#I had to stop here because time-issues but you can imagine they had a nice day at the sea of clouds!
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avirael · 3 months ago
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FFxivWrite 2024
Day 10 - Stable
Rael’s morning had started pretty normal, or as normal as it had gotten since the four of them had moved to Ishgard. Apart from the servants Rael usually was the first person in the house to be awake, so when they went downstairs and passed the dining room to get to Lord Fortemps personal library, there were only a few other people around yet doing their daily works.
One of the maids, who by now seemed to have remembered Rael’s habit of getting up quite early, greeted them friendly.
“Good Morning, Master Rael! The cook should have your breakfast finished in a moment…”
After the bathing (and dressing) incident on their first day here, a few of them had tried to call them Mistress Rael for a few days but the Viera had quickly tried to stop them from doing so. After demanding to just call them Rael and a few exasperated questions of “What else should we call you then, my lady” (somehow that was even worse!), they had reluctantly decided to call them Master Rael instead and Rael had simply rolled their eyes and accepted their fate.
Apart from such difficulties everybody was extremely friendly and accommodating though. Rael had insisted they didn’t need any special treatment and could absolutely wait until everybody else was awake too to have their breakfast but nonetheless the servants had developed a habit of preparing it early for them anyway.
“Thank you very much.”, they replied with a nod. “I will get some books from the library and then come to the dining room.”
“As you wish.”, the woman answered with a short bow and hurried away. Rael would never get used to having servants around but had long stopped questioning why this seemed to be normal here in Ishgard.
As announced they went to the library and fetched two books that had caught their interest a few days ago before returning for breakfast.
The first few days here in Ishgard Rael had usually left the house very early, at least if the weather allowed it, and wandered the still silent city looking for a place that felt… familiar. A place to recharge, to rest, to meditate. But it had proven difficult, so they had simply stopped trying after a while.
Breakfast turned out not to be a horrible alternativ though. Of course the Ishgardians exaggerated even that immensely in amount and effort but this was fixable by speaking to the cook fortunately. So Rael didn’t get any fancy dishes with luxurious ingredients and heavy sauces unless they ate with everybody else for once.
A clear soup (against the cold the servants insisted), some fruits and a slice of bread were more than enough for such an early hour.
All of that was accompanied by a cup of tea, although here in Ishgard they had quite different habits of making tea it seemed. It was mostly milk, yak milk as Rael was told, in which some dried tea leaves simmered for a while. The first time Rael was served this it was quite unusual and also horribly sweet due to the maple sugar the servant added to it but without the insane amount of sugar it was drinkable. Still a little thin due to being mostly milk but nonetheless tasty.
They had barely started eating, while browsing through one of the books, when hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway. Confused Rael looked up as A’viloh appeared in the doorframe with a grin on his face.
“There you are! I was afraid you left already!”, he exclaimed.
Rael wrinkled their brow, looked to the clock and back to A’viloh. It was way to early for him to be awake already and especially so joyful about it.
“Don’t look at me as if you’ve seen a ghost! Yes I’m awake already! It’s a wonderful day, isn’t it?”, he beamed and sat down beside them stealing a rolanberry from their plate.
“Someone’s in a good mood, huh?”, Rael observed while still trying to focus on the text they were reading. Not that they disliked the fact but it was strange. Then their conversation from the last evening returned to their mind and their reading was instantly forgotten. Closely they squinted at A’viloh observing every little movement on his face…
“What?”, he asked, still grinning. Suspicious…
Dismissively Rael shook their head and returned their attention to the breakfast before casually saying, “I assume you had a nice evening?”
“I did, yes…”, he replied before he realised the tone in the Viera’s voice. “Wait! No!!”, he blurted out and blushed a little, “I mean it was a nice evening but not whatever you mean!”
Even the maid chuckled and Rael was pretty sure that A’viloh was the only one unaware about the rumours everyone kept repeating behind his back. For some reason Rael preferred these over people mistaking A’vi and them for a couple…
“Really? Why the sudden good mood then? Not that I’m objecting…”
“I have a plan! I got up extra early so I would catch you before you run of to the astrologian’s guild or elsewhere.”, the Miqo’te explained while stealing yet another piece of fruit from Rael’s plate. “But you will have to put your boring books down for a while…”
“A plan?”, Rael repeated unimpressed. “For what?”
“You will see soon enough!”, A’viloh grinned. “Alright, put that book away. You can eat the rest of your breakfast on the way!”
“On the way to where?”
But he ignored them and instead turned to the maid. “Is it possible I can get one of these sandwiches too?”
She was already halfway out of the door when he jumped up and yelled, “No, wait! Don’t worry, I’ll go myself! There’s something else I need!”
Just as fast as he had appeared he was gone again, only stopping at the door one last time to look back at Rael.
“Hurry up! We’ll meet in a quarter bell in front of the house!”
Confused the Viera kept staring at the now empty doorframe before turning their still quizzical gaze to the housemaid, who just shrugged too.
***
Rael had only quickly finished their breakfast and went to their room to fetch their bag and grimoire, before heading outside as they were told to. Just as they opened the front door A’viloh hurried out of the corridor that led to the kitchen, throwing a bag over his shoulder and stuffing a sandwich into his mouth.
“Good, you’re ready! Follow me!”, he commanded between bites and began to walk without giving any clue where they were going.
For a while they just walked in silence. About one thing so far A’viloh had been right. By Ishgardian standards the weather was really nice. The sun had just risen and now shone from a cloudless blue sky, the morning air was still crisp but maybe it would be a little warmer today than usually. Their path led down the roads and staircases to the lower parts of the city where they crossed Saint Reinette’s Forum and finally passed the Skysteel Manufactury.
By then Rael realised they could only be headed for the Chocobo stables, or the Holy Stables as the Ishgardians called it. Rael had never understood why they needed to add the word holy to all and everything. Well, they had understood but found it completely ridiculous! It was just a normal stable like any other, maybe the birds there were a little more special but there still wasn’t anything divine about it!
“The stables?”, Rael asked, wondering if this was everything A’viloh had been so secretive about.
“Yes! You need to see the Chocobo!”, he answered excitedly. “But that’s not everything… First things first, though! Come on!”
Impatiently he waved for Rael to follow as he showed one of the caretaker a piece of paper he pulled from his jacket. With a short bow he let the two pass and left to get the chocobo.
A moment they waited before the man returned followed by a tall dark-feathered bird in Ishgardian barding. He handed the reigns to A’viloh and left again, going back to his work, while A’viloh happily greeted the bird who chirped at him in return.
“Isn’t she pretty?”, he asked proudly. “I still can’t believe Haurchefant gifted me a chocobo! He said her name is Chloé but that I might change it if I want to. But I kinda like it…”
Admittedly Rael didn’t understand much about chocobo breeding but to them it looked like an especially beautiful bird, with shining black feathers and attentively sparkling eyes.
“Indeed a very pretty bird.”
“Did you hear that, Chloé?”, A’viloh addressed the bird cheerfully and ruffled the feathers at the side of her neck. “Rael thinks you’re pretty too!”
As if she understood, the bird fluttered excitedly and turned her head towards the Miqo’te so he could pet it some more. Then the Chocobo kwehed and turned her curious eyes to Rael who in return stepped closer and scratched her beak.
“Haurchefant said she can fly too.”, A’viloh said. “I haven’t tried yet… Would you like to?”
“Me?”, Rael asked, although the idea of a chocobo that could fly seemed interesting. “It’s your chocobo.”
“That doesn’t seem fair. She could be our chocobo!”, A’viloh offered. “I’m not sure if she could carry both of us at once though…”
“She is quite tall, so maybe she could…”, Rael mused. “But this was your gift A’vi. It is a kind offer but I am not sure if it would be alright to accept it.”
A’viloh shook his head.
“Haurchefant surely doesn’t mind. He gave me the idea for this trip after all!”
“Trip?”, Rael asked confused.
“Oh yes! And we should go or we will miss the airship!”, A’viloh explained. “We will spent the day at Camp Cloudtop. I mean, if you want to, of course. But I thought it would cheer you up since you liked that place…”
“I do…”, Rael was a little speechless about the fact that A’viloh seriously seemed to have put thought into a plan to cheer them up.
A’viloh beamed and held up his bag. “I even brought food! We can have lunch at a nice spot like the one we found last time. You can collect some more flowers or herbs or whatever and we can see if Chloé can really fly!”
As happily as not in a long time Rael smiled and was grateful for having such a kind friend.
“Thank you A’vi, that sounds like a wonderful idea…”
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incognit0slut · 3 months ago
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Crawling back to you
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Simmons!Reader Summary: You never planned on having a casual fling with your brother's friend five years ago, nor did you expect him to fall in love with you, which forced you to end things abruptly. But now he's unexpectedly back in your life—older, wiser, and fully intent on winning your heart. Content: (18+) >12k words, reader has commitment issues, he’s the softest softdom i’ve ever written, female oral, fingering, unprotected p in v, a little squirting? teeth rotting fluff and a chaotic ending because who am i without my crack humor A/n: This is for @imagining-in-the-margins FWB writing challenge and somewhat a celebration post for 7k milestone. Idk how that happened but tysm :( I hope you like this as much as I did writing it because matt simmons is so underrated??? I’m also freaking nervous with this i haven’t posted a new fic in a while so please please please be nice i feel like throwing up
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Surprise has a way of stopping time. Although you're not sure you can call it that. What you’re experiencing is more than just surprise, it’s the kind of feeling that makes you freeze in place. It’s not just a jolt to the system—it’s a full-body takeover. Your breath catches, your heart skips, and your thoughts scatter like leaves caught in the wind. How could they not, when the last person you expected to see is standing right in front of you, clad in the most questionable clothes?
You almost laugh at how absurd he looks. He’s wearing an oversized hoodie with a tacky “Washington D.C.” print sprawled across the front. It’s baffling why he’s draped in that shapeless thing over his freakishly tall frame, but it’s too hard to focus on something so trivial when you’re still grasping with the reality of seeing him again. You really can’t believe it. Spencer Reid is here. The Spencer Reid.
The guy whose heart you broke five years ago.
You should have seen this coming. In fact, you kind of did, when your brother’s friends came rushing into the hospital room, their voices a chorus of “oohs” and “aahs” as they crowded around the newborn cradled in Kristy’s arms. You exchanged polite greetings when they noticed you—Penelope even pulled you into a tight hug, gushing about how amazing you looked—and thankfully, there was no sign of him.
But you’d almost allowed yourself to believe he wouldn’t show up. When the small space became overly crowded, you stepped out into the waiting room to catch your breath… only to find him standing a few feet away with JJ.
And just like that, all the air seems to vanish from your lungs.
You had a plan, of course. In the back of your mind, you always knew a chance meeting was inevitable, whether you liked it or not. And that plan was simple. You’d offer him a polite smile. Exchange a few words, nothing too personal. You’d be friendly but distant, always make sure to keep the kind of composure that says you’ve moved on, and that the past is just that: the past.
But those well-laid plans seem fragile now, almost naive as you suddenly caught his smile. Now how do you stick to a script when your heart is starting to rewrite all the lines? Or blur the lines specifically, when the past and present merge so seamlessly that you’re reminded of the first time that same smile had charmed you.
You’re suddenly thrown back to that day five years ago, when your brother had thrown a barbecue cookout to celebrate some joint investigation his team had wrapped up. You didn’t know the details—didn’t really care to, if you were honest—but Matt had called you and insisted that you join him.
You hadn't thought much of it at the time. It sounded like another family gathering with a few new faces. But that was the day you met Spencer, and what began as a simple introduction quickly spiraled into something much more complicated. Really complicated. Because as charmed as you were by his smile, he had wanted something more from you when all you could offer him was your body.
So you ran away.
Although not very far, because apparently, he’s standing a few steps away from you, five years later. And the worst part? He’s now very much aware that you’re here. You watch as his jaw slacks open as he takes a double-take. You’re rooted in place. JJ, on the other hand, tugs his sleeve as she notices his demeanor slowly shutting down. She turns around to see what’s caught his attention, and when she spots you, a huge smile spreads across her face.
"Hey! You're here!” You force yourself to look away from him as she moves forward. You reciprocate the hug she throws at you. "How are you?”
You’re not entirely sure how to answer. How do you even explain that your heart just did a triple backflip and landed somewhere near your stomach? Or that you’re seconds away from having an internal existential crisis because, of course, the universe would choose this moment to throw Spencer Reid back into your life?
There's really no good way to sum that up. So instead, you plaster on a smile that probably looks more like a grimace and reply, "Good. I’m good.”
JJ doesn’t seem to notice the strained edges in your voice. “It’s so nice to see you again! How long has it been?”
There’s a moment of silence as you try to gather your thoughts. But before you can respond, Spencer’s voice suddenly cuts through the quiet. It’s soft, almost hesitant, as if he’s been holding onto this detail for far too long, but every syllable rings in your ears.
"Five years," he says. "Five years, three months, and seventeen days."
Your stomach does another flip. JJ raises her brows, her eyes darting between you and him. You carefully meet her gaze. "Actually, you and I met up last year.”
“Oh, right!” She exclaims, her face lighting up as the memory clicks into place. “You were in town for a conference, right? I totally forgot about that.”
“You were in town last year and you didn’t tell me?”
God, he’s making it terribly hard for you to keep your composure. You throw him a sidelong glance. “I didn’t know you wanted to see me.”
His expression shifts slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. He looks at you as if your words sounds ludicrous to him.
“I always want to see you.”
You can't decide what surprises you more, the fact that he still wants to see you after all these years, or how easily he says it. The words roll off his tongue so casually, so effortlessly, as if the weight of your shared past doesn’t cling to them. And to make matters worse, he's saying this right in front of JJ, who is now staring at him, clearly scrutinizing the significance behind his words.
You quickly shift your attention to her, forcing another smile. "So, are you going to head inside?"
JJ blinks at you. “Oh, yeah, I probably should.” She turns to Spencer and gives him a quick but knowing glance. "See you on Monday, Spence."
You glance at him. “You're not going to see the baby?"
"Spencer’s got something he needs to take care of,” JJ chimes in. There’s a slight edge to her voice, like she knows exactly what that ‘something’ is, but she doesn’t elaborate. She gives him one last look before heading inside.
You catch yourself looking up at him again. “You’re leaving?”
Spencer pauses, studying you carefully, his brow furrowing just slightly like he’s trying to read between the lines of your question.
“I was,” he says softly.
There’s a sudden tightness in your chest. “Right.”
“But now I don’t want to.”
There it goes again, the butterflies in your stomach. This is exactly why you didn’t want to see him. You knew that once you looked into his eyes, heard his voice, it would stir up everything you’ve spent five years trying to bury. You’d told yourself it was better to pretend that whatever happened between you was nothing more than a stupid choice. But now, standing here with him so close, you can feel all those walls you built crumbling down with just a few words.
You finally look at him, like really look at him. It’s impossible not to notice how he’s changed over the past five years. There are faint lines around his eyes now, signs of age that wasn't there before. His hair is longer, a little messier. It curls around his ears in a way that makes him look almost boyish, yet undeniably charming which suits him more than you'd like to admit.
But even with all the changes, his smile—gentle and just a little shy—remains the same. That smile reminds you of a time when things were simpler, where it was enough to convince you that you didn't have to keep your guard up all the time. But then you remember the reason you walked away, and his smile becomes a little harder to look at.
Because while he's changed, grown, matured, so have you, and you're not sure if there's room for the person you are now in the space that once belonged to both of you.
His eyes scan you in the same way you’re assessing him. “You look good.”
Your mouth twitches at his words. You didn’t expect him to be so straightforward. “Thank you.”
“You’re even prettier than I remember.”
The sigh you let out is long and weary. He really knows how to push your buttons.
“Spencer. Don’t.”
“What?”
“You can’t just say things like that after—” You hesitate, crossing your arms. "After everything. What happened to 'Hi, how are you?’. Or maybe something simple like ‘What have you been up to? Anything new?’”
He blinks, clearly taken aback by your abruptness. “Okay. Hi, how are you?”
You cast him a wary glance. “Good.”
"What have you been up to?"
"Work."
"Anything new?"
"No."
He pauses again, his eyes searching yours before he asks, "No new boyfriend?"
You frown. “Huh?”
“Girlfriend?”
"Spencer."
"Are you seeing anyone?"
"Spencer."
He smiles sheepishly, his shoulders sagging slightly. "You're right, that was inappropriate. I didn't think I would see you again, it’s throwing me off a bit."
“You didn’t think I would be here for my newborn niece?”
His smile turns into a grimace. "I guess I wasn't thinking clearly." He shifts on his feet, fidgeting with his fingers—a small, familiar tic that you hadn’t seen in years. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things weird.”
“It’s fine,” you reply, though there’s no real bite to your words. His nervous energy is making it hard to stay annoyed. Your eyes narrow on his oversized hoodie again, the casual, almost careless choice that seems slightly out of character for the Spencer you remember.
He seems to notice you staring so blatantly. “What?”
“You look funny.”
A hint of surprise flashes across his face. “You think I’m funny?”
“Different,” you correct. “Did you raid someone’s closet on your way here or something?”
"Oh… I had to change my clothes. I got wet at the park earlier.”
You glance towards the window with a frown. "It's not even raining."
"I ran through the sprinklers."
The cease on your forehead deepens. Even that sounds so unlike him. Spencer Reid doing something that carefree in public?
“You ran through the sprinklers? Alone?"
You notice his expression shift as the question leaves your lips, something very subtle, but you’ve known him long enough to catch it. The way his eyes flicker, the slight hesitation before he answers, makes it obvious. There’s a hint of something unspoken in the way he looks at you, and suddenly, it all clicks into place.
He wasn’t alone.
You look away. It's ridiculous, you think. To feel this somewhat… jealous when it should be the last thing on your mind because, really, what right do you have? What you had with him wasn’t even a relationship to begin with. But despite all the logic in the world, you can’t help the pang in your chest, the twist of something bitter and familiar curling in your gut.
"It's not what you think," he slowly says.
You force a small, awkward laugh, trying to brush it off. "I wasn’t assuming anything. It’s none of my business, anyway."
"No, really, it's nothing like that." he insists, scrunching his nose in the way he does when he's trying to think. "I mean, I did meet someone at the park, but it’s not like… what you might be thinking. We were just talking, and… and then there were these sprinklers and it wasn’t really planned or anything, then she—well, technically, we weren’t even alone the whole time because there were other people around, and it’s not like we—”
“Spencer, you don’t have to explain—” you begin, but then something dawns on you. “Wait, is this what JJ was referring to? Did you… Did you have plans?”
You notice his Adam’s apple dip as he swallows. "Kind of," he admits. “But it wasn't anything serious. It was just, you know, a casual thing.”
You can't help the way your stomach knots. Casual could mean anything. Maybe a simple coffee between two friends, or even a lighthearted conversation over lunch. But in your experience, at least in the book you and Spencer had written together in the past, casual had always meant sex. And now, hearing him say it about someone else feels like a punch to the gut you hadn't expected.
You suddenly feel foolish for letting your mind go there, for assuming that whatever he meant by casual was the same thing it had meant for the two of you back then. It's been five years, and so much has changed. Maybe casual means something entirely different for him now, and you're the one stuck in the past, reading into things that no longer hold the same weight.
He must have noticed the slight falter in your expression, the way your eyes momentarily cloud over with something you can’t quite hide. He takes a step forward. "It’s really nothing.”
You take a step back. “Even if it is, it’s really not my business.”
“But it’s not,” he urges. He’s suddenly so persistent, and you can’t help but feel the embarrassment gnawing you at how easily he can read your mind. It's one thing to wrestle with these feelings privately, but having them so clearly acknowledged makes it all the more humiliating. You can��t believe you let yourself get so worked up over something that shouldn’t matter this much.
You eye the exit door. “I need to go.”
"Right now?” His brows knit together in confusion. “But your family’s here."
You’ve only spent a few minutes with him and you’re already running away.
"I just remembered I have to take care of… something."
The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, but you don’t wait for his response. You quickly turn on your heel, and when he calls out your name with concern, you force yourself to keep moving, scurrying off down the hallway.
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Me: I'm heading back first Big bro: You okay? Me: Bad headache Big Bro: You didn't eat anything, did you?
You scoff. What is it about your brother always zeroing in on eating whenever you complain about feeling off?
Me: You know I did. Just not much Big Bro: That’s what I thought. There’s some leftover dinner in the fridge. And check the second drawer in the kitchen, there should be some ibuprofen Me: Yes, Dad Big Bro: Don’t get smart with me Me: 🫡 Big Bro: Drink lots of water Me: Yes, sir. Anything else on your mind while you’re giving out parental advice? Big Bro: I’m just trying to keep myself from dragging you out of my house if you collapse Me: 🙄 Big Bro: The kids are staying with Kristy’s parents, I’ll drop by tomorrow morning Me: Okay Big Bro: Call me if you need anything
You toss your phone down on the bed, then let out the most exasperated sigh. Spending your Saturday night in your brother’s guest room is the last thing you expect to be doing, let alone faking a headache just to avoid confronting a situationship from the past. You honestly thought you’d outgrown this kind of avoidance, but here you are, slipping back into old habits as if no time has passed at all.
Ironically, your mind stumbles into the past, and you remember a conversation you once had with Spencer. It was during one of those nights when you both were tangled in each other’s arms. You could faintly remember the conversation started with him talking about his work.
He never actually told you the details of his cases, but he liked to share his thoughts on the different complexities of the human mind. And on that particular night, he was rambling about the psychological concept of avoidance, which he claimed to have detected the first time he spotted the bad guy. He went on at how people often retreat into familiar behaviors to protect themselves from discomfort.
At the time, you had brushed it off with a joke, teasing him about overanalyzing everything when the situation had already played out. But now the irony isn’t lost on you. You’re doing exactly what he once explained. It’s almost laughable if it didn’t sting so much to realize how right he was.
A sharp ding from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts, and one glance at it tells you exactly who’s messaging. The name on the screen makes your chest tighten, but you don’t even give yourself a moment to consider responding. You quickly turn the phone to silent, push yourself off the bed, and head straight for the kitchen. True to your brother’s words, there’s leftover pizza in the fridge, but the idea of reheating it doesn’t seem appealing to you.
You reach for the bottle of wine instead.
The red liquor tastes like butter, or something close to it. It’s similar in the way the liquid melts over your tongue, spreading warmth through your chest and settling comfortably in your belly. By the time you're sipping the second glass, you feel more relaxed, but then the sharp sound of the doorbell ringing cuts through the calm.
You glance at the door from the position of the couch. You have a strong feeling about who it is. But as much as you're sure of the who, what really gnaws at you is the why.
You hesitantly make your way toward the door, and sure enough, when you pull it open, Spencer is standing at your brother’s doorstep. The corner of his lips turns upward in an awkward, almost apologetic half-smile as if he’s unsure of how to begin or whether he should even be there in the first place.
You lean against the doorframe. “Did Matt tell you I was here?”
He gives you a pointed look, his eyebrows raising slightly. “No, but it wasn’t hard to figure out.” You throw him the same questioning look, and he explains, “This is the only place you’d stay in town because not only do you hate staying alone at a hotel, but Matt wouldn’t let you even if you tried.”
You can’t believe he still remembers your offhand comment about sterile hotel rooms. It’s one of the reasons you used to prefer staying at his apartment whenever you were in town.
“Why are you here anyway?” You ask. “I thought you had plans.”
He pauses for moment as if deciding how much to say. Finally, he clears his throat. “Can I come in? I’d rather explain it inside.”
"I don't think you owe me any explanations about what you do with your time," you reply, crossing your arms.
"Maybe I don't owe it, but I want to give it.”
“Which isn’t necessary.”
“But appreciated, I hope.”
You find yourself caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. You tell yourself not to read too much into it, but there's a part of you that can't help but soften at his words. Maybe it's the way his eyes reminds you of melted chocolate as he stares at you that makes you want to let him in, despite your better judgment.
You pull the door open. “Fine, but take your shoes off. Kristy’s very serious about hygiene.”
He does as he’s told and tucks away his shoes on the rack by the door.
“Do you want anything to drink?”
He shakes his head slightly, offering a small smile. "I'm good, thanks."
You nod and gesture toward the living room. He follows you, and as you both approach the couch, he instinctively moves to the far end, settling down cautiously as if not wanting to invade your space. You take a seat on the opposite end.
“So, what do you want to talk about?”
He leans back slightly, resting his hands on his knees. You can tell he's trying to gauge your mood, figure out how much to push and when to hold back. "Do you remember when we went on that date at the street fair?"
You frown, remembering how you had missed your bus home in one of your trips here and ended up wandering at the fair with him. “That wasn’t a date.”
"Fine. Do you remember when we went to the street fair together not on a date?"
“I remember."
His shoulders relax a bit at your response. “You spent ages deciding what to eat and you ended up choosing that little Korean stall in the corner. We had to walk a bit further to get there even when your shoes were hurting you.”
You think back, internally scolding yourself for wearing those damn boots that day. “You thought I was being ridiculous.”
"I didn't think it was ridiculous. I just didn't get it at first. Your feet were practically covered in blisters."
"I really wanted kimchi."
"I could tell, and it took me a while to understand why you went through all that trouble. Now I do.”
You glance at him, sensing there's more behind his words. “Why are you bringing this up?"
He meets your gaze. His brown eyes looking a little more golden underneath the dim light. "I guess this is me choosing.”
“That you’re craving for Korean?”
He gives a soft, genuine laugh, the kind that starts in his chest and reaches his eyes, making them crinkle at the corners. “Not exactly,” he says and leans a little closer. “What I’m trying to say is, that’s how I feel right now. I'm here because I want to be, not because it's convenient, but because it’s you.”
There’s a subtle flutter in your chest, and your skin prickles with a familiar warmth as he speaks. Your heart beats a little faster, not enough to be alarming, but just enough to remind you that you’re not as unaffected as you pretend to be. You can feel your palms start to sweat, and there’s that almost imperceptible hitch in your breathing that you hope he doesn’t notice.
“Spencer…” You don’t even know how to start. “It’s been five years."
He nods slowly. “I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do. A lot of has changed since the last time we saw each another, and you’re here acting like we both separated on good terms? Don't you hate me?”
His brow furrows slightly. “Why would I hate you?”
“Because I broke your heart. I—" Your voice falters as you struggle to find the right words. "The moment you told me you were falling in love with me, I... I ran. I couldn’t handle it. I pushed you away like a coward.”
“You weren't a coward, you were scared. And maybe I didn’t understand that back then, but I do now.”
You shake your head. “But I hurt you.”
The sigh he lets out is heavy, yet there's something deceptively calm about it, almost as if he’s already made peace with the past. “You did what you thought you had to do, and sure, it hurt. But I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and I realized that I don’t blame you for needing space. It wasn’t about me not being enough, it was about you needing to protect yourself.”
His words start to chip away at the wall you’ve built around your heart. “I thought you’d hate me,” you admit quietly.
“I could never hate you."
You lower your gaze, your fingers fiddling nervously with the edge of the cushion. “Alright, let’s say you choose me. Now what? What is it that you want?”
He pauses for a moment, his fingers curled into his palms. He looks away briefly, taking a deep breath as if gathering his thoughts, then returns his gaze to you. “I want another chance.”
If you were surprised to see him at the hospital earlier, this is something entirely different. There’s something akin to panic fluttering in your chest. It’s amusing, really, how the human body reacts before the mind fully comprehends as if your heart knows what’s coming before you do. You can feel it in the way your breath catches, in the way your stomach knots with a nervous energy you can’t quite shake. Because how do you even react to that?
You finally turn to face him, leaning your head against the back of the couch. This moment feels like some sort of déjà vu, and just like the last time, your mind is already bracing itself, preparing to give him the same answer you did back then.
“You know it’s never going to work.”
He mirrors you, but instead of the frustration or sadness you half-expected, there’s a gentle smile on his lips. “You sound so sure.”
“That’s because I am,” you reply. “I know what you’re asking for right now, and we don’t function like that. Not in the past, at least.”
“How did we function?”
“Based on sex.”
“And what do you think I’m asking for now?”
“More than sex, which isn’t going to work."
“Why not?”
“Because—” you start, but the words catch in your throat. You’re not even sure how to explain. The fears, the doubts, the past... all of it feels too big, too overwhelming to articulate in a way that makes sense.
“Because the idea still terrifies you?”
You frown, caught off guard by the directness of his question. “No.”
The smile stretches even more across his face. “Then give me one good reason why you think so.”
"Oh I can name a few."
He studies you, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he’s trying to read every thought racing through your mind. “Let’s make a deal then. You give me those reasons why we can’t work, and I’ll give you reasons why we can.”
You’re quiet for a moment, considering his offer. It’s bold, almost reckless, and yet... there’s something in his eyes that makes you want to accept the challenge.
"And if your reasons aren’t good enough?"
“Then we’ll deal with that when we come to it,” he replies softly. “But I’m willing to bet we won’t have to.”
"You really think you can convince me?"
"I can try." He leans a little closer, just enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from his body. "So, what’s your first reason?"
That’s too easy, too obvious. “You’re one of my brother’s closest friends,” you point out. “What happens if this doesn’t work out? I don’t want to put him, or us, in that position.”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “That didn’t stop us in the past.”
You scoff. “Spencer, we were sneaking around behind his back. It’s not exactly the same thing. This… whatever this is, it would be out in the open, and that’s a whole different level of complicated.”
“It would be different, yes. But that doesn’t mean it has to be a problem. If anything, it shows how serious we were then, and how serious we could be now.” You scrunch your nose at his response. “Now what’s next on your list?”
"Uhh.. the distance! You’re in D.C., and I’m not. It’s not like I can just drop everything and move closer.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You’re a three-hour drive away, maybe two if I take the expressway. And honestly, with how much we both travel for work, I don’t see how that’s an issue.”
His reasoning is so undeniably logical you feel a flicker of annoyance, not at him, but at how easily he’s dismantling your arguments.
“You didn’t even want to visit me back then.”
"You were the one who didn't want me to. You kept saying it was easier for you to come here.”
His words hit harder than you expect. You remember all the times you insisted on making the trips yourself. You'd convinced yourself it was about convenience, but with him calling you out on it, you realize it wasn't about convenience at all. It was about keeping things on your terms, maintaining a safe distance even when that distance wasn't physical.
"Well, I had more flexible hours," you claim. The excuse is flimsy, and the way Spencer looks at you—patient, but not fooled—makes it clear that he sees right through it.
You try to think of your next reason, although the words seem to get stuck before they even form. You know you can easily rattle off more excuses, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes it harder than it should be.
“That’s it? You’ve only thought of two? I was expecting a bit more of a challenge.”
You scowl at him. "I didn’t say I was done."
"Take your time," he comments, leaning back slightly, still wearing that infuriatingly patient smile.
You huff softly, trying to regain your footing. "Okay, how about this? Sex."
There's a beat of silence. "What about sex?"
You feel the words forming, but they sound ridiculous even in your own mind. Still, you force them out of your mouth. Your subconscious is urging you to come up with more excuses to keep him at arm’s length. "That was all that we had. What if… what if we just fall back into the same patterns?"
“Don't you think that's a reason why we can work? If we were only ever about sex and we're still here, doesn't that show there's something more between us?"
“Or it just means we had a strong physical connection. That doesn’t necessarily mean there’s something more.”
“You really believe that? That all we had was just physical?”
“Yes,” you retort, though the confidence in your voice wavers slightly. Your eyes flicker away for a split second before you meet his gaze again. “That’s all it ever was and I don’t know if it can turn into something you’re trying to imply.”
He lets out a low, amused sound, as the corners of his mouth twitches upward. “You’re deflecting.”
“I’m being realistic,” you shoot back. “What if we try, and it doesn’t work? What if everything falls apart because we weren’t good at anything but the sex?”
His eyes light up, and suddenly he’s wearing the most boyish grin you’ve ever seen on him. “So you're admitting the sex was good?"
You stop yourself from rolling your eyes.
“You know what I mean. What we had was...” Wild? Passionate? Crazy-hot-mind-blowing sex? “…intense. But intensity isn't enough for a relationship. What if the rest of it doesn't hold up?"
He leans in closer, his hand hovering near yours on the couch.
“But what if it does?”
All you can do is stare at him.
“You’re giving me all these reasons to push me away again,” he continues. “But I’m here because I’m not afraid of those doubts. I’ve always wanted to give you more than what we had because you deserve something real. I want us to be real this time, and I think you do too, even if you’re scared to admit it.”
His words are affecting you more than you like to admit. You can slowly feel it in the tension building between you, it’s surprisingly not the uncomfortable kind, but the sort that pulls you in, that makes you want to move closer even though every instinct tells you to stay put.
And then it happens. You feel a slight tremor in your leg, an involuntary movement that causes it to brush against his. The contact is so light it's almost like it didn't happen at all, but it did. He notices—Of course he does—and now there’s a certain gentleness in his gaze like he knows exactly what's going on inside your head. He doesn't push, doesn't rush, just watches you with those impossibly kind eyes.
And in the softest, most careful voice, he asks, “Can I move closer?"
Your heart is pounding now, the rhythm echoing in your ears, in your chest, in the pulse at your throat. The sensation travels downward, a slow, steady beat that moves through your body, inching its way down your spine, tightening in your stomach before it settles low in your abdomen. It’s a heat that spreads outward until it reaches your core, leaving you acutely aware of every inch of space between you and him—and how much you want to close that distance.
You find yourself nodding. He shifts closer. “Can I touch you?”
You really want to say something witty, something that might deflect from the weight of the situation, but the words won’t come out. You can only manage another nod. He moves slowly, carefully, giving you every opportunity to pull back. But you don’t. You can’t. You’re rooted in place as his hand reaches for you.
His palm gently rests on your jaw. Your eyes flutter closed against your consciousness, and the tension that’s been coiling in your chest slowly unwinds, replaced by a sense of calm. When his thumb slides across your cheek, he speaks again. His voice is so close it's as if the words themselves are brushing over your lips.
"Can I kiss you?"
You inhale sharply. The word "Yes" hovers on the tip of your tongue, but you don't need to say it out loud. He can already see the answer in the way you’re leaning into him, and his mouth is on yours in an instant.
The reality is, you’ve kissed Spencer before. Plenty of times, actually. You know the feel of his lips, the way they can be both gentle and demanding, the way he tastes faintly of coffee or something sweet when he’s had a treat. You also think back to those hurried kisses in the past when time was short and the world was pressing down on you. Or the playful pecks that came with laughter. Even the desperate, heated moments when the need to feel something, anything, was too overwhelming to resist.
This kiss, however, isn’t like any of those. This one is slow, and achingly tender. His movements are unhurried. The way his lips glide over yours carries a deep sense of care, like he’s trying to memorize every soft curve. Just as you begin to melt in his arms, he pulls away slightly, not very far, but enough to hover close that you can still feel the heat of his breath on your lips.
