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kamaluhkhan · 3 months ago

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WE DESERVE A SOFT EPILOGUE, MY LOVE.

pairing: vi x firelight!reader word count: 2k summary: after years of thinking her dead, ekko brings vi to the firelight base. you don't really know how to react when the girl you grew up loving is now a woman you know nothing about and still, somehow, feel everything for. warnings: arcane level angst + lesbian yearning. reader is referred to with she/her pronouns. reader has tattoos and a star-shaped birthmark behind her ear (y'all know vi loves a nickname and i thought 'stargirl' was v cute so i had to make it work). fic gets slightly suggestive at the end ;) author's note: happy act iii release day!!! i wrote this instead of working on my thesis oops. in my defense, vi has sparked something in me that i simply cannot ignore. i'm also working on a werewolf! pitfighter!vi x vampire slayer!reader fic (set in the same universe, just with a slight twist) sooo that might be done before part 2 of this fic (which is where the smut happens hehe). anyways, thank you for reading!

inspired by that quote: "i think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. we are good people and we've suffered enough" by nikka ursula

even after all these years, vi is still the first one to notice you.

her eyes widen as she hesitates to pull away from ekko, but you clear your throat to catch both of their attentions.

“i thought we were gonna question her together.”

ekko wipes a stray tear from his cheek and stands up a little straighter.

“you were taking too long,” he shrugs. “don’t worry — she’s clean.”

you trust ekko’s judgement, but you still can’t reckon with the fact that vi is alive. you’d splashed cold water on your face just before to make sure you weren’t dreaming.

“i don’t know.” you walk closer until you’re standing arms length from vi. “the vi i knew wouldn’t be caught dead with a topsider, let alone an enforcer.”

you examine her carefully, and you imagine she’s doing the same to you. vi looks more grown up — stronger and sharper. you’d spent so much time in limbo, not knowing if she were alive or dead. you aren’t sure how to react when the girl you grew up loving is now a woman you know nothing about and still, somehow, feel everything for.

“i guess the shoddy undercut is a pretty clear give away,” you deadpan.

vi quirks an eyebrow at you. “shoddy, huh? you know, your tattoos look like they were drawn by blindfolded children.”

she smiles, all bright and toothy. the scar on her upper lip stretches, achingly familiar, and you decide there’s nothing you want to do more than to bring her into your arms, to bring her closer, so you do.

her hair tickles your cheek as you whisper:

“i did those tattoos myself.”

vi chuckles, and you feel it vibrate across her body to yours.

“i know. they’re beautiful.” her index finger traces the star-shaped birthmark behind your ear; you shiver. “i was just messing with you, stargirl.”

vi was the only one who ever called you that, said you made her life brighter or some other sweet nothing that would effortlessly fall from her mouth.

gods, she was the first one who even noticed that birthmark on your skin.

“i was messing with you, too. the hair — you look hot.”

you feel her heart beating faster against your chest as she smiles into your shoulder.

she’s here.

she’s not some ghost from your past.

she’s really here.

you’re so overwhelmed by how solid she is against you that you start to pull away, but vi catches your hand before you can fully untangle yourself from her.

“that’s all i get?” she wonders, licking her lips.

you’re tempted, very tempted, to give her more. maybe you would have, until ekko clears his throat behind you.

“should i….give y’all a moment?” ekko asks. “i’ll go get the piltie.”

you then remember who vi came here with; she might not be working for silco, but you stand by your suspicions at her bringing a topsider to the lanes.

you slip your hand from hers. you roll your shoulders back as if that would really shake away the hold she’s always had on you.

time has passed. things have changed. neither of you are kids anymore, and you don't have the luxury of indulging in a frivolous crush.

“it's fine, e. let’s show them around.”

“still a night owl, i see.”

vi finds you perched on one of the trees highest branches, surrounded by firelights as you sketch something. you close your sketchbook instantly and place it on the other side of you when vi sits down.

“thought you’d be in bed with that enforcer of yours.”

“her name’s caitlyn.”

“caitlyn,” you scoff, shaking your head.

the bitterness you try to hide is all too transparent to vi, who has to bite back a laugh at your pettiness.

“you say her name like you’re gonna hex her. never pegged you as a jealous ex.”

“technically, we never broke up,” you point out.

a firelight lands on your hand, and you let it crawl up the lines etched on your skin.

“if that’s the case, i owe you an apology for cheating on you when i was in prison.”

you frown, but say nothing, your eyes following that same firelight as it illuminates your tattoos.

“don’t worry, i’m kidding!” vi pauses. “mostly.”

the firelight flies away, and you huff out an annoyed breath.

“whatever. i don’t care who you’ve fucked, or who you’re fucking. and, you don’t owe me anything. it’s not like we’re anything to each other, anymore.”

vi sucks in a sharp breath — she wouldn’t have expected such harsh words from you.

“is that why you can’t even look at me?” she finally asks.

you’d been strictly business since you first reunited hours ago. you expertly distanced yourself from vi all throughout the tour of the firelights’ base, and throughout dinner, too.

where’s the girl she’d spend hours goofing around with, who always had a witty response to her sarcastic remarks, who smiled at her in such a way that made her chest glow? where’s the girl who brightened vi’s life when it seemed like the darkness would never leave?

“i don’t know,” you admit. “part of me still can’t believe you’re alive. i know that i should be happy that you are, but i keep thinking about everything i could have done to protect you, and powder —”

“hey. it’s my job to worry about everyone, remember?”

“you weren’t here.”

“i am now.”

she gently moves your chin so that you face her, so that you can see that she’s not going anywhere, at least for tonight.

which is probably more time than either of you thought you’d ever have together again.

vi notices how your eyes flick down to her lips and back up, and she feels something spark in her chest. but then, you shake your head as though trying to wake up from a dream and turn away once more.

“that enforcer of yours —”

“she’s not my —”

“whoever she is, she talked about how we all need to heal. i just keep thinking about what you’ve been through, what we’ve all been through…. how it never really stops. healing would be nice, but it’s hard when you have to keep fighting every day. you remember what ekko said, about why we chose this place?”

of course, she remembers.

“that if even a seed can survive down here, maybe we could, too.”

“we. who’s ‘we,’ vi?” you laugh, but there’s no joy behind it. “we’ve gotten used to surviving without each other. maybe it was meant to be that way.”

“that’s not fair.”

“a lot of things aren’t fair.” you gesture around at the base. “this — this community — took blood, sweat, and tears to build and i just know how easy it would be for someone to destroy it all. which is why we fight, obviously, to protect all this and each other, but i’m scared that we can only do so for so long before we burn out.”

you press your knees to your chest and curl into yourself. vi notices then — the slump of your shoulders, the shadows beneath your eyes, and just how deeply exhausted you must feel, down to your bones.

you let out a shuddery breath. “is it even all worth it?”

vi swallows the tears building in her throat. you had always been the hopeful one, and it makes vi’s chest ache to think about what you must have endured to lose the brightness that had been woven into your being.

that's part of what got her through these past few years, and there's no way she's going to let it fade.

“i....i think so,” vi starts, trying to find it within her to be inspirational. “maybe it'll make a difference in the long run, even if we don’t see that now. maybe someone, someday in the future, will be able to not just survive, but live in a better world.”

you raise an eyebrow at her, and vi swears there's a slight smile on your face.

"what?" she asks, her cheeks heating up.

"i'm just...surprised. how is it possible that prison made you less cynical?”

there's a glimmer to your eyes that wasn't there before, something playful, and vi decides to lean into it.

"oh, it wasn't prison," vi says, nudging her shoulder against hers. "see, i ran into this pretty girl from my past and she's this totally badass freedom fighter now, so i think there's some hope in the world."

you snort. "good to know you're still an unbearable flirt."

"i thought you loved that about me."

you laugh, a sparkling sound that vi wishes she could carry with her wherever she goes. it’s contagious, too, and vi finds herself giggling along with you. when it dies down, you rest your head on her shoulder, something you did even back when you were only friends.

“i missed you,” she admits.

“yeah?” your voice is softer than a whisper.

you lift your head and vi cradles your face in her hands.

vi nods. “so fucking much, and i want to prove it. if you’ll let me. please.”

“vi,” you exhale. she’s so close now that she can feel you breathing against her lips. “i can’t. you’re with that enforcer.”

“we’re not together,” vi assures, bumping her nose against yours.

she leans in ever so closely to kiss you, but you move away.

“you’re still with her, though, and you’re leaving in the morning,” you continue. “things are already so….complicated. i just don’t think we should start something we won’t be able to finish.”

with nothing more to say, you gather your sketchbook and pencils. vi’s sure that you’re not going to bed, just off to nestle into another hiding spot for the night, away from her.

maybe you’re still putting up a cold front, protecting yourself because that’s how you've been surviving in this world where the risk of losing everything lingers, and only gets heavier as you grow older.

but, gods, vi really has missed you, the you she remembers so vividly, the you that shone through just moments ago. she knows that glowing heart of yours is hardened by layers of ice, and she’s determined to make them all melt away.

so, vi gets up, heart beating in her throat, and calls after you:

“haven’t we already?”

you stop in your tracks. you slowly turn around to back at her.

a moment passes, maybe more. the two of you suspended in time. your eyes are telling her a million different things – you’re confused, you’re scared, you’re tempted, you’re tired – and all vi can do is unsuccessfully blink back more tears because it’s true, how your story together never got the happy ending you deserved.

“please, y/n. if this is our second chance, even just for a night —”

she’s cut off by you crashing your lips against hers.

the two of you were young, really, just girls when you first kissed. it was awkward and messy and though it ignited something in the pit of vi’s stomach, it was nothing compared to this.

she lets you guide her as you please, lets you press your warm body against hers against the trunk of the tree. she lets your lips mold into hers until her lungs are burning.

your chest is heaving as you pull away slightly; vi bites back a whine, feeling empty. but air isn’t what she needs, she’s sure of it. what she really needs is more of you.

you study her like a work of art, like you're committing her to memory in case she slips away. your thumb wipes away a fallen tear, across the tattoo on her cheek.

fuck, no one's held vi this tenderly since, well, you.

“you’re so beautiful.”

vi blushes, becoming increasingly flustered. she'd wanted to make this about you, take care of you in all the ways she'd imagined, but the way you're looking at her, touching her....she's not a religious person, but vi thinks she might have stumbled into her own, personal heaven, with you having some divine hold on her, soft and bright and passionate.

you're kissing down her neck, nipping at her collarbone when you repeat: "you're so fucking beautiful."

“yeah, i know. they should build statues of me,” she breathes, closing her eyes and trying to keep upright on weak knees. she squeezes your hips in an attempt to keep herself steady.

you’re the only person vi can recall calling her beautiful.

sexy? oh, yeah. charming? definitely. hot? often.

no one else calls her beautiful, though, let alone makes her feel like it the way you do.

“bad at flirting and full of yourself," you tease. "some things really don't change."

by now your lips are travelling lower, and vi doesn't want to miss a second watching you have your way with her. when her eyes flutter open, vi gets a glimpse of something over your shoulder.

“hm, i guess drawings are a good place to start.”

she gestures with her chin, which she instantly regrets as you pull away to follow her gaze, eyes landing on the sketches of her from your fallen sketchbook.

“you weren’t supposed to see those,” you groan. "they're personal...."

it's cute, how flustered you get after making vi all hot and bothered.

vi smirks. "personal, huh? had some fun picturing me when i was gone? missed me so much you had to draw me back to life?"

"well, no - wait, yes, obviously, i missed you, but --"

vi cuts you off with a searing kiss.

she tugs on one of your belt loops to bring you closer to her. vi presses her thigh between your legs, relishing in how your mouth opens in a perfect gasp. vi takes the opportunity to bite your bottom lip and you whimper.

“don't be embarrassed, baby," vi mumbles against your mouth, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your hips. "you know i missed you, too. 'cept i'm not talented like you, so my creative imagination had to carry me through some long nights."

“is that so….” your hand slips underneath her tank top, and you manage to pull a groan from vi by scratching your nails against her stomach. “maybe you can clue me in to what, exactly, you’ve imagined.”

vi grins triumphantly. she places a kiss on your birthmark before whispering in your ear:

“sure thing, stargirl.”

#vi x reader #arcane x reader #vi arcane x reader #vi arcane #arcane #vi #vi league of legends #saf writes #arcane season 2

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sun-kissy · 6 months ago

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chocolate-coated hearts | r.l.

୨ৎ series masterlist

barista!remus x shy!reader

summary: you go to a new cafe to order donuts for your friend, immediately enamoured with the barista

tw: nothing? reader takes literature as a major, also kind of has social anxiety

a/n: might make this a series! i’ve got a few ideas <3

An anxious sigh escapes you as you stand idly outside the cafe, peering inside through the mosaicked windows. It was jam-packed, people pushing past each other and snake-like queues forming throughout the space. You wriggle your phone out of your coat pocket and glance at the message that your friend, Madison, had sent in a half hour ago.

hey gorgeous!! mind picking up a few donuts for me at Beanie’s before you come over? a few of the pbj ones, and some chocolate ones too. thanks xx

She was expecting, and you went by whenever you could to help her out after her asshole of a boyfriend left.

Normally, you wouldn’t bother. You hated crowded places, and Beanie’s was the definition of crowded – an old-style cafe which had blown up overnight because of its scrumptious donuts and vintage aesthetic. But who were you to deny the cravings of the woman bearing your goddaughter?

You take a deep breath and push the creaky wooden door open, cringing at how the bell rang and signalled the whole cafe to your presence. But no one so much as looked up, busy trying to buy or sell food, or find a table.

You push your way through the sea of people, joining the queue in front of the counter. It was long, you noted, and would probably take another fifteen minutes or so until it was your turn to place an order. You fish out your crumpled book from your bag and turn it to the page you had stopped on yesterday. It was the second classic of the term – Pride and Prejudice. Taking literature as a major meant you spent more time reading than anything else, but you weren’t complaining.

As you read, you scribbled down plot points to take note of and quotes which meant something worth writing about. Your eyes stayed glued to the page, trying to work out hidden meanings and flowery language. Once you were back home, you’d have to compile all your analysis onto that worksheet Professor Ragnarsson had given out, write the 10-page long review, and then –

“Hey! Shut the damn book and order, will you?”

Your heart jumps in your chest at the sudden harsh tone. You close your book and whip your head around to see a middle-aged man glaring at you before peering down at his watch. “There’s a long queue, and we don’t have all day.”

The heat rushes to your cheeks as you open your mouth to apologise – but before you can say anything, you hear an oddly soothing voice from behind you. “Hey, don’t be a jerk. She didn’t know the counter was open.”

You glance back towards the counter, and you swear your heart stopped beating for a second. Angelic was an understatement to describe the man standing in front of you, tall and lanky and absolutely fucking beautiful.

His chestnut brown hair perfectly framed his pale face, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as he glanced at the rude customer behind you. There were pinkish scars tracing from above his eyebrows to right below his lips, but they looked golden under the orange light – he looked like some kind of heavenly being.

When his eyes dart back to you, his expression instantly softened, lips tilting upwards in a smile. You thought you would melt into a puddle right there and then just by gazing into his warm, honeyed eyes. “Hi, gorgeous. What can I get you?”

