You needed to give him a good reason to help you out, or this plan was never going to work. Its chances of success already seemed slim to none.
You had one idea, though you weren’t entirely certain if he’d go for it.
Your Uncle Tom was a cop, had been with the force your entire life - and you’d bet he’s probably had at least one run-in with Eddie. Maybe you’d tell Eddie that you could get cops to leave him alone, to stop watching him wearily whenever they were around. You couldn’t promise him too much, of course, but you knew at the very least that you could get your uncle to leave him alone. Or you could even take the fall here and there for whatever trouble Eddie inevitably lands himself in - what cop was stupid enough to arrest the niece of a cop and the daughter of a man who owned half of Hawkins?
It wasn’t foolproof, and you knew there were flaws to be found, but it just might work.
So, with your mind made up, you rip a scrap of paper from your notebook and scribble out a quick message:
Let’s make a deal. Sunday. You pick the time and place. Locker #436
You’d hoped that Eddie would be smart enough to realize that you wanted him to write you back, to drop his own stupid note in your locker so you could meet up and tell him your stupid, crazy idea. God, this better work.
You swiftly raise your hand in the air, giving a small impatient wave when your teacher didn’t acknowledge you right away, instead trying to focus on his lecture.
He rolled his eyes when he spotted your hand in the air, pointing at you and saying in an annoyed monotone, “What’s so important that you’re interrupting?”
Without any hesitation, you state bluntly, “Lady troubles.”
The teacher looks shocked by how plainly you stated it. But because it was you that said it and not someone else, your peers didn’t dare laugh, although a couple boys seemed to choke in surprise or amusement.
“Go, go…” Your teacher waved you off before continuing his lecture, wanting to forget the small interaction entirely.
You exited the room and roamed the halls confidently. Eddie’s locker wasn’t hard to miss - he was one of the students that decorated the metal with crude permanent marker sketches, and the school was too cheap to care about replacing or painting over it. As you approached Eddie’s locker, you checked around to make sure no one spotted you; it wasn’t as if you were committing a crime, but you didn’t need anyone wondering what you were up to in case this plan didn’t work.
So, you slipped the note into his locker, returned to class, and waited impatiently for the final bell of the day to ring, hoping that Eddie would actually stop by his locker and not just leave school without ever seeing your note.
When the end of the day came, it took everything in your power not to rush back to your own locker - just in case, you didn’t want him spotting you there. Why all the secrecy, you sure as hell didn’t know, but you nonetheless continued it.
So, you waited, stopping into the bathroom to check your makeup, walking with Amelia and Janet as they stopped at their own lockers. As the three of you exited the building and walked into the parking lot, you pretended to remember something, telling them that you needed to run back inside. You said your quick goodbyes and went back to wandering the halls, finally opening up your own locker.
It was stupid that your heart leapt when you saw a crudely torn piece of paper resting on top of some of your belongings.
You opened it quickly, eagerly reading the metalhead’s response:
Picnic table behind the football field, 4.
God, what were you getting yourself into.
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mieczyslawsravenclaw · 2 months
Text
Eidetic Memory Be Damned -Spencer Reid
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•Pairing - Spencer Reid x FemFBIAgent!Reader
•Rating - 18+, Minors DNI - Smut - NSFW!!!
•Summary/Prompt - Spencer is tired of only having the memory of you to enjoy during his spicy times , so he just has to intrude into your hotel room after a case is finished…
•Warnings/Content - p in the v unprotected (hey kids- DONT DO IT) ; cursing ; Spence loves to beg to nut in you and does so ; creampie ; some pain play? (just a lil hand on the throat dealio and some hair pulling) ; LOTS of praise on both sides (good boy, pretty girl, etc) ; very mf horny lol ; (basically they do just about everything from first base to last bestie slay)
•Word Count - 3.3k
•Authorʼs Note(s) - Iʼm so mf rusty at writing smut so this is probs not the best, I just wanted to write some Spencer spice cause I had a spicy dream about him lmao RIP >_< Also this'll be my first official post of my writing on Tumblr slayyyyy
•Additional Tags - Switch!Spencer , Switch!Reader , Spencer is a needy brat LMAO , Team has ‘no ideaʼ you two are hooking up (Be so mf fr they do) , Good aftercare is so valid , Spencer loves being cuffed and teased muahaha
As much as this last case had taken out of me, I was more than happy to get to spend some time in my hotel room while the jet refueled and everyone got their bearings. Itʼs not home - far from it, Iʼd been missing my own bed for the majority of our time here in whatever state it was now - but at least it was something.