There’s a tense silence as the tip of his nose brushes gently against your cheek. You can tell he’s giving you the space to decide what happens next, and there are a lot of scenarios running in your head. You could push him away, repeating history all over again. You could be in denial and pretend all of this never even happened. But something inside you snaps.
Maybe it’s the way he’s holding back, so gentle, so careful, too afraid of pushing too far. Or maybe it’s the realization that you don’t want him to hold back, that you need more, that you’re tired of resisting what you’ve both been dancing around for so long. Before you can second guess yourself, you’re clutching onto the fabric of his hoodie, tugging him closer.
He tenses for a moment, but the hesitation is gone almost as soon as it appears. His mouth finds yours again, and he lets out a deep, relieved sigh. You feel the soft, insistent push of his tongue against the seam of your lips. You hold onto him, parting your mouth eagerly before he slips his tongue with a desperation that catches you off guard.
Then his hands seem to be everywhere all at once, tracing the curve of your spine, sliding down to the small of your back, and brushing along the edge of your jaw. His fingers then tangle in your hair, tugging gently while his other hand skims over your waist. But when his hand slips inside your shirt, calloused fingers brushing your soft skin, you slowly pull away. “W-Wait.”
His eyes widen slightly, and you can feel the shift in his body. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“No, no,” you say quickly, tugging him closer again. “I just… I think we should continue this conversation somewhere more… private?”
He pauses for a moment. “Really?”
“If you want to.”
A subtle smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Are you trying to seduce me for sex?”
You’re oscillating between being incredibly turned on and equally mortified. In a sense, yes, that’s what you’re asking. But you didn’t expect him to be so blunt about it. You don’t think he’s ever been this direct in the past, and now you’re wondering if you missed something before, or if he’s just tapped into a level of confidence you’re struggling to keep up with.
“Would it be inappropriate if I said that I am?” you ask hesitantly, and you can’t help but wince a little as the words leave your mouth.
“Since when have you been worried about being inappropriate with me?”
“Well, Spencer, if you haven’t noticed, there’s a five-year gap since the last time we slept together.”
His hand on your waist tightens slightly. “Five years too long, if you ask me.” Then he pulls you closer until there’s barely any space left between you. “You do realize this is you giving me a second chance, right?"
In a way, you do. You've spent so much time convincing yourself that you were better off keeping your distance. Walking away in the past was easy, but now… now it feels different. The years have stretched on, and the excuses you’ve made have started to wear thin. Especially when just being near him is starting to stir memories you thought you’d buried—some good, some less so—but all intense, all Spencer.
Maybe he's right. Maybe five years is too long to pretend that whatever was between you didn't matter.
You slowly meet his gaze. “I realize.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
You hesitate, not out of doubt, but because of the sheer gravity of what you're about to say.
"Maybe."
His sigh is audible when he hears your answer, and without missing a beat, he brushes the barest, lightest, most gentle of kisses on your lips. “Maybe is good.” Kiss. “I can take—” Kiss. Kiss. “—maybe.”
You think you should say something more, but all coherent thoughts scatter the instant his lips meet yours again. You return his kisses, hesitant at first, but quickly falling into a rhythm that feels achingly familiar. It doesn’t take long until his lips move into something more urgent. There’s a hunger there, a pent-up longing that he can no longer hold back. His tongue flicks against yours, teasing, coaxing, and you know you need to stop him before he starts to undress you right there on the couch.
You reluctantly pull back. “Bedroom. Now.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice. He pulls you to your feet, and you’re practically dragging him to the guest bedroom. When the door closes behind you, he’s quick to guide you toward the bed, his hands firm on your hips as he steers you backward. The moment your legs hit the edge of the bed, he pauses, his hands lingering on your waist, and for a moment, he just looks at you.
“Having second thoughts?” You tease. The sarcasm drips sweetly in your voice, knowing full well he’s been trying to win your heart the entire evening.
“No,” he mutters. “I’m trying to see if you are.”
You draw back from his arms just enough to climb onto the bed and lay down in the middle. “Does it look like I am?”
He shakes his head with that cute, bashful smile. Although there’s nothing bashful about the way he pulls off his hoodie and tosses it carelessly onto the floor. The shirt underneath is crumpled, and his hair is even messier, sticking up in ways that make you want to run your hands through it.
“Come here,” you motion for him. Without hesitation, he crawls between your legs and leans in for another kiss. His hair feels like the smoothest silk when you finally reach for it. There’s a slight dampness from the faint sheen of sweat on his skin, the way it curls just slightly at the ends, brushing against your forehead as he dips his head to capture your mouth.
You don’t think you can ever get tired of kissing him. There’s a familiarity in the way he moves. His lips mold perfectly to yours, soft yet demanding, as if he knows exactly how to draw out the deepest parts of your desire. And you feel it everywhere. In your pulse, in your veins, all the way down to the spot between your legs.
It intensifies even more when his lips begin to trail down your neck. You feel the first warm rush of arousal pooling in your panties when he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your throat, the fluttering veins below your jaw with so much intensity as if he's taking every one of your heartbeats for himself. Your grip tightens in his hair as he marks another spot near your collarbone.
“I’ve missed this so much,” he murmurs as he slowly nips down your neck. “I’ve missed you.”
You can only hum a reply, your voice catching in your throat as your head starts to spin from the way his hands are now trailing down your side. He reaches the hem of your shirt and pauses, fingers lightly tugging at the fabric.
“Can I take this off?” He asks, pulling back slightly just enough to look down at you. With his messy hair falling into his glossy brown eyes and swollen wet lips, how can you possibly say no to him?
Without a second thought, you nod, your fingers already moving to help him with the fabric. His eyes never leave yours as he slowly lifts your shirt. It slides up over your skin, and you raise your arms to let him pull it off completely, tossing it aside without a care. Your bra comes off next, and when that follows to the floor, his eyes sweep over your body.
There’s a certain look in his gaze. Devotion would be too strong of a word, but it’s something close—something softer, yet just as intense. You’ve seen desire before, felt it in fleeting touches and heated glances, but this is different. This feels different. It’s as if his gaze is reaching into the spaces between your thoughts, gently pulling at the threads that hold you together to unravel you in the most tender of ways.
He kisses the spot between your breasts.
“You’re always so pretty.”
He gives a soft peck just above your heart.
“So incredibly beautiful.”
Then his tongue flicks along the delicate curve of your chest, making a slow, teasing trail upward until he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucks gently, rolling it around with his tongue, and you’re mesmerized by the lewd scene of him drawing your flesh between his lips. Your fingers instinctively find their way back into his hair, tugging on the soft strands as he continues to lap at your sensitive skin.
He then shifts slightly, his mouth releasing your nipple with a soft, wet sound before moving to give the same attention to the other. While he suckles and nibbles on one hardened peak, he rolls the other between his thumb and forefinger, sending a rush of pleasure straight to your core. If you thought you were wet before, you’re certain you’re drenched by now. Your panties cling uncomfortably and the growing desire makes you ache to peel them off.
He must sense your growing need because his kisses trail lower, down to your stomach, while his fingers toy with the waistband of your leggings. His touch is teasing, slipping just under the elastic, and you instinctively lift your hips, silently begging for more. He takes his time as he slides the fabric down your legs, his knuckles brushing against your skin before discarding them somewhere in the room.
Your attention is on him as his palm dances along your inner thigh, and the closer he gets to where you ache him the most, the more your breath hitches in your throat. When his thumb brushes over the wet patch on your panties, your hips buck against him. “Spencer…”
He glances over at you and lets out the most appreciative sigh. You really are beautiful. Eyes full of lust, skin flushed with his marks. You’re a vision of longing, and every part of him is consumed by the sight of you. “Yes?”
You squirm under his gaze. “Aren’t you… going to take them off?”
A slow, teasing smile spreads across his face. “What, these?” He gives a playful tug at the edge of your panties, his fingers just barely slipping beneath the fabric before pulling away. “Are you sure you want them off?”
You try to hold back your groan when his thumb finds your clit. “Yes. I-I’m sure.”
He grins, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you, but instead of giving in immediately, he begins to circle your clit slowly with his thumb, watching your reaction closely. “On a scale from one to ten, how sure are you?”
Now he’s starting to get on your nerves. You can’t hold back the small huff falling from your lips. He simply laughs then slowly takes off the last piece of your clothing. The cool air instantly hits your skin as he grabs your knees, spreading your legs apart. He skims along your naked body and when you notice where his gaze settles, you swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy.
It's kind of ironic, you think, how you've gotten this far, and now, of all times, you're suddenly blushing like a damn teenager. It's as if your brain is catching up to everything your body already knows—that this is real, and it's happening. You can't help but laugh at yourself a little. Here you are, all tangled up in each other, practically begging him to get you naked and yet you're acting shy now?
He seems to notice the shift in your mood, his hands pausing on your thighs as he looks up at you with concern. He tilts his head slightly, his brow furrowing. “Did I do something wrong?”
You quickly shake your head. “I’m suddenly feeling very self-conscious.”
He studies your face for a moment. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No!” you blurt out, more forcefully than you intended, your hand instinctively reaching out to grab his wrist. “I… I guess I’m not used to feeling this exposed in front of you.”
He shifts slightly, moving closer so he’s eye-level with you, his hands still resting gently on your thighs. “We’ve done this countless times before.”
“I know, but that was years ago. Things feel different now… like there’s more at stake, maybe?” You let out a sigh. “It’s silly.”
“It’s not silly,” he reassures you. He soothes the skin behind your thighs. “But you don’t need to feel self-conscious with me. You’re beautiful, and I just want you to feel as good as you make me feel.”
If he keeps talking to you like that, there’s no doubt you’ll end up giving him your heart on a silver platter by the end of this. He shifts lower down your body. “We can go as slow as you want,” he continues, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh, then another. “Just tell me what you need.”
You take a deep breath as his soft stubble grazes your skin. “I need you.”
“Then you’ll have me.”
You watch with heavy lids as he drags his lips along your skin until he presses the most tender kiss on your cunt. He really wasn’t lying when he said he could go as slow as you want because every kiss is achingly gentle, barely more than a feather-light touch. It’s the kind of softness that makes you writhe beneath him, and before you know it, your fingers are tangling in his curls while your hips buck against his face.
There’s a slight vibration on your skin—it could be his laughter, or maybe just a hum of contentment—but you don’t bother deciphering it. You’re too lost in the sensation as his tongue breaches your folds. You peer down and watch as he trails the tip of his tongue through your wetness, slowly tracing up and down your slit until he flicks it against your clit.
You’re honestly gone after that. You’re not surprised, though. If there’s one thing Spencer Reid is good at, it’s knowing exactly how to use his mouth. Sure, he’s a bona fide genius who spouts off random facts and quotes obscure literature, but his mouth? His mouth is a whole different level of expertise. It’s almost unfair how good he is. It’s like he’s studied you, memorized every little thing that makes you go crazy, and now he’s putting all that knowledge to devastatingly good use.
And it’s not like he’s doing it just for your pleasure. It brings him the same deep satisfaction. His eyes are closed, and he seems to lose himself in the act, savoring every taste, every reaction, every subtle shift of your body beneath him. It’s as though he’s completely immersed in finding an almost insatiable need to drink in everything about you. His tongue delves deeper, swirling around your entrance before sucking gently on your folds, pulling the soft skin into his mouth.
You find yourself pressing his head closer to your heat. His eyes flickers up to you. “You’re back.” Your response is simply another push of his head. “Oh. Needy, are we now?”
"Mhm," you manage to squeak out, feeling a rush of wetness seeping out of you. He leans in, his tongue catching a bead of moisture before it drips further, dragging it between your slick folds.
Your grip in his hair tightens.
“Spencer…”
“I know, I know,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a smile before his mouth descends again, this time focusing on your clit. His tongue flicks over the sensitive nub before he gently sucks, pulling it into his mouth with a slow rhythm that has you gasping. Each motion is perfectly timed and you feel yourself growing even wetter under his attention. His tongue swirls, then flattens before he sucks a little harder.
It doesn’t take long for you to feel that familiar coil in your stomach. The pleasure builds steadily, the tension winding tighter and tighter until it slowly overwhelms you. Spencer seems to sense it too, his hands gripping the back of your thighs a little tighter, pushing them further apart as he continues with unwavering focus. He’s not rushing, though, he’s savoring it, but his slow motion is enough to make you snap.
Your hips jerk against his mouth, and he doesn’t miss a beat, holding you steady as he continues his ministrations. He’s relentless in his gentleness, coaxing every ounce of pleasure from you, even as you’re left gasping for air. When you finally come down from the high, Spencer finally lifts his head and places a final, soft kiss on your inner thigh.
“Do you still feel self-conscious now?”
It takes you a moment before you can answer. You smile lazily at him. “Not after that.”
He grins and pulls you up into a sitting position. “Do you think you can give me another one?”
“Spencer,” you breathe out. “Even if you gave me thousands of orgasms, I’d probably ask for more.”
The laugh he lets out is warm and infectious, the sound vibrating through you in a way that makes you smile even wider. “Well,” he starts, slipping his hand down your thigh. “The human body is capable of experiencing multiple orgasms in a relatively short period of time, especially for women. So technically, you could keep asking for more, and I could keep giving them.”
“Even up to a thousand?”
“Maybe not to that extent.” He pulls you close, and you lean your weight against him. “Hold on to me.”
You do as you’re told and somehow you find yourself in a new position. When he spreads your legs apart, your senses go on high alert again. “Spence?”
He kisses your cheek, your jaw, then the corner of your mouth. “Try to relax.”
A gasp escapes your lips as his fingers dive between your thighs. Try to relax? Try to relax? Men and their audacity to tell you what to do, especially when they're the reason you're so wound up in the first place. Because how are you supposed to relax when his fingertips are brushing ever so gently over your clit? How are you supposed to calm your breathing when he’s spreading your arousal up and down your folds?
And how are you supposed to keep your composure when he suddenly fills you with, not one, but two of his fingers?
You feel yourself slipping and he tightens his other arm around your waist. “Told you to hold on.”
He’s starting to annoy you, but you listen to him and bury your face in the crook of his neck. You take a deep breath as he starts to move his fingers. Soap, you decide. It must be his soap, because he smells clean and crisp, almost like fresh linen and a hint of something peppery. It’s almost distracting if it weren’t for the way his fingers are curling inside of you.
Then you feel that sensation again, the kind that ripples through every nerve of your body. At first, it’s manageable, an intensity you think you can handle. But when he suddenly changes his technique, everything shifts. His entire hand moves in a fast, up-and-down motion that catches you completely off guard, and before you know it, you’re whining, your grip tightening on him as your head falls on his shoulder.
The rapid pace makes your head spin. It feels like he’s pulling the control right out of your hands, leaving you questioning your own limits. You’ve seen yourself getting wet, you’ve felt yourself become drenched before, but you’ve never experienced anything like this. You never realized your body could produce this much liquid. It’s not an overwhelming amount, but more than you’ve ever seen from yourself, and it splatters against his hand, dripping down your thighs.
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even flinch when your nails claw into his shirt. He keeps going, and going, and going, until the only thing you hear is your rapid breathing against his neck and the slick, wet sounds he’s coaxing out of you. You’re overwhelmed (in the best way, of course) but you can’t stop yourself from cursing as the sensation intensifies, multiplies even.
It's not until your body starts to go limp that he finally takes pity on you. He slows down, his fingers pumping lazily inside you. “Good?”
“How did you—when did you—” you exhale a long breath. “I can’t feel my legs.”
He slowly withdraws his fingers out, only to rub your essence over your puffy clit, and your hips jerk once more before he finally stops. You're a trembling mess once you sink into the mattress.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you do that before.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever done that in my life.” Your eyes suddenly feel incredibly heavy that you can't resist letting them flutter close.
He kisses the tip of your nose. “Still up for another one?”
You peer through one eye, and when you catch him starting to undress himself, your other eye shoots open. The nod you give him is eager. His smile widens as he shrugs off his shirt, and you can’t help but let your gaze drop to the line of hair trailing down his stomach. You wonder what it would feel like under your tongue.
"Wait."
Your eyes snap back up to meet his. "What?"
His face twists into a grimace. “I don’t have a condom.”
Shit. Neither did you.
You roll onto your side, propping yourself up on one elbow and resting your head in your hand. “And you’re realizing this just now?”
“I was too focused with you."
And by that, he means giving you the most intense orgasm of your life. You watch as his fingers hover over his belt. “You really didn’t think of bringing one when you decided to come over?”
“My intention coming here wasn’t exactly for this.”
“Well, it would be great if you at least considered the possibility." You study his face and blurt out the first thing on your mind, “I don’t want to stop.”
He shifts his weight on the bed. “Me neither.”
“I mean… we could have sex without using one. We’ve done it before. Once.”
He recalls what you're referring to and lets out an amused laugh. “Are you sure? Didn’t you freak out when you realized your period was late?”
“That was a coincidence! I was stressed out at that time, but I’m safe now—I think.” You pause, brows furrowing as you start calculating your cycle in your head. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m not ovulating.”
“Pretty sure?”
You give him a look. “No, I’m actually sure. I know my body, and I’ve done the math. See?” You gesture vaguely, as if the numbers and facts are floating in front of you. “No ovulation in sight.”
The corners of his mouth twitches into a smile. “Alright then,” he murmurs, and leans down to plant a soft kiss on your lips. “No ovulation in sight.”
“None,” you confirm before tugging his belt. “Can you please take off your pants now?”
He complies—with incredible speed—and when he’s finally as naked as you, your mouth waters at the sight of him. His cock is painfully hard, thick, with a bead of arousal glistening at the tip. You try to reach for him, but he has other plans. He crawls over your body and slips between your legs. He then grips the back of your thigh with one hand, pulling it up slightly to open you to him, while the other holds himself from the base.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The moan you let out is lewd. “Fuck, Spencer.”
An airy laugh slips out from him as he rubs the head of his cock around your clit. “So needy.”
You wiggle your hips. “Hurry up.”
He only hums in response, before easing his hips back just enough to drag his swollen tip through your slick outer lips. The underside of his cock splits your folds open with each stroke, and your head is spinning. It’s almost sweet how he’s taking this slow, but at this point, you’re so close to just shoving him inside you. You let out a frustrated whine when he pulls back, only to thrust forward just enough for the head of his cock to nudge at your entrance.
Your walls squeeze around him.
“O-Oh…” His mouth falls open slightly as he stares down at where your bodies meet. “I… I don’t remember you being this tight.”
You follow his gaze, watching the way your outer lips swallow him inch by inch. “I-It’s been a while.”
He pushes further, and your nails dig into his shoulders as he stretches you in a way that feels almost too much, and you can't help but tense when he thrusts further. He wraps your leg around his waist before leaning down, propping his weight on his elbows.
“Need you to relax,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over the pulse fluttering wildly in your neck. You do as he says. Breathe in, breathe out. Clench, unclench. And then you feel him easing inside you, oh-so-deliciously slow, until you squeak out a gasp when he finally fills you completely.
Because fuck, he stretches you—wrenches you open, and you’re consumed by his heat, the pressure, the sheer size of him. It overwhelms your senses, and all you can do is sing out a filthy moan. He follows your tune with a melody of his own, though his voice trembles, sounding more like he’s in pain as if he’s trying to hold himself back.
“You’re so warm,” he groans, his breath hot against your skin. “You okay?”
You nod and wrap an arm around his shoulders. “More than okay.”
“Do you think I can move?”
“Please.”
There’s no hesitation in the way he pulls back, only to sink into you again. His hips roll against yours in a way that feels both achingly slow and unhurried, like he’s savoring every second to memorize the way you feel around him. It’s like he can’t quite believe this is happening, that you’re giving him the chance to be tangled up with you in this position again.
And truthfully, neither can you.
But here you are, two bodies moving in perfect harmony, intertwined in the most primal, human way. Flesh against flesh, breath against breath. Even your heartbeats sync in the same rhythm. The world beyond seems to dissolve, leaving nothing but the pull of desire that draws you deeper into the moment, into him, until the boundaries of where you end and he begins blur into something undefinable.
It’s nonexistent. You’re glued to him, fused in a way that feels as if this is exactly where you belong.
No more running away, you decide.
“Kiss me.”
He’s in no position to decline, and within a heartbeat, he captures your lips in the sweetest kiss—well, as sweet as it can go. Because even though he tastes like honeyed warmth, his hips continue to pound into you, hitting that deep, tender spot inside. You whine against his lips. A needy, breathless sound that has him faltering for just a second, his hips stuttering against yours.
“You feel so—” he chokes on his words. “God, you’re so perfect.”
You’re perfect, you want to say, but you stop yourself, biting down on the words before they escape. It’s not that you don’t believe it. You just can’t bring yourself to admit it out loud. Not yet. Instead, your need wins out, pushing past everything else.
“More,” you gasp between shallow breaths.
He rests his forehead against yours. “Yeah? You want me to go faster?”
You whine in approval.
The instant he pulls back, his tip barely teasing your entrance before slamming into you again, a sharp gasp escapes your lips. He repeats the motion. Once. Twice. By the third time, he doesn’t hold back, driving his hips hard and fast, the wet sound of your bodies slapping together echoing off the walls.
You turn into a putty mess. You can barely think, let alone form words, your mind clouded with nothing but the feeling of him—inside you, around you. Your whole world narrows down to this moment, to the way he fills you so perfectly. His forehead stays pressed against yours the whole time, his lips hovering above yours he murmurs, “Tell me if it’s too much.”
But it’s not. It’s everything. Maybe even not enough. “I…” you gasp when a certain angle from him hits a deep spot inside you. “Oh, Spencer… harder, p-please.”
He’s more than happy to oblige.
He shifts slightly, then snaps his hips forward with a sudden, forceful thrust. He repeats the motion. Over and over again. His pace is relentless now, and he starts to pant, his breath coming in sharp, ragged bursts, every exhale brushing against your lips. There’s a tension in his body, a taut strain in muscles, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. And you can’t help but moan softly into his mouth, swallowing each of his gasps as his control starts to slip away.
“Where do you want—” His voice falters. “Can I—inside—”
You nod frantically. “Yes. Yes.”
It’s enough to push you both over the edge.
The sensation starts as a gentle warmth in your fingertips, slowly winding its way through your body. It weaves through your limbs, spirals up your spine, before gathering intensely at your core. You’re shaking, trembling, and you instinctively reach out for something to ground yourself. One hand threads into his curls, the other clutches his jaw.
Then it happens. His cock moves in a frantic rhythm, sending you spiraling deeper into intense pleasure for the third time tonight. Your inner walls tighten around him as your orgasm crashes through you, gripping him so tightly that it pulls a raw, breathless groan from his lips. He slams into you with uneven thrusts as he presses your body flat onto the bed, until he stops and shudders, spilling hot, white liquid deep inside you.
You don’t think you’ve ever felt something this intense before—not even with him in the past. Every inch of your body is buzzing as his warmth spreads through you, reaching places you didn’t even know existed. You cling to him, your nails softly grazing his back as he finally lets out a satisfied hum, his lips moving to pepper kisses along your face.
He starts with your left cheek. Two gentle kisses. He moves to your right, giving a light peck that lingers just a moment longer, almost as if he’s blowing a warm breath against your skin. You giggle as the air tickles you. Then finally, he settles on your lips with a sigh that merges into a kiss. It’s soft, sweet, and tenderly slow.
You let out another laugh when he finally pulls away.
“What?”
His curls fall messily on his forehead and you reach up, brushing it back. “You’re starting to grow on me.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “I grow on you?” You simply nod. “Like fungus?”
Your fingers pause in his hair. “Like what?”
"You know, fungus. It grows on things. Like mold or mushrooms,” he explains and gives you a smile. "Am I growing on you like that?"
You’ve been apart for so long that you almost forgot how his brain works. His unexpected comparison sparks your amusement, so you decide to humor him. “Depends on what kind of mushroom you are.”
He looks thoughtful for a while. “There's this mushroom called mycorrhiza. It forms a symbiotic relationship with trees and helps them grow by improving water and nutrient absorption."
“And that makes you what, exactly?”
“Essentially indispensable.”
“So you’re claiming you’re good for me?”
A slow, confident grin spreads across his lips. “I’m saying I’m exactly what you need.”
You burst out laughing. Your cheeks might actually ache from smiling this much. “That was pretty smooth.”
He looks incredibly pleased with himself. Then after a quiet moment, he buries his face in the curve of your neck. You close your eyes, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against yours, and a sigh escapes your lips. It’s like all the time you spent apart melts away in that single breath, and something inside you relaxes, as if he’s managed to sneak back into the parts of you you’d forgotten existed.
Maybe he is right. Maybe, after all this time, he’s exactly what you need.
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You wake up to the sound of clatter. It’s loud, jarring, and it echoes around the house. You stir in bed, stretching your limbs before tensing when you feel something poking your back. Your hazy mind immediately snaps into alert, and you open your eyes fully, glancing toward the window. Sunlight is already pouring into the room, far too bright for how early you thought it was.
You quickly turn over to the other side.
“Spencer. Spencer!” you hiss, shaking his shoulders urgently. “Wake up! We overslept!”
He groans softly but doesn’t move. Another loud clatter bounces off the walls, and your heart pounds wildly in your chest.
“Spencer,” you whisper sharply, eyes widening. “I think Matt is home.”
That finally gets his attention. He blinks his eyes open. “Wha—?”
You’re already halfway out of bed, rushing to the window to peek through the curtains. Sure enough, you spot your brother’s car parked in the driveway. “Yep, he’s here,” you mutter under your breath, the panic rising as you turn back to Spencer. “And now he’s going to kill us.”
“He’s not going to kill us,” he mumbles, but even by his voice, you can tell he’s not entirely convinced. You watch as he finally slips out of bed, scrambling to pick up his clothes scattered across the floor. “We talked about this last night. It’s not going to be as bad as you think.”
You shoot him a look before quickly pulling on your own clothes.
“There’s a big difference between telling him, and him finding out that his sister is sleeping with his friend while he was away taking care of his wife and baby.” You yank your shirt over your head. “In his freaking house.”
When you put it that way, Spencer’s heart sinks a little. Although Matt isn’t a violent person, he has twice the muscle he does, and it’s not hard to imagine him being a lot less forgiving in a situation like this. He can’t help but picture the worst-case scenario even though Matt’s always been the reasonable type.
Until now, maybe.
“Do you think I should climb out the window?”
You stare at him in disbelief. "Spencer, you’re not sixteen.”
“Actually, I’ve never been in a situation like this,” he admits, pulling up his pants. “My biggest concern when I was sixteen was getting my first PhD.”
You forgot how ridiculously smart he is. Smarter than most people, definitely smarter than you. “Well now you’re getting firsthand experience.” You start pacing around the room. “Let’s just try to stay calm.”
“That’s kind of hard to do when your brother could walk in while I’m half-naked.”
You look at him in horror. “Then put your damn shirt on!"
Before he can reply, there's a noise from outside the room—a quick shuffle of steps, light and rapid, as if someone’s rushing down the hall. You barely have time to react before the door is wrenched open.
But it's not your brother.
It's far worse.
You feel your stomach drop when your eyes lands on the small figure of your nephew, standing there with wide eyes. His gaze shifts back and forth—from you, disheveled and clearly flustered, to Spencer, whose bare back is facing the door, still fumbling with his pants. From little Jake's point of view, it must look like the most confusing sight, because he quickly retreats, bolting down the hallway.
“Dad! Help! There’s a strange man in Auntie’s room!”
You don’t know whether to laugh or panic. The fact that Jake didn’t recognize Spencer without his usual suit is almost comical. You glance at him, noticing how his body has tensed, his back straightening in alarm.
“Who was that?” he whispers, turning to you with wide eyes.
"Jake.” You blow a strand of hair that falls across your face. “Who apparently thinks you're an intruder."
The blood seems to drain from his face. “He didn’t recognize me?”
Your eyes flick over his appearance—his wild, tangled hair sticking out in all directions, bare chest still slightly flushed from sleep, and pants barely zipped. “Not when you look like this, no.”
But before he can respond, you hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway, heavier this time.
Your heart leaps into your throat.
“Shit.”
“I should have climbed out the window.”
The idea of him dangling from the window is even more absurd. You glance toward the door. "Okay, wait here. Let me talk to Matt first." Your eyes flicker to his bare chest again, and you let out the most exasperated sigh. "And please, for the love of God, put on your shirt."
You don’t have time to wait for his response as you rush out of the room, quickly closing the door behind you. You take a second to catch your breath, trying to compose yourself, when a noise down the hallway draws your attention. Only then do you notice Matt cautiously advancing towards your way, his back against the wall.
That’s when you spot the gun in his hand.
“Seriously?” you hiss, staring at him in disbelief. “What the hell, Matthew!”
He looks at you, equally surprised. “Jake said there was a strange man in your room!” he replies defensively, tightening his grip on the weapon. “What was I supposed to think?“​
Your eyes shift toward your nephew, who’s peeking around the corner, his little head barely visible as he watches the scene unfold. This is definitely not how you expected your morning to go. A simple, awkward conversation was one thing, but having to disarm your brother while explaining this mess was an entirely different level.
“There’s no intruder, Matt. Put the gun down.”
He looks past you, his eyes zeroing in on the closed bedroom door. “Then who’s in there?”
You bite the inside of your cheek. There’s no easy way to explain this. How do you even start? That Spencer is standing half-naked in the guest room, trying to gather his dignity after being mistaken for an intruder by a six-year-old? You never thought you'd have to introduce Spencer to your brother this way, in his own house, under these chaotic circumstances.
You can feel Matt's eyes boring into you, waiting for an answer. All you can think is how ridiculous this all must look, and how there's no good way to smooth over the fact that, yes, Spencer Reid, his friend slash teammate, is behind the door. And the most absurd part? A part of you is more worried about the look on Matt's face than the fact that he's holding a gun.
“Please don’t be mad.”
You hold your breath as you slowly reach for the doorknob. You push the door open and let out a small, relieved sound when you see Spencer fully dressed, looking almost presentable, except for the wild hair that refuses to settle. He gives you a small nod before stepping out of the room.
“Uncle Spencer?” Jake’s small voice cuts through the tension. Matt’s gaze darts between you two, his jaw tightening as he puts the pieces together. You can see the moment realization hits him full force.
“Reid?” Matt’s voice is incredulous, bordering on betrayed. “What the hell is going on?”
“I can explain,” you say cautiously. “It’s not exactly how it looks.”
“Not exactly how it looks?” Matt echoes, his eyes narrowing at you, then shifting back to Spencer. “You’re in my guest room looking like you just rolled out of bed—”
“Fully clothed now,” Spencer cuts in quickly, which only earns him a frown from Matt.
“Not helping,” you mutter under your breath, shooting Spencer a look before turning back to your brother. “Fine, it’s exactly how it looks like. So… uh, surprise?”
You watch so many emotions flashing in his eyes. Matt’s always been a good brother. Sometimes annoying, but always reliable. He doesn’t usually get angry at you—quite the opposite, actually. He’s calm, level-headed, and more prone to offering advice than raising his voice. But now? The frustration is clear in his eyes.
He’s not mad exactly, but he’s definitely not happy either.
“Surprise?” Matt repeats, his voice flat. His gaze flick back to Spencer, who’s now shifting his weight awkwardly beside you. “This is how you decided to tell me?”
“Okay, it’s not how we planned it, obviously.”
“Clearly,” he deadpans.
You put on the best, innocent-looking face you can muster.
“Maaatttt,” you try again, deciding to use a different approach by being cute this time. “Don’t be so harsh.”
To your relief, it actually works on him, like it usually does whenever you try to charm your way out of trouble. His tough exterior falters because, no matter what, you’re still his baby sister. His face softens for a moment, shoulders dropping as he lets out a sigh.
“I’m not mad, okay? But I am your brother. And you,” he adds, pointing at Spencer. “You’re supposed to be my friend. I feel like I should’ve known about this before… well, before finding you like this.” Your shoulders slumps at his words. “How long has this been going?”
Now that is a tricky question. Explaining that you and Spencer occasionally had sex five years ago definitely isn’t something your brother needs to hear right now—or ever, really. You can almost feel Spencer tense beside you, probably having the same thought.
You clear your throat. “Last night.”
"Last night?" Matt looks at you as if you’re crazy. It might be the most disapproving look he’s ever given to you. "You're telling me this just started last night?"
"But—" you quickly add, holding up a hand to stop his train of thought. "We’ve been talking for a while, it’s not like it happened out of nowhere. Last night was just the first time we decided to actually do something about it."
“Right under my roof?” Matt’s brows pinches upward. “You lied about having a headache, didn’t you?”
“Wait, you had a headache? Why didn’t you tell me?”
You’re not sure you can handle two men pestering you at the same time. You focus on your brother instead.
“Look, we didn’t plan anything yesterday. Things just… happened,” you say, trying to explain without making it sound worse than it already does. “But it’s not only about last night. For what it’s worth, we were planning to tell to you. Just not like this.”
Your brother cocks an eyebrow. “So this isn’t a one-time thing?”
Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “God, no,” he says. You feel an arm snake around your waist. “I care about her. A lot.”
Matt stares at Spencer for a long moment, his face a mixture of frustration, concern, and something else. Acceptance, maybe. He looks back at you. “Is this what you want?”
You feel Spencer’s grip tighten on your waist. He’s also waiting for your answer.
“It’s what I want.”
Spencer’s thumb brushes over you as Matt lets out a long breath, his grip on the gun finally relaxing. “This feels weird.”
“In a good way?”
“In a bizarre kind of way.” Matt’s falls falls on Spencer again. “I’m still trying to process this, but if you hurt her—”
“I won’t,” Spencer promises. “I swear.”
“Good, because you know I can put you back to prison if you do.”
Oh, he knows. Spencer understands exactly what he means, after all, Matt was one of the few people who helped clear his name during one of the most horrific moments of his life. Even if there’s a slight jab in his words, Spencer can tell he’s being dead serious. Especially with that gun still attached to his grip.
You, on the other hand, are hearing this for the first time. “Wait, what?” you blurt out. “Prison? You went to prison?”
Spencer merely shrug. Matt finally lowers his weapon, shaking his head as if he can’t quite believe this is happening. “I need coffee,” he mutters, turning toward the kitchen.
“Wait…” Jake finally peeks out from behind the wall. You blink your eyes, forgetting he’s even there. “Does this mean Uncle Spencer is your boyfriend now?”
You feel three pair of eyes on you. Matt’s gaze is sharp. Spencer’s expression is cautious. And then there’s Jake, looking up at you with the straightforward curiosity only a child can have. To him, things are simple. Either you are, or you aren’t, and in hindsight, it really is a straightforward question. But nothing about this situation has been straightforward.
You look at Spencer for a fraction of a second. You can see the nervous hope reflected in his eyes. Maybe Jake’s question isn’t just his… maybe it’s Spencer’s too.
And sure, maybe it doesn’t have to be so complicated. Maybe it really is as simple as saying—
“Yes.” You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. “I suppose he is.”
If you’ve ever seen Spencer being happy, it pales in comparison to this. His eyes light up, and he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world. A genuine, almost boyish smile spreads across his face as you feel his warmth seep into your skin. There’s so much affection in his gaze it makes your chest tighten. He’s not just happy. He’s beaming.
Matt clears his throat awkwardly. “Come on, kiddo, let’s grab what your mom needs and get back to the hospital.” He glances back at you. “You guys coming?”
You nod absentmindedly. “Sure.”
He throws you both a look. Not hateful, but definitely not warm either. You see him grip his gun from the corner of your eye, more out of habit than necessity, before steering his son away with a firm hand on his shoulders.
“That went better than expected,” Spencer mutters the moment your brother is out of earshot.
“‘It’s not going to be as bad as you think’,” you mock, reciting the words he said to you half an hour ago.
“It wasn’t.”
“Spencer, he held a gun.”
“He thought I was an intruder. I would’ve done the same thing,” he points out, his tone surprisingly calm as he holds you by your waist. “Relax, okay? He’ll come around us. Eventually.”
“You’re awfully optimistic about this.”
“He likes me.”
He does have a point. Matt has always had a soft spot for Spencer, but you’re not sure how far that can go after what just happened. “I think you might have lost a few brownie points today.”
He considers the truth in your words. “Maybe,” he admits with a shrug. “But at least I earned a few with you.”
“Because of the boyfriend thing?” He’s grinning so wide that his eyes practically disappear into crescent moons. You poke the slightest dimple on his cheek. “Don’t act so smug. I’m still trying to process the fact that I’m dating an ex-felon.”
“I was framed,” he explains, and the way he says it so nonchalantly only deepens your confusion. He tries to smooth your frown with a kiss. “I’ll tell you everything on our first date.”
“Who said I’ll go on a date with you?”
“You will,” he simply says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“And what makes you so sure?”
Because he’s always been sure. The man who doubts everything, who overanalyzes every situation, looks at you with a certainty that makes your heart swell. You’ve seen that look before—the one that says he’s considered every possible outcome and decided this is the one that matters most. There’s something magnetic about it, the way he seems to know exactly what he wants, and right now, it’s you.
“Because I’m your mushroom.”
He’s so silly, yet there’s something so perfectly Spencer about it that makes the idea of not going on a date with him feel impossible. You shake your head, unable to suppress your smile.
“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter, but the warmth in your chest tells you he’s already won your heart.
And you don’t mind him keeping it.
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hello-there · 3 days ago
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Communities are a new way to connect with the people on Tumblr who care about the things you care about! Browse Communities to find the perfect one for your interests or create a new one and invite your friends and mutuals!
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seraphicsentences · 5 months ago
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hey baby i was wondering if you could write something about chubby!reader feeling insecure and Ellie noticing and worshiping her body like a damn goddess byeee ily!
hi my loveeee i loved this request but i hated everything i wrote. i’m so sorry this took so long i’ve clearly been off my game. heres a half decent drabble to suffice and it in a god-awful written out form if you want your eyes to suffer (here)
✂️ so imagine date night with ellie after a loooong tough week, and you’re stuffed up in your room, frustrated, because you cannot decide what to wear for the life of you. everything’s either too tight, or too casual, or too short, and really you’re starting to think that it’s just you that’s the issue.
✂️ here comes ellie now, swinging into your room absolutely elated to be going out with her girl after a brutal, busy week of not seeing her, and she can feel the distressed tension emanating from you the instant she steps in.
✂️ “what’s wrong, baby,” she’ll ask, coming up from behind you to wrap her arms around your waist, peppering kisses against the side of your head in greeting. —to which you’ll merely shrug, biting your cheek as you let out a shaky sigh, mumbling your frustrations.
✂️ and then ellie’s jumping in, genuinely distraught that her beautiful girlfriend doesn’t see herself the way she does, and she’s tugging you over to sit between her legs in front of your floor-to-ceiling mirror, and she’s gently prying your arms away from being held over your bare stomach.
✂️ she has a hand cupped softly by your jaw, making you watch yourself as she takes you apart, but not before quite literally worshipping every single inch of your body.
✂️ she’s murmuring things like, “i want you well-fed,” and “it’s my duty as your girlfriend to spoil you silly,” when you frown at the creases over the pudge of your stomach, and whispering things like, “look at you, fuck you’re so pretty” and “c’mon tell me how pretty you are,” as you blush at the way she won’t let up on her praises.
✂️ she’s squeezing at the meat of your thighs, staring hungrily like she wants to sink her teeth into them (and she has, before), and ranting on about how much she loves them— especially when they’re squirming shut tight around her head.
✂️ and then her mouths going off nonstop, telling your pretty mind to shut up and for you to use your pretty voice to tell her where you need her and to spread your pretty legs so she can see how soaked you are for her and then stuffing your pretty, dripping, pussy full of her fingers.
✂️ and she doesn’t stop there. taking it as her job to fuck you through three orgasms while you watch your reflection fall apart, murmuring sweet, sweet praises that have you clenching down around her like a vice.
✂️ and even through your tear-filled vision your eyes soften, as you can’t seem to see anything other than genuine love and affection in the way ellie presses soft kisses to your nose and forehead between whispers, and in the awe-struck way her mouth drops open every time you shudder against her warm chest, fingers grasping in her hair as she stimulates you beyond belief.
✂️ and when she’s decided that you’ve had enough, you can deem yourself nothing short of beautiful without grimacing, she curls her overworked fingers to caress the deepest crevice of your burning core, rasping into your ear, “you’re perfect, and you’re mine,” she says, “my perfect girl.” and that’s what tips you over the edge, hurling towards your fourth orgasm as you arch into ellie’s touch, gasping for air.
✂️ it’s when you’re coming down when she strums her fingers through your hair, continuing to mumble the gentlest assurances into your sweated-over skin, capturing your lips in an oh-so-soft kiss to whisper, “i love you,” into the warm cavern of your mouth.
✂️ “let’s order in yeah? we’ll put on our movie,” she’d say, because it was never about going out to a nice dinner, but going out to a nice dinner with you. and dressing up is overrated anyways, she decides.
well yikes!
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hellfire--cult · 1 year ago
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Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel
Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 (end)
WC: 16.3k (dont say anything)
⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, shyness towards men, nervousness, self-esteem issues, fluff, self doubt, flirting, soft touches, skin on skin contact, kissing, kissing with tongue, pining, Stripper!Billy, Stripper!Steve, sensual dancing, smut (i won't spoil it)
Plot: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.
Summary: You have a date, but it doesn't go as you thought it would. Friends are always there to bring a smile to your face, and Eddie gets the reason of why the date went wrong, ending with him helping you in a very special way.
A/N: I am so sorry for how long this took! But it's finally here, and it's long, and I hope it's up to everyone's expectations! I am happy I got so much response on this fic, from people I admire, as well as to all of you who decided to start reading it. Thank you!
You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!
Taglist is closed - Follow me for updates and put notifications on!
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PART 5
Your breath was heavy as you stared up at the ceiling with a sheen of sweat over your forehead. 
You almost never did this, but lately there was a need for it like never before. You didn’t even know what you were imagining, or who you were picturing, but you never felt so carnal before, so needy, and it all started since you kissed Eddie. It was as if there was a switch inside of you, and he just turned it on, and now it’s unstoppable.
When was the last time you actually had sex? It had to be over two years now, because that’s the last relationship you had with a man. You could handle it for two months only. You always went for the same kind. Introverts. Rarely go out, probably gamers that spend their nights and days on the computer, so it was a win win for you. You got to satisfy that primal part of you, and you barely had to see them.
And you don’t even enjoy it, or at least that’s what you think but now, for some reason, and out of nowhere you are craving for it. The only explanation for that is because you now know you can talk to people you find attractive and you might have a shot at it. Should you download those dating apps Robin uses? 
You look at the clock and realize you have just half an hour to prepare your coffee and get on the computer for work. Your eyes slightly widen and you sit up, almost throwing your vibrator to the ground.
“Shit!” You didn’t intend to touch yourself in the morning like this, but you awoke at 8 and for some reason you were restless. You didn’t know why, because you had actually touched yourself the day before, and two days before that. You were being insatiable and you don’t know how to stop it. 
But now, thanks to that, you were rushing out of bed to put on a nice shirt but keeping your pajama bottoms on, just in case you have a meeting today, and try to wake yourself up in the bathroom, washing your face as quick as possible, and brushing your hair. You put some mascara on, and rushed out of the bathroom to finally start your pot of coffee. You walked towards your desk that was in a corner of your living room, and opened up your laptop, ready to log on to work.
When you finally had your cup of coffee and you were working away on the computer, you could finally relax. You put on some jazz music just to fill the background with something as you worked the day away. You had some lunch, making a quick tuna salad to fill your stomach as you looked at your phone, scrolling on instagram.
You had a message from Eddie, and when you opened it, it was a video of a horse where the owner asks if he is going to be a good boy today, and the horse simply turns, farts on the camera and runs away. You almost snorted out the water you were drinking, swallowing it quickly to start laughing at it, double tapping the video for a like.
It was friday, so maybe you can go to Eddie’s today, maybe hang out with the other guys if they’re available, invite Robin too. You were happy that she and Steve were getting along, and even if they insult each other on a daily basis, it was always in an endearing way. Almost. 
For over a month you’ve been over the moon with your new found friends, and also a panging sense of guilt filled your gut for not telling your other friends. You’ve gotten together with them, and you had to bite your tongue from your excitement whenever they said about going out at night but for your sake they decided to simply have dinner at a bar, or restaurant.
You went to Eddie’s messages, and you honestly believed that after your kiss everything would be awkward, but actually, you felt as if you two had gotten closer. The messages were more recurring, and now sometimes he messaged you good morning if he woke up early enough. This was not one of the times, so he must have worked till late last night.
You blushed as you thought about that, because there was a part of you that was intrigued if you would still faint at seeing them strip in front of you. When you remember that night, you don’t feel as flustered as you felt some weeks back. You knew you would be nervous, but it didn’t feel as gut wrenching as before.
You were about to say good afternoon to Eddie until a notification popped up in your laptop. You put the phone down to see who messaged you, seeing it was one of your coworkers asking for help with something. You read what he had been having troubles with and realized it’s not something you can help him with via text. Austin wasn’t a bad guy, and he almost never asked for your help, barely talked to him during meetings, which you were now putting your camera on unlike previous times.
So you decided you would open up a video call with a presentation to actually help him. Your heart was pounding in your chest, but it was something you knew how to do. You fixed yourself a bit in front of the camera and took a deep breath in before calling him. It rang just three times and then he came into view, knocking your breath just a bit.
You saw him at the meetings a few times, but he always looked tidy, with his hair pulled back and a nice button up shirt on. Since you didn’t have any formal meetings today, he had decided to wear a casual black T-Shirt, and his blonde hair was a little messy, but it was casual messy. His eyes were greenish from what you could see, and unlike the times you’ve seen him, there was a beard on his face now.
In one word, Austin was gorgeous, and he made you straighten up on your chair a bit.
“Hey there, sorry to bother you with this, really.” He starts, rubbing his cheek in embarrassment. You shook your head and smiled softly into the camera.
“No, no, it’s fine, I wasn’t doing anything particularly important, so don’t worry about it.” He smiles back and gives you a nod. That gave you the que to start explaining to him, pulling the sharing screen feature to show him the practice of it as well. He asked a few questions of course, but you didn’t mind the interruption really, and you found yourself being able to talk without stuttering or stopping at any point. 
“So it was that easy… Look, or I’m a complete idiot for not understanding the manual or–”
“The manual is outdated Austin.” You giggled at him and he squinted slightly to the camera with a soft smile to his face as he looked at you.
“Hey, I think this is like… The first time I ever talked to you, apart from the meetings of course.” He says and that made you slightly nervous, but a good nervous, knowing he was engaging in conversation and that you actually felt like continuing it.
“Yeah, I am not the talkative kind–” You see him squinting intently into the camera and you tilt your head at him, wondering what he is looking at.
“Is that the collection of Harry Potter in your library?” He points and your eyes widen, looking behind you, the library on full display and the 7 books in chronological order and different sizes and colors must have given it away. You turn your head to look at him with a smile and nod.
“Yeah– Kind of obsessed with it really.” He smiles widely into the camera and puts his wrist up and you look into the screen to see a wand tattooed on his skin, making you widen your eyes with a surprised look on your face. “Holy shit.” He laughs at your cussing and you felt yourself blush for doing so, but he wasn’t showing signs of disgust or being uncomfortable at that.
“Same here, read the books since very little. I know there’s controversy now with it, but I can’t fight my childhood really.” He says and you know exactly what he is talking about, feeling the same way about it. You give him a nod, with a smile on your face and you bite your bottom lip with curiosity in your eyes.
“Yeah, I get that…” He squints slightly at you with a playful smile on his face as he scoots closer in the camera.
“You look like you have something to ask me.” You catch the way his face changed when talking to you from the beginning, letting the butterflies in your belly break loose. 
“I was going to ask you what house you’re in.” You ask and he thinks for a moment, and you widen your eyes because he wasn’t telling you right away.
“Mmm… I could tell you, or I could let you figure me out.” 
Oh.
Oh. He was flirting with you. 
Your heart was beating wildly now, not expecting the call to turn this way at all, and you were almost speechless at it. You have to be brave, a cute guy was openly flirting with you, a cute guy who is not Eddie, or Steve, or Billy! He is not helping you with anything, he is flirting with you because he wants to!
“And can you figure me out?” You ask back, tilting your head slightly and he smiled at the reciprocated flirting. He licked his lips and cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I mean, I think it would be easier in person… Maybe tonight, after work, like an after office kind of thing?” He asks you and you feel the beating of your heart in your throat, trying to settle your breathing down. He was asking you out, on a date, a date with a cute guy. What should you do? Should you say yes? No? But this is what you wanted, you have to remind yourself that this is why you asked for help in the first place.
“U-Um, sure! We can meet up somewhere?” You ask him and he gives you a nod with a smile to his face.
“Sounds great, put your phone down on the chat so I can message you later, because fucking Lorraine is blasting my notifications right now with something.” He rolled his eyes and you giggled at that, knowing how annoying that coworker is. You bit your lip as you went to his chat and typed in your cell phone number and he smiled at the camera once he received it.
“So, see you later I guess?” He gives you a nod and a small wave.
“See you later.” And like that the call ended.
You let out a sharp breath, like a loud huff, letting your lungs decompress because you couldn’t believe it. You were stunned, sitting at your desk, looking at the computer as if it were the most incredible thing you’ve seen in your life. 
You had a date.
You got yourself a date. By yourself. By being yourself and just you, no excessive make up was required. A wide smile spread on your lips as you squealed with flushed cheeks towards the ceiling. You would go out with a cute guy, finally. Your breath was heavy as your stomach bounced with nervousness, excitement, nausea, everything but you didn’t care. 
You grabbed your phone and unlocked it, and as soon as you saw where it was unlocked, you felt your stomach slightly drop. Eddie had sent you a good afternoon himself, with a tired smiley face. You bit your bottom lip, gulping as you wrote good afternoon back to him, and for some reason you didn’t want to tell him about this date.
You thought he would be the first person you would like to tell this to, but there was a feeling in the mouth of your stomach that didn’t let you. You really don’t know why, but you just felt uncomfortable telling him something like this. Why? Why would it be weird to tell him this? Your brain was trying to find a solution, but in the meantime, you changed from Eddie’s messages to Robin’s.
‘Come to my house, ASAP.’
And that’s all Robin Buckley needed to head upstairs with her work laptop in her arm, barging through your door. 
“This better be fucking goo–” 
“I have a date!” And Robin almost dropped her laptop to the floor at the news, looking at you with a completely stunned look on her face, features not even moving as you stared at her with widened eyes, waiting for her response. Suddenly, like getting hit by a brick, the realization dawned on you. “Oh… Oh shit, I have a date… I have a date Robin, what do I do?”
Your stomach started flipping over now that it all sank in. It happened way too fast, and out of nowhere, and now it was happening. In a few hours you would meet up with a cute guy and you didn’t know what to really do. What did you have to expect? Should you expect more than a kiss? Should you shave? Should you put on your lingerie or not? Do people do that on the first date? But you did want to feel good, so what is wrong with that? But wouldn’t it be desperate–
“Hang on!” You heard Robin yell and you realized you were pacing around the room, holding onto your head completely exasperated. You turned to look at her with a panicked look on your face and she quickly put the laptop on your counter and walked towards you, grabbing your hand to center you back to earth. “You’re going on a date?!” 
You quickly nod your head, feeling your cheeks burn as well as your entire body feeling like lava was being poured on you. Oh god, you were going with a stranger, well not a complete stranger, he’s been working in the same area for almost five months now, he looks tidy, his name is Austin, yeah, you can work with that, and he–
“He likes Harry Potter! He has a wand tattooed on his arm!” You say excitedly and now Robin knows exactly why you agreed so quickly. Nevertheless she jumped up in excitement, clapping her hands at you. She never thought she’d see the day you would go on a date, and much less with–
“Wait, wait… is he hot?” She asks and you nod wildly, going towards your work computer and putting up his work profile. He had a suit on with his hair moussed back but his features were the same. Robin’s eyes almost bulged out of her sockets as she looked at the man. “Holy fucking shit… From work!?”
“Y-Yeah… It’s not going to be a problem right? Oh… Oh there might be, what if it doesn’t work out Robin? I mean, what if I fuck it up, and I embarrass myself and he doesn’t want to talk to me–” 
“Then you two stay friends!” She immediately cut your rambling off, turning to look at you with a smile to her face. “Not every man is a douche bag, and if it doesn’t work out, it just doesn’t and you two go back to being coworkers, but THIS, is a big fucking step!” She says excitedly, making you smile to match her energy, despite the ongoing nervousness in your belly. 
“Yeah, I’m… a little excited too… Really nervous, but excited.” You say to her and she bites her bottom lip, grabbing her phone from her back pocket, looking for Steve’s contact, pressing the video call button, jumping up and down slightly.
“I can’t wait to tell Steve! I mean I bet you already told Eddie, so–”
“WAIT!” You yell but it was too late. You could hear the sound of the video call starting and your blood drained out of your body, and your stomach was turning all around. 
“Robin, what-sha wantsh?” You hear Steve mumble and Robin makes a disgusted face with a smile still on her face.
“Stop chewing your food like a camel, and listen to me. Guess who has a date tonight!” She says onto the screen and you wince when Steve doesn't respond at all. You weren’t looking at the screen so you didn’t know what his reaction was.
“You said we should all hang out today, and now you have a date?” He says and your ears perked up at that. Robin thought of the same thing you did this morning, warming your heart a little bit, and also feeling sad you won’t be able to join. Robin rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“Not me Dingus.” She then, out of nowhere, turned the camera to face you this time, making your eyes go wide. “TA-DA!”
Steve’s eyes almost popped out at the surprise and he suddenly spat the cheerios he was eating. You had a disgusted look on your face and then heard a lot of noise from Steve’s side, cursing and stomping all around.
“Harrington, what the actual fuck!” You heard Billy yell and Steve was coughing non stop. Your face flushed, burnt even at the attention and then Steve tried talking, saying your name.
“She- She has a date tonight!” He yells and the next thing you heard was a pan dropping somewhere and Eddie suddenly came into view with his hair up in a ponytail, shirtless, and with his tattoos showing off. Your stomach flipped at the sight, making you step closer to the phone, grabbing onto it. 
Your eyes locked with Eddie’s as he too took the phone in his hands, snatching it from Steve, aggressively, and faced the camera to look at you. You weren’t about to faint, he could guess that much, and you didn’t really give off an excited vibe to it. 
“You’re going on a date tonight?” He asks and you are about to reply but you get cut off by Steve yelling in the background, as Eddie seems to rush upstairs towards his room.
“My phone Munson! Where are you–”
“Shut the fuck up Harrington, I’ll give it back!” Your eyes widened slightly at the anger you felt in his tone, as if he were having a bad day, but then his eyes turned to you and that anger was no longer there, but an emotion you couldn’t quite describe. “So?”
“U-Um… Yeah, I-I am going on a date tonight, with a coworker actually…” You were embarrassed and you didn’t know why. There was a feeling of pain in your chest, or a feeling of uneasiness in the center of your gut as you saw Eddie’s face contort slightly at the news, to then give you a small smirk.
“And? Do you find him, you know… attractive?” He asks, with a certain nervousness in his tone. He was feeling his chest slightly pressing into his lungs, as if air were about to be gone from them at any second. His fingertips were sweating as he held the phone to his face, looking at you intently, watching your reactions.
“I mean, he is, yeah, so… It can also end in friendship, who knows!” You give a nervous giggle and maybe it ends like that, maybe you find a great potterhead friend in a coworker. Suddenly Robin comes into the camera over your shoulder.
“He is fucking hot, I’m talking blonde, green eyes, AND Harry Potter fan.” She wiggles her eyebrows to Eddie and then to you and for some reason that made Eddie’s stomach flip over. So the guy liked something you liked. Something you were fascinated about. You rolled your eyes at Robin and then talked to Eddie again.
“I was going to tell you, but Robin beat me to it right now.” Eddie’s eyebrows twitched at that. You told Robin first, of course, but the doubt in his mind was still there. When did he ask you out? How long ago was it? Why didn’t you say good afternoon to him first?
“Well, you better gear up for that Angel.” He says pushing up a half smile on his lips, his jaw clenching at the thought of someone else seeing you dressed up. Dressed up in order to get their attention, to fawn over you. Makeup neatly done to accentuate your best features, because you want them to look at you. 
“Yeah…” For some reason you couldn’t stop staring at him on the screen, your heart tugging on you for some unknown reason, and you were feeling a little bit lightheaded and his staring was making your body tense. 
“Welp Eddie, I have to help her get ready, tell Steve I’ll be there at 8!” Robin says excitedly, about to grab the phone out of your hands but Eddie stops her, flailing a hand around. He took a deep breath in, trying to contain himself at the moment. He had to be a good friend about this, because that’s all he was. Yes, that’s all he was.
“Angel, if you um… if you don’t feel safe at any point, or you feel uncomfortable, you leave, or call me– any of us. Okay?” He says to you, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. You felt safe thanks to his words, but there was another feeling, a weird one that you didn’t know how to describe. You gave him a slow nod and your free hand gripped tightly into a fist.
“Y-Yeah… I’ll be fine, I can do this, right?” You look for his reassurance, wanting to know if the past month was worth it, if all the lessons and confidence boosters were going to work for this very moment. He stayed silent for a few seconds, forcing a smile on his lips as he nodded at you.
“Yeah, you got it sweetheart.” He should remind you about body language, he should remind you about the topics one can talk about on a date, he should remind you about how pretty you look without even trying, to not force yourself into doing extra or anything. He should remind you about how great you kiss, how amazing you feel, how great you smell, because that would make you confident. That would make the date go your way and not the other guy’s.
But he just clenched his jaw as you took a deep breath in with a nod, handing the phone back to Robin.
“Okay Eddie, see you later!” And like that, Robin hangs up the call, letting Eddie see his own reflection at the phone’s black screen. His eyebrows were knitted together, face completely tense, and he finally let his hand fall to his side, while the other ran all over his face in frustration. 
“MUNSON, MY PHONE!” Steve yelled from downstairs and Eddie clenched his fist around his phone that’s on his side, not even afraid if he was bending it or breaking it. His chest was heaving, up and down, sharp breaths flaring through his nose as the twist in his guts made him even more irritable, each second that passed as he thought about what you were going to wear. What you were going to smell like.
What if the date goes well?
Another scream for Steve made him finally snap out, slamming his fist against the doorway of his room, cracking his neck once as he took a deep breath in to calm himself down. 
“Stop pissing your fucking pants Harrington!” He yelled as he headed downstairs again.
He really hoped your date didn’t like anchovy pizza.
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You looked at yourself in the mirror, again, for the hundredth time in the day. You were wearing a tight black dress, almost like the purple one, with a leather jacket on top, and then you were wearing black low heel ankle boots. Robin helped with the outfit and the hair, but the makeup you decided to not use much eyeshadow, some neutral for it, and then eyeliner and mascara.
Your lips were glossy, and you looked down at your legs, a deep blush spreading on your cheeks. You shaved. Maybe it won’t lead to that, but you shaved, entirely, just in case because you knew your body was in need, and it had been for a few days. You felt some nausea appearing in your stomach as you stared at your reflection.
Do you even know how to have sex? You’ve only done missionary in your whole life, you don’t even know how to do a blowjob properly, hell, even a handjob! What if you are as stiff as a board? What if your moans are too loud? Would you even moan? You don’t remember moaning much before, not even when you touch yourself, and it’s just you in the room, no one else could hear you.
Your breathing started picking up at the thought of it, making you sit down on the bed. Austin had messaged you and told you to meet him at ‘Il Capo’ which is quite close to your apartment. The closeness made you feel somewhat calmer, but your thoughts were running wild at the possibilities the night might unfold. 
But you wanted to feel good, you wanted something or someone to satiate this need that was never there before and you don’t even know why it suddenly appeared. Maybe he can help with that, maybe this is a good thing, maybe you will be able to let go, just like you did with Eddie. 
Would he be like Eddie?
You snapped out of your daze as you heard an alarm from your phone, that you set up to make you actually leave your place. You took a deep breath in, getting up from your bed and grabbing your bag, taking a look at yourself once more, before deciding to leave your room and then your apartment. 
Every step you took towards your car and every second you drove to the bar, your heart was hammering in your chest, wanting to rip it open, wanting to simply turn and go to Eddie’s to spend the night with him, the boys and Robin. You had to shake that feeling away, knowing that this was good for you, this is a good fucking thing, something you yearned for for a long while. 
But as you stood outside the bar for 10 minutes, you were beginning to get fidgety. Maybe you were too early? Maybe it’s normal to not be punctual on a date? What if you come across as too uptight because of it? You didn’t want to make him think that you were a control freak of time, or that you were desperate or–
“Hey!” You heard your name being called, cutting your every thought and you turned around, your eyes almost wide as you had to look up towards the man that was greeting you. He was pretty, too pretty. His blonde hair was the same as you saw on camera, and he was wearing a white shirt, some jeans, and an opaque leather jacket on top that smelled like leather. The collar of his shirt was almost loose, which gave away how his muscles tightened as he bent down slightly to look at you.
“H-Hi Austin!” You slightly winced at how excited or how desperate you must have sounded but your knees were slightly buckling in his presence, your nerves at the tip of your fingertips as he looked at you. 
“Sorry, Lorraine was a little intense so I logged off a little bit later than I expected.” He says, wincing slightly but in all honesty, you had just waited 10 minutes, and he was making it seem like he was two hours late, which made you smile and shake your head, feeling a little bit more at ease.
“It’s alright, I didn’t really wait long.” You say to him and he nods towards the bar, guiding you both inside. It was still a little early for people to come in, but it was the time all office workers came for happy hours after a stressful day at work. He picked a rounded booth, and you took notice of the setting. This would allow you both to sit next to each other and not in front, facing one another. 
You took a deep breath in as you slid into the booth, him sitting next to you and his cologne suddenly hit you. It was bitter, too bitter for your liking, but it was still a manly smell. He took off his jacket and you blushed as you saw his biceps move, quickly taking off yours so it would feel casual. 
Body language, you gotta remember that. 
“So, why haven’t we gone out before? I haven’t seen you in like… any of the after office parties and I know you’ve been invited.” He says with a curious smile, looking at you, sitting almost on his side to be able to face you, so you copied his stance, feeling your cheeks get hotter as you looked at him. 
You can do this. They don’t have superpowers, he asked you out first, he was interested first.
“I’m more of an introvert, prefer to read or play something. Maybe hang out with my close friends.” You say to him as the waitress comes over to take your order. He orders a glass of Rum and Coke and you get a beer for yourself, with a side of french fries to snack on. That interaction let you take another deep breath to continue the conversation, feeling his body extremely close to yours, but he wasn’t really, your mind was just playing tricks on you, which you cursed in the depth of your brain.
“Oh? You play? I mean, reading I kind of guessed because of the massive library I saw, but I didn’t know you played games.” 
And that’s how the conversation flowed, getting to know one another, talking about work and about Lorraine, laughing as you both took your drinks, and you felt nice, the knot still deep in your stomach, but there was something nice about this. He was so much like you, with music, food, movies, books, almost identical.
“Right, and then my friend John, who I love dearly may I say, hugged that cactus, completely drunk out of his mind and we had to sit all around him, with tweezers, plucking all the little thorns out.” You laughed at that story, your eyes teary as you imagined the situation of a plastered guy just believing a cactus in someone's backyard was a person.
“H-Holy shit, that must of hurt!” He laughed with you, laying back on the booth, holding his belly from the strain of it.
“Sure it did, he had little thorns for over a week! He sat down on a chair and a new sting would appear.” He says with a shake of his head, calming his laughter down. You’ve been talking for the past hour and a half, letting yourself go in conversation and fluidity. 
“Oh to be the person that took the thorns out of there.” You giggled and he smiled at you, shifting again to face you. You noticed how his eyes changed from playful to a squint almost, and you noticed how they drifted to your lips and back to your eyes.
“So… Now that we know each other, which house do I belong to?” He asks and you smile, facing him as well with a turn of your upper body, squinting your eyes at him. You opened your mouth to speak and he stopped you with a hand up. “Hang on. We gotta set some prizes here.”
“Oh?” You raise your eyebrows up in surprise, feeling your chest almost somersaulting from the sudden proposal. 
“Okay, if you guess mine right, and I guess yours wrong, I’ll… Do your tax revisions for a week.” You smirked at that, knowing it was a good prize, and you pretended to be deep in thought before nodding at him.
“Alright, and if it’s the other way around? You guess mine, I don’t guess yours?” Your heart went to your throat as he gave you a grin, which made your cheeks flush, and your knees trembled as his eyes scanned your body for a brief second.
“I get to kiss you.” You definitely blushed at that and he noticed because he gave a small chuckle at your reaction. You gulped heavily, your belly turning in every direction possible, as your feet grew cold from your nerves.
“O-Okay…” He stood straight, fixing himself, and gave you a cocky smile, which made you a little bit more comfortable on his side. He was being goofy with you, and you very much appreciated that. “Mmm… I will say Gryffindor.”
He gave you a smile, relaxing his body and you noticed how he scooted closer to you. Blood rushed to your ears as he slowly shook his head at you. You guessed wrong. You took a sharp breath in and raised an eyebrow in question.
“You were wrong.” He chuckles as his eyes scanned you once again.
“And how do I know you are not lying?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest, feeling nervous about making a move, but Robin taught you it. Cross your arms under your chest and it will press your chest up a bit, popping it out. It worked, because his eyes drifted there for a millisecond and back to your eyes. He smiled widely, taking his keys out of one of the pockets of his jacket, and there, you saw the Crest of Slytherin dangling around it.
“And now, it’s my turn.” Your chest was ablaze as you copied him, straightening up to look at him, waiting for his response. If he guesses right, he will kiss you. This man wants to kiss you, willingly, and that is boosting you up a little. Feeling desired by a man like him felt nice, good. “Hufflepuff.”
You froze. 
He smiled widely at your surprised face, fully knowing he guessed right.
“I don’t even need to ask for proof, thanks to your silent reaction.” You gulped, hoping he wouldn’t hear that and how your belly was turning and jumping, because he was scooting closer and closer, each second that passed. “Do I get my prize now?”
You looked into his green eyes, into his perfect features, in how plump his lips were as he leaned in. The cologne is bitter, too bitter, yet, you close your eyes as the scent heightens, the warmth of his body presses closer, and you remember how the past few days you just needed this. You needed it. So you let yourself go, for once, and then you finally felt it.
Lips pressing against yours.
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“Okay, hang on, so I just like–” Robin was three beers in as she gave a sharp turn over her shoulder with a smirk on her face, trying to hold her laughter in, while Steve sat on a chair in front of her with arms crossed and an unamused look on his face. 
“You would suck as a stripper. That’s not even a fucking tease.” Steve says with a shake of his head while Billy laughs over at the couch looking at the scene, taking a sip out of his beer. 
“Robin, try to like, walk over to him, moving your hips from side to side.” Billy says as Eddie chokes on his own beer. He is on his fourth one, slightly feeling the buzz of it as he leans against one of the walls of their living room. 
Steve has been trying to teach Robin some stripper tricks, but the girl is hopeless. She was as stiff as a board as she tried walking sensually towards Steve who started laughing while covering his face with a shake of his head. The music she chose was ‘Super Freak’ and it wasn’t even sexy.
“She is hopeless, okay, Robs, try to, sensually take your jacket off.” Eddie says, a small smirk on his lips. He looked at his phone again, checking the time. 9 PM. And not a single word from you. His heart increased its pumping as he thought of what could have happened. Maybe you were having a great time, maybe he kidnapped you, maybe he murdered you. The possibilities were endless and they all sounded fucking wrong in his mind.
Even the one where you were having a great time with the guy.
Robin giggled and stood in front of Steve, starting to shrug her jacket away but the bell rang, making everyone raise an eyebrow in question, completely confused. 
“Didn’t we eat pizza like 10 minutes ago?” Steve asks and Billy gets up from the couch, heading towards the door, looking through the peephole first. His eyes widened and he yanked the door open.
“What are you doing here, sweets?” He asked as you stood at the door with a sour look on your face. Eddie immediately got off the wall as you walked inside the apartment, heels echoing around the room. He watched you with a bewildered look on his face as he studied your outfit and his knees almost buckled at the sight. 
You looked absolutely beautiful, and your scent filled the room in one swift movement as you rushed by him. Sweet, almost floral, and god he wanted to grab you right now. Anywhere, at any part, but he noticed your anger, and he looked towards Robin to check on her to see if she knew anything.
Robin was shocked to see her best friend here because she didn’t receive any messages at all, and she hadn’t checked her location for a while, which was her mistake. But you were here now, ripping the fridge open to grab a beer, closing the door and opening it for yourself, taking a large gulp for a few seconds. 
“Um…” Steve got up from the chair and looked at Eddie, motioning him with his head to go talk to you. Something was clearly bothering you, and they all suspected it had to do with your date. Eddie gulped, walking towards you as you sighed heavily with your eyes closed.
“Angel, everything okay?” You opened your eyes again and looked at his brown ones that were filled with worry. Your heart softened at that, and your anger washed away a bit, shaking your head.
“It wasn’t what I expected. I don’t want to talk about it.” You say with a grunt, going over to the couch to sit down with a grunt. Everyone else looked at each other in concern for a minute, wondering what happened or what’s wrong with you until you talked again with a confused frown to your face. “Why is super freak playing?”
At that Robin beamed, knowing you needed some cheering up even if the alcohol was buzzing in her body and she put her beer down on the coffee table, earning you a confused look on your face, looking at her. 
“The boys were teaching me how to be a stripper.” You choked on your spit, coughing a bit at her words. Your eyes immediately widened as you looked at the three boys who had playful smiles on their lips.
“Excuse me… what?” You say in surprise as Steve scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. 
“You are a lame excuse for a stripper, you wouldn’t get a dollar placed on your belt.” He says and Billy laughs as he walks over to sit on your other side, taking his beer in his hand again and taking a sip from it. Eddie was trying to be subtle about it, taking short glances at you and your outfit, seeing your legs pulled together as you bent forward to listen to Robin.
“It’s just if my work bores me!” She giggled and you noticed that everyone already had a few drinks ahead of you, making you smile at how funny and fond everyone was being to each other, but there was still a storm inside of your head, which Eddie noticed. 
“Come on sweetheart, chug that beer down and get in tune with us.” You looked at him with a surprised look on your face and he just smiled and winked at you, causing your belly to simply burst with something. Your thighs clenched as you looked down at your beer bottle and you tipped it back, starting to chug it down.
And as you drank the second one, and it complemented with the two drinks you had back at the bar, the buzz was already in your body, giggling as Robin bickered with Steve about his hip movements, and how they were not normal for her to do, yet, she claimed she was good with her dancing.
“Robin, you can’t just simply sit on the lap, that would be overly sexual.” Billy states and Robin rolled her eyes, drinking out of her fourth beer, shaking her head. 
“You guys do worse!” She exclaims and you giggle at that and nod, completely agreeing with your friend. You still remember Steve on his knees with water being poured on his almost naked body, you remember Billy grazing his lips with Barb after he licked her neck like a lollipop and then you remember Eddie. His fingers in someone else’s throat, and his lips over another girl’s lips.
The grip on your beer tightened at the memory.
“Okay, Robin, show it to me.” You suddenly say and everyone’s eyes widened as you went to sit on the chair that was in the middle of the room. You looked at her defiantly, now your confidence skyrocketed thanks to the alcohol in your system and she gave you a puzzled look as you took a dollar out of one of the pockets of your jacket, dingling it around. “You make me speechless, this dollar is yours.”
At that Robin beamed, and ran to Billy’s phone which was connected on bluetooth to a speaker and put on ‘Under the influence’ by Chris Brown. You winced at the artist choice, but kept a straight face either way. You wanted to laugh really, as Robin started swaying from side to side, and you had to give it to her, she was really trying. 
The boys were all laughing, almost grabbing their bellies as Robin approached you, holding in her laughter while biting her lips together, trying really hard to not lose it right then and there. She got in front of you and then turned around to shake her ass at you and that made you lose it completely, letting out a big laugh as you tried to shoo her away.
“Oh come on! I am trying to be sexy here!” She exclaims and you shake your head wildly, trying to hold in your laughter but it is almost impossible as Steve chokes up on his words.
“Jesus christ, Robs I didn’t teach you that!” Robin glared at her friend while you giggled behind her, still sitting and suddenly, Robin’s eyes sparkled with mischief. It was risky, and she knew it, but she wanted to know, she really was intrigued by your reactions.
“Alright, Mr. Perfect Stripper, go get that dollar then.” Your eyes widened at those words as well as everyone else’s in the room. Eddie’s stomach turned, feeling like Robin had crossed a line she shouldn’t have but then your words startled him, almost made him sweat over.
“The dollar is still in my hands.” You giggle out, actually feeling the situation comical, even if your nerves were jumping all around in your body. You trusted the boys as friends now, maybe that’s why you didn’t feel the embarrassment of the first time you’ve ever seen them. You saw them as people now, people that had a job, and people that became your friend. Dear friends even.
“Oh, I am getting that dollar.” Steve says cockily. The same song was still playing, as he walked over to you, Robin scrambling away to the kitchen counter to start preparing more drinks, but always keeping an eye over you. 
Eddie gulped heavily, rising up from the couch to take his place back onto a wall, not being able to sit down any longer, as Steve walked all around your chair, looking down at you and brushing his fingertips over your shoulder. Your face remained stern, arms crossed over your chest as you followed Steve with your eyes.
You actually followed him with your eyes.
His eyebrow raised up when you didn’t even budge by his touch, giving Eddie a glance so that he knows he is still testing the waters with you. That made Eddie let out a breath of relief, knowing Steve wasn’t doing this with any other intention but to try to get you to give him the dollar.
Accepting the challenge, Steve cocked his head to the side as he stood next to you, his hip right at your eye level, and you kept your eyes forward, Billy holding in a laugh as you kept your lips tight, holding in your laughter as you clenched your eyes when you felt Steve slowly swaying downwards, grazing his belt against your arm. 
For some reason, you wanted to laugh really hard, because this felt like when Robin danced on you. You didn’t even think it was sexy or with a sexual intention. He just wanted to get the dollar out of your hand, and that made you even more cocky. His face was inches from yours when you opened your eyes, and you shook your head at him. 
His mouth fell open, giving Billy a surprised look on his face. Eddie clapped in the background making Steve jerk his head to glare at him. Robin let out a breath of relief as she laughed, shaking her head.
“Oh look, it seems you aren’t perfect stripper after all.” She says with her tongue between her lips that turned into a smile. Steve got up, groaning as he walked towards the kitchen counter to grab the rum and coke she prepared and took a long sip. He wasn’t going to lie, a little bit of his ego was smashed there, but there was a part of him that was happy you didn’t sweat, or fainted thanks to his closeness.
You were looking at Robin who winked at you, raising her glass up as a cheer, and you raised your beer bottle to her, and as you were about to put the dollar bill back in your jacket, your wrist was grabbed, gently, and you jerked your head up towards the person who was holding you.
“Hey, I’m getting that dollar out of your hand, okay sweets?” You blushed at the pet name, and you know Billy’s sex appeal is much bigger than Steve’s, which made your body shiver quite a bit. Eddie took a deep breath in as Billy glanced at him once. The song was still on, the chorus hitting your ears as Billy’s hand grabbed onto the beer bottle to take it away from you and place it on the coffee table.
You gulped heavily as he hovered over you, and slowly, his hands went towards your shoulder blades, sliding them under the jacket and you felt his palms on the skin of your shoulders. Your breath hitched at that as he slowly took your jacket off, sliding it off your arms to then throw it across the room and onto the couch. 
His hips stayed on your line of vision as he slowly swayed them side to side, unbuttoning the first row of buttons on his shirt to reveal his chest. This escalated way too much from what Steve did and Robin was in full alert as she looked at the scene. She was going to kick Billy’s ass if you fainted right then and there. But you didn’t, you weren’t even moving as you clasped the dollar in your left hand. 
Billy tilted his head at you, amused by how different you are from a month ago, daring to look him in the eye as he moved sensually in front of you. He licked his lips as he walked behind you, his hands being placed on your shoulders again, leaning down to whisper in your ear. 
“Is that dollar mine yet?” And Billy smirked when you didn’t say anything, but your shoulders started shaking, alarming him, taking his hands off you to then hear you finally crack up, your laughter filling the room. Billy's eyes widened and he frowned in disbelief as everyone else followed in giggles.
“Look at her go!” Steve says clinking his glass with Robin’s who had a wide smile on her face, taking a gulp out of her drink. You were almost in tears as your head turned to look at Billy.
“I’m so sorry, it’s just, I couldn’t help it!” You say between giggles and Billy rolled his eyes, buttoning his shirt again and walking to get a glass for himself. 
“That dollar is hanging onto dear life.” Robin says and you giggle about to get up to retrieve your beer again but the lights suddenly dim, making everyone turn to the person near the light switch.
“You really forgot about me, Angel?” Your heart stopped when you saw him. He had put his hair up in a bun, his black shirt tight on his body, and shit, you didn’t take a good look at him when you first entered because your mind was definitely somewhere else, but now, your mind was on him. As well as your eyes, your scent, and you felt your breathing hitch at every thud his boots made against the floor. 
You heard your friends cheer on the low, and whistle, but you didn’t care, not when he suddenly got on his knees, crawling slowly to where you were, your thighs clenching tightly as your breathing picked up a pace because your heart started hammering wildly in your chest. 
He smirked, licking the inside of his bottom lip as he finally reached your feet, taking one ankle in his hands and raising it up, towards his face. Your leg started tingling from the sudden touch, and your belly was burstin with flames at the sight. Suddenly, it felt as if it were just the two of you in the room, all alone, as Eddie looked at you with eyes that one could only describe as adoration. 
He smiled as he took off your left boot, letting it fall to his side, and he led his lips towards the skin of your ankle. And oh god, that felt as if an electric shock shot from the place he pressed his lips on, and up towards your hips until it reached your brain. Your breathing was becoming too elaborated, but it was different from the other times you were breathless.
This felt too different.
His lips kept grazing your skin as he slowly started going up your leg, kissing your calf, softly, almost unnoticeable, but for you, it felt as if he were branding himself with hot iron lips. Everything inside you was burning, absolutely everything, but you didn’t want it to stop. Instead, you wanted it to keep spreading, more, and more.
Eddie was in a completely different battle all by himself, because you tasted sweet. Too sweet. Or maybe his brain was making it up because you drive him crazy. Maybe his brain was making it up because he was delighted to have you here instead of you being with your other date. Maybe his brain was making it up because he wanted to taste more. He needed to taste more of you.
You don't know what you did, did to me; Your body lightweight speaks to me.
He kissed your knee tentatively, looking up at you with his big brown doe eyes and your ankle started to finally lower itself as Eddie’s hand started moving upwards, feeling your skin under his fingertips, until the pressure got tighter on your thigh, making you gasp in your throat. He smirked at your reaction, slowly pulling himself up, in a crawl, first gripping on your thigh for leverage, and then his face came up in front of yours.
Your eyes locked with his again, and there was a connection that felt like nothing you ever felt before. Something that your heart was trying to tell you, and your belly jumped with excitement, but your brain was not cooperating into finding a word for it. His hand gripped the back of your chair, over your shoulder, his tattooed arm pressing against your skin as he leaned closer towards you, and then your mouth fell slightly open as the fingertips of his right hand touched the hem of your dress.
I don't know what you did, did to me; Your body lightweight speaks to me.
Your hand trembled, yet, your eyes never left his, even if his breath was hitting your face, and the tension Eddie was feeling with you was nothing like he ever felt before. This is definitely different than before, and he knew it, and he was wondering if you knew it. And he almost couldn’t help himself as his eyes drifted to your lips.
He wanted another taste. He needed another taste. The sweetness of your skin still lingering on his lips as he licked them to keep it in his mouth a little longer. But his eyes snapped open from the daze when he felt something in the front pocket of his jeans. He looked down to see you putting the dollar in there, and everyone else suddenly reappeared in the room.
He looked up into your eyes again, and your breathing was heavy, looking at him as your hand dropped to your side after putting the dollar in his front pocket. Nervousness, it was definitely there, you knew it was there, but the shyness was being overpowered by something else.
What is it?
“Now we know who the perfect stripper is.” Robin says excitedly with a squeal, which finally makes you and Eddie break from your trance. He broke into a big wide smirk, as Billy turned the lights on again with his arms crossed. He held a smirk as he looked at your face, which was a blushing mess, yet you were still looking at the brown eyes in front of you, not caring if he could see that. Eddie definitely had an advantage in this game.
Eddie pulled away from you, grabbing onto your hand to pull you up from the chair, which made you center yourself into reality once more. Maybe it was the alcohol, it definitely was that, but that growing need was in your belly again. Why now when you’re with friends? This doesn’t happen when you are hanging out with them, or it shouldn’t. You slid your foot back onto the shoe that Eddie took off, feeling the heat at the tip of your toes.
“Of course I was going to win.” Eddie says as he tries to push his nervousness away, walking towards the drinks to take a sip from one glass. Act nonchalant, act like there is no tension in the air and everything will be fine. He had to act as if he wasn’t going to kiss you right then and there in front of everyone else.
Robin was looking at you, trying to hide a smile while sipping her glass as you looked down, heading to grab a glass of your own. You shouldn’t drink anymore, but your throat was dry so you took just one more sip, and that’s all. Maybe that burning feeling would go away, it must be the alcohol producing it, and you say it like a mantra, to make sure that it’s real.
“I think the best stripper would be her if she dared to do so. I just have a feeling.” Billy says while pointing at you, squinting his eyes as he looks down at you, and that makes you smile, the tension in your shoulders disappearing for a second.
“Oh, now that would be dangerous.” Eddie says as he takes a sip while looking down at you as well, and you catch his eyes, a playful look on them, a hint of something you are not distasteful of, and you smirk up at him, feeling yourself burst with sudden excitement.
“You afraid I’ll take all your clients away?” You ask and he cocks an eyebrow up at the shift of your tone, the confident voice you just blurted out of your lips almost knocking him to the ground as he squinted slightly at you.
“They’re all women.” He says and you shrug, looking at Robin.
“Would the ladies like me?” You ask and Robin smiles, winking at you over her glass.
“Definitely.” You give Eddie a triumphant smile as he rolled his eyes, but deep in his mind he was imagining things. Oh, so many things. Things he shouldn’t think about with you. Things he should run away from, but even so, he knows it’s too late for it. He knows it, and even if there is a part of him that wants to run away from it, he also wants to embrace it. 
“Robin, make me another one of these.” Steve slightly slurs as Billy nods and hands his glass towards Robin. Eddie does not, sipping his last drink of the night as he watched you not drinking anymore either. He has questions afterall, so many, and you were not going to leave until you’ve answered them. Maybe it was to appease his mind, maybe it was because he needed reassurance of some sort. Maybe it was because he wanted to know if your date failed.
And he hoped, even if evil, that it did.
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“Shh!” Eddie says as you both walk upstairs. You were holding in your giggles as you gave a final look at the plastered and passed out Steve, sleeping on the floor with a pillow under his head, Robin resting her head on the small of his back, salivating it completely, while Billy snored on the couch with his jacket over his face.
They had three more glasses of whatever concoction Robin made, and it took no more than an hour for them to simply pass out drunk. Eddie and you had quit long ago, still a little fuzzy from alcohol but nothing like the people in the living room. You follow him into his room, and you realize that you’ve never been in there before. You walked in with an awe look on your face, looking around and Eddie leaned against the doorway, smiling while crossing his arms over his chest, looking at you as you inspected his room.
His room was dark colored, some posters hung on the walls, from different bands that he had mentioned he liked, completely different to the ones you liked, but you didn’t mind listening to his music every once in a while. A large bed was in the middle of it, covered in black comforters, because of course it was going to be all dark. Your eyes glanced at his desk, seeing various notebooks piled up and what looked like a folder.
You walk towards it, and read the top of it. ‘Hellfire Club’ and a logo of a demon with dice all around. You are guessing this is his Dungeon Master guide. He had mentioned his high school club to you, and you also knew he took the role seriously whenever he got together with his old friends. Your eyes caught on something on the desk and your eyes bulged out of your sockets, taking the frame in your hands.
“Oh my god… Is this you?!” You ask excitedly as you look at a young Eddie with a buzz cut on his head, missing tooth, smiling next to Wayne with a fish in their hands. Eddie winced at how quick you found that picture, but he was actually quite fond of it, hence why he kept it and even had it on display.
“Yeah. My old man made me cut it. Told me long hair is not very… manly.” His eyes drifted to the floor and you looked at him, realizing this is not a topic he likes to discuss. You knew little to nothing about Eddie’s family, apart from Wayne, Claudia and Dustin, and it seemed he preferred to keep it that way with you. But it was okay, they were the only ones that you really cared to know about, because they cared about Eddie.
“If he saw you now, he would eat his words, wouldn’t he?” Eddie chuckled at that, looking up at you again, his breath taken away when you were fondly smiling at him. He didn’t realize it before, but his heart rate had picked up a pace the moment you walked into the room with no problems at all. 
“Okay, now that we’re alone.” He steps inside, closing the door behind him, and you feel yourself grow hot on your cheeks and your chest at the realization you are actually alone, in his room, with him. You had to take a deep breath in, he was your friend, this is no different than all the other times you’ve been alone with him. “Care to tell me what happened with your date?”
You closed your eyes as you sighed. Your mood lowered in an instant as soon as he asked that question to you. There was anger in your chest, but also uncertainty, and with a lot of doubt. You knew the question would pop up at some point, because you showed up unannounced, didn’t say anything, and acted as if nothing happened today.
“It just… It wasn’t what I thought it would be.” You blushed slightly at your response, not wanting him to think you were a picky person, but maybe you were.
“Angel, gotta give me more than that. You didn’t look happy at all when you came in here.” He walked towards you to get a hold of your shoulder for you to look up at him. He gave a nod to his bed, motioning you to sit down with him at the edge of it, next to one another. He took off his boots and you looked down at your bare feet. You had taken yours off downstairs, feeling a little cramped from wearing them too long. 
“I– I don’t know…” You weren’t looking at him, and his gut turned at the nervousness in your voice. He was afraid something was done to you without your consent, but you didn’t seem nervous with him or with the guys before, so that theory kind of runs thin. 
“Sweetheart, did he say something? Or did he do something you didn’t like?” He asked you and your eyes widened, shaking your head at him with surprised eyes. 
“No, no, he was… He was sweet, and he was easy to talk to…” He held your gaze, trying to read you as his brows furrowed in confusion, as well as his fist clenched against his knee. 
“Then…? I don’t understand what happened.” He reminds you, once more, and you sigh heavily as you hide your face in your hands, resting your elbows on your knees, bending forward.
“I just– He was attractive, he was, I know it! I was so nervous, super nervous, and we talked about Harry Potter, and music, and food, and we’re so fucking alike and…” You didn’t know where you were going with this, but you were trying to explain what’s going on in your head, you really are, but you also feel embarrassed to do so, to say it to him.
“I am… still a little bit lost darling.” He was really confused, and he cannot even read what’s going on with you. This new side of you is baffling him, because you were easy to read before, see what was on your mind because of your eye movements, or tug on your lips. Now, he cannot really say what’s happening to you, and that kind of bothers him, annoys him really.
“I— God, I can’t say it to you. I just– I just thought it was going to be different than what I expected.” You say putting your hands down and he could finally see how bashful you looked, embarrassed, and he wanted to know why you were feeling in such a way. 
“You can tell me anything Angel. If it means it can help you understand yourself, then I am more than willing to listen to you.” He softly says and you slowly turn your head to look at him, finding understanding and care in his features. Your heart was in your throat as you felt the blood flow even more towards your cheeks. You looked down at your fingers again, playing with one of your silver rings to distract yourself.
“Okay I– I um… I know there’s supposed to be… something else. When I kissed him, and it was a good kiss even, I just–”
“You kissed him?” Oh his own heart felt like exploding right now. He knew the vein in his forehead was about to pop off, but he didn’t care. He felt like a punch was delivered towards the side of his body, but he gulped the green vile forming, clenching tightly onto his knee again.
“Yeah– He kissed me first, and it was good, really good!” You weren’t looking at him, still down at your fingers so you weren’t able to see the redness that got into Eddie’s face as you said those words. “But… I didn’t– I expected… sparks? Or… Fire?” 
That got the green monster to vanish away from Eddie’s body. He gave a slow nod in thought as you explained, and he came to a simple conclusion, that he knew you weren’t experienced with it because you never felt it.
“You weren’t attracted to him.” You blinked at that with a confused frown on your face and finally looked up at him.
“But he was attractive.” You defend and he shakes his head at you with a soft smile on his face. 
“It doesn’t mean you will automatically be attracted to them. For example, Billy, you don’t find him attractive.” He frowned at his words in thought, and his brain turned its gears by itself, noticing you were still looking at him, without answering. “You’re not attracted to Billy, right?”
“Oh! No! I see him as a friend.” You replied in surprise and he smiled in return, his heart jumping in excitement at your answer. 
“Attraction has to do more with… a person. Sure, you can feel attracted to a guy who is attractive only by sight, but maybe when you get to know him, it’s not what you expected.” You frowned at that, tilting your head to the side to look towards the ground as your thoughts started processing in your head. 
Austin was perfect. He liked your music, pop, rock, some jazz probably, then the food, it was almost the same, except for your liking on putting fries on a milkshake, or anchovy pizza. Then the Harry Potter talk was smooth, charming, and it felt as if you were talking with…
With a friend.
“Oh…” Was all you managed to say and Eddie knew you finally understood the meaning of it. “Oh, that sucks, and I even shaved.” You slump again with a sigh, not even registering what you just said, until a second later you did. Your eyes went wide in realization, slowly turning to look at him whose mouth was open with a bewildered look in his face. 
Did you say you shaved? You, who had problems with kissing just two weeks ago, suddenly had the bravery of sleeping with someone on the first date? What happened in the past two weeks that he hadn’t noticed for you to suddenly become bold like that?
“I-I…” You were red in the face and the nerves were getting to you, so, the words started vomiting out of your mouth, without processing at all in your head. “I just been very needy lately, out of nowhere, and it never happened before, and I don’t know, maybe now that I can finally talk to guys, that need reappeared and it’s been so fucking long and I don’t know–” 
“Whoa, whoa, hang on, slow down, please.” He was overwhelmed by the sudden information you were giving to him and he was trying to process it all by closing his eyes to take a deep breath in. Needy. You were needy. And that is not doing good things to him right now. He is thinking of so many things in such a rushed pace that he cannot swallow it all down in one go. 
You looked down, biting the skin next to your nail on your thumb, trying to appease some of the nerves and the nausea that was whirling in your stomach, ready to get out and make an even more fool out of yourself. How could you just blurt that out to him? Why did you do that?
“F-Forget what I said– Please–” You made him snap out of his thoughts, with a shake of his head and even if his stomach was about to explode in a million pieces and he cursed at himself as the blood was starting to slowly rush south on him.
“Calm down, it’s fine, just– So, you thought that it would be a good opportunity to…” He didn’t even finish the words, not wanting to imagine the outcome of you actually going with that chance. You swallowed the big lump in your chest, but his eyes were looking into yours, looking for understanding, for you to try to explain yourself to him.
Making you feel safe.
“I– Yes… I just thought that… If I– slept with someone who I found attractive then… I would feel good…” And there it was. Eddie’s eyes saddened as you looked down at the floor again. You just confessed to him that in none of the times you were intimate with a man, you felt good. “I know they tried… I remember them trying, but, when you are not attracted to the person, your mind is not really– Not into it.”
And Eddie’s eyes flickered with something, a switch was pressed inside of him as he looked down at your frame, defeated, and thinking something was wrong with you. He didn’t want you to feel that way, not for a single second. His hands were burning as he raised one towards your thigh, pressing it gently on top. You shivered at the sudden touch, looking down at the rings that grasped your thigh.
“What you need to do is shut your brain. You think too much about what the other person is doing, and who the person is, when sometimes you don’t have to think of any of those things, because maybe those guys you’ve been with, at least one probably did a good job, but you were too caught up in your mind that you didn’t let yourself go with it.” He explained softly, as calmly as possible for you and your eyes widened slightly at that.
You’re always in your mind, even when you’re touching yourself. That’s why you never remember who you’re picturing or if you’re even imagining something at all, and maybe that’s why it takes you too long to finally reach that peak you look for. But how do you get out of your mind? How do you make it stop processing any kind of thought?
“I… I don’t know how to do that, Eds…” His eyes closed at the nickname, feeling the sweetness in his tongue at it. He bit the inside of his cheek as he opened his eyes again to look at you. His control was slowly slipping away, he knew it, because the idea that came to his head, the thought of it, the craziness of it, was driving him mad with desire. He was nervous to ask, he was nervous, for the first time in his life in making a move. But it could help you, that’s what he keeps repeating to himself.
Everything is in order to help you.
His hand on your thigh slowly raised up, getting hold of your jaw with his thumb and index finger, making you slowly turn to look at him, and your eyes widened at seeing him much closer than before. Your breathing was caught in your throat as he stared down at you, his lips slightly agape, and you could swear you could hear the beat of your heart bouncing at every wall in the room.
“Let me teach you Angel.” He softly said, and you froze.
Is he meaning what you think he is meaning? But friends don’t do this, friends are just friends like you were with Robin, Steve and Billy. Maybe he is just helping you, no, you’re sure he is just helping you. No other intention involved to that, and you have to push him away. You have to say no, you have to deny it, you have to reject it, because there’s no possible way he would willingly do this.
But there was a fog in his pupils, something you don’t think ever saw before, not when men looked at you, but Eddie it’s not the first time you’ve seen it. You wondered if your eyes looked the same, if your eyes were showing him that feeling you cannot describe by yourself, that desire you had been feeling of wanting more. 
“I’ll help you shut your mind off. So… Please– Please let me make you feel good.”
Your heart almost stopped beating at his words. 
He was begging and he knew that, but if he didn’t have a taste of you now, in any way, his mind was going to fail him. He was sure he was gonna go crazy if he couldn’t touch you, whether be with his fingers, with his palms, with a graze of his arm against yours, or with his lips. 
His lips were inching closer to you, but you knew that without approval he was not going to kiss you. Because it was Eddie. Eddie who’s always been careful with you. Eddie who made you laugh on stressful days at work. Eddie who also came to you for his own bad days. Eddie who always makes you feel safe no matter what you’re doing or where you are.
And you wanted more. More since that night. More since his lips touched yours days ago, counting the hours and minutes to feel something like that again. It was just the feeling of it you wanted, that’s what you kept telling yourself, what you KEEP telling yourself just to save it all. Just to save this line. A line that if you crossed, you might end up hurt.
But right now, his words are the only thing that you could think about. And you felt it. You felt what you were seeking with Austin, what you couldn’t feel, what you felt in the living room, what you felt by yourself in your room.
Burning.
You gave him a short and slow nod, something he really was not expecting, but he wasn’t going to question you on it. He was going to be greedy, he knew this, he knew he was being selfish, but can you blame him? You were on his bed, wearing a short black dress, your shoulder exposed for him to bite on, your skin glistening for him to kiss it, your neck decorated with a thin golden necklace, which also had a sweet scent emanating from it.
So he leaned down, his palm pressing on your cheek, pulling you into him, pressing his lips against yours, once again. Your heart was elated, gleaming with excitement and happiness and your brain had to work again, despite the haziness and despite the turning of your stomach, and you returned the kiss.
Your hands twitched on your knees, wanting to grab onto him, wanting to touch him, wanting him to be closer and you didn’t know if you should. As his lips moved with yours, you felt yourself moving closer to him, just one single scooch, just one simple movement that impulsed him, eager, to hold your other cheek with his free hand, cradling you in them.
You felt his fingers sliding a bit towards the back of your head, his fingertips on your nape, sending electricity to places you never felt before. Your blood was rushing to your ears, but you could still hear the smacking of your lips in the room, and even if your mind was telling you to be embarrassed, that you should be, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel it. Because the way he was kissing you, the feeling he was igniting in you, was way bigger than your nerves, than your embarrassment, than your bashfulness. 
He ran his tongue on your bottom lip, and this time you didn’t even hesitate to allow his entrance. He groaned into your mouth as his tongue touched yours, and that sound must have been the most amazing thing you’ve ever heard in your life, and he was just kissing you. Was that a good sign? Was he feeling the burning you were feeling as well?
He couldn’t stop tasting you, he couldn’t stop kissing you, you were addicting, like the ambrosia the gods had promised, and he didn’t believe he would ever get enough of it. Of you. He definitely can’t get enough of you, it was not possible. Your tongue was shy, but soft, following his movements, making him go crazier each second the kiss turned even more heavier than before.
He pulled away slowly, to your dismay, because you wanted to keep kissing him, not realizing your thighs were clenching together as your hands gripped onto your skin. He inspected you for a second, his breath a little heavy as he pressed a peck to your lips again, and you were surprised by that gentle touch, until his next kiss was on your cheek. Then, he kissed your jaw, all sweet and soft kisses but that were burning you in every possible good way.
His hands went away from your cheeks, and one rested on the back of your head, gently gripping on your hair to pull your neck back, making your eyes go wide and your stomach turn with a sudden flip. He noticed how you tensed at the movement and he was going to tell you to stop, that he will back off. But he was selfish, so fucking selfish.
“Don’t think… Close your eyes Angel, and let yourself feel.” And with that, he pressed a soft, nervous kiss on your pulse point. That was enough to send a shiver down your spine, goosebumps emerging on your arms, and you knew you had to hold onto him. Your hand shot to the back of his head, and he was surprised that you were touching him right now, yet, a smile appeared on his lips and he hoped you couldn’t feel it, glad you couldn’t see it. 
Because that would give him away.
He pressed another kiss on your neck, this time more firmly, tasting your perfume in his tongue, making him go even madder than before, the small string of his self control ready to snap. Your mind was a jumbled mess, but the burning was unbearable now. It was all over your body, but it was even more intense on where he was kissing. 
He tested the waters, by nibbling once and gently on your skin, and he felt you shiver, moving him slightly in response. Oh he was loving your reactions to him. He has to make you feel good. He has to. He needs to. Because his imagination of how you would react to him touching you, worshiping you, caring for you, was making him even more desperate to have you.
Your mind was slowly turning hazy as you felt him suddenly sucking on your pulse point, and that made a small moan get caught in your throat, vibrating against his lips. And that was it for Eddie. His free hand finally raised from his knee, to move towards your exposed one, gently touching it with his fingertips first, before his palm fully rested on top of it.
Your thighs clenched again and he noticed. He was making you feel like this, he was making you tremble slightly, by the grace of his lips, by his touch, and, god, he needed more. His hand started moving up and you felt everything you felt an hour ago, but this time, it heightened because of the kisses he was leaving on the skin of your neck.
His fingertips were on your thigh and he pressed them tentatively against your skin, and you jumped slightly at the pressure. Your eyes were closed as you felt him suck on your neck again, but a little lower this time. His lips moved closer to your collarbone, leaving a gentle yet scorching kiss there, and you gasped when you felt him bite where your bone would be. 
He was holding his own groans back, and he knew you would be able to see the growing hardness in his pants. He didn’t want you to think this was about him, no, this was all about you, on teaching you to enjoy yourself, teaching you how to feel, teaching you that anyone can make you feel good.
That HE can make you feel good.
He pulled away from you and you almost whined at the loss of contact, missing his warm breath against your skin but he had to check on you, know if you wanted to keep moving forward with him. He gulped when you looked down on him, half lidded eyes that were almost lost in the sensations he just gave you. He wanted to smirk to himself, a victory in his chest forming at seeing you coming undone under his hands.
“You alright darling?” His voice was low, sending a chill down your body, almost trembling in his hands as he held you. You wanted to kiss him again, you wanted him to kiss your neck again, you wanted more. You gave him a slow nod and he had to even out his breath so you wouldn’t notice his excitement. “Come here.” 
He got on the bed, sliding towards the head of it, to sit against his headboard with his legs open, flexing his knees. Your eyes widened when you saw him like that, but you were magnetized to him, as if you were in a drunken state. He patted his inner thigh, motioning you to go to him and that you did, crawling on all fours towards him and he almost moaned, literally moaned at that sight. 
He was going crazy about you, he knew that, every move you made was like a stab in his heart, in his groin, just any part of his body, and when you were crawling like that, he was even more afraid of what he could possibly do. Of what he was capable of doing. But he cared too much about you, that’s why, he is only helping you for now.
Your eyes were trained on his and when you finally arrived in front of him, he held your shoulders to turn you around, making you sit in between his legs, your back almost pressing against his chest. Your legs were tight together, straight in front of you. Your stomach was almost hurting from the amount of knotting that was happening, and you were afraid of popping your liver or something. It was too straining.
“Now, here’s what I want you to do Angel…” He pushed your hair away from your right shoulder, and you trembled when you felt his lips press on your bare skin, goosebumps raising on your arms as you listened to him. His right hand came to press onto your thigh again, grazing it with his fingertips. “I want you to fully disconnect from your brain.”
“Eddie–” Doubt was starting to fill in your head again, the line being there, the line that you don’t want to cross, and the line that you don’t want to break because of this. 
“No, no… Don’t think. Just feel, heighten your sense of touch…” He started tracing his fingers upwards on your thigh, shivers being sent towards your legs as you looked down at his movements. His lips were suddenly pressed in between your shoulder and neck, making you gasp as his other hand, pressed on the other side of your neck, tilted your head to the side to give him more access to your skin.
His right hand pressed more firmly against your skin now, slowly trying to get in between your thighs. You felt suddenly a wave of heat rush through you, your skin burning from how flustered you suddenly got and he noticed once again by how you tense your shoulders.
“I– I don’t know–” But you wanted to. You wanted to know, but your head was working again, unlike a few minutes ago. He shook his head slightly, whispering low into your ear, his breath hitting just right to make you almost whimper and tremble at the feeling. 
“Feel me. Feel me touching your skin, feel my lips on your neck, the sensation it causes. Don’t think about me, just feel.” And his hand finally nudged in between your thighs as he pressed a kiss right below your ear, making a moan get trapped in your throat again. He pulled you flush against his chest now, as his hand started pushing your leg open.
The knots in your stomach went crazy now, thinking of what he was doing, feeling the fire on his fingertips. He was spreading your legs open, and that made you realize that the heat was below. It had always been deep in your belly, yearning, wanting, desiring. The need you’ve been feeling all this time was multiplied by a hundred right now, and you wanted it to be over, because it was unbearable.
So, you helped him, by spreading your legs open, your knees hitting his as you pulled them up. 
He smirked as he glanced down, feeling you breathing heavily against him. This was it, you were trusting him, completely giving yourself to him, and he had to make a decision. He could stop, he could go back to just being a friend that helps here and there, but no more than that, not this.
Or he could keep being selfish.
He sucked on your sweet spot, making you groan slightly, but it was a way to distract you from when his fingers started caressing your inner thigh. Soft, grazing his fingertips, giving a soft press as he felt your legs move slightly at his touch. 
“Can I make you feel good?” He whispered against your skin, for just one last approval, because even if he had his own desire, his own selfishness, greediness, you were always going to be first. Always putting you first, above all. You let out a content breath, knowing this, knowing he was caring for you. You gave a final nod, and that’s all he needed.
He raised the hem of your dress even more, because it had moved up when he was touching your inner thighs, but he needed more access. He slowly moved his hand as his lips nibbled on your shoulder, until he finally felt the lace of your underwear, and his eyes almost widened when he pressed a bit more onto it.
You were wet. Completely, and for him.
He took a deep breath in, trying to not think about how painful his hard on was in his pants, and finally cupped you through your underwear, making you gasp and almost jerk out of his grasp. It wasn’t even a full on touch, it was soft, and gentle, yet it had provoked a feeling inside of you that was too intense, but you needed more, god, you needed more.
Desperately.
“Eddie– Please…” And he couldn’t believe the words leaving your mouth, because you were asking him to go forward, asking him to move faster, and he was going to comply. He wanted nothing more than to please you, fully, entirely, until you couldn’t breathe normally.
He finally started tracing circles against your clothed clit, slow, small, and you tilted your head back, eyes closed, resting against his shoulder. Your breathing became more erratic as you felt his lips against your neck again, his tongue licking on your skin as his movements became faster, one of your hands raised to cover your mouth so that the moans wouldn’t come out, while the other was gripping onto his thigh tightly.
“No, nothing of that.” He took his hand away from your neck to grab onto the wrist that was over your mouth. You gasped at his actions, wanting to hold back on your noises and he raised his lips against your ear again, grazing them against the skin now. “Letting go means your voice as well.”
You were never vocal, you didn’t even know if they were nice, or if they were just horrible and embarrassing, but all thought was cut off when you felt his fingertips on the edge of your underwear, pulling the elastic up so they could move under the fabric. Your heart stopped when you felt him, raw, against your clit, and you let out the first small moan out of your lips, almost a whimper.
And Eddie lost it.
He attacked your neck again, this time, more forcefully than before as his index and middle finger started circling on your bud, wanting to hear more of those moans, wanting to feel you move against him even more, wanting you to completely lose yourself. You were wet, too perfectly wet for him, and he was trying really hard to keep a straight mind but it was becoming a losing battle with each moan that came out of your mouth.
He ran his fingers down, through your wet folds and you gave a breathy sigh, your chest trembling at the sensation of it. You never felt this, not even with yourself, because you never really cared to explore. You just put on the vibrator on your clit and waited, and waited, but recently you didn’t have to wait much, for the past few weeks, your climaxes came quicker than before.
He coated his fingers in your slick, wetting them properly as he kissed under your ear again to keep your sensations going all over the place. He wanted to touch your breasts as well, he wanted to see them, he really needed to pull your dress down, but he knew that would take this whole thing somewhere else, and even if he desperately wanted to, he was keeping his word on just making YOU feel good.
Your eyes widened when you felt his middle finger slowly thrusting inside of you, making way, spreading you gently, but it was enough for you to arch your back slightly, wanting more of it, more of the friction it was bringing and Eddie smirked against your skin at your reaction. He started moving, slowly, in and out, testing how you moved and reacted, but then your moans increased a little bit in volume. 
He didn’t care about the people in the living room, not right now. The only person he cared about right now, was you, entirely you, and as he curled his middle finger inside of you, your eyes closed once more, letting the sensation take over you as he touched a place you never felt before, you never thought that could be achieved. 
“Oh, god–” You moaned out, and Eddie groaned against your shoulder, his pace increasing slightly as he felt your warm walls engulfing him, sucking him in, yearning for more, so he complied once again, and got his ring finger inside as well. 
Your belly was on fire as you felt the sudden stretch, and you couldn’t help it, you really couldn’t, you wanted more and more, so you met the thrusting of his fingers with your hips, making them go even deeper inside of you, your moans now coming out of your mouth loud, and breathless.
“Fuck–” Eddie couldn’t help but curse at the feeling of you, arching your back against him, and he wondered if you could feel him. If you could feel the throbbing bulge that was on his jeans, rubbing against you. If you kept doing it, he was going to finish in his pants, he knew it, but he didn’t care. He really didn’t care.
His fingers curled upwards again, and now he wasn’t thrusting in and out any more, but actually pressing the palm of his hand against your clit, while his fingers were still inside, and his movements started going up and down. Your mouth fell open as he started hitting that part of you no one has ever touched before, while rubbing your clit, your eyes widening at the sensation and your nails dug into his clothed thigh.
He told you to not think of him, but his sweet scent was on your nostrils, his lips were on your skin, his breath was on your ear, but it didn’t stop you from feeling. It didn’t stop you from letting go either. In fact, knowing it was him, knowing that his fingers were doing things you never thought anyone could do to you, and knowing he was the one making you feel good, was making you desperate, and you were loving every second of it.
Your eyes started seeing stars, clouding your vision in white, and your stomach was tightening on itself as your legs trembled in anticipation of your incoming climax. He could feel it, your walls clenching on his fingers, driving him mad, absolutely insane. His pace quickened as he bit onto your neck softly, giving it a kiss afterwards as your moans filled the room. But you almost made him freeze in place because he had not expected to hear it, because he had told you to not think of him, yet–
“Eddie– Eddie, please–” You were moaning his name, begging him to help you with your release, begging him to keep going, and he couldn’t take it anymore, letting go of your hand, with his arm wrapped around you, taking your jaw in his hand, turning your head so he could kiss you, passionately, desperate for your moans to fill his mouth.
Your moans flew immediately into his throat, growing even louder, hiding the wet noises he was provoking with the movement of his fingers, kissing him, making your release want to explode even quicker than before, heightening the feeling.
Your breaths became short gasps as your belly finally exploded, your walls clenching around his fingers and your back arched completely into his hand. He didn’t let go of your face, holding you tightly so you wouldn’t move away, swallowing your moans and whimpers, a moan of his own mixing with yours at the feeling. 
Your eyes had tears from the overwhelming sensation as he slowed his pace with his fingers, feeling you slowly unclench, helping you ride the last bit of your orgasm out, until you finally relaxed against him again. He pulled away from the kiss, but kept his face close to you as you rested your head against his shoulder, your nose in the crook of his neck. 
Your breathing was heavy and your mind was a complete mess. You never felt like that in your life, in any sense or any way, but maybe you had an idea of why that was. He slowly pulled his fingers out of you, your trembling legs finally falling down, splayed on the bed this time. He had let go of your jaw and wrapped his arm around you to keep you close to him, not caring any longer if you felt him.
He looked at the glistening of his fingers and clenched his eyes against the desire of tasting you, wiping them against his comforter. He was also breathing heavily, from all the emotions he felt in past minutes, or hour. He never felt that good pleasuring someone else, never in his life, always waiting for the other to reciprocate. 
This time, he didn’t need to. He didn’t want you to. He just wanted you to feel good, by him, and him only. He opened his mouth to talk to you, but felt the soft breaths against his neck, and the raising and falling of your chest. You had fallen asleep on him. 
He couldn’t help the smile that came to his face, his hand still wrapped around your frame as it guided itself up, cradling your head against his shoulder. He turned his head and he even surprised himself with his action, pressing a kiss at the top of your head.
But then, a frown came to his face. He had crossed the line. You two had crossed the line. He wondered what everything would be like after this, how you would be like after what just happened. Would you act like nothing has happened? His heart pained at that thought, his stomach turning as he thought, and thought, and when you mumbled his name against his skin, sleepily, he chuckled softly, shaking his head at himself.
There was no way he was going to act as if nothing happened.
Everything happened.
And he wanted more.
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End of part 5
A/N: Yes, I did imagine Austin Butler for this. Sue me. I hope you all enjoyed this part! There's more to come, angst coming your way bby. I know it was long BUT PLEASE REMEMBER THAT A REBLOG KEEPS THE FIC ACTIVE
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princessbrunette · 11 months ago
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Sunshine!Reader just adores rafe. like i imagine she’s a friend of sarah who has always had a crush on her cool older brother, following him around and watching his every move cs she’s so obsessed with him x rafe who is nonchalant at his very core & basically just ignores her presence even when she’s practically hanging off his arm & living in his skin. “Why is it that everytime i turn around, you’re there?” he just raises his eyebrow at her. “i’m not your friend, kid.” - 🍄
no bc im salivating …….. hang on let me cook
₊˚🦢✩ 🎀⊹☁️♡
sunshine!reader who’s always at the cameron home because her home life is bad— more specifically, daddy issues !! it’s a wonder how you’re so sweet n happy toward the people around you when you’re being treated so poorly!
you follow rafe around like a lost puppy, because duh — his nonchalance hurts you in all the right ways that just makes you crave his attention more, a product of your bad relationship with your father. you’re over at tannyhill more and more, increasingly without sarah being there as she starts a life with the pogues— but you don’t mind, happy anywhere as long as you’re not at home.
“are you goin’ anywhere today rafe? can i come?” you seemingly pop out of nowhere in the kitchen, startling him as he closes the fridge— clutching his chest for effect.
“jesus, why is it everytime i turn around you’re there? ‘you ever go n’hang around at your own house or what?” he busies himself, carrying a carton of juice in one hand and moving you out the way with the other as he passes.
“i prefer to be here! hanging out with you!” you chirp and he stops in the doorway, turning to look at you.
“kid, i’m not your friend. a’ight?” he drawls before heading out, the same time his father is entering the room. ward sends you a sympathetic look before he’s trailing after rafe.
“son you gotta be nice to the girl. i didn’t raise you like that.” he nags, speeding up to walk in time with the younger man.
“why? she’s practically living rent free here, should be able to talk to her how i want.” rafe complains, uncapping the carton and taking a swig.
“her home life, it’s not great.” he lowers his voice, swivelling his head round to make sure you weren’t lurking. “she’s — she’s sarah’s friend. i’m taking pity on her, think her dad doesn’t treat her all too well.” he rambles and rafes movements slow to stop, eyes trailing up to meet his fathers, suddenly attentive.
“huh.” he speaks, sinister intrigue occupying his gaze which his father barely picked up on. he continued speaking but rafe had heard all he needed to hear, concocting ways to use this to his advantage.
the opportunity presented itself sooner than he was expecting once he’d got you backed up against the wall in the hallway a few days later, practically pinning you there.
“you— you know it’s time you start respecting me if you wanna be hangin’ out around here. especially now my dads on his trip. i’m older than you, the man of the house now and — and that means you answer to me.” he drawls, quiet and intimate— so close his breath warms your face as you blink up at him.
“i do listen to you rafe.” you chime, losing a little bit of pep in your step under his intimidating gaze. you knew something was up, but you couldn’t help but melt — finally feeling like rafe gave a shit about you. that he was going to save you.
“wanna see you actin’ like it from now on… you know i realised,” his finger comes to his temple, lightly tapping. “you’re missin’ something. someone to guide you. an authority figure… ‘nd it must be your lucky day ‘cus i can be just that. you’ll… be in good hands.” he now drags his finger lightly down the side of your face, scooping round to beneath your chin to lift it.
“i thought you said you didn’t wanna be my friend.” you whisper, eyes flickering between his mouth and his eyes, the proximity tempting.
“didn’t say we would be friends… i was thinking something a little more… hands on.” his drops his voice to a mere whisper, hovering his lips right over yours. you give in to the urge, craning up and pressing your lips against his, which he lets slide for maybe two seconds — before drawing back and slapping you, grabbing your jaw instantly to bring your gaze back.
you gasp, tears springing to your eyes, usual smile wiped from your expression even more so now. “you don’t… you don’t do that without my permission. alright? i said you answer to me now.” he grits his teeth, squeezing your jaw just a little harder making your brows furrow in fear.
he ends up not being too mean on you, especially when you’re later cumming around his cock, the oldest cameron forcing you to call him ‘dad’ whilst you do so.
₊˚🦢✩ 🎀⊹☁️♡
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williamkisser · 5 months ago
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A Luca x reader would be nice........... preferably slow burn and y/n is the shy type............. I'm hungry................. Thirsty............ Would beg....... Thank you.... *dying*
♡— The Prisoner with a shy S/O
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♡— Oh my god… anon… N-N… NO!!!! Anon please, don’t do this to me… breathe. Oh my god. BREATHE!! *sniff* *sob* i’m… I’m so sorry i couldn’t save you, anon…. I hope you’re in a better place now… *sob*
♡— Warnings: g/n reader, fluff, possibly ooc i’m not sure, word count is 1400
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♡— Luca Balsa, despite going through a turmoil of tragic events, never did once even try to stop working on his lifelong passion, god forbid even think of it. Yes, around him there were degenerates, murderers, thieves, even mystical, strange creatures - such combinations would drive any man crazy, as if anyone in here already wasn’t. But after all, finding something you could get absorbed in is the best method for killing time, don’t they say? Not even his developing issue with memory loss can stop him now.
♡— That’s why the prisoner, most of the time, could be found in the comfort of his own dorm, sitting by the desk while brain storming for yet another solution to the new experiment he was currently developing. And to be frank, he did quite like it this way. He had his own corner in the world, didn’t need to worry about money, could eat delicious meals and could even discuss some scientific matters with a few other enlightened individuals. And the prize for winning the game was even more tempting. Just imagine how much quicker he could develop his project with all this cash.
♡— Despite all the focus on his own dreams and scientific infatuations, Luca didn’t stray from engaging in interactions with other people. He’s certainly considered as one of the friendliest and most cheerful people in here. Some wonder if anyone im here ever managed to get on his nerve. He’s just very tolerable towards most, if not all, however, clearly he feels most comfortable near people who are willing to listen to his info-dumps, or engage in smart conversations, ask questions and give suggestions. There weren’t much residents in the manor like this. Most are either uninterested or too weirded out, therefore the prisoner always appreciated the open minded ones.
♡— Sadly, Luca’s past whereabouts left a permanent scar on him, making him a little unaware to some social cues. This man can not pick up on someone being painfully visibly attracted to him. He assumes all people willingly interacting with him are either friendly or just curious. Luca likes showing off and exchanging ideas with his mentor Alva, asking Helena for advice and letting her touch all of his tools or projects, trying to connect nature with science together with Luchino, or even explaining his ideas to the suspiciously fascinated Florian.
♡— And then there was you. A person very shy, awkward even. Everyone didn’t mind your presence, you just existed in your own bubble, in silence. Sometimes, someone would try to include you in some conversation, and while you did appreciate the gesture you just couldn’t grasp why you felt so uncomfortable, barely able to form a meaningful sentence. That was until you first encountered a young, quite charming in his own way man personally. You instantly became fond of Luca Balsa. Something about him just radiated pure happiness. He genuinely wanted to talk with you, sensing your anxiety, and you have no idea whether it’s for better or worse, because, oh God - he made you feel butterflies in your stomach and needles in your heart. You’ve got a crush on the Oletus manor’s „Prisoner”.
♡— You didn’t know what to do. The newly discovered feelings for the boy made your anxiety far more intense than it already was. Something in your head just screamed to not get too attached, after all, this is Luca Balsa we’re speaking of, he most likely doesn’t view you as anything else but a companion in matches. But, of course, the heart always does whatever it wants, ignoring the brain. That’s how you found yourself standing in front of his dorm doors, reflecting on if it’s alright for you to knock on them. What if he’s too busy right now and you’re just going to be a burden? This was a part of your mastermind plan - try to get into his interests and become a closer friend, and then…. maybe the friendship could bloom onto something else? You were in deep wonder, unaware that the doors are now open and Luca was waving his hand in front of your face. Earth to you.
♡— Either way, you spent some quality time with him together. He was very pleased to hear that you wanted to find out more about his projects and shared several insights related to his future plans. His dorm felt oddly cozy. You didn’t even realize that visiting Luca became some sort of a habit of yours, entering his workplace nearly on a daily basis - it made you forget about all the atrocities you witnessed during the bloody games. His voice was so soft and gentle, his eyes beamed as you kept asking questions about what is he doing right now. Luca felt so glad to elaborate and ramble about his passion. He’d even offer you to help him, giving you simple tasks as asking you to bring a certain tool. He was well aware of your shyness, so he was as understanding as he could, not forcing anything onto you. One day, Luchino teasingly called you „Luca’s little assistant”. The intense colour of your cheeks spoke for itself. You were head over heels.
♡— Quickly enough, your small acts of kindness turned into something way more serious. At one point, you felt like Luca’s own caretaker, because he was literally too absorbed in his work to pay attention to his own well-being. After you began frequently assisting him in not only helping to build some programs, you just took care of his needs. While Luca would love to stay up all night and didn’t like when people complained about it, oddly enough, he didn’t hesitate to tuck himself into his bed after you offered the prisoner too. You made sure he went outside and ate enough. Simple gestures like that were your own way of showing him affection, as you were too shy to be verbally affectionate.
♡— The whole situationship was now taking way too long. You were absolutely crazy over Luca, while he viewed you as a good friend and a fast learning companion. Everyone could tell you were following him like a lost puppy outside of matches, and he didn’t mind it at all. You just wished he would finally pick up on your real intentions, but at the same time you felt worried. What if he won’t talk to you anymore? What if there will be weird tension between the both of you if you confess? On one ordinary day, you were sitting by his desk as always, silently reading the notes hanged on the cork board while Luca came to you and asked to help him draw a technical sketch in his work notebook, to which you agreed to. After months of practice in his dorm you already knew how to properly draw a project on a piece of paper with accurate proportions - yet this certain sketch was new to you, you weren’t quite sure how to do it. That’s when Luca held your hand and guided it, helping you be more precise, and what an amazing, ecstatic feeling it was, his hand contained a specific, electric even, feeling on top of that. You blushed so hard you were surprised Luca didn’t even notice, but you knew you can’t be with him this way. You were hurting yourself by not telling the truth.
♡— This is how you found yourself sitting on Lucas’s desk, looking down and fidgeting with your fingers after telling the prisoner to listen for a minute. The whole thing was so stressful you can barely remember anything from that moment, not sure if it’s because of your own anxiety or if it’s the curse of this wicked place you’re stuck in. Either way, your confession to him was probably the most awkward one this Manor has ever seen - and it certainly saw a lot. Luca was surprised he didn’t manage to connect the dots for so long. He was focused on all the wrong things and failed to notice your affection towards him. Those were a few painful months, but he was going to make sure you know he appreciates all the help, not only on the projects, but also helping him take care of himself. Luca asked you for permission to kiss you while holding your hand, which you agreed to, feeling happy like never, making all your shyness go away for once… which did not last long, as Florian entered the room without knocking, making a loud „EWW” sound. Luca was going to make sure no one will interrupt you, scribbling something about a doorbell in his notebook right after kissing you like his life depended on it. Turns out, Luca Balsa now has found something to look forward to in his life other that science and innovative inventions - which was you.
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Thank you for your request anon… i hope you can read this fic in the afterlife at least… anyways this my first time writing a fic for a character i’m not very familiar with. I tried to be as accurate as i could so i’m sorry if it’s ooc 😭 anyways it’s 2am now… idv x reader tag how are you doing on this lovely summer night
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hello-there · 3 days ago
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Communities are a new way to connect with the people on Tumblr who care about the things you care about! Browse Communities to find the perfect one for your interests or create a new one and invite your friends and mutuals!
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everydayyoulovemeless · 8 months ago
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Hi! If you are still taking requests, I'd love a head cannon with marrying the companions at the castle, and how they would feel? Thank you for considering this! ❤️
Marrying the Fo4 Companions at the Castle
➼ Word Count » 1.7k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Romantic ➼ A/N » I didn't add Codsworth because I couldn't stop thinking about Nate/Nora dying and then their spouse remarrying their butler. Felt too awkward😭
MacCready never imagined that he'd ever find someone who would love him as much as Lucy did and still know of his entire past. It makes him hopeful that Duncan could actually get a second partner to rely on in the future. He's never been too close with any of the Minutemen but, I imagine if he had to pick he'd choose them as his preferred faction. So, being married at the Castle wouldn't be an issue for him, but he'd get married just about anywhere as long as it meant you'd be the one he got to marry. It's one of the only times he doesn't intentionally pick a fight with Preston as he desperately wants his help with making him look his best. He knows he won't steer him wrong, since he's so close to you. He's so fidgety and nervous, but couldn't be more thrilled to devote the rest of his life to you.
Nick doesn't mind getting married at the Castle. If you'd asked him, he would've suggested the All Faiths Chapel, but in hindsight, the Castle seems a tad more appropriate for the two of you. Especially, when you consider that most of your loved ones are either already there or close enough in range to reach it safely. He cleans himself up quite nicely for the occasion, having Sturges help polish off his body's more visible aspects. He's a sucker for vintage weddings, and if you could somehow convince either Strong or a group of Minutemen soldiers to move one of those old cars into the venue, he'd consider proposing to you all over again.
Cait couldn’t care less where you two got married. She’s just glad that she’s going to marry you at all. Even if the Minutemen get on her nerves, she can’t help but find herself teary-eyed at the thought that you love her enough to even want to marry her. Even if it's almost certain that she's going to get into an argument of some sort with one of the faction members, she's still going to do her best to get along with everyone at the venue and make it fun for the both of you. She's never been a big fan of weddings and would prefer it if you only invited a small number of people, but besides that, she'll do her best to be as vulnerable with you as she possibly can on this day. Her being completely upfront and honest with you about how she feels is the least she could do after everything you've both been through together. It's the most emotional you have ever, and probably will ever see again.
There aren't many places at the Boston Airport that make sense to use for a venue so, Danse understands why the Castle is where you'd want to hold it. Even if they aren't Brotherhood, Danse still holds a lot of respect for the Minutemen soldiers and wouldn't mind playing nice if it meant making this day more memorable for you. He might even come to find that him and Sturges have a lot more in common than he initially thought. With them both being interested in power armor and whatnot. Danse is sorta like a puppy when it comes to these things, anywhere you want to go and anything you want to do, he's fully on board with. The location doesn't matter to him, as long as he's able to slip a ring on your finger. He's mainly just glad to be apart of your life in such a meaningful way and he hopes it'll stay that way for a long time to come.
Preston couldn't be happier to share this moment with you in a place he holds in such high regard. Especially since everyone he cares about is right here with you both in this moment. There’s nowhere more perfect in his mind and he’s overjoyed to be able to marry you despite the world being so tainted. It makes him that much more determined to defend the Commonwealth knowing that there are people like you still living in it. He does everything in his power to make the day go as smoothly as you could ever hope. He doesn't rest until the venue looks just as you described it to him, every little detail you dreamed about to him set in stone before your big day. Nothing is out of place, and he can't wait to see your expression when you see the effort he put into it all.
Piper had always been too enamored in her work to really consider a day when she'd get married to someone. She surprises herself when she agrees to commit herself to you for the rest of her life but, she supposes it's a welcomed one. The Castle would not have been her first choice when thinking of places to get married. If it were up to her, she would've picked somewhere on the coast. So, the two of you compromise and do it just outside the Castle on the sandy parts of the territory. She finds it to be much nicer on the outskirts, especially with the soft sound of the waves in the background. Nat makes the perfect flower girl for the occasion and she makes sure you're feeling more laid-back about the day rather than stressed. A light-hearted, casual wedding on the beach is all she could ever want.
Curie is so excited to wear a white dress! She’s read about this ritual before, but being able to partake in it is something she finds lovely! She couldn't care less where it happens, as long as the two of you can make it as accurate to the pre-war version as you can. She'll spend hours rambling to the Minutemen soldiers about all sorts of different topics out of being so nervous, but luckily for her, they're kind enough to just let her talk. Being able to experience something that holds such high importance to couples helps her to feel more human in her new body. There are so many different things she wants to do to further implement her as a person, and what better way to start than by getting married?
Strong doesn’t want to get married. It didn’t seem to work out all that well with Macbeth, so why would he want that for himself? Can’t you be a unit together without all your weird human rituals? Besides, there's no way anyone would ever get him into a classier outfit.
Hancock would’ve preferred to have married you in Goodneighbor since it's his home and everyone he planned to invite is there. But he's honestly so head over heels for you that he’d marry you in the glowing sea if that’s what you desired. He'll just ask to have two weddings instead of one, that way both of your 'families' can witness it without it being too much of a hassle. He's actually kinda glad your first wedding will be held at the Castle because he can't tie a tie to save his life, and Preston is way nicer about it than anyone in Goodneighbor would be. This way, he can learn and not be teased about it every time he walks into his own town, and Preston promises to keep his secret for him.
Deacon feels uncomfortable about getting married in front of everyone. He’d rather you go somewhere where it’s only you two and slide a ring on each other's fingers after saying your vows. No crowd, no long tradition. He's really nervous about the wedding, especially since it's being held in a place that means so much to you and to everyone else in the Minutemen. He wants to make this special, but his fear of being vulnerable is slowly killing him. He's so afraid that he'll get to the front of the makeshift alter and make a fool of himself. He's so shaky that you almost have to go over and ask how he's doing. He'll do it for you, just know he's having a few drinks beforehand to encourage his more charismatic side out of him. If that doesn't prove his love for you, I don't know what does.
X6-88 would hate it but would be surprisingly quiet about it for your sake. He thinks the Castle is disgusting, and he doesn’t particularly like the Minutemen, even if you are the general, but he wants this to be your day and so he’ll marry you where you want. The Institute would’ve been cleaner, and he could’ve arranged nicer decorations, but he supposes it doesn’t matter, as it’ll be him putting a ring on you either way. He can look forward to that, at least.
Old Longfellow would be pretty open about not wanting to get married there. He wants to compromise a little bit with you, as all of his closest friends are in Far Harbor and all of yours are in the Commonwealth. If anything he’d prefer to marry you in a place somewhere in the middle of those two places. You'll have to sit down with him and decide on a place that works for both of you and, if you can't find one, he has no issue just being with you. He's a firm believer in not needing to be married to prove your love for your partner. So, if that's how it ends up being, that's how it'll be.
Gage never imagined he’d ever get married, let alone at a Minutemen settlement. What were the odds? It’d take a lot of convincing to get Preston to agree to let you get married to a raider in the Castle. He gets slight flashbacks to Quincy at the thought of someone like him entering Minutemen territory so freely. But, as much as he disproves your relationship, he’ll let go of his grudge for the day so you two can get married. Security is amped up like crazy though. Gage personally doesn’t care where he gets married as long as it’s not in Nuka-World. The gang members aren’t too fond of the ritual and will begin to look down on both of you for participating in something so “classy”. It’s best if they don’t know.
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strniohoeee · 1 year ago
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chris and reader are fighting and he accidentally shoves her and she hits her back causing her to form a bruise and she cries because it hurts a lot and this leads to matt and nick to intervene and then angst and fluff
Bicker
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Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader
Synopsis: Chris and the reader seem to have a few disagreements. Sadly one argument leads to injuries that may not be fixable👥
Warnings⚠️: None, I like actually hate this….idk what’s going on lately, but I can notttt write for the life of me. I feel like I’m struggling to come up with good ideas for these requests.
Song for the imagine: Cry Me a River-Justin Timberlake
The bridges were burn
Now it’s your turn
To cry
Cry me a river
I wasn’t sure what Chris' issue was lately, but he has become insufferable. It was becoming a burden to hang out with them because of his attitude.
Chris and I weren’t the closest of friends like how Nick and I were, but we still spoke. However, him being in a pissy mood all the time was stressing me out.
I was hanging out with them all last week, and Chris and I kept arguing here and there. He was acting like a bitch and it became hard for me to be nice to him.
“No you were an asshole to the waiter” I said shaking my head at Chris
“I wasn’t at all” he said laughing
“Yes you were Chris. You acted like a spoiled brat” I replied
“I could really act like a spoiled brat” he said sitting up in his chair
“It’s so fucking embarrassing coming out with you. Like why do you act this way?” I asked him rubbing my temples
“I wasn’t acting any type of way, stop putting yourself in things that have nothing to do with you!” He said giving me a dirty look
“In case you haven’t noticed. You’ve been making this week painful for all of us, so lose the weird attitude or just stay home” I said shrugging my shoulders
“Please don’t tell ME what to do” he said taking a sip of his drink
“Oh cry me a river” I said rolling my eyes at him
That was the end of our bickering. Often exchanging dirty looks throughout our dinner, and not talking to each other. As I kept going over to their house though Chris and I would have at least two arguments a day. Then he would stomp down to his room and slam the door like a child, and ignore us for the rest of the day.
Just like today we had our first argument when I first got here because he left his sneakers in the driveway and I ran them over. I mean totally not my fault I didn’t see them.
He was ignoring me for that, but right now I wanted to make cookies for them and he was in my way. I kept my composure for a while, but I literally kept tripping over him
“Chris you need to get out of the kitchen” I said adding chocolate chips into the dough
“Why?” He said looking at me
“Because I keep tripping over you, and you’re in my way” I said looking at him
“I’m literally not in your way though” he said taking chocolate chips
“Yes you are, and you keep eating my ingredients you fucking heathen back off” I said smacking his hand away
“You’re such a bitch” he spat at me
“I literally do not fucking care get the fuck out” I said rolling my eyes at him
“There’s a nicer way to ask me to leave” he said smiling at me
“I asked you nicely now please get out” I said sighing
Chris snatched the bowl of dough from me and ran to the other side of the kitchen
“I’m not playing these childish games with you, give me the fucking dough” I said
“No I’m good” he said pushing me away and holding the bowl above his head
“I’ll fucking kick you in the balls right now” I said sticking my hand out for the bowl
“Not till you ask nicely” he said shrugging his shoulders
“Chris, I'm trying to do something for you and your brothers. I already asked you to leave and now you won’t. You’re so fucking annoying give me the bowl” I said
“Say please?” He asked
“Fuck you” I said
His face dropped and threw the bowl at me. I barely caught it
“Fucking dick” I said
Next thing I know off instinct I kicked him in the knee, and his face dropped
“You fucking bitch” he said and shoved me
But he shoved me so hard my back hit the sharp corner of the island in the kitchen and sent some things falling. Immediately losing my breath from the pain. I gasped and I couldn’t take a complete breath in
“What was that?” We heard Nick yell as him and Matt ran into the kitchen
“Christopher…..what the fuck is wrong with you” I said still shocked in pain
“Please I didn’t even push you that hard” he said
I felt tears in my eyes as I touched my back. A bruise for sure forming, and a large scratch
“I wanted to do something nice for you guys, and you fucking ruined it by acting like a complete imbecile” I said throwing the bowl down on the island
“Chris what did you do” Nick said walking over to me
“I pushed her” he said
“Are you a child? Like you’re a grown man, why would you push her?” Matt said looking over at him
“She kicked me in my knee, and I just turned around and pushed her….it was my reflex” he said staring at me blankly
“You’re such an asshole” I said pulling away from Nick as he looked at my back
I grabbed a frozen bag of peas from the freezer, slamming it shut and stomping past Chris shoving him on my way out.
I sat outside in their yard with the bag on my back as I let the tears fall. I was hurt and I was embarrassed.
Nicks POV
“Chris, what has gotten into you lately? Putting your hands on a girl?” I said staring at Chris
“I didn’t think it was that hard” he said
“Doesn’t fucking matter dude, you’re a grown man shoving people? Looks ridiculous” Matt said shaking his head
“You know what, whatever okay. She’s been barking at me all week and yall haven’t said shit” Chris said snapping
“Because you’ve been acting like a piece of shit. We agreed with her, and you still are so blind to it” I said
“You need to fix your attitude, and you need to fix what you just did to Y/N” Matt said
“I don’t need to do anything” Chris responded
“I’m not about to potentially lose a friend over your stupidity. Go apologize you animal” I said to Chris rolling my eyes at him
“Whatever kid” he said shoving past me
End of Nick's pov
I sat face down in a lawn chair as the peas soothed the ache in my back. My tears now dried as I listened to the crickets in the trees. My thoughts just running
Suddenly I heard the side door open and I figured it was Nick, but to my surprise when I turned my head, it was Chris and I looked at him and rolled my eyes
“Can we talk?” He asked me
“Gonna hit me with a lawn chair? Maybe throw me in the pool? Ouu how about throw the grill at me when I turn away?” I said giving him a sarcastic smile
“ No, I'm not going to do that. Actually came out here to apologize to you.” He said sitting in front of me
“ I don’t wanna hear an apology because I know it’s not real” I said to him
“ Whether you think it’s real or not doesn’t matter I’m going to apologize anyway” Chris said
“You could save yourself the embarrassment. I don’t want to talk to you” I said rolling my eyes
“Fucking listen to me already” he said getting annoyed
“No, okay! You really hurt me, and embarrassed me. I do not want anything to do with you” I said struggling to sit up
“ I know you hate me right now and I get that but please just listen. I’m not sure why I’ve been acting the way I’ve been acting but I’m just so sad and angry and lonely all the time and I let that get to my head and I let that affect you guys.” Chris said, looking down.
“Chris you don’t have to go through this alone you know. I know you might not like to talk about your feelings, but we’re all here for you” I said looking at him
“This just isn’t me. So I try to ignore it, but it doesn’t go away” he said shaking his head
“If you don’t address it, it will never go away. If it’s too awkward to talk to your brothers, just know that I’m always here for you, but not when you act like a piece of shit.” I said to him
“ I know, and I truly don’t deserve you after putting up with me for so long, just know that I’m sorry for putting my hands on you. It was the worst thing I could’ve ever done. Just know that this isn’t a reflection of who I truly am, I really am sorry for what I did.” Chris said looking up at me
“It’s fine” I said in a whisper
“It’s not okay. I hurt you really bad” he said shaking his head
“ Listen, what's done is done and there’s no going back. I may not forgive you right now, but I also cannot hold this against you.” I responded
“ I don’t expect you to forgive me and that’s fine but do know that I genuinely am sorry. I don’t even know what took over me. It’s like you kicked me and then a switch went off in my head and all I could do was put my hands on you.” He said
“ I can’t act innocent in this either because I did kick you and for that I’m sorry” I responded
“ yes, but I also didn’t have to push you” he said
“ Chris it’s fine I’m not gonna hold this against you” I told him
“I’m uhh I’m sorry. I’ll give you space” he said standing up
I nodded my head and looked at him
“Take this inside for me” I said handing him the bag of peas
“Sure” he said offering me a smile
“Chris there is one thing” I said as he gave his back to me
“That is?” He asked
“I’ll forgive you on one condition” I stated
“Go on” he said back still to me
“You rub my back and put healing ointment on my injury” I said giggling
“You have yourself a deal” he said looking over at me
“YAY” I said clapping my hands
I stood up and walked over to him
“Chris don’t beat yourself up over this okay. This was nothing” I said smiling at him
“I’m sorry” he said nodding his head at me
“It’s okay Chris” I said offering him a smile
“I need to do better” he said
“Yeah you do because right now I smell cookies. I’ll race you for it” I said
“You’re on” he said laughing
I smacked his chest and booked it into the house, locking the door behind me
“AHAHA YOURE TRAPPED OUTSIDEEEE” I said laughing
“LET ME IN” he said laughing
“Nooo I don’t think I will” I said laughing
“There’s a spare key out here I’ll get in” he said
“No there isn’t” I said
Chris disappeared from my site, and I strained against the glass looking for him. I hadn’t heard him walk in through the front door.
As my face was up against the glass I felt two hands grab me causing me to jump
“CHRIS” I yelled turning around
“You have got to do better” he said shaking his head
“I thought I had you” I said laughing
“Maybe next time” he said slinging his arm over my shoulder as we walked into the kitchen
It’s so weird how an hour ago I wanted to punch Chris in his head, but now we were laughing while eating cookies as he rubbed ointment on my injury and massaged my back….man I was living the good life
The End
This was actual trash….like idk why I can’t come up with good ideas anymore. I just lose motivation towards the end, and write whatever. I promise I’ll do better😭😭 I love yall🖤🖤
-J💅🏽
These stories are my own original ideas, so please do not post them without giving credit, or asking. ☺️
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probablyspooky · 3 months ago
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To the Stars (Yautja x kryptonian reader) P.2
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[Previous]
From across the lake , the crackling of fire, the smells of smoked meats. The campsite of human hunters, hunters who disobeyed the natural territory that belonged to your clan. Beings of selfishness, beings who desire one thing.
Power.
Miguel, a young lad finding his way in this world, sat at the edge of his camp, staring off into the wilderness. Sharpening a stick with his hunting knife because...well there isn't much else to do in this world.
Him and his family had traveled down from the Andes mountains in search of large game to return back home with. Much to Miguel's dismay, he'd rather be anywhere than watching the stupid trees.
Until he notices something, that something is you. You're nothing like the girls back home, in fact there's something... different about you. He watches as you bend down to fill a pot with water. He rises to his feet, and starts to walk towards the shoreline, but he stops. He notices the two large beasts that trail behind you.
Were they your captors? Were you their prisoner?
He rushes back into the campsite, begging everyone, anyone who could hear him to help the girl from the two monsters by the water. But when everyone got their rifles and their weapons, you were gone.
People muttered insults of 'uselessness' and a 'time waste' under their breaths as they left Miguel alone.
Frustrated with himself he crosses the water to the area where you once stood. Were you his imagination? Perhaps he just created the beasts in his head out of boredom...
Yet standing at the very riverbank where you filled your pot with water, there were three sets of prints.
Two human feet...and two pairs of large monstrous feet...
Returning home Ada and Sabre walked off to their separate homes with their pots overhead.
You turn to go to your home when you bump into Yidaar.
"Oh! Star child...I did not see you approaching," he says, looking down at you with his amber eyes.
"Yidaar!," you chirp, covering your mouth.
Yidaar was a young adult male, of grey skin, amber eyes, and long thick dreads that landed mid-backside
"Let me help you-"
"Yidaar as nice as that is, you know I have no issues carrying my own pot of water," you reply, walking past him
He quickens pace to catch up
"Think of it as a simple nice gesture, not like... you are too weak to carry it. I simply wish to be nice to you."
Before you can respond, the clacking of bones catches your attention as your adoptive father Pa'sa walks over, his necklace of trophies clinking together as his large stature makes his way over to the two of you.
"Yidaar..." he looks down at the young yautja
"Elder..." Yidaar gulped, stepping back
"Dad..." you say,
"[Y/N]..."
Crickets chirping
Yidaar clears his throat, and says his goodbyes as he quickly leave the two of you alone.
"So...you and Yidaar" Ps'sa smirks
"No!" you blush heavily
"I'm not opposed, I mean he is a valued warrior, top of his generation"
You grumble as you walk past your dad and head inside the cave, Pa'sa follows you closely behind
"I see you fetched the water for the day, did anyone see you?" he asks, coming over and watching you float up to put the pot on the high shelf after emptying it into the basin.
"No, we were careful, like always..." you grumble a bit into your tone.
"Do I hear...displeasure in your voice my child?" he clicks softly, tilting his head towards you.
Displeasure...of course your displeased. Since as long as you could remember, the mountains...the caves, and the woods that surround the base of the mountain is all you've known. You're not allowed to go past a certain point, you're not allowed to interact with humans. You are expected to be born here and die here if you're in this situation.
Something, apart of you wishes to go past the limits and explore, your body is able, you are strong enough. Yet one thing holds you back...
"Young one?"
Your father.
"Nothing father, honest" you reply quickly, returning to your room.
Pa'sa sighs, knowing your nature and your desire for adventure, yet he's worried of those who would exploit your gift, those who would use you as a weapon against those weaker, or even those you love.
The next day, before the sunbeams over the tips of the mountains, you sneak out of your home and go to Ada's
You poke him with a twig, multiple times as he sleeps in his pile of multiple younger brothers and sisters
He groans under them
"What...what is it..." he asks groggily
"Let's sneak past the boarder" you whisper excited
Ada jumps up catching one of his siblings that slid down his back.
"What?!" he whisper shouts, "Are you crazy?"
"C'mon...if you don't go I'm still going"
Somehow that makes Ada agrees, rearranging the young ones in the pile, he follows you outside. Next to get is Sabre.
Sabre doesn't have a family, he often sleeps in a hammock just by the clans main cave exit.
As you approach the main exit, you see him snoozing away.
Aba and you look at one another and smile mischievously.
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Sabre grumbles as he follows the two of you down the mountain.
Ada laughs out loud, the large golden colored yautja with green eyes and thin dreads races along the trail.
"You should've seen your face Sabre!" he laughs
Sabre, the mute grey yautja with blue eyes, short thick dreads, and a deep scar across his throat sighs.
"You disturbed my sleep for a task that will get us both in trouble," he signs
"We won't get in trouble, you both are grown." you state, following along with the two
"You're right, we will just get extra chores for the clan while you are simply put under house arrest Yeyinde this one," Ada says to Sabre, with Sabre nodding along.
You groan, the two of them acting like you're some sort of untouchable being just because Ps'sa is your dad.
Soon the three of you reach the bottom of the mountain and go past the clans effigy, warning those to stay away.
The sun starts to cross over the many miles of forest at the bottom of the mountains. The wildlife, from the largest deer, to the smallest bird begin their days by grazing, and searching for food. An everyday struggle for those at the bottom of the food chain.
The trio keep walking, there isn't much to see besides trees for miles, occasional bear track, occasional moose poop.
"This is uneventful..." Ada states, leaning against a nearby tree, "What were you hoping to see out here?"
"I was hope-"
A gun click
Another persons morning, Miguel wakes up early, and arms himself with his rifle, hoping to catch you before you could run off, if you truly were in danger, he'd save you.
Wandering around the bottom of the mountain, he searches, for hours he searches, the sun begins to gleam down onto the earth.
He feels hopeless...until he hears you three, the two beasts speaking a language unknown to him.
Quickly feeling a rush of adrenaline, he crouches down low, moving amongst the bushes, he closes the space between your group and him.
He sees you standing in the middle of the path, the two beasts on either side of you, he has a clear shot. He raises his rifle up to point towards the golden one. Pulling the top trigger back, he forgot about the click.
Click
The three turn and stare at Miguel. He panics, and fires a bullet at the golden one.
With a blast, Miguel falls back, not hearing a yowl of pain, or even a thud of a body hitting the ground, he quickly rushes to his feet, grabbing his rifle from the dirt he stands again to see you standing between the golden one and him. The bullet on the ground crumpled, as if it had hit an immovable object.
"What the hell..."
Seeing the man point his weapon at Ada, your body reacts as it always does. Moving faster than most eyes can see, you place yourself between Ada and the gun, it fires, and the bullet is shot into your shoulder, it crumples on impact with your skin, falling to the ground, still hot from being fired.
The man, who is around the same age as you, lifts his rifle up again, this time to aim at Sabre, you rush forward, grabbing the gun and bending it backwards with your two hands. Seeing you bend the metal startles the man, and he fires once more. This causes the gun to explode in your hands.
To the mans shock, but not to your friends, you're fine.
Looking down at the now destroyed gun in your hands, you toss it aside and stare down at the man who has fallen back onto the ground.
Ada and Sabre call back to you, as they being to turn to return back home before this human can follow you home.
You turn back at the man, and back at your friends who are quickly heading home. With a gust of wind, you are gone in the blink of an eye.
Miguel stares in shock, he blinked and you were gone. Cursing under his breath, you were not a captive...you're a goddess...
He sits on his knees, and laps on his palms, staring into the dirt, thinking about how his bullets crumpled against your skin.. how effortlessly you bent the gun...The gun...
Miguel turns his head to the gun you had tossed to the side, he picks it up and examines it.
You can clearly make out where ones fingers would be if they were to bend metal.
He had proof you were real...
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chimcess · 10 months ago
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Waterlog || pjm (2)
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Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 11.5k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: PINING, sexual tension, sad backstory, parental issues, more than likely bad swimming terminology, probably some bad work out advice, i'm trying my best lol, tae is too much but i love him, talks of past drug use (not reader or jimin), strong language, mental health things, medication use, allusions to depression, did i say pining?, reader is horny and awkward 99% of the time, can we blame her?, mood swings, i think they are so cute together, i promise more romance is coming soon A/N: Howdy. I know we're having a pretty slow start, but I think it'll be worth it in the end. I enjoy a good slow burn, especially when there's so much awkward sexual tension involved. Thanks for reading!!!
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Waking up the next morning, I was greeted by a loud knocking on my door. Stumbling, I told whoever it was that I was on my way. The knocking stopped but was quickly followed by Violet’s loud voice. My things were here, and I needed to let the movers inside.
“Christian and Kook are here already,” She added. “Managed to get an extra pair of hands, too.”
I changed into a pair of jeans and threw on a pull over. It was not supposed to be as cold today, but I did not think a short-sleeved shirt would be enough to keep me warm. Sliding into my boots, I opened the front door.
Violet was there, her hair in a braid again, wearing a blue plaid shirt and bootcut jeans. Beside her was Jimin, a large smile already on his face. Two other men were here. I was certain I had seen one of them before. He was very handsome with a heart shaped face and soft chin, large, asymmetrical brown eyes, and downturned lips. His hair was very obviously dyed, the blue so bright when the sun hit it my eyes hurt.
The other man was less familiar. His hair was black, styled into a trendy wolf cut, with his bangs pulled out of his face into a ponytail. He had a pure, youthful, and elegant look about him, and a few piercings. There was one on his eyebrow, one on his bottom lip, and so many on each ear I could not count them all. If I could describe him in a single word, it would be cartoonish. His eyes took up most of his face, large and doe-like, with all of his other features soft and small. Like the blue haired man, he was very handsome.
This upset me more than it should have, because despite how wonderful they both looked, all I could think about was how much I preferred Jimin. It was incomparable, actually. While they were certainly my type, I could only see how not Jimin-like their features were.
“Good morning,” I greeted them awkwardly, my voice scratchy. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you both.”
“It’s such an honor to meet you,” The blue haired man’s enthusiasm caught me off guard. Despite me never making the move to shake either one of their hands, he reached for mine anyway. He reminded me of a labrador retriever, and I could imagine a tail wagging in time with his vigorous handshake. “I’m Taehyung Kim. I used to watch you, like, all the time back in the day.”
I knew that name. Studying his face a little more, it hit me. Taehyung Kim, a.k.a., The Seal of Michigan, a.k.a, V. I never understood why he had been given that last one, but it must have some sort of meaning to him because the guy lights up when anyone uses it. He was a famous snowboarder and had been to the 2020 winter Olympics. He was just a few months younger than Jimin.
“That’s very kind of you to say,” I gripped his hand back a bit more now. “I watched you at the last Olympics. You did great.”
He blushed and let go of my hand, “I didn’t win anything, but I had a lot of fun.”
That was true. The kid was brand new on the scene and let some of his nerves get to him. I had learned the hard way that hesitation could ruin a great performance, but I was sure he would do better in January. The Winter Olympics were always a few months ahead of summer, and I would surely be watching Taehyung this year. If I was going to spend time with Jimin then I would need to get along with his friends.
“It’s not always about winning,” I tried to comfort him. “I didn’t win every time either.”
That placated him. Jimin quickly introduced me to Jungkook after. He was an NHL player for the Red Wings. I admitted that I had no idea who he was and never really watched hockey before, but that only made Jungkook swear to make me an avid fan before I left Michigan. For some reason, I believed him.
It did not take long for the movers to get all of my furniture and boxes into the house. With the boys’ help, I was tipping the two men much earlier than I anticipated. All three of them insisted on helping me unpack despite me telling them I could do it on my own. The place was entirely too small for the four of us, but we managed to make it work.
I had told them my bedroom was off limits. I unpacked my clothes and put my underwear away. My room was the largest in the house. With enough space for my full-sized bed, nightstands, and dresser, I was pleased. The only downside was not having a closet, but I did not bring anything nice enough for it to really matter. It was inconvenient but not the end of the world.
I was, however, happy to see more color. My blanket was dark orange, pillowcases covered in baby pink cow print, and the otter plushie Namjoon’s mom made me was resting right in between them. I installed some simple shelving above my bed, warmly lit Christmas lights wrapped around the bars, where I displayed my books and a few of my plants. The rest were lined up on the windowsill beside the bed.
Brightly colored art now hung on the walls, a large mirror above my dresser, and a peg board for my earrings made the space feel lived in. Whatever books could not fit on my shelves got stacked and put on the nightstand. I still wanted to buy a rug and curtains, but that was on the bottom of my list of priorities.
The boys were all talking and laughing as they worked which helped me relax. I hated being trapped in quiet spaces. Finished with my room, I went to check in with them and move things around. I doubted any of them would get the knick-knacks just right.
“Don’t worry about the decorations,” I said, announcing my presence. Taehyung was staring at two of my paintings with mild panic. “I’ll take that.”
Snatching the photos, I smiled at him. The living room was coming together nicely. Jungkook pushed the dark green loveseat against the wall and all of my throws were on top of it. My largest potted plant was beside it and I decided then I would keep it there. Moving the throw pillows to the floor, I started to put my wall art up. Hoseok complained that I was going to become a hoarder if I bought any more shit. Andrea, however, said that I had great taste, so I listened to her instead.
“You’re a big face of Earthy colors,” Jungkook said, looking around the house. “Lots of plants, too.”
I shrugged, “My fiancé had a lot of succulents and stuff, so I guess it rubbed off on me after a while.”
In truth, Namjoon not only had succulents and cacti, but an entire apartment filled with plants. He had a small garden in the back, vegetables and herbs growing in despite the weather in Colorado making it difficult. The man had a green thumb and loved taking care of things. I had been in charge of them once we moved in together and learned to love it. Even after he died, I couldn’t imagine not having at least five plants in the house.
I noticed the room had gone eerily quiet. I realized then what I had said. It was the first time I had spoken about Namjoon with any of them. Knowing I had made the atmosphere awkward, I tried to break up the tension.
“What colors do you like, Jungkook?”
I could physically feel the mood lighten.
“Black,” His reply was quick. I groaned. He laughed. “What? I like the clean look.”
“It’s not clean,” I argued. “It’s depressing.”
Taehyung took my side, “My house isn’t as decorated as yours, but I have more going on than either one of them. I’m a huge fan of video games and photography so I have a lot of stuff hanging up.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Jimin chimed in from the bathroom. He placed himself in charge of getting that room squared away. “His place isn’t as nice as yours. It’s all cluttered and disorganized."
“Nu uh,” Taehyung argued childishly.
“Dude, you have stuff everywhere,” Jungkook shot back, handing me another picture frame.
“They’re lying,” Taehyung told me.
“You’re so full of shit, Tae,” Jungkook sighed.
“Literally the dumbest thing to lie about,” Jimin snarkily threw in from the bathroom.
“Bullies,” Taehyung was addressing me again and this time I could not help my chuckles. “They always gang up on me.”
As the boys continued to bicker, I worked. I finished hanging up the art above the sofa and got to organizing the throws. Taehyung had already pulled out my rug, and I started figuring out how I wanted to place all of the floor pillows. Namjoon never used the couch, no one in his family did, and I had become so conscious of their comfort that I always had a large array of pillows on the floor for them to use. After a few years, I had joined them, and I kept up the trend once I moved to the Springs. The sofa was little more than decoration.
“Damn, these are nice.”
Looking over my shoulder, I was surprised to see Jungkook holding up one of my medals. I was positive I had not packed it and the box he was hunched over was completely unfamiliar as well. Embarrassment and anger swelled up in my chest. I had placed Minho and Tilly in charge of coordinating with the movers so I could focus on work and training Hoseok before I left. If I had to guess, Tilly had thought it wise to ship over a large package of my most prized possessions for some God forsaken reason.
“I don’t know why those are here,” I hoped my voice sounded playful and carefree. I did not want another tense moment. “One of my friends must have packed them.”
“Holy shit,” Taehyung was now holding the medal. “These are heavy. You have so many.”
Walking over to the box, I took out the rest of the medals. Tilly had only packed four of the eight Olympic medals I owned, probably running out of room. Framed photos of me swimming, with the rest of my team, and my coach were also in the box. My swimsuit from the last Olympics I competed at was folded at the very bottom of the box, my goggles and cap wrapped up in the fabric, and underneath it was something I had not been expecting. A framed photograph.
I remembered that night as if it were yesterday. I was eighteen coming off the back of two major wins and making my mark in the athletic community. I had just moved to Denver; Victor had gotten divorced the year prior and his ex-wife moved to Colorful Colorado taking his daughter with her. My coach demanded he was close enough to see her every weekend. It really did not matter to me where I lived, so it was one of the easier decisions I had to make.
I knew Hoseok lived in the area, and we had always been friendly at the meets we had in common. I ended up getting his number from Ozzie and after getting coffee I knew we would be friends for life. The picture was taken at his New Year’s Eve Party. I needed to get laid, he had said, and he knew a few guys he thought I might hit it off with. That was where I met Namjoon.
He was a college student, fresh faced and stumbling over his words. I was charmed by him almost instantly, even if Hoseok was positive the two of us were too different to last. I could recall the smell of fireworks in the air, the way his voice cracked whenever another one would go off, and how excited his eyes looked whenever I asked him about his major. Namjoon spoke for hours about Philosophy, all of his favorite poets, and the way he believed the universe worked. He was so clumsy it was practically a disability, and the loud sounds were so nerve wracking, he flinched whenever the fireworks boomed.
Picking up the small picture, I smiled. It was taken right after midnight. Hoseok’s sister said we looked so sweet that she could not help herself. I had all but ripped Namjoon’s hair out when the countdown began, kissing him before midnight ever came. His hands rested gently on my hips, and he huffed like he had run a marathon when we finally pulled apart. His breath was hot when he went back in for more, panting into my mouth as I clung to him like an addict. It was a beautiful moment. It was a moment I would never forget.
Suddenly, I was no longer mad at Matilda. I was sure it had been her who did this. Minho would not go through so much trouble if he thought it would upset me. Either way, I was happy to have the picture. While I was no longer in love with Namjoon, my heart slowly healing itself and making space for someone new, I would never forget our time together. It was too perfect, too magical; too loving to forget.
“Is that him?” Taehyung asked. The way he said it told me that he knew what had happened. I doubted there was a person in our world who didn't know. “The guy who died?”
I nodded, “His name was Namjoon.”
“Damn, that’s rough,” Jungkook’s voice was very gentle, and I could hear the compassion in it. “Sorry to hear that. Hope you’re doing okay.”
I smiled at him and nodded, “It was a few years ago.”
Taehyung was the one who broke the moment this time and I was grateful for the reprieve.
“These aren’t all of them, right?” He pointed at the medals still in the box. "Olympic medals, I mean."
I shook my head, “No but I guess she just grabbed the ones I had at my house. The other four I keep at my school. They’re in a case in my office.”
The ones Tilly had packed away were from 2012. Andrea had been the one to convince me to bring my other medals to school. Before that I had them all stored in a box in the deepest corner of my basement. I hated looking at them. Hated everything that they represented. The only reason these had been hanging up was because I could not be bothered taking them down.
“Where should we put them?” Jungkook asked.
I shrugged, “No idea. Just keep them in the box for now.”
Truthfully, I had no intention of putting them anywhere. While happy to have the photo of Namjoon and I, my feelings on dragging these things around had not changed. I would be very upset if I lost or damaged any of this stuff. Putting everything away, save the picture, I closed the box back up and placed the photo on my coffee table. I would find a better place for it later.
Like all of the times I had been around him, Jimin bled into the background. I listened for his voice, waited for him to add something to the conversation, but he kept to himself. Even when he left the bathroom and joined the three of us, he only answered in one-word sentences and made sound effects to show he was listening. Taehyung and Jungkook seemed used to it, so I had to believe this was just how Jimin normally was.
“You should come and grab some drinks with us,” Jungkook smiled at me.
The boys were going out for a late lunch since we finished a little later than we had thought we would. I was appreciative that they had invited me out but declined the offer. All of them were disappointed.
“Why not?” Taehyung wiggled a large set of keys at me. I could not imagine what all of them could be for and the sound they made when they moved bothered me. “You worried the food’s going to suck or something?”
I shook my head, laughing, “No, it’s nothing like that. I just don’t feel comfortable going to a bar.”
Jimin smiled at me, a small, tight-lipped smile, and I almost laughed at myself when I realized I was holding my breath. I was being ridiculous. I would call Hoseok tonight to get my head screwed back on.
“It’s not a bar,” It was heavenly to hear his voice again. “Taehyung and I don’t drink. Jungkook just likes to sit at the bar so he can watch the games.”
“Oh,” I replied dumbly. “I guess I can come along then.”
Jimin offered to give me a ride while Jungkook and Taehyung rode in the hockey player's beat up Jeep. He was just as quiet on the ride to the restaurant as he was back at the house, and while I wanted to break him out of whatever shell he had put around himself, I had no idea how. We were supposed to work together and barely spoke. Ozzie was not going to be happy about this.
“What time are we getting your car?”
I jumped, not prepared for the question. His eyes were still on the road, and it looked like he was forcing himself to not look my way. It hurt my feelings, but I knew I would have to get over it. Whatever his problem was, it had nothing to do with me and I would not let it get in between our working relationship.
“Whenever you want to go,” I replied, going back to looking out of the window.
“We’ll pick it up after we eat. My mom invited you over for dinner. by the way. If you're up for it.”
This had been the most he had said all day, but his voice was off. It was embarrassing how quickly I had become attuned to his little mannerisms, but I was so sure that something was wrong with him it was eerie. His tone was flat and disinterested, and I knew I had done nothing to upset him. Something was obviously bothering him, and I would have to silently support him in my own way. I was not comfortable being more upfront and something told me that Jimin would not like my overstepping.
“I might,” I purposely kept my tone light, hoping he did not realize I could see the darkness in his eyes. Looking at him, I asked, “What is she making?”
“Beef and radish stew,” The mundane topic seemed to ease his frown. “She got a yellow corvina from the Asian market yesterday so she’s going to roast it. Do you like fish?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “It sounds nice. I’ll go.”
A ghost of a smile graced his pretty face and I felt like I had won the lottery. Carefully composed, I looked back out of the window, hiding my little smile behind my hand. He was quiet again, the only sounds in the car being our breathing, but it felt lighter. Finally, I let myself admire the scenery.
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Taehyung and Jungkook were already at the bar when we arrived and as soon as we sat down, the snowboarder was quick to hog all of my attention. While Jungkook watched a baseball game on the big screens, Taehyung talked animatedly about his family. Jimin was quietly sipping on a Coke in the seat next to me. It was strange to see how easily his friends ignored him. Like they knew he did not feel like talking.
“My sisters are both in college,” Taehyung continued to ramble. “Twins. It was a nightmare being the baby brother.”
I nodded along and tried my best to keep up with him. I kept getting distracted by Jimin. He barely moved and seemed to be mindlessly watching the tv. He looked so sad it broke my heart. Still, no one else said anything so I kept my thoughts to myself.
“Oh!” Taehyung gasped, noticing a few people who walked in. “I’m going to go say ‘hi.’ It was so great meeting you.”
With a bright smile, Taehyung told the boys about the group and Jungkook decided to join him. Jimin did not even acknowledge he had said anything. Leaving us alone, the restaurant was loud and filled with their chattering.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, trying to make conversation. Picking up the menu the bartender had left with Taehyung when we first arrived, I gave it a quick once over. “We can split an appetizer.”
Jimin looked tired and sad, but I did not know what to say or do for him. We were not lovers, not even friends. We were a pair of strangers who were expected to work together. This seemed much easier over the phone. I took a nervous sip of my drink.
“What are you thinking?” Just the sound of him talking eased my anxiety.
“Uh,” I had barely looked at their menu and pointed to a random item. “Fried pickles?”
Jimin smiled lazily and looked at me, his eyes amused.
“You don’t sound very sure of yourself.”
I shrugged, embarrassed. “I just said the first thing I saw.”
Putting his cup down, Jimin grabbed the menu from my hands and laid it flat on the bar. We leaned over the small paper, our knees touching. I could smell his cologne now and my mouth watered. He smelled so good I struggled to focus.
“Most of the shit here is awful,” His voice had more life in it now and I was glad to see the corners of his mouth pulled up. “Only things worth getting are the chips and salsa, fried cheese, and pasties. The pizza is fine, too, but not worth the money.”
Talking distracted him from whatever had been on his mind, and it made Jungkook and Taehyung’s behavior odd. They were obviously very close, but if I could see how much happier he looked when he was shooting the shit, how couldn’t they? They probably knew something I didn’t, but it did nothing but rub me the wrong way. My friends would annoy me until I had no choice but to talk back.
“Chips are usually pretty safe,” We both agreed on it. “Do you just want chips? I don’t mind getting you a burger or something.”
He shook his head, “Like I said, most of the shit here is awful. Don’t waste your money.”
I ordered the chips for us, and the bartender was happy to help us out. This place was pathetically empty save us and the group Jungkook and Taehyung ditched us for. They were very loud and rowdy, something Jimin said was completely normal. Apparently, they all knew one another but he hadn’t felt like spending time with any of them.
“Are you feeling alright?” I asked, heart pounding. My anxiety over the question was ridiculous, but I felt like this was a good moment to ask. We were both comfortable and the tightness around his eyes was finally eased.
“Just one of those days,” He replied, voice soft.
I sighed, “I get them, too. They’re the fucking worst.”
He chuckled darkly, “It’s like you wake up and that’s already taken all of the energy you had for the day.”
“Why’d you come to the house?” I asked, flagging the bartender for a refill. “I wouldn’t have been upset if you bailed.”
Jimin flushed, “I said I was coming so I came.”
No, I thought, you thought I was going to be mad if you hadn’t shown up. Hamilton had this poor kid so fucked up and scared it pissed me off. As long as I knew Matt, he had always been an ass, but to think he had his trainee putting shit before his mental health and wellbeing made whatever sliver of respect I had for him vanish.
I took a long sip of my drink, “We can’t work together if you don’t talk to me. That will piss me off way more than you canceling on me.”
“Okay,” He let out a very large breath. “I’ll let you know next time.”
As we ate our chips, we moved into safer waters. Jimin was still less talkative in person, but nowhere near as tense as he had been all morning. I found that music was one of his favorite things, and I discussed my own interests in more depth and detail than I ever had before. Jimin’s taste was varied but stuck mostly in 90s R&B and soft Indie artists I had never heard of. At some point I ordered spicy wings and had to admit Jimin was right- they really were awful.
We left the other two behind to go and pick up my car. Jungkook and Taehyung seemed more than happy to watch us leave and the large table barely acknowledged my presence. Jimin accepted their happy shouts when he approached, hugging the ones who stood up to greet him, and forced one of his small, pitiful smiles at a particular brunette who kept batting her eyelashes at him. He introduced me but none of them seemed to really care. Especially the brunette.
“Let me get your number,” Taehyung said to me, holding out a hand for my phone. “We need to hang out again.”
I was nervous about giving him a way to contact me. He reminded me of Tilly, though ten times more energetic, and she always found a way to get on my nerves (the box being one of many examples). Taehyung had yet to overstep the imaginary boundaries I had, but his complete lack of personal space etiquette was astounding. He touched me more in one day than any of my friends in an entire year. He seemed like the type of person to text every day and send a million pictures of himself doing random shit. Even with that in mind, I handed my phone over. He was too nice to say no to.
“Do you like sushi?” Taehyung asked, handing me my phone. “There’s a great place in Detroit we can go to.”
The idea of being trapped in a car with the snowboarder for 45 minutes was not appealing. I could only imagine how much he could talk when he was really excited about something. I would entertain the idea if Jungkook or Jimin came as a buffer, especially if one of them could sit up front. Taehyung yapping away in my ear would give me the biggest migraine I had ever had, and my anxiety over not being entirely focused on the road would make me snippy and rude.
“Only if I can come,” Jungkook piped up. “You’re not going to Bash without me, dude.”
“Well yeah,” Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Y/N has to meet Milo and Darcy,” He looked at me, grinning happily. “I think you would really get along.”
I had no idea who either of those people were, but I did not want to ask any questions. Jimin was inching back towards me and telling the others goodbye, and I did not want to hold him up. Taehyung started making plans that I did not pay any attention to. He could always text me when he figured out what he wanted.
“We have to get going,” Jimin was back beside me. “Y/N’s car is sitting at the dealership. It was good seeing everyone.”
I waved at the table and started walking away before Taehyung could touch me. He was definitely a hugger. Jimin was quick to catch up with me, giggling about my “escape.” It had started to snow again, gentle flurries twisting and turning in the wind, and I had forgotten my heavy jacket at home. The long sleeve I was wearing would do nothing to keep me warm.
“Here,” Jimin taking off his jacket. “You need this more than me.”
Draping it over my shoulders, Jimin told me to zip it up. Stunned, I moved on autopilot and shoved my arms through the sleeves. Everything smelled like him, oranges and spice, and his warmth was still clinging to the thick fleece. I could not remember the last time someone had given me their jacket. Dazed, I followed Jimin out to the parking lot, eyes locked on his back. He was in nothing but a thin, black and white striped shirt.
“Thanks,” I said once we were both in the truck, already shrugging out of the light beige jacket. “You didn’t have to do that.”
He held up a hand, “Keep it. The heater is out.”
I shook my head, “What about you?”
He reached into the back and held up a purple hoodie.
“I’ll be alright.”
I put the jacket back on and buckled in. Jimin slipped into the sweatshirt and started the truck. After buckling up, he backed out of the parking lot. I caught sight of the brunette as we left. She was red faced, shouting into her phone. I looked away. Whoever she was angry with was definitely getting an earful.
“Wonder what Tom did this time,” Jimin mumbled.
“Hm?”
“Tom’s Annie’s boyfriend,” He supplied. “They’re always arguing. Worse than Jungkook and Darcy, they break up every other week, but Tom and Annie are at each other's throats every other day.”
I grimaced, “Sounds like my friends. They finally called it quits last year, but they were insufferable.”
Jimin chuckled, “So, what’s Colorado like?”
I talked to him about Andrea and Seokjin first, how we met and how much I loved their daughter. Hoseok and I’s friendship got quite a few laughs out of him, but those quickly died off when I brought up Namjoon. I told him about the day we met and the coffee date that happened a few days later, and that seemed to brighten up the mood again. Namjoon stories were bittersweet but took up such a large chunk of my life it was impossible to gloss over.
“When’s the toxic couple coming up?” He joked.
“I’m getting there,” I replied.
Hoseok and Matilda had known one another longer than the rest of us. Growing up together, no one was surprised when they finally hooked up in high school. It was, however, short lived bliss. Matilda got caught up in the wrong crowd and began doing drugs. Hoseok had tried to help her get through it, but they could never see eye-to-eye. That started their toxic cycle of getting back together, Tilly going to rehab, her relapsing, and them falling out again. It was not until she went two years ago that it managed to stick, but their relationship was too tumultuous to make it very far. They decided to stay friends and she became a constant member in our group.
“That’s crazy,” Jimin shook his head. “Happy she’s doing better now.”
“Me too.”
The rest of the drive was spent talking about Colorado and how beautiful it was. He stayed away from swimming, mostly wanting to hear about the school I worked at and the places I went to in my free time. He kept me talking for the entire 45-minute car ride, question after question keeping me on my toes. He did not like talking about himself, whenever I tried to switch the conversation to his own interests he barely responded before going back to his interrogation. Before I knew it, we were pulled into the dealership and getting down.
“You can leave,” I told him.
“I want to make sure you’re good before I go,” He replied.
The cashier was lovely, her voice bubbly and sweet as she helped me out. Jimin lingered longer than he needed to, helping me fill out my paperwork and making small talk with the dealer. I took my keys and went for a quick test drive before I was finally able to convince Jimin to leave.
The drive back was quiet. I was used to the silence when I drove, but Jimin’s voice had been soothing. Frankly, I was a bit bored without him around. I decided to call Matila and ask about my medals. She apologized but I doubted how sincere she actually was. After catching up with her, hearing all about the guy she went on a date with, and a five-minute rant about Hoseok spending way too much money on Minho’s birthday present, I hung up before she could give me a migraine. As much as I liked Tilly, she was someone I had very little patience for and her voice, high pitched and loud, was like nails on a chalkboard.
I got back in town a little after 3. Violet and Calvin were both home and watching some black and white Western. Calvin offered to make me lunch, but I was quick to decline. I just wanted some space.
As soon as I got in my apartment, I curled up in bed to take a nap. I was overwhelmed after talking so much and desperately needed to recharge. I set an alarm for 5 so I could make it over to the Park house in time for dinner. Quickly sending a quick text to Hoseok, I turned on thunderstorm sounds and closed my eyes.
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Na-Yeon and James were both excited to see me, talking about their days and asking how I was settling in. Eloise was there as well, the twins in the back room playing again. Jimin was going to be late. He had gone for a last-minute swim with Milo. When I asked them who that was, it was Eloise who answered.
“That’s Vincent’s fiancé.”
“Who?” I was even more confused.
“Taehyung,” Na-Yeon answered. “You know he hates that name as much as Jimin hates his, Lou."
Eloise blushed, her entire face turning a bright shade of red.
“Sorry,” She scratched behind her ear. Looking back at me, she sighed, “We went to school together. Old habit.”
Now V made sense. It never occurred to me that Jungkook and Taehyung could have their own American names, and neither one introduced themselves that way either. James came to take the seat beside mine, the dining table more crowded then was reasonably necessary.
“Does Jungkook have a second name?” I asked.
“Ian,” Eloise replied. “He goes by both, so I don’t think he cares as much as Tae and Jimin. I know his girlfriend uses both.”
I assumed that was Darcy. Why else would Taehyung assume she would go with us on a day trip to Detroit?
“They call him Ian on the team, too,” James chimed in. “His name is too hard.”
Namjoon never had an American name, at least, not one I had ever heard. The only person I could think of was Hoseok. A lot of his friends called him Jay, something about an old nickname from school, but that was it. Seokjin just went by Jin, Namjoon went by Joon, and Minho went by…well, Minho. None of their parents used American-Friendly names, and Seokjin’s father’s English was still poor even after living here for so long.
“Y/N,” Na-Yeon brought me back to the conversation. “What banchan do you like?”
“My eomeo-nim made these delicious, braised potatoes,” I answered, thinking back on our dinners together. “Kimchi, of course. My ex made the best braised lotus roots. They were always yummy.”
Na-Yeon seemed pleased by my answer. James and Eloise started rambling about their own favorites. Unlike Namjoon, Mr.Park was a big fan of seafood. He grew up in Busan near the Jagalchi Market, which, according to him, was the largest seafood market in South Korea. Eloise talked a little about her favorite Korean dishes before jumping into what she grew up eating. Her father was Scottish and her mother French, so one night she was eating Scottish Pie and daube niçoise the next. It was fun hearing more about Eloise. I would have never guessed she was a first generation American.
“It’s something Tony and I had in common,” She added. “He learned quite a bit of French before he died. Unfortunately, my Korean is taking much longer.”
“Mine isn’t that great either,” I admitted. “Namjoon’s family spoke English and never liked to make me feel awkward. I can follow a conversation fairly well, but only if you speak slowly.”
James laughed, “I will remember that.”
The front door opened, and I could hear loud talking. Eloise sighed. Whoever was with Jimin did not pass her inspection it would seem. She and James seemed to have a small conversation with their eyes. The men were still at the front of the house. Finally, Eloise looked away and scowled.
“Must have brought Milo and Tae over,” She muttered. “I’m going to go check on the twins.”
Eloise left the table. James told me to ignore her. She and Milo did not get along for whatever reason and she chose to ignore him. It was not my business, so I accepted that explanation.
I prepared myself for a bad interaction. So far, Eloise was such a quiet and sweet person I could not imagine anyone actively disliking her. Then again, this was Taehyung’s fiancé, and he was the nicest, most bubbly person I had ever met. It did not seem likely that he would hang around bad company. It could just be a case of personalities clashing.
“Annyeong,” Taehyung greeted us brightly, immediately finding me. “Babe, come say hi.”
A massive, pale man followed in behind him. Milo was a good-looking guy, bright blue eyes and dirty blonde hair, with a solid build. He reminded me of the male swimmers I worked with, his huge size and bulging muscles intimidating. His fashion sense was not as good as Taehyung’s. Ill-fitting black bottoms and a Rick and Morty t-shirt that made me want to roll my eyes. I was definitely biased, my loyalties already in Eloise’s corner. I did not need to know a backstory to be weary. The dude looked enough like Matthew Hamilton to make me dislike him just off principal.
“Milo, Y/N,” Taehyung introduced, gesturing between the two of us. Behind him, Jimin snuck into the kitchen and gave his mom a kiss on the cheek as a greeting. He looked nice in his gray tracksuit. “Y/N, this is my fiancé, Milo.”
I managed a disingenuous smile, “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” He replied. His voice was smokey.
“Where’s Lou?” Jimin asked, coming around to greet his father.
“Checking on Harper and Cam,” James told him.
There was not enough room for all of us to sit at the table and I ended up giving up my seat to Na-Yeon. Jimin helped her set the table while I was put in charge of gathering Eloise and the kids. Walking down the hallway, I found the kids’ playroom and knocked.
“Dinner’s ready,” I announced, poking my head inside.
The room was bigger than I thought it would be. Each side was decorated in stereotypical boy and girl colors, Cameron’s bed and wall art a wide variety of blues and teals with dinosaur decals on the walls, while Harper’s was a mix up of baby pink and white. Her bed had more stuffed animals on it than I could count and all of them seem well loved. Their toys split the room in half, a large, circle rug in the middle of it all. Most of the toys were thrown on the floor and Eloise was telling them it was time for them to clean it up.
The children looked so cute in their little matching outfits. Harper’s black hair was braided down her back and the ribbon tied at the end of it matched her cream-colored overalls. Cam’s hair was on the longer side as well, falling to his shoulders with a slight wave. His bright red converse stuck out against the rather plain outfit he was wearing, and I had to assume he put up a fight behind them. Harper started to sing the Barney song as they cleaned.
“Feeling, okay?” I asked their mother. She was sitting in the chair on Harper’s side. “You ran off pretty quickly.”
She shook her head, “It’s nothing. We’ve never gotten along.”
I raised an eyebrow, “Do you want to eat here? I’ll sit with you.”
She smiled, “We can play nice, don’t worry. Thanks, though. I appreciate you asking.”
Dinner was as uneventful as Eloise said it would be. She and Milo greeted one another and then acted as if the other did not exist. I stood up to eat, Taehyung, Milo, and Jimin with me while the others sat down. Cam was excited to talk about school and Harper rambled on and on about her imaginary friend Butter Squash. They were both very sweet and it made me miss Dani. The last time I saw her was when we went skating the weekend before I left.
Taehyung was as talkative as ever. His touches also become bolder. By the time I left, he had an arm around my shoulders and his body pressed against my side. Milo was unbothered by our closeness. He and Jimin spoke the most and again the guy I knew when no one else was around seemingly vanished. This one was too put together, too closed off, and no one, and I mean no one, seemed to care. Every time he laughed half-heartedly or nodded along with whatever Milo was talking about, I felt more confused. Why was he so hot and cold all of the time?
During my drive back home, I tentatively attempted to listen to the radio. I only lasted around a minute or so before I switched it off. I needed silence. The Parks were such a lovely family, but tonight was too much. Between unpacking and Taehyung, I was drained. Hoseok had asked me to call him when I got home but I was going to wait. If it was important enough, he would call me himself.
I fell asleep as soon as my face hit the pillow, my medication making it a dreamless night.
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The rest of the week was quiet. I called my friends back home to check in Thursday morning and was happy about Hoseok’s progress. The kids were really liking him, and he thought he may have a permanent job for next year if I decided to keep working with Jimin. I told him not to get his hopes up.
Jimin and I spoke through text daily. He was still going about his normal routine while I brainstormed training and scheduling. By Saturday I was ready to start testing out different ideas. We both seemed eager to get started, actually. Sunday, like I expected, was very quiet. That was his mom’s day, so I tried not to bother him. Violet and Calvin kept me company.
The Andersons were nice people. Violet was always coming to the back and inviting me to join them for breakfast, and her husband enjoyed asking me about my life. Calvin was far more personable than his wife was, but they managed to balance one another out. Sunday evening was the first time I noticed Calvin’s memory issues. He had no idea who I was. I came inside and Violet had to tell him I was their daughter Nancy’s babysitter. He was under the assumption that she was still 10. I left them alone when Violet asked me to pick her up from school. She came out back a few hours later to thank me for going along with everything, and I made sure that she had my phone number in case she needed me to help out if things got out of hand.
It was still dark outside when I left Monday morning. Jimin and I agreed to meet up at 6 am to start our day, but I wanted to get to the gym early. Time to set up and get myself in the right headspace was important to me.
The location he had sent me was more remote than I had originally anticipated. Jimin owned the little gym. It had been a swim school in the past and the place he had first learned he loved the water. He and his mom went to classes together when he was young. The place had been too expensive for the previous owners to keep up with and they were planning on selling it, but Jimin bought it off of them and converted it into a public gym/pool.
In our text exchanges he called it his retirement plan, but I was sure the place meant more to him than that. He had no interest in it until after the cancer diagnosis. If I was to over analyze it, I would say he was trying to hold onto a happy memory. This was their place before sickness and death ran through his family. I would imagine anyone would want to keep something that held so much sentimental value if they could.
Pulling into the parking lot, I was first struck by two things. One, it was open and there were people inside, and two, it was huge. Most of the building was nothing but windows giving me a great view of the muscled men inside. Bright fluorescent lights made my sensitive eyes hurt, and I could hear the faint sound of music coming from somewhere near the gym. The small group of men were together, all of them lifting and spotting each other while talking, and a sense of dread filled my belly.
I was always anxious when I went to a new place, but a new gym was a nightmare. I had bad experiences in the past. Overly friendly creeps who liked to stand around and watch me while I worked out. None of the guys inside gave off bad vibes, but I was still in my car and none of them laid their eyes on me. A woman in a gym was like a drop of blood in water. I had to hope they were not sharks.
Gathering courage, I grabbed my duffle and made my way inside. A pretty, dark-skinned, young woman was sitting at the receptionist desk, and I felt more at ease. If they left her alone then maybe they would not cause me too much trouble either. The music was louder inside, and I recognized the Ciara song. It was a great one for cardio. Fighting the urge to dance, I greeted the receptionist. She put down her magazine and gave me an award-winning grin. She had a nice, dimpled smile.
“Hi there,” She had a thick, Southern accent and I could not tell you where she might be from. I was awful at telling them apart. “Do you have your membership card?”
I laughed nervously, my grip on my bag tightening. “No. I’m here to train with Jimin Park. He said I should have something on file.”
She nodded, her smile unwavering as she looked at her computer and asked for my name.
“Y/N Y/L/N,” I replied, foot tapping along to the Lil Wayne song that came on. I had this one on my own workout playlist back in 2008. I could not help mumbling the words under my breath, “She-she-she lick me like a lollipop.”
“Found you,” The girl grabbed a few sheets of paper from a pile on her side of the desk. “Just fill these out for me and we’ll get your card printed. Your fees have been paid already so no need to worry about that.”
I nodded, half listening. This song was great. Why has it been so long since I last heard it? I went to the gym all the time. I needed to put it back on my playlist. Honestly, the entire Carter III needed to find its way back into my rotation.
“My name’s Giselle if you need anything,” The receptionist pointed to a cluster of chairs right at the front entrance. “You’re super early so Christian isn’t here yet, but I’ll give you the key to the pool room so you can do whatever you need before the boss gets in.”
I smiled at her, “Thank you, Giselle.”
“Anytime, ma’am.”
It took me a few minutes to fill the paperwork out and scan my ID, but Giselle made everything as quick as she could. One of the men working out had come by to ask for some wipes to clean off a few of the machines but left without anything more than a ‘good morning’ thrown in my direction. When we passed by the rest of them on the way to the pool house, we were completely ignored, so it was safe for me to say that they would not be a problem for me in the future. Creeps were never subtle about their creepiness.
“I have to double check with Christian, but I think I’m supposed to give you a spare key,” Giselle said, unlocking the pool. “I’m just going to be sure before I promise you anything. Don’t want to get fired.”
I could tell she was joking. Jimin did not strike me as the type of guy to fire anyone over something like that. It only made sense for me to have a spare key since we would be coming around so much, and I would feel bad about disrupting the staff whenever I needed to get inside. They did not get paid enough to deal with that on top of all of the rest of their duties.
“We keep it locked until 9,” Giselle continued, leading the way inside. “Then we close it back up at 5. Maintenance comes in every Tuesday to treat the water, so you’ll have to be out of here no later than 7. Boss man knows this already so you shouldn’t have any problems with that.”
The pool room was very bland and bare bones. The smell of chlorine hung heavily in the air while the lights around the pool walls illuminated the dark room. It was very big, and I itched to go for a quick dip. The coolness of the water would be nice against my skin. I had grown hot with nerves and gotten a little sweaty.
“We have a few other staff members that will be in around the same time the boss man comes in,” Giselle continued to give me the rundown. “I’m sure he’ll introduce you to everyone just in case you need anything. I’d say make nice with Yoongi first. He’s our in-house massage therapist.”
Pointing to a door on the far-left wall, Giselle let me know that was the pool locker room and the door right next to it was a shortcut to the back offices. Management, marketing, and facility supervisors were usually all back there and I would more than likely never see them. They were not the most social people and worked from home a lot. I could tell by Giselle’s voice that she did not particularly care for management.
“Drew should be here by now,” She checked her smart watch. “She’s the general manager. I’m going to go and grab her and see about that key. She might come back to say ‘hi’ but don’t hold your breath.”
I chuckled, “That bad?”
Giselle rolled her eyes, “Drew’s fine, but Dominic is usually following her around everywhere and he’s annoying. You’ll get what I mean if you ever see them together.”
I laughed, “I’ve had my fair share of weirdos. Thanks again. I appreciate you showing me around.”
She beamed, “It wasn’t a problem. You gave me a reason to get up from the desk, so I’d say it’s a win.”
We spoke for a few more minutes until a very large, bulky man popped his head in looking for her. His black t-shirt clung to him tightly and his shorts were a hideous neon pink color. He did have a nice smile, one that took up most of his face and teeth so white they looked fake. Giselle introduced me very quickly, and the man, Sam, turned out to be one of the personal trainers on staff.
“You’re the Olympian, right?” Sam asked. Jimin must really like people who talked a lot, because I had never met more outgoing people in my life before moving here. Everyone he surrounded himself with was just full of energy, and I wondered if it was purposeful. Jimin himself was a rather quiet and sad person. “Jimin talks about you all the time.”
I laughed awkwardly, face heating, “That’s me.”
“Sick,” Suddenly an image of Sam surfing in California flashed through my mind. He just seemed like the type. “Well, I have to go and help out a client, but it was nice meeting you. Gigi, can you go back up front before Drew pitches a fit?”
Giselle sighed heavily, “Tell her I’m coming,” Looking at me she asked if I was okay on my own. “Come and get me if you need anything, okay?”
After assuring her that I was fine, Giselle left behind Sam. The two of them bickered like an old married couple, and I wondered about their relationship. He did call her a little nickname. I shook my head. Regardless, I had other things I needed to take care of before I could get lost in thought about two strangers.
Unpacking my duffle, I threw on my whistle and stopwatch before getting to work on my schedule. I had brought a lot of my personal swimming gear with me like training bands, coach communicator, and forearm fulcrum. Back in the day, I was the brand ambassador for Finis, so I had a lot of their products. The tracksuit I was wearing was from Speedo, and I had so much of their stuff for the same reason. Being a famous swimmer had its perks.
I had planned on doing a lot of drill and some short-burst efforts with Jimin. He had been without a PT for a few weeks now, and while I trusted him to stay in shape, it was no secret someone would be performing less on their own than with guidance. I did not want to over work him when he was, for all intents and purposes, been on a vacation. So, while I wanted to rush head-first into training, I would try to ease into things a bit before going full asshole on the kid. Like Victor would say, “Three times a week for three weeks.” After that, he was going to be at my mercy.
It was just past 6 when Jimin walked into the pool room. I was flipping through my training plan for the day and humming along to the music blasting through the speakers, echoing off the walls. Whoever was in charge of the playlist had a thing for the early 2000s.
“Morning,” His soft voice brought a smile to my face. He sounded tired. “What do you think about the place?”
Stealing a look at him, I had to hold back the gasp that I wanted to let out. He was wearing a black tank top and shorts giving me a great look at his skin. Embarrassed by my reaction, I internally scolded myself. I needed to get over this crush already. I was about to see a lot more of his body once he went to the back to change. I bit my lip. I had no idea how I was going to deal with him in a speedo.
“It’s very nice,” I was happy with how nonchalant I sounded. “Wasn’t expecting it to be so big.”
I wonder what else is big… I nibbled on the inside of my cheek. I really needed to get my mind out of the gutter. Scratch that- I should have dealt with this problem the second I realized it was there. I was going to force myself to call Hoseok today. He would know what to do, and if not, at least I could vent a little.
“Sleep okay?”
I jumped out of my ever-degrading thoughts.
“Yeah,” I sniffed. “Had fun with your mom? I wanted to give you two some space, so I stayed to myself.”
He smiled and I melted. Yeah, this needed to stop. I was too grown to be acting like this around a man.
“I appreciate it. We missed you at dinner, though. My dad kept complaining that things were quiet now.”
I chuckled, “Eloise and the kids not loud enough?”
He shook his head, “She didn’t come over.”
He tossed his sports bag next to mine and pulled out his swim gear. I caught a flash of his speedo and quickly looked away. The visuals going through my mind were distracting enough.
“Do you want to go over everything before I get changed?” Asked Jimin.
I shook my head, “No, go ahead. It’s going to be a chill day.”
“You got it, coach.”
I did not breathe until I heard the locker room door slam shut. Tossing my clipboard onto my bag, I roughly rubbed my face. I needed to pull myself together.
My attraction was easy to ignore and forget about when he was not in my face, but the second I got my eyes on him it was all I could focus on. I was awkward and fumbling all over the place whenever he was around. I focused on him far too much, far more than I should be due to our relationship, and it was driving me insane. I needed to take a breather, but I did not have enough time and I did not want to make him worried. Jimin seemed like the type of person who would become consumed by anxiety if he thought I was upset with him in any way. No, I would have to suck it up and get through this training session like an adult.
The locker room door opened. Jimin’s bare feet were loud against the gray, stone floor. I refused to look at him. I wasn’t ready yet. Bending over, I grabbed the clipboard and cleared my throat. I was hoping to get him in the water first, and then I could safely conduct myself in a professional way. The less skin I had to see at a time the better. I pointed at the pool.
“Like I said, it’s going to be an easy day,” He was walking away from me, and I felt the tightness in my chest lighten. “You’ve been without a trainer for a bit, and I’m not sure how intense your workouts have been since. Your warmup is just 10 minutes of easy swimming, and then we’ll go over our main set.”
I heard him get into the water with a splash and relaxed. I could handle him in the water. No one looked good with those stupid goggles on. I walked to the edge of the pool, clipboard in my hand, and stole a quick look.
As suspected, he did not look as potent like this. His hair was hidden beneath a red and white cap, and blue goggles obstructed most of his face. It was impossible to make out most of his body as he glided through the water, but I got a great look at his arms. He was more muscular than I gave him credit for. He was smaller and more lean than other swimmers, but I could see why he was able to dominate.
He was very fast, but I could already tell he was pushing harder than I wanted him to. Blowing my whistle, I let him know I only wanted him swimming at 80% effort. Jimin pulled a face and lifted his goggles up. Now that he was stagnant, I got a clear look at his chest and swallowed thickly. He needed to start moving or else I might have a heart attack.
“Why?” He was incredulous.
“Like I said, I don’t want you to overwork yourself. You’ve been on a vacation for four weeks now and we need to work our way back up to more intensive sets. It’ll only be for a couple of weeks.”
He pushed back again, “I’ve been coming here every day for hours. I think I’m fine.”
I shook my head, “I’m not trying to be a dick, and I’m not calling you a liar, but I am skeptical of the quality of the training.”
“But-”
“I haven’t been here to see your routine,” I cut him off before whatever smart ass comment he was planning to say could even come out. Jimin’s annoyance was plain as day, and I was not about to put up with a tantrum. “I’m known for being a hard ass, and I’m going to push you harder than you’ve ever been pushed before. You can ask Coach Bunch about me if you want. I will make sure you’re in the best shape of your life this year, but not at the expense of getting you injured.”
He took a deep breath before responding, “With all due respect, I’ve been putting in a lot of work by myself. I don’t think I need kid gloves.”
I smirked, cocking my head to the side. “Is that what you think this is?”
“Isn’t it?” He shrugged, pouting.
He was cute when he was mad.
“Humor me,” I replied. “We do things my way for the week and if I think you’re good to go by Friday then we’ll get back to normal training. How does that sound?”
Jimin thought for a moment before smiling at me.
“I can live with that.”
I chuckled, “Good to know. Now, put your goggles back on and finish your warmup. We’re wasting time arguing.”
As I suspected, once we started our drills, he did not perform up to the standards I had for him. Even at 75% what he was capable of, I could already see the areas he needed to work on. His butterflies were beautiful, but I could pick apart his breast and back strokes. I was happy with his free swim at the end, and I was going to start there the next session. I was hoping by starting off with compliments that we could become more comfortable with one another before I had to get serious. Those breast strokes would drive me insane until he could execute them perfectly every time.
“How am I doing?” Jimin asked during a cool down, doing a few laps before we started our drills again. “I know my breast strokes aren’t that great. I’ve always struggled with them.”
At least he was self-aware, I thought.
“We definitely have stuff to work on,” I replied. “Don’t worry too much about that right now. We can start talking about it more next week.”
He sighed, annoyed, and I laughed. He was very grumpy when it came to his swimming. Not wanting to upset him again, I decided to give him something.
“I would like to watch you swim a bit more and make a plan before giving you my opinion. My coach used to do that with me, and I found it helpful.”
We trained until eight-thirty, and I looked over my notes while Jimin cooled down. We did not talk as much as I would have liked, but it was probably for the best. His body was distracting, and I did not think I was doing a very good job at hiding my reactions to him. He did not seem to notice, or he was simply sparing my feelings, either way he was happy to keep relatively quiet. We only talked about training while he was in the water, and I was grateful he was maintaining his professionalism.
“When will we be back again?” Jimin asked, his last few minutes running down on the timer. “You said Wednesday, right?”
I nodded absentmindedly, in my own little world as I flipped through my notes. I had more than I thought I would have, all of them having to do with fixing his form and how we could go about it. New exercises, grueling training days, and a few new tools that I was not sure he had ever used before, would mold him into a swimmer I would glow with pride over. Park had always been a talented man, but I wanted to see if we could reach for something more. Something bigger and better than he could have imagined. I wanted to make Matthew fucking Hamilton look like the incompetent bastard I knew him to be.
“We’re done for the day,” I sighed, clicking the alarm off. “Do you want me to come for your night swim?”
Jimin ripped the goggles off, rubbing his eyes and already going to release his cap. I bit down on the inside of my mouth. He was so pretty and soft, and the way his muscles flexed as he swam to the edge of the pool made my stomach flutter. I looked away before he hoisted himself out of the water. I did not need that image floating around in my already depraved head.
“You can come if you want,” He replied casually. “I’m mostly hitting the gym when I’m here in the evenings. I only take a dip for thirty minutes and leave.”
I hummed, fighting the urge to look at his body. I focused instead on my breathing and writing down what he had just said. I did not want to forget that. It might be useful for me in the future. If we could exercise together, it would give me an opportunity to guide him through some of my favorite tricks to help with swimming.
“Will someone else be with you?”
“Probably Jungkook and Darcy. They’re my usual gym buddies when Milo is working.”
“Darcy’s his girlfriend, right?” I wanted to see if my hunch from the other night was right.
“Yeah. They’ve been going out for a couple of years now. She’s alright. Not as shy as you.”
I snorted, “You think I’m shy?”
Then I made a critical mistake. Looking over at Jimin, I nearly choked on my own spit. His skin was perfectly smooth, not a blemish in sight, and cream-colored. His body was just as pretty as his face, smooth abs and a tiny waist that led to toned and thick thighs. The tiny scrap of red fabric covering his private area did not stop my eyes from glancing. I looked away before I started to stare.
Hoseok was going to have a field day with this.
“I know you are,” He teased, his voice so soft and sweet. I briefly wondered what he would sound like in bed. I fought desperately to rid myself of that imagery. This could not be happening right now. “You’re so shy you can’t even look at me right now.”
His cocky attitude should have annoyed me, but instead it only further fueled my lust. Every time I had seen this man, he gave me such tonal whiplash it was beginning to drive me insane. First it was this innocent little angel facade that quickly became sarcastic and witty when he decided he could play around without me getting angry. Then it was the whole sad puppy thing he had going on for the last week. Now here he was, practically naked and getting riled up over me telling him what to do, and puffing his chest with confidence I never thought he was capable of. It would have pissed me off if I did not find him ridiculously attractive.
“Go get dressed, Park,” My voice was clipped and too harsh. I winced and quickly worked to soften the blow. Getting defensive only made me look worse. “We can get breakfast if you’re not busy. My treat.”
“Sure, coach.”
When I heard the locker room close, I let out a deep sigh. My sexual frustration was getting in the way of my work, and I hated it. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I sent Hoseok a text.
Me: I think I’m crushing on Park
Me: Help me get rid of it
The reply did not come until I was done packing up my things. The workout stuff I had brought with me had been useless today, but I was afraid of forgetting where they were the next time I might need them, so they never left the bag. My phone vibrated just as I was done zipping up my bag. I could hear the shower in the locker room and clenched my thighs together. I was still thinking of how pretty his belly was, the tattoo on his ribs pitch-black against his pale skin, and how solid his calves looked. I unlocked my phone and nearly cried laughing when I saw the response.
Hobi: HAHAHAHA
Hobi: Sex is always the answer
Hobi: Never thought I’d see the day you became a cougar
I have no idea why I thought he would be any help. So, I licked my wounds and messaged Andy (like I should have done in the first place) and knew whatever she had to say would be far more helpful than my stupid best friend’s word of “advice.” I just had to hope it would be enough to make all of these feelings stop.
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panoffrying · 8 months ago
Text
My Dr. Sozonius LORE Headcanons
✨Warning this is a bit long✨
Sozo is a character that has lived for a very long time. Whatever that mushroom was on their head not only influenced Sozo but kept them immortal. We know really nothing bout Sozos past so I made some headcanons for silly fun and for me to visualize who Sozo was and what his life may have looked like. I want to do my best to keep this as game accurate as possible, so there will be quotes from the game. The quotes are not at all in order! I kinda just bring up random Sozo quotes as I go. Also I apologize if this doesn't make sense or if I ramble (I get excited about certain topics) 
thank you so much @7moonbird for going over and editing this for me, Love ya Pookie!
And so we start:
Sozonius was born in the days of the old faith. He was present the day the Bishops declared the genocide of the lambs and he actually played a big part in assisting the lambs survival. However, he almost got caught and had to stop helping the lambs to keep his family safe. He's never seen any of the bishops(maybe) but his village was part of Darkwood and therefore under Bishop Leshy’s ruling.
VILLAGE 
Sozonius village was mostly a colony of Carpenter Ants, there were a few other species living there too but it was mostly Carpenter Ants. I imagine there are different races of ants depending on the region they’re in; so there could be fire ants, pharaoh ants, and more! Most ants get along nicely and work together but sometimes other races of ants can be more temperamental and cause conflict between colonies. Carpenter ants are a more calm type of ants, they aren't aggressive but they are incredibly strong. Carpenters ants are known to live in trees; they hollow out trees to make their homes and they like to stay off the ground as much as possible in case of floods and other dangers.
In the colony they had their ruler, the “Queen,” who looked over the village and did queenly business (not gonna go too deep into it). Everyone had many different jobs, ants are hard workers and very strong. They made marvelous structures, farmed a lot of crops, and knew how to work together when there was a threat. Sozo’s village was one that many others would try making deals/trades with. I would talk more about his village but that's not why y’all are here lol. 
Sozonius was a fellow damn near everyone in the village knew. He loved his work and he loved to talk about it to anyone that expressed that they wanted to listen. He was that guy that you could get stuck in a conversation with and struggle to end it. He liked to ramble about his work and kids. Other than that though he never really started conversations with others, he would keep to himself unless someone interacted with him.
And I could definitely see him having a science rival but nothing too bad lol.
FAMILY
“Where am I…? Where is… my family…?”  are the words Sozo says when he turns back into Dr. Sozonius. I like to think he had a wife and two children. They didn’t have the best marriage but they made it work out for their two sons. His wife was a bit stubborn and very honest. She would say things before thinking which did cause issues, but Sozonius let it slide because he loved her so much and wanted a happy family for his sons. 
Sozonius was a very funny dude. He made dad jokes all the damn time, his family would pretend to hate the jokes but in reality they did love them. 
Sozo Dialogue “Now all Sozo can think about is mushrooms, mushrooms, MUSHROOMS… They don’t leave mush-room for anything else! Ha!”
(Also, this next idea is inspired off of @kuphulwho headcanons for Sozo. I loved her ideas and I recommend y'all look at her headcanons too!) Aside from Sozonius being a mycologist he had a side hobby of art! He wasn't the best artist, but he was really talented with sketching plants/fungi, he liked to make art of anything that interested him. He most likely wrote an educational picture book about Fungi, there's probably an old copy of it somewhere.
This art hobby caught the interest of his two sons, and they also started to pursue art. Sozonius would take his free time teaching his sons how to draw plants and such. Sozonius would hang his kids' art everywhere in their house, it was like walking into an art museum haha.
JOB
Sozonius studied mycology which means he studied fungi. Sozonius knew fungi could benefit his society and he wanted to help educate others about the importance of fungi. Soon he learned enough of a new discovery of mushroom people, neither plant nor animal…Sozonius then made the decision to go on a solo mission to study the Mushroomo people.
THE MUSHROOMOS 
Dr. Sozonius Dialogue “My name is Dr. Sozonius. I was researching the Mushroomos that live in Spore Grotto… strange creatures, Neither animal nor plant…” 
Sozonius went to Spore Grotto and at first, he studied the Mushroomo people from a distance setting up a campsite near the Mushroomo Village. When the Mushroomo people discovered Sozonius they welcomed him into their home, cheerful happy little things. Sozonius was given the chance to learn more about these strange creatures up close! How could he say no? Sozonius was welcomed into Spore Grotto and was treated like a god. 
Sozonius asked the Mushroomos many questions, but getting any actual answers from them was difficult. The Mushroomos treated Sozonius like he was their most special guest, they danced and sang for Sozonius. They would mimic Sozonius and follow him around, making sure to do anything he asked of them. There would be many times when the Mushroomos would offer to feed Sozonius menticide mushrooms but Sozonius knew a lot about fungi and declined their offers. However, there seemed to be a special Ritual the Mushroomos took part in… 
Sozonius had been in Spore Grotto for many weeks now, it was time for him to leave, he had studied enough and was ready to return home but the Mushroomos were surprisingly sad when he announced this. They wanted to show Sozonius a sacred ritual to them before he left, he wasn't aware of the menticide mushrooms being part of it…
Dr. Sozonius Dialogue “They gave me Menticide Mushrooms, and then… that’s the last thing I remember…”
After Sozonius was tricked into eating menticide mushrooms and also gave Sozonius a crown, a crown that would grow into Sozoniuss mind, he shall be the Mushroomos leader… And the new Sozo was made. (literally just think of Ice Age 2 when the lil sloths take Sid to be their fire king, however they don't sacrifice him)
The mushroom on Sozos head is very powerful, it makes me wonder what it is exactly, it gives the person wearing it immortality, but also causes the user to go insane (don't forget that Sozo is also being fed menticide mushrooms) the mushroom crown kinda reminds me of Chemachs crown. It seems to have a mind of its own and a face. I feel like the Mushroomos for days straight made sure to give Sozo a diet of only menticide mushrooms to make him forget everything and to possibly power the mushroom crown. They would constantly tell Sozo that his mind would be open and free, that it would make him feel better, and Sozo being under the influence of the mushroom listened to them.
A Mushroomo Dialogue "Once you taste the Menticide Mushroom your mind will be opened." 
As the years went by so did all the sanity Sozonius had left, but in some moments Sozonius seems to still be aware but not all there. 
Sozo Dialogue “Sozo had friends... Followers... family... now Sozo has mushrooms..."
Sozo over time seems to start to dislike his followers and call them liars. He even becomes quite cruel to his followers. Yet he also mentions that he trusts the lamb and wants the lamb to protect him from his followers which makes me believe that Sozonius is somehow a little aware and fighting against the mushroom crown’s influence. He is mad at the Mushroomos for lying to him, tricking him, making him into who he is now.
 Sozo Dialogue  “No need to thanks Sozo. Build it at your Cult then come back to me. Sozo shall grant you one last gift. Sozo is always fair. Always repays this debts. Not like those LIARS out there."
"You did it! Now I know I can trust you... not like those nasty liars outside. They are always watching, always listening! Here take this. You are Sozo's best friend, you are Sozo's only friend."
"Sozo can trust you now, Sozo will pledge himself to you! You will protect me from those liars outside and bring Sozo mushrooms!"
(Also a side note that my gf brought to my attention last second lol! Apparently parasitic mushrooms rely on insects to spread. That is probably why they tricked Sozonius into staying and eating menticide mushrooms. Maybe it's been that long since they've seen an insect)
SOZOS IMPRISONMENT
So, this next little headcanon of mine is an interesting one and might be confusing to explain. Was Sozonius imprisoned within his own mind while under the control of the mushroom crown? If he was, I can see him being stuck in a sort of loop, imagining his family and friends. Think like Mabel's Bubble from ‘Gravity Falls’ weirdmageddon. Sozonius is trapped in a mental bubble, stuck in a false reality as the now mushroom-infected Sozo takes over his body and actions. 
In Sozonius’s mental bubble he is in a place where trees are big, tall mushrooms and flowers are mushrooms, everywhere he turns its mushrooms. He knows something is wrong, everything is too strange, everyone he loves is there with him but is it real? It feels like he's living in a dream. Sozonius proceeds to talk to his friends and family as if they are actually there in which I noticed that Sozo will talk to the menticide mushrooms as if they are actual people.
Sozo Dialogue “Precious, perfect little mushrooms, Sozo is here now, Sozo will always be here…”
”Sozo is busy now… Sozo must commune with the ‘shrooms.”
As time passes more mushrooms grow in his mind prison, and they keep growing and growing until they start to grow on the people he loves. He knows something is happening, he's going mad, and he starts to search for an exit, he needs to escape this false reality that the mushroom crown has created for him. 
He starts fighting the mushroom crown’s hold on him which causes him to regain some awareness. This is when a part of him realizes he’s been tricked, and he starts refusing everything the Mushroomos give him and becomes cruel to them. However, the lambs have never done him wrong before and the lamb (from the cult) begins to be the only person he can trust. At least until it becomes too much and well… we know Sozo’s fate.
SOZO’S REVIVAL 
So Sozo doesn't get resurrected until all the bishops become mortal (at least in my playthrough)(I might change this to he was part of the cult before the bishops I’m not sure). So all the bishop siblings are in the cult and learning the ways of mortal stuff and Sozo appears around the same time, still the crazy Sozo we know and love. However, he’s still very addicted to the menticide mushrooms and both the Lamb and night workers have found Sozo digging through the mushroom crops like a lil racoon.
Based on the game, Sozo likes to run around the cult and do his own thing; he often looks very spaced out but the moment someone talks to him he starts spitting nonsense before yelling at them to go away. The only people Sozo will talk to are people that give Sozo what he wants, which is menticide mushrooms! If you do that for him he will talk your ear off with nonsense, in conversations with him he will often talk about his followers, them being liars and disgusting little creatures. One day though Sozo’s personality seems to change? He starts to tell the lamb,
 “Sozo was just here, all alone, thinking about mushrooms... Uh, Sozo means Sozo's little Mushroomo followers!”
”Yes,, they must be so lost without Sozo. They love Sozo! Everyone loves Sozo - especially Lamb!”
“Without their great and beloved Sozo, Mushroomos must be so scared... YOU! You must save them! Save them and bring them to Sozo.”
”They will be trapped in Anura. They are always getting captured when they don't have their great Sozo to protect them. Rescue them and bring them to me.”
But when you bring the followers to Sozo he ends up eating them. At first glance you can assume it's just his addiction, in which it most certainly could be! He sees a big mushroom and he's like oooo~ delicious but there's also a possibility of this being Dr. Sozonius’s anger coming out. The whole fighting against the mushroom crown’s influence and realization that he’s been tricked. Maybe a mix of his addiction and anger for what they did to him? I’m not too sure if Sozo eating the Mushroomos was a problem before he joined the cult.
Of course, this addiction must be stopped so the lamb decides enough is enough and refuses to get more Mushroomos. This causes Sozo to dissent and, with little choice, the Lamb has to put him in rehab. I imagine it would’ve been a struggle getting Sozo to the prison without the Red Crown’s help. With the power of an ant that is Sozo’s size it's a miracle he didnt break that pillory while he was in it. Sozo just stayed silent and didn't fight; the person he had put his trust and hope in has imprisoned him. Sozo is a bit depressed at that moment. 
After Sozo has been re-educated, released, and cured of his addiction the mushroom crown finally falls off his head. Which, like I said before, makes me wonder, was it being powered by the menticide mushrooms Sozo has been eating or is it something else?
But Dr. Sozonius talks about some stuff before saying,
Dr. Sozonius Dialogue “I can’t help but feel that I have you to thank for… something. You have my loyalty, I will remain here and serve you. Please, take this!”
Sozonius was ready to live his life rather than reunite with his family in the afterlife. He wasn't expecting to be resurrected after dying in the cult from old age. But Sozonius gave the lamb their loyalty and promised to stay in the cult and serve them. The Lamb had been so kind as to give Sozonius an immortality necklace, the Lamb didn’t want Sozonius to go yet… and Sozo’s heart was too kind and soft. He will have to wait a bit longer to return home to his family, but maybe some good things will come out of staying longer~
Also! Who do we think Sozo was talking to? 
A Mushroomo Dialogue "Who is Sozo talking to when he whispers in the dark...?"
Is he talking to himself? The mushrooms? Or the Fox?
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wannaeatramyeon · 2 years ago
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The Yakuza daughter! S/o x Gun basically made me fangirl as I imagine them being a power couple lol. I now wonder if you got part 2 in that like Goo just discover Gun ring on his hand and a photo of his fiancée/wife in his photo (I just imagine that he took a photo of s/o in a lingerie lol)
Ughhhh Sam, this idea is too fun. Here's a much much quicker follow up with a lot less Yakuza-ness (sorry 🙇🏻‍♀️).
Gun Park x Reader: After I do (feat Goo)
Goo finds out. Follow up to 'I do' fic here
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"How was Japan?"
Goo watches Gun washing the blood from his hands. Something about Gun has changed. He seems... different. Goo couldn't quite put his finger on it. Maybe it was Japan. Maybe it's the guy just being a freakshow as per usual.
Gun side-eyes him. The response is clipped, short, singular.
"Fine."
"Not like you to take an extended leave."
"..."
The lack of answer doesn't deter Goo, all too used to his partner's silence. "Business or personal?"
"..."
"Anything I should worry about?"
"..."
"Are you planning anything?"
"..."
"Did you pick up my Sanrio-"
Gun thrusts his hands in the dryer, the blasts of air drowning out Goo's incessant questioning. Unfortunately, this doesn't last long enough. Nothing ever does once the blonde's curiousity is piqued.
As soon as the whirring stops, Goo opens his mouth once again and Gun finally responds. "No, no and no. Shut up."
Hmph. Looks like Goo won't get anything else from this asshole. With a glint in his eye, he asks his final question, "You owe me for covering your duties. Was Crystal always this annoying?"
Gun reluctantly smiles. "Yes."
.
.
"What does our big bad boss want?"
Gun scans his phone. The message from just moments ago wasn't anything of significance to their mission. Although. The selfie of you in a seductive pose and risque underwear might be a distraction.
He appreciates it for a beat longer then locks the device. "It's not our boss."
That's the end of that conversation. Or so he thought.
"Huh?" Goo's eyes dart over to him with increasing frequency and the car starts to swerve.
Gun will not die by his hand because this fucking maniac can't keep his eyes on the road. Begrudgingly, he elaborates, "It's personal."
The blonde's eyes bulge out at this admission, "During work hours? Who wants to text a mean bastard like you?"
For fuck's sake. Can't this fucking idiot ever mind his own business.
Goo continues, "Who the hell would even want to be friends with you? I hope you're not plotting anything against me..." A malicious snicker, "Or are you dating? You should introduce me to them, they must be a firecracker!"
Gun tunes out his partner, a skill he has long mastered.
But when his phone buzzes for the third time in as many minutes, with you no doubt sending yet another racy image, Gun has to physically restrain himself from looking (and internally curses you for your poor timing).
Goo tries to swipe at the phone. "Hey, let me text back!"
Gun moves it effortlessly out of arm's reach. "If you're not going to keep those eyes on the road, then I can just pluck them from your head."
"You're no fun." Goo pouts, narrowly missing driving into a ravine.
.
.
"Oppa~ do you want a bite of this sushi?"
"No."
"Are you sure? It's really delicious!"
"..."
"Just a little taste!"
"Come near me again, I'll jam the sushi and the chopsticks down your throat."
"Ahhh~! Goo, your friend is so mean!"
What the fuck? Gun seems to be in an even more sour mood than usual. The last time the both of them were at this Gangnam bar, Gun had no issues with the women. Someone to warm his bed for the night, he had figured.
This evening though? He didn't even bat an eyelid in their direction.
"Gun! You can at least be nice to these sweethearts!" Goo snaps.
"No." Gun replies simply, getting up to leave.
What a fucking weirdo, Goo thinks. Oh well, more sushi for me.
.
.
"Since when did you wear jewellery?"
Goo snatches Gun's left hand, pulling it up to his face and holding it so close he is cross-eyed behind his glasses.
He absolutely has not seen this before, his brows furrow at this very odd addition. A plain, silver-coloured ring wrapped around the fourth finger.
Yanking his hand back, Gun responds. "Since I want to."
"A plain ring? On that finger?" Goo trails after him as he strides off, "You know what that means right? Wait..."
Goo completely stops in his tracks, "A couple band? Engagement? Are you...?"
Gun completely ignores him, increasing the distance between them.
No fucking way, right? The simple band on his hand is definitely something, but-
There's just-
No. fucking. way.
Who the fuck would be able to put up with Gun Park?
.
.
"Who's that?" Goo peers at the picture of the smokeshow on Gun's phone, catching a glimpse just before he tucks it into his pocket.
Having that image is certainly... a choice. Who is she though? A new k-pop idol? Gun doesn't seem like the type that would have an image of an idol or a celebrity as their background.
"My wife."
"WHAT THE FUCK?"
"Focus." Gun commands, as a gang of men come at them with knives and baseball bats.
"WHAT THE FUCK?" Goo repeats, ducking to avoid a slash.
"I said, focus." Gun easily tanks a couple hits before returning some of his own.
"WHAT THE-" Goo's words are cut short as some thug takes advantage of his diverted attention and knocks his glasses off.
"FUCK- Fine." Goo elbows the guy in the solar plexus then easily plucks the baseball bat from his now slack grip. "Let me just borrow this~"
.
.
"You must be Goo Kim!"
Turning on the hostess charm, you note how Goo has to almost literally pick his jaw off the floor with your entrance.
Gun leans against the doorframe, observing with quiet smugness at the reaction. You had dropped in at the HNH offices to join Gun for lunch. Usually he would pick a better time and place but the level of questioning from Goo had already surpassed absurd levels ever since he found out Gun was married.
The last few weeks had been hell.
"When did you get married?! You didn't invite me to the wedding? I wasn't your best man? Tell me, who was it! I'll beat them up! When can I meet your bride? Or are you scared I'll charm her away?"
And Gun had promised you a partnership of equals. With your short time in South Korea, you had more than enough proved your usefulness and loyalty. It's about time he cuts you in on the Crew business.
He surmises this is a way to kill two birds with one stone.
You're Gun's wife? This absolute knockout? With him? That fucking boring asshole?
Goo would have thought this is Gun's twisted idea of a prank if he hadn't found out that the guy barely had a sense of humour a long time ago. That time had almost ended in stitches for Goo.
"Mrs. Park!" He gives you a theatrical bow, "I've been so looking forward to working with you!"
"Just call me Y/N," you giggle.
Goo takes your hand, pressing a loud smooch to the top of it. Gun's entire body tenses at the contact. This does not go unnoticed by you.
You retract your hand back, subtly wiping the kiss away, "I can't wait to get stuck into all the details."
"Of course, Y/N!"
"There won't be any trouble from you, right, Goo?"
"Princess, don't you trust me?"
You look Goo dead in the eye, seeing through the fake hurt on his face and dropping your own act.
"No. And," you grab onto his crotch, digging in your nails as Goo yelps, "If there is even a whiff of anything amiss then I'm coming after your balls." Your grip tightens as he tries without success to push you off, "Got it?"
"ACK!! Fuck! Got it, got it!"
You release him, relishing at his squeal.
"If you've broken anything," Goo scowls, struggling to stand and cradling himself tenderly. "Ugh, you two are fucking made for each other. Psychos."
Gun arrives at your side with a smirk, he guides you by the small of your back, leading you out.
"Not bad," he murmurs into your ear, "You were wasted in Japan."
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batsplat · 7 months ago
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as our resident Casey expert i wonder what do you think would have happened if marc and casey competed against each other? since casey retiring is so important for marc coming into motogp im always thinking abt the what ifs...
my initial instinct with this hypothetical is always 'that sounds horrible', though I do have more thoughts and opinions about it than that! marc obviously would have loved the chance to race casey, and casey has even been one of his picks of 'guys he would've liked to be teammates with' before, so, you know, clearly something there - and he does very much respect casey as a rider. I think it's quite likely that by the time marc entered the premier class, casey had already developed... I don't know if wariness is going too far, but maybe a little bit of unease or caution where marc was concerned. marc already very much had a reputation based on his 125/moto2 track record, and some of these incidents were controversial enough that the motogp riders commented on them. so take the phillip island 2011 incident where marc rode into the back of another rider:
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the valentino quote serves as a bit of a benchmark here, given he was generally pretty pro-marc. yes, casey's phrasing is perhaps a little harsher, but unsurprisingly none of the riders were big fans of marc's behaviour in that particular incident
on the other hand, it's not like casey never sided with marc. take catalunya 2012, where marc was slapped with a controversial post-race penalty:
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yes, casey's main complaint was about inconsistent stewarding - but still, he believed marc had been unfairly treated here. feels like these incidents were some of the only things casey and valentino actually agreed on in those years, so that's nice
that being said, it's hard to see how casey wouldn't have his issues with marc and marc's whole approach to racing. I did include some thoughts on the teammate question here, but mainly I'm going to pilfer the relevant autobiography passage:
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"if a rider doesn't care about his own safety then it stands to reason he doesn't care about anybody else's either"... there's nobody really who embodies the 'doesn't care about his own safety' maxim better than marc. he was the young rider desperate to win, and I can't imagine casey would have enjoyed actually racing him much. casey mostly didn't enjoy racing valentino, after all, who is a generally a lot more selective with his aggression than marc is (though casey did have to experience some of the worst valentino had to offer in that regard). casey talked in his autobiography about getting a sense when he just wasn't really able to trust another rider on the track, how much it bothered him - and that exact lack of respect is something that's been pretty closely associated with marc. that doesn't mean he would immediately declare marc his enemy... he'd just want marc to change, to learn, to grow up, to start treating his competitors with a little more respect. the way casey talks about young riders, there is a sense in which he has more time for them than he does for valentino - whose lack of respect casey views as more integral to who he is as a rider. valentino isn't a bully on track due to the exuberance of youth, he's a bully on track when he thinks he can use it as a tactic of intimidation. then again, marc by this measure is worse... and I think very quickly casey would have grown pretty disenchanted with how marc approaches all his wheel-to-wheel racing, especially when it becomes more and more clear marc does not feel particularly inclined to change
it's always important to remember how recent the trauma of losing simoncelli was for the whole sport, and it coloured both dani and jorge's wariness of marc... but also (in my opinion anyway) their restraint in how they dealt with him. how they tried to stop themselves from actually making an enemy out of him, in part because they'd just had an experience of harshly criticising a rider for a whole year and then having to process his death. both dani and jorge actually had more public and more serious disagreements with simoncelli than casey did, but I reckon there would have been an element of that restraint with casey too... on the other hand, his experiences with marc would have left him feeling even more alienated from the sport than he already was - at times frustrated (like jorge was) less with marc directly but more with the regulatory bodies for not holding marc back, for not giving him a race ban or whatever to teach him a lesson. that being said, marc's shamelessness vs casey's stubbornness means that if they had direct on-track encounters and casey didn't like marc's post-race response... well, I certainly think that'd end up being a pretty tense situation, even if it falls short of active hostilities
worth including irl!casey's take on marc in 2013:
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which, you know. it's not just that marc's a hard racer - casey is accusing marc of deliberately wanting to make the defeats extra painful for his opponents, of wanting to not just beat but humiliate them. anyone else that reminds you of? someone who is as motivated in securing his psychological victories as his actual ones? perhaps someone who has a bit of a history himself with casey?
let's bring in valentino. it's not that casey would really have begrudged marc his friendship with valentino, and he generally kept his hatred of valentino quite 'clean' in that he wasn't conducting any proxy wars or anything (for instance, I don't get the sense the vale/sic friendship ever affected his view of simoncelli... though I have very little to go on here either way). also, if nothing else in this timeline changes, we're assuming valentino in 2013 is fairly clearly the... fifth? best rider? kinda depends where dani would have landed I suppose (casey's retirement announcement did save honda from a bit of a headache)... but anyway what this means is that valentino probably wouldn't initially have been much of a competitive threat to casey. mostly he would have been consigned to the sidelines
that being said, I doubt casey would have massively enjoyed the whole laguna seca saga. unfortunately, we don't even really know what real life casey's stance on the copycat move situation was... though if I had to guess, in this timeline I'd say his position would've been, a) marc could and should have carried out that overtake two corners later, there was no need in that race situation to take that risk, b) still, it was valentino's slight error as he attempted to reclaim the position (in what was a pretty aggressive manner, it has to be said) that led to them both ending up off-track and fuck that guy, and c) the problem with 2008 wasn't just or even primarily the corkscrew overtake and it's annoying that that's the only bit everyone talks about. of course, there's also the question of whether casey would have bought marc's explanation that it was totally by coincidence that the overtake happened there... and again, complete guesswork, but my sense of casey is that he would have assumed marc was being at least a little bit dishonest. (which, you know... laguna's not an easy track to overtake at, but marc did prove with the bradl move that he was perfectly capable of overtaking after turn 8 - might not have been planning on the off-track excursion, but he was still attempting to overtake just ahead of a blind crest that happened to feed into the corkscrew lol.) I think casey by his honda days had calmed down a bit (though he still certainly had some conspiratorial tendencies), but I also don't think it's a stretch to imagine that he would've felt like he was a victim of a joke between the pair of them... not ideal
overall though, I reckon casey's main frustrations would have been less with the move itself and more with how it was discussed. in the presser, while joking with marc, valentino does take the opportunity to get in a jibe at casey for old time's sake. there's this clip, where he directly addresses livio suppo (at ducati in 2008, by then at honda) - specifically about how both casey and suppo criticised him for that overtake. in response, suppo says something about how he's grateful to marc because they finally got payback. valentino is later asked directly about casey's complaints in 2008 in this clip, and replies with the following:
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would valentino have said this stuff with casey still in the paddock? well, yes! honestly, given valentino did very quickly lay off needling casey once he had retired, there's a good chance he would have said something worse. and marc would have laughed along at the whole thing. I don't know, I just don't see casey taking particularly kindly to that... he can hold a grudge, that man can, and at a certain point he'd probably be increasingly less willing to give marc the benefit of the doubt. interesting situation though, laguna seca '13 + casey is a very juicy scenario that could play out in several different ways
but I'm guilty of burying the lede here - there's a far more obvious reason than anything I've described above for why the casey/marc relationship would have turned sour. it's the simple fact that they would have been teammates which would do the damage all on its lonesome; they have radically different conceptualisations of how that dynamic is supposed to work and would inevitably have clashed as a result. the one commonality they do have is they don't see their teammates as potential friends, which is... also not helpful! I think they'd probably initially be fine on the interpersonal level - and, actually, given how the casey/valentino relationship played out and marc's general approach to his rivalries, I can see marc/casey more or less being able to maintain a minimum standard of politeness towards each other even at their worst. like, I still think they'd be able to smile at each other and do some small talk when face-to-face, but I also think everything else would be a complete disaster. I talked a bit about how marc approaches his teammate relationships in this post - and I'm not going to rehash too much of what irl!marc got up to, but I'll include some bits relevant to casey
from marc:
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related to casey:
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and dani comparing the two:
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we do obviously even have actual real life controversy wherein casey thinks marc felt threatened by him and forced him out of honda... and this in a timeline where they weren't even direct competitors! if this is the level of tension a test rider role can generate, then if they'd actually been teammates...? yeah, no. casey thinks that teammates should cooperate - and he thinks that riders enforcing divisions within the box are essentially doing so because they are "afraid". marc has openly admitted to lying about what parts he likes to make sure his teammate doesn't get any edge over him. this is the thing, right: marc might think casey is a cool rider, would've liked the chance to race him and even be teammates with him... but this is the stuff he did to dani, who was one of his literal idols! this is his understanding of competition - (like valentino) he might love the fight, but simultaneously he'll do pretty much whatever it takes to win, because he considers this stuff fundamentally part of the game. casey does not. to casey, this kind of victory is dishonest. any kind of gamesmanship is a sign of weakness... the victory is worth less if you're accomplishing it like that
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now, hey, maybe marc would never have been able to go as far as he did with dani because he wouldn't have the kind of performance edge that allows you to definitively impose your will within the team. I think it's a popular interpretation that marc wouldn't have won the title in 2013 if casey had been there, which... I mean, I think it's true that it would have been less likely - in that in a season with that much volatility, the more plausible championship contenders you have the less likely it is that any single one of them takes the title (same goes for instance if you add in a valentino who had not gone to ducati for two years and would have presumably been more competitive in 2013). but it's not like casey would have been the defending champion and the clear class of the field... partly due to injury, he ended up finishing in third in 2012. jorge and dani didn't win the 2013 title in part as a result of their own injuries, and who knows how casey would have fared... like sometimes it's just luck of the draw really. you can be the better rider and still not win the title, shit happens. I think for as long as a more or less healthy-ish casey stays in the sport, it would have been unlikely that marc establishes quite the same performance edge as he did over dani... but, well, if anything that would have meant he would have fought even harder out of perceived necessity to win the internal honda wars
it's the kind of thing that can make a relationship quickly deteriorate, especially with a prickly character such as casey, and it's entirely plausible that dynamic would have become strained at best and horrendously toxic at worst... sooner rather than later. and the thing is, this environment would affect marc considerably less than it would casey. again, it's the fact that he relishes the fight... he's very good at shrugging off (most) criticism and thrives in that kind of tension. the emotional fatigue that this scenario generates would be painfully lopsided, where casey offers harsh criticisms and means them and is endlessly frustrated with marc's approach, while marc... doesn't really care. at least dani also had a questionable manager who was conducting behind the scenes warfare on his behalf - casey doesn't want to play these games at all. he just wants to ride a bike, and marc is never going to allow him to live in peace as long as he's an internal threat. if casey were exposed directly to all of that from marc, I doubt he'd walk away from the experience with a particularly positive impression of him
does he walk away? I think there's a decent chance that casey would have ended up so disillusioned with the whole thing that this would have been what pushed him into retirement. if he wants to get out of that mess, let's say after two years, his options would have been pretty limited. yamaha is closed off and I'd struggle to think of a scenario in which either jorge or valentino would have been particularly interested in a direct swap (also, if you're sick of being marc's teammate, you're probably not gonna be jumping at the chance to be valentino's instead). I suppose you could go back to ducati (which he did return to as a test rider so it's not like those bridges were permanently burnt), and maybe casey could do something special even with *gestures* that version of the bike. really though... I think enough would have been enough for him. regardless of the actual balance of success between the pair of them, my guess is marc wins that war because he's happier to get nasty and because he wants it more. casey has his two to four titles... he's done. let him go fishing
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cheemscakecat · 9 months ago
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Why Emesis Blue Medic should be taken off the Gravel War Battlefield.
My overall Em Blue theory is that it’s a shared nightmare, so keep that in mind for this post.
So we know Dr Ludwig has been diagnosed with Schizophrenia by somebody at BLU. The reason we know this is because he gave Scout the same medicine that he’s been taking, which you wouldn’t do if you had two different issues going on.
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If you were Scout and your doctor friend was addicted to this medicine, you wouldn’t want to get addicted yourself. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if Scout theorizes that the medicine is part of the problem.
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So here’s my theory on what mental health problem is plaguing BLU Medic:
Because he was roughly 6 when the N*zis took power in 1933 and Jewish, Fritz had a lot of trauma from a young age. He developed DID, formerly known as Multiple Personality Disorder [it can only develop from childhood trauma]. His parents and doctors were limited in what they could do because of the state of the country; they also thought his hallucinations of other personalities were imaginary friends.
When he escaped to America as an adult, he decided to join BLU in the hopes that other mercenaries would be willing to go fight against Germany in the war. But then the first respawn failures happened, and he got roped into being an “expert” on the issue.
Spy’s Disguise gave us a brief window into what was happening to the doctor during the respawn crisis.
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He hasn’t been sleeping well. He’s got an exposed cut on his face, a five o’clock shadow, and bags under his eyes.
He didn’t speak or blink for any of the scenes he was in, which was off putting to Engineer. He even showed them what was wrong using a VHS, not his words.
Overall, he seems aloof and unapproachable, which is different to how he acted in Em Blue.
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We know Jules Archibald must be a hack since Soldier and Spy had a nightmare where he’s callously letting people die for money. If he’s too posh to defend himself like he was in Spy’s perspective, he’s got to be too posh to deal with respawn failure gore.
But that wouldn’t stop him and his crew from holding Medic to a high standard when it came to his work, even if they didn't really want to spend money to fix the problem. I imagine the Administrator was the one that had to “motivate” them to allocate funds, and it would take her a while to get fed up.
So in the meantime, Ludwig developed a new, scarier personality to help him deal with Jules and new respawn failure trauma.
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He was the one in control when CyberSpy was examined, and when he was given the bad news about his condition.
We know the doctor still doesn't understand his condition because of the nightmare versions of his other personalities.
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This is the nightmare version of the unblinking, mute personality from the funeral. But he’s not the only personality that Fritz is afraid of.
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This hallucination gives us more insight into how the doctor views his other personalities. 1. They are trying to trick him and other people. Whichever one this nightmare is based off of is good at pretending to be him.
2. They hate him. He woke up with blood on his hands and no memory of why. The nightmare got angry that he tried to wash the blood off himself. It didn’t hesitate to hurt him.
3. They love violence, and they want to hurt him. This one choked him out and slammed his head into the mirror. And again, he woke up with blood on his hands.
Him unknowingly killing Scout’s Ma and kidnapping the poor guy happened because he’s afraid that these personalities want to do that. He’s afraid that they’re plotting something and biding their time, Em Blue is the manifestation of what he thinks they’re up to.
The plague doctor was reaching towards him like it was going to be fake nice, despite all of its terrifying features. He thinks that one is trying to lull him into a false sense of security.
He’s wrong about them, and we have proof. We have the actual personality that the mirror monster is based off of, and a long scene with him in control.
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This is the personality that developed to deal with RED mercs on the battlefield. That’s why he’s so good at fighting and acts so terrifying.
Now imagine for a moment that you black out during a fight, and when you come to your team is freaking out over you. They say you started beating the RED team senseless, with a terrifying grin that nobody has seen from you before. You don’t remember any of it, and unfortunately it’s only the first of many times this will happen.
That’s Dr Ludwig’s perspective. He doesn’t know what they want. He doesn’t know what they are or how to get rid of them. They keep appearing in the corner of his office or his room, if you watch him talk to Scout in his MedBay, he keeps looking around like he expects another person to be there. He just wants it to stop, so he starts relying on Valium as a crutch.
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The bottle reveal is an interesting scene to me, because Emesis Diazepam horrifies the doctor. It must be something he knows is dangerous, and he’d never take knowingly.
Here are some symptoms of long term Valium/Diazepam abuse
Persistent drowsiness
Confusion
Memory loss
Fatigue
Dizziness
Blood in urine/feces
Depression
Anxiety
Tremors
Sleeping problems
Nightmares
Hallucinations
Seizures
Here are the overdose symptoms:
Coma [can still breathe]
Bluish lips and fingernails
Blurred/double vision
Slowed/stopped breathing
Confusion
Depression
Dizziness
Drowsiness
Excitability
Hiccups
Rapid eye movement
Rash
Stomach is upset/pained
Tiredness
Tremors
Uncoordinated movement and weakness
I think the bottle reveal is meant to be a wake up call about the Valium addiction. Maybe the other personalities know he should stop taking it, we do see the quiet one standing behind him afterwards.
DID personalities develop to protect a person from their trauma and keep them safe. Sometimes these personalities can be dangerous because they believe that they are demons, evil, or that destroying the host body will just send them back to their own. People wake up parked on bridges and in other odd places because another personality took control then switched back.
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But in every scene where we get to see the others in control, they appear to be trying to help Fritz, not make things worse. The quiet one was trying to keep him safe from Spy and the people at BLU that made him a scapegoat. The violent one was attacking the Engineers to try and save both Medic and Scout, and probably tried to take control at Scout’s house so he could deal with BLU Ma’s body instead.
When the ambulance crashed into the telephone pole, that was because the quiet one over exerted himself and blacked out. But remaining parked outside of Scout’s house and waking up may well have happened because of the Valium abuse. The medicine is causing more symptoms that overlap with DID, and exacerbating the distrust that Fritz feels towards the others.
This doesn’t make him a bad guy, he doesn’t know what he’s doing to himself or that the others are trying to help him. The quiet one is terrifying, and seeing him in the corner of your room would get on your nerves. Blacking out and being told about actions you don’t remember doing would be terrifying, and I don’t blame him for assuming the personalities are malicious.
Maybe it would be better for BLU Medic to keep working as BLU since it’s become home, but not as a battle Medic. First he needs to reconcile with the others and understand what they are trying to do. Then they need to work together to decide whether he should retire or stay at the familiar base. But he’s having too many issues to be fighting other mercenaries.
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The Spies and RED Medic that looks exactly like him are just going to confuse matters more, whether they know it or not. They gotta get another BLU Medic to fight on the field, this can’t go on.
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the1entirecircus · 9 months ago
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Violent Apprentices
MEANWHILE in the bat cave, our heroes talk about their periling issues...
Flash (Barry Allen): ...and now he's back from the dead, and while he isn't killing as many people as before, he is still hurting people to extreme!
Batman: And did August have this level of violence before he became Godspeed?
Flash: No, August was like any other officer in the CCPD. Which is saying something, we have one of the nicer police forces in the country. (That's just a headcanon. Yes ACAB, but these bastards are nice)
Batman: The way you're describing him reminds me of one my old protege. Jason Todd.
Flash: The Red Hood?
Batman: Yes. Except, Jason learned the hard way of why he shouldn't kill. Although he did return to using guns.
Flash: Really? That's seems very...reductive.
Batman: Yeah, I was surprised too.
Flash: Heh, imagine if they met. Wouldn't that be terrific.
Batman: Don't make me laugh, Barry. It would be the end of the world if that happened.
Flash: Yeah it would...
*Meanwhile in a more crime-orientated area of Central City, danger was afoot as the Red Hood monitored Penguin and Captain Cold and The Rogues.*
Penguin: As you can see here, we have the latest equipment in subzero freezing based weaponry. Perfect for handling those pesky speedsters! Wank!
Captain Cold: How much for the freeze grenades?
Red Hood: Snart, they're free if you really wanted them.
*All weapon were aimed at the anti-hero, ready to fire.*
Penguin: RED HOOD?! You followed me all the way here!
Red Hood, with both of his guns brought out: Yeah, because you're not supposed to be here. Now pack things up, and waddle your ass back to Blackgate before I make.
Captain Cold: I don't think you're the one to talk here. Me, my buds and sis take on the Flash every day. A guy who looks like he came from Mortal Kombat and carries guns doesn't scare us.
Red Hood: Really? Well, I've fought Mr. Freeze before. You're just a watered down copy.
Captain Cold: Oh you are so...*a look of fear strikes Cold's face*...MIRROR MASTER NOW!
*Mirror Master rapidly fired his mirror gun at the equipment the Penguin had presented. Penguin squaked both from fury and surprise. He cursed at Captain Cold as he and the Rogues teleported away in a flash of light. But then came a brighter light. A white blinding light. Screams from Penguin's men followed as the light zoomed around the area. Red Hood reached for something in his utility belt but stopped when the white blur caught and picked up Penguin.*
Penguin: What are you??
*The man in the white and gold costume resembling the Flash's uniform pulled the crime lord closer.*
"I am Godspeed"
Red Hood: Put the crime lord down!
*Godspeed glared at Red Hood and the guns he pointed at him with. The masked vigilante tossed Penguin aside and approached the Gothamite. Red Hood pointed at Penguin.*
Red Hood: Go anywhere, and I will make you a legless bird, got it?
Godspeed: I can stop a pullet the second it leaves a gun, who do you think you are?
Red Hood: I'm Red Hood, I usually work in Gotham City.
Godspeed: Red Hood...the crime lord?
Red Hood: For a time, now I just do vigilante work against Gotham's elites. Basically what batman did before the crazies arrived.
*Red Hood walked over and cuffed Penguin.*
Red Hood: I'm starved, wanna grab some Big Belly Burger?
Godspeed: ...why not?
---
*our Anti-heroes munched and chewed on their burgers as they discussed their various adventures as masked vigilantes while sitting in a big belly burger.*
Red Hood: Are you sure you didn't hear of me? Because I had similar reasoning when I fought Batman. Although it was focused on just killing the Joker.
Godspeed: That was 100% my idea, I had no intentions of copying your actions. I also fully intended on killing everyone in the Flash's rogues gallery. But I did emphasize Reverse Flash because he killed Flash's mom. I honestly thought Flash would agree with me. I feel dumb for thinking that now, and for wanting to kill those people.
Red Hood: Mutual feelings, except I'll never feel bad for trying to kill Joker. That fucker has it coming.
Godspeed: How is he still alive? I know the Gotham justice system is bad, but I didn't think it was that terrible?
Red Hood: It is shit, but he just keeps coming back. Rumor has it, he's immortal. I don't believe it though. I think he was just a guy who wanted attention.
Godspeed: That makes more sense to me. He does seem like an attention whore. Reverse Flash is similar in my opinion. Except he specifically wants the attention from Flash. I mean he did kill my brother just to help motivate me into being Godspeed so that I would be enemies with the Flash.
Red Hood: He killed your brother? Joker killed my mom the same day he killed me! Well, he used a bomb, but still.
Godspeed: Joker killed you? Reverse Flash killed me!
Red Hood: That is so coincidentally strange!
Godspeed: I know!
"Oh you have got to be kidding me..."
*Both vigilantes look and see Barry Allen in his civilian clothing*
Red Hood: (Whispering) Is that...?
Godspeed: (whispers back) Yup. (speaks normally) What? Never seen two vigilantes eating at Big Belly Burger?
Red Hood: They do it all the time in Bat Burger over in Gotham.
Barry: ...I'm tired.
---
Flash: (while running through Central City) And so they're just talking about how similar they are. I think they're friends now.
Batman: (in the bat cave listening to the communication link) I'm not surprised, Red Hood was following a lead that Penguin was going to give new weapons to the Rogues.
Flash: Oh...wait what?!
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juliwuzhere · 3 months ago
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Got any Max headcannons?
I think one of the headcannons I often include in my daydreams or writing is the idea of his parents, before camp had been something they could sign up Max for, making him do a TON of other activities. And it didn’t stop after Max meet the age requirement for camp Campbell. When Max isn’t at camp, he’s doing all the other activities he is forced to do after school or on weekends. Sure, most of them his parents probably signed him out of due to them being too expensive or because Max complained too much, but for the most part, he has done an extensive amount of activities. The first activity that came to mind after reading this post? He’s probably done it and mastered it.
I mean seriously, this kid has only been doing gymnastics for a couple months. He had from august all the way to June to practice gymnastics, and he’s already so good at it the show writers had to make him do the obstacle course off screen?! (Actually it was probably because of the budget, but you get my point.)
And not just that, did you see the way he wielded that spear back in season 1 when Ered took over camp? I’m sorry, but that kind of skill with a spear isn’t just built into baby’s from birth.
Im also of the firm belief that most, if not all, of Max’s clothing is either too big or too small. Listen, I don’t think his parents are extremely abusive, physically or mentally. I think, like Max said, they don’t care. They give him the bare necessities a kid needs, food, clothes, a roof over his head; however, they do just that, the bare minimum. Let’s be frank here, they probably don’t know his size in any piece of clothing. A hoodie is actually a pretty good nod at that fact. Hoodies aren’t very tight like a t shirt, so they could get him an Medium or large and it’s not that obvious how big the hoodie is.
This also leads to my third head cannon. Of course, his parents give clothes and food, but most of the time it’s leftovers or just ingredients. Which means that Max most likely cooks really well.
Another one I have, and this one may get me burned at the stake, is that Max’s hair doesn’t look that bad in the morning. Now, hear me out! I get it, imagining Max having a birds nest in the morning is pretty funny. But I honestly think that after the events that occurred at Spooky Island, Max, Sasha, and Pikemen, whether they want to admit it or not, did grow a friendship. Sure, it isn’t a very nice friendship and Pikemen still attacks the camp, but they are a lot more friendlier towards each other. Because of this, I know that Sasha definitely helped him develop a skin and hair care routine. (The skin routine is more eye bag related since they’re like 11) Before the events of season 4, yeah he probably looked like shit most days, but the year after that? You could give Max shit about his attitude, but definitely not his appearance. For all I know, Sasha bought him some cologne or some crap.
He definitely has insomnia, I mean cmon. This kid has saved the camp from a cultist, the woodscouts, etc. I’m sure he has at least SOME issues sleeping. I sure would if I knew the guy who had brainwashed me and my friends and tried to kill us was still OUT THERE. (In Antartica possibly, but still.)
This technically applies to my previous head cannon but whatever. He can play guitar, just doesn’t want David to know because he will 100% force Max to play at the campfire. Max would thrust himself into the bonfire before you saw him agree to do that.
Max is really good at sports and in term is very competitive. But like, he’s both of these things but…terrifyingly so. Sorry, gonna go on a tangent to explain my thought process but hear me out for a second. I’m actually planning on writing a fanfic about Nerris learning hypnotism (they think it’s the closest thing to real magic) and accidentally actually doing it to Max after failed attempts on all the campers while at a sleepover. David catches them because it’s past there curfew and, to get out of trouble, Nerris decides to compromise with him. They tell David that if he lets all of the campers go without having to clean the messhall or whatever punishment he’s going to give them, Nerris would make Max actually participate in the camp activities. One thing leads to another and Max ends up actually doing all the activities with no complaining. But turns out, he’s way too good. None of the campers can actually beat him in anything, not even there own activities. Soccer, basketball, tennis, pickleball, archery, rock climbing, he can do it all. But like, imagine playing with someone who beats you every time and in less than a couple seconds. Obviously, everyone is mortified and decide to never give Max crap for not participating.
TLDR, Max doesn’t participate in activities because a) He doesn’t feel like playing games with people who can’t serve a volleyball, because you have to remember that most of these kids are probably really un athletic or nerdy, and b) Although he doesn’t want to admit it, he doesn’t want to be that kind of dick. After the events of the last summer, he’s not as rude. But of course, he still talks shit about their skills.
Sorry it took me so long to reply, if you couldn’t tell I got too excited writing this. Thanks for asking! I love answering and talking about story ideas and camp camp headcanons. Especially Max since he’s my favorite character (basic, I know, shut up imaginary hater.)
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