You blink, your mouth involuntarily falling open slightly. Gorgeous? Was he talking to you? Maybe he was referring to the man behind you.

His smile widens, and that does absolutely nothing to calm the feeling of your heart bouncing around in your stomach. “It’s okay if you can’t choose just yet, I know the number of options can be…” he chuckles, “overwhelming. Take all the time you need to decide.”

Oh my god, you thought. His laugh sounded musical, like the tender feeling of being enveloped in a warm embrace. You’d put it on a record player and play it on loop for hours if you could.

“Hurry the fuck up –”

“One more word from you and you won’t be getting your coffee today, buddy,” the godly-looking barista snapped in a slightly louder tone at the man behind you, face contorted in irritation.

You hear silent cursing behind you, a twinge of embarrassment turning you red. You quickly glance back up. “Sorry, hi, hello. I’ll um… I…” the words were on the tip of your tongue, but seemed to dissolve when he glanced at you with those agonisingly pretty eyes and kind smile.

Snap out of it, you internally curse as you open your mouth again. “I’ll get three peanut butter-jelly donuts, and four chocolate donuts.”

“Okay. Which chocolate ones?” he asks, tapping his tongs against the display dome with stacks of donuts. There really were a lot of options – chocolate sprinkles, belgian chocolate, chocolate glazed, double chocolate – your mind seemed to freeze up for a second. Which one would Madison want?

You quickly look behind you, seeing the man’s face twisted up in what looked like rage. It seemed to be taking him all his willpower not to lash out at you, and the customers behind him didn’t look much far off.

You turn back to the counter, eyes wide with panic as you feel the blood rush to your head. You had never been good at this; thinking and choosing on the spot. That’s why Subway was always a no-go for you, that’s why Madison had specifically told you what to get her – just that she hadn’t been specific enough. “I… I’m not sure. I think, um…”

“Hey, take it easy,” you look back up to see Remus giving you a reassuring smile, a slight hint of concern on his face. Your despair must have been embarrassingly evident, then. “It’s alright if you can’t choose. Do you want me to pick for you?”

You ought to have been humiliated, the way you immediately nodded and gave in to his offer. But he just gave you an easy smile and nodded, picking up one of each type and placing them in the box.

“Thank you,” you mumble sheepishly as you move to the payment counter, fishing in your bag for a wad of notes.

“Of course,” he grins, and it was so bright you thought it could probably light up the whole cafe. “That’ll be $15.90.”

As he waits for you to pay, he takes a quick look down and begins to brush crumbs off his apron. You look up at the wrong moment, eyes immediately fixing on the curves of his biceps visible through his T-shirt, and his slender fingers.

He glances back up at you, catching a glimpse of your flustered look and instantly smirking. You look away abashedly, counting the money and handing it to him.

The brush of your fingers against his calloused palm sent a jolting shock through you as you quickly pull back, not missing the way his smile widened as he cashed the money into the register.

“Thanks for visiting, sweetheart. Hope to see you again soon.”

You don’t reply, afraid you’d crumble into a blushing, gooey mess. Flashing him a brief, nervous smile, you pick up the box of donuts before turning around and heading straight for the exit. Sweetheart.

You huff as you open the door and step outside, pulling out your phone to complain to Madison all about the stupidly handsome barista at her favourite cafe. God, he really knew what he was doing.

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leashybebes · 2 months ago

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Congrats on the increased follower count, you deserve it after exes detriments (sorry, I can’t remember the official name) but here’s a prompt for you:

Buck and Tommy struggle to find time in their schedules to see each other

aww, thank you so much! 💛💛 and thanks for the prompt!

Buck knows he should be getting some rest. But if he has to lie sleepless in his bunk and listen to Chim snore much longer, he's going to do something drastic. He creeps out of the bunk room, shoots off a text, and makes his way up to the roof. He's barely sat down by the time his phone rings.

"Hi," he says, and he feels breathless and eager all over again. Still.

"Did you seriously just 'u up?' me, Evan? Aren't you at work?"

"Hey, it was a sincere question. You can tell by the lack of the eggplant emoji."

"You're ridiculous."

"Yeah," Buck agrees easily. "I miss you. And your eggplant."

"Evan!" Tommy's so good at sounding scandalized and delighted all at once and Buck grins.

"What are you doing after your shift on Tuesday?"

"Errands, then therapy, then sleep."

"Gotcha. I'm working Wednesday."

"Me too. Thursday?" Tommy suggests.

"Looking after Jee," Buck says, and while he's never going to regret time spent with his niece, this is starting to get ridiculous. "They should be picking her up by eight?"

"Drinks with the team at nine," Tommy says, and he does sound regretful, but part of Tommy working on himself is trying to let himself have more meaningful connections, both in quantity and depth, so Buck's not about to try talking him out of that. "And you're working Friday."

"Yeah. And you have that private flying lesson Saturday, right?"

"Yeah. Should be done mid afternoon if that's any good?"

Buck rubs his hand over his face. "Video call with Eddie and Chris at four, and then I'm supposed to be going for dinner at Maddie's."

"Ah."

"I could come over after?"

"I'd need to leave before seven for my Sunday shift."

"Honestly, at this point, I'll take it."

"Evan."

Buck sighs. "I know, I know."

They're dating now, is the thing. Not going on a couple of dates and then weaving their lives together without discussing it until it blows up in their faces. Actually dating.

"I could - I could tell them. You could come with me."

There's a long, heavy silence.

"I don't think I'm ready for that."

Because they're also keeping it to themselves for now. They both want to see where it goes without any outside influence, to see what it is they settle into when it's just them. It's honestly - it's kind of fun, having this little secret to themselves, going further afield than they usually would for dates, trying new places and new things. But it can't go on forever, and although he's only referred to it jokingly, Buck knows Tommy's worried what people will think - that he screwed up too bad, that they'll hate him, that they'll tell Buck he's an idiot to give him a second chance. Buck's pretty sure that's not on the cards - Maddie might go a little overprotective big sister with a side of pregnancy hormones, but he thinks that'll be it. And that's nothing they can't handle.

"Hey," he says. "Can we talk about this sometime? Check in, see where we're at?"

"Yeah," Tommy promises. "Of course."

"Okay. Monday, then?"

"Monday," Tommy agrees. "My neighbour's been raving about this seafood restaurant in Santa Barbara if you're up for a bit of a drive?"

"Sounds good. Monday's so far away, though," Buck laments.

"I can hear the pout from here, Evan," Tommy teases.

"Well," Buck says, letting his voice drop deliberately into a tone that never fails to make Tommy a bit wild. "You'll just have to buy me a nice meal and kiss it better, huh?"

"God, Evan - "

"I'm off Tuesday too. Maybe we find a nice little bed and breakfast and make a night of it? I can show you just how you how much I've missed - "

He hears the door open behind him and his mouth snaps shut. "Gotta go. Call you later."

Tommy lets out a huff of laughter. "Bye, Evan. Be safe."

"You too," Buck says, as Bobby drops into the chair next to his.

"Hey, Cap."

"Couldn't sleep?"

"With Chim sawing logs one bunk over? I'm amazed anybody can."

"You don't normally struggle."

Buck shrugs, tries not to meet Bobby's eye. Everyone used to tease him about his Tommy-face, his Tommy-voice, his Tommy-pout, and for all they're taking it slow - and they are - Buck knows he's right back there. If Eddie wasn't in Texas, he's pretty sure their secret would have lasted a week, and Bobby's the next best thing when it comes to reading Buck with a glance.

"You doing okay?" Bobby asks.

"Yep! Real good."

"Hm. Apropos of nothing at all, Kaur from B shift is looking for cover. You interested in Friday off in exchange for a six to six Saturday?"

"Yes! I mean. Yeah, I can do that."

Bobby shoots him an amused look. "Okay, then. Happy for you, kid."

Buck grins up at the dark sky. He can push his call with Chris and Eddie a little later, and still make it on time for dinner with Maddie and Chim.

"You coming back inside?"

"In a minute," Buck says. "Just gotta make a call."

"Uh-huh. Tell him hi from me if you like," Bobby offers, patting Buck's shoulder as he goes.

#bucktommy #my writing #prompt fill

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mickyschumacher · 1 year ago

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[THE DEATH OF ME!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: friends with benefits is never a good idea. friends with benefits with carlos sainz especially isn't a good idea.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors dni), jealousy, fwb to lovers trope!, let's hear it for the google translated spanish!!, unprotected sex again (using a condom is hot behaviour ♡︎), remnants of gaslighting?, oral sex, p in v, pussy eating, overstimulation, cumming inside, love confessions, set it up reference!, carlos realising his red flags, mention of rebecca donaldson as the other girl but she isn't vilified or anything (some peeps scare the shit outta me), idk anything about granada (except the memories of the alhambra! can i get an amen?)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: carlos sainz x fwb!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6k+

𝐀/𝐍: this was a messaged request so i hope it was up to par! kinda long but we get there eventually. plot holes? yes. proof-read? um... to my sore eyes, yes.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

There were many things the world still couldn't explain. The human body, the brain especially, why humans yawn, the cause of Alzheimers, or why tomatoes have 10,000 more genes than humans do.

In addition, you couldn't explain how you had gotten to be friend with benefits with none other than Carlos Sainz, an F1 driver for Ferrari.

Well... there were some parts you could explain. Like how you met. You were simply a girl from Pampaneira, Granada going grocery shopping after eating up the last of what was in your fridge and Carlos was a fresh bachelor who decided to spend a part of his vacation with his friends over 400 kilometres away from his Madrid home in Granada.

A fresh bachelor who also happened to need grocery's for his cousin's raging hangover.

To say you were the town's golden girl was a bit of an understatement. You were far too busy greeting all your local residents. You didn't notice Carlos when you first walked into the store.

But Carlos noticed you. Actually he noticed you before he even laid eyes on you. Your sweet floral perfume roamed the air and engulfed him, luring him without any words. And then he saw you.

You were a beautiful woman. Everything about you... the long hair, your glowing skin, curves every lover goes to dream about at night, eyes that you would never want to let down, your lips... God your lips, one look at them and no sane person could stop thinking about them... at night; and then there was your smile, a social service that could get rid of all the tension in this world.

You didn't notice Carlos until you felt a pair of eyes staring at you from the health isle that was poorly across from all your fruit. There was no shortage of attractive men in your town let alone Granada. But you had never seen a man like Carlos before.

The thicket of brown locks that you craved to run a hand through, his gorgeous tan skin that God must've given, the mysterious chocolate eyes, the perfectly plump lips which made you think he just had to be a good kisser, the slight scruff on his face that made you wonder how it would feel on your skin, the taut body... a gorgeous man.

You didn't know who Carlos was. In Pampaneira, although you new what it was, no one really cared for F1. It was a village that bordered on as a small town. Everyone here knew each other well and spent every second socialising.

You couldn't decide whether you wanted to talk to him or whether you were too nervous to. But it didn't matter because Carlos made the first move and introduced himself. You introduced yourself. He complimented you. You complimented him.

And that was that.

By nightfall, he was in your bed and the both of you had the most sinful, steamiest sex of your lives. So much that Carlos saw you for the rest of his time there. So much that when it was time to leave, Carlos told you to come with him.

And you did.

It was all of that that had led up to all of this. This being your attendance to a dinner at an F1 event as Carlos' plus one in Barcelona. He couldn't hide a beauty like you. Besides, the Spain paps had already managed to weasel their way into your relationshpi with Carlos. Most people thought you were dating. But Carlos had firmly laid the rule out as one did when you became friends with benefits: you don't fall in love. Neither one of you. You agreed for the sanity of your brain because you were far too attracted to the man to fall into the tricky waters of love.

"Holy shit, Carlos..." Lando swore when his eyes landed on the entrance of the dinner.

Carlos raised a brow at this driver, turning his head to the direction of Lando's gaze. He sucked in a sharp breath when he saw you. Every time he saw you, he couldn't be more thankful that he had eyes.

You had captured everyone's attention no doubt. How could they not look? Not when you were dressed in a light yellow satin material that hugged you in all the right places. Not when your neck was adorned in the diamond lariat necklace Carlos had brought you, hiding all the hickeys he had place there this morning. Not when the back of the dress scooped so far down that it only rested a few inches above your ass.

Christ, Carlos thought as he discreetly adjusted his tight pants. You were a sin.

You greeted all the drivers, laughing softly when Lily and Alexandra started to fawn over your appearance.

"I'm telling you, you are probably killing Carlos right now," Lily whispered on one side of you.

You rolled you eyes as Alexandra quipped on the other side, "Probably? Look at him. He is suffering."

You pressed your lips together, preventing a full-blow grin from washing onto your face.

That was kind of the point.

You tried to avoid as much of Carlos as you could because riling him up was one of your favourite pastimes. But in your endeavour, you felt a familiar hand graze your bare back, sending a warm tingle up your spine.

"All of this when we don't get to finish the night together? No juegas limpio, mi niña bonita," Carlos' lust-ridden voice whispered as his head dipped down, letting him place a small kiss behind your ear. You don't play fair, my pretty girl.

You gave him a meek smile. As much as you loved his compliments, they were starting to get you these days. The endearments combine with his actions were stirring up feelings that should be sounding alarms in your head.

"Jugar limpio no es divertido," You shrugged nonchalantly, trying to divert you eyes to the dinner. Playing fair is no fun.

"That's true." Carlos poked his tongue in his cheek upon hearing your remark. You reminded him of a firecracker. Always ready to burst and come back with something to say.

"You have to admit it is sad though, hmm? Because all I want to do is take that dress off you and fuck you. I want to make you cum over and over again till all you can call yourself is mine. I want to watch my cum fall from your pussy because you can't take it all, niña bonita. And then I want to push it right back in so you can walk around with it all day. Soon. I promise."

You let out a shaky breath as Carlos' breathing became heavier and heavier. You chewed down on your bottom lip, standing a bit straighter to discreetly clench your legs together. With a small smile, you turned to Carlos. "I hate you," You told him in the softest and sweetest voice you could muster.

Carlos grinned, making your heart skip a beat. He put his hands around your waist, his chest facing your back, and his chin resting on your collarbone. "Please. You love me."

You blinked blankly at the cold splash of reality that fell over you. You gave a dry and short laugh. You patted his hand with your own. "En tus sueños, Carlos." In your dreams, Carlos.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Mornings without Carlos usually meant you had energy because you weren't having your brains fucked out. But your usual opening of your socials had brought something that drained you entirely.

You stared at your ceiling of your hotel room blankly. Regardless of whether Carlos was awake right now, he wouldn't have even seen this. He didn't read any other news other than his favourites like ESPN or the CBS Sports Network.

You rubbed your eyes tiredly. What was this feeling in your stomach? Anger? Annoyance? Jealousy? You couldn't really put a finger on it and nor could you tell why.

You turned to plant your face in your pillow and let out a muffled groan.

How did you even get here?

Right. The grocery store.

You missed home. Home was an almost 2 hour flight or an eight hour car ride away. You missed when things were simple. When they made sense. Because lately, nothing had made any sense.

The thought of home brought you to the next train of thought: food. And as if on cue, your stomach growled at you with demand. So with the motivation of not starving to death, you got ready to have breakfast and headed down to the nearest cafe because hotel room service sucked.

Opting for a mocha with an extra sugar to counteract the bitterness in your life, you sat down with some a variety of churros and croissants to choose from.

Your phone blared it's default ringtone, capturing your attention. Your eyes flickered over the name and your heart softened and your bad mood had slightly eased. You grabbed the device and slid your thumb to the right.

"Buenos dias, mamà," You greeted. Good morning, mama.

You could hear her exclaim with joy, a sound you hadn't heard in a while. "Ah, mi niña bonita, buenos dias! ¿Cómo estás? No has leído las noticias, ¿verdad?" Ah, my pretty girl, good morning! How are you? You haven't read the news, have you?

You winced at your mother's pet name. You hated this. You hated that the lines between before Carlos and during Carlos were blurring.

"Sí, mamá, lo hice. Don't worry. It's just gossip. All fake," You told her even though you had no idea yourself. Yes, mama, I did.

You heard a sigh of relief from the other side of the call, making your heart hurt. "Right? I thought so. Carlos would never do that. Es un buen chico." He's such a good boy.

You could only tightly smile, agree, and be thankful you weren't seeing your mother in person otherwise she would've been able to tell straight away. You didn't know because all you had agreed on with Carlos was attraction. Nothing more and nothing less.

You caught up a bit with your mother. The conversation ended with her demanding a family dinner to which you told her you would see if Carlos had the time.

It was a simple conversation yet it was eye-opening.

You wanted that family dinner so badly. You wanted to be able to go see your mother and Carlos hang out. Hell, his own mother wanted you to call her mom. You wanted the stupid romantic things like dates, a person who would listen to you, the whispers of sweet nothings because... because you were in love with him.

Of course you were. Sure Carlos slightly had a quick temper and he wasn't that great at being emotional with you or anyone for that matter... but there was that saying: you like because and you love despite. Despite all of his flaws–because no matter how great a man is, he has his flaws–you loved him.

“Buenos dias, cariño,” A familiar voice greeted behind you. Good morning, sweetheart.

You turned your head, finding the root cause of all your problems stand before you with the most handsome smile.

"Carlos," You said with a slightly surprised tone.

Carlos smiled in return, placing a lingering kiss on the side of your head before he sat in front of you. The both of you waited for his coffee to be placed on the table before any conversation between you resumed.

"It's a beautiful day, no? I feel good about this weekend too. It kind of feels like everything is coming together," Carlos told you, raising his brows excitedly at you.

You gave a gentle smile, taking a long sip of your mocha. Slowly you placed the cup down and took in a sharp breath of air. "Carlos... can I tell you something?"

Carlos furrowed his brows and softly laughed at your almost worried tone. He nodded. "Sí, cualquier cosa." Yes, anything.

You looked down at your cup, fingers tracing the rim of the glass as you wondered how to start. Your mouth opened and closed, uncertainty closing in on you. Your eyes snapped up at the taunt of your name slipping from Carlos' mouth.

Okay... you got this.

"Carlos, I... I don't think we should do this anymore."

The crinkles in between in eyebrows and amused smile on his face told you that you had lost him. "You are going to have to be a lot more specific than that, mi niña bonita."

You chewed at your bottom lip. This nickname was getting tiring if he didn't mean it the way you wanted it to. "I mean us, Carlos. This... whatever this is. Friends with benefits... our relationship... it has to stop."

Any amusement on Carlos' face had dropped. He leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he tried to think back on how you had come to this decision. "I–what? What do you mean? Did something happen? I thought this was going fine... amazing, even."

"This isn't working for me anymore. I don't want to do this anymore," You shrugged with the pretence you didn't care.

Carlos grabbed your hand with his, rubbing the back of yours gently. "Is this the stupid headline thing? Cariño, they don't know what they're talking about."

"You didn't even deny it," You laughed softly as a bitter taste arose in your mouth and you slipped your hand our of his grasp.

Carlos stared at you for a while, unable to defend himself. "I don't understand. We agreed from the start that this wasn't going to be exclusive all the time. Three rules: it's open, we respect each other and we don't... we don't fall in love."

You paid no attention to where Carlos had paused. You shook your head, waving your hand in dismissal. "It's not that... I just... I don't want to do this, okay? Just leave it alone."

"Then what is it? I know you. You can give me a better explanation than 'I don't want to do this'. I can't leave this alone. Did someone say something to you? Did they do something? I swear, Y/N, if they did–"

"No," You quickly and sharply interjected. You took a deep breath. "Carlos.. I want more from you. I don't just want to see you every night and morning. I want to see you when we go out to have dinner. I don't want to be your sidepiece, Carlos. I can't... not when I feel like this."

The silence from Carlos was deafening. He struggled to open his mouth. His eyes twinkled with pain. "But you know I can't give you that."

Right. Carlos Sainz didn't do relationships. He was an F1 driver. They liked pass the parcel. And it just so happened, you were his parcel.

You nodded slowly. "Lo sé. Por eso lo siento. I'm sorry for ruining things between us but I can't do this anymore. Because if I do... I'm afraid I fall even further. And that's not fair on me." I know. That's why I'm sorry.

━━━━━━━━━━━

As much as you would like to say you were a responsible citizen who didn't make bad decisions when you were upset, you couldn't.

The offer of clubbing by some of the girlfriends of the drivers was far too appealing in your situation. Your agreement excited the girls because you rarely joined them on these outings because you were too caught up with a certain Spaniard. Granted they didn't know the real reason behind why you were so ready to join them but what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

As you arrived to the club, Lily let out a low whistle when she laid eyes on you. "How do you say hot as fuck in Spanish? Because my oh my you are hot as fuck right now."

She wasn't wrong. You felt hot as fuck right now. It was a warm night in Barcelona and the sexy black long sleeve mini dress, the same one you reserved for Carlos, was staring at you, begging for you to take it out of your suitcase. It stuck to your curves, it had some scandalous cuts, and it was backless. A perfect dress for Carlos? Sure. But a perfect dress to let go of yourself in a club.

You almost snorted at the golfer's theatrics but instead you opted for a flutter of your eyelashes and a stretch of your hand. "Oh dear madam, you flatter me!" You thanked her in a poorly imitated British accent.

Heidi and Alexandra laughed quietly as Lily rolled her eyes before grabbing your hands. "Let's go! I need some tequila!"

Quickly all four of you were by the bar, taking shots of cava (Spanish wine) instead of tequila. Well, you watched them take shots of cava. You may not be having the best day in the world but you were smart and sober enough to know that you and alcohol was not a good mix right now. And all the pleas of these girls could not convince you to do it.

Soon enough, you were all on the dance floor. The club couldn't be more of a club: sweaty bodies dancing on each other, old 2000s' music thrumming so loudly that you would think it was coursing through your veins, neon lights flashing rapidly across the room.

You... you were a vixen, dancing your way through all the bodies, relishing in all the lingering eyes you had captured. Every move you made was unintentionally alluring; your long tresses grazing your skin seductively, sticking to your skin at times as the humidity of the club made you shimmer in the flickering lights while you controlled the pulsing rhythm.

Lily, Heidi, and Alexandra watched in a shortly-lived awe before their eyes widened as a guy behind you edged closer to you. You could feel his breath brush pass the nape of your neck while the heat of his body began to circle you as his chest neared your back.

You couldn't feel a damn shiver down your spine that made you feel good as you once did but you weren't sure if you care that much. With the music blaring and your urge to escape reality without a sip of alcohol, you got closer to the man.

Dancing slowly to the music, you moved your ass closer to the man, feeling his hand lay on your waist. Your head fell back on to his should as he began grind his body into you. You squinted at the purple and pink lights floating in the air, frustrated. Why wasn't your body reacting the way you wanted it to?

The man's lips ghosted over the shell over your ear and he whispered, "Let's get out of here, baby."

Your mouth opened to respond but before you could let out a syllable, you felt the man's presence disappear and a hand grab your forearm, pulling you towards them.

You snapped your eyes to the figure, eyes widening slightly at the familiar brown locks, flushed cheeks, and the same chocolate eyes. Only those eyes were far darker. The host of pure craze.

"Carlos–"

"I think she's fine. You can leave," Carlos said curtly, ignoring your call of his name, brown eyes firmly planted on the stranger.

The man, sensing Carlos' anger and annoyance, held his arms up in defence and walked away.

Without looking at you, Carlos held his rigid grip on your arm and hastily walked you out of this club with heavy steps. You could spot the trio of girls nearby whispering their apologies, concerns, and how they forgot to mention they invited the guys.

"Carlos," You called wearily, watching him open the door of his Ferrari.

"Entra," He looked over at the door, waiting for you expectedly as he leaned on the car. Get in.

"What? No, Carlos, let's talk about this–"

"Get in the damn car and then we'll talk about this."

You let out a huff at the absolute resolve Carlos sported on his face. With a clenched jaw, you dipped down into the Ferrari, immediately finding the comfort in the familiar seat. You peered over towards Carlos, who was walking to the driver's seat.

Fucking hell. What had you gotten yourself into?

Silently, Carlos slammed the door shut. He took a glance at you and sighed before reaching out to grab your seatbelt and click it into place. The cologne you had gotten to used to infiltrated your nose as heat radiated off of his body. Putting the car into drive, Carlos was off onto the streets.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The ride to your hotel was fast. Carlos was well over the speed limit and all the buildings zipped past you like lightning. It was unnerving to see the combination of speed, silence, and anger in Carlos but you were lying to yourself if you said you didn't find it somewhat attractive. Carlos' hands firmly on the wheel, his taut jaw, hardened eyes... God, you were awful.

Not wanting to cause any commotion for all the gossiping fans, you both quietly arrived to your hotel room. You both took off your shoes silently by the door. You took a little longer, fiddling with the straps of your heels in hope to by you some time to think of something... anything to say.

With nothing coming to mind, you turned around to Carlos standing in front of you. His brown eyes stared hard at you while he chewed the inner corner of his mouth. You let out a small exhale when you felt his hand caress your cheek, the soft pad of his thumb pulling down your bottom lip.

"Carlos..." You called once again.

Carlos momentarily closed his eyes at the feeling of your breath against his hand. "We barely finished our conversation this morning and you were going to fuck some stranger? Hmm?"

"I–" You wanted to say no. You really did. But you weren't raised a liar. "Yes. I was," You stated almost apathetically. You returned his sharp stare with a pointed look. "What is it to you?"

Carlos sucked in a sharp breath of air. His other hand snaked around your waist, pulling you so you were flushed against him. He pushed down the grin that was beginning to form once he felt your hardened nipples against his chest. He dipped his head down to your ear. "Say it again. I dare you. Try it again and see if I won't fuck you and edge you over and over again."

Your mouth fell open at Carlos' declaration while your pussy ached, clenching around nothing. You swallowed all the saliva that had gathered in your mouth, letting out a nervous incredulous sneer. "You wouldn't. You're driving tomorrow."

In addition to the three rules, Carlos had a special one of his own: no fucking the day before driving or throughout the weekend. Because of his addiction to your body and the animal he was, sex expended far too much of his energy and he knew for a fact that his team would be able to tell.

The hairs on your body stood straight and goosebumps began to travel down your skin as Carlos' thumb trailed from your lips to the valley of your breasts. His head tilted to the side, eyes moving from your tightly covered tits to your face. The corner of his mouth tugged up, forming a humoured smirk. "You don't think I will? After the shit you pulled? I made you a promise yesterday, cariño, and I'm going to fulfil it."

You let out a soft exhale. Your heart was racing in your ears. "Carlos... this isn't right. I meant what I said. I can't pretend like everything is fine like you. Besides you said it was open, right? You, out of all people, can't react like this."

Carlos' possessiveness was something you could never entirely wrap your head around. Sometimes it was there and other days it wasn't. He was all over a model yesterday and now he was pulling you away from other men? It was ironic.

The gaze that Carlos held told you there was something he wanted to say, right on the tip of his tongue. But he couldn't say it. No... he couldn't admit it.

But you gladly would for him.

"You're afraid, Carlos. And I don't blame you. You've never had a serious relationship, you never committed, you never fallen in love so I'm not that surprised. But you've got to understand that I can't stay with you like this."

Carlos huffed in amusement, shaking his head shortly after. "You're wrong."

You raised a brow. "Am I?"

He nodded slowly. "I mean you're right about the relationships and commitment," He started, ensuring his eyes were firmly planted on you, "But I've fallen in love."

Your shoulders slump at his admission. Great. This was exactly what you needed right now. "Y-You have?" You asked with a small voice and a want to blare some heavy music through yours ears.

Carlos nodded once again. "At first sight. In a grocery store. There was this girl. She walked in, didn't notice me. But I saw her. I thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world. She laughed and smiled with the locals and I thought that for a second I died and went to heaven. I caught her eye and introduced myself. She did the same–"

"Carlos..." You interjected, feeling your heart pick up it's pace once again.

But the Spaniard continued his story. "We complimented each other, we talked and joked. Then we went to bed that same night. It was perfect. And after we finished, the thought of losing someone like her scared me. It was so terrifying that instead of asking her out, like a normal person, I asked her to become a bloody sidepiece out of all things. Can you believe it? I was an idiot... an idiot in love. I still am an idiot. Because she told me she loves me and I haven't done anything about it. Well, till now."

Carlos let out a long exhale, eyes nervously darting across your face, trying to draw any conclusions of your reaction.

You narrowed your eyes. "I hate you."

"What?" Carlos spluttered.

"Kidding!" You broke out into smile. "I love you too, Carlos. Not as much as you though. First sight? You are down bad," You jested, trying to not let all the fluttering feelings swirling in your body burst out of you.

Carlos blinked blankly at you. You were unbelievable. He shook his head at you, feigning a look of disappointment as he pulled you towards the bed. The soft sheets morphed around you, lulling you to a comfort you had been craving ever since you had put on your heels.

You eyed the lust-ridden look Carlos had. "I was being serious, Carlos. You're racing tomorrow. You have all the time in the world. I'm not going anywhere. Besides, sex after a podium sounds nice," You offered, hanging your arms around his neck as he hovered over you.

Carlos smiled gently at your confession, heart warm at the thought of you by his side. He pushed your hair behind your ears. "As sweet as that is... I was also serious about my promise."

Carlos' leaned in, taking in one last glance of you before pressing his lips to yours. Goosebumps began to swarm every inch of your skin as his hands trailed down your body, finding your hips. If only he knew his tracks the way he knew your body.

You let out a small moan, giving Carlos a new access to your mouth. Your skin prickled with a new wave of heat that was unlike any before. Because this time you knew things were different. He loved you. And you loved him back.

You felt Carlos' tongue invade your mouth while his warm hands had moved to your bare thighs. His grip on your skin tightened as he revelled in the feeling of your plump skin rolling and burning in his hands. All because he touched you.

He removed his swollen lips from yours. The very same lips quirked at your whine. "You know this dress was driving me crazy?" He told you, planting his lips on your neck. His fingers skated up your thigh, inching loser towards your heated pussy.

Christ.

You leaned into his touch, losing yourself as he marked your skin with his love. His lips sucked on your soft skin with a greed the both of you had never felt before.

"Yeah? When? When you first saw me or when I was grinding on that guy?" You teased, running a hand through Carlos' dark brown locks.

Carlos paused, looking up at you with narrowed eyes. His fingers continued to travel, finding the soft and soaked fabric of your panties. "Niña bonita, you sure talk a lot for someone who is so wet from only kisses," He murmured against your lips as he pressed a finger on your cloth-covered folds and lightly grazed your clit.

You gasped at the sharp tingle shooting up your body. "Fuck, Carlos," You sighed, feeling a certain craving begin to settle in.

Carlos sported a grin that you almost wanted to smack off of his face. A feeling which only intensified once he removed his finger from your clit, leaving you breathless as he removed your dress. He sucked in a sharp breath coming across your bare body. "You know... going braless I get," He started while he trailed his finger down the valley of your breasts and towards your pussy. His finger stopped right above your clit. "But no underwear?"

You stayed silent, chest heaving at his touch. You were waiting for Carlos to push you right into the ecstasy you had been bordering on. "Carlos, please."

Carlos smiled at your strained plea, bringing his lips to your stomach. "Your pleasure is my pleasure," He remarked.

You watched as Carlos' head dipped down between your legs, hands firmly wrapped around your thighs. "Fuck, you are soaking, cariño," He called out, eyeing your glistening folds and feeling the heat radiate off of them.

You squirmed at his breath travelling up your spine. "Only for you," You rasped.

Carlos could only feel his heart pace as he watched you clench around nothing. His cock was flushed against the fabric of his pants and his underwear. Fuck, the pain was almost a dizzying as the arousal he was receiving. You were so good to him... oh the things you did to him. Good girls deserved rewards, did they not?

Your mouth fell open as Carlos' tongue laid flat against your folds, taking one long lap at your arousal. You could feel him smile against your thighs. "You taste so good," He murmured before plunging his tongue back into your warm folds.

He explored every crevice of your pussy while you hand shot out to his brown locks, pushing his head further into you. The obscene grunts that echoed in the room after leaving Carlos' mouth were nothing compared to the pace he had taken. He was devouring you; inhaling and savouring your very essence.

You removed your hand from his hair and the back of your head fell into the soft sheets. Your hips bucked against his tongue while soft moans fell from your swollen lips. "So good, Carlos, fuck," you cried out, voice straining from the pleasure.

Carlos took your praise as encouragement, pushing his tongue further into your slick folds while his thumb found your needy clit. He circled the sensitive bundle with a teasing gentleness that sent bursts of throbbing pleasure down your core.

A groan fell from his mouth upon feeling your hand in his hair once again. The slight tremble of your thighs and the clenching of your pussy told him that he was doing everything right. You were on the brink of losing it.

"Cum for me, niña bonita," Carlos urged, thumb rubbing your clit faster and tongue lapping at your puffy folds.

Your hips quivered against Carlos' tongue, thighs tightening around his head as your eyes shut tightly, finding a white light in the dark abyss. Your eyes watered while your mind became absent in your climax. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! Carlos!"

Carlos momentarily stopped his actions, watching your face contort in pure pleasure. You looked beautiful. Hot, naturally, but beautiful. The thin sheen of sweat made you glow and your swollen lips with the few traces of lipstick were a hot mess but he loved it.

"No, no, no," You mumbled in quick turns when you felt his tongue and thumb return not a return a single second later.

"I said multiple orgasms, cariño. You can give me another."

Despite your refusal and the slight burn of your sensitive folds, your body liked to betray you, convulsing once again. Your hips trembled against his touch while your fingers grasped the bedsheets tightly.

Christ. Carlos was going to be the death of you.

Carlos greedily and happily watched your overstimulated pussy grind against him involuntarily. By the last quiver of your hips, he gave you a warm smile, mouth lowering to leave a trail of kisses across your stomach. "Well done, mi hermosa princesa." Well done, my beautiful princess.

You gave a tired smile, feeling a little less than beautiful with your sex sweat-ridden hair and skin sticking to the sheets.

"Princesa, are you sure you can handle my cock? I haven't tired you out too much, have I? Carlos queried, half with genuine concern and the other half with a tone that was almost patronising.

You narrowed your eyes before giving him a sickly sweet smile. "Well, you did promise to fuck me. If you can't, then nevermind."

Carlos couldn't tell whether he was proud or tired of your shit. You were clearly tired yet you had a lot to say back. Like he said, you were a firecracker.

With one hand, he removed his polo shirt. His brown eyes bore into yours as he slowly removed his pants. His lips quirked at your sharp intake of air once your eyes feasted on the throbbing bulge in his underwear.

Your heart thudded against your chest while you sat up from your position and inched closer towards him. You looked up at him with big eyes, hand trailing down his taut chest.

Carlos heaved, feeling the you skim past his body hair. His tongue darted out, resting on his lips as he carefully watched you open your mouth and sink your teeth into the waistband of his underwear.

"Fuck me," Carlos muttered under his breath, eyes glued to you while you pulled his underwear down.

Carlos quickly removed his underwear from his feet and in hast movements, pushed you onto your back. He rolled his eyes at the teasing laugh that fell from your lips despite it being the most pleasing sound to his ears.

You looked at the Spaniard hovering above you, hand gently brushing his cheek. You smiled, running a hand through his hair. "I love you, mi amor." I love you, my love.

Carlos held your gaze, chest heaving at your sudden admission. He felt impossibly warm. It was like the first time he had met you all over again. He felt the same way the night you first had sex. He whispered, "Again. I want to hear it again, please."

Your eyes softened and your heart ached at his earnest plea. "I love you, Carlos. Forever."

Carlos stared at you for another second before bringing you into a long kiss. "I love you more."

You let out a small whimper, feeling Carlos' thick cock against your engorged pussy. You watched as his eyes became clouded with lust. Just rubbing his cock against your folds was an obscene high that made the both of you shiver.

The sudden jerk of your hips as his cock rubbed your sensitive and overstimulated clit made you cry out. "Fuck...," You moaned out, "I need your cock, mi amor. Please."

Carlos was so lost in the pleasure it took the slight dig of your nails in his forearms to ground him once again. "Me too, princesa," He grunted, selfishly grazing your clit again with his cock just so he could watch your hips jolt once again. Fuck. Your reaction drove him crazy.

Carlos forced himself to get ahold of himself and focus on pushing his cock into your pussy. Your hands fell to his neck, steadying yourself while a gratifying burn ached through your core. "Me estás llenando, amor. Muévete, por favor, Carlos." You're filling me up, love. Please move, please, Carlos.

A groan flew from Carlos' lips as he fell into your plead, hips beginning to rut against you. Your swollen folds clamped around him, holding a vice-like grip on his aching cock.

Your sweaty skin stuck against one another while Carlos brought this lips to yours, consuming all your lewd moans with sloppy kisses. He pushed his cock further into you, feeling his balls slap against you, making the most immoral and obscene sounds known to man.

With one hand placed on your hip, the other travelled to grope your breast. Rubbing your nipples in a circular motion, a shudder erupted through you, feeling your clit brush against his cock with each thrust of his.

Carlos looked down at you, feeling his cock pulse at the fucked out expression that teetered on your face. You could barely breathe with all the air escaping your lungs as the familiar white light edged near you. You clenched around his cock, signing Carlos that you were close.

"Carlos, fuck. I'm going to.... I'm going to..." You panted, unable to get out the words as the lust rang throughout your brain.

"You're going to cum? Tell me, mi amor, who did this to you? Who makes you feel this good, hmm?" Carlos beckoned, increasing the snap of his hips.

You cried out, right on the cusp of pleasure. "Tú, mierda, tú lo haces. Fuck!" You, fuck, you do.

Everything around you became a blur, your orgasm hitting you in waves of pleasure. Your moans were silent but your body said it loudly: shaking against Carlos' cock.

"That's right. Me. No one el–shit," Carlos cursed, feeling your orgasm in his cock as you clenched around him. A high-pitched sporadic whine fell from his lips, hips stuttering against you.

The both of you moaned as his hot white cum spilled into your walls. Your folds clamped around him, taking every last droplet into your pussy.

You fell against the bed with an exhausted sigh. You felt the bed dip as Carlos did the same. You felt his hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You turned your head to the side, raising a brow at the chocolate eyes flickering over you.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, cariño. I should've never ever let you be in a position where you felt like a fucking sidepiece. You are so much more than that. The love of my life," Carlos murmured, pushing a greasy lock of hair behind your ear.

Fuck. This was a new side of him you were seeing. The emotionally available one. And you loved it. "Well, as long as I'm not a sidepiece again," You shrugged, laughing softly.

"Never," Carlos confirmed. "You can beat me with those heels of yours if I ever do."

"Hmm... tempting. Although the guy from the club looks so much stronger. Did you see his muscles? So big," You fawned, fluttering your eyes dramatically.

Carlos sighed, shaking his head. An amused smile spawned on his face upon hearing you burst into laughter.

You were going to be the death of him.

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz imagine #formula 1

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meo-eiru · 5 months ago

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What's ur inspo for art? ur art style is so cute... any art advice?? Jajsjdkkaka, I understand if u wanna gatekeep 👁👁

I meant to answer this several days ago but couldn't find it in the sea of asks welp

Anyway as I mentioned before we don't gatekeep art related stuff in this household, artists help other artists.

Honestly it's hard to name an inspo but I do have artists I look up to a lot (this might be a bit long)

Kanisuke, you guys might be familiar with her, she's the artist of the upcoming yandere inside game Yandere Town. I know it's not out yet but I'm actually obsessed with this game and have even translated all the character intros (they are a bit old atp so there might be some mistakes) and actually if you see a Yandere Town related post high chance it's from me. Not only her art but I love her writing style as well.

Hakuri-sensei, their manga Sachi iro no One Room is definitely one of my biggest inspirations. I love the relationship between Sachi and her "captor" and it's the only manga I actually cried my eyes out while reading.

Tayu-sensei, all of their work for Yuugen Romantica (one of my fav drama cd series) are breathtaking and they've also developed even more since then, their current works are just so stunning and I love studying the way they draw hair

Shirahama-sensei, she👏is👏a👏queen👏 honestly I don't have much to say, go read Witch Hat Atelier it's an artistic masterpiece and a giant love letter to art itself

Furumi-sensei, another queen! She's the artist of my favorite Fate Grand Order character Ashiya Douman. I've even bough her art books before, honestly she is just so talented. I don't know what she was drinking when she came up with Douman but I need some of it

Usagi Routo-sense, another fgo artist AND JUST LOOK AT HOW INCREDIBLE THEY ARE AT USING COLORS LIKE??? HOW??? Their art is like cocain for my eyes I could look at them for hours

AU, one more fgo artist and oh my god guys this person right here is one of my biggest inspirations just look at their drawings. I'm not kidding I actually spent hours just inspecting how they shade outfits. I'd sacrifice my soul just to get a chance to watch them draw live

☝︎ FAN, an Ashiya Douman fanartist and god guys the comics they draw!!! They are the cause of some of my current biggest fetishes ngl

Oyo-sensei, an fgo artist and is also the main artist of 18trip. They have such a clean art style that's very pleasing to the eye. I especially love the reference sheets they draw.

Shibatora-sensei, she is the artist of my FAVORITE drama cd series Shinai naru Thanatos and my overall favorite yandere character from any fiction Seo Eito. Honestly if you know me irl probably the first thing you'd mention about me would be my chronic Shinai naru Thanatos addiction because based on what everyone says I start speaking about it within 2 weeks of meeting someone new.

ORKA, the artist of A Stepmother's Marchen. Anyone who knows that manhwa probably knows why she's on this list, her art has so much soul and passion in it, literally every single panel looks like a painting and it makes me want to cry just looking at it

82 Pigeon, an incredible incredible Korean artist, I think they also give art lessons? I really tried to get them but couldn't figure out how. They also have a youtube channel and I learn a lot just by watching their speedpaints

#asks #art inspo #art inspos #art inspirations #art #art tips

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stevie-petey · 5 months ago

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i just think that steve would 100% be stitching bug’s initial into his levi’s like tom holland stitches little z’s into his. it’s such loverboy behavior and i don’t think any thing has screamed steve more

steve and bug are so tom and z coded oh my GOD he 100000% does and here is how bug found out <333

enjoy !

"honey, can you pass me the chocolate chips?" your arms strain as you whisk oatmeal raisin batter. "it should be up on the shelf in the pantry."

"on it," steve kisses the base of your neck and quickly goes to find the missing ingredient. the small act of affection warms you, shielding you from the december cold.

its nearing christmas and youve been spent the last three days frantically baking your annual holiday treats. each year your list grows more and more. alex is a new addition, it had taken quite a bit of begging and pleading before he finally told you what dessert he liked (he hadnt wanted to bother you, which you find very endearing yet unneeded).

however, with the addition of alex comes also the loss of the byers. this year youre only baking two batches of oatmeal raisin, not four, and your kitchen lacks the scent of joyces favorite muffins. you miss them terribly, wills latest drawing came in the mail yesterday and you had nearly cried when you realized he drew a silly doodle of you surrounded by a million cookies and sweets. underneath the drawing will had written, save me some cookies!

"where did you say the chocolate chips were?" steve calls from the pantry.

"top shelf," you respond, blowing a strand of hair out of your face. "next to the sugar."

"i cant find them!"

he sounds distressed, you know steves trying his best to help you, and you cant help but laugh at him. he always does whatever he can to dote on you. setting the whisk down, you walk over to the boy. "here, let me show you."

steve is standing on his tip toes, arms stretched above his head as he looks for the sweets. his frame lithe and long, and his sweater rides up slightly as he strains. "i swear, i can find it-"

"whats that?" your eyes land on the hem of steves jeans. hes wearing his usual levis, the denim taut against his lower body. theyre faded from years of use, and theres something stitched onto the waistband of them that you havent seen before.

"whats what?" steve strains his head to look at you, still on his tip toes.

your fingers graze the stitch, warming his waist. he stumbles at the unexpected touch and nearly falls against you, but you dont notice any of it. all you can focus on right now is that there are small, messily sewn initials on his jeans with red string. it stands out harshly against the denims blue. the messy lines are familiar, the letters resemble the S.H. that currently resides on the sleeve of your cardigan.

"did you..." youre breathless, so in love that it threatens to suffocate you. "did you sew my initials onto your jeans?"

steve looks down, eyes widening when he realizes what youre referring to. he clears his throat, his face reddens a soft cherry hue. "oh, that? i-uh. well, you know. i-i mean, yeah."

he stumbles over his words and tries to step away, but his back presses against the shelf and hes cornered. he hadnt meant for you to see the initials, he nearly forgot about them entirely, if hes being honest. he had sewn them onto a few pairs of his jeans one night, missing you and unable to sleep. he had some spare needle and string leftover from when he sewed his own initials into your cardigan last christmas, he wanted everyone to know that he was yours, too.

and yet a small part of him hadnt wanted you to know about it. he had sewn the initials early into your relationship. steve knows youd never be cruel to him for showing so much love for you, but some days the fear of loving too hard still lingers.

seeing his fear, you grab one of steves beltloops and tug him forward, pulling his hips flush against yours. wrapping your arms over his neck, you bring his forehead to yours. "i love you."

"i love you, too." and hes put at ease. the fear dissipates, steve hasnt scared you off quite yet. he clears his throat again, allows himself to be vulnerable with you. his heart resides in the palm of your hands, he knows youll always be gentle with it, but sometimes he needs to breathe you in. steves fingers tug gently at your sleeve. "wanted to match with you."

you laugh, your entire body opens up with pure, unfiltered joy as your chest revibrates happiness. youre so in love with him that it hurts, that it blinds you sometimes. cheeks burning, you kiss the top of steves head. "youre as sweet as honey, have i ever told you that?"

"once or twice," he shrugs, trying to be coy, but his body radiates warmth and his voice drips saccharine.

you bury your face in his neck, inhale everything that he is. nose pressed to his collarbone, your lips find the smooth expanse of his skin and you kiss him softly. steve shivers at the softness, which you smile at. "think you could sew your initials onto some of my jeans?"

"only if i can get some of wheelers brownies."

"deal."

#southelroy #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #ask #come home blurb #m speaks #m's writing #set in between seasons 3 and 4 !#god theyre so in love it hurts #also if tom and zendaya ever break up .......

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alexiroflife · 8 months ago

Text

'stay with me'

"Across the Earth" Part 3 [finale]: satoru gojo x reader

part 1 | part 2

Synopsis: after having talked with suguru about your relationship with satoru, you find yourself rethinking everything during a night out with the group

to sum it up: suguru suggests you should confess, but you're too scared

WC: 8,997

Ten o’clock eventually rolls around after Satoru spent a good five minutes shouting throughout the house for everyone to get dressed to go to a bar. The thought of drinking or having to deal with one of your friends being intoxicated does not sound very appealing to you at the time, but you figure you shouldn’t argue considering where you currently stand with Satoru.

After your talk with Suguru, you finally managed to get your work done before it was time for you to get dressed. You rummaged through the overnight back that Satoru had apparently taken upon himself to pack for you in search for something to wear when you found the short black dress you had tossed into your luggage on a whim in case you were to happen upon an instance in which you would need to wear it. How Satoru had managed to locate this piece of clothing, you’re not even sure, but you put it on and do your makeup that Satoru also so graciously remembered to pack for you.

You glance in the long mirror by your dresser at your reflection, turning to the side to examine the accentuation of your curves against your dress's stretchy fabric with a sigh. The dress clasps around your thighs and reaches down just above your knees. You admit to yourself that you look good, but your physical appearance does nothing to sway the pit that proceeds to sink into your gut at the thought of Satoru and everything that Suguru said to you.

You’re in the midst of trying to give yourself a pep talk to mentally prepare yourself for the night when you hear Satoru shouting again for you to get a move on, his voice vibrating through the walls of the house. You assume you’re the last to get ready when Satoru doesn’t address anyone else but you.

You trudge down the steps with your hand gliding against the railing, wedges clacking against the stairs until you reach the main hallway and find your friends standing by the door. Shoko’s wearing a cropped silk shirt and a skirt with a cute pin holding up the side of her hair while Suguru, naturally, wears loose and dark pants with a black button up.

But then, of course, there’s Satoru, standing almost as a god before you in a similar shirt to Geto’s only his is a pale light blue with the first few buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to his elbows in the same fashion he wears most of his shirts and linen pants.

You immediately look at everyone but him, completely unable to withstand the gorgeous sight of him dressed up and so well.

When you walk over to them, you feel Satoru’s eyes hit you in what has to be less than two seconds, and while you aren’t looking at him, Suguru notices the way his eyes twitch wide and his brows lift ever so slightly as he looks at you, wandering eyes roaming swiftly over your figure before bouncing back upward.

“I’m here now, no need to keep screaming,” you say with a rigid face. You can’t help but let your eyes flicker into Satoru’s direction to catch his gaze for a millisecond before clearing your throat and looking down.

“We can’t take you two out like this,” Suguru groans, referring to you and Ieiri. You both look at him with quirked brows. “We’re gonna be swarmed by thirsty men the second we step outside.”

“What?!” you and Shoko exclaim as you all start making your way to the door, you, Shoko, and Suguru leading while Satoru trails behind to lock the door after everyone.

“Don’t be mad because (Y/n) and I are hot, Suguru,” Shoko snaps, poking the dark haired man in the shoulder.

“I am mad. I don’t want randoms ruining the night because they don’t know how to coexist with attractive women.”

“You don’t hear us complaining about you and Satoru when girls try to clobber you! Don’t be so sexist.”

“I’m not being sexist, I’m being realistic.”

“Can we all just agree that we’re all hot and attention will follow wherever we go?” you hear Satoru chime in cockily as he locks the door behind him. “No need to compete over it.”

“Who said we were competing? I just said that I don’t want the extra attention,” Suguru responds. You watch as Shoko climbs into the back seat, but you freeze when Suguru follows and sits next to her, leaving the only empty seat to be the front passenger next to the driver, Satoru.

You glare at Suguru out of the side of your eye urgently, and he looks up and around, pretending he doesn’t see. You seethe and swear to yourself that at times, Suguru is even worse than Satoru, which you suppose is why they are such good friends.

You force yourself to suck it up and keep yourself together like an adult. You reach for the car door handle, only to be intercepted by Satoru’s soft hand. His fingers brush yours clumsily, and you jump to look at him when you realize that you two are reaching for the same thing.

The albino man holds your gaze for a moment, watching as you mumble a timid apology instead of barking at him to question what he’s doing so close to you. He doesn’t acknowledge your words when he reaches again to yank the door open and hold it for you stiffly, just as he always does.

You press your lips together, clasping your hands in front of you and slowly stepping into the car. “Thanks,” you mumble, unsure as to why Satoru is still willing to display these gestures of gentlemanliness for you when he is allegedly upset with you, and more importantly, when he’s not goofing around with you and trying to gauge a reaction.

Satoru lingers at the door for a few seconds too long when he shuts it behind you, pressing up to it with both hands before making his way to his seat.

You arrive at your destination after a short drive, clambering out of the vehicle to enter the bar, or at least, what Satoru told you all is a bar. Nevertheless, when you push open the door and make your way inside, you’re greeted by bright lights waving violently through darkness, a crowd of people moving about in the center of the space and dancing wildly. A hightop bar surrounds the outskirts of the room, bartender tending to girls who lean on each other for stability and men who try to hit on said girls. The space is loud, as well, blasting an array of different music genres as the DJ up front nods his head aggressively to the beats.

You and Suguru falter, staring ahead of you in distaste as Satoru smiles for the first time since this morning, or so you believe. “Welcome, you guys,” Satoru beams, gesturing his arms toward the tightly packed enclosure.

“Satoru,” Suguru starts, a dangerous tone in his voice. “What the fuck is this?”

“A bar?” the blue eyed man responds as if the question’s answer is obvious, which it isn’t.

“This is a nightclub,” Shoko yells, shouting over the noise. “Not a bar!”

“Is there really a difference?”

“Oh my god.”

“What’s with the faces? It’ll be fun! Like old times,” Satoru grins, inching further into space. “We go to places like these all the time.”

“Yeah,” Suguru catches up to him to smack the side of his head, and Satoru yelps dramatically. “With a warning.”

“Well yeah sure, suck the fun out of the outing,” Satoru shoves Suguru back, the dark haired man tossing a murderous glare to him over his shoulder.

You shake your head to yourself, truthfully not even angry about the entire ordeal. You’ve spent weeks being angry with Satoru and now that you’re out, you’ve been caught off guard but you can’t say that you have the energy to care any longer. You feel Shoko lock her fingers with yours and tug you, leading you to follow. “We’re gonna go get drinks,” the brown eyed woman announces, the two of you skipping off to push through bodies to reach the alcohol.

“Don’t get kidnapped!” Suguru calls out.

Geto doesn’t miss the way Satoru’s eyes follow you intensely. He scoffs and elbows him in the ribs, Gojo bending over and clutching his upper abdomen. “What the fuck,” he wheezes.

“Get your shit together tonight,” his hazel eyed companion demands, and Satoru’s squinting his eyes up at him over his frames.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna give me a lecture…”

“If you get it together, I won’t have to,” Suguru says.

Satoru rises slowly, face mellowing out into an expression of discomfort. “Is this about what I think it’s about?”

“What else would it be about?”

Satoru frowns. “I told you already, I’m not gonna keep making myself look stupid. If anyone’s gotta fix anything, it’s her.”

“Oh really?” Suguru hums. “You know, Satoru, it’s unhealthy to direct all of the blame to the other person

“Wh- she ghosted me!”

“And you reacted by…?”

Satoru clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes, brushing strands of white hair from his line of sight. He glances over the crowd to relocate you and Shoko, watching as the brunette hops up into a stool while you lean against the counter, that damned dress he threw in your bag without thinking lining the curve of your ass as you poke it out subconsciously while pressing against the wood. Satoru thinks he’s going to lose his mind, watching the way your foot crosses over your heel and as men stumble bass by, but not without throwing a glance your way unbeknownst to you.

Why do you have to look fucking edible tonight? Why couldn’t you have just worn sweatpants and a t-shirt and called it a night? Why do you have to look so breathtakingly gorgeous everywhere you go?

“I’d do it again too,” Satoru says to himself though Suguru can hear it loud and clear. “She just needed to be reminded that she cares about us, that’s all.”

Satoru hears Suguru release a long sigh, eyes closing and arms crossing. “You’re completely missing the point. Both of you are,” he repeats, this time to Satoru.

“What? Both of us?” he perks up at the last part of his best friend’s sentence. “What does that mean? Is that coming from whatever you guys talked about earlier? What did she say to you?”

“I’m not doing this,” Suguru stops him while he’s ahead. “I’m going to get wasted. I feel like I’ll need to with however this night is about to go.”

“No fair! I’m the designated driver,” Satoru whines, following closely behind Suguru to make his way through the crowd. “You’re all gonna drink without me?!”

“You’ll be fine, lightweight.”

“Some thanks I get for bringing us all out tonight. You guys suck.”

The guys eventually make their way over to you at the bar and find that Shoko has already ordered the two of you shots. Suguru chuckles at her hastiness and orders one more, leading Satoru to murmur incoherently to himself as he leans his back against the counter and watches you all down the nasty liquor. You all tighten your faces and scrunch your noses simultaneously, slamming the glasses down. “Alright, that was a mistake. I’m done,” you say quickly, rejecting the shot glass and shoving it toward the edge of the counter.

Satoru, from Suguru’s side, peers over him to look at you curiously. You look over at him, relaxing your face to see what he wants from you. “Done already?” he marvels, a question that holds no hint of playfulness to it. You shrug.

“Yeah. The taste of alcohol’s not agreeing with me tonight,” you reply casually, catching Suguru ordering another round with a giggling Shoko out of the corner of your eye. “Looks like I’m playing babysitter instead.”

“That’ll make two of us,” Satoru agrees, and the conversation falls short. You nod to yourself awkwardly, setting your hands on the countertop and looking down. Before Satoru can ponder saying anything more to you, the bartender returns to your section with two more shots for Suguru and Shoko. He’s wearing a small smirk as he sets the glasses down before them, slinging a cloth over his shoulder and leaning forward on his forearm.

“You guys haven’t wasted any time,” he comments, attempting to spark a conversation you assume is for the sake of tips.

Suguru chooses to dissociate, hardly in much of a social mood if it’s not with the friends he has arrived with, leaving Shoko to answer for him. “Party’s gotta start somewhere,” she shrugs, and the bartender grins. Suguru and Satoru exchange knowing, annoyed gazes. Here goes the first one of the night.

“That’s absolutely true,” he nods, turning to look at you. Satoru sees the shift of attention as fast as it occurs, and he already isn’t liking it. “What about you? You don’t wanna party?”

You tighten your lips into a harsh smile, laughing lightly with the shake of your head. “No, no, just looking out for these two.”

“Ah. Then you must be a good friend.”

“Oh, you’d have to ask them,” you point down the line of the three beside you. “I can’t say.”

“Don’t be so humble,” he needles lightly. “I’m sure you’re wonderful.”

“What about me?” All heads turn to Satoru, whose chin is propped up and his glasses are lifted above his head, strained grin on his features. “I’m not drinking either. Do you think I’m wonderful?” he drawls, and you slap your hand over your face.

The bartender laughs with far less energy he had speaking to you, suddenly busying himself with polishing a glass. “I’m sure you are, man,” he says before excusing himself to check on other customers. Shoko bursts into loud laughter once he leaves and Suguru downs his second shot, eager to become numb to everything he’s noticing.

“What? He was trying too hard,” Satoru defends, and you look at him intently, for this is the second time within a day that Satoru has interfered with a man’s interaction with you. You were so mad about it before because he was disrespecting your research partner, but now with this guy you didn’t even want to talk to in the first place, you’re taking a second look at his behavior in a different light.

The word Shoko used earlier flashes through your mind. Territorial.

What the hell did Satoru have to be territorial over when you were his friend?

“That’s his job, Satoru. He’s gonna talk our heads off to get a good tip,” Suguru reasons, wincing at the taste of alcohol fresh on his tongue again.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Satoru says rather brightly.

“God, just order another round already.”

With Shoko and Suguru on their way towards blacking out, you and Satoru remain keenly aware of the things that happen around you. The room grows hot due to the gathering and compaction of sweaty bodies dancing together.

At one point, Shoko drags you into the heat, pulling you by your hands and dancing wildly along with you. You laugh at her tipsy state, moving along with her nonetheless as people bump up against you, hollering with intoxicated joy. You allow yourself to let go for a moment, bringing yourself back to all the late nights you had shared with your friends within this exact kind of environment, screaming with each other for absolutely no reason without a single care in the world.

You recall the times Satoru would drag you to the dance floor with him, making you watch the absurdly ridiculous way he danced that had you kneeling over in laughter, hands gripping his arms as the alcohol within your system made you practically die laughing. You had always missed the way Satoru would look down at you as you laughed with your head bowed, an affectionate grin sweeping over his face as the sound of your amusement inspired his own laughs.

You look back on those memories and find yourself momentarily happy to be here, Ieiri jumping up and down before you as if she’s having the time of her life, spinning around and yelling out the lyrics to a song you didn’t even think she knew.

You’re enjoying yourself, gripping Shoko’s hand as she spins you around in turn, watching her trip slightly over her feet as she manages to do so. She’s always been an energetic drunk, you think to yourself, often matching the chaotic behavior of Satoru.

At the thought of his name, you look around to find him and see that he’s still by the bar with Suguru, seemingly poking fun at his mellow drunken state. The dark haired man blinks slowly, eyes lidded as he tunes out whatever nonsense is being spewed into his ear by Gojo. After you watch the tall man take a video of Suguru and the said twenty one year old smack his phone out of his hand, Satoru’s eyes catch yours when he picks himself up from dropping his phone.

You can feel the air thicken with tension, and suddenly, the chaos around you slows. You don’t understand what brings the two of you to constantly lock eyes, for you can’t even count how many times the two of you have made eye contact throughout this night alone. Satoru seems to watch you in slow motion, both of your smiles sparked by separate occurrences dwindling in the slightest as the concentration of your gazes consume the moment. You can feel your heart ringing in your ears, confusion, desperation, fear, and admiration gripping your body as those ocean blue eyes sink into you from across the room, dominating the hundreds of other presences far closer to you than he is.

You ponder over where all the anger you had just harbored for him went. You’re looking at him now, under the flashing pink and green lights that cross over his majestic features, and you can’t find a thing to be mad at. You haven’t been able to, in fact, since after your conversation with Suguru, or perhaps even before that when Satoru stormed out of your room.

Looking at him now, all you can see is him looking at you, the longing to have you back in his life, the hope that he hasn’t completely ruined his chances of remaining friends with you. Suguru had suggested that Satoru may surprise you if you were to confess to him, and the sentiment has your head reeling. Does he know something that you don’t? Does he understand better the reason as to why his eyes can’t seem to tear themselves off of you? As to how he manages to find you in a sea of people as if you are the only person there?

You’re a mess of confliction and heartache when it comes to comprehending your dynamic with Satoru. You thought you had understood him so well, that he’s a person of privilege who can get whatever he wants without caring how it affects others along the way, that he only stuck by your side for so long because he liked to play with your head and to test your patience. You thought you knew, but there’s a chance that you weren’t paying as much attention to him as you thought you were.

If Satoru didn’t take you seriously, why would he have remembered the foods that you like? If he didn’t take you seriously, why did he always stay the night whenever he heard of you having a rough call with your parents? If he didn’t take you seriously, why did he watch you as though you’re the only individual that exists within his line of sight, within his mind, within his entire universe?

You don’t know what to do anymore. Everything you thought you knew has been completely misconstrued, thrown into question, and you’re finding it difficult to return to the mindset you even had this morning.

You’re under a spell cast by his attention on you until a pair of women brush by him and Suguru, pausing to get their attention by tapping Satoru’s shoulder. Your smile has fallen now and Satoru looks torn, eyes flickering between you and the redhead in front of him who leans up to speak directly into his ear due to the overbearing volume of the atmosphere, Satoru tensing as he forces himself to listen. His stare grows anxious, as though he’s been caught doing something bad. You can see the slight panic hit his face as he throws on a suave facade to respond to the girl, looking subtly weary at the way her hand lingers on his shoulder.

You don’t watch any longer, ripping your eyes away and turning back to Shoko. You don’t want to know, you tell yourself. You don’t want to see, you don’t want to hear anything about what that girl could have been saying to him, leaning in close as her lips brush centimeters away from his ears. You don’t want to think about it, whether the conversation is benign or not, you can’t handle the sight. You can’t handle the still lingering possibility, no- the fear that Satoru would see you as just the same as that girl, grasping for his recognition like the rest of the world.

Therefore, you subconsciously avoid him for the rest of the night, bringing you right back to where you started.

The two of you decide that the night should come to a close when it hits one in the morning, and Suguru can barely stand while Shoko is trying to steal the mic from the DJ. Satoru has to physically remove her from the premises, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder as he makes his way to the door. You’re left to help Suguru, telling him to wrap his arm around you to stabilize himself while you lead him to the car. You grunt under his weight, removing your arm from his torso to help ease him into his car seat by holding his arms. He stumbles in ungracefully just as Satoru bends down to lower Shoko down next to him. You and Satoru sit in silence once more as Shoko rambles to herself about god knows what, and Suguru holds his forehead as though he has a headache.

When you make it back, you somehow manage to get the two up the stairs and situated into their own rooms. You huff, out of breath after having to pull Suguru into his room with a glass of water and a trash can beside his bed. You step out into the hall, closing his door gently behind you to hear a struggle a few doors down where Satoru is begging Shoko to go to sleep and by the sounds of it, she’s too busy jumping up and down on her bed. You laugh to yourself at just how different Shoko is from her normally laid back personality after a night out.

You think about turning in to go to sleep, but for the second night in a row, you don’t find yourself tired from the day. You elect to take your shoes off and head out back to the pool, sitting on the side and wading your feet in the cool water. You sigh softly and look down at the small waves that ripple with the sway of your feet, the gentle splosh of liquid filling the night air. At one point, you notice that the commotion upstairs has gone quiet, and you assume that Satoru has finally managed to put Shoko to bed.

You hear heavy footsteps slowly descend the stairs and approach from behind you. You get a feeling of deja vu from the previous night when you turn and find Satoru standing just a few feet away with a look of surprise on his features. You see that he’s taken off his glasses and shoes, likely having come to do exactly what you are doing.

“Oh,” he mumbles. “Sorry, I thought you were in your room,” he says quietly.

You shake your head, looking at the ground then back up to him. “No, not tired.”

“Again, huh?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

He hums, unsure of where to look all of a sudden. “Is… Suguru good?”

“Um, yeah he’s fine. He passed out as soon as he hit the bed,” you tell him. “What about Shoko?”

“She’s knocked out, finally,” he says. “She made sure to make it extra difficult for me, though.”

You smile gently. “I heard.”

“I swear that woman is a nightmare when she drinks.”

You appreciate the way Satoru attempts to lighten the conversation, bringing a hint of humor into something you can both laugh at. The lights inside are all out save for a dim lamp in the kitchen and the pool lights that keep the outdoor area illuminated. It grows blatantly quiet, the house still as Satoru stands in the walkway, tired, nervous, unsure.

After a few moments, you hear Satoru clap his hands awkwardly. “I guess I’ll leave you to it then,” he says slowly, and you look up at him with a hint of disappointment. “I can take you back to the city tomorrow morning so you can, you know, get back to work.”

Your lips part, (e/c) eyes glazing over in the soft light as Satoru watches you to see if you have anything more to add, but you unfortunately can’t think of the right thing to say. You don’t want him to leave, but you don’t know what making him stay out here will do for either of you. You’re in such a strange space with him, questioning whether he’s still angry with you and him most likely doing the same. The only thing that’s on your mind now is how bad you’ve let things get solely because of your love for him, and it’s eating you up on the inside knowing that as long as these feelings are bottled up inside you, the likelihood of losing Satoru as a friend for good remains.

Satoru takes your silence as a means to leave and exhales, turning to go back inside. “Good night,” he tells you halfheartedly.

“...Good night.”

Satoru stops suddenly, fists tightening at his sides. You notice that his posture has stiffened even more than it already was as he prevents himself from leaving, and you grow slightly concerned. “Satoru? Are you okay?”

“Is that really all you have to say?” he asks, whipping his head around to look at you. He’s upset again, you can tell, but possibly even more so than he was earlier. He looks angrier, more enraged as his brows furrow harshly and his eyes glow with unreleased emotion. You look at him blankly, put off by his outburst as he awaits something more from you, anything from you.

“...I don’t know what you mean.”

This does not seem to be the right answer, for it only makes him angrier. “How can you not know what I mean? After everything that happened today, you still have nothing to say to me?”

“If you’re looking for an apology about this morning, then I don’t think I did anything wrong…?”

Satoru scoffs and laughs disbelievingly, eyes widening as he stares at you as if to process the words that have come out of your mouth. He courses his hands through his messy hair in stress, astonished by you. “I genuinely don’t know what to do with you, (Y/n),” he chuckles. “It’s not even just about this morning- it’s about everything. Everything that’s led us here.”

“I apologized for trying to stop talking to you, Satoru, what more do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know, to say that you care about me?” he throws his hands up. “I mean, do you? Do you even care?”

Your heart clenches at his words, turning to bring your feet out of the water. “Of course I care.”

“Then why do you act like you don’t?”

You stand, sensing the way the conversation takes a turn into intensity. Water drips down your legs from your shins and onto the ground, the air nipping at your damp skin though you can hardly tell. “How could I possibly act like I don’t care about you?”

“Because you choose to be civil with everyone but me, (Y/n)! Suguru, Shoko, your research partner, some bartender- everyone, when I’m the one who's always been here, who’s always cared about you. Me! And you still just-” Satoru sucks in a breath, realizing that he has inched himself further toward you with each passionate stance he takes, face reddening and hands grasping the air for nothing, though what he longs to hold the most stands right before him, appearing as lost as he feels caring for you. He drops his hands to his sides, tightening the muscles in his face.

He’s hurt. He wants you to hear him, to see him, to fight with him over your relationship, but you do nothing, just like always.

Just then, your phone lights up from where it sits by the pool and rings. You jump, startled by the sound and turn to see who is calling you at this time of night. As if the universe couldn’t have hated you any more than it already did, the sight of Aoto’s contact buzzing only solidifies its discontent with you.

You turn back around and watch Satoru’s hardened eyes stare at your phone knowingly, nosing flaring. “Satoru-”

“Forget it,” he spits. “Just fucking forget it.”

“No, Satoru, wait-” you call out. You see him moving away from you, drawing himself back, and your heart drops. You don’t want him to go, you don’t want him to go.

You jump forward and grab his hand tightly, pulling him back over to you with desperation. He looks shocked at first, yet still aggravated when he turns back to look at you. When he sees your hand gripping his firmly, his resolve cracks just a bit.

“Please, I don’t know why he’s calling right now, please,” you beg him, fully aware of how pathetic you sound, but you don’t care. You’ve spent your entire friendship being angry with Satoru, and now you just want to make things right. You want to understand him. You want him to know that everything you did to harm him was to prevent yourself from getting harmed, and while you understand that it’s selfish, it’s what you thought was right. But you don’t think that anymore.

Satoru can feel his body burn from the touch of your hand. He’s so weak for you, he’s known this for a long time, but he can’t stand it. He doesn’t want to look stupid in front of you, he doesn’t want to be ridiculed for caring about you any longer. You’re torturing him, but he can’t pull away. “(Y/n),” he breathes out raggedly, eyes stuck to your conjoined hands. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“What can’t you do?” you whisper, eyes glistening over, the sound of your phone ringing eventually dying off. “I told you I wasn’t gonna do what I did again.”

“Somehow, I just don’t believe you,” he murmurs. “I can see you constantly running from me in your head and I don’t know why. I never will.”

“Please,” your voice betrays you, trembling slightly, and Satoru can not help but melt at the sound.

He’s so weak. You make him so god damn weak.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

“What are you sorry for?” the blue eyed man questions, turning into you. “Do you even know why you’re apologizing anymore?”

“Clearly I keep doing something wrong, Satoru, or else you wouldn’t be looking at me like this!” you cry hopelessly. “I know I fucked up before. I know I did, but today we have a whole other issue that I just don’t understand!”

“(Y/n), you’re the one who got angry with me in the first place.”

“Because you keep doing things that mess with my head, and I don't understand where I stand with you!” you say, and Satoru stares at you, aggrieved. “I don’t know how you can’t understand why I was mad! You weren’t in any place to talk to another guy like you’re-” you cut yourself off, but Satoru is too invested now to let you freeze up.

“Like I’m what? Just tell me!” he urges, and you slip your hand from his abruptly.

“I- UGH!” you shout out, rubbing your hands over your face. You pace around, walking in a circle in front of Satoru before settling back to where you were. “Satoru, I compare myself to you all the time. I’m always looking at the difference between where you stand and where I stand.”

The corner of Gojo’s noise twists upward in confusion. “What?” he exhales.

“Everywhere I go, I see you. I see the way people look at you, the way girls try to talk to you, the way you brush them away, all of it.”

Satrou thinks back to that moment at the bar when those girls approached him asking for his social media handle and he refused politely, claiming that he didn’t have one. “What- what the hell does any of that have to do with anything I’m saying right now?”

“I pushed away because I thought you saw and cared about the same differences between us. But I was the one who cared, who was nervous about it,” you confess. “I thought that you were always around, teasing me because you wanted to prove that you can affect anyone, including me.”

Satoru’s shoulders slump. “...You thought I was only friends with you so I could bother you?” he repeats lowly, as if the very words that touch his tongue are too dangerous to be spoken any louder.

“You have to understand, I was raised differently from you.”

“Why the fuck does that matter?” he demands. “Why would I care about anything like that?”

“I don’t know, but that’s what I thought! That’s what I was afraid of.”

“So you just lumped me into the same category that everyone else in the world lumps me in?” he says bitterly. “You saw me as someone who didn’t value our friendship? That’s what you numbed me down to?”

“I didn’t know!”

“How could you not know, (Y/n)? How could you not know that I would do anything for you?” He steps toward you, gathering your shoulders in his hands as he stares directly into your soul. Your lip trembles as you look at him, overwhelmed. “How could you see me as something so much less than how I see you?” his voice dips down, and a lump builds in your throat.

“It wasn’t like that,” you deny. “I was just scared.”

“Scared of what? You’re fucking killing me, here, (Y/n).”

“I was scared of caring about you more than you could care about me,” you tell him gently, voice sliding into a strained whimper. Pools of sapphire blue dart over your features in search of a clearer explanation, a reason as to why you’ve inspired so much pain.

“That’s what I’m scared of,” Satoru emphasizes. “I’m terrified of it. I’m terrified that you’ll just disappear one day without telling me. That’s why I couldn’t handle you ‘taking space,’ that’s why I couldn’t stand the sight of you with your research partner and not with me, that’s why everywhere you end up going, I will pathetically follow because I can not stomach the thought of you pulling completely away,” he pours out, such raw candor capturing his face.

Your heart is thrumming, caught in your eyes and your throat as tears well up into your eyes. You breathe swiftly through your nose, watching as Satoru takes your face in his hands and stares at you as though he can’t catch any air in your presence. “I pushed you away because I couldn’t stomach the thought that you’d deny me the way that you deny everyone who crosses paths with you,” you tell him, mimicking his words.

“Listen to me,” he whispers firmly. “You are the only person in this world that I would never deny. I don’t know how much clearer I can make myself to you.”

A tear breaks past your lashes and rushes down your cheek, your own emotions betraying you. You can’t fight your heartache any longer, not when the man you love is cradling your face in his hands and telling you that he would choose you over anyone who tries to come his way.

He swipes his thumb over your cheek tenderly, smoothing away your tears. “Why are you crying?” he asks delicately and you shrug.

“I just spent the last three years so scared of you not giving a shit about me,” you sigh shakily. “And I behaved accordingly, and now…” you gulp, hands trembling at your sides as Satoru caresses your face softly. “I was angry with you because you were acting possessive over me with Aoto,” you breathe out, a weight lifting from your chest. “I always thought you did things to get a rise out of me, so when you talked to him like you had a reason to be possessive, it got to me. Especially after you came here unannounced.”

Satoru doesn’t speak for a moment, studying the flutter in your lashes that are decorated with pearly tears and the way your nose twitches move when you sniffle, (e/c) eyes soaking in his being. It doesn��t take long before he notices that he’s slightly shaking himself. “Why do you think I'd be possessive over you in the first place?” he poses the question gingerly, brushing a piece of hair from the side of your face.

You glaze at him, torn. “I don’t know,” you mumble and he bows his head in defeat.

“Come on,” he breathes, looking back up at you. “Come on,” he says again, holding you tighter. “Stop making me look dumb.”

“I’m not trying to,” you tell him, truthfully. “Satoru, why did you come here?” you muster up the strength to ask him for the final time.

“You know why,” he responds.

“Tell me.”

His face relaxes, his brows releasing from their pinched state and his lips falling into a neutral stance as he continues to stare at you. “Because I’m in love with you,” he admits, and your head spins. Your pupils expand as a few more tears rush down your face, blurring the image of him that you so desperately yearn to see. He lowers his head to meet your eyes at your level, holding your head still so that you can’t look away. He looks suddenly calm as the confession rushes from him, leading you both beyond the point of no return. “I love you so much that I flew all the way across the earth for you, and I’d do it again.”

You lean into him and shut your eyes, overcome by relief and love and regret all at once. The pads of Satoru’s gentle thumbs proceed to slide under your eyes to gather the mass of your tears, smearing them across your makeup.

“I love you so much that I woke up every morning to text you, that I memorized every single class schedule you had so that I could meet with you when you were done, that I always came over to your dorm when I was free, that when you stopped texting me my heart felt like it was going to shatter into a thousand pieces, that when I heard you were traveling my first instinct was to run after you because I don’t want you to go anywhere without me.”

His words shower over you like golden rays of warm sun, easing around your heart and mending the torment that you had subjected yourself to for months on end. It’s too much, hearing Satoru Gojo list all the things he has done for the sake of love when you’ve been accusing him of being selfish all this time.

“(Y/n),” he says your name like it’s a prayer. “I love you so much that I feel like I’m going to lose my mind any time another guy even speaks to you. I can’t help but be possessive over you for those reasons. I can’t help but want you all to myself, and I know that’s selfish, but if you only see me as someone who doesn’t care, then there’s nothing I can do to change that. And I am sorry for any time I've ever made you feel like you were nothing when you’ve been everything.”

You can’t breathe. You’re completely captured by Satoru, his essence, his being, his confession. Your heart is bursting, your body is shaking, and you have no words to say that could begin to explain all that you are feeling.

Satoru loves you. He’s always loved you, and you had been so blinded by your insecurities that you hadn’t seen everything he has always done to show you that.

You open your eyes to gaze at him, his rosy cheeks and sharp eyes that send shivers down your spine, his perfect lips, and his body towering over you, swallowing you into him. You see him clearly now, and you break.

You reach out and grab his sides, pushing in to connect your lips.

Years of doubt and pent up tension wash away the moment your lips touch, and you can finally think clearly. Satoru’s eyes go wide when he feels you against him, stunned by your boldness and asking himself whether this is real or not. It doesn’t take him long to give in when he processes what is happening, and he tugs you further and returns your kiss, melting into you blissfully.

You think fireworks are going off, sparks flying, and electricity jolting as he digs his fingers into the back of your head, tilting his own to deepen your kiss and glide his glossy lips over yours. You furrow your brows, drifting into his warmth and humming softly as his mouth moves languidly against yours.

His hands move down, clutching at your waist and wrapping you to his chest, seeking to bring you into him with the hopes of conjoining souls. He’s sweet, the way he kisses you, meticulous and passionate, absorbing the taste of you that he’s been longing to obtain for as long as he’s known you. His palms smooth over your curves, familiarizing and feeling over the fabric of your tight dress, every dip in your hips and plush of your backside, smoothing over your body like a man starved.

Satoru groans, parting from you for a split second to tilt his head the other way and kiss you again, even deeper. Your mind goes numb as you wind your arms slowly around his neck, leaning onto your tiptoes to press yourself further against his mouth. The white haired man is quick to comply, tucking his arms under your thighs and hoisting them up and around his torso. You crush down into him from this new angle, hair falling over your faces as his tongue swipes against your lip, begging to gain access to yours. You part your lips eagerly, welcoming the swirl of his wet muscles around your own, moaning softly into his mouth as saliva pools over your lips.

Satoru’s whipped, completely smitten by you and the feeling of your body pressed to his, addicted to the way your dress rises up over your thighs and the outline of your underwear rubs against his pants zipper. He can feel the blood rushing down already, his face down to his chest flustered angrily as he loses himself in you, biting greedily at your lip and sucking in the delicious taste of your mouth.

He’s moving forward subconsciously, palming over the fat of your ass and pushing you further against his crotch, your pretty fingers knitting into his snowy locks and tugging at the roots. God, it’s everything he’s ever wanted, everything he’s dreamed of brought to one moment in time. The two of you repeatedly break away to push back in, mushing damp lips together in supple pecks, and you breathe a proclamation into him as he grows dizzy, the heat of your breath fanning over his swollen lips.

“I love you too,” you whisper so enticingly, so fully, and he’s moaning helplessly into you, grinding his hips up into yours. “I’ve always loved you.”

You can feel him all over you, touching you, kissing you, and you're drunk off of his affections, falling into the sugary taste of his lips and the warmth of his hands smoothing over your bare thighs.

His lips break away to find your neck, licking and biting along your skin. You tilt your chin back, allowing him further access to your throat as his lips swim over it graciously, sucking hungrily at soft patches and dragging the most beautiful noises from your mouth. “Need you,” he hisses into your neck, teeth nipping and tongue smoothing over bruises in his wake. “Stay with me, please,” he begs senselessly. “Please, baby, I need you. I’ll always need you.”

You’re nodding against him, lips falling into an ‘o’ shape as he sucks marks down to your collarbone, tugging at the straps of your dress and pulling them over your shoulder so that he can kiss all over your chest. “I’ll stay,” you promise him. “Need you too, Toru, I’ll stay. I’m not going anywhere.”

Satoru thinks he’s floating into heaven, now, blessed by your assurance and your reciprocation after having convinced himself that he would never get it. He lifts his head again to reconnect your lips, stepping forward once more only to lose his footing, foot meeting the water instead of the concrete. He parts from you with a smack and you shriek when balance is lost and the two of you are falling into the pool with a SPLASH!

Satoru doesn’t let go of you when you submerge underwater, keeping you close to him when you resurface with a gasp. The two of you breathe harshly, looking around in a stupor. Your arms are still around his neck and legs around his torso, drenched. You look over at his flat hair dripping over his face and you push it away, peeling it from his wet skin to see that he’s already laughing. You gape and whack him on the shoulder, leading him to laugh even louder.

“Satoru!” you cry and he’s giggling, curling his fingers into your skin underwater and leaning into you.

“Sorry,” he laughs, wiping away at his eyes. “I forgot the pool was there.”

“You idiot,” you shake your head, running your fingers over his cheek as he looks at you lovingly, lips stretched into a dopey grin.

“I love you, (Y/n),” he says again, dipping his head to press his lips to your forehead then to the bridge of your nose, and you’re smiling too, stupid off of his adoration.

“I love you,” you tell him and he’s squealing, gripping you tight and squeezing you to him by your waist.

“Tell me again,” he grins, and you roll your eyes.

“I love you, moron.”

“Again.”

“I love you,” you giggle.

“Again, this time with my name.”

“Satoru,” you groan.

“No, you didn’t do it right. Say ‘I love you, Satoru Gojo.’”

“You’re so annoying,” you press against his soaked chest.

“Say it again!” he demands dramatically and you huff.

“Oh my god!” you exclaim. “I love you, Satoru Gojo. Always.”

His cheeks warm, lips moving to peck all over your face. You squeak, gripping his shoulders as he peppers you with loud, obnoxious kisses, leaving you with little space to breathe. “I love you so much,” he mumbles against your cheek. “Almost gave me a heart attack. I thought I was gonna have to kidnap you or something if you kept trying to leave me.”

“You already did kidnap me!”

“And I have no regrets. Sue me,” he beams.

“Of course you don’t,” you exhale. “After all, you followed me to America with no shame. Which I knew you did from the beginning!”

“Duh,” he scoffs. “I’d go anywhere for you.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms back around him and brushing your nose against his. “You’re crazy.”

“When it comes to you, absolutely I am,” he smiles then presses back into you, lips meeting in harmony as he spins you around the water, holding you close and vowing to stay by your side for as long as you let him.

The ping off your phone disrupts the moment once more and you look over, Satoru groaning and ducking his head to your shoulder. “I should probably check that now,” you say, and his grip around you tightens.

“No, don’t,” he pleads. “Pay more attention to me.”

“Just give me a second, drama queen, it could be important,” you say and he pouts.

“Fine,” he grumbles, dragging you over through the water slowly so that you can reach the edge and look at your phone. You quickly read the message that pops up and panic.

“Oh shit.”

“What?”

“I forgot to send Aoto the spreadsheet.”

“Fucking finally.”

You and Satoru break away from each other to turn and see Suguru at the foot of the stairs followed by Shoko, wrapped up in a blanket with a miserable look on her face. It’s the following morning, and you and Satoru were up all night talking, kissing, holding each other. You had managed to take a second to send your spreadshirt to Aoto at around three in the morning, and you could only hope that he didn’t mind. At some point, you made your way into the kitchen to sit inside, and Suguru caught Satoru leaning over your seat to kiss you softly at nine in the morning.

“Well, well, well, look who's up,” Satoru announces as the two trudge their way toward the kitchen table where the two of you reside, Shoko immediately plopping down into a seat.

“Not so loud,” the brunette groans.

“So? You two finally kiss and tell?” Suguru raises a brow, moving around to fix a cup of coffee. You catch the way his eyes glance at your marked up neck and he smirks. “Or maybe more than that?”

You puff your cheeks. “Okay know-it-all, we get it, you knew about us all along.”

“To be honest, everyone knew but the two of you,” he says tiredly. “Right, Shoko?”

“Basically,” she confirms in exhaustion. “It sucked watching you two make one mistake after the other because of it.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault (Y/n) decided being in love with me was bad enough to completely kick me out of her life,” Satoru says exaggeratedly and you nudge him.

“Shut up,” you bark, and his eyes gleam as he leans over to wrap you up in his arms and kiss the top of your head.

“That doesn’t bother me anymore though because I know you’re head over heels obsessed with me,” he sings and you roll your eyes, practically suffocated.

“Oh god, this is what we have to deal with now? Fourth wheeling?” Shoko grimaces.

“Maybe it was better when they weren’t talking,” Suguru adds.

“Boo, you guys are just jealous,” Satoru brags. “After all, (Y/n) and I are in love while you two are still single. How sad,” he pouts tauntingly, then turns back to you to land a kiss directly onto your lips. Shoko cringes while Suguru shakes his head humorously.

“Just make sure you guys are quiet whenever you decide to inevitably fuck on every surface in this house,” the dark haired man says.

Satoru cocks a brow, releasing you and standing up straight. “Who says we haven’t already?”

“Alright, enough out of you,” you cut the conversation short, face bursting into flames. “I have to go back into the city this morning anyway so you don’t need to worry about us. Duty calls.”

“Oh yeah, you two are welcome to come with me, but I plan to stay with (Y/n) for the next few days at the AirBnB.”

“You mean you’re leaving us with this big ass house and no car?” Suguru questions and Satoru smiles.

“Yep. You’re welcome!”

Suguru sighs, far too tired and hungover to engage any further with this conversation. “Whatever. I’m going back to bed.”

“Already?! But I haven’t made breakfast yet!”

“I’m too hungover for this and your cooking sucks.”

“No it does not.��

“Yes it does, Satoru, it’s practically inedible. If you’re gonna let anyone cook, let it be (Y/n).”

“Why do I have to do it? I have to go!”

“Geez, Suguru. How much more sexist can you be?”

“What is with you accusing me of being sexist, Shoko?”

“Since you wanted a woman to cook.”

“I asked (Y/n) to cook because she knows how to! You don’t see me asking your ass to make breakfast, do you?”

“Fuck off. Go back to sleep.”

“I was already going to!”

The kitchen fills with overlapping voices as the four of you bicker over absolutely nothing, just like how you used to. You feel your heart warm, surrounded by the people you care about the most and questioning why you ever thought that you would be better off without them.

You look over at Satoru and smile, watching him provoke Suguru with an evil grin. Despite his hastiness to tease and to poke fun, you see now that he does it out of love, and you relish in the abundant memories of Satoru showering his love over you.

By badgering, by clinging, and by crossing the earth to be by your side.

241 notes · View notes

qqueenofhades · 2 years ago

Note

you don’t have to answer if this could cause some discourse, but what’s with all the republicans screaming about the documents biden had? that’s not the same situation, is it?

You tell me:

BIDEN

Is the sitting US President

Had one box of documents dating from his tenure as VP that, during a review by his own staff, were found to be classified

Immediately notified NARA (National Archives and Records Administration) that was the case, within one day

NARA came and retrieved them

The end

This "1,850 boxes!" thing Trump keeps screaming about refers to the UNCLASSIFIED documents that Biden put in his VP library

He does not own, physically possess, or use these documents; NARA does

TRUMP

Explicitly admitted (on tape) that as he was no longer president, it was illegal for him to possess these documents, much less encourage others to look at them, which he then did

Spent months refusing, ducking, ignoring, or obstructing requests by NARA to return the documents he took

Finally, when DOJ issued a subpoena, he also ignored/lied about it

This led to the raid on Mar-a-Lago and the retrieval of the documents, which had been carelessly stored in unsecured locations and shared with God knows who;

Some of these documents are still missing;

The indictment today explicitly spells out that these are extremely high level defense and national security documents, including nuclear, in regard to the US and foreign countries, and that there would be a substantial risk of harm to American interests or individuals if they were disclosed

Trump recruited staff and family in said months-long, ongoing attempted coverup, commiting more crimes (obstruction, etc) in the process

THIRTY ONE COUNTS UNDER THE ESPIONAGE ACT

That.... does not happen by accident. Or even because you took some papers and genuinely forgot to give them back.

Hey anyone remember Mike Pence?

I know, I try not to either

He was also found to have had a classified document at home recently

He returned it and therefore, was not charged

It's so easy to not get charged with 31 counts under the Espionage Act

I cannot emphasize enough how easy it is

Just give the documents back when they ask! Or better yet, don't take them at all! And definitely don't LITERALLY WAVE THEM UNDER PEOPLE'S NOSES AND BOAST ABOUT IT!

Republicans (at least the establishment ones; the crazies are in full-on alternate reality) know this very well

But don't expect to catch any of them saying so

Once again: 31 counts under the Espionage Act

At this rate we will be at 100 separate felonies by the time this summer is over

Or more

I'm not picky

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts

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masterjedilenawrites · 1 month ago

Text

What Happened Last Night

Fives wakes up on New Year's Day with no recollection of the night before. Shenanigans ensue as he goes on a quest to piece together what exactly he and his brothers got up to on New Year's Eve.

Next Part >

Part One - 9:00 AM

Fives x fem!S/O | 3.6k words

Content: drinking, drunkenness, hangovers and related symptoms, memory loss, sexual references, cursing

Note: This is another classic case of starting out with a short one shot and ending up with the first part of a who-knows-how-long series. 🤦‍♀️ I just really liked the idea of Fives and co. getting caught up in a Hangover plot okay.

Fives opened his eyes and was immediately met with sunlight. Gorgeous rays were streaming through tilted blinds into the bedroom, warming up the spots it touched just enough to almost forget it was the dead of winter. But Fives wasn't able to appreciate any of the beauty or warmth of the morning. It was New Year's Day, and he was unfortunately, regrettably, painfully... hungover.

He scrunched his eyes back shut and groaned. His head was throbbing and he felt like he was spinning even though he could also feel a solid mattress beneath him. Gods, he couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten this drunk. In fact, he couldn't really remember anything. He brought a hand up to massage his forehead, as if that might jog some memories loose. Nope. The entire night was a blank.

He had gone to a party. That much he knew. In a stroke of good fate, their shore leave happened to fall during Coruscant's New Year and Rex had been in good enough spirits to allow most of the unit to go out and celebrate. He vaguely remembered getting ready for it. Slicking back his hair, putting on his one nice coat. Blindly, he patted his hands across his chest and only felt the cotton of his T-shirt. He didn't remember taking off his coat. He didn't remember the party. Who was there, what it looked like, how in the hell he got from there to... wait, where was he?

He rolled over a bit, away from that blinding light. The movement made him nauseous so he took a moment to compose himself before cracking open an eye to peek at his surroundings. He was in a bed, in a tangle of white sheets, a large pink duvet bunched up on the floor. The rest of the room was similarly decorated, pink and white. Very soft. Very feminine.

Oh. He made himself sit up, careful to not trigger any dizzy spells, and rubbed at his eyes to better see through the sudden light. No one else was in the room, though there were sounds of a shower turning off through a cracked door just to his left. He hadn't even noticed before. His mind felt like it was in a haze, and the more he tried to recall any of the events that led him here, the fiercer his headache became.

There were worse places to wake up, he tried to comfort himself. He went home with a girl, likely someone he met at the party. Nothing out of the ordinary there. But it was maddening to not remember. Had he really drank that much? He could have said things, done something stupid, made a mess without realizing. He hated the feeling of not knowing.

The bathroom door cracked open. Fives braced himself for the emerging figure, trying to come across as nonchalant when in reality he was on edge, ready to spring into action, and also desperately trying to hold down either a burp or the contents of his stomach. He wasn't sure which would come out if he opened his mouth, and he wasn't about to find out in front of whoever he'd spent the night with.

But it turned out his anxiety was unwarranted, as the person who emerged from the steam of the bathroom was simply one of his brothers, Hardcase.

"Oh good, it's just you." The lump in his throat settled and Fives let out a relieved breath.

Hardcase's bottom half was wrapped in a towel and a toothbrush was sticking out of his mouth. He gave Fives a lazy salute as he padded across the room and started opening drawers.

"Wait..." Fives's hungover brain was just starting to come to its senses. "It's you. What are you doing here?"

Hardcase shoved a drawer shut and pulled open another with a shrug. "Dunno," he mumbled around the toothbrush.

"And where even is here?"

"Dunno."

Fives started scooting himself out of the bed, vaguely aware that his own bottom half was only clothed in briefs. He rubbed at his temple and looked around again at the unfamiliar place. How did he end up in this strange bedroom with Hardcase of all people? Nothing was making sense.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Fives now stood, looking more steady than he felt, and frowned as his brother continued rummaging.

Hardcase held up a finger. He took out the toothbrush, threw his head back and gargled whatever was in his mouth, then swallowed and looked back at Fives with his classic crazed grin. "Massive hangover, man. Can't remember a thing."

Fives could only shake his head and mumble, "that was disgusting." His own head was throbbing, so thinking through Hardcase's words wasn't coming easily.

"Ah!" Hardcase had opened one of the bureau's bottom drawers and seemed to find what he was looking for. A pair of baggy sweatpants. Though they were in a rather feminine cream color and hugged very tightly to Hardcase's thighs. And through the pale fabric in the front... well, it was obvious he was "going commando." Fives sighed.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Hardcase bent back over the drawer and fished out what looked like small black leggings. He held them up in front of Fives and pulled at the waist.

"These might fit if you stretch them a bit."

Fives swatted them out of his hands. "Where are we?" he demanded.

Hardcase remained unfazed. "I told you, I don't know."

"Then whose pants are these? And that toothbrush?"

Hardcase looked at the toothbrush as if he just realized he was holding it. He turned it in his hand a few times, inspecting, and then shrugged. "Dunno."

Fives threw his head back incredulously. "Oh my god, then why are you using it?"

Hardcase was already walking away, clearly bored with the exchange already, despite only making Fives even more confused than he was a mere minute previously. "We're in a lady's house. I can't be having morning breath around a lady."

He shook his head as if it was the most obvious thing. He opened another door, out into what seemed to be the main area of the home. Fives did one last look about, mainly to see if his pants or coat were laying around anywhere, but the only clothing in sight was the pair of leggings left on the floor. Fives glowered at them and then went after Hardcase.

"And where exactly is this lady?" he asked, emerging into the next room. It was somehow brighter than the bedroom. Fives paused in the doorway to adjust, cursing himself the whole time. Never again would he have another drink. Ever.

When it no longer hurt to keep his eyes open, Fives moved deeper into the room. It was a nice, open living area, sort of like a loft. Sofas and chairs were arranged around a rug in the middle. Large windows were along the closest wall, overlooking the city. Fives relaxed just a little. He was still in the city; there was one concern crossed off.

Across the living area, the wood floor raised up a step and into a kitchen with a long island counter. The whole place was very tastefully decorated, and apart from random objects strewn all about the floors, indicating some sort of activities occurred the night before, it was relatively clean and neat. Fives stepped over an empty liquor bottle and a shoe, and intended to join Hardcase in the kitchen before something stirred on one of the couches and caught his attention.

"Is that... Tup?"

His poor brother was sprawled belly down on the couch with an arm and leg dangling off, hair tangled across his face, and a bright red gown draped sideways over his bum, which Fives could only hope wasn't bare. Tup shifted his arm to cushion it under his head and continued to sleep.

Hardcase barked out a laugh as he opened the fridge. "Yeah. Little dude's gonna freak when he wakes."

Fives sighed. "Let me do the talking. Ease him into it. I can't handle panic right now."

He saddled up to the counter, resting bare arms against the cool marble. "You haven't seen her? Whoever lives here?" he tried asking again.

Hardcase emerged from the fridge with a carton of eggs and some orange juice. "No. I woke up and it was just us. Maybe she went to get coffee."

"Maybe we broke in. Who leaves a bunch of strange men alone in their home?"

"Nah. Probably met her at that party. Came back to her place, showed her a good time. Don't know why you came along, though," Hardcase frowned at the thought. "I mean, Tup was obviously all alone and just needed a place to crash. But you couldn't land anybody?"

Fives's face screwed up in offense. "Uh, why is that assumption? Maybe she brought me back and you were the third wheel?"

Hardcase only shot him a look before chugging back the orange juice. Straight out of the carton.

"I was in her bed..." Fives offered more evidence. He wasn't sure why it mattered to him so much.

Hardcase finished the OJ and let out a burp. "I woke up on the floor next to her bra."

There was groaning and rustling from behind. Fives peered over his shoulder and saw Tup starting to sit himself up on the sofa.

"Or hey, maybe it was Tup," Hardcase said with a laugh. "He's snuggling with the girl's dress."

Fives pushed off the counter and went over to his other brother. He sat on the edge of the wooden coffee table as Tup leaned back into the sofa, groggy and surrounded by the tule of the red dress. He didn't seem to notice, blinking blearily through messy strands of hair as he came to.

"Heyyy Tup," Fives cooed softly. "How're you feeling, buddy?"

"What did you do to me?" Tup whispered, his voice all gravely.

"Aw, come on, you had a great time last night. Don't you remember?"

Tup rubbed at one of his eyes. He looked so grumpy. "No. I don't remember anything."

Fives patted his knee. "Ah, you'll come around soon enough. Don't you worry."

A loud clanking came from the kitchen, and then the sounds of sizzling. Fives whipped his head around to glare at Hardcase.

"Making yourself right at home, aren't you?" he barked at him.

"What? I'm hungry! She's taking too long to get back."

"She?" Tup spoke. The commotion seemed to have jarred Tup from his stupor. His previously groggy eyes started to focus, first narrowing in on the sight of a shirtless Hardcase frying eggs, and then darting about the strange room.

"What... Where..."

"Hey, it's okay, don't worry," Fives hastily tried to get Tup's attention back. "You know Hardcase. He's just being an ass."

"I heard that!" Hardcase sang.

Fives pretended not to hear him. "Don't worry about it."

Tup's eyes locked in on Fives's with a scowl. "Why do you keep saying that? What shouldn't I worry about? What's going on?"

Tup scooted himself forward to stand and noticed the dress he was wrapped up in. Confused and maybe a bit horrified, he wrestled with the fabric trying to push it off.

"Hey, hey," Fives got up but Tup's flailing movements made it hard for him to help. Eventually his brother got himself untangled from the thing and he stood in a puddle of the fabric looking like a wild animal. The one bright side was that Fives could now see he did, thankfully, have underwear on.

Tup's panting suddenly quieted. He brought a hand to his mouth. "I'm gonna be sick," he mumbled.

Hardcase pointed to the corner opposite the bedroom door. "There's a bathroom over here!"

Tup made a run for it, impressively hopping over the various clothes, beer bottles, and other items all along the way. Fives recognized his pair of pants among them and happily scooped them up. His coat, however, was still MIA. He could never have nice things, could he.

"Egg?" asked Hardcase when Fives joined him again in the kitchen. He'd fried the entire carton and had already eaten half.

Fives ignored him and walked up to the fridge. A calendar was pinned to one side, though nothing to indicate the owner had any plans scheduled on this New Year's Day. On the other side hung several photos, different groups of girls at various events. Fives studied them for a moment until he picked out the one who was in all of them. Seeing her smiling face gave him an odd sense of déjà vu, but still no real memories.

"That's her!" Hardcase suddenly exclaimed by his ear. The clone tapped his finger by a girl with red curly hair.

"I'm pretty sure it's this one..." Fives tried saying but Hardcase was shaking his head.

"No, I remember the color red. It has to be her."

"You sure you aren't thinking of that red dress over there?"

Hardcase was still shaking his head, his eyes looking elsewhere as he tried in vain to remember more. Fives briefly wondered how it was possible all three of them could have such a hard time recalling the events of the night, and then Tup emerged from the bathroom.

He was looking a little better. Color had returned to his skin and he'd pulled his hair back into a ponytail so his full face was bare. Fives and Hardcase choked at the same time. Just underneath his right eye was a small tattoo in the shape of a teardrop, just like the design on his helmet. The skin around it was still red.

"What?" Tup questioned their reaction.

Fives exchanged a look with Hardcase before answering. "You uh... didn't look at yourself in the mirror in there?"

And just like that the color drained from Tup's face once more. "There was no mirror. Why?"

Fives tried to play it off. "No reason. Don't worry about it."

Tup frantically looked about the room and found a mirror hanging above a shoe rack in the front entryway. He rushed over and yelped.

"No no no no no," he whined over and over, rubbing at the tattoo to try to make it go away.

Hardcase started snickering and Fives elbowed him.

"What? Oh come on, that shit is funny."

Fives looked back over at Tup as he continued to bemoan his reflection in nothing but his underwear. He'd never wanted to get tattoos like the rest of them. One of his old batch mates had painted the teardrop on his helmet as a joke, calling him a crybaby. Now he'd forever carry that symbol, right there on the bag beneath his eye. Fives's lips couldn't help but twitch, and soon he was chuckling too.

"This isn't funny!" Tup moaned back at them. "You two are the worst."

"Don't look at me." Hardcase held his hands up. "I didn't make you do that. I don't think."

"What do you mean you don't think?" Tup finally turned away from the mirror and leveled a hard look at him.

Fives stepped in. "Look, we're having a hard time remembering things, too, okay. It's been a rough morning."

"You don't remember. Oh that's convenient." Tup let out an incredulous huff.

"It's true," nodded Hardcase. "We must've had some night to get this hungover."

"Hungover? Are you sure we weren't drugged? This is insane."

With that, Tup went back to fretting in the mirror. Fives sighed and rubbed his temples. His headache was still there, not as sharp and painful, but nonetheless an annoying backdrop to everything else he had to deal with. He tried not to focus on it, or on the sickly smell of fried eggs that still hung in the air.

He was just starting to think they should clean up the place and then leave, get back to base before Rex could get too angry, when the front door by Tup opened. He froze in surprise at the woman who entered.

"Hi there," she said with a smirk. Tup only stared back in response, his hand still hovering by his tattoo. She motioned toward it. "You're really irritating it. I have some balm you can use to calm it down."

Fives and Hardcase inched forward. It was the girl from the photo, the one Fives had noticed. Seeing her in person, hearing her voice, brought back a few fuzzy memories. A dance floor. Champagne glasses. Laughter ringing out across empty streets.

She made eye contact with him - him, he noted, not Hardcase - and stepped into the living room.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey... you," he replied, trying to give off an easygoing smile.

She was clearly amused by his response, but then her eyes slipped over to Hardcase and she frowned.

"Are those my sweatpants?" Her eyes flicked downward and back up real quick. "And no underwear?"

Hardcase wiggled his eyebrows.

"Ugh. They're yours now."

Fives noticed she had a coat folded across her arms. His coat. Thank the gods it hadn't been lost.

"Is that...?" he pointed to it.

"Oh, yeah, I told you I'd get it cleaned for you."

She gently untucked her arm and held it out for him. He must have shown some of his confusion as she then smirked again. "I knocked your wine onto your sleeve?"

He shook his head, not remembering.

"So you weren't out getting coffee," Hardcase grumbled beside him.

"First cupboard on the left," the girl pointed into the kitchen.

Fives looked down at his coat almost reverently. It was the first time it'd been cleaned since he'd gotten it. It felt soft, like new. He looked back up at her and swallowed the weird lump that had suddenly formed in his throat.

"Thank you..." his voice trailed off, still unable to place her name. She laughed.

"It'll come to you."

"Um, excuse me," Tup shuffled over, awkwardly hugging his arms across his bare chest. When the girl turned to him, he shrunk back a step. Whatever distress he felt over his tattoo was now overridden by bashfulness.

"Have you seen my clothes? I think these are Hardcase's." He kicked at a pile on the floor; the rest of the clothes strewn about were dresses and high heels.

"Maybe check behind the couch over there?"

"So..." Fives took the opportunity to try to get some information. "What exactly happened? I hope we weren't too destructive."

The girl smirked. "Strip poker."

Fives dramatically looked around to indicate the wide extent of the mess.

She shrugged. "There was also dancing somehow? I don't know. Everything ended up everywhere. You all were very drunk."

"All?" Hardcase chimed in as he finally got a pot of coffee to start brewing. "Were there others? A redhead?"

"That was my friend Suzy," the girl nodded.

"Suzy..." Hardcase sighed dreamily.

"You weren't drunk?" Tup asked. He pulled on a shirt and was finally clothed; he felt a lot better, so long as he didn't think about that tattoo.

"Can't drink. Medication. But boy did I have fun watching you guys get after it." She chuckled at the thought. Fives was envious of her memories.

"Where'd the other one of you end up?" she asked, stooping to pick up a few beer bottles. Fives jumped into action and starting picking up some items, too. He inwardly chastised himself for not thinking to help tidy sooner.

"The other one?" asked Tup. He, too, started helping, though tactfully avoiding that red dress.

"Yeah. He had a face tattoo, too. Like a V or an arrow?"

Fives and Tup froze and Hardcase came up with a mug of coffee cupped in his hands.

"Dogma?" they all exclaimed in unison.

"Yeah," said the girl, oblivious to how incredulous they were as she continued to clean. Dogma would've been the last person they'd have guessed to even show up at a party, let alone get mixed up in whatever night they all had.

The girl picked up the pile of Hardcase's clothes and a comlink dropped out of them. Hardcase quickly sat down his coffee to pick it up.

"Kriffing battery's almost dead," he mumbled as he inspected it. A blinking light indicated there was a message waiting. