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#there's stuff here i'm sure i'm missing because i don't get it at all
justagalwhowrites · 2 days
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i’m interested to see how joel would react to doc getting killed!! or bitten…. i love the angst tbh! 😅 maybe during that awkward time period where they weren’t really talking but still hooking up.. they still loved eachother so much couldn’t say it because they “hated” eachother 😮
OMG Hi Bestie! 
OK so because I'm a masochist (who shares in this fun hobby of tormenting myself with images of pain with someone who shall remain nameless) I've thought about this a lot. Shared below, with permission, is some of the noodling I've done on this topic with the aforementioned anonymous person who likes to give me INCREDIBLY ANGSTY AND DEPRESSING THOUGHT EXERCISES I SWEAR THIS IS A TWO WAY STREET Y'ALL. Please note that none of this is in story format and Doc is she instead of you because that's how I think about the fic in abstract terms? I guess? I don't know lol it's a mess in my head.
ANYWAY 
Putting this below the cut because it's probably a step beyond angst. I cannot stress enough that this is like... super depressing and also COMPLETELY RAW AND UNEDITED, all I did was pull out comments/prompts from the other person out of respect for them. So please limit your judgement as much as possible this stuff is real bad lol 
Below is Joel if she got bit on the Harvard run.
how terrified he was when he thought she might be bitten, how the first place his mind went was "I can kill her and I'll only need to be around for a few seconds after she's gone"If she got bit and he needed to kill her, he'd try so hard to keep it together for her. She'd be low key panicking and be like "Please don't let me turn into one of those things, please just kill me, please" and he'd just brush her hair back and hold her face in his hand all gentle and be like "I won't baby, not gonna let you go through that, OK? I've got you, it's OK. It'll be real quick, won't feel a thing and I'll be right behind you, OK? I'm right behind you, it's OK" and he'd hold her when he did it so she didn't feel alone and he'd keep holding her when he did it to himself, too
If Doc died in the tub the night that Joel left her in the QZ 
Joel is trying to avoid herTommy goes to the clinic that day and she's not there, which he expects because she's not supposed to be there on Sundays, but hears someone say her name and how they aren't sure how they're going to cover everything without her and there's a "...I still really miss her" at the end and he's like "wtf' and so he asks until he finds someone who will actually talk to him and he's like "no, we're old friends, I just haven't seen her in a few weeks, what happened?" and Marta just kinda looks at him like "how can you not know this" and says "She died. They weren't really sure how, if she did it on purpose or if she passed out but she drowned in her bathtub" and Tommy is, of course, reeling because he loved her, too. But he's also like "Oh fuck I have to tell Joel" and he's kind of in a daze and just walks around the QZ for a few hours and he gets home and Joel is just like "the fuck is your problem" and he's like "Joel... brother, you... I need you to sit down, OK? Need you to just... stay calm for me, OK?" and he says her name and then kinda stops and Joel gets this bad feeling and is like "what" and Tommy is quiet and he's like "what, Tommy. What is it. She fuck up something else, what'd she do, what's going on" and he's just like "She's dead, Joel." and Joel is silent for a minute and then asks what happened and how and Tommy really doesn't want to tell Joel what they told him and so Joel just gets up and Tommy tries to stop him and he's like "Don't fucking touch me" and he goes to Andrew's and he pounds on the door until Andrew answers and Andrew looks like hell, he's lost weight and he looks like he's hardly slept and he looks kind of dead in the eyes until he sees Joel and then he just looks like he wants to just set him on fire and he's like "The fuck are you doing here"
and Joel is like "what happened, you have to know what happened, please, fuck, please tell me what happened to her" and Andrew shoves him and just yells "You! You happened, you fucking happened! She died that night you fucking asshole, she lived for you and she fucking died for you, too. I hope you're fucking happy" and Joel is just practically frozen there and just lets Andrew wail on him for a minute before he looks at him and goes "you must fuckin hate me, right?" "Oh I more than hate you you fucking..." "Good. Kill me. Don't... don't care how just... please, fuck just..." and Andrew just kind of laughs at him darkly and says "No, no I'm not doing you any fucking favors, Miller. I have to live with the fact that I left her alone that night. You get to live with the fact that her blood's on your hands." Jess pulls Andrew back inside and Joel just trudges home but Tommy is kind of waiting for him, he's already stashed all the guns and the knives and he got Tess because he knows what Joel is like when he loses someone like thatand Joel only asked Andrew to do it because he couldn't risk flinching again, he had to do it right this time and he goes for where he keeps his gun as soon as he's in the door and it's gone and Tommy is just crying and he's like "Joel, you can't, I'm sorry..." and he's like "Just give me the fuckin' gun, Tommy! I can't do this, not again, I can't, I can't" and he just drops to his knees and Tommy holds onto him Tommy and Tess take turns, he's literally never alone for months. Eventually they think he can be trusted on his own and he's OK for a while but I think it wouldn't take all that long before he's gone, too it wouldn't be as obvious as a gun, it'd be him making a stupid mistake and getting bit or shot or an accident on a job in the qzand all the time in between he'd be such a shell of himself, Tess and Tommy always sharing a look when it's especially bad like "this has to get better at some point, right?"and when it eventually happens, neither Tess or Tommy are ever sure if it's really an accident or not. Joel wasn't really sure either, he just knew that the last thing he thought of was that last morning before Doc flew back to New York where he got her pregnant in the water and her and Sarah made French toast
SO YEAH that's just the most depressing shit in the world lol 
LOVE YOU!!
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unhinged-nymph · 6 months
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So you're telling me that in the last MONTH alone we've gotten:
them bringing up 69ing in the nap video
several instances of "old married couple" and "i love you" in high profile interviews
rhett bringing up the fact that he has certainly NOT put link's dick in his mouth during the howie podcast
rhett bringing up that he overheard link having sex and then proceeded to have wild sex with his wife (his words not mine), and then the following night acknowledged that he was having sex in the same bed that Link did 24 hours prior and that it made them "closer" and that he wants to "return the favor" in the future
link not just sitting on rhett's lap but literally wedging his butt between rhett's thighs
rhett calling link daddy several times
some of those times being while link is bending him over a chair to spank him
them forcing the bit that their "outfits" were 69ing
and not to mention the abundance of longing stares and touches and all the other gay shit they normally do
edit: also forgot to include the merch with frog and toad and babalink??
how am i supposed to even begin to process this information ? literally what is going on lol
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mentally ill people who for whatever reason end up wearing the same exact clothing so many days in a row that it begins to disintegrate and will still not stop wearing it until it’s literally just scraps of fabric VS. those weird shitty rich people who ‘’can’t be seen in the same outfit twice’’ human dichotomy 
#poast brought to you by my pants that are missing an entire leg and completely open in the back and the front almost#to the point they could not really be considered pants anymore (I wear lots of layers so i have shorts under them but lol)#I tore them again sitting down and it made me introspect about when it's time to throw clothes out and how everyone has different standards#and etc. Like how some people will get stains on clothing and just throw it away#.where others will keep wearing stained stuff if they have an attachment to it. etc. etc.#or like One hole in jeans is okay but 20 holes is Crossing A Line - unless they were made that way as a fashion trend#which then made me think about those people who like.. change clothes multiple times a day and never want to rewear stuff#and just have a constant stream of fast fashion etc. Anyway. not a real dichotomy. just being silly. i like to think about humans behaviors#brggghghb.. still not being very productive as I just keep having flare up after flare up of various chronic issues I have so I'm feeling#sick like every few days but always for different reasons. As if something has increased the general  inflammation in my entire body#and its just bopping around making different things worse here and there. but I'm not sure of any underlying cause.#theorectially could always be stress since I am often stressed but I don't feel stressed more than usual. I have no infection markers#on blood tests and my covid tests so far have been negative. I guess my body just felt like 'hey happy new year. would you like.. uhm...#some... Problems.. as a treat? OuO''#I mean I'm lucky at this point that I don't have a condition that makes me completely bedridden or something and am grateful for that but#having so many smaller issues in the background overlapping all the time can be ehxausting and make it feel like a larger issue#because you just never get a break. once one problem clears up it's another. etc. modifying diet. supplements. doctors. new issue. new modif#ications. new doctors. new this#new that. etc. For my body to reach some sort of non-inflammed stable state I feel like I'm going to have to just be suspended in a gladd#*glass antigravity chamber for 3 years eating nothing but basic gruel and iv liquids. something so bland and so untriggering of anything#that literally nothing can be inflammed or etc. lol.. Though I'd probably still somehow have joint pain even with nogravity.#ANYWAY... I did finally edit a new sims video. for the few of you that follow my sims youtube. I have costumes totally ready to post I just#literally havent had the energy to queue up the photos. STILL WORKING ON EVIL WORLDBULDING SLIDESHOW task of  epic proportions#. other videos. other stuff. I've had to spend some time on social stuff since I really ned to get started finding friends in the potential#places I'd like to move so I know people when I get there. as it takes me like years to trust someone. but hjgh... I am so like. inherently#unrelatable to the average person. at least the avg people on friend making sites and stuff. I even made a perosnal compatibility quiz#but again.. thats something most people don't do lol... ''buhh just text snapchat me & get to know me through conversation why should i take#a 15 minute quiz up front?'' shut up. i woudl LOVE to take a custom compatibility quiz before talking to someone. its efficent. you will nev#er get it. that is a positive to me. if only anyone else did that. if only. (I'm being jokingly rude. its perfectly reaosnable for people to#have different standards and communication styles. etc. etc. lol) ANYWAY.. tldr me sleepy and feel bad no productive wehh
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astrophileous · 7 months
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Every Single Day
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Synopsis: When his daughter demands him to tell the story of how the two of you met, Spencer can't help but oblige.
Warning(s): dad spencer🥰, established relationship (eventually), parent-child relationships, alcohol consumption, brief interaction with a douchebag, made-up astronomy facts, made-up places, idk if there's any cursing but I'll throw it in here to be safe, implications of sex and nsfw themes (minors be advised), pregnancy, mentions of illness, mentions and/or implications of character death, topics of loss and grief, angst and fluff because I love the best of both worlds👍 (pls lmk if I missed anything)
Word Count: 7700-ish
Author's Note: hi 👋 I'm back again with another dad!spencer fic bc apparently I'm a sucker for him. I got a lil carried away with this one lol but anyways, I'm also writing this for the meet cute challenge hosted by the amazing and talented @imagining-in-the-margins so pls go head to her profile and show some love cause she's a peach ❤️ don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG
Criminal Minds Masterlist
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The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Against the wind, shades of crimson and orange swayed on the trees. Fallen leaves crunched underneath his feet to the cadence of his leisured steps.
Two deep breaths, in and out. Spencer Reid greeted autumn with the deep longing of an old friend.
Next to him walked a source of light bigger than the sun, jumping and bouncing excitedly on the sidewalk. Her tiny fingers emitted warmth inside of his hand. There was a skip to her step that reminded him of the innocence he had long lost. The innocence she now possessed.
Spencer loved this little girl beyond everything he had ever known.
"Puddle, Dee."
The tiny bundle of joy jumped to escape the small pool of water, grinning up at her father, who then began ruffling her hair until she evaded his onslaught with a shriek.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, Pumpkin?"
"You never told me how you met Mommy."
Spencer glanced down at the 6-year-old, dressed gorgeously in her favorite floral dress, complete with a sweater that had entailed a hearty discussion about humans' perception of cold. It was only after he bribed her with the promise of a chocolate cupcake from Wakey Bakey did Spencer finally convince her to wear the woolen piece of clothing.
His daughter stared at him with a radiant smile peeking out behind a curtain of hair. A smile which Spencer always argued had belonged to you, even though the rest of Diana Aurora Reid was the splitting image of her beloved father.
"Surely I've told you before, Dee."
"Nuh-uh."
"Of course I have."
"No, Daddy. You haven't."
"Pumpkin, you know I don't forget stuff ever," Spencer said, looking at the little girl who was swaying along to the rhythm of her footsteps. "I used to tell you that story all the time. Back when you were still a baby."
Just as predicted, Diana let out a dramatic gasp as if Spencer had uttered the most offensive thing known to mankind; like claiming the earth was actually flat, for example. Spencer couldn't contain his grin upon seeing her reaction.
"But Daddy, that was so long ago!"
"Do you not remember, Dee?"
Diana shook her head.
"Fine. But Mommy must've told you the story already, right?"
"She has, but--"
"But?"
"But I wanna hear it from you."
Little Diana knew that her father could never resist her puppy dog eyes, especially garnished with that adorable pout on top. Once upon a time, you declared it sickeningly cute and annoying whenever Spencer would pull the same trick on you. When Dee started doing the same to him, you had simply laughed and kissed his cheek, letting him get a sweet taste of his own medicine.
Spencer smiled at the young girl next to him, squeezing her nose and relishing in the gleeful squeal that echoed from her chest.
"What do you wanna hear, Pumpkin?"
Diana held her chin, seemingly deep in contemplation before deciding, "Everything, Dad! I wanna hear it from the start."
"The start, huh?" Spencer hummed thoughtfully, his mind already reeling back to the first moment he ever laid eyes on you.
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The story began on yet another ordinary Friday night.
Luck was on the BAU's side when the team managed to wrap the case they had been working all week just before Friday afternoon. By the time the sun was setting, their jet was already high up in the sky, en route from the state of Delaware to Quantico, Virginia. Spencer was looking forward to going home at a reasonable hour for once--maybe catching up on the four reading materials he had promptly pushed aside after his team was called to Delaware to work on the latest case--but that plan dissipated when Derek Morgan suddenly appeared by his side.
"Drinks. Tonight. Everyone's coming, and I'm not taking no for an answer," Derek said before dragging a reluctant Spencer away with him, ignoring the protests that the younger man kept grumbling under his breath all the way to the team's favorite bar.
Spencer just hadn't known it yet, but later down the road, he would spend the rest of eternity thanking Derek Morgan for dragging him along that night.
The Friday night crowd at Shaw's was borderline brutal, but fortunately for the team, a booth in the corner became vacant the moment they stepped into the threshold.
Two hours later, Spencer's fellow teammates weren't even close to calling it a night. The last chorus of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" by Whitney Houston had just finished blasting from the speakers when Derek sauntered back to the booth, twirling a flushed Penelope Garcia in front of him. Spencer slipped out of the booth to allow them in--preferring to stay on the most outer seat instead of crammed between his tipsy friends' bodies--before sitting down once more.
"Hey, Genius," Penelope called, waving her empty beer glass in front of Spencer's face. "Be a darling and get me a refill, will you?"
"Garcia--" Spencer quickly snatched the glass from her hand before she could send it smashing against someone's head, "--are you sure you want a refill?"
Penelope scrunched her nose. "Why do you ask?"
"Because I think you're plenty drunk already."
"I'm not that drunk," Penelope denied, giggling when an unexpected hiccup interrupted her slurred words. "Derek, tell the beautiful Doctor I'm not that drunk."
"She's not that drunk, Reid." Derek grinned. "While you're at it..."
Spencer could only sigh when Derek slid his own empty glass across the table.
It was past 10 o'clock at night, and the crowd of people in the establishment seemed to have doubled in the couple of hours that the team had been there. Spencer had to squeeze himself through the ocean of patrons flooding the bar, barely able to move his limbs without other people's arms or elbows bumping against his ribcage.
Spencer was waiting for the bartender to complete his order when he happened to glance towards his right, catching sight of the concealed panic that triggered every profiler bone in his body.
Any other person would have taken one look at your face and presumed that everything was alright, but Spencer knew better. He recognized the frantic movement of your eyes, the tight press of your lips, and the impatient knocking of your fingertips on the counter. He only caught the tail end of your voice before discreetly listening to what the man you were talking to had to say.
"--so, unfortunately, I can't."
"I told you, Baby. My Veyron runs at over 260 miles per hour. We can go to Red Clover Hill and get you back home safely by twelve. It's simple math," the guy slurred smugly.
"Actually, that's not true."
The drunken man turned around at Spencer's interruption.
"Excuse me?"
"The Red Clover Hill State Park is approximately 229 miles away from here. Though theoretically, you could drive your Veyron at its maximum velocity, which is around 268 miles per hour, it's very unlikely you'll be able to maintain that speed for the entirety of the ride, considering the terrain you would have to go through between here and there. The fastest you can probably get to the park is in 60 minutes, give or take, and that's being generous. You would have to drive back to D.C. as soon as you arrive at the park if you wish to be back by twelve. It's just realistically impossible."
The man in front of him couldn't be less impressed by Spencer's lengthy rant.
"And who the hell are you?" the drunken guy said, pinning Spencer with a stare that was clearly supposed to be intimidating.
Spencer didn't even flinch. "No one. Just a guy who happens to know a lot about... simple math."
Your loud cough tore Spencer's attention away from the drunk man and towards you, who looked ready to burst from the laughter you were holding underneath. Even under the terrible lighting of the bar, Spencer could still pinpoint the hint of unspoken amusement glimmering inside your eyes.
"Sorry, Bill," you said to the man. "I really do need to be back home by twelve tonight. Maybe some other time?"
Bill didn't need to be told twice. He received the message loud and clear.
Spencer watched the other man scurry away, tail between his legs, before your charming smile enraptured him once more.
"Thank you for that. I was beginning to think he might never leave."
"Happy to help." Spencer smiled thinly, scratching the back of his neck even though the spot wasn't itchy. "What did, uh, why did he want to take you to Red Clover Hill, of all places?"
"Oh. That was... partially my fault." You grinned innocently. "I didn't know he was gonna be an insufferable drunk when he came over, and I was in the middle of watching this."
You pulled out a silver tablet from your lap. Spencer took a peek at the screen, seeing what looked like a live feed of the night sky--over North Carolina, judging by the visible constellations on the vast scene--stamped with the day's date at the bottom of the footage.
"You're watching the Roux-Nell?" Spencer deduced after gathering the facts: the live feed of North Carolina sky, the mention of Red Clover Hill State Park that harbored one of the highest grounds in North Carolina, including a collection of some of the most sophisticated telescopes in the country; you must have been planning to view that night's sighting of the Roux-Nell comet, its first time since the last one in 1927, and only its third one in history.
"Yes! How did you... don't tell me. You're an avid astronomy fan, too?"
Spencer's responding smile only made you beam even brighter.
"Anyway, that guy earlier, Bill, he approached me and asked what I was watching. So, I started talking about the Roux-Nell and about how I wish I was at Red Clover Hill right now since everyone keeps saying it's one of the best spots to view tonight's sighting. I thought he was genuinely interested until he started talking about his Veyron this, his Veyron that. I didn't even realize until a whole five minutes later that he was talking about his car!"
When you finally finished explaining, your eyes locked with Spencer's hazel ones before you seemed to cower shyly.
"Sorry. I can get a little excited when I'm talking sometimes."
"No! Don't be, it was--" Spencer stopped himself before he could complete his sentence.
What was he about to say?
Insightful? Entertaining?
Endearing?
Eventually, Spencer opted to settle for something safe and simple. "I get that way too, sometimes. A lot of the times, actually. So you don't have to apologize."
The fire flickered back inside your gaze following Spencer's admission. It burned brilliantly beneath the kindness you radiated, forged by the sharp intelligence he could see shining out of your eyes.
"So--" Spencer cleared his throat, attempting to shift the conversation in order to distract his racing mind, "--why did you tell him you needed to be back home by twelve?"
"Oh, that? I told him I'm donating blood tomorrow morning, so I need to at least get seven hours of sleep for the night."
"That's a clever lie."
You tilted your head slightly at his statement. "What makes you think it's a lie?"
"Because you're here. Nobody drinks alcohol before they're supposed to donate blood."
Your eyes flashed with surprise. "Not bad, Mister. You're very perceptive."
Spencer shrugged, trying not to appear too flustered by your casual compliment. "It's what I do."
You raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his reply.
"I'm a profiler."
"Profiler?"
"With the FBI."
"FBI, huh?" You hummed, something akin to intrigue swirling in your eyes. "So, you study criminals? Trying to decipher their way of thinking, why they do what they do. Dissect their past history for any related trauma, maybe even pinpoint a psychological stressor that could trigger a criminal behavior, that kind of stuff?"
Upon hearing your response, it was Spencer's turn to be intrigued. "Exactly that kind of stuff. How did you...?"
Grinning sheepishly, you pulled a professional badge out of your pocket, holding it up in front of Spencer so he could see the emblem covering its surface.
"Edgewater Psychology Center," Spencer read the words aloud, understanding dawning on him as he found your eyes once more. "You're a psychologist."
"Guilty as charged."
Spencer couldn't fight off his amused smile. "That explains it, then."
"You know," you began, leaning further against the bar counter to shorten the distance between you and Spencer, "I've never met a profiler in person before. Most of my colleagues, they have consulted on a federal case at least once in the past few years, but the bureau hasn't yet contacted me so far."
"Really?" Spencer took a step forward, closing the distance by a mere inch. "Sounds like a big loss for us. We're idiots."
You bit down on your bottom lip to suppress a smile, your gaze flicking between Spencer's own lips and eyes. For the shortest of minutes, nothing else existed in Spencer's world but you; your smile, your scent, and your kind eyes. You were a magnet carved out of his wildest dreams, and Spencer, well, he might as well have been made out of the purest of irons.
But before Spencer could get lost deeper in your relentless gaze, a shout of his name slashed through the air from across the bar. Back at the booth, Derek was waving his hand frantically in the air, stopping only when Spencer signaled him to sit back down and that he was returning in a minute.
"I have to go." He smiled tentatively, apologetically.
"Oh?"
Spencer tried not to revel too much over the small dip of disappointment at the edge of your voice.
"My friends. They, uh--"
"Oh, no, it's alright. You don't have to explain," you told him gently. "See you around, Mr. Profiler. Hope you have a great night."
With that said, you went back to watching the live feed on your tablet while Spencer, begrudgingly, trudged across the room with two refilled beer glasses in his hands, back to where his friends--minus Rossi and Hotch who were conversing among themselves at one of the standing tables--were waiting.
"Finally," Derek groaned once Spencer slammed the glasses down on the table.
"Who was that?" Emily asked as he slipped into the booth.
"Huh?" Spencer followed Emily's gaze, finding you perched up at the very end of it. "No one."
"No one?" Emily's eyebrows rose. "She didn't seem like no one from where I was sitting."
Spencer took an insanely large sip of his leftover beer.
"Holy shit, you like her, " Derek muttered. "He likes her. Pretty boy's got a crush."
"No, I don't."
"Yeah? Tell that to those red cheeks of yours." JJ chuckled.
Instinctively, Spencer touched his own cheeks as if he could physically feel the change of colors on his skin.
"I'm just tipsy," he tried to reason.
A collective scoff reverberated through the entire booth.
"What's her name, Spence?" JJ asked.
When a full minute ticked by without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment from Spencer, Penelope reached out and slapped the man right across his shoulder.
"Ow!"
"You didn't ask for her name?!" Penelope exclaimed.
"It didn't come up!"
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say, Reid," Emily noted before sipping her margarita.
"Nope. I'm not having this. Not tonight. Look at me, Sunshine." Penelope grabbed Spencer's face in her hands, forcing him to stare directly into her glasses-rimmed eyes. "I'm not letting you spend the rest of the night like this. You will get your cute little tushy out there and talk to that girl. You will get her name and also her number, maybe even ask the nice pretty lady out while you're at it. Now, have I made myself clear?"
Spencer barely managed to swallow his nerves before he offered Penelope two tiny nods.
"Good. I don't wanna see your face back here if you're not at least pocketing her phone number. Now shoo."
Penelope sent Spencer flying across the bar with a dramatic stumble. By the time he reached your side, Spencer was nothing less than a stuttering mess and a thundering heart.
"Hi," Spencer breathed out once he found your welcoming eyes.
"Um, hi?"
"I'm Spencer."
"Okay... Spencer?"
"Reid. Spencer Reid." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, it's just... I realized while I was sitting over there--well, my friends actually made me realize--that I, uh, never got your name. Which, you know, of course I never got it because I didn't ask. So, I was coming here, wondering if maybe you'd like to give it... to me?"
You blinked once. Twice.
By the third blink, Spencer wished the earth would open up and devour him whole.
"You want my name?"
Spencer nodded.
"What are you planning to do with it?"
"Call you?" At your bemused expression, Spencer quickly elaborated, "Not call like call. I meant referring. Yep. That's it. Although, maybe if you want to, I would love to call you as well. Sometime. And perhaps, you know, ask you out... on a date?"
Spencer swallowed the lump of nervousness in his throat. In front of him, you were pretty, even with the conspicuous scrutiny in your eyes as they assessed Spencer as if he was some sort of an enigma. Embarrassment burned hotter through his veins with every second that passed by. He was merely two exhales of breath away from dashing out of the door when you finally spoke up.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
Smiling, you produced an old receipt seemingly out of thin air and asked the bartender to lend you a pen, scribbling something down as soon as you had it between your fingers. When the tiny piece of paper emigrated to Spencer's hand, the Cheshire cat in him jumped out once he noticed the ten digit numbers written neatly underneath a name he could only assume as yours.
"Will that be enough, Spencer Reid?"
"For now," Spencer replied before grabbing his wallet and shoving the paper containing your name inside. "I'll call you."
"You better."
After Spencer's departure, you returned your attention back to the tablet in front of you. Barely five minutes later, though, your serene watching session was once again interrupted. Only this time, it was by the ringing of your phone.
"Hello?"
"Hi, this is Spencer."*
Surprised, you swiveled your head left and right, stopping once you spotted Spencer standing on the other side of the room. His eyes were trained towards you, and behind him, a booth of four people seemed to have directed their attention at you as well.
"Spencer?"
"I know this is very untoward," he began, "but would you like to go out with me?"
"Boy, you certainly don't waste any time at all, do you?"
"I believe it's called being efficient," he countered, making you laugh. "So, what do you say?"
"Sure," you answered, enjoying the way Spencer beam at you from across the room. "I would love to, Spencer."
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A breeze blew gently against Spencer's face, caressing the tendrils of curly hair that had fallen over his forehead. Diana's little fingers started to grip his tighter as the wind strengthened.