But of course, the reprieve wouldnʼt last long - a sharp knock on my door confirmed that, about 20 minutes after Iʼd laid down to sleep.
“What…ˮ I groan, frustratedly looking over at the clock.
The knock, again, more persistent this time. And I recognize its pattern now, three short tap-taps. Spencer.
My heartbeat, despite my minor annoyance at being woken up, is hammering now. Spencer seems to do that to me, from the moment Iʼd realized I have feelings for him, carrying into whatever it is that we are now. Secret trysts that Iʼm sure are no secret to our team members, especially Garcia, because sheʼd pried it out of me almost immediately and now waits in her dark little room with nothing else but excitement for the latest updates on us, it seems.
“Are you awake?ˮ A gentle but still much-too-loud voice asks.
I tumble out of bed, rushing to the door. I donʼt even have time to make sure I look okay - Iʼm much too worried about anyone else hearing him. The door is unlocked and pulled open in record time, a stunned lanky man quickly and semi-quietly forced inside.
“Spence, someoneʼs gonna hear you if you keep on like that.ˮ I chastise him, shutting and locking the door behind us. No sooner have I done so, than his lithe form overtakes me, nestling into the crook of my neck with a groan that seems both relieved and not relieved at all.
“Donʼt care,ˮ He pushes me back, until my legs meet the mattress and fold. Quickly following on top of me, he sighs, “Been too long. I miss you. You know I have an eidetic memory, yeah? Doesnʼt mean shit when Iʼm up late and even thoughts of you arenʼt enough to keep me satiated.ˮ
“Someoneʼs gonna-ˮ Hear, I want to say. He knows, of course he does. And Iʼm only half-complaining, with his lips at my neck and his leg sneaking up between mine the way he also knows.
“Donʼt care.ˮ He repeats, the low moan at the back of his throat breaking through into the silent room. “I told you I miss you. Should I tell you about what I use my memory for? And just how much that hasnʼt been enough lately? Or should I show you?ˮ
Itʼs clearly a rhetorical question, but still, he seeks the permission I am more than happy to grant.
“Tell me. Uh, show me. I mean-ˮ
“I can do both,ˮ Even in the dark, I know heʼs got that matter of fact smirk on his lips. He reaches down, holding me by the hip with one hand while the other slips into my pajamas, a practiced motion heʼs all too good at by now. “Usually this is what I remember first. The way your skin feels, how nice it is to make you tremble beneath my touch.ˮ
I buck up, and he chuckles.
“All too eager, arenʼt you? Clearly youʼve been thinking about it too, huh, pretty girl?ˮ A pointed question he knows Iʼll struggle to answer, with his hand and his voice torturing me so.
“No eid- identical- uh, no memory recall whatever for me.ˮ
“Still wouldnʼt satiate, I bet.ˮ He remarks, casually rubbing circles and patterns over my panties. This is how he operates, surely and with no warning. A gentle but firm kiss to my jaw, and he continues, “Itʼs like that for me, at least. I know no amount of recalling how you feel under me will be enough to match just how nice it is.ˮ
Heʼs right, and of course he is; I can barely handle the teasing, the tone his voice has taken in this short amount of time. And I currently dont care if weʼre heard, either.
“Spence-ˮ
“What is it, sweetheart? Too much for you? Not enough?ˮ
“Please?ˮ
“Words, honey. Youʼve gotta use your words. Or you can show me, Iʼm okay withthat too.ˮ He guides my hand down to his.
“More.ˮ I plead, working to undress myself before his hands take over.
“You only have to ask.ˮ
True to his word, Spencer pulls the fabric away, no longer allowing it to be a block between us. Itʼs lost somewhere in the sheets as he kisses me, his practiced hands no longer in the mood to tease. He slips a finger in, and when I let out a keening whine, another, his free hand going automatically to my mouth.
“Now as much as I say I donʼt care, youʼve gotta be a little quiet for me,ˮ He goads, knowing this will only make it harder for me to do so. His breath is hot in my ear, his fingers working a motion thatʼs both breaking pent up weeks old frustration, and yet causing more tension in my belly. “Much as I love your voice. Your sounds. The-ˮ
I rut up against him, my lips opening around his thumb. He works it into my mouth, his voice lowering even further.
“Cmon, show me how much you missed me, huh, princess?ˮ
I moan, words lost in my mind as it spins. Every tug of his fingers between my thighs is building a high Iʼm chasing, and when I get to this point, Iʼm not talking - he is. And he knows it, knows the right words to say to build and break me.
“This is what Iʼm after, this is what I canʼt just remember. Because itʼs all too much to remember how good it feels to destroy you.ˮ
Please, please. I canʼt hold off much longer.
“Now are you gonna cum for me, sweetheart?ˮ
I nod, lips opening and letting his hand free from my mouth as my breaths grow heavy. “Canʼt - Please, Spence, please-ˮ
He presses me further into the mattress, murmuring sweet and dirty nothings into my ear as the dam breaks and I ride my high. Iʼm far too sensitive following, and when I try to push him away for a moment, allow myself to collect some sort of reprieve before we continue, he chuckles lowly.
“See, I can recall that clear as day. But itʼs so much sweeter to have it happening in front of me, you know?ˮ He nestles in beside me, turning me to face him.
Nigh immediately, Iʼm reaching for his belt buckle. Of course he wouldnʼt have changed into comfortable clothes, not even this late- Iʼm sure this was his plan all along, and he tried to fight it as long as he could.
“Someoneʼs eager.ˮ He quips, the smirk growing.
“Youʼve got me thinking about it,ˮ I sigh, letting him maneuver himself out of the constricting clothing. “Coming over and getting me all hot and bothered. I really ought to…ˮ
“Ought to what?ˮ He goads, pulling me onto him with a low noise as we brush together. “Hmm? Are you gonna say…you ought to punish me?ˮ
I nod, rubbing back against him. He lets out a moan, hands gripping my hips tighter.
“I remember how that feels,ˮ He pulls me closer, voice dropping. “But for your sake, maybe you should refresh me.ˮ
When he reaches for me again, I pull back, pinning his hands down above his head. I know he could get out of it if he really wanted to - Iʼm strong, but not stronger than him - but he most certainly doesnʼt want to get out of it. And Iʼm enjoying it far too much to stop myself now.
“Whatʼre you gonna do, cuff me?ˮ He snaps, the bratty attitude far too practiced and already making me a soaking mess.
“I might.ˮ I reach for my pair, knowing all too well that heʼll absolutely lose it once I let go on him. I can hardly stand the anticipation. “Scared, Reid?ˮ
“Terrified. Please, donʼt. Iʼve been a good boy, I swear.ˮ
I push him back while he pleads, tightening the metal around his wrists. The look on his face, muffled as it is by the darkness of the room, is more than enough to spur me on.
“Not thinking about this at all, huh?ˮ I shed my top, if only for the knowledge that his inability to reach for my breasts drives him utterly insane. “And Iʼm sure you havenʼt spent many late nights with the memory of me riding you, have you? Havenʼt had your hands on that pretty cock of yours, thinking about how it feels when itʼs me, yeah?ˮ
“N-Not at all.ˮ
“Itʼs a shame, then.ˮ I tease, feeling him harden beneath me with every word. “Iʼll have to make you confess, I suppose.ˮ
His eyes follow my every move as I back up, slotting between his legs and bending down to kiss along his hips.
“Youʼll never get it out of me.ˮ He groans.
“Is that a promise or a challenge?ˮ I ask, not breaking eye contact as I place a kiss on his sensitive head.
“Challenge? Would I…challenge you?ˮ He still holds onto a moment of sanity, until I take him in my mouth, and itʼs lost with a sigh of, “Oh, would I.ˮ
I bob my head, my practiced motions coming in handy now. The usually-full-of- remarks Spencer Reid folds under my touch, soft deep moans and babble of confessions and wish I could pull your hair passing his lips while I work him out.
After a few moments of this, I let him free - at least from the torture of my lips.
“Where are you going? Please, I wanna cum for you, Iʼll tell you everything I did while I couldnʼt stand to wait for you.ˮ He keens.
“Oh, Iʼm far from done with you, Spence.ˮ I slowly, agonizingly slowly, climb back on top of him, making sure to back right up against him as he tightens against the cuffs. “Donʼt you worry, Iʼll have every measly confession pouring from you. You know I will.ˮ
“Please, let me out- Gotta touch you, I just gotta-ˮ
“Shh, be good for me, wonʼt you?ˮ I lift myself over his face, pressing my folds to his lips. “Unless you wanna stay in those forever.ˮ
He shakes his head, vibrating a ‘noʼ against me.
“Good. Now youʼre gonna pay your dues and clean up the mess youʼve made.ˮ
Eagerly, he laps at me like heʼs never had it before. His utter submissiveness overwhelms him, letting me ride his face to my hearts content. Words are muffled and entirely lost in it, and I know by now that the sounds Iʼm making alone will be heard, but I donʼt really care. Iʼm too far gone in how good it feels to finally have him making me cum again.
“Can I touch you now?ˮ
I slide back onto him, teasingly letting myself rest with just the edge of him pressing into my folds.
“Can you?ˮ I look pointedly at his wrists.
“I-oh, my god, clearly not, but-ˮ
“How about this?ˮ I amend. “You give me a confession, you get a reward. Sound fair?ˮ
“Yeah, sounds just fine. I couldnʼt get off without coming here, you realize that, donʼt you? Youʼre the only thing that gets me off anymo-Oh-ˮ His confession is cut short as I slide him a bit further in, just enough to spur him further. “I mean, I get off, donʼt get me wrong here. But nothing feels as good as when itʼs with you. Nothing.ˮ
“Keep going, youʼre doing good.ˮ I praise, sinking a bit deeper.
“Goddamn you feel so good.ˮ He moans. “Like, my hands canʼt even come close to this, are you kidding? I can try all I want, and believe me, I have - Oh, my god, please donʼt stop - Iʼve been trying all the time, I admit that, canʼt hardly stand being around you and not being able to just fuck you whenever I want.ˮ
I push down further, the stretch he gives me loosing my own moan. “How much do you wanna fuck me, Spence? Tell me, please.ˮ
“God, all the time. Itʼs all I can think about when I get down to it - baby, can I please touch you now?ˮ
“Punishment is a bitch, isnʼt it, Reid?ˮ I smirk, starting to push him in and out of me, slowly and with a devious grin that falters at just how damn good it is.
“Baby, Iʼm gonna get outta these and fuck you so good-ˮ
“Try it.ˮ I raise an eyebrow, stopping my motions.
“Oh- No, Iʼm sorry, please donʼt stop. Iʼll be good, I promise.ˮ
“Yeah, you will.ˮ I drop as far as I can take him, savoring the stuttered animalistic groan he lets out as I press down onto him, pulling his hair and moving my hips around him. As he is want to do, heʼs thrusting up into me, even if heʼs unable to reach me with his hands held up as they are. “Eager, sweet boy. Iʼm gonna ruin you.ˮ
And ruin him, I do. The tension and heat in my belly rides and breaks several times, with him unable to form real words except for the continuous begging of please donʼt stop repeated on a loop until I feel Iʼm satisfied with his demeanor.
Once Iʼve tortured him enough, I reach for the cuffs, ready to let him off the leash - knowing that once I do, the balance will shift. Truthfully, Iʼm just eager to let him be true to his word and fuck me like heʼs been dying to.
“You donʼt need any more confessions from me, then?ˮ He huffs, sweat slicked across his brow from the effort of holding back - though heʼs not really done so, has he?
“One last one, I suppose.ˮ I pull off of him, and the pout he gives nearly makes me sit right back down on him again.
“Alright, Iʼll be good and honest with you, then.ˮ He continues while I set to unlocking the cuffs, “You know the other day, just after we got the final piece of evidence put together?ˮ
I nod.
ˮI was so psyched, I couldʼve taken you right there. I donʼt care that everyone would have known, would have seen. Itʼs just something you do to me.ˮ He finishes, his tone light. Oh boy, Iʼm about to get railed. “I love you. And now Iʼm gonna fuck you like Iʼve been wanting to for weeks.ˮ
No sooner is he free, tearing off the shirt he was wearing and looming over me with the hungriest of looks at my body before pressing himself into me. No wait, no teasing - heʼs not got the control for it, clearly, and Iʼm not complaining one bit.
“Next time, you get the cuffs, pretty girl.ˮ He promises, his hands all over my body now that he can manage it. Hard, precise thrusts, his voice heavy and fucked-out.
“And Iʼll show you just what Iʼve been wanting to do that Iʼm gonna savor in my mind after.ˮ
My nails are leaving deep trails in his back, surely leading to marks that would raise questions if anyone else saw. Heʼs so far in me, almost bottomed out, and itʼs almost too much and yet not enough all at once. I pull him closer, and his hand tangles in my hair while the other clasps around my throat.
“Youʼre all mine.ˮ Spencer growls - truly, thereʼs not other word for it, the purely animal drive taking him to a world where itʼs just us, just this. And Iʼm there too, crying out with the ecstasy his body causes my own.
“All yours.ˮ
“Thatʼs right, pretty girl. Say it for me, I wanna hear you say it.ˮ
“Iʼm all yours, Spence- oh, my god-ˮ
“Good, thatʼs good. My pretty girl. Youʼre so tight, you feel so good wrapped around me, donʼt you? God, what a sight.ˮ Here he is, in his rambles now, and I can hardly contain how close I am. “Wanna tell everyone this is mine. Iʼm the only one that gets to have you, gets to fuck you like this. See you break for me. Only me.ˮ
“Only you, Spence, only you-ˮ
“Cʼmon, I know youʼre close, I can feel it. You get so much tighter, god, if itʼs even possible-ˮ
“Spencer-ˮ
“Thatʼs my girl, cum for me.ˮ
“Donʼt stop-ˮ I can feel the cord in me ready to snap, chasing my most intense orgasm of the night with his words and the feeling of him slamming so deep inside me. “More, Spence, you can give me more-ˮ
“Sweet girl, of course, I know you can handle it.ˮ He pushes himself fully in, my breath catching at the slight pain, yet itʼs still so good, I canʼt stop it, I donʼt want to. “Want me to fuck you so good with all of me, donʼt you?ˮ
I nod against his grasp, and he loosens it a bit, kissing me fervently.
“Please, please cum for me, I wanna feel you all over me, beautiful.ˮ He reaches down, his thumb rubbing circles on my clit. Itʼs the last thing I need to send me over that edge, and I cry out, his name slipping past my lips unwarranted. “Oh, baby, love how you say my name. Like itʼs a prayer, like Iʼm a god.ˮ
“Donʼt stop, Spence-ˮ
“Iʼm close, baby- Oh, I wanna cum in you-ˮ
Another orgasm follows near immediately after this one, and Iʼm grasping at him while heʼs chasing his own, his hands fumbling and his thrusts getting sloppy. He grips the sheets, his breaths stunted.
“Cum in me, please-ˮ
“Iʼm gonna, god, Iʼm so fuckinʼ close-ˮ He tightens around me, muscles shaking as he lets loose, and now itʼs his turn to moan my name a lot louder than he should while he cums. Heʼs so pretty when he does, too - the crease that works between his brows, the round pucker to his lips. Partly through, he kisses me, hard. And when heʼs done, his grip loosens, falling slack on top of me with a contented sigh.
A few moments pass where he just holds me, peppering soft kisses across my face and telling me you did such a good job, baby. Then, he pops up with a smile and comes back with water and a towel, cleaning up after himself.
“Satisfied?ˮ I chuckle, slowly pulling my clothes back on.
“Almost.ˮ He dips his head down, capturing a nipple in his mouth for a few moments. I groan, overstimulated, but still too happy to appease him. “Now, Iʼm satisfied. Iʼm staying in here, okay? Donʼt care if someone sees at this point.ˮ
“Spence?ˮ
“Mmhm?ˮ
“I love you, too.ˮ
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dixons-sunshine · 2 months
Text
You Are My Sunshine | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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*GIF isn't mine*
Summary: Being pregnant was a challenge, and being pregnant in an apocalypse came with a whole set of challenges on its own. Luckily, you had Daryl to take care of you, even if he was sometimes a little bit overprotective.
Genre: Fluff
Era: Alexandria, post Saviour war, pre the building of the bridge.
Warnings: Swearing, probably other things I can't think of right now.
A/n: My requests are open for any TWD character if y'all wanna send any! Also, I don't really know if pregnant ladies not being allowed to lift heavy things is factual or not. I just remembered someone telling me once that it could be harmful for the unborn child, and I've seen it being mentioned in movies and shows before, so I went based off of that. If it isn't true, please pretend that it is for my sake lol 🥲. (This is so rushed. I'm sorry for the bad writing 😭)
“Daryl, I'm perfectly capable of carrying it myself, you know.”
“I know ya can, but it dun' mean ya have to. Ya need to take it easy.”
You rolled your eyes and shook your head, a small smile spreading over your face. “Dar, I have to do something. I can't let everyone else do everything while I sit on my ass all day.”
“Yer pregnant, I ain't lettin' ya overwork yerself. Anyone have a problem with tha', let me know and I'll handle 'em. I ain't lettin' anythin' happen to our baby jus' 'cause some people can't pick up the slack and ya have to do their work for 'em.”
“I highly doubt carrying one crate is gonna do anything,” you stated matter-of-factly, walking at a steady pace beside the archer while he was carrying the crate in question back to the pantry.
“Ain't riskin' it,” Daryl retorted with a sense of finality, pushing the crate onto one of the shelves before turning to you. He took a step towards you and placed a gentle hand on your growing bump, looking at you with a soft expression. “Ya and this baby, our baby, are the most important people in the world to me. I ain't lettin' anythin' happen to the two of ya. If tha' means carryin' a crate so tha' ya can rest or fightin' off a herd of walkers so tha' yer safe, so be it. I'd do anythin' for ya and our little one.”
You smiled softly at the archer you've grown to love above everything else. You leaned forward to press a quick, gentle peck on his cheek before leaning back, giggling at the bashful look and blush that coated Daryl's face from the small action. “Sorry,” you said with a light laugh, aware of his feelings of public displays of affection. “You're just too adorable sometimes, you know that?”
That elicited a scoff from Daryl. He withdrew his hand from your bump and stepped back, ducking his head down to let his hair hide the growing blush on his face. “I ain't adorable,” he retorted quietly.
“You are,” you responded with a light laugh. “There's nothing you can say that'll change my mind about that. You, Daryl Dixon, are adorable, sweet, caring and so much more. There honestly aren't enough adjectives in the dictionary to describe how perfect you are to me.”
Daryl scoffed again. He shook his head at you, but you could see his mouth twitch up into a small smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Nah,” he started, glancing at you through the hair that hung in front of his eyes. “Yer the perfect one. ‘M lucky to call ya mine.”
“Don't start with me, Dixon. We can go back and forth about who's more perfect all day,” you joked, successfully gaining a small chuckle from him in response.
“Alrigh’,” he started, taking a step forward to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “I ain't about to start an argument with the pregnant lady.”
“If that's the case, does that mean I can help out with the tasks around here?” you asked, batting your eyelashes up at him innocently.
Daryl scoffed and shook his head. “Nah, tha' I ain't lettin' happen. I was talkin' 'bout petty arguments. Ya need to take it easy and rest. Leave the work to the people who ain't got unborn babies in their bellies they have to worry 'bout.”
“Daryl—” you started, about to voice your protest, but the archer cut you off.
“None of tha',” he said with a shake of his head, his tone stern. “Ya remember the times ya wouldn't let me do much to help out when I was hurt? I could help jus' fine too, but ya were worried 'bout me and takin' care of me. Let me take care of ya now, alrigh'? Ya have more at stake here than tearin' a few stitches.”
You pondered over his words for a few moments, hesitantly nodding after a few seconds. “Alright,” you finally agreed with a small sigh. “I haven't really been getting much sleep these past few days. I guess I can go take a nap or something if that'll make you feel better.”
“Hey,” Daryl started, taking one of your hands in his. “This ain't because I think yer incapable to help out or somethin'. I know ya can, but I would feel better knowin' yer not accidentally overworking yerself. I've seen it happen before. Ya'd get so focused on a task and would overwork yerself without even knowin' it. I don't want tha' to happen to ya righ' now.”
“Okay,” you nodded, willing the feelings of being useless away at the archer's reassuring words, knowing he spoke nothing but the truth. “But the moment you guys desperately need an extra pair of hands, promise me you'll come get me?”
Daryl nodded half-heartedly, and you could tell that even if he promised he would, he probably wouldn't come get you. He'd put yours and your baby's safety above everything else, even at the cost of a few extra hours of work for him and the other Alexandrians.
You leaned up on your toes to press a feathery light kiss to his lips before withdrawing. You gave him a smile before turning to walk out of the pantry towards the home you shared with him. As soon as you reached the front door of your home and pushed inside, you shrugged off your jacket and kicked off your shoes, discarding them by the table next to the entrance. You looked at the expanse of the quiet house and sighed, knowing you'd be alone until the sun started to set.
Well, you thought to yourself, I might as well make the best of my time alone. You went towards the kitchen to get a glass of water before descending up the stairs towards your room. You changed into something more comfortable before settling down on the bed, grabbing the book you were busy reading and flipping to the page you were busy with. You absentmindedly placed one hand over your stomach, the other holding the book as your eyes started to trail over the words on the page.
After a while, the words on the page started to blur together. You blinked repeatedly, hoping to clear your vision, but to no avail. Your eyes fell closed on their own accord, and within a few moments, you were asleep.
The feeling of the bed dipping beside you awoke you from your slumber. You opened your eyes and brought one of your hands up to wipe the sleep out of your eyes. When your vision cleared, you locked eyes with Daryl, the man having a faint, soft smile on his face.
“Sorry. I didn't mean to wake ya,” he apologized, bringing a hand up to brush the stray hair back and away from your eyes.
“It's okay,” you reassured him, bringing yourself up to a sitting position. You grabbed the book that you had read before falling asleep and placed it on your bedside table, before shifting your attention back to the archer.
Daryl was seated on the edge of the bed, busy pulling his boots off of his feet. When he was done, he layed back against the headboard, bringing his legs up to rest on the bed. His shoulders were slightly slumped, his posture giving away how tired he was. You furrowed your eyebrows at that. The workload hadn't been that much that day, and as soon as the people were done they could return to their homes, so you couldn't understand why Daryl looked so tired. Unless...
“Daryl,” you said softly, instantly catching the archer's attention. “Did more work come in while I was here at home?” Daryl's silence was enough of an answer. “Daryl—”
“’S fine, nothin' we couldn't handle. Just some buildin' materials Maggie and the King sent us from their communities to fix up more houses. Rick wanted to get started on the repairs today, so Aaron and I got some people together to start.”
“Daryl,” you started, shaking your head. “I told you that if you needed an extra pair of hands to come and get me.”
“Nah, we were fine. Ya clearly needed the rest.”
“But—” you started to retort, but Daryl cut you off instantly.
“Michonne told me tha' really heavy liftin' ain't good fer a pregnant lady. Said it can hurt the baby, so I didn't want ya carryin' logs and other heavy materials around. The rest of us can handle tha'.”
“When did you talk to Michonne?” you asked skeptically, your eyes narrowing in suspicion.
A sheepish look graced Daryl's features. He avoided your gaze and instead focused his eyes on the bedsheets. “About a week after we found out tha' ya were pregnant,” he admitted, nervously chewing on his bottom lip. “I was askin' her and Carol wha' I could do to help make yer pregnancy easier, what would help with yer mornin' sickness and what ya should avoid doin', and she told me tha' ya needed to refrain from liftin' heavy things. Said it could harm the baby.”
“So that's why you've been so against me helping out around here?” you asked, earning a nod of confirmation from Daryl.
“Yeah. Most of the work we gotta do 'round here involves heavy liftin', and I didn't want ya accidentally hurtin' yourself or our little one because of it. Tha's why I've been so adamant about ya takin' it easy,” he confirmed, ducking his head in embarrassment. “I didn't wanna be overbearin', but ya really wanted to help out with everythin' and the thought of somethin' goin' wrong because of all the hard work we have to do was too much fer me to handle. ’M sorry.”
You gently grabbed Daryl's hand, bringing it up to softly kiss his knuckles. “Why are you sorry? For not wanting anything to happen to me or our baby? You don't have anything to apologize for. If anything, I should be apologizing.”
“Fer wha'?” Daryl asked confusedly, intertwining your fingers with his.
“For being so adamant about working. I just... I didn't want to feel useless. I didn't want to feel like a burden because I couldn't help out.”
Daryl's eyebrows furrowed, his lips pressing together tightly. “Yer not a burden. Dun' ever think tha'. Yer carryin' a life in yer belly, and tha's takin' up most of yer energy and time. If anybody has a problem with the fact tha' ya can't work as hard as ya used to fer the next few months because yer pregnant, let me know and I'll beat their ass.”
You smiled at him and pressed a kiss to his lips. When you pulled back, you could feel tears starting to form in your eyes. Daryl noticed it and frowned, concern lacing his voice.
“Wha's wrong?” he asked frantically, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks gently. He wiped away the tears that fell with his thumb.
“Hormones,” you said simply, laughing through your tears. “I don't even really know why I'm crying.”
“C'mere,” Daryl said, wrapping his arms around you and guiding you to lay your head down on his chest. You shifted your body until your were comfortable, wrapping your arms around him as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Daryl's arms wrapped around you, one of his hands venturing down to your baby bump. He gently started to caress your stomach, his hand's soft movements making you sleepy almost instantly.
“’M sorry fer bein' so overprotective,” Daryl said after a few moments of silence, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.
“And I'm sorry for being so stubborn. I promise I'll be more careful and take it easier from now on,” you promised, nuzzling your head deeper into his chest.
“Thank god,” he sighed in relief. “Any more of yer stubbornness and I would've been forced to lock ya in the house whenever their was work to do.”
You laughed and lightly hit one of his arms that were wrapped around you, eliciting a chuckle from the archer. “I love you,” you mumbled into his chest.
“I love ya too,” he responded, placing another kiss on your head. "Now get some more rest. I'll be righ' here when ya wake up.”
You nodded against his chest and closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat, your own personal lullaby. As your eyes drifted closed for the second time that day, you swore you could hear Daryl start to hum a song. A song you've been singing to your baby in your stomach since you found out you were pregnant.
You are my sunshine.
A smile formed on your face as Daryl lowly continued to hum the song, his hand still gently caressing your stomach. With the gentle caress of his hand, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the song he was humming, you soon drifted into slumber, safe in your archer's arms.
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