"Did you take Mommy on that date, Daddy?"
"Of course," Spencer replied, reminiscing the exact day when he had picked you up in your apartment, sweat glistening on his palm as he clutched the bouquet of flowers in his right hand. "We went to see a Mark Rothko exhibition at the National Gallery of Art, and before I took her home, we stopped by Wakey Bakey to buy some lemon tarts."
Diana gasped. "Wakey Bakey?!"
The little girl's reaction compelled a chuckle from Spencer's chest. "Yes, Pumpkin. Wakey Bakey."
"What happened after that, Daddy?"
"What do you think happened after that, Dee?"
"Um--" Diana pursed her lips, deeply lost in thought, "--did you become girlfriend and boyfriend?"
"Yes, we did."
"And you got married?!"
Spencer laughed at Diana's apparent excitement over the prospect of her parents getting married. "We did, yeah, eventually. After I proposed to her."
"Oh! Oh! The proposal!" Diana exclaimed, jumping up and down in the middle of the sidewalk without a care in the world. Spencer had to tug her back towards him before she could harm herself or the other pedestrians. "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me about the proposal, Daddy!"
"You wanna hear the story about how I proposed to your mother?"
"Yes, please!"
Chuckling to himself, Spencer mumbled a quick fine before his gears had started turning towards a specific memory in his mind. Spencer was sure, even without his eidetic ability, there was no way he could have ever forgotten about the day in question.
The day you agreed to have him as your forever.
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Spencer had fallen in love with you during the first date, right around the time of yet another one of his animated ramblings, where instead of shaming him to shut the hell up, you had simply stared at him in awe and said, "You're pretty when you talk."
The young agent was sure he couldn't get rid of the blush adorning his cheeks for at least an entire week.
By the time the fifth date rolled around, Spencer was absolutely certain that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It wasn't a surprise, then, that a few weeks before your first anniversary came up, Spencer had pocketed a diamond ring with a promise of forever on the tip of his tongue.
Combing the courage to take this historical leap was easy. Difficult was trying to conjure up the perfect proposal plan that he would deem worthy enough for someone like you. There were no rooms for mistakes. Spencer wanted everything to be perfect because he believed you deserved nothing less.
Which was why, in moments of desperation, Spencer ended up turning to his fellow teammates in the FBI for help.
"I don't know if I'm the right person to ask about this, Spence. Will only ever proposed to me after finding out about Henry, and we only got married after I thought he was gonna die on the field," JJ explained. "It was never the most ideal of situations, but I would never change a thing even if I could."
Unsatisfied with JJ's answer, Spencer proceeded to find the BAU's tech genius in her bat cave.
"Go big or go home, my friend," Penelope said following a 10-minute hysteria she erupted into upon learning about Spencer's intent to propose. "Splash out on the bottle. Don't hold back on the grandeur. Spend all of your savings if you have to."
"Garcia--"
"Fine, maybe not all of your savings. You should leave some for the wedding."
Spencer spent weeks mulling over Penelope's advice.
Working as an FBI agent didn't pay as well as most people thought it would, and Spencer's tendency to collect first edition books wasn't exactly an affordable hobby. It meant that as much as Spencer wanted a proposal filled with the greatest grandeur--just as Penelope had suggested--he didn't have a fat enough balance in his bank account to make his ideal proposal concept a reality.
And Spencer probably would have spent the limited fund in his savings down to its very last cent, had it not been for Derek catching him browsing through the internet for the cost of a hot air balloon ride.
"I just want to give her the perfect proposal," Spencer admitted after he finished revealing everything.
"Kid, it doesn't matter," Derek said. "Don't you see? She doesn't care about hot air balloons or any kind of grandeur. She only cares about you. There's no such thing as a perfect proposal. You're just using it as an excuse to put off asking her 'cause you're scared of what she's gonna say. But you don't need to. You two are so devastatingly in love, it's disgusting."
In the end, grandeur wasn't even present in the room when Spencer decided to pop the question.
On that particular night, Spencer arrived in his apartment just a few minutes before midnight. His aching muscles were calling for sleep as he toed his shoes off, but his footsteps soon ceased when he caught sight of his dimly lit living room.
You were fast asleep on the couch, face illuminated by the television light. Spencer's movements were careful as he knelt in front of you, studying the soft and hard edges of your features like historians would an ancient scripture. He couldn't help it when his fingers reached out on their own accord, brushing the softest of touches against the high point of your cheekbone. Inside its cage, Spencer's heart started to stir.
You were so beautiful.
Even after one year of being together, Spencer was often still taken back by how lovely you were. He adored every detail of your being, most fervently the scars that littered your skin in a constellation of stars. All of the places in your body where your scrutiny had wandered in a fleet of insecurity were the same places that Spencer wanted to worship for the rest of his life. In his eyes, you were eternally magnificent, and this thought clouded Spencer's mind as he went to shake your shoulder gently.
"Spencer?" Your groggy voice sounded meek in the comfort of Spencer's apartment, the same one he had been sharing with you since you moved in three months prior. Your lips tilted with the tiniest hint of a smile at the sight of him, and Spencer thought he would melt when your fingers instinctively reached for his face. "You're back."
"I'm back," he confirmed, leaving a trail of kisses on your palm. "Why aren't you in bed, my love?"
"I was waiting for you," you admitted. "I have something to say."
"Really? Me too."
"Hm?" Curiosity flared in the center of your eyes. "You first."
Smiling, Spencer leaned down to steal a quick kiss before saying, "Marry me."
Your breath hitched.
After a few seconds of silence, your nervous laughter filled his ears. "Right. That's a nice one, Spencer. Very funny."
"I'm not joking, sweetheart."
Spencer reached into the inside pocket of his satchel, pulling out the velvet box that had weighed down his bag by several grams for the past few weeks. Any remnant of sleep you still had in your eyes was instantly washed away the moment he opened the box to reveal a pretty ring sitting inside.
"I've had this for a while now," Spencer admitted. "I kept putting off asking you because I believed I wanted everything to be perfect, until Derek knocked some sense into my head and made me realize that I was just afraid of taking the leap. He's right, as always, but don't tell him I said that."
Spencer paused at your teary laugh, relishing in the melodic sound that made his heart nearly burst in two. "My love, I don't need the perfect proposal when you're the promise of a perfect life. Any life with you is the one I want to live for the rest of my time, and I want to start living that life from this point onward. What do you say, sweetheart? Will you marry me?"
Spencer never thought the word yes could sound so incredibly spectacular.
The celebration had started right away, commemorated by the shedding of clothes from each other's bodies, finalized by panting breaths and entangled limbs beneath rumpled sheets. You lay on the bed with your palm on Spencer's chest, his own hand tracing invisible patterns on the vast canvass of your skin.
Spencer watched as you stared at the ring circling your finger. "Do you like it? We can exchange it for a new one if--"
"Spencer Reid, don't you dare."
"Apologies, ma'am." He grinned, continuing the random patterns he was drawing on your skin before he spoke again, "By the way, you said you also have something to tell me."
You looked up at him with a blinding smile before scooting out of Spencer's arm and reaching for the nightstand. When Spencer saw what you had rummaged out of the bedside drawer, Spencer thought his heart had forgotten how to beat.
"Is that--"
"Surprise," you murmured giddily, handing over the object in your hand into Spencer's awaiting palm. "I found out yesterday, but I wanted to tell you in person."
Spencer sat up on the bed, staring with disbelief at the small item in his hand. He only realized he had started to cry when a drop of tears fell down, blurring the two tiny pink lines in his vision.
"This is... you're..."
"I'm pregnant, Spencer," you professed.
Just an hour earlier, Spencer thought the word yes was the best thing he could ever hear falling from your mouth. But as he held you in his arms, his lips catching yours once more in a heated kiss, Spencer realized that you had many more surprising admissions waiting to be said out loud.
And Spencer couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life listening to every single one of them.
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"Daddy, are you saying I was already in Mommy's belly when you proposed to her?"
"Yes, you were, Pumpkin," Spencer said, smiling at the blatant curiosity in Little Dee's eyes. "You were a surprise we didn't see coming."
Diana's responding smile was a picture of satisfaction. The father-daughter pair continued to walk down the street until Dee's voice tore through the silence once again, "Daddy?"
"Hm?"
"I thought you said a man and a woman can only make babies after they're married."
Spencer's footsteps halted on the pavement.
The silence must have stretched for only a partial of a minute, but the expectant stare Dee was nailing against his face, along with the internal panic that had short-circuited Spencer's brain made it seem as if the world had skidded into a standstill. Frantic eyes darted everywhere for a chance at rectification, and Spencer couldn't stop the words from tumbling off his lips when he saw the worn-down sign of a florist up ahead.
"Dee, would you like to buy some flowers for Mommy?"
The little girl squealed an excited yes before skipping the few steps left towards the flower shop. Spencer let out a relieved breath at having narrowly escaped such a harrowing crisis.
Once Spencer stepped into the shop, a multitude of fragrances immediately enveloped his surroundings. Diana was lingering back and forth around the vibrant displays when Spencer approached, her tiny eyebrows frowning in the most adorable way as she assessed the rows of flowers in front of her.
"Have you decided yet, Pumpkin?"
"Can we get some of Mommy's favorites, Dad?" Diana requested, pointing her tiny finger at the display of flowers she knew to be your favorites. "And then we can add some of these daisies, too!"
Spencer couldn't fight the smile blossoming on his face as he asked the florist to assemble a bouquet made out of daisies--Dee's favorite type of flowers, the same one printed all over the dress she was wearing--along with your favorite flowers in the center. Diana stared in awe at the deft work administered by the florist, her mouth forming an "O" once the bouquet was wrapped and ready to go.
"Do you think Mommy will like them, Daddy?"
"I know she will, Pumpkin," Spencer answered earnestly, his memory replaying that first time he had come home bringing the same arrangement of flowers in his hand.
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Spencer came home to the apartment in utter disarray, and yet, it still was the best view that he had ever witnessed in his entire life.
Ever since his office was transformed into a nursery, the books he previously kept in there had to be relocated to the living area. Most of them had gone by now--some donated, and some others sold at second-hand bookstores--but piles of them still littered in various corners of the room.
Apart from his mountainous collection of books, small trinkets also covered every available surface of the place. From the empty nursing bottles in the kitchen sink to the breast pump on the counter, and the tiny socks on the coffee table to the pacifier jammed between the sofa cushions; every single one of them contributed to the mess that his apartment had become. Yet as he paused to inspect every inch of the place, Spencer couldn't find any other emotion besides warmth flooding his chest.
Muffled footsteps padded towards the living room before you appeared from the hallway with a freshly bathed Diana in your arms. As soon as your eyes locked with his, the crease between your eyebrows automatically vanished.
"You're home."
"I'm home." Spencer grinned before welcoming you into his embrace.
He stole a quick kiss from your lips before bending down to smother a 7-month-old Diana who yelped in glee when Spencer began attacking her with kisses all over her face.
"She's been fussy since yesterday," you told him. "I think she missed you."
"Did you, baby? Did you miss Daddy?" Spencer cooed. "I can take her for a few while you rest. You look tired. Are you feeling okay?"
"Gee, Spence. What a way to a girl's heart."
"You know what I meant, sweetheart."
"It's fine, Spencer. I just got a headache, but it's all better now that you're here."
Spencer smiled as he kissed your free knuckles. "If it's any consolation, you're still the most heavenly creature that I've ever laid eyes upon."
A sneaky laughter rumbled past your chest. "Fine. I'll let you go just this once," you said before letting Spencer take a yawning Diana into his arms.
As Spencer carried Dee towards the couch, you noticed a bouquet of flowers lying next to the kitchen sink in the corner of your eye. You glanced at the young genius with a discreet smile before aptly transferring the flowers into a vase.
"These are pretty," you commented, joining your family in the living room. You put the vase in the middle of the coffee table amidst the books and various baby clutters before dropping yourself against Spencer's side.
"They're your favorites."
"I know. As usual." You smiled affectionately. "And daisies. You've never bought me daisies before."
Spencer's eyes gleamed. "I bought the daisies for Dee."
"Oh?"
"I think daisies are gonna be her favorite."
"You do, huh?"
"One hundred percent."
Spencer's eyes looked up from Diana to you then, whose own gaze had been kept intently on your husband and daughter. Darkness embellished the area underneath your eyes, and Spencer couldn't help but count the lines of fatigue that seemed to have multiplied on the contours of your face. Even then, Spencer thought you had never looked more stunning than you did at that moment; as his wife, the mother of his child, and the woman who owned the sole reign of his heart.
Confusion wandered into your eyes when you noticed Spencer's stubborn stare. A surprised squawk escaped your lips as Spencer unexpectedly captured them in a rather long kiss. When he pulled back, Spencer looked the very image of a man who was drunk on love.
"I love you. You know that, right?" Spencer confessed as he squeezed your hand twice in his palm.
"Spencer, what's going on with you?"
"Nothing. I just--" he paused for a chuckle, seemingly trying to find the right words to say before he could continue, "--I owe my life to you, sweetheart. For all of the times you have pulled me out of the darkness, to the light you've brought into my life. You and Dee are the reason I keep on breathing. Without the two of you, I'm nothing."
"Spencer," you breathed out. "Where did all of this come from?"
"I don't know." He shook his head. "I just wanted you to know how grateful I am to have you in my life and that you've brought Dee into ours. Everything worth fighting for about me is because of you."
The telltale signs of tears began to cast a shadow over your eyes. You pressed your hand to Spencer's cheek, feeling the rugged sensation of his newly shaved stubble stroking your skin. Spencer melted into the warmth of your touch.
"You're giving me far too much credit here, Spencer," you whispered. "Everything you are has always been your own doing rather than mine. All I ever did was cheer you on from the sideline. You would still have become the person that you are today even if I weren't in your life."
Spencer physically shuddered at your last statement. "Don't say that. I can't even begin to imagine a life without you in it."
"Well, even if such day does come, when I won't be a part of your life anymore, I know you're gonna be just fine. Because you'll have Dee with you--" you stroked Diana's head lovingly, "--and I know that the two of you will give each other enough love and strength that you won't even notice I'm not around anymore."
The frown on Spencer's face deepened.
"You're not allowed to leave me. Ever," Spencer decided childishly.
"Fine. I won't. But you have to remember--" you brought your palm towards Spencer's chest, feeling each rhythmic thrum of his heart which seemed to flutter ever so slightly underneath your fingers, "--I'll be right here if you need me. Always."
Spencer's own hand landed on top of your hand, entwining your fingers together without ever tearing his fierce gaze away from yours.
"Always."
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The sun was shining down in flimsy rays when Spencer and Dee finally walked past the familiar gate. Glimmers of gold sneaked past the reddish leaves on branches before falling upon the ground.
Next to him, Diana was humming a melody that Spencer recognized from one of your specially curated playlists. Her little hands struggled to carry the gigantic bouquet that she couldn't wait to present to you. It didn't matter that the bouquet itself was nearly as tall as she was, Diana still refused to let Spencer assist her.
"I wanna give Mommy the flowers myself," she had told Spencer in a manner that reminded him too much of your own stubbornness.
After a couple more minutes of walking, Spencer's reverie was soon broken by the excited squeal coming from the little girl beside him.
"Mommy! Mommy!"
Diana dashed into a sprint before words of warning could fall from Spencer's lips. He watched intensely as Diana's little feet moved upon the ocean of fallen leaves on the ground. Her tight grip around the bouquet never wavered even when she ran up the grassed hill, all the way towards the destination in her mind.
All the way towards the headstone with your name written on it.
When Spencer finally got there, Diana was kneeling next to your grave with panting breaths, but the smile stretched on her lips was the biggest one that Spencer had ever seen.
"Hi, Mommy. I'm back with Daddy," Diana announced. "Daddy, go say hi to Mommy."
"Hello, my love." Spencer smiled before taking a seat next to his daughter.
"We brought flowers, Mommy! They're your favorites. I added daisies to make them prettier." Diana beamed before putting the bouquet against your headstone. "You're not gonna believe what happened in class yesterday!"
As Diana animatedly began to recount the funny incident in her classroom--somehow involving a boy named Patrick and a cup of slushie--Spencer watched over her with a permanent smile on his lips. The little girl loved to talk--a trait she obviously acquired from both of her parents--and Spencer knew just how much you used to adore listening to Dee's rambling at any time of day.
It must have been at least ten minutes later when Diana's story eventually whirled to an end. Her attention instantly shifted to the family who was paying their own respect just two headstones over, a small squeak of puppy tumbled from Dee's lips before she dashed towards the boy with a golden retriever pup beside his legs.
Spencer shook his head affectionately at his daughter's antics.
"I know we were just here a couple of weeks ago, but Dee wanted to tell you about the slushie incident herself," he said. "And, well, I can never deny the chance to visit you, love."
A loud laughter boomed a few feet away. Spencer watched as Diana ran around jubilantly with the little boy and his dog. The boy's father waved at Spencer from the distance, which he replied with an acknowledging nod.
"She's getting so big, sweetheart. Sometimes, I just wanna stop time and keep her as my little girl forever. I wish you were around to see how much she's grown." Spencer smiled ruefully. "I can't believe that it's been more than a year since you were gone."
Spencer thought back to the last few moments you spent on this earth. How just a few months prior, the doctor had advised you to stop the treatment and take a rest at home instead.
The chemo isn't working, was what the doctor was really saying. You should be spending as much time as you can with your family.
So, that was exactly what you ended up doing.
Spencer had quit his job at the FBI shortly after you were diagnosed, opting to take a full-time job of teaching where the hours were more humane and reasonable. The day you were discharged from the hospital, Spencer made a vow to himself to make every day as memorable as he could, and he was keeping true to it. Those last few months were filled with countless road trips, an unforgettable weekend at Disneyland, and visits to various museums across the states. Spencer made sure that each day was charged with love and laughter, a perfect day culminated by an equally perfect night, with you falling asleep in the safety of his arms.
Until one morning, when Spencer woke up to your cold and lifeless body lying by his side.
"Do you remember what you told me once? About how Dee and I would never notice you were gone because we would have each other?" Spencer recalled. "You were wrong about that, sweetheart. Your absence is the first thing I notice every time I start my day. The moment I open my eyes, I notice that you aren't lying next to me on the bed like you're supposed to be. I notice the cold imprints on the sheets where your warmth used to linger. I notice you in every corner of our home, but most importantly, I notice you in Dee."
Spencer glanced at his little girl, playing and running around a pile of fallen leaves with her newfound friend and his pet dog. His heart floundered at the scene.
"Everyone keeps saying that she's an exact copy of me, but I see glimpses of you in her more and more every single day," Spencer admitted. "She's the only anchor I have left now, my love. Without her, I'm lost. I try constantly, with whatever strength still resides in me, to give her everything she would ever need. Shower her with every ounce of love I have left in my heart."
A lone tear cascaded down Spencer's cheek. He quickly erased it away with a wry chuckle.
"What I would do to have a minute with you again, my love. I hope you know I'd give my heart and soul to have those extra sixty seconds just to stare at your beautiful face. To hold you in my arms one last time. I try my best to fill the void that you left for Dee's sake. Some days are difficult, and I keep thinking about how much better it would be--how much better off she would be--if it were you here with her instead of me. I'd trade places with you if I could. I fear that all of me would never be enough for her, because she needs you. We both do."
Spencer inhaled a breath, forcing the imminent wave of tears from breaking the dam he had masterfully crafted since the moment you were gone. He promised a long time ago never to allow the grief to consume him.
He still had his daughter to think about.
"I'm beginning to think people are wrong when they say time makes everything better. The pain never lessens. It just becomes bearable with time. Dee makes it bearable," Spencer confessed. "I can only hope I'm doing the same for her."
"Daddy! Daddy!"
Spencer hurriedly wiped away any sign of tears from his face before he caught Diana in his arms. Her innocent laughter was a balm to the gaping wound in his chest, and Spencer allowed himself to bask in the bliss that his little girl brought to his life.
"What is it, Pumpkin?"
"Look what Brian's mom gave me!"
Spencer looked at her tiny hand to see a plastic daisy ring gracing one of her fingers. He looked up towards the family in the distance, mouthing a thank you to the mother who waved him off with a smile.
"It's very pretty, Dee."
"Like me?"
The young dad chuckled. "Yes, very much like you."
"Like Mommy, too?"
Spencer's smile softened. "Very much like Mommy, too. Yes."
The exhilarated smile Diana rewarded him could probably light up the entire state of Virginia at night.
Five minutes later, Spencer found himself bidding you a goodbye, with Diana promising to visit again very soon to give you an update over the slushie incident that supposedly got Patrick in a lot of trouble at school. The air was getting even chillier as the two walked the path they had taken after arriving at the cemetery. Spencer tugged Diana closer to his side once he saw the familiar gate lurking a few feet ahead, keeping her safe while simultaneously seeking her warmth.
"Daddy?" Dee's voice arose shyly once the pair had reached the main street.
"Yes, Pumpkin?"
"I miss Mommy," she admitted quietly.
Spencer's fingers instinctively tightened for a split second around his daughter's hand. "I know you do, Pumpkin. You just need to remember, even if she's not physically with us anymore, that she's always watching over you and keeping you safe."
Diana nodded her head understandingly. "Do you miss her, too, Daddy?"
"Every day, Dee." Spencer smiled, glancing back towards the gate of the cemetery behind him. "Every single day."
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astonmartinii · 3 months
Text
if you need me, let me know, gonna be around [mamma mia part seven] | formula one social media au
drivers: sebastian vettel, fernando alonso & fernando alonso
flo has finally given y/n the experience of motherhood, but she’ll never forget about her overgrown kids
MAMMA MIA MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, sebastianvettel and 1,934,033 others
tagged: jensonbutton
yourusername: venturing out from christmas hibernation and adding to the already overflowing collection of teddies. oh, and getting pics like that of jens while he's out "having a job"
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user1: i am a simple woman, i see dilf jenson, i lose all sense of reality
user2: gnawing at the bars of my enclosure
jensonbutton: oh wow who is that handsome specimen on the last slide?
sebastianvettel: the man who carelessly abandoned his family !!!
fernandoalo_oficial: a man who couldn't handle that i was the best driver in the family
jensonbutton: what ???
sebastianvettel: i'm sorry... is that the ghost of the man we once knew
jensonbutton: i'm not dead
fernandoalo_oficial: to me you are
yourusername: okay guys ... the bit is up !! we do miss you jense but we're happy you're happy :)
sebastianvettel: sure.... well at least you won't try and worm your way into the crochet club
fernandoalo_oficial: as long as you still come to some of my races :)
user3: glad to see parenthood has not changed these fools
charles_leclerc: why do my selfies never make the instagram :(
yourusername: charlie, if i posted every time you sent me a picture of you crying that's all my instagram would be
charles_leclerc: but ........ i thought i was your favourite
yourusername: you know i don't have a favourite
charles_leclerc: sure if that's what you want to tell yourself
maxverstappen1: we all know you say that to not hurt charlie's feelings because i'm your favourite
fernandoalo_oficial: you people are so dramatic
maxverstappen1: says you old man, i can scroll up you know
sebastianvettel: well you're all second to flo
charles_leclerc: she's disqualified from this competition, she's your actual child you have to say she's your favourite
jensonbutton: it's more who annoys us the least
user4: 2024 and nothing has changed here
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sebastianvettel
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liked by yourusername, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,045,388 others
sebastianvettel: love being miles away, missing my baby and getting a running commentary of how my "grid kids" are terrorising y/n
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user7: seb is on a mission to pick up every dad hobby ever. first beekeeping and now sailing
user8: don't forget the gardening and the crochet
user9: he's collecting the infinity stones of dilfism
yourusername: a full eight hours of sleep looks so good on you
sebastianvettel: so i don't look good all the time 🤨
yourusername: of course you do handsome. me and flo miss you :((
sebastianvettel: don't say that i miss you all so much
fernandoalo_oficial: maybe that's your sign to come home?
jensonbutton: yeah i think you should listen to the universe seb, you like all that crystal and salt of the earth stuff
yourusername: sebbbbbbbbb :(((((
sebastianvettel: STOP
user10: they are so precious to me
yourusername: no but seriously if i have to teach another grid kid how to iron i might lose my mind
charles_leclerc: ummmmm stop blasting me on main?
yourusername: learn to iron then
sebastianvettel: you still don't know how to iron? i thought i taught you in 2019?
charles_leclerc: clearly not well enough !! and y/n please name and shame the others so i'm not alone
yourusername: @landonorris @logansargeant sorry
landonorris: WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU Y/N? I CALLED YOU IN CONFIDENCE
logansargeant: i don't have any excuse, thank you for the lesson y/n :)
jensonbutton: at least one of our kids is well mannered
charles_leclerc: i am well mannered, sorry i love my grid mum and her kid. i do semi-know how to iron but needed an excuse to see flo :(
user11: free my girl from these incompetent men
mickschumacher
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liked by sebastianvettel, fernandoao_oficial and 921,743 others
tagged: yourusername
mickschumacher: thanks nurse y/n and nurse flo for helping me - sorry about your mug
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user12: the plaster :((((((((
jensonbutton: IT WAS YOU WHO BROKE MY I <3 NASCAR DILFS MUG
mickschumacher: sorry !
jensonbutton: nuh uh mister @sebastianvettel sort your kid out
sebastianvettel: mick said he was sorry jenson, leave him be
jensonbutton: but when lando put the rubbish in the wrong recycling he had to go litter picking with you I WANT A NEW MUG
yourusername: you guys know they aren't actually your kids, you can't put them in time out
yourusername: you can barely put your own child in time out
fernandoalo_oficial: she's too cute i don't want to make her cry
landonorris: but it's fine to make me cry?
fernandoalo_oficial: yes. in fact, it's quite fun
landonorris: Y/N!!!!
yourusername: okay, babies let's all put the phones down for this evening.
user13: nooooo y/n please i could watch these idiots argue all day
yourusername: the main thing is that your finger is all okay and that you got a cute plaster out of it
mickschumacher: i very much love my lil cat finger
yourusername: so does flo, i think you might be stuck doing puppet shows for the forseeable future
mickschumacher: anything for miss flo
user14: mamma mia family dynamics you are everything to me
fernandoalo_oficial: why did mick get a kitty plaster and i got told to do it myself :(
yourusername: because you're a grown man and you injured yourself by tripping with darts in your hands
fernandoalo_oficial: mick is a grown man - HE CAN VOTE just because he needs seb's help with the paperwork does not change that
mickschumacher: you said yourself they are confusing !!
sebastianvettel: ignore him mick
fernandoalo_oficial: booooooooo
user15: i know these men provide the best entertainment for flo even if she doesn't understand a word they're saying
yourusername: she finds them very entertaining which then starts a competition to who can make her laugh the most
yourusername
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liked by sebastianvettel, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,447,734
tagged: alexalbon, lilymunhe
yourusername: sometimes even my most competent grid kid needs some help, happy anniversary alex and lily x
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user16: UGH this is so cute
alexalbon: grid mum or emotional support retail assistant?
lilymunhe: so how much of the heartfelt gift was really you
alexalbon: 90% !!! i swear
yourusername: it was all alex he just needed the support (idk he said that jewellery shops are stressful)
alexalbon: they are !! i don't know how big fingers are :(
lilymunhe: thank you y/n wouldn't want the 27 year old man to get lost at the mall
yourusername: no worries, i somehow gained at least 15 extra children along with flo, i just go with it. he's less hassle than charles and max
charles_leclerc: rude.
maxverstappen1: gasp!
user17: i love how much y/n has really embraced the grid mum life
user18: i don't think she had much choice 😭
user19: the way she's like "oh i'll help you all with anything you need" and takes flo on all of these side missions and the guys just leave them to die 😭
user20: they're such dad's who don't want the cat but end up attached but don't want to show it
jensonbutton: wait which one of us claim alex? is it me? why was i not invited?
alexalbon: ur my williams dad :) and i think this trip needed a woman's touch (and flo's touch obvs)
jensonbutton: rude i give great gifts
fernandoalo_oficial: considering he's one of the least feral and has lily, i want to claim alex
sebastianvettel: i have too many kids you guys can have alex
alexalbon: sebastian! did our gardening afternoons mean nothing ?
lilymunhe: we'll take it nando
sebastianvettel: did you or did you not just make it a competition with george to see who could plant potatoes the fastest and then make a mess of my vegetable garden
georgerussell63: GUILTY
yourusername: soz but you all have to claim all of them, my rules now
user21: y/n and flo going to rule that house with an iron fist
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fernandoalo_oficial
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liked by yourusername, jensonbutton and 1,309,244 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
fernandoalo_oficial: glad to be back on the podium, but even more proud to call you my grid kid. we all love you, especially flo :)
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user24: THEY HAVE MATCHING MIFFY PLUSHIES
user25: miffy is dutch so that might be why max got them matching ones :)
yourusername: and flo is surgically attached to her miffy (she has named her maxi, even if she can barely say it)
maxverstappen1: you are one of my heroes and it was a pleasure to share the podium with you. there's no one else in the world i'd love to dedicate my podium to than lil mia x
fernandoalo_oficial: you've got me crying again
maxverstappen1: get it all out old man
fernandoalo_oficial: already back to the old man 🤨 i guess i'll take the nice messages while i can
user26: nando getting all mushy is so cute i can't believe this is where we are
charles_leclerc: let it be known that if i had a car fast enough i would also dedicate a win to flo, but for now she'll have to settle for a song
fernandoalo_oficial: is silvia going to kill you? because seb and y/n might kill me if they get your ass over this
charles_leclerc: but it's true, no?
fernandoalo_oficial: you will not trick me into slandering my old team charlie
maxverstappen1: LOL YOU SNOOZE YOU LOSE
charles_leclerc: YOU KNEW THAT WAS MY IDEA THIEF
sebastianvettel: charles why am i getting a call from silvia?
maxverstappen1: LOL
charles_leclerc: brb just going to lourdes
jensonbutton: lol way to get outshined by your kid
fernandoalo_oficial: at least i was in the position to be outshined by my kid
jensonbutton: ERGH you know you can't bring that up
fernandoalo_oficial: you said that you couldn't wait to get away from us
jensonbutton: oop.
yourusername: my wonderful boys!
maxverstappen1: :D
fernandoalo_oficial: i love you both :)
maxverstappen1: awww thanks nando
fernandoalo_oficial: i meant y/n and flo but sure love you too buddy
yourusername
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liked by fernandoalo_oficial, jensonbutton and 1,610,449 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: maxy, this means more than you could know, flo very much enjoyed watching 'blu' go fast :)
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user27: is this family going to make me cry? maybe.
user28: side note, how many animal onesies does flo have they're so cute
user29: she's like a lil teddy bear
maxverstappen1: glad to have officially won the title of flo's favourite brother
charles_leclerc: NOT SO FAST MISTER
maxverstappen1: maybe if you were faster you would've dedicated a win to flo :P
charles_leclerc: LOW BLOW
danielricciardo: don't even get me started on the daniel ricciardo erasure
maxverstappen1: shush daniel let the problem children talk
charles_leclerc: yeah daniel, problem children only
sebastianvettel: should we intervene?
yourusername: no, i'm intrigued as to where this is going to go
jensonbutton: i for one love watching these dummies fight
fernandoalo_oficial: let me get my popcorn
maxverstappen1: are we just entertainment to you?
jensonbutton: yes!
charles_leclerc: the minute flo can talk ASK HER WHO IS HER FAVOURITE
sebastianvettel: sure?
user30: they can never ask that question, one of them might never recover
maxverstappen1: for real though, i love you guys and i love flo. i'll send nando home with the trophy as well :)
yourusername: awwww thank you maxy :) @sebastianvettel @fernandoalo_oficial @jensonbutton new shelf needed please
jensonbutton: i'll leave this one to "the woodwork king"
sebastianvettel: am i the only one who does anything in this house?
fernandoalo_oficial: you can't be called the woodwork king and not do the work
yourusername: you don't even let them help seb
sebastianvettel: UGH.
jensonbutton
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liked by sebastianvettel, fernandoalo_oficial and 912,774 others
tagged: yourusername, danielricciardo
jensonbutton: day 4,000+ of losing our actual girlfriend to our overgrown kids
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user31: PICTURE OF DANNY WITH FLO ALERT ALERT
yourusername: not my fault you guys picked up so many stray cats while in the sport
jensonbutton: i only claim lando and alex, the rest are the others' faults
yourusername: i know you love it really
jensonbutton: not when the little tornadoes hit our house, eat all of our food and steal my baby
danielricciardo: whoops
jensonbutton: and terrorise my pets DANIEL
danielricciardo: they terrorise each other jenson, maybe they aren't as well trained as you thought
yourusername: oh god...
jensonbutton: HOW DARE YOU !!!! BECKETT, SALMON AND CREAM CHEESE ARE VERY WELL TRAINED AND WELL BEHAVED
user32: old men are going crazy we love to see it
sebastianvettel: are we a bed and breakfast?
yourusername: i fear so. you need to run back from whatever ocean you are in we are low on staff now jenson is back racing. flo might be cute but she's a liability in the kitchen
fernandoalo_oficial: maybe we should just kick them out
yourusername: noooo :( not my babies
fernandoalo_oficial: can we at least charge them?
maxverstappen1: you people are the most stingy millionaires i have ever met
charles_leclerc: i pay you in piano sorry
yourusername: don't listen to them boys, flo and i love having you over
user33: so like is there any way we could open the mamma mia bed and breakfast to the public
fernandoalo_oficial: why do the grid kids see our family more than us?
yourusername: come home more often then :(
fernandoalo_oficial: i'm working on it the plane is delayed :(
jensonbutton: personally i would just run home but that's just me
sebastianvettel: i would simply just walk on water
fernandoalo_oficial: shut up. see you later
yourusername: yay !!!!
fin.
note: writer's block has really been beating my ass so there's always mamma mia to get it flowing again. i'm still working on requests, hopefully they'll come along a little faster now! also - i started an instagram for my small business i am opening it's @badlydrawnf1cats, feel free to follow x
edit: mamma mia will return
taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora @faithm120601 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @luv4kani @eugene-emt-roe @magical-spit @ironmaiden1313 @jaydaaasworld @whoreks @rainerax @nonsensical-nonsence @laneyspaulding19 @chelseyyouraverageluigi @lxclerc @gemofthenight @woweewoowa @tagteamedbitch@imagandom@mypage-myfandoms@mehrmonga@asparklysoul @unstableplant @motorsp0rt@multilovebot@lili-flower03 @its-elias-world @jolixtreesunn@nothingfuninthislife@rileynicol3@kodzuvk@mochimommy2002@fluffyspaceprincess@roseseraj@black-swan-blog27@nyrasslut@justdreamersdream@asfaraslifegets@why4anne@ineffableperson@leilanixx@lunyyx @pupbistro @gaypoetsblog@rafaaoli@champomiel@sadsierra2 @rainerax @lokietro @thecubanator2 @nzygftoji @rockyhayzkid @nmw-am @slytherheign @erikasurfer @turn-around-look-at-what-you-see @greigreyhiyyih @duck-duck-goose-18 @dark-night-sky-99 @ironcowboycopnickel @sizzlingghostoperatorbagel @2bormaybenot @42ndbrokencompass @whotfisvale @lichterfee @sticksdoesart @glitterf1 @turn-around-look-at-what-you-see @lighttsoutlewis @tagteamedbitch @glow-ish @sadg3 @kagatinkita @litoriaxu
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rumisgf · 4 months
Text
PASSENGER PRINCESS - connie springer x black!reader
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summary: your... best friend takes you on your weekly late nights drives. but, this night is different: both of you are aware of the tension between y'all even though neither of you address it- until tonight. warnings: marijuana usage, best friends to lovers, eventual smut, yk car sex, french kissing
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you just had got off work, and today really wore you out. it was the usual: your manager was getting on your nerves, there was this lady who tried to argue with you over the counter, and you had to train probably the most incompetent teen who had just got hired. all you knew is you need a blunt and a nap.
as you're laying on your bed ready to kick your clothes off, your phone buzzes. a text from connie, probably the only person you have patience for right now. it reads 'you home?' to which he knows you are, he found out when you get off work (because he listens, of course. totally didn't do his own research before you even told him directly). the minute you text back he's calling your phone, and you roll your eyes a bit 'cause you already know he wants to bother you now.
"hello, sir?" you can hear him smack his lips.
"man, you not even tired! i'm 'bout to head out anyway, just wanted to see what you was doin' right now."
"what, you trynna pick me up?"
"don't ask dumbass questions, you want me to pull up or not?"
you smile to yourself, and get up to change out your work clothes. "mmm... yea. c'mon."
"bet." *click*
soon enough, you see his car pull up from your apartment window and make your way out the door. as you walk down the stairs, you can't help but grin to yourself. no matter how bad of a mood you're in you would never miss an opportunity to chill with his fine as- you mean, the only tolerable dude you know.
you open the car door, the smell of weed hitting your nose. "yooo!" connie greets you with a smile, and a wood in hand. he already had started to roll up before you even made it to the car.
"nigga, what did i tell you 'bout smoking outside here?! if i get in trouble, it is not gonna be my fault!"
"you'on wanna hotbox?" he asks obviously, making you roll your eyes as you buckle in your seatbelt.
he starts the car up and places one hand on the wheel, ready to find an empty parking lot. he notices how you stare outside the window, hand resting on your cheek. "work piss you off?" you simply reply with, "why?" and he says "you not talkin' like usual and actin' all bothered."
he was right, work did piss you off. but for some reason, he was making you especially nervous today. "ion know, just my manager was on dick today. and i had to train this lil' boy he was pissing me off too. i know he a kid but damn, this why i ain't wanna be a trainer in the first place. i already work overtime most of the week i don't be having the energy for that shit, y'know? he keep giving me all these things to do like my schedule not already tight and i'm busting my ass just to still not get promoted yet." it was nice to get stuff of your chest like this because it really calmed you down. better yet, he knew how to calm you down. he knows how to listen while making sure you're still having a good time.
he eventually pulls up to a gas station. "well, don't let that shit bother you. you probably gon get promoted anyway cause you actually do your job. besides, if that don't happen, i been telling you to quit anyway." getting out the car, he pulls his hoodie over his head and comes to open your car door. "now c'mon." "i don't want noth-"
"i said c'mon, mama, i'm getting you snacks! and i want some too i'm not leavin' you in here."
having no argument, you get out and walk with him inside. since it is late, you're the only ones in there and there's only one cashier in sight. the mid aged lady smiles at the two of you as she notices the door bell ring. you both grab a drink of choice from the freezer and make your way to the counter. he sees your eyes dart to a bag of chips, and he picks it up to place it down before you grab his hand. "you don't have to, con." he ignores you, sliding it to the cashier to scan. "oh, stop it, you act like i haven't payed for your hair before."
"your total is $12.59"
he pulls a 20 out his pocket, handing it to her a taking his change. as you both leave, she says "by the way, you two are such an adorable couple!" but, before you can correct her, connie replies
"thank you, ma'am!"
now, you're both sat in the car laughing at the interaction that just happened. "thank you? for real?" you say through giggling. connie simply shrugs, "i ain't wanna make her feel bad!" in your mind, you began to question his response still. why didn't he say no? "i mean shit, you don't look bad so." he stops, furrowing his eyebrows and side eyeing you. "oh, if i was ugly you woulda had a issue?" you look to the side as he pretends to start to be offended. "well, yeah duh." he laughs in response, you following after. "alright, dude."
eventually, he pulls into a random parking lot. you see a bench and a sign, so you assume this is just some park in the area. luckily, no one's here anyway. connie's hand finds the back of your headboard as backs up into a spot. "found this spot like yesterday, nobody really around at night. plus it's chill, i wanna talk to you and ion wanna be bothered seeing other people around."
you can't help but focus on his jawline as he looks back, barely paying attention to the words coming out his mouth. "you even listenin' to me?" he snaps you back into reality. you turn back in your seat as you smack your lips and he chuckles, settling back into his seat. he picks up from where he started, rolling a blunt for the both of you. once he finishes he pulls out a lighter from his glove department, bringing it to his mouth. your eyes pay good attention to his eyes glancing down at the wood, his fingers, his mouth as he inhales, and the way he looks at you after he puffs out smoke.. god he looked fine.
"damn, you gon' take it?" he asks before you even get the chance to zone out completely. you mutter "my fault" before taking it and bringing it to your own mouth. now, its his turn to examine your movements. you don't even notice him eyeing you: the way your acrylics look as you hold it, your makeup still looking nice after a full day of work, your closed lids, the way you're slightly titling your head back... fine as fuck he thinks to himself. he takes off his hoodie as his body warms up. when you look back at him, you see his toned arms in the moonlight and your face begins to heat up. "you feel better, ma?" you nod in response, attempting to contain yourself. however, he can't help but examine you and you begin to notice. "so, what you wanna talk abt?"
he uncharacteristically fiddles with his thumb and looks down. "well shit..." you take another hit, still making eye contact with him. "after that thing just happened it kind of reminded me even more," he takes a pause. he puts his hand out, and you pass the blunt to him before he continues. he brings it to his lips, slowly inhaling. then as he exhales,
"what if we was a couple?"
you take a second, nearly being took out your high that barely started coming over you. "oh.. uhm-"
"not like that, just what if, y'know?" he quickly interjects to save himself from possible rejection. "yeah of course....well, ion know like i said you not ugly." you end up shrugging. sure, you guys are friends, but it would be a complete lie to say you haven't thought about it yourself. you had just never planned on voicing it. "well, what do that mean?"
"i don't know, you not ugly. if we talking hypothetically you my type i guess." you explain, avoiding saying how you actually feel. "i guess is crazyyy." he leans back in his seat, throwing one of arms behind his head as he takes another hit. "so, i'm yo type?"
you feel yourself start to smile. "now what do you mean, sir?" he simply laughs. "i think you pretty too, y/n." his statement catches you offguard, and you find yourself speechless. he only laughs more and looks straight at you, now half-lidded with red hued eyes. "you ain't notice me starin' at you for how many times you been in my car? and you the only girl i really be having in my car, you basically my passenger princess."
the name passenger princess makes you feel warm in a place that you are not willing to acknowledge. "...well, i been starin' at you too. surprised you ain't notice" he's quiet for a second, then looks down at his lap with a smirk. "i did." you smack his arm and he's now in a fit of laughter as he relishes in your embarrassment. after a minute, he smiles at his eyes cant help but focus on your lips. "what?"
he takes a minute to think over the choices he's about to make. and after some thinking, he comes to a conclusion. "...c'mere, mama."
you stare at him for a second, questioning if this is a good idea. but, the way his arms look after removing his hoodie and the way he's manspreading is definitely blinding your judgement. so, you find yourself climbing in his lap just slightly raised up enough so you're not actually sitting on him. but, his hand wraps around your waist and makes you sit down. "aw c'mon, why you bein so shy? it's just me." and he's right. this isn't even the first time you've been this close to him or sat on his lap. your friendship has very little... boundaries. or better yet, you two have a closer platonic relationship than others.
he stares back at you as he raises the blunt in his hand to your lips. you take a hit, blowing smoke directly in his face. you both smile and laugh softly, connie biting his bottom lip. "you so goddamn fine, i swear."
all you respond with a soft giggle as you lean closer into his chest. he wraps an arm around your shoulders and holds eye contact. finally, you both slowly lean in, closing the distance between your faces. his lips instantly catch yours and set a steady pace. he tastes like soda and indica, but right now that is so delicious to you. subconsciously, you slowly move your hips on his laps in rhythm with the movement of your lips on his. he lowly grunts and pulls away. "woah, what you trynna do?" he mumbles, eyeing your body on top of his. "shit, i been holding in a lot, con... i'm on what you on."
his eyes find your thighs, then comes back up to your red, lazy eyes. "you sure, ma?" you bite your lip, "yeah... you want to?" a soft chuckle leaves his lips and he leans back in, centimeters away from your lips. "i been wantin' to do so much to you, y/n, i wanna make you mine.."
his lips crash onto yours and his hands immediately find your ass, massaging the plush skin hidden by your leggings. your tongue finds it way into his mouth and he matches you, tongues dancing with each other. you can feel his boner from under you, and you hope he can't feel you throbbing on top of him. he pulls away again, and tugs at the hem of your leggings.
"can i move these, baby?" he asks. you nod, and he pulls them down to your knees. you shimmy them off knowing you're better off without them restricting your ankles. in return, he scoots you back and he unzips his pants, pulling them down to reveal his stiff hard dick under his boxers. nearly drooling, you eagerly move back up and kiss him again. you grind your hips on his lap once more, moaning into his lips at the feeling. his hand go to guide you and kneed on your ass. he groans into the kiss, you making him harder than he already was.
then, you pull away. he takes a second to look down and notices the wet spot forming on his boxers. he smirks to himself, "damn, baby you that wet?" you look away, still grinding on him. he laughs to himself at your reaction then slides his hand down, pulling your underwear to the side. this thumb finds your clit and you gasp at the sudden contact. he rubs slowly, eyes glued down. he pays attentions to the way your hips begin to buck upward at his touch. then, he slowly slides two fingers into your entrance. "o-oh fuck-!" you moan out. looking back up to you, he licks his lips and focuses on you. "like that, mama?"
you hum in response, eyes closing with pleasure. grinning, he curls his fingers and earns a louder moan sliding out your lips like butter. the sound of you and your wetness as he plays with you is music to his ears. "c-connie..." as you moan out for him, he perks up teasingly. "hm, baby?" you open your mouth to speak, and cut yourself off with another moan. "i- fuck.. i need you"
"need what, babygirl?"
you whine, knowing he's making you say it. "..need you t' fuck me, bae.."
with that, he slips his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth and keeping eye contact as he licks them clean. while he does this he lets you pull him out his boxers, dick springing out. you already had a feeling, but he's big. you stroke him slowly, taking notice of how he squirmed in your touch. "fuck, y/n.." his hips buck upward and his lids close for a second, slightly throwing his head back. you end up throwing off your underwear, leaving you in only your hoodie you left the house in.
"take yo time, okay?" he says softly as you lift up. you nod, and finally begin to sink down onto him. he bites his lips as he feels your slick coating him as you slide his dick into you. your hands grip his shoulders as you sit all the way down, feeling every inch of him. you both moan at the feeling. after a few seconds, you start moving up and down on him. your head falls into the crook of his neck, moaning onto his skin and sending chills down his spine. "f-fuck...baby.."
his hands find your hips, following your movements. "damn baby, just like that.. ride that shit.." you pick up the pace and your grip on him tightens. he now goes to grips your ass, helping move you up and down on all his length. "fuck-! 's so big.." you're whining and moaning into his shoulder, working yourself on him.
connie starts to move his hips in unison with you. "yeah, you like that shit? he starts grinning, looking at your face buried into him. "mhm.. love this dick.." your slick is staining his boxers even more as it drips down while you coat his dick in arousal. "i know, mama, this pussy takin' me so well... you wet f' me." he smacks your ass, earning a small gasp out of you. "look at me, ma."
you lift your head and he smiles at you, admiring your current state. "sexy as fuck.." he moves to massage your hips before pecking your lips. "love you, princess." your heart flutters, as well as your pussy, and your lips form a small smile. "love you, pa" you circle your hips on him and he hums with satisfaction, curses falling out his mouth. "yeah, just like that.. so fuckin' good.."
you ride him with intent, doing it like you had always did in your fantasies. "you feel so good.." you moan, your hole gripping him tighter. "fuck.. i know, ma, i know. takin' this dick so well."
a knot begins to form in your stomach and your eyes squint again as you look back at him. "baby, 'm gonna cum.." you moan, now moving up and down faster. in response, he begins fucking up into you at the same pace.
"mhm c'mon, nut all on this dick." your moans grow in volume and you become putty in his hands. "fuckfuckfuck!" you cry out as your eyes close shut, and you're slamming your ass down on him as you chase your high. he moans as he watches you, holding you tighter. "yeah, there you go mama..." soon, you begin writhing on him as you cream on top of him, painting his dick white. you can feel the strings of your own cum as he continues to thrust into you, reaching his own orgasm. "c-connie! fuck!"
"'m close baby, 'm close, i know." his breathes are frantic and his head is thrown back. "holy fuck, baby.. shit-!" he pulls out as he jerks himself, releasing himself on your ass. you both lay on each other, out of breath as you come down. he looks at you, a smile growing on his face. "don't you go fuckin' somebody else like that, you mine now."
you smile back tiredly, leaning in to kiss him. this kiss is slow, and loving. you pull away, "and you mine."
© rumisgf
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dcxdpdabbles · 2 months
Note
you’ve inspired me so here’s a thing you can do whatever with cause I got a migraine and lost my train of thought
so Danny’s working the bar at the iceberg lounge and notices more people are stress drinking, even the Big Names and asks what’s up only to find it’s ✨Tax Season✨
Danny: oh I always forget about that
someone: (aghast) you don’t pay your taxes
Danny: *shrugs* I’m not allowed to pay taxes
wtf does that mean, is he exempt, someone asks but no Danny explains that the first and only time he tried to pay his taxes he received a full refund and a cease and desist order
word gets around and not even the joker want to mess with Danny because what kind of a monster can scare the irs
(This is actually an inherited problem from his parents)
"What did you just say?" Danny looks up from where he is mixing drinks. Across from him is a purple suit-wearing clown- he hates clowns, so he was attempting not to make eye contact- whose whole white face is twitching slightly.
Danny blinks slowly, using every ounce of self-control to not give in to the urge to reach across the bar and slap him. After a moment, he answered, "I always forget tax season."
"You're crazy enough to take on the IRS?" The clown's jaw drops. "I mean Batman, sure, I understand that, but the IRS?"
Danny frowns. "I don't take them on. I don't have to do my taxes."
"How?" A man in a suit covered in question marks demands from further down the bar.
He shrugs his shoulders a little. "I tried it once, but they sent me a full refund and a cease and desist order. They only remind me that I cannot file taxes now."
"Prove it," A man covered in scales hisses.
Danny grabs a rag, using it to clean off the lemon juice. He reaches into his apron pocket, pulling out a folded-up letter. He could have left it in his locker, but stuff always went missing there. Best to keep his stuff on his person while working. "Sure. Here I have it now. I went to the post office before my shift-hey!"
The lade covered in leaves yanks the letter out of his hand, unfolding it and reading the words as though it wasn't a federal crime. Her voice wavers when she gets to the reminder that the United States of America Internal Revenue Service would not stand another attempt at Daniel Fenton's taxes.
"This can't be real," She scoffs, but there is an underline of worry in her voice that she can't entirely hide.
She turns to a man in a strange white and black suit- like it's evenly split down the middle strange. It matches his face, though; one side is gorgeous, and the other is deformed. "This isn't real, is it Two-Face?"
Two-face takes the paper from her hand, carefully reading the words before pulling out his phone and typing away. After a few seconds, he pauses, then gasps. "It's real. My boys just confirmed the Tax ID number. He is not legally allowed to do taxes."
"Holly Molly, you're insane," the clown gasped, backing out of the seat while pointing at Danny as though he was the devil. "Stay away from me you lunitic! I'm not messing with the IRS's boogie man!"
He turned tail and ran, leaving behind a stunned Danny, wondering what he could have said to earn that reaction. His parents back home were also ordered to not do their taxes. It's common.
He turns to his other customers, ready to take their order, but they all pale and quickly duck away from him as well.
Strange.
Then, Danny notices the silence that has fallen upon the Iceberg Lounge. Even the music has been cut off as everyone stares at him in disbelief.
He shifts, a little uncomfortable with the stares. Danny has never grown used to attention, no matter how much he craved it as a teenager. He always wanted to be in the It Crowd and be given an official membership to the A-listers, but he grew to understand that the only way they liked seeing him was in pain.
So Danny learned to avoid attention as he could, which wasn't complex as the part of the town's freaks, but the very few mintues someone did pay attention to him something terrible ended up happening.
Dash stuffed him into a locker while classmates laughed and cheered the bully on.
A teacher calling on him just to make him feel stupid.
His parents realized he was slipping in his grades and reminded him that he was a failure to the family's intelligence.
Or some random GIW agent that "banished" him from his Earth, flinging Danny straight across the universe to whatever hellhole Gotham crawled out of.
He barely got this bartending job only a few weeks ago- lying about his age which he thinks his boss doesn't care about- and using a shade of an old bartender to coach him in mixology.
Shades were different from ghosts. For one thing, they were weaker and unable to be seen by regular people. They could not interact with the world and often didn't even know they were dead. If Danny had been able to see them before the portal, he would have known they were the cause of what is commonly known as a "ghost."
They were the myths.
Jeff Ricci is Shade, one who is aware he died. He was killed in a gang shoot-out a few years after he and his sister ran away from an abusive home. They traveled through three states, dodging police and CPS, before they disappeared among Gotham's homeless population.
The pair of siblings survived for a while doing odd jobs for local gangs- things like drug runs or helping them move guns- which is why Jeff was out there the night the fight broke out.
It was an imperfect stroke of luck, the wrong place and time. The two had been doing so well, too. They had both gotten jobs at the Iceberg Lounge, lying about their ages, where Jeff was a dishwasher, and Lucia was a housekeeper.
After hours, Jeff was taught by his coworkers how to properly mix drinks, waiting for Lucia to finish her job. When the two turned eighteen, Lucia became a waitress, and Jeff joined the bar- though if anyone asked or checked their employee records, both were twenty-one.
With better pay and hours, they could rent an apartment, finally gaining a home after three years of homelessness. Jeff had lived in that home for only a month when he accepted a job to buy Lucia some migraine medication and had perished.
Lucia lived on without her twin, broken far more than before, but she still had the apartment and job at the Iceberg Lounge. She was unaware her brother still followed her around, watching her actaully turn twenty-one while he remained eighteen.
That's how Danny met him, a somewhat see-through man casually following one of the prettiest waitresses. He had assumed he was being a creep, but Jeff had been delighted that someone could not only see him but was willing to protect his sister by threatening him away from her.
In exchange for lessons on proper mixing, Jeff asked Danny to keep an eye on his sister. Help her when he could not. It was a fair trade from one younger brother to another.
The shade is currently leaning against the counter beside Danny, staring at him as though Danny was a god. "You scare the Joker. Shit, Danny, I knew you were some kind of Rouge in the making, but to take out heavy hitters like this before your debut!? That's just terrifying! Would you be willing to pay my sister to be your secretary or something? She's a great typer!"
What a strange place Gotham is.
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wake me from this eternal slumber, rumor has it, a kiss is all it takes; i'm no fairytale but your lips might make me one.
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jh86 x reader: you've sworn off frat boys, but maybe just one more?
(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), oral sex (m on f) yay! we love exceptions, fingering, hair pulling and lips and limbs and all my usual stuff (you guys know what i'm about). idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)
(a/n: well, favorites, my ex was in pike in undergrad, so you can thank him for 18k worth of a fantasy-level frat romance (i know, it's too much, i need to cut it down, but i can't. this is how i'm dealing with my breakup. leave me be). and, actually, don't thank him. thank me, because i worked really, really hard on this <3. there are a billion things that i ask you to take for granted, like how i included too many side characters, so i know it will be confusing, but i needed sleazy nh13 in there, okay? and i needed starboy pitcher lh43, and cc22 falling for his postgame reporter, and tz11 not being able to catch, and qh43 being a pawn in a president x president love story featuring alex turcotte. all of it was necessary for my healing process. i wanted to write something in which someone can drop into your life and rewrite all of the things you believe to be true. some star-crossed shit. so, this is my best shot. what is love, after all, but leaving your window open for fratboy jh86 to climb into? i was never actually in greek life, so all of this is based on what my friends have told me (sam is based on my irl best friend, fun fact). forgive me for any plot holes and inconsistencies. please, please, tell me what you think, because i love when you do, and tell me what you want next. thank you for your support. thank you for indulging my silly whims and most delusional daydreams. tell your snakes i love them. getting pretty busy up here in the real world, but until next time. go canucks. all my love).
this day, the first day of classes, had been a real disaster, honestly. what had been the worse part, even? it was hard to decide, with so many natural contenders.
would it be the alarm clock of your roommate, which had gone off for twenty minutes, until you had to get up yourself and shake her awake? or maybe the pop quiz in your lecture, on the very first day, when you forgot to do the reading? but, no, we can't forget the back to back to back texts from that guy, the one who mistook your general friendliness as romantic interest.
it had been a terrible day, genuinely, but this might be the worst of it, you thought, as you stood outside the tke house, on the sidewalk, waiting for your friends. your friends, who said they would be out ten minutes ago.
it was getting kind of brisk outside, and your outfit, compliant with the finance bros and business hoes theme, wasn't keeping you very warm. you looked down at your phone, tried to will a text from one of them into existence. you just wanted to go home, which, honestly, you probably should have already done by now. your sorority house was maybe a five minute walk down the row, but you didn't want to abandon your friends, and you didn't really want to make the walk alone, in the dark.
you could go back inside, you knew. but, this day had sucked, and you weren't in the mood to dance on an elevated surface tonight.
you opened the text conversation with your roommate, typed almost out? and hit send, before a deep voice pulled your head up.
"miss, is that an open container?" you looked up to find a stout officer of campus security shining his flashlight on you and your red plastic cup.
of course, because today was terrible, today would be the day that security cracks down on their no-open-containers-on-the-row rule. of course.
you looked into your solo cup, swirled around the pink liquid. what could you even say this was? the officer could probably smell the vodka in it from where he stood, a few feet away. honestly, it was probably better to just come clean. you'd get, what, a citation? hopefully a warning, if you could conjure up some tears?
you sighed, opened your mouth to spew some sob story, but you were cut off by some goofy voice coming from the door.
"there you are, baby!"
both you and the officer turned to face the voice, now an approaching figure.
your eyes narrowed as you tried to make out a face from the dim street light. you certainly were not anyone's baby. and you were fairly certain the only people who could have been wondering where you were would be the friends you came with, who had much more feminine voices.
before you could tell this guy he had the wrong idea, though, he slung a heavy arm around your shoulders, used it to pull you close to him before pressing a kiss to the side of your head, gentle, doting, fleeting.
you were about to shove this guy off of you, as he had obviously mistaken you for someone else.
"thanks for holding my drink for me," he said, then, taking your cup from your hand and downing it in one go.
you swallowed, your mind buzzing, not just with confusion but with the weight of his body against yours, the ghost of heat from his lips on your temple, the slightly muddled sandalwood scent of him so close. was he covering for you, this stranger? this stranger, who definitely could see your face, now, so there was no one he could be mistaking you for.
was he just being nice?
"'course, baby," you mustered, letting yourself lean into his embrace, hooking an arm around his waist. if he was going to get this officer off of your back, you'd let him.
your savior turned to face the shorter man in front of you both, as if noticing him for the first time. "oh, good evening, officer," he said, ever the gentleman. "can i help you?"
as the officer explained his presence with a gruff tone, you turned your neck to look at the face of the man who currently had his arm around you, whose lips on your forehead you could still feel like a purpling bruise.
you looked up at him, and your stomach flipped, because he was just so pretty. so much so that it flooded your gaze, made him hard to take in all at once. that fairytale profile, cut jaw, sharp cheekbones, soft slope of a nose. long, dark lashes that framed light blue eyes. grown out hair that curled around the brim of his backwards baseball cap, which read the letters tke in bold font. full, pink lips you had the sudden urge to tug on with your teeth.
uh oh, the gossip in your head whispered to her friends. we've seen this before. we know how this ends.
you could have shushed her.
"as you can see, officer, there's no liquid here, at least not anymore," the tke boy above you said with the voice of an experienced sweet-talker, smooth and sugary. "we wish we could be of more help, don't we, baby?"
he turned his gaze down to you, meeting your eyes directly for the first time. oceanic amusement met your careful skepticism, so electric and charged you swore the streetlight above you began to flicker.
"sure do," you said, reluctantly fixing your gaze on the officer and away from the mesmerizing face next to you.
the short man looked unconvinced, but switched his flashlight off anyways.
"have a good night, sir," you added, to which he muttered something and walked in the other direction.
you waited until he was out of earshot before lifting that warm arm from around your shoulders, crossing your own arms over your chest. "right," you began, "so, do i know you, or something?"
he tilted his head, let a bemused smile slant across his face, completely lopsided, completely endearing. "or something," he said, his eyes glinting, brimming over with mirth.
you furrowed your brow, shifted on your feet. "why did you come out here, then?" you asked. "and what was that whole act for?"
he sucked on his teeth for a moment, during which you took in his whole frame, his wide shoulders, tall build, strong stance.
uh oh is right, you thought to yourself, clasping your hands behind your back.
he shrugged, the movement making the muscles in his shoulders tense. you looked at your feet. "saw you come out here by yourself," he said, simply. "just wanted to make sure nothing was wrong."
you narrowed your eyes, which made his gaze shimmer again.
"then i saw you with the security guy, and he's been camping out recently for their open container policy, so i figured i'd-"
"you figured you'd pretend that we're together?" you raised a brow. "awful dramatic, don't you think? could have just smacked the cup from my hand." you cringed internally as soon as you said this. you'd felt his hand on your side, and there was no chance that soft touch was capable of anything so harsh.
he just took a step closer to you, though, and part of you wanted to back away, but you didn't. you couldn't. "maybe i had selfish motives," he added, "maybe i wanted him to think i could pull a pretty girl like you, hm?"
you gave a slight scoff, the smallest shake of your head, before looking up at him again, finding him closer, looking at you like you were something special. something he wouldn't find again.
"okay, you can turn off the charm, now," you warned, more for your own sake than his. "what's your name?"
he stuck out his hand to shake yours, which felt wholly odd, given you could still feel his lips on your skin, like a brand, a scar. "i'm jack," he said, and you took his hand, gave it a shake as you offered him your own name in return.
"and you're in tke?" you asked, half-hoping he would laugh, nod you off, say that fraternities were stupid. hoping he wouldn't be a frat brother, so that he might still be on the table. so that you wouldn't have to walk away from him knowing exactly how he would hurt you if you gave him too much of a chance, too much of yourself.
he nodded though, and you could have sighed in disappointment. he was so, so pretty, but pretty wasn't good enough for your no frat boys rule. not after last time. "are you in a sorority?"
"no," you said immediately, shaking your head. this was a lie, you were in alpha phi, but you were hoping he'd lose interest as soon as you denied it, as so many greek-life boys did.
the light didn't blink out from jack's eyes though. "you must have a walk ahead of you then, if you're not on the row," he said. "i'll walk with you, it's dark."
you peered up at him, dubious. what was his angle, here? what would he have over you if you said yes?
luckily, you didn't have to answer, because you heard your roommate's voice from the door, now walking towards you. "'m so sorry, didn't see your text," she said, walking right past jack and pulling you in for a hug. "of course we can go. let's go back to the house, yeah?"
you nodded, returned her hug.
"the house?" jack's voice asked, to which your roommate pulled away from you, looked at him.
"yeah, a-phi," she said, skeptical. "um, who is this?" she elbowed you.
"this is jack," you explained, "he saved me from a safety citation. jack, this is my roommate, sam."
he nodded to her, which she returned. if jack had put together that you had just lied to his face about being in greek life, he didn't call you out on it, only smiling that goofy grin at you again, the one that awoke butterflies in your stomach, the one that had the street light rolling its eyes at you.
"well, jack, we're off," sam said, linking her arm in yours.
"goodnight, ladies," he said as the two of you set off down the sidewalk. "until you next need saving, baby."
you shook in a disbelieving laugh.
"baby?" sam whisper-screamed at you.
"i'll explain later," you told her.
you did explain later, that night, when the two of you were taking off your makeup in your mirroring vanities.
"i'm sorry, what?" sam said when you had finished recalling the night. "he quite literally kissed you?"
you flushed, waved her off. "barely," you said, "on the head."
"okay, sure," she mused, patting toner into her face. "sure, as if this isn't the longest you've talked about a guy since last year!"
you sighed. "it doesn't matter," you said, trying to make yourself believe it. "he's in tke. and i've sworn off frat guys, you know this."
"oh, i know this," she replied, "but rules are made to be broken."
"that's not right," you sing-songed.
"don't talk back to your president," she sung right back at you, using her position in the sorority as a trump-card, as she was so prone to doing.
"he's probably just like the rest of them," you reminded her, and yourself, "he's charming and sweet and lovely until he gets what he wants, and then he's gone."
the words hurt as you spoke them, jagged and sharp in your throat, like shards of glass. it hurt to think about your history with frat guys, the ones you'd let get close to you.
the guy from pike whom you had been seeing, sort of, for half a year, who had relished in the chase of it all, been so caring until you finally slept with him. and then he acted like you were nothing, not even worth a text. he had acted like you were crazy, delusional, for thinking your relationship went any deeper than sex.
he had all but laughed at you when you had suggested anything different. "i don't, like, do labels," he had told you. "you know that, right?"
you shuddered, now, thinking about how stupid, how utterly childish he had made you feel. thinking about how you had given the next guy, the one from lambda, a chance, about how he had done the same thing, with slightly different words, on a slightly different timeline.
you refused to feel that way again.
sam just shrugged. "i don't know, love," she said, "the way he was looking at you, back there, i swear, it was special."
you scrunched up your nose. "i'm not changing my mind. it's not worth it. he's not worth it."
something in the back of your mind twisted, though, because there was a trace of disbelief in your tone.
"whatever you say," sam said.
"now, tell me about your progress on project peace treaty," you said, hoping to change the subject, referring to sam's crush on the tke president.
one of your other friends had come up with the moniker after sam had been voted president herself, like a relationship between the two leaders would be some kind of deal between nations.
sam pretended to faint in her chair. "i don't know how much more obvious i can be," she whined. "i swear, i can't tell if he's just quiet or if he wants me to get the fuck away from him."
you rolled your eyes. "there's no way he's not into you," you said, and you meant it - sam was your best friend, and the best person you knew. if there was a way not to like her, you were unfamiliar with it.
she just shook her head. "you haven't talked to alex," she said, solemn. "he's, like, impossible to read." she shot you a look. "not all of us can have a tke brother wrapped around our finger after meeting once."
you threw a pillow at her, laughed her off, tried not to dream that night about starry blue eyes and soft lips on your temple.
the week passed, slowly, defined by welcome back mixers and new classes, new faces.
before you knew it, it was friday. you were exhausted, but you only had two classes today, the first of which passed quickly, the second of which was ballroom dance 101.
you had already had your first ballroom class on wednesday, so you knew it was fairly laid back, a good way to get some unit credits, a place to move around a bit before the weekend. you were, however, taking it alone. sam had been planning on taking it with you, but then an opening for a class she really needed had come up, and you had insisted you'd be fine on your own, that obviously her major credits were more important than this random elective dance class.
and it was fine, truly, if not a little less fun without her there. you waited patiently for the instructor to arrive, watching the little circles of friends stretch and chat. you leaned your back against the wall, crossed your arms over your chest, let your mind slow until you felt a presence next to you.
you glanced to your left, felt your heart stutter as you did a double take. "jack?" you asked, almost incredulous. if he looked pretty in the night, he looked downright distracting in the daylight, today in khakis and a polo shirt.
"hey, baby," he said, maybe a trace of smugness in his voice as he mirrored your lean, your posture. "how're you?"
this felt like a trap. he felt like a trap. your eyes narrowed. "you're in ballroom? since when?"
"since i switched into it, yesterday," he answered, simply and plainly, before his mouth quirked up. "is that what the experts are callin' it? just 'ballroom?'" he gave a facetious nod. "i like it. drop the 'dance,' 's too bulky."
you rolled your eyes, but laughed nonetheless. "we went over this kind of expert vocabulary on day one," you said with a shrug, "sorry you missed it."
the instructor clapped her hands, signaling her arrival, before beginning a stretching sequence on the floor.
"you're gonna dance in khakis?" you whispered to jack, who had taken the spot next to you as you both leaned forward to touch your toes.
"was i supposed to bring my tux?" he asked, which made you choke down a laugh. "or are we doing some kind of breakdancing i'm unaware of?"
"what, you don't have your handstand mastered?" you teased, "if you insist, but that's the foundation we're building from, just warning you."
"students, focus!" the instructor demanded, shooting you a glare, which you acknowledged with a nod before sharing a guilty smile with jack, like kids caught laughing too hard on the field trip bus.
after class, the both of you were planning on walking back to the row, so you just walked together, chatted pleasantly. the street was pretty in the daylight in a way it wasn't at night. there was something to be said, you thought, about being able to see everything clearly, about knowing exactly what you were looking at. and sure, there was beauty in mystery, and there was beauty in danger, but there was beauty in comfort, too.
"so, do you think i could get your number?" jack said, as you both turned the corner, the tke house now in clear view. his smile was easy. "for all the questions 'm gonna have about the tango?"
you let out a little laugh, thought for a moment. it was just your number, after all, and he said it was for class. it probably didn't mean anything. it was probably safe. "okay," you said, taking out your phone, handing it to him, "sure." your mouth quirked up as he put in his information, sent himself a text. "don't know how much help 'm gonna be, though."
he handed your phone back to you, that halfway grin on his pretty face. "you're right," he said, making his way towards his front door. "if anything, you'll just distract me from the steps, lookin' like that and all."
you looked down, shook your head, felt the gentle heat of a blush on your face. "focus up, then," you chided, gripping the straps of your backpack.
"oh, i'm focused, baby," he called out, "just not on dance."
you rolled your eyes at him as he smiled at your reaction, both of you saying your goodbyes. you heard his front door shut only when you had completely turned away, began to walk the few houses down the street.
when you got back to your room, you flopped down on your bed, breathing into your soft comforter, until you heard the door swing open again. you looked up.
"all good?" sam asked, raising a brow. she threw her bag and keys on the floor by her desk, slipped off her shoes, hopped up onto her bed, opposite yours.
"yeah," you said, sighed, then laughed, short and breathy. "remember that guy from last weekend?"
her eyes went wide, now alert. her posture straightened. "uh, your valiant hero in the face of danger? of course."
you laughed, then, more naturally this time, hugged a pillow to your chest. "he's in my dance class." you looked down at your hand, examined your fingernails. "and i gave him my number."
sam squinted at you. "okay," she said, slowly. "i know what i think about this, i think you know what i think about this." she tugged her hair elastic down, freeing her hair from the ponytail it had been in. "what do you think about this?"
you sucked on your teeth, thought for a moment. "i don't know," you said. "i guess i'm just confused. and worried. and i don't think i want him to text me first, but i also kind of want-"
a buzz from your phone interrupted you, and sam tilted her head back and groaned. "that's him, isn't it?" she asked. "that's definitely him."
and it shouldn't have been, you thought, there was no way it was him, because it had been what, ten minutes? you knew frat guys, and you knew it couldn't be him.
it was.
forgot to ask if you were coming tonight, he had texted, followed by told you you're distracting lol.
"i knew it," sam said, shaking her head, "i'm like an oracle. it's a gift, i know, but it's also a burden." she gestured for you to speak. "what's he say?"
"asked if i'm coming tonight," you said, looking up at her, "in all lowercase. and he said lol."
she waved you off. "non-issue," she declared.
"but, like," you pushed, giving her a look, "who taught him to use all lowercase?"
"doesn't matter," sam continued, "he called you baby and kissed you on the forehead. he gets a lowercase pass."
"so you're the oracle and the lawmaker?" you asked, teasing.
sam nodded seriously. "and the president," she finished.
you laughed, then sighed, began typing.
"what're you saying?" sam asked, leaning forward on her bed, as if she would be able to read your screen.
"just that 'm not going," you said. not tonight sry, you sent, followed by you might want to get that distraction thing checked out.
sam nodded. "what was their theme tonight? something bad, right?"
"country bros and rodeo hoes," you answered with a grimace.
"who the hell is in their little think tank?" sam asked, shaking her head, "'m gonna tell alex if they do the bros/hoes thing again a phi isn't coming."
you were nodding in agreement when your phone buzzed again. then you'll be up at a reasonable time tomorrow? he had asked, followed by any chance you wanna come watch my friends' baseball fall game?, followed by maybe more exposure will help w my distraction problem :).
you bit your lip, looked up at sam. "what?" she asked.
"have plans tomorrow morning?" you said as you typed. thanks for the invite, you sent, followed by can i bring sam? and can you bring alex?
"of course not," sam said, "it's saturday morning."
as long as you'll be there, you can bring anyone you want, he texted back, followed by alex is in!
see you there :) you said in a final response.
the field @ 9, he sent, followed by thank you!
your brow furrowed at this, because what was he thanking you for? what had you promised him, in this interaction, besides just seeing him? surely that wasn't enough to warrant a thank you?
you cleared your throat, tossed your phone aside. "well, you do now," you said to sam. "we're going to baseball tomorrow morning."
sam groaned. "those guys suck."
"alex is coming," you tried.
"i love baseball!" sam said, straightening again. "and soph is covering it for the paper, so we can support her, too."
you laughed. "so easily convinced, eh?"
"you don't wanna talk to me about being easily persuaded," she sing-songed. visions of easy grins and high cheekbones flashed across your mind, and you knew she was right, so you let it rest.
the next morning, as the two of you walked to the baseball field, sam was reminding you about the plight of being the president.
"we've warned her a million times about what she's posting," she told you, out of breath, referring to one of the freshman who didn't seem to understand your house's social media rules. "i don't know how many times i can remind her politely before i just start smacking cans out of her hand when someone takes their phone out."
you laughed as you rounded the corner by the field entrance. "i say resort to violence," you said, "i hear it's always the answer."
sam groaned while you smiled. "look, there they are," you whispered, spotting him and jack over by the stands. suddenly all evidence of sam's unhappiness was mysteriously gone. her face was the image of alert interest. you imagined you probably looked a little more nervous as you approached where they were standing.
"gentlemen," sam greeted the pair of them as you approached. "good to see you." she shot a wink alex's way. he appeared completely unaffected. "'specially you, handsome."
you and jack shared a gentle smile at sam's boldness, and it felt like a secret language, the kind you make up with your friend during a playdate, the kind everyone understands but that feels extra special, anyways.
"hi, sam," alex said, plainly, but you caught the faintest of a pleased look in his eyes before he nodded to you in greeting.
"thanks for coming," jack said, although when he said it he was speaking directly to you. there was a fluttery feeling in your stomach that you scolded into submission. then he offered you his arm, and you decided that the butterflies were probably here to stay, at least for now. "shall we?"
you exhaled, had the feeling that touching his extended arm would be like touching a loaded gun, dangerous and daunting, but you took it anyways, found him warm and comfortable against your side as you fell into step together. "i'm, uh," you started, testing your limits, "i'm happy you texted."
jack shook his hair from his face. his returning smile was nothing short of stunning. "yeah?" he asked, which had your mouth feeling a bit dry. "made you happy?" this fact seemed to make him especially pleased, proud.
"what, no arm for me, al?" came sam's abrupt voice from behind you. alex appeared horrified by this nickname. "that's fine, i have enough arms, anyways. three would be overdoing it, i think."
you coughed, turned your gaze back to jack. you felt the force of his attention like a suckerpunch to the stomach. "yeah, i, um," you tried, "thanks, i guess. for inviting us."
his soft features lit up with amusement at your uncertainty, obvious discomfort. he appeared just on the verge of laughter, but it didn't really feel like he was laughing at you, somehow. you knew what being on the bad end of joke was like, and this didn't feel like that. maybe you were just distracted by how his mouth curved around his almost-laugh, slow and delighted. "of course, baby," he said, and you sort of wished he would stop calling you that. for your mental well-being, he really needed to stop calling you that. he tugged you slightly closer to him as you made your way towards some empty seats in the stands. "can i have the seat next to you?"
and you let out a little laugh, then, as you sat down, made a motion as if to wipe off the seat to your left. "all yours," you said.
he hummed, something sparking in his eyes as he sat down, which had you rethinking your words, the gravity of them. you couldn't bring yourself to regret them, though, if you were honest. how could you regret them, when they made him look at you like this? like there was some worldly truth in the blush on your cheeks?
the cracking sound of a bat pulled you from your daze. "so, who do you know on the team?" you asked, eager to push the conversation towards something safer, something that didn't have your neck feeling hot, didn't make the arm rest between the two of you feel like something cruel.
he turned his head towards the field slowly, reluctantly. "11, 22," he said, pointing to where they stood, one tall, the other shorter, broader. "trevor and cole." he smiled. "they aren't very good."
you huffed a laugh. "they're on a d1 team," you chided, "so they must not be terrible."
"we still have no idea how they made the team," jack replied, shaking his head. "you'll see, swear trev can't catch a ball."
"and they only took on cole 'cause he's good with media," alex added from the seat on the other side of jack. "he's their backup backup catcher."
sam snapped her fingers. "cole, like cole caufield?" she asked, her eyes widening when alex nodded. sam looked at you. "he's the one soph's been talkin' about. the one she interviews all the time for the paper."
you laughed in recognition. your friend sophie covered almost every baseball game, and apparently a certain backup backup catcher had been giving her a lot of grief whenever she tried to get a useable quote.
"oh, and 43," jack said, pointing to the lanky kid on the pitcher's mound. his smile turned bashful. "'s luke, my younger brother."
your stomach flipped at how his gaze had softened. "didn't know you had siblings," you said, although you didn't know much about him, so you guessed that made sense.
he just nodded. "older brother, too, you might know him, actually."
"'s in tke with you?" you asked, to which jack made some affirmative sound.
"yeah," he said, "quinn, 's close with nico."
you hummed in recognition, picturing their faces, noticing the similarities. "right," you said, "you guys do look similar."
his smile turned indulgent as he tilted his head. "'m better looking though, right, baby?" he asked, and his voice dripped with confidence, but you felt a strange compulsion to reassure him, anyways, could somehow sense that this was important.
so you just ran your tongue along the inside of your cheek, gauging what to say, here, how much you could reveal. "i think you're pretty, jack," you said, and it was soft, low, for him. your eyes caught on his for a blazing second. "you know i do." and it was true, you knew he was aware of the way he affected you.
his gaze grew hooded for a moment, which terrified you, a horror-movie jump scare, a reminder of the reason you made your no-frat-boy rule in the first place.
luckily, as always, sam had something to say. she scoffed. "don't know about that," she said, leaning back in her chair, crossing her legs over the seat in front of her. "quinn's a straight ten." she gave a satisfied smile, looked to her right. "say, al, d'you think you could set me up with him? you guys are close, right?"
alex didn't answer right away. he shifted slightly in his seat.
"c'mon, from one president to another, think you could help me out?" sam gave a dreamy sort of sigh. "he's got a real face on him, and ever since he's grown out his hair-"
"'m not setting you up with him," was alex's short reply, cutting sam off, not quite looking at her.
you knocked jack's knee with your own, mirroring smiles on your faces.
sam just pouted as the game started. "don't have to be such an ass about it," she said, but you could tell by her face that she had accomplished exactly what she had set out to.
you weren't really a baseball fan, but this particular game flew by, probably because of the shaggy-haired, full-lipped person sitting to your left.
the slow pace of the game was cut with conversations about the party tke threw last night (it was lame, jack insisted, and his knowing, shy grin gave you a hint as to the reason why), which led to a conversation about who picks the themes (a board of esteemed individuals, apparently).
"i know it's just nico," sam said, rolling her eyes. "tell him that if he keeps up with the bros and hoes thing a phi isn't coming."
this actually appeared to alarm alex. "you're not serious," he said.
"as death," sam said, nodding.
alex promptly took out his phone and started to text someone. you had the sneaking suspicion it was nico.
jack asked about what you did last night, which led you to talking about your favorite movies.
"you've never seen scream?" you asked, practically confused.
he just shook his head, something glinting in his eyes.
you scoffed. "you have to. it's the best."
"you'll have to show it to me, sometime, then," was his response, which had you blushing, which had you wanting to.
cole never went in, as was expected. he seemed to spend the majority of his time goofing off in the dugout, throwing paper cups at his teammates, then turning away like he had no idea how they'd been hit.
luke threw a great game. he was the kind of player that drew your attention, that you just knew was good, even if you didn't know anything about the sport.
trevor only batted once (he leaned his shoulder into the pitch and took his walk). as an outfielder, he didn't see a ton of action, only getting one real shot at a catch, of course fumbling an easy out, much to the dismay of his teammates.
cole put his head in his hands but welcomed his friend back to the dugout with open arms.
the game ended with a win for the good guys, and you found yourself sticking around, all because jack wanted to wait to congratulate his friends and brother. he extended a hand to you to help you up from your seat, his grip firm and warm against your palm.
your group of four walked down to where the players would exit. you were surprised to find the silence especially comfortable, easy.
at some point, jack slapped his thigh, lightly. "i meant to ask you, baby, what's your coffee order?"
you gave him a confused sort of look. "just hot coffee with oat milk," you answered, almost wary. "why?"
"for next time," he answered, like it was the easiest thing in the world, maybe the most obvious.
you swallowed down how touched you were by this. it felt like ginger, like something you know is good for you but that feels foreign, harsh, anyways. "how do you like your coffee, then?" you asked.
"sweet," he answered, with a smile that made you feel like he knew something you didn't. "really, really sweet."
a chaotic presence shook you both from the haze you'd settled into. "oh, hey, guys." you turned, found your friend sophie there, hands full with a clipboard and her bag and a voice recorder. she pushed her hair from her face. "how's it going?"
"all good, soph," sam answered. "you?"
sophie blew out a breath. "will be good once i get a couple quotes," she said, "just hope they don't give me twenty-two. readers want quotes from impact players, and-"
"sayin' 'm not an impact player, love?" came a goofy approaching voice. you turned again to see cole coming out of the now open exit gate.
sophie groaned. "tell me they're giving me someone else," she pleaded, to which cole grinned wider. "tell me they're giving me someone who played, today."
cole rolled his neck, cracked his knuckles. "might wanna turn on your recorder," he advised, "you're gonna wanna get this."
sophie just rolled her eyes and pulled him to the side, beginning a short interview about the game as you continued to wait.
shortly after, trevor walked out, grinning when he registered the group of you. jack slung an arm around your shoulders as his friend approached, which you noticed. which you would have questioned, maybe, if he didn't pull you into his side in the best of ways, if his touch didn't make you basically delirious. so delirious that you reached a hand up to hold his, dangling from your shoulder.
you could almost hear his satisfied smile as trevor clapped alex on the shoulder in greeting. "packed the stands for us, eh?" he asked, to which alex laughed.
it was the most emotion you'd seen from him. sam appeared very confused, crossed her arms over her chest. "great game," she said.
"yeah," jack continued. "my favorite part was that gorgeous catch in the sixth." he nodded. "seamless."
trevor scoffed, waved jack off. "almost had that one," he insisted. "was this close." he brought two fingers up to show just how close he had been to making that catch.
"you were not," came another voice. you recognized the tall figure as jack's younger brother.
jack clapped his hand in a handshake, congratulated him on the win. you echoed the sentiment, stuck out your hand in greeting, which he shook. "really good game," you said, "i'm-"
"know who you are," luke said, to which you furrowed your brow.
"how?" you asked. luke shared a look with his brother, halfway amused, halfway bored.
jack cleared his throat. "might've mentioned you," he said, but it came out like a mumble, a murmur into your hair.
your heart felt too big for your chest, for a moment. the peanut gallery around you faded away, suddenly it felt like it was just the two of you, standing here. just the two of you, in this universe. "been talkin' about me?" you whispered, and you couldn't help but lean a little more into his side, your grip on his hand growing a little more substantial, a little more confident.
because you'd been someone's secret before, someone's wyd text late at night, someone's nobody, really, someone's a friend. you knew what it felt like to be traded up for, like an old phone, to be the just old enough model that someone looked for someone else, someone newer.
it felt a little spectacular to be someone to write home about, someone to be seen with in broad daylight, someone to be gushed about to a brother. maybe it just felt spectacular to be that kind of someone for jack, in particular.
"a bit," jack breathed into your ear, the softest, probably most uncertain you'd heard him. like he didn't want to scare you away.
you bumped your hip against his. "real chatterbox, hm?" you whispered, adoring the ghost of a flush up his neck, the shy smile he couldn't seem to hide.
"only about stuff that matters," he said, and whatever joke you were going to say died in your mouth, tasted bitter.
luckily, cole and sophie approached, drawing your attention away.
"good to go?" alex asked, to which cole nodded, a smug smile on his face.
sophie huffed. "i don't know why they give me you every damn game," she exclaimed, shoving her recorder and clipboard into her bag. "as if you could give me a useable quote if your life depended on it."
cole scoffed. "i can't help it if your questions are boring as hell," he said. "why don't you ask me something interesting?"
"like what?" sophie asked. "what do you propose i ask you?"
"to dinner next week," cole answered immediately, his smile more of a toothy smirk, and sophie groaned, shook her head.
"i'm out," she said, taking a quick right. she made eye contact with you and sam. "i'll see you back at the house, tonight, girls?"
you both nodded, called out your agreement and goodbye.
when sophie was out of earshot, trevor clapped cole on the shoulder. "don't you get tired of striking out, coley?" he asked.
"you don't seem to, trev," luke observed, to which jack let out a laugh.
"hey, i got a single out of today," trevor argued. no one seemed to view that as the victory that he did.
cole and trevor eventually peeled off to the athlete's dining hall to get lunch, while luke walked back to the row with the group of you, saying something about grabbing a shirt from quinn's room.
when you all made it back, standing in front of the tke house, jack reluctantly retracted his arm from your shoulders. you felt cold without it.
luke headed up to the door.
"luke, tell quinn i say hi, would you?" sam asked, to which he gave some confused confirmation, before disappearing into the house. sam then turned to alex. "a pleasure, as always, al," she said, barely sparing him a second glance.
"yeah, bye?" alex said, almost a question, obviously wary of sam's change in pace.
jack touched your hand, pulled your gaze to his like two magnets, eliciting some kind of shield between you and the rest of the world. "thanks again for coming," he said, so soft, you could feel in your bones that he meant it.
"'course," you said, found it strange that it was entirely true. of course you would come when he called you. of course you'd indulge his every whim, when he asked so politely. "see you on friday? for dance?"
and he gave the slightest of pouts, but it drew your attention to his mouth nonetheless. made your cheeks feel hot, your heart beat fast, nonetheless. "too long, baby," he said, and you could have rolled your eyes at his boyish whine, but you never would. not when he was whining for you.
you just stayed quiet, let yourself smile, slightly. "maybe before friday, then?"
he grinned as if some plan he'd formed had turned out exactly as he'd hoped. "i'll text you," he said, giving you that fairytale smile, and you'd been told that before.
you'd been told that before, during nighttime hours that passed like slug across rain-drenched walkways. you'd been told that while in boxer shorts that weren't your own, standing in a doorframe that was practically laughing at you.
i'll text you, you'd been told, from some guy on his bed, on his phone, not quite looking at you.
and the doorframe might have cackled at how desperate you seemed, then, desperate for something you'd never get from this guy in the room you were leaving.
kick rocks, girl, the doorframe might have said, you know how many i've seen come in and out, even just this week? and you really think you're special?
but, right now, jack told you that he'd text you, and you couldn't find a doubt in your mind. you knew he would.
you proved to be right. the weekend flew by, because you were busy, yes, but also because of the near-ongoing text conversation you had fallen into with jack.
he might ask you something about the classes you were taking (besides ballroom), to which you would shyly tell him about some finance discussion you found genuinely interesting.
you might ask if he played sports at all, like his brother (he played hockey growing up, but wasn't good enough to play in college, like luke was with baseball), to which you would tell him you found it hard to believe that he could ever be not good enough at something.
and you'd believe it, too, wholeheartedly. sure, he had this ease to him, this softness, but he also seemed to possess a specific kind of eagerness, a delicious sort of hunger you felt must lead him to the things he wanted without exception.
you wouldn't admit it to anyone who asked, but he had you smiling at your phone on more than one occasion, had your heart beating a little faster with every notification. he had you dreamy. it was a good look on you.
that's how he had you, just over the phone, so the feeling was amplified by a million the next monday afternoon, after class, on your walk back from the business building, as you passed the tke house. a walk you'd taken a hundred-something times over the years, but this time was different, because your name was being called out of an upstairs window.
your heart stuttered, because you recognized that voice, in its confidence, in its goofy gentleness. you stopped walking, looked up, searching for an open window.
"that you, jack?" you called back, when you found it, found him leaning out of the pane with a smile you could see from where you stood. even though you knew. even though you'd never mistake his tone for anyone else.
he gave a pout. "who else?" he asked, and it was careful, calculated, even though it was playful. like he really wanted to know who else you thought would call your name from a window. like he really wanted to be the only one.
"oh, no one," you assured him, beginning to walk down the sidewalk again, towards your house, "you're my only romeo." you'd meant it in a joking way, but you could tell the first three words were the ones that mattered to him. the ones that would echo in his head. you're my only.
this made him light up, made him glow like a disco ball in a middle school gymnasium. "look so pretty today, baby!" he said, in response, before the distance between you grew so stark.
you flushed, wanted to feel the word pretty from his mouth against your neck, wanted to swallow it down. but you just smiled. "only today?" you asked, wondered where this confidence had come from, tried to imagine you saying that to anyone else. you couldn't.
"come back tomorrow, just to check!" he called out after you, making you shake your head, look down at your feet.
you weren't even back to your front door yet before your phone buzzed. not just today, he'd texted you.
i knew what you meant :), you sent back.
just didn't want you to think differently, he replied, followed by spend a scary amount of time thinking about how pretty you are.
the following day, you'd be lying if you said a smile didn't bloom across your face as you walked back after class, as you approached the tke house. maybe it was some pavlov response, but it was probably because you recognized the figure sitting on the window pane on the top floor, swinging his legs, just looking out, like he was on the top of a pirate ship.
you smiled, but your pulse stuttered, a bit. "jack?" you asked, although of course you knew it was him, that perfect facial structure, shag of soft hair. "is it safe up there?"
his gaze fixed on you, alight with flame and amusement. "worried 'bout me, baby?" he asked, and you rolled your eyes, but something in you twitched, because you were, actually. when did that happen?
"why're you hanging outta your window?" you asked, because you didn't need to tell him that you cared that much about him, not yet. you barely wanted to admit it to yourself, even.
he seemed to take your deflection as confirmation, anyways, to see right through you, as he typically did. his grin ticked up, a beautiful combination of a bashful blush and confident smile. he pushed his hair from his face. "knew you'd be walkin' by," he said, swung his feet up and back gently. "had to catch you."
you swallowed, ran your palms along the straps of your backpack in delighted disbelief. "you were waiting for me to walk by?" you asked, still not quite understanding.
he only nodded, tilted his head, gave the softest of smirks. it was almost too much. "don't you know you've got me waitin' by the phone, baby?" he asked, melodic. it was almost like he was making fun of you, with that teasing tone, but you knew in your heart that he wasn't. that he would never.
cherry-blossom pink bloomed across the bridge of your nose as his confession registered in your mind. the thought of him throughout his day, acutely aware of his phone in his pocket, his heart racing at every buzz, like yours did. "bein' so patient, are you?" you asked, the words smooth and drowsy in your throat, like cough syrup.
he hummed, swung a leg back over the pane, starting to shift his body back inside. "'m here when you need me, baby," he said, matter-of-fact, absolute. his gaze sharpened, the temperature of it rising to a scorch you felt like a slap. "or when you want me."
it was something sort of breathtaking, how honest he was with you, from the beginning. how he seemed perfectly content just waiting for you to come to terms with the attraction you felt so deeply. the attraction he could see in your eyes, in your breath, in your words.
you were scared, though, because this was the before part. and the guys you'd had before had appeared genuinely interested during the before part, too. it was the after part you were concerned about.
because what if he lost interest as soon as he had you, like the other guys did? he seemed so different, and so genuine, and sure, you'd never thought anyone to be as beautiful as him, but what if he wasn't different? what if he left you, too, standing alone, dumb, a desperate fool?
how many times had a beautiful trick forced your hand? you shivered at the thought, but the romantic in you wanted to believe. in yourself, in him. she wanted to believe in the love story between the beautiful trick and the desperate fool. she needed to.
the following day, perhaps you shouldn't have been surprised, as you approached tke house on your walk back, to recognize jack's familiar figure in his front yard. he appeared to be making progress closer to you, day by day, from inside his room, to outside his window, to now, just next to the sidewalk.
the scene you approached wasn't necessarily a rare one, not on the row, but it might appear odd to an outsider. a few of the brothers, some that you recognized, were sitting on a couch that they had obviously moved from inside, while a couple others, jack included, were lounging on adirondack chairs. most of them had computers out, doing work, or something like it. and, of course, because it was a sunny afternoon, all of them, save for one, were bare-chested.
you weren't especially sensitive or judgmental when it came to that sort of thing, but, as you got closer, you found your cheeks growing hot, anyways. you were embarrassed like a kid, like you'd been caught with something forbidden, and you might've walked right by the house, avoiding eye contact, if jack hadn't made that impossible.
"tryna sneak by, baby?" he called out from his chair, teasing, his posture so distractingly relaxed, knees spread wide. he waved you over with a knowing smile. "c'mere," he said, but not like a demand. like a request, sweet-sounding from his full mouth.
and you'd do just about anything he asked, so of course you exhaled, turned on your foot, walked nervously from the sidewalk onto the lawn, over to his chair. you nodded your hello to nico, on the couch, on your way, finally stilled in front of jack's chair.
your heart was pounding, your palms felt damp. he'd called you baby, in front of all of his friends, like you weren't something to hide. the opposite, actually, like you were something to show off, someone to be proud of. he looked at you like you were worth something, and he looked so beautiful, drenched in sunlight, so stunning that your throat felt tight.
"hi," you said, internally smacked yourself at how lame you sounded, how dumb.
"hi," jack parroted, his smile growing as he shut his computer, set it down on the ground next to him. you suspected he could probably feel your nerves, your distraction. you suspected he was delighted in it. and that made you feel a bit better, at least. to be his delight, for the moment being. "you know quinn, right?"
you turned your eyes to the chair next to jack, to a face you recognized, the only one in the yard wearing a shirt. "yeah," you answered, giving quinn a small nod, which he returned. "hey, quinn."
the older brother gave you a small smile. "hey," he replied, "heard your sam's been askin' about me."
you laughed, twisted the sole of your sneaker into the grass slowly. "she has," you confirmed, although you highly doubted her interest was genuine. "very recently, at least."
quinn just laughed, gave a slight shake of his head before turning back to his computer. he knew something you didn't, you could tell, but you couldn't focus on that, right now, not when jack's voice called you back from your curious state.
"wanna sit?" he asked, spreading his legs wider as if to make room for you. you scrunched up your nose, slightly, in thought.
"you're not busy?" you asked, sort of shaky, shifting on your feet.
he shook his head, gave his thigh a soft pat in invitation. "wanna hear about your day," he said, and you could have swooned.
you set down your backpack next to his laptop, on the grass, let him pull you onto his lap. you settled into his chest, crossed your feet over the far armrest, rested your hands in your own lap as he draped a heavy arm around your shoulders to keep you upright.
you tried not to ruminate too hard on how warm he was, how his bare skin seemed to spark against you like an electric shock. jesus, had you ever been so awkward?
"nervous, eh?"
you looked up at him, found his smile lazy but his eyes attentive, almost concerned. you nodded, because who could lie to those eyes? "you make me nervous," you said, plainly, because it was true.
he fixed you with that starry gaze, his mouth dipping slightly into something like relief. you were confused, your brow furrowing as he took your hand in his free one, brought your fingers up to his neck, just below his ear. he pressed your index and middle finger into his soft skin until you could feel his pulse, until it vibrated through you.
until you could feel just how fast his heart was beating. you felt molten, all over, like day-old valentine's day chocolate over a flame.
you rubbed careful circles into his neck, as if to soothe the underlying pace. "like you just ran up the stairs," you said, and it came out like a whisper. jack just huffed a laugh, let his hand fall to the top of your legs. there was something mesmerizing in his eyes when he looked at you, then. "thank you," you added, a breath.
"make me nervous, too, baby," he said, so soft only you could hear. his mouth twisted into a teasing grin. "'m just better at hidin' it."
you rolled your eyes, but relaxed deeper into him, all the same, leaning your head back on his extended arm, shifting across his lap. "guess 'll have to get better at it, then," you said, a small smile on your face.
he just shook his head. "hope you don't," he told you. "hope you never hide from me."
your tongue felt too big for your mouth, then, so you just asked about his day, told him about yours, felt yourself grow more and more comfortable with each passing second, as the sun peeled across the sky like a sweet orange. you had homework to do, but you lost track of time, talking with him about everything and nothing, about nonsense and significance. you found yourself hanging off of his words like they were his lips, found yourself laughing so genuinely and sharing more with him than you had with a new person in a long, long time.
his laugh rang in your head like church bells. everything he said to you felt like a secret, like something just between the two of you. people moved to and from the lawn as you spoke, as you listened, but neither of you seemed to notice. the hours melted away in moments.
"jesus, there you are," came a loud voice from the sidewalk, pulling you from your bubble. you turned, found sam, a hand on her hip, looking right at you. "would it kill you to answer your phone?"
guilt bloomed in your chest. you hadn't thought to check your phone in what must have been an eternity. you quickly picked yourself up from jack's lap to grab it from your bag, caught a glimpse of his pout, which made your stomach flip. you scrolled through your notifications, winced at the texts you'd missed, mostly sam asking where you were. "i'm sorry," you said, looking up at her, and you meant it.
sam didn't hold grudges, though, had better things to do. it was one of the things you loved about her. so she just waved you off, approached you where you knelt next to your phone. she tilted her chin up at jack in greeting before noticing his brother. "'sup, quinn," she said, pushing her glasses to the top of her head. "didn't get the tarps-off memo, did you?"
quinn looked up, smiled right back at her. his gaze darted to the front door of the house and back in a second, almost undetectable, but you noticed it, noticed quinn's grin grow almost devious. "sorry to disappoint, sammy," he said, emphasis heavy on the nickname, his eyes settling on the door again. he coughed, nodded his head. "hey, uh, alex."
you bit your lip to stifle a laugh, shared a look with jack, who touched your shoulder lightly. just to say are you getting this? just to say i'm right here with you. as if you'd forget.
sam spun around to face alex, who stood on the front steps, hands in the pockets of his shorts. he wasn't looking at sam, though. he was glaring daggers at quinn, who was acting oblivious, practically humming contently in his seat.
"excuse me?" sam's voice was pitched. "what the hell are you wearing?"
your eyes widened as you registered the front of alex's t-shirt. it was a pretty pale yellow, with some bid day slogan on it, over three identical triangles. alex was wearing something tri delt.
you felt jack lean forward, his mouth right by your ear. "that from this year's bid day?" he asked. you nodded slowly, so as to let the scene unfold in front of you without disruption.
alex just looked down at his shirt, shrugged, appeared to be the picture of confidence, even arrogance. "what's the big deal?"
sam rolled her eyes, crossed her arms over her chest. "tri delt, al, really?" sam sighed, then began to pull at the sleeves of her own sweatshirt, tug it over her head. of course, she was wearing only a bra underneath. of course, she didn't care.
quinn laughed, let out a whistle.
jack's laugh shook through you as he leaned forward, rested his forehead on your shoulder blade. you grinned at the intimacy of it, of letting him hide his laugh in you.
sam exhaled again, her sweatshirt now in her hand, which she extended to alex as she fixed her glasses. "here," she said, impatient.
alex narrowed his eyes, took the blue mass of fabric, pulled it over his head.
sam didn't wait to see him put it on, like she didn't need to check, instead turning on her heel, in pajama pants and pretty much nothing else, and began to walk back towards the a phi house. she gestured your way, "let's go, you," she ordered.
you scurried to grab your bag, pushed up on your feet, touched your fingers to jack's chin, lightly, before making to follow her. "movie tomorrow?" you asked, emboldened by hours of comfort, of being made to feel comfortable.
"yes, please," jack said, and the way he smiled up at you was something of dreams. "i'll text you, yeah?" you nodded, turned to run after your roommate.
"pleasure as always, madam president," nico called out from the couch, to which sam scoffed.
you caught up with her, hugged her into your side. "feeling feisty, eh?" you asked.
"tri delt," she said, biting, "what a moron, honestly. who does he think he is?"
you laughed. "i don't think he's thinking about anyone in tri delt, right now," you tried.
"and don't think we're not talking about you," she said, wagging a warning finger at you, "disappearing for hours, just for me to find you in the lap of a," she gasped dramatically, for emphasis, "frat boy!"
and you did talk about it, later, in the comfort of your room. you talked about jack, and how special he made you feel, and how patient he was with you, and how different he seemed.
and you talked about how scared you were, how you were so worried that as soon as you gave him any more of you, he'd take it all and run like blue and red flashed in the rearview. how you were more scared now, probably than ever before, because of how ready you were to give him whatever he wanted, and after such a short time of knowing him, too. to give him all of you, if he asked.
or, at least, to give him enough of you that, if he did run, he would leave nothing left.
sam listened, and asked questions, and talked for a long while, but the gist of it was that sometimes good things are scary. sometimes to be scared is to care, and sometimes to care is to be human.
"jesus, just look at me," she said, "make a fool out of myself on the daily for that scumbag, and look where it gets me." she sighed. "minus one sweatshirt and plus one poor boy calling me sammy."
you laughed. "you're a lot of things," you mused, "but you're no fool."
unlike you, foolish one, some voice in your head taunted, low and mean. your nose twitched.
sam hummed. "so, i should be out of the room tomorrow night?"
you groaned, hung your head in your hands. "it's a terrible idea, right?" you asked. "of course he's going to think something specific when i asked him to watch a movie at my place, hm?"
she just laughed at your anguish, put her hands up in surrender. "hey, you asked him," she pointed out. "not like he snapped you u up? at three a.m."
you scrunched up your nose. "i guess," you said.
"you make the rules," sam reminded you, "you set the pace." she fixed you with a look. "but you seem to like the fast track, love." she gestured to her cheeks. "you're glowing with it."
and maybe she was right. but you didn't feel like you were glowing, the following night, the night jack was supposed to come over.
you'd fussed over your hair and your clothes and your general being, made and remade your bed, folded all the clothes in your closet, as if he would be doing a thorough inspection.
you felt scattered, scared, so devastatingly nervous. you caught a glimpse of yourself in your mirror, almost flinched at the lack of confidence you found, the physical embodiment of anxiety. it seemed to web under your eyes like spiders, seemed to coat your skin like dull plaster.
it was sort of odd you felt so anxious, you thought, because you trusted jack. you trusted him so much, so truly. brutal memories had your sense of security all twisted around, though. at the moment, you couldn't quite grasp his lips against your temple, you couldn't tangibly touch his kind smile, didn't have the echo of his reassuring words in your ear.
you just felt crazy. crazy for wanting to trust him, somehow even more crazy for not being able to just let go. how badly you wanted to let go of the past, of your insecurities, of your fears.
it was almost like you were being pulled between two realties. you felt the stretch in the lines on your palms, in the seam of your mouth, in your breastbone. it was a pull between the kind of fear you found some deranged sort of certainty in and the future, what could be, what you could almost taste, if you'd just let yourself relax. if you'd only let yourself enjoy it.
why do you have to remember every embarrassment and failure? some voice in your head screamed, why can't you just be normal? you swallowed around your sadness, because he'd probably want someone normal, right? he probably wouldn't want you.
as if summoned by your despair, your attention was pulled upwards by a knock on your window, a few quick raps. you squinted, were shocked to find jack's pretty face on the other side of the glass.
you lived on the first floor, so it wasn't necessarily unsafe, or anything, but the front door was right there, and he was early. he was early, and you looked like a mess, felt like an even bigger one.
still, you walked over to the window, pulled it open. "what're you doing?" you asked, cleared your throat to hide the shake in your voice.
his blue eyes flashed with something like recognition, gone again in a moment. "am i too early?" he asked, like some impatient kid on christmas morning. "i can wait by the front door for another hour, if you want." you could have sighed in his voice, this specific tone that calmed you like lavender, the one that was almost making fun of you, but not quite.
even in your chaotically disorganized state, you just left the window open, stepped back. "'course you can come in now," you said, welcoming him in. you gave him a bit of a laugh, but it sounded kind of sad as it came out. "'m sorry about all this," you said, giving a rough gesture to your room, yourself, as you sat at the foot of your bed. "i'd probably have fixed it by the time you were supposed to get here."
he climbed into your room, and the sight was so intimate it made your chest contract. when he looked up at you, confusion dripped down his gaze like candle wax. "what do you mean?" he asked, coming to sit next to you, warm and easy. "fix what?"
you gave him a half-smile, genuinely believed he was just being polite. "i know i look crazy," you said, running your fingertips under your eyes. "i feel crazy."
his eyes filled with kind concern, not pity, but just care. he tentatively wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulled you into his chest in an embrace that felt like a midday nap, exactly what you needed. "then i'm happy i couldn't stay away, crazy girl," he said, and it was so soft it hurt. "tell me." a request, only because he wanted to know. he wanted to know you.
and, after a sigh, you did tell him, just as you'd told sam. you told him about how scared you were, about how you could feel how he was different, how you knew it like some philosophical principle, but how you were terrified, anyways.
you told him about how dumb, how juvenile and stupid you'd felt, over and over again, just for wanting to be taken seriously, just for wanting someone to deem you worthy of something longer than a night. just for wanting someone to stay. you told him about how you'd had people be so sweet and kind and caring, but they'd still left after they'd gotten what they'd wanted.
and you sort of felt pathetic as you spoke, and you half expected him to laugh, to tell you that you were like every other girl, expecting un-promised things from some poor guy. but, of course, he didn't. of course, he just held you to his chest, listened to you the entire time, his thumb rubbing circles into your upper arm.
"i don't want you to think that i think you're a bad guy," you made sure to say, looking up at him, "and i don't want you to think that i don't care about your life, and your anxieties, and stuff, just because i'm rambling about mine." you let your eyes flood with everything you were feeling. "but i also don't want you to think i'm disinterested, or bored, or something."
he hummed, and it was quiet, for a moment, as your words rolled around his head. "what do you want me to think, then?" he asked, finally, gently.
you leaned your head on his shoulder, thought for a second. "i want you to know that i'm into you," you landed on, and the truth tasted sweet on your tongue. "and i want to ask you to keep being patient with me, please." your mouth quirked up. "like you already are, i guess."
his smile was something dreamy before he pressed his lips to your hair. "how about this?" he said, a murmur, "how about you let me try to convince you i'm staying, hm? trust me to?"
you found yourself nodding.
"and if you want something, you just ask me, okay, baby?" he amended. "ask me, and i'll be here. promise."
you looked up at him through your lashes. "thank you," you breathed, after a pause, because a promise was something special. him being so soft with you was something special, too.
he gave a slight shrug, his smile almost a smirk. "you told me you're into me, baby," he said, like that explained everything.
you just laughed into his shoulder, felt fear melt away, dissolve into the air. "what did you come over for, again?" you joked, because you were supposed to be watching a movie, and instead you'd unloaded all this information on him. instead, you'd told him how you felt.
but he didn't seem to hear the joke in your tone. "to see you," he said, simply, making you flush.
eventually, you watched the second scream movie, which was your favorite, and you asked about his day, and you continued to add to the filing cabinet of information about jack that existed in your mind. eventually, the dim light and night air made your words slow and your eyes droopy. eventually, the two of you fell asleep.
when your eyes fluttered awake, sunlight poured in through your curtains like flour through a sieve. your limbs felt stiff, your neck tight, having fallen asleep in an awkward position, but your head was clear, not foggy at all. you'd slept scarily well.
a slight shift on your mattress drew your attention, and your eyes widened when you registered jack, still asleep, still in the clothes he'd come in last night. you looked around to find your laptop on the floor, jack's sweatshirt halfway off the side of the bed.
checking your phone for the time, you mouthed a curse, because you were already late for your eight a.m. you must have forgotten to set your alarm for this morning. admittedly, you had been awfully busy last night, in a comfortable sort of way. you'd had much more important things on your mind than today's lecture, namely the way jack's voice grew rougher as the hours passed. namely, how he shared things with you like he trusted you with everything, like he knew you'd take care of him.
you silently rose, crept to the bathroom to brush your teeth and quickly get ready. when you emerged again, you were relieved to find his eyes still closed.
he looked so peaceful, like this, so blissful, almost angelic. the morning sun settled on his face, the crown of his head like a halo, his chest rising and falling with even breaths.
as you pulled on a different shirt and shorts, you couldn't help the small smile that stretched across your face. because, you remembered, you'd told him everything, and he had stayed. when you looked over at him, he didn't disappear. he was really, genuinely there, and had felt comfortable enough in your bed, in your space, to fall asleep with his arm under your neck, with his knee grazing your hip.
only when you picked up your backpack did he stir, reaching a hand to rub over his face, stretching with a groan that made you blush. when he retracted his hand, resting it up against your headboard, his sleepy gaze found yours. he smiled, an instinct, a compulsion. you smiled back. "tryna sneak out on me?" he said, yawning halfway through.
you approached the side of the bed he was laying on, by your nightstand, bent down and sat back on your heels so you were close to eye level with him. "no," you told him, honestly. you pushed his hair back from his face, and he hummed at your touch, eyes drowsy, getting used to the light from the window. perhaps still getting used to the light of you. "just didn't want to wake you."
he exhaled, and you felt the heat of it on your arm. "going to class?" he asked.
you nodded, smiled. "but i'll see you later, maybe?" you asked, hopeful. "i'll text you?"
"please," was his reply.
before you pushed up from your knees, though, you bit your lip with indecision. "jack," you began.
"yeah, baby?" he asked, almost confused, certainly intrigued.
"remember when you said to tell you when i want something?" you tone had grown cautious.
"'course," he said, reaching a hand forward, under your chin, to keep your eyes trained on his.
you swallowed, shifted. "i want something."
he smiled, shy, in a flash of teeth, just so, so pleased. "anything," he answered, sleep now gone from his gaze, replaced with something sharper, something beautiful. "anything." he said it like a plea.
you breathed out, searched his eyes, then leaned forward slowly, pressed your lips gently to his. only for a second, soft as anything, barely there, before making to pull away again.
then his broad hand was on the side of your face, though, guiding you back to his mouth, this time harder in commitment but not in force. the positioning was kind of awkward, with him propped up on his elbow, and he tasted a little bitter from the morning, and your heart felt like it was buzzing, but it was perfect. it was perfect, all of it, because it was with him.
no running away, his kiss seemed to scream at you, not from me.
you hoped he could sense your promise by the way you reached an arm around his neck, by the way you relaxed into his mouth, practically a sigh of relief.
he felt like lazy laundry days and laughing in the kitchen and pinkie promises. he smelled like worn-out cologne from the night before. he felt like trust, and belief, and something meaningful. he felt like something, someone, you could get used to. someone you wanted to, at least.
you both pulled away, at some point, only just barely, enough to catch your breath. you ran your nails along the nape of his neck, watched his glossy gaze settle on you.
"'m really gonna be late, now," you said, dumb, but you didn't really care. you had greater things to care about, it seemed.
he laughed, and you felt it in your fingers. "they're lucky they're getting you at all," he said, and it was a rasp. his smile grew lopsided. "or maybe 'm the lucky one."
you gave a slight shake of your head. he just said these kinds of things, and he didn't think about how they'd make your vision spin. how terribly inconsiderate. "i'll see you later?" you clarified, giving his shoulder a squeeze before getting up, lugging your backpack on.
he nodded, still a bit dazed, it seemed.
the thought made you smile. "bye, jack," you said, on your way out.
"bye, baby," he called out after you, a sing-song. you could hear the happiness leaking from his voice, could almost taste it.
time passed quickly and blissfully, from there. the semester began to rush forward in a flurry of classes and chapter meetings and philanthropy obligations, all which were cut with movie nights with jack in your room, nights on which he slept over more often than not (you swore every time he came over he stole a different sweatshirt of yours. your closet was starting to look scarce, but whenever you saw him push the too-tight sleeves up on his forearms, you couldn't find it in yourself to mind), dance class on friday afternoons (you didn't know how someone could be so tragically terrible at ballroom as you seemed to be, but you looked forward to it, all the same), parties at tke on the weekends (you grew to know his friends and brothers and their girlfriends, grew to be a part of their little world).
tonight was one of those parties, and you were in your room, trying to figure out what you were going to wear, before sam burst in the door.
"we're not going," she said, plain and simple, sitting on her bed.
you looked at her with a raised brow. "why not?" your eyes widened. "what did alex do?"
she rolled her eyes. "it's not alex," she explained. "i told nico no more bros and hoes bullshit a long time ago, and he didn't listen." she shook her head, as if disappointed. "what is the theme, if not golf bros and tennis club hoes?"
you gave a light laugh. "so we're actually not going?"
"nope," sam declared, "already put it in the chat. a phi is boycotting."
as if on cue, you received a text from jack that read coming tonight?
haven't you heard, you sent back, a phi is on strike :)
you accepted his almost instantaneous face-time request, grinning as his pretty features filled your screen. "what do you mean you're on strike?" was his immediate question.
"hi to you, too, jack," you teased, your stomach flipping when his eyes filled with something soft.
"hi, baby, 'm sorry," he amended, and his voice was genuine.
you waved his apology off lightheartedly. "i'm under strict presidential orders," you told him, "apparently nico didn't heed the warning about the bros and hoes thing."
jack groaned, then looked away from the screen for a second. "they're not coming," he called out to someone, "like, actually, all of a phi is not coming."
"and we're not budging!" sam called out from her bed.
"is that sam?" came another voice from jack's end. "put her on."
and so the phones were passed to alex and sam, respectively.
"c'mon, sam," alex said, the most emotion you'd heard from him in a while. "you guys need to come out. we need you there."
it was true, sort of. they needed girls there, and a phi was plentiful with pretty smiles and kind laughs.
"no can do, al," sam said, smug. "tke needs to learn their lesson."
alex blinked.
"will you put nico on, please?" sam asked, syrupy sweet. "i have some choice words for him."
"no, you can't talk to nico," alex responded, short.
"what's the deal, madam?" came a very nico-sounding voice, off screen. "it's a good theme, eh? think you'd look great in a tennis skirt."
you rolled your eyes.
"what, won't let him talk without his lawyer present?" sam pressed.
jack's laugh was bright. you felt it through the screen.
"he can talk to you when he puts a shirt on," was the curt response.
you smirked. alex was not doing a very good job of shielding his emotions, not anymore.
"you know me better than that, don't you?" sam asked, almost offended. "not one to get distracted easily by a bare chest."
alex sighed, rubbed a hand over his face.
"are you saying you get distracted by nico's abs, al?" sam continued. "i mean, i get it, even if i can't relate personally."
"you're not talking to him, sam," alex said. "our theme for tonight is not up for debate. it's too late."
sam gave a dramatic sigh, appeared deep in thought.
"well, can i talk to quinn, then?" sam said. "not for any reason, really, just want to see his face."
you bit your lip out of frame, smiled, because you had a feeling jack was doing something similar. you had a feeling that if you were in the same room, right now, you'd be sharing a knowing glance, a hidden laugh. you felt warm with that knowledge.
"quinn's busy," alex bit out. you could almost hear his grinding teeth.
sam just gave a theatrical pout that had you giggling.
"shame," sam said, a winning smile on her face.
you heard alex's deep exhale. "you're killing me, here, beautiful," he said, a sigh. your eyes widened. was alex finally breaking?
sam just hummed. "'s that my sweatshirt you're wearing, al?" she asked. "color looks nice on you."
then she handed the phone back to you, walked from the room, and when you looked down at the screen, alex was gone, too, leaving only the soft slope of jack's nose, messy hair in his face. "hi," you said, a smile bubbling free.
"hi," he parroted. "if you're not coming, then, what're you doing tonight?"
you shrugged. "probably just watching a movie here," you said. "nothing crazy."
his nose twitched, his eyes shone with an unasked question.
"wanna join?" you asked, loving the way his face lit up at your invitation.
he sucked on his teeth, and your stomach coiled with heat at the sight. "think 'm technically supposed to be here," he said, to which you pouted. "but i might be able to sneak out."
"sneak outta your own party?" you asked, a light laugh on your mouth like a sparkly gloss.
"for you," he added, which made your laugh settle into something dangerous.
you scrunched up your face in delight. "'ll leave my window open, then," you said.
"thank you, baby," he said, waited for you to hang up first.
you did leave your window open, let the cool nighttime breeze ease in, blowing your curtains slightly, the edges of your sheets by your feet. you were comfortably on your side, your mind quiet as your eyes lazily took in your computer screen.
the tassels on your drapes seemed to sing at jack's knock on the window pane. the fixtures in your room seemed to relax, the wood of your desk turning malleable, the light on the ceiling to burn hotter, dimmer.
play it cool, you wanted to shush them, the way you whisper to your friends in middle school when your crush walks past your locker, just act normal.
your smile crept up on you, slow and genuine, as he swung his other leg over, shut the window again, immediately kicking off his sneakers and collapsing on top of you, the weight of him almost oppressive against your chest, your face.
you laughed nonetheless, wrapped your arms around his middle to hug him closer, to breathe him in. you felt his neck relax, his heavy head hang just above your shoulder. he let out a breath, like he was exhaling everything heavy. like he was making space for you in his lungs, in his chest, in his being.
you rubbed gentle circles into his back over his sweatshirt. "successful jailbreak?" you murmured, your voice muffled into his chest.
he pressed his lips to your shoulder, gently, before rolling off of you, soft as anything but sparking heat between the two of you nonetheless. "you've made a fugitive out of me," he joked, laying an arm over your torso and pulling you into his side.
"sure they won't be missing you?" you asked, brushing his hair from his face. his eyes simmered with something lovely.
he gave a shrug you felt through your whole body. "if i was there, i'd be missin' you," he clarified in explanation. of course, your heart stuttered like a shy kid giving a speech at an all-school assembly.
"i'm glad you're here," you said, soft, the words not feeling like nearly enough. you hooked one leg around his, tangling the two of you further, then rethought your action.
because you'd known guys who'd groan at this kind of thing from you, who would warn you not to start something you couldn't finish, who would call you a tease or something much meaner.
but, of course, jack did no such thing. he just relaxed deeper into the position, nodded towards your abandoned computer. "what're we watching?" he asked.
you swallowed. it struck you as weird, that his endless patience and kindness sparked something hot in your stomach, that you wanted to give him anything and everything, all because he would never demand it of you.
his hand on your back suddenly felt heavy, his leg under yours too warm. you hummed, tilted your head up to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.
you could feel him smile against your lips. "what's that for, baby?" he asked, rough.
"for you," you answered, simply.
you felt his pleased exhale in your bones as he took your chin in his hand, led your mouth to his in a deeper kiss, this time, one that felt like coffee mugs with lipstick on the rim, like good morning texts before you wake up, like burning fireplaces in the winter, fragrant and lively. "so sweet for me, baby," he mumbled against your mouth.
you sighed, ran your fingertips along his jaw, found courage in the blue of his eyes that willed your nerves away. "can i have something, please?"
"anything," he answered, softly, immediately, as he always had.
you ran your tongue along the inside of your cheek, wondering what you were actually asking for. "i just want," you started, uncertain, then started again. "just-"
you cut yourself off with a shaky exhale, reaching an arm around his neck, shifted your body until you were on top of him, kissed him with something feverish in your veins. he let out some kind of whimper-ish sound, so strained, so desperate, as his hand found your hips, held you to him with intention.
you kissed him like you were burning, like you needed him to taste the flame of your want, like your desire was some burden you couldn't possibly shoulder alone.
he didn't seem to mind, anyways, quite the opposite - he kissed you back like he'd take anything you'd give him, like the fire you were exuding was water in a drought, like you were some fabled savior. like you were saving him.
you pulled gently at the hem of his pink sweatshirt, or yours, rather, withdrew slightly to help him tug it off. he was so beautiful, always, but especially now, glowing in the light of your bedroom, flushed entirely because of you, eyelids heavy with attraction.
you stilled, straddling his hips, his back against your headboard as you traced the veins in his arms with your fingertips.
his thumbs slipped under your sleep shorts, rubbed feather-light circles into the flesh of your hips. "tell me what you need, baby," he said. "whatever you want, swear it."
you bit your lip to dull your smile, because you realized, in that moment, that there was no semblance of fear in your mind. not even a drop of doubt. you knew, that no matter what you gave to him, no matter how much of yourself you offered up, he wouldn't leave you, dumb and ashamed, standing alone in some taunting doorway. he'd stay.
the fact made unfiltered want flow through you, powerful as a river after heavy rain.
you met his gaze with a confidence that hadn't been there in a long time, that he seemed to pull from you with ease. you rocked your hips against his lap, relished in the strain you saw in his eyes. "wanna feel you inside me," you rasped, continuing to shift back and forth. "wanna make you feel good, hm?"
you felt his groan in your teeth as he flipped you on your back in a single, swift motion, left messy, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, your neck. he didn't saw anything about how long he'd been waiting, about how long you'd made him wait, and you had a feeling it was because he genuinely didn't care.
you had a feeling the only thing he cared about, in this current moment, was the feeling of your collarbone under his teeth, the way your hands rooted in the curls of his hair, the not-nearly-enough friction of his grinding hips against yours.
you both twisted and tugged clothes aside, hurried, almost crazed, until you could take him in your palm, hard and hot, run your grip up and down his length, urging a groan from his throat that you wanted to taste. his exhales were so, so labored as his hips jerked towards you involuntarily.
your eyes widened, because you'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be with someone like this, to be with someone whom you trusted entirely, someone whose pleasure you could feel as deeply as if it was your own. it made your blood feel volcanic as it beat from your heart.
"please, jack," you begged, and his overwhelmed gaze found yours, again.
"i know, baby," he cooed, running his fingers through your folds, cursing under his breath at how wet he found you, from barely being touched. all from him. your grip around him faltered as he pushed two fingers inside of you, the stretch immediate. "i know." you cursed, shut your eyes as he thumbed your clit, making your breath feel heavy in your mouth. he retreated further. "just wanna taste you first, baby, please?"
you just nodded, perfectly happy to give him any he wanted. then his mouth was on you, his tongue slow, methodical, as you tugged at his hair, your face pinched in pleasure.
pressure coiled inside of you as he pressed his tongue flat against your clit, making your back arch up of your bed, the friction dreamy.
the weight of him pressed your hips down, heightening the sensation, making each motion of his fingers feel like an eruption of flame, each swipe of his tongue feel monumental.
you choked out a whine of his name, pulled on his curls just a little harder, lewd, slick noises echoing in your ears. "more," you breathed, to which he groaned, rocked his hips against the bed, desperate for some kind of friction, some kind of relief. the sight had you clenching around his fingers.
"not enough?" he asked, his voice gentle, the fervor of his motions anything but. "need more, do you, pretty thing?" you nodded, whimpered a please, which had him pulling his deft fingers from you, shifting closer to you. he angled his cock to your core, held your hips down with his other hand. he hummed. "you can have it, baby."
your eyes fluttered shut as he began to push inside of you with a moan that you swore made your lampshade blush, made the conservative hangers in your closet shake their heads, disappointed. you grasped at his forearm with a reaching hand, fisted the other in your cotton sheets, the texture heightened in your palm.
you felt the stretch everywhere, half expected your bedroom to crack in half, to feel the pressure just as acutely as you did. "almost there, baby, 'atta girl," he bit out, "fuck, feel so good for me."
you whined at his words, at the feeling of him all the way inside of you, that perfect stretch that gave way to something deliriously good as he began to move and in out, slow, deep.
you felt your eyes roll back, as if in slow motion, as you dug your nails into his arm, shuddered at the sensation as he pressed your hips harder into your mattress. "'s so deep, jack, fuck," you breathed, careful as a wince.
he held the top of your headboard with a steady grip, increased his pace. when he spoke, his voice was gritty. "that okay, baby?" he asked, shifting your hips to make you more comfortable, to make the angle feel better. "how's that?"
"so good," you moaned, raw, "feel you everywhere."
and it was true. he thrust in and out of you at a mind-numbing pace, with an intensity that burned through your body. time seemed to freeze, or maybe to liquify, to flow like molten rock. to scatter into oblivion, marked in breathy pants and strained moans, desperate kisses and tired muscles instead of minutes and seconds.
at some point, he took his hand off of your headboard, brought it to his mouth, bit down, as if to stifle a groan, as if to distract himself, last longer for you.
the thought shot right to your core, made your head spin faster, that his pleasure might run so deep, because of you, that he needed a distraction from it.
you moved your hand to your clit, rubbing carefully, moaning at the stimulation, which made you clench down, grip him in a maddening kind of way.
he gave a choked moan. "fuck," he grunted. "can't, jesus, can't do it, baby, so wet for me." his voice was a tortured sort of overwhelmed as his hips sputtered, as his pace continued, harder, faster.
he made to look away from you, maybe to sink his teeth into the flesh of his hand, again, but you wouldn't let him, instead reaching up to pull his fingers to your own mouth, press them against your tongue, soothe the angry red mark that had begun to show.
you swore your mind was somewhere else, somewhere shiny, somewhere sleepy, as you felt his stomach and thighs contract, firm and wiry.
"won't last like this, pretty thing," he breathed, a slight sheen on his collarbones, his forehead, shimmery under the overhead light. "so close, baby, feel too good for me." his exhale was unsteady. "so perfect like this."
"want it," you whined, so impossibly close, yourself. "need it so bad, baby, please. want all of it." your eyes met his. "need you."
he seemed to shatter at your words, at your request, his high, warm and hazy, triggering your own, a blur of whines and pleases and his hot breath at your temple, an all-consuming wave that had your vision blurring, had you clenching down on him so tightly.
he collapsed on top of you for the second time that night, this time his skin glowy and damp, the air sticky and humid as you both let your breathing normalize again, as you let your eyes flutter open.
he rolled to your side, refusing to unclasp his arms around your back, consequently pulling you to his chest, your nose against his breastbone. you traced a hand along the top of his spine, so perfectly content, so wonderfully blissful.
with anyone else, now would be the time when the anxiety really set in. now would be the time that the furniture started to hiss at you to get out.
such anxiety was nowhere to be found, though, not now. not with him. his rough hands felt soft on your back as he shifted deeper into your bed, making himself comfortable, making you comfortable, too, in succession.
and even though you knew it, he knew you, just so, so well. "'m staying," he whispered into your hair, "long as you'll let me."
your heart was pink jello in your chest. you pressed your swollen lips to his shoulder. "i'll let you," you promised.
and so your self-proclaimed frat-boy-ban was broken, completely done away with, replaced instead by the most delicious stability.
the already fast-paced semester was made a fairytale blur by your beautiful exception, in all of his endless kindness, his unrelenting loveliness.
how many afternoons did you spend in his lap, out on his front lawn? how many nights did you fall asleep together, tangled up in each other? how many parties started with his hat backwards on his head, but ended with it on yours, instead? when did you start to leave your window open, every night? how many mornings did he surprise you with coffee, remembering your order like it mattered, simply because it was something you'd told him? how many times did his beauty and thoughtfulness surprise you, again and again?
like the time you went with him to a baseball game, an away one, this time, to support his friends and brother, when you insisted that you'd drive. you'd had to stop for gas, halfway through, gotten out of your truck, had only just stuck the nozzle in before he'd come around the side to lean against the door.
you had felt yourself raise a brow, almost confused. "sort of a one person job," you'd joked, to which he'd smiled, leaned back further against the side, just waiting with you.
like he couldn't bear to sit in the passenger seat, alone, not when you were out here, hands idle.
or like the night of your ballroom dance midterm performance, in front of an audience (an audience that included a lot of your friends). you'd stumbled halfway through the steps, nothing crazy, but certainly enough to notice. your face had grown hot, an embarrassed strawberry-milk flush.
but then, across the stage, jack had tripped over his own feet, in a way that looked pretty intentional, if you thought so yourself, as if he wanted to draw everyone's attention for a moment. as if he wanted to keep any potentially judgmental eyes off of you. he caught your knowing gaze as he pushed himself off of the floor, shot you a cheeky wink.
or, like tonight, a phi's blind date formal. this event was always a highlight of the year, at the very least always entertaining, always a good source of drama, of gossip, for a few weeks following.
planning it was a nightmare, from what sam had told you, a disorienting flurry of spreadsheets and communications with different frats and teams. typically, each house was matched with a frat and an athletic roster, and the dates were assigned from there, based on survey results and different requests.
you were excited for tonight, not nervous at all, because you'd requested jack as your date, and sam practically ran the whole thing, so you knew there would be no surprises.
for you, tonight was just a fun opportunity to dress up, to hang out with your best friends and your favorite boy.
the reveal of the dates was one of the best parts of the night. you'd be called upon to come out the door, and your date was supposed to be standing on the front step to walk you to the venue of the formal, just a few blocks away.
you gave yourself a final once-over in the mirror, turned to sam as you slung your clutch over your shoulder. "ready?" you asked, to which sam gave herself a spritz of perfume, nodded. you held the door for her. "did you tell me already if you requested somebody?"
she gave you a grin. "quinn," she said, simply.
you laughed. "you're gonna drive poor alex crazy," you chided.
she just shrugged. "he's driving me crazy, more like," she corrected. "all he does is bitch and moan when i mention other guys, then he wears my sweatshirt like it's all he owns, calls me beautiful, all that nonsense." she gave you a look. "i'm losing hope, love. if he doesn't make a legitimate move soon, i might go for quinn for real, just for all his trouble."
when it was your turn to open the front door, you took a breath, turned the handle, weren't surprised to find that familiar figure on the other side, pink flowers in his hand, his suit fitting him so wonderfully, his eyes softening when they caught on you.
your smile came easily, so naturally, as you approached him. he reached an arm around your middle, pulled you into his embrace by the small of your back as you wrapped your arms around his neck. you pressed your lips to his jaw in greeting before he pulled back.
"let me get a look at you," he said, soft, holding your hand at a distance, giving you a twirl that made you feel like a princess. he whistled. "i'm the one on your arm, tonight, pretty thing?" he asked, his smile toothy. "must be my lucky night."
you flushed with contentment, ducked into his side. "i'm the lucky one," you insisted, before the door opened again, making the two of you move to the sidewalk as he handed you your flowers, which you accepted with bashful thanks.
sam now stood in the open doorframe, but her wandering eyes narrowed when they landed on the curly-haired boy that stood on the front step. "what the hell is this about, alex?" she hissed.
"you look lovely, sam," alex said, undeterred.
"yeah, okay, thanks," sam said, "you know i requested-"
"i know," alex interrupted. "i vetoed your reuqest." he offered her his arm, which she took, lightly, reluctantly.
"that's not how this works," she reminded him, "you don't get a veto."
"i'm the president," he deadpanned, "of course i get a veto."
"i'm the president," sam retorted, "and i requested-"
alex sighed, turned to face sam, placed his palm over her mouth. "stop," he said, short, "talking."
her eyes narrowed, and jack pinched your side as you took in the sight in front of you. you shared an excited look.
"please be my date, tonight," alex asked, removing his hand from sam's face only after her mouth stopped moving. "for real."
after a brief pause, sam's mouth broke into a wide grin as she looped her arm through alex's, fell into step behind you and jack. "get up off your hands and knees, al," she teased, "'course i'll be your date. waited long enough, haven't i?"
it was a storybook sort of night from there, one defined by shared laughter and good music and gushing with your friends about their dresses.
time passed too fast in a blur of dance-floor spins that made the hem of your dress bloom, gentle touches and laughs into shoulders.
at some point, you and sam took a break by the edge of the venue, next to the refreshment table, having promised to bring jack back a drink. sophie approached you. you smiled, having not really seen her since the last chapter meeting.
"hey, sophie," you said, "this dress is stunning on you."
"thank you," sophie said, genuinely, before her eyes flashed. "if you see cole come up behind me, warn me, okay?"
"isn't cole your date, though?" sam asked.
sophie sighed. "technically, yes," she admitted, "but he thinks i requested him, which i didn't, so now he's being especially persistent."
you tilted your head. "so you got paired together because your survey results matched up? completely organically?"
"i guess," she answered, exasperated. "which i don't get, because we have, like, nothing in common."
"you have a little in common," sam said, "you both love baseball. it's, like, all you talk about."
"okay, so we have one thing in common," sophie conceded. "it's a conflict of interest! i'm supposed to be an impartial reporter!"
you shrugged. "impartiality is overrated," you said, and you meant it. now that you'd settled into being completely honest about how you felt, you couldn't imagine it any other way, couldn't fathom hiding that kind of thing from people that mattered.
"code cole, code cole," sam whispered.
"soph, you gotta stop running away from me," cole said, coming up behind her, shooting her that confident smirk. "tirin' me out, love."
sophie sighed, turned to face him, crossed her arms over her chest.
"care for a dance?" cole asked, extending his hand to her.
her gaze dipped to his fingers, then rose again. "i'll dance with you," she said, which made cole light up with excitement, "if you agree to give me at least one objectively useable quote after ever single game for the rest of the year."
cole blew out a breath like it was the easiest decision of his life. "done," he declared. he gave an enthusiastic fist pump when sophie took his hand and led him to the floor.
leaning back against the table, you and sam scanned the room, laughing at trevor's ridiculously bold suit, scoffing at nico, who was dancing with two girls at the same time, sharing a knowing glance when you registered quinn and luke, sitting at a table on the outskirts, luke's tie completely untied, quinn's tied around his head. the two loners appeared to be engaged in a game of cards with their respective dates.
eventually, you made good on your promise to jack, grabbing two drinks. when you turned your back on the table, he was walking up to you, his face pleasantly flushed, eyes so doting. your smile grew as he got closer. your eyes shut, delighted, when he threw an arm around your shoulders.
"there you are, baby," he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. you were hit with a dizzying sense of deja vu, knowing you'd been here before, knowing so much had changed since the last time you'd been in this position. "thanks for holding my drink for me."
you smiled up at him, leaning into his side, warm and firm against you. it was something magnificent, to have it not be an act, this time. to have it be completely genuine. to have it be real.
"of course, baby," you said, the slight tease in your tone made shimmery by the glint in his gaze.
he hummed, moved his arm down to wrap around your waist, pull you against him as he swayed back and forth to the music. you exhaled, so utterly at peace, relaxed into his chest, tilted your head back to look up at him. he met your gaze eagerly, that smile you so adored overtaking his face like a mural on the side of a building. "what?" he asked.
you shook your head, laughed lightly. because what, really? how could you sum it up? "you," you answered, honestly. "just you."
how could you sum him up? he was one million things. your pretend boyfriend in the face of campus security. your ballroom dance partner. your movie-night, good-morning text, sweatshirt stealer. your window-climber, baseball-watcher, owner of your favorite smile. your tke boy. your exception.
he was one million things, but, when he leaned down to press his lips to your hair, he was only one.
yours.
fin.
937 notes · View notes
retroellie · 27 days
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Dating Spencer Reid
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Summary: What dating spencer Reid is like
A/N: I wrote this super-fast because I know I haven't really been active... so I wanted to write something quick for y'all! I miss y'all and I hope y'all enjoy!
Warnings: Some NSFW moments
Word count: 1.5K
-Spencer grew up on Victorian romance novels and old valentines' poems, so he was quite the hopeless romantic
-When Spencer wasn't solving theories and getting PHDs, he was dreaming of a beautiful romance. Basically, what I'm trying to say is that he isn't the most confident boyfriend, but he makes up for it in his own way!
-Y'alls first date was something straight out of a movie! I mean it was a bouquet of flowers, an expensive dinner followed by a movie theater that played only old 50's films.
-It was the kind of date that had you falling in love with him first thing, knowing that this boy was the person you see yourself coming home to every night.
-After the date, Spencer offered you his jacket and walked you home. It was a chilly night, the streets lit up from the moonlight. He rambled on and on about the movie, but you couldn't even focus on what he was saying because you were too distracted by him.
-What you fell more in love with was the fact he didn't expect you to even kiss him!
-He was more than okay to say your "goodbyes" and "see you later" than leave.... but you gave him a soft peck before heading into your apartment. Even throughout the darkness you could see his blush.
-Anyways, that date led to a beautiful love story between y'all
-Spencer was a romantic even in the littlest of ways, like sending flowers to your work randomly or leaving you small poems in your fridge before he leaves so it feels as though he never really leaves.
-Spencer would always make sure to call you every night when he was away for work... I mean EVERY night.
-"Spencer honey it's 3am here..."
-"I know! But I just wanted to call you, should I call back in the morning?"
-"No, I'm already up and well I miss hearing your voice anyways." You laughed softly.
-The start of your relationship was so innocent, there was no sex or jealousy... it was just so simple and romantic
-There was lots of making out though, something that surprisingly Spencer was the one to initiate every time.
-There were just lots of times when you two would be discussing a book that Spencer probably recommended to you, then all of a sudden, his tongue would be down your throat.
-He was getting used to hugs and the touching, but kissing was something that felt so natural when he did it with you.
-Speaking of books! He had a list of books he recommended to you, like books that you never thought you'd read but you're glad you did yk?
-You would finish a book in one sitting and call him immediately to talk about it
-In turn though, you would bring him into the modern era and show him newer movies and music. Most of the stuff he did not like, but he pretended to like it to be nice.
-The first couple of months of your relationship, the team had no idea you existed. They started to notice spencer being in a lot better mood, but nothing too alarming.
-However, Derek Morgan is a lady killer... so he caught on a lot faster than the others.
-Like one time, the whole team was going out for drinks and Spencer said he had plans... Derek caught him in a lie real fast
-"So, who's the lucky lady?"
-"What?"
-"Pretty boy...I don't need to be a profiler to figure out why your suddenly so "busy.""
-Because of Morgan prying, Spencer decided to invite you out with the team one night.
-The team was all pretty nice, but very confused on why someone like you would want someone like spencer?? You two were completely different from each other... like night and day damn near
-Besides your differences, the team fell in love with you probably harder than Spencer did. I mean Penelope basically adopted you by the end of the night... she did however do her background checking before meeting you, but we don't gotta talk about that.
-The meeting of the team made the relationship real, like now you had become a part of their small family, and they trusted you enough to take care of spencer
-Spencer also felt this was a huge step, like now that his family accepted you, he was going to spend the rest of his life with you
-Spencer would always bring you up when he got the chance now, putting a framed picture of you and him on his desk just so people would ask about you.
-"Oh, who's this?" Someone would ask.
-"That's my girlfriend, Y/N. We've been dating for 11 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days. She's a (profession) and she smells like lavender."
-Like girl, all they asked was who you were... not every detail of your existence.
-But now that you guys are now officially dating, and everyone knows it... there's some newfound jealousy
-Spencer knew that you were attractive, but sometimes he forgets that you are also attractive to others as well
-Sometimes when you come into the FBI office, he sees other men staring you down... probably wondering how a nerdy boy like him could get someone like you.
-Spencer getting jealous is quiet and polite. He doesn't get angry or upset, we all know he does not do good with emotions. So, he'll just keep his distance from you, accepting the fact that you could leave him at any moment and not wanting to feel the effects of it.
-He will go silent for days if you didn't ask him about it, not even sure what he was feeling but knew he didn't like it.
-"Just didn't like how he was looking at you... made me feel weird."
-"You're jealous?"
-"I guess... I don't know."
-You just laughed it off, telling him how you would never choose anyone over him even if there was a gun to your head.
-Spencer also remembers everything about everything so... he picks up on your favorite things and your little quirks, plus he never forgets an anniversary!
-Derek bullies the shit out of him, like omfg
-he'll always call you his mommy and make kissing sounds when you call him, loud enough for the entire office to hear.
-"Muah muah muah... Oh Y/N!!" Derek yells, making sure you heard him.
-"So let me guess... Dereks with you?"
-"How'd you know?"
-He actually doesn't use too many pet names, but you definitely do lmao. His name is literally "Spenice poo <3" on your phone.
-Eventually, Spencer asks you to move in with him and omfg!!! You are so excited, like jumping up and down excitedly.
-I feel like spencer would be so domestic too omfg
-He would play music while cleaning the house, but it would all be like Mozart and classical music. You would always grab him by the waist and start dancing with him, you both looked so stupid but at least it was together.
-He would ramble to you all the time and you were probably the only person in the world that would let him, honestly you enjoyed it too.
-Like you had just gotten out of the shower, Spencer barged in and started talking about a case. He sat on the toilet seat while you did your skin care, just rambling on and on about how sick this person was.
-Yours and Spencer's different aesthetics clashed a lot in the house, like Spencer's apartment was slowly being taken over by you and your stuff... but he didn't mind.
-Since you guys have decided to take your relationship to another big step... Spencer decided he wanted you to pop his cherry.
-Spencer wasn't too experienced and he's never really had sex before. He's done stuff with someone, but never the actual act of it.
-He wanted to do it way before, but he thought it would complicate everything and honestly, he wasn't completely ready for it yet.
-You made sure it was the perfect night, you had it planned out. You took him on a picnic, watching the sunset as you loosened him up a little bit, making sure he was comfortable before setting yourself down on his lap.
-You were so soft with him; I mean you were afraid you might break him. He had to beg for you at one point because you weren't going fast enough.
-The next morning, he had to go into work, something about him was different... his confidence boosted a bit. Derek could sense it from a mile away, making sure Spencer knew that he knew.
-The popping of his cherry had created something inside spencer, he found his favorite thing to do, and he wanted it at all times
-You obviously were glad to give him whatever his little heart desired, so you let him fuck you anytime he wanted. Sometimes it even got a little filthy... something you would have never guessed about spencer.
-My bad I got sidetracked... but spencer was also way touchier with you
-Spencer was never really touchy in public, but now it's all he ever did. If you were in the room with him, then his attention would be completely on you.
-He really just felt so safe with you, knowing that you gave him not only your body but also your mind... he just wanted you, period. 
497 notes · View notes
oracle-of-dream · 1 month
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Sweetness
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Minors DNI
Summary: After being invited to hang out with your old friends, you try playing a game with hypnotism. But things didn't go as planned...
Warnings: Male Reader, Hypnosis, Blowjobs, OT7, Slight Dubcon, Making out, Handjob
Word count: 3.1k
The rain hit the window softly as you watched Tiktoks on your phone. There was traffic so the bus was behind schedule, and the rain wasn't helping. The window was cold, your coat was warm, and your head softly bumped against the window as the bus moved through the stop-n-go streets. The video you were watching was about a man pranking his girlfriend by hypnotizing her into doing his chores, and he showed you how to do the same.
"What a load of BS," You mumbled as you let your eyes slowly drift shut.
When you woke up, your phone flashed at 6:45 pm. You promised the boys you'd be at their dorm by 6 pm, but it was almost an hour past that! Luckily the rain seemed to have lightened up, so you dashed off the bus with your hood on toward the dorm. It was a three-minute walk, but you cut it down to 2 as you rushed around the street corners and j-walked.
You knocked on the door, following the secret pattern they'd taught you. The door unlocked and you pushed your way inside the warm apartment, letting the door shut behind you.
"Guys, I'm here!" You shouted out as you took off your shoes.
The sound of footsteps came toward you as you heard them talking to each other.
Shotaro's face was the first one you saw,  but the others were right behind him. He pulled you in for a hug, "Hey man, how's it going?"
You held him tight, "It's good! The rain died down for a second so I got here without getting soaked.
"That's good because it's supposed to be a storm the rest of the night," Wonbin said as he ate some of his chips.
Everyone muttered in agreement about the storm until you'd finished taking off your shoes and hanging up your coat.
"So, ready to hang for the weekend?" You cheered.
The boys all shouted in agreement.
You'd known all of Riize from training with them. They'd managed to get into the debut group, but you didn't. Not hard feelings, they'd always call and share their experiences with you at every step to make sure you didn't miss out on anything. Since they had no schedules for the weekend, they invited you over to catch up and play around with them.
The group gathered in the living room; drinks, snacks, games, and movies were laid out for the group on the table.
"So, what's first?" Eunseok asked.
Everyone looked at you for an answer.
You sighed, "How are all of you so indecisive? Fine, I'll choose!" You sat for a minute, trying to think of something fun for everyone. Wonbin would leave if we put on a scary movie, Sungchan gets a little too competitive at games, and you were running out of stuff to talk about. But then you remembered the Tiktok from the bus.
"Hey, check this out," You pulled out your phone and showed the video to everyone. "Should we try this?"
Everyone shrugged or gave a silent nod.
"You don't believe that stuff works, do you?" Anton asked.
"Well, no... But it'll be fun to try anyway, right?"
You collected a few things around the apartment that you'd need. A cup of water, a clock, and you borrowed Sungchan's weights since you needed something heavy.
"Now we need a volunteer," You put your hand out, waiting for one of the boys to speak.
But no one looked like they wanted to be first. "
If I go first, then will someone go after me?" You begged.
They all agreed that you'd go first. Sungchan gave you the weight to hold in your lap "to ground your spirit", Anton had several watches so he picked one of his at random, and Eunseok got the glass of water.
"Okay, you need to pick a trigger word for my hypnosis to trigger, but I can't know it. So figure something out," You covered your ears as you let them discuss with each other.
Soon, Wonbin tapped your arm, letting you know they picked something.
"Alright, so now I need to close my eyes and focus on the sound of the watch. Anton, hold it to my ear. And someone else does the talking."
You closed your eyes and felt Anton put the watch near your ear. Each tick was soft, so you had to focus on it to hear it. Then you relaxed completely, focusing on the sound in your ear, the ticking echoed in your brain.
"Y/n, you're now falling under our spell. Let go and trust us," Wonbin said as he read from the script from the video. "We're now entering your mind, and you're under our control. When we say sweetness, you'll follow any orders you get. The word is sweetness. At the snap of my fingers, you'll wake up and forget about this."
There was a snap. The sound of the watch faded and you opened your eyes.
"Well, did it work?" You looked around.
Sungchan shrugged, "Let's find out." He knocked the cup of water over, spilling it onto the table. "Sweetness, could you clean that mess up?"
Without a word, you stood and cleaned the table with your shirt. Mostly pushing the water around until it was absorbed completely into your clothes. You sat back down, the members staring at you in shock, and you blinked.
"Well, did it work?" You looked around, confused by everyone's faces. You were also suddenly cold, and wet, "Hey, when the hell–"
Sungchan spoke first, "I don't think it worked. I told you not to move and I threw the water on you, and you just let it hit you. Were you faking?"
You shook your head, "You did? I don't remember that."
The others exchanged looks of surprise at their sudden revelation. You were hypnotized and didn't know it.
Seunghan leaned on the table, "Maybe we should try again?"
"On the next person, I already went," You whined.
"Sweetness, please, go get another glass of water?" Seunghan asked, holding the cup out to you.
Again, without a word, you took the cup and filled it with cold water before giving it back to him and sitting down in your spot.
"So... Which one of you is going next?" You asked, oblivious to Seunghan's devilish smile.
Seunghan yawned, "Actually, this is boring. Let's do something else, right everyone?" He looked at the group, hinting at what he wanted and they all nodded in agreement.
The group decided to move on from your hypnosis and play card games instead. Uno first.
You slapped a card down, "Uno! I'm gonna win~"
Sungchan's ears were red as he still had almost twenty cards, "Sweetness, switch with me."
You handed him your one card in exchange for his twenty. Everyone watched in awe as you did it without arguing or fussing.
When you came back, you realized your hand was heavier than a moment ago. "How the fuck!?"
Anton picked up two cards and handed them to you, "You called 'Uno' when you have too many cards, you have to pick up two more!"
"But I... I had only one card–" You scratched your head trying to remember getting to twenty.
Sungchan won the game in the next round, but everyone seemed happy he won.
Next was the scary movie, The Conjuring.
Wonbin barely made it through the first 20 minutes without crying. You were sitting next to him, trying to enjoy the movie but he kept kicking you when he was scared.
"Bin, stop! I can't enjoy the movie," You nagged.
"Sweetness? Can you hold my hand?" Wonbin asked.
You held his hand unconsciously and kept watching, only to realize you were holding it when he almost crushed it to pieces.
Seunghan looked over to you, "Sweetness, Wonbin looks scared, you should hold him!"
You crawled over to Wonbin and wrapped your arms around his waist. His face went pink as he looked you in the eyes, which were empty as if you were asleep. You shifted to where he was slotted in between your legs as he lay on the arm of the couch, being pulled into you.
"When the fuck did you get so close?" You whispered at Wonbin.
He was too embarrassed to answer, only shrugging as he tried to look at the screen.
You were already comfortable so you didn't bother pushing him off you, letting Bin get comfortable in your embrace.
Now it was Truth or Dare.
"That's lame, you guys always dare crazy stuff!" You complained.
"But you always pick the truth anyway," Sohee added.
You wanted to complain but he was right...
Shotaro whispered in your ear, "Sweetness, you should be risky. Only pick, dare, for the entire game."
You blinked as Shotaro went back to his seat, snickering to himself.
The group made Anton drink a hot sauce shot, Sungchan and Shotaro went to the bathroom together, and Wonbin dodged three challenges so he was three shots deep. Now it was your turn.
Anton asked, "Y/n, Truth or Dare?"
You opened your mouth, "Dare." You waited for your friends to boo you for picking the truth again, but then you realized what you'd said. "No, wait–"
"Too late! You said dare!" Shotaro cheered.
"I dare you, to kiss your favorite member," Anton blushed as he gave you his dare.
"No way! I'm not kissing any of you," You reached for the Soju bottle, but Eunseok stopped your hand.
"Sweetness, kiss a member, anyone," He muttered.
You leaned over to Sohee and kissed him on the lips, earning cheers from everyone as you realized what you'd done.
You recoiled and rubbed your lips, "I didn't mean to kiss you– Hee, I'm so sorry!"
Sohee's face was already red, "No no, it's okay! I'm glad to know I'm your favorite."
Wonbin started pouting, his face with a drunken glow. "I want a kiss too, y/n," He leaned toward you.
"Y-You've had too much to drink!" You pushed him back to his spot.
"Sweetness, kiss me, now!" Wonbin whined.
You crawled to him and kissed him.
"Sweetness, keep going! Kiss him more!" Someone else cheered.
You and Wonbin were making out in front of everyone. He tasted like yogurt soju and strawberry lip balm, and his hair tickled your face.
"Sweetness, me too!" Eunseok chirped.
Immediately dropping Wonbin, you climbed onto the couch. You straddled Eunseok and kissed him passionately, more than you had with Wonbin. Eunseok's eyes squeezed shut as he held your waist.
"Uh, guys, I don't know. This is getting a little much," Sungchan shifted in his seat. "Maybe we should stop."
"Or you're being no fun! Maybe you want some too!" Seunghan pulled you away from Eunseok, "Sweetness, Sungchan needs kisses too. And make sure to make it good for him."
"Hey-" Sungchan tried to protest but you were already on him before he could. You slipped your tongue into his mouth, moving your hips as you pressed yourself into him. Sungchan's muscular arms landed on your waist, pulling you closer to him as he crushed you. You let out a soft moan from the pain but persisted in kissing him.
Sungchan was enjoying the moment, until he felt your hand worm its way down to his belt to remove it, "Wait, wait– Sweetness stop!"
You snapped out of it, in Sungchan's arms with warm lips.
"What the fuck just happened?" You asked, eyes wide.
The members looked around with panicked expressions.
"Well, you see... I– Um," Sungchan tried to explain while still holding you.
Wonbin, still very drunk, says, "Sweetness, have you ever sucked a cock? You have the lips for it."
"Never," You answered.
"We should fix that, and everyone else here wants to play with you..." He mumbled as he passed out on the table.
"Fix what? Play with me? Someone better spill," Your expression started to form anger.
"Sweetness, forget what he just said! He was joking!" Sohee said, panicked.
You blinked, and held your head, "I think I had too much to drink guys... My head is killing me, and my lips burn. Maybe I should call it a night."
The group agreed. Seunghan helped Wonbin to his room with Sohee and Anton. You slept on the couch while everyone else went to Sungchan's and Shoato's room.
"Okay, we need to set rules here," Sungchan warned. "We can't tell y/n about tonight! Then we'll all be killed."
"I didn't even do anything," Sohee raised his hand.
"You made him forget!"
"I panicked!"
"Which means you're just as bad as us," Seunghan reminded.
"So, no telling him. What else?" Sungchan asked.
Anton spoke, "Maybe, don't let other people say it around them. Like if it happens, give a quick and simple command?"
Everyone nodded.
"Until we figure out how to undo that, we'll have to keep our eye on them. And also, no using them like a maid! Just because he can do our chores doesn't mean he should," Sunchan commanded.
"Wait, does it count if he says it, or reads it?" Eunseok asked.
Everyone paused at the thought. No one had thought about that.
"Someone text him, he'll look at his phone," Seunghan ordered.
Anton whipped his phone out.
A: Sweetness, can I have a picture of you?
YN: No, wtf? What's with Sweetness?
A: Nevermind, forget it
"He's okay if he reads it."
"Noted. Tomorrow morning, we figure out how to fix him," Sungchan clapped to dismiss everyone.
Everyone went back to their rooms– Wonbin was dead asleep in bed.
You woke up to the sound of someone in the kitchen. You sat up to see Wonbin getting a glass of water.
"Binnie? What time is it?"
Wonbin looked at his phone, "It's not even 5 am yet, go back to sleep."
"Wait, can I talk to you?"
"Sure, what about?"
"What exactly happened last night? There are gaps I can't remember, super brief ones, but I really can't put it together."
"You want the truth?"
You nodded.
Wonbin sighed, "We did hypnotize you. They used your trigger word so you'd do as they told you. But things got out of hand... You started making out with us."
"That wasn't me–"
"I know, it's all our fault, and you have every right to be mad," Wonbin lowered his head.
"So y'all told me to make out with y'all?"
He nodded solemnly, "I'm sorry for taking advantage. It was wrong. And I know all the members feel the same."
"Well, at least it's over, now that I know it means the hypnosis is over."
Wonbin's head shot up, "Really?"
You nodded, "Once a person knows they're being hypnotized, it usually breaks it– But don't tell the others yet. I want to see what they'll do."
Wonbin nodded, "It's only fair you get us back. Should I test it?"
You nodded.
"Sweetness, I've been bad, slap me."
You slapped Wonbin's cheek.
Wonbin rubbed his face in shock, "You're still hypnotized!"
You laughed, "No, I'm not. You deserved that." You sent him to bed with his painful reminder not to mess with you as you plot your revenge for the next day. It wasn't long before someone else came into the living room.
"Y/n, are you awake?" It was Sungchan.
You rolled over, pretending to sleep.
"Please forgive me later... Sweetness, can I have a kiss?" He muttered.
You sat up and held your hands out to him, waiting for him to get closer. When he did, you pulled him in for a kiss.
"Whoa, it's even better than before– It's like you really... mean it." Sungchan sat on the couch with you, "Sweetness, take off your shirt."
You stripped off your shirt. Normally you'd cover yourself shyly, but you had to keep up the charade longer.
Sungchan touched your torso, admiring it before he stripped off his shirt. "Sweetness, I... I love you. And, I want you to say it too."
You swallowed, and your throat ran dry at hearing him confess to you. Originally you were going to stop before things got too far, but you didn't have the heart to break character. "I-I love you, Sungchan."
"Call me, Sungchannie."
"Sungchannie."
You watched as his hand slipped down his pants as he rubbed his cock, "Say you love me again, say 'I love you, Sungchannie', do it now, Sweetness."
"I love you, Sungchannie..." Your breath hitched as you repeated the sentence.
"Sweetness."
You held your breath, listening for his next command. You weren't hypnotized anymore, but you wanted to listen to him.
"C-Can you suck me off?" He stuttered.
"Y-Yeah," You replied, with big eyes.
Sungchan almost jumped when you answered, "Y/n! You're not– You're awake! I, uh–"
You covered his mouth, "Don't tell anyone. This will just be you and me..." You slipped your hand down his pants and took over stroking his cock.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Were you pretending the whole time?"
"No, just this time I was."
Sungchan nodded his head, understanding it wasn't time for more questions as he watched you lower your head.
"Can I... make you act like you're hypnotized?" He asked
You smiled devilishly, "Say the magic word then."
"Sweetness, suck it. Now," His voice got deeper as he shoved you down, forcing his cock down your throat.
You started sucking on his tip as you looked up with big cute eyes. He can't help but push up into you, fucking your mouth. Your eyes watered and you gagged at every thrust. Anyone could walk into the living room, hearing the noise, but Sungchan didn't care. His voice started to slip out of his mouth in soft moans.
He lets go of you to let you catch your breath. Spit dripped down your chin as you breathed heavily. He had to cover his mouth but wanted to fuck your throat again too, you put his dick back in your mouth. Looking up again and keeping eye contact. Sungchan's free hand stroked your head, praising you silently.
Your eyes watered, your chin covered with spit as you gagged like crazy. You chase your orgasm as you moan and rub your cock in your pants. After only a few seconds, you let out a stronger moan as you finish in your pants. Sungchan was quick to follow.
"Sweetness, swallow it!" He commanded.
You dutifully swallowed every drop, not letting any go to waste. You released him with a loud pop, and Sungchan's head was spinning.
"Holy shit... You're way too good at that," He complimented. "Now, go back to sleep, Sweetness. We can talk in the morning."
You laid down like you were going to fall asleep and Sungchan left the room, not realizing someone had been watching him...
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the-delta-quadrant · 6 months
Text
here are some things that would help me as a blind person regarding online accessibility (mobile for me):
- all apps should display all text sizes (iphone goes up to 310%)
- all apps should display bold text if it's turned on in the system settings
- there should be a standard for text size; if my text size is 100% across all apps, then an instagram post, a toot, a text message etc. should all be the same size, no more "instagram and tumblr are always slightly smaller for some reason" bs
- an app's formatting (such as buttons, alerts etc) needs to be compatible with large text! large text doesn't help me if all the buttons are suddenly overlapping or i can't get out of an alert window because they forgot to program the ability to scroll. no more overlapping shit, no more missing shit, no more "i can't get out of this window without closing the app and changing my text size"
- usernames, channel names, all word and sentences should be fully visible even with large text! i don't know what channel "# ge..." is on discord. find a way to make it visible, either make it multiple lines, give me the ability to side scroll or make it move like a spotify song title
- make sure things that shouldn't be affected by large text aren't! if i need to scan a barcode and my large text settings make it unrecognisable to the machine, that's unhelpful
- all apps should have a light mode and a dark mode! certain conditions make it easier to see light mode, others make it easier to see light mode
- dark mode should be as high-contrast as light mode, i.e. white on black, not white on dark grey
- probably have other options beyond regular dark and light mode
- on apps that let you customise your profile a lot visually, give the option to view it in your phones' settings, i.e. if someone's got a dark red on black serif-font tumblr, i wanna be able to make it into a white on black plain font tumblr
- alt text should be accessible without a screenreader
- there should probably be a dedicated field for video descriptions too
- apps that give hashtags a different colour than the rest of the text should let you choose the colour
- all apps should let you view someone's profile picture in full size
- this one is specific to instagram: let us fucking zoom in normally! why do i have to do finger gymnastics just to stay zoomed in and read text on a picture? the zoom should work the same way it does in my photo library and literally everywhere else
most of these shouldn't be that hard and they would make my life a hell of a lot easier. i'm tired of running into issues because i'm too blind to read regular size text.
i WISH it was as simple as "describe your images" and "no fancy fonts", which is something people can easily choose to do to make things a little more accessible, and if they don't, i can unfollow and surround myself with people who post accessible stuff.
but all of the things i listed are things done my developers and not regular users, it's stuff i can't just ignore by surrounding myself with people who care about blind accessibility if the people who create the spaces don't care about blind accessibility.
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mmurderhousewrites · 1 month
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Modern au sukuna and reader+ one bed trope+ fluff or smut you can choose
i love the ideaaa i did my best, i hope you like it. &lt;3
Summary: You and Sukuna are forced to share a bed together.
Warnings: Smutttt! like real nasty. Fingering, friends to lovers kinda? unedited
wordcount: 1947
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It was late march when your boss had given you a mission out in the states. You were a detective in Tokyo but one of your men had gone missing, making your boss send his best men.
Unfortunately that meant you and your coworker Sukuna. You didn't exactly have a problem with him but he was a flirt. And sometimes you couldn't help but feel butterflies in your stomach when he would compliment you or make a joke. Perhaps it was because he only seemed to flirt with you? He was quit rude to everyone, even you but you seem to like his sarcastic attitude.
After arriving to the hotel, you tip your taxi driver. Sukuna was silent almost the whole way here, on his phone. You wondered if he didn't want to be on this mission. After all it was a long way from home.
"thank you" You say to your driver before stepping out. Looking up you could tell this was a nice hotel. It looked to be at least 50 floors high.
Sukuna steps out the car as well and follows you to the trunk, popping it open and taking out your guys' luggage. You grab your f/c suitcase from him and giving him a quick thanks.
"no problem, sweetheart." he flashes a smile down at you and closes the trunk, tapping it to let the driver now he could pull off.
The two of you make your way to the big entrance, A black archway above you and clear glass doors. Plants and flowers hung from the ceiling and down the sides, as well is littering the lower part of the wall.
Walking through you're greeted by the hostess, a fairly tall women in uniform. She was quit pretty with brunette curled hair.
"Welcome to Midas Hotel! The front desk is to your right. I can take your bags for you" she smiles. You notice the whole time she's looking at sukuna not acknowledging you.
"No we've got them." you say, continuing your way to the front desk.
As the two of you approach you notice the receptionist fidgeting in her seat, but still smiling as she notices the two of you. What's her problem you wonder to yourself.
"Hey were under Satoru" Sukuna says to the Woman. She pulls it up on her computer and smiles.
"Alright you booked the King bed suite, correct?" She asks smiling, looking at the two of you. You raise an eyebrow.
"King bed? I'm almost positive we booked a two bed" you protest, getting quite annoyed.
"Well it says here that originally it was booked as a two bed but someone called a few days later requesting to change it to a king bed. If that's a problem I can see if there are any two beds available." She says.
The only person you could think would do that is your friends getou, considering he has been pestering both you and sukuna about how you feel about each other. And you doubt Sukuna would make a big move like that. Sure he was a ladies man but he's definitely not the type to force that type of situation.
"I'd appreciate if you did that." You respond, looking over at sukuna who is leaning against the wall with his eyes shut. He was more then likely too tired to pay attention.
The receptionist sits there in silence for a few seconds before making a disappointed face. "unfortunately we don't have any available. I'm sorry about that." She says.
Just as you were about to respond Sukuna cuts in, "It's fine just give us the damn key." He says, You could tell by his tone he was getting frustrated just like you.
Quickly the woman nods her head, turning around and grabbing a key. Checking everything out, She hands it to Sukuna. "Room 4001 on the 40th floor, the elevator is to you left."
Sukuna nods his head and you mutter thank you before following him over to the elevator. You guys put your stuff on and you click the button for floor 40.
Once you get to your room, Sukuna opens the door and you cant but sigh in awe. It was huge. Walking in to your right a full kitchen and a small dining table, to your left was a full bathroom and a jacuzzi tub. Ahead was a living space with a tv on the left side of the wall and a couch across from it. There was a wall in the middle of the giant room, separating the bedroom and living room, in the bedroom was a king size bed and a tv mounted on the wall across from it.
You put your suit case down in the bedroom.
"Well i can sleep on the couch" Sukuna suggests, "or we can swap"
You ponder for a moment in awkward silence. Would it really be so bad to share a bed with the man you had a small crush on? I mean that's like a big step forward but it's not like you guys would do anything right?
"I'm sure it wouldn't kill us to share a bed for a few days. We're not gonna do anything so it doesn't matter" You say making him chuckle.
"I guess that's true. But I wouldn't mind doing something" He smirks. Yup Here he goes. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. Sukuna sets his suit case down on the right side of the bed. "If I'm being honest i think I'm gonna crash for a little bit, I'm exhausted."
"Yeah i think i might do the same." After a 14 and a half hour flight you could definitely use some sleep on an actual bed. You open your suitcase up, retrieving your laptop and setting it on the side table. Looking through your suitcase, you pull out a black tank top.
Sukuna takes his shirt off as well as his shoes and flops down onto the bed, laying on his stomach. You turn away and change out of your shirt, putting your tank top on and stripping out of your pants. You never were one to wear pants to bed and you weren't going to start now. And what could you say you weren't gonna miss out on an opportunity like this.
turning back around, Sukuna lets out a low whistle while looking up at you. Now he was laying on his side leaning on his elbow. "I don't wear pants to sleep i hope you don't mind" You say crawling into bed and under the covers.
"I do not mind at all sweetheart" he winks at you.
You roll your eyes, " good because i honestly didn't care" You laugh.
"well i hope you don't mind either because i don't sleep with pants on either." He says hoping up. You can't help but pay close attention as he unbuttons his belt and slides it off, following it with unzipping his pants and sliding them down his muscular thighs. This man was like a god. How the hell did you end up in bed with him.
You watch as his black pants fall down, revealing his grey boxers which looked tight and hugged his lower waist. not only that but hugged a thick cock. You could literally see the outline of it.
You turned the other way, facing away from him blushing like crazy. Perhaps your dreams should stay dreams. There was no way you would ever be able to take him. You could only imagine what he would look like hard. The thought made your toes curl and your pussy clench.
You feel Sukuna climb into the bed. He gets under the covers and you could feel that he was facing your back. You guys lay in silence for what seems to be forever before he breaks it.
"do you mind if i?" He says while putting arm around your waist, pulling you and him closer together, your back now pressed against his. You hoped he wouldn't turn you around because you were blushing like crazy.
Sighing and relaxing into his arms to reply, "this is fine" You feel Sukuna's breath against your neck and you move back a bit to get more comfortable, making it so your butt is against his dick.
Sukuna lets out a grunt before going silent again.
"sorry" you say hoping you didn't hurt him.
"you're fine" he says quickly. If Sukuna was being honest, as much as he wanted to he couldn't sleep. Not with your plump ass against his cock. The only thing blocking the two of you was your flimsy underwear and his boxers.
He couldn't help himself, bringing his hand that was round your waist down to grip your ass cheek making you inhale sharply. "Is this okay?" he questions, he knows he's pushing his limits but he couldn't help it. He knows he made it painfully obvious to you that he wanted more then friendship, at least he always thought he did. Especially with he excessive flirting at work and always trying to protect you on missions knowing you are fully capable of taking care of your self. So yeah Sukuna definitely wasn't going to let an opportunity like this slip through his fingers.
Sukuna's big hand gripped basically your whole butt cheek, moving it around and playing with it like it was a boob. You could feel him getting hard against you, poking your ass. You can't help but giggle.
"hm?" he questions. taking his hand away
"That tickles" You mutter. You turn around, facing him. He smirks down at you.
Sukuna leans towards you and places a small soft kiss on your forehead. With a sudden burst of confidence, You take your opportunity and push him on his back, climbing on top of him. He raises a eye brow but smirks at your little game.
You lean towards him going for his lips and as he leans towards you move your head to his neck, blowing a raspberry.
"ugh!" he shouts before flipping you over so the roles are reversed. He captures your hands into his left hand and hold them above your head. "you know you shouldn't start battles you can't finish" he chuckles before kissing you for real. His lips meet yours and you kiss him back, allowing him entrance into your mouth when his tongue brushed your lips.
As your tongues battle each other for dominance his right hand slips between your thighs. middle finger playing against the damp slit on your panties. He smiles into this kiss, sliding your panties to the side and running a finger lightly over your clit, making your body twitch into him at the contact. he runs his finger repeatedly over your sensitive bud, making you moan into his mouth.
Pulling his lips away from yours he looks into your e/c eyes as he slides his middle finger into your wet hole. You open your mouth letting out a small whine. Sukuna runs his thumb over your clit while fingering you, making you moan and lean into him, not able to do much with your hands bound.
"what a pretty girl" he smiles, giving you a small kiss. Your pussy clenches around his finger, you moan loudly knowing this was the end. You were gonna cum all over his fingers.
"sukuna!" you moan as your body shakes, pussy convulsing around sukuna's finger. you sigh as you try to get your breathing regulated again.
Sukuna pulls away and shakes his head, "I don't remember telling you to cum sweetheart." he says, looking at you disappointed.
"what" you question, raising an eyebrow at him.
"I've got a lot to teach obviously, and were only getting started." he lets out a dark chuckle before leaning over you.
The week you had ahead of yourself was sure going to be interesting.
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sirfrogsworth · 3 months
Text
Mom's Antiques Auction
I wasn't sure if I should post this or not, but we are trying to auction off a lot of my mom's antiques. This particular auction isn't being held at my house, so I figured it was safe to post here.
The auction will be live until 2/13/24 with a "soft close" starting at 7pm Central. That's when items will be sold a few at a time as people place their final bids. It's just like a live auction without a fast talking fella in a cowboy hat. If you try to bid at the last second, that extends the time by 60 seconds so someone else can try to outbid. It's actually kind of exciting to watch.
If you are in the St. Louis area, you can pick up items at the auction place the day after the auction ends. If you miss the pickup window you forfeit the item. Auction rules are no joke.
Otherwise, they can do shipping but I don't know if they do anything outside the US. You can check out the shipping info and call for more details.
This auction is actually for multiple estates. So not all of these items belonged to my mom. Her stuff is from Lot 406 to 660 and in the furniture section at the end from Lot 978 to 999. The link above should take you to the start of her collection (page 17).
There are some really cool uranium glass items—including this knife.
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I had no idea that was in the display cabinet. I might have kept it if I had known, but I'm hoping people will think it is super cool and it will go for a good price.
I know that website looks like it is from the 90s, but everything is legit. We already did one auction and it went very well and everyone got what they paid for.
On a personal note, it was surreal watching them remove everything that had surrounded me for all of my life. I know it was too much for me to maintain and take care of, but nearly every one of these antiques has a memory attached to it. Most of the items will go to the auction fandom—which I had no idea existed. Pro auction people sell to hobbyists. Big auctions turn into little auctions. It's like an auction feedback loop where each auction hobbyist thinks they can flip the item for a little more money. They even have little auction meetups to show off things they got for a steal because one auction person didn't know the value of something. It's quite competitive and they like telling auction stories (whether you are interested or not).
All that is to say, I know not everything is going to a home where someone will take over custodianship of the cool things my mom collected. But it would be neat if some folks outside the auction fandom got some of her precious wares.
Hopefully with the money raised I can restore my emergency fund, which lasted all of a month after the last auction due to a busted battery and leaky-ass tires. Also, there will probably be a few more auctions after this as my mom collected antiques for nearly 40 years.
Speaking of asses, this golfing piggy bank game does not work very well (I could never get the coin in the hole), but I only ever saw it displayed from the other side and never realize all the junk in that trunk.
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lilacsinjuly · 10 months
Text
clingy.
gojo satoru x reader
summary:
gojo can't stand when he's away from you and you're not here to help him out.
cw: not proof read!!!, gojo is VERY clingy & slightly obsessed w reader (who wouldn't be???), nsfw, fluff if you squint, smut, use of 'baby', fem reader, dry humping, nudes, degradation & humiliation, penetration, not much prep tbh, crying, teasing, choking, dom reader/ sub gojo.
word count: 1.8k
likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.
-`♡´-
Gojo can't handle being away from you. Not just because he misses your smile, your voice, making you laugh, watching movies with you or even just sitting in silence with you. Because yes, he does miss that stuff, but also because ever since being with you, no fist or toy could possibly get him off like you do.
Sure, if he tried, he definitely could get himself off. But, he refuses. Only you can make him feel good, and he is set on that fact.
The feeling of knowing that it's your hand. He's under your control. It stimulates him in a way no one else could because, simply enough, they weren't you. They didn't have your delicate hands yet harsh grip. They didn't have a voice like honey or skin like heaven.
So, when one of you are away for a mission, he’d call you every night, begging for you to help him. He's explained to you so many times how much he struggles to be away from you during times like this, yet you never quite understand him.
However, on this date specifically, you had made plans with your friends to go to a restaurant and catch up. You had only planned to stay out for a few hours and stupidly thought Gojo would be fine by himself.
1 new notification. 2 new notifications. 5 new notifications. 11 new notificati-
"Hey do you wanna get that? It seems important." one of your friends said, as you scrambled to silence your phone.
"It's fine, it's just Satoru. He's probably wondering what he's supposed to eat tonight or something. He can wait a few hours."
Attachment: 3 images.
You didn't think much of it, often he would send you photos of his face along with a message similar to "look at what you're missing babe???"
What you didn't expect, was a picture of a very prominent bulge in his sweatpants, his hand palming it. The two after that, showed his hardened cock in his hand, precum dripping down it as his thumb ran over his swollen tip.
You immediately turned your phone off and looked to the side of you to check your friend hadn't seen the image. Luckily, she was immersed in a conversation with your friends sitting opposite you.
You took a shaky deep breath, and reopened your phone to check what the other eleven messages were.
"babyyyy:(( wya?? i'm so lonely" "fuckfuckfuck just saw the vid you took of us last night baby. come home." and then several other messages along the lines of him begging you to answer him, and all the stuff he wanted to do to you. Of course, by the looks of things and how pissed you were at him spamming you messages like this, you'd be doing most of the controlling tonight.
Incoming call from Toru<3
Your friends looked at you with concern. Your shaky breaths were doing nothing to help portray a collected composure. “Sorry- I'm just gonna take this real quick." Each of them gave you an understanding look as you walked out to the back, where no one could see or hear you before you answered his call.
"Gojo, I am so unbelievably pissed off at you right now, don't even try to pretend you have no clue where I am 'cause you know damn well it's right there in the fucking calendar."
Heavy panting and strained whines was the only response you got for a solid five seconds before he replied with desperate moans and pleas.
“I can’t- I just can't on my own! It's not enough, I need you pleaseee-“
"'Toru, I'm out with my friends! I'll be home in like three hours, can't you just wait--"
"Three hours?!" he gasped dramatically. To anyone else, they would have thought he was bleeding out from his whines, cries and the way he was pleading you to leave like his life depended on it.
"Yes, Satoru, three hours." you looked around, seeing if there was anyone listening in nearby before continuing. "Satoru, you can either wait three hours like a good boy, and I'll let you come when I come home. Or, you can continue calling me whilst I'm out with my friends and I won't let you come for a week. Fuck that, i wont even fucking touch you for a week. Now, which is it, Gojo?"
With the combination of you using his last name and your terrifying threat, his eyes widened as he mumbled out a quick apology and immediately hung up. He craved you from a distance yet waited excitedly in anticipation for the night’s upcoming events.
Whilst you knew your threat was harsh, you also knew it was a completely empty one. Because, despite your annoyed tone, hearing Gojo whine on the other side of the phone had you pressing your legs together and biting your lip. Not even you could spend an entire week without touching him once.
However, it did the trick. For the entirety of the time you spend out with your friends, you didn't receive a single notification with his name on it (you just know he's saved at least twenty videos so he can show them to you whilst you're cuddling later). It was as if he's erased himself completely or destroyed his phone just to secure being able to feel you against him later.
Exactly three hours after your call, he waited patiently on the sofa, his leg bouncing up and down eagerly. He glanced at the clock maybe seven or eight times before he heard your keys in the door.
As you walked in, you barely had time to take off your coat and hang it up before Satoru's lips were on yours with a fervent intensity. His hands clung to your body desperately, attempting pathetically to get your clothes off before you pushed him onto the sofa.
"Patience, Satoru. You were being so naughty earlier." he looked up at you with wide eyes.
"But I didn't message or call you once!" he pleaded.
Gently, you cupped his face in your palm, running your thumb along his cheek. "I know, baby." you mocked.
Suddenly, Gojo grabbed you by the waist, pulling you on top of him. "You told me- hahh- I could- c-cum" he muttered, grinding his clothed dick against you helplessly. Your hand reached behind his head as you grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging hardly.
"Fuck- why would I let you cum after pulling shit like this, huh? Shit-" you moaned at the feeling of him rutting against you.
"Cause I'm, fuuckk, not letting you go-" he mumbled into your shoulder as he continued to thrust himself against you.
"Wouldn't you rather come inside me, baby? Hmm? You look fucking pathetic right now," you laughed, tauntingly. "Seriously, aren't you embarrassed, Gojo? Humping me like a fucking dog. You've got no control over this pathetic dick, do you? You're just some slut desperate for attention."
He stopped moving at your degrading words as he buried himself in your shoulder. You smiled at your victory, as you commanded him to lay back on the sofa and take his clothes off. You did the same, as you straddled his lap whilst he looked up at you in awe.
"Pleasepleaseplease- I've needed this all fucking day." he begged, tears welling up in his eyes as he bucked his hips up into your own.
You grabbed his dick carefully, stroking it slowly and rubbing the tip with your thumb. He moaned at the feeling of your hands, begging you without shame just to put it in and fuck him like he deserves.
However, your malicious teasing never relented, as you continued to give him very light touches, and very occasionally a small lick from between his legs.
He lay in front of you, heaving breathlessly as his mindless babbles grew into ridiculous moans and incoherent begs. His hair was splayed over his forehead and stuck to him because of the sweat, but never had you seen a more beautiful display as his chest rose up and down. His lips were closed in a slight pout, and his eyes were half shut from the constant edging, his arm covering them slightly.
However, his eyes immediately flew open and his hand grabbed desperately onto the sofa when you shifted your position to directly above his dick.
You sink down slowly, the pain fading loosely into pleasure over time. You moved your hips up and down slowly, as he gripped tightly onto your waist, urging you to go faster when you could.
Soon, you were bouncing on him relentlessly as his moans and whines intertwined with your own like your fingers which slid up his body to weave into his.
You leaned down, taking his lips into a passionate kiss, silencing the sounds of his thoughtless moans.
His mind was blank with pleasure, the only image was your pussy sliding up and down his dick. He untangled your hands as he ran them up your body and towards your breasts, grabbing and flicking your nipples - trying to make you feel even a fraction of the heaven he was experiencing.
One of his hands trailed down towards your pussy as he began to rub your clit. You gasped at the feeling, one of your hands flying straight to his throat as you squeezed tightly.
Before realising what you had done, you felt Satoru cum immediately inside of you, both his hands moving to grab onto your thighs as he reached his high.
As he lay beneath you, panting, you tilted your head at him curiously with a slight smirk on your lips which screamed "oh?". His face flushed with embarrassment. One, at the fact he had just came without you, and two at the fact that all it took was for you to choke him just a little bit for him to come immediately.
Before you had realised he liked your hands around his neck, you had retracted them, placing them on his chest. You grinned deviously as your hands began to slide up his body, a finger stopping to tilt his chin up so he was making direct eye contact with you, before continuing to wrap your hand around his neck. He groaned lowly at the connection, yet the sharp feeling of being overstimulated took over as you lifted your lips up before slamming them down ruthlessly.
He threw his head back and whined loudly, bucking his hips up into yours. "Cant take it anymore-- fuuuckkk!"
"Hmm? But you were the one who asked me if you could come? I'm giving you what you want, aren't I? Stupid, spoiled brat." you continued to move your hips up and down his cock, knowing if he really wanted you to stop, he'd say the safe word. "Plus, I haven't come yet. You're not gonna be a selfish brat too, are you? Don't you wanna make me come?"
He nodded his head incessantly. "Wanna make you come too..." he panted out breathlessly, bucking his hips up into you and moving his hand back down to your clit.
You continued like that for what felt like hours. He wasn't sure how many times he came, yet one thing was certain, and that was no matter how many hours you spent fucking him so roughly, he still hadn't had enough of your touch as you lay in bed during the dark hours of the night with his head by your chest as he showed you all the funny videos he couldn't send you earlier.
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adhdslugcrimes · 2 months
Text
Dick: Danny, Jazz, sit down we have things to discuss.
Danny, sitting with his new siblings looking at him with those same studying eyes his bios gave him: I don't think I'm going to like this…
Jazz: I'm not afraid to do what I did to our parents if you try anything.
Dick: it's fine I promise, listen I have this streak I love and cherish as much as I do with my mother and father's things, it brings me tremendous joy… and that's the last time I ask Jason to write me a speech, listen kiddos, as your big brother I have this thing for training you to be chaotic little shits, okay? If I don't see another dye box in Bruce's trash what's my purpose in life?
Danny: but… Bruce is really nice to us?
Jazz: Danny, he's doing the bare minimum, we talked about this.
Dick: yeah he's nice and all, and I love him because if I didn't I wouldn't be here anymore for all the things he put me through, but he doesn't get a break and that disappointed tired look is my drug, I have made his biological starfish son more chaotic than any chaotic god that exists, let me mold you to the perfect duo, help your poor old big brother out, please.
Jason: we also get extra cookies the most we disappoint B, Alfred loves this stuff.
Jazz: I'm in.
Danny: really? For a cookie?
Jazz: yes.
Danny: well… would be fun to prank people again, I've missed it… sure.
Dick, pulling out a big book: great, let's get to work, the Gala is happening next month we only have three weeks to train, don't worry with Tim I only had four days we can make this happen.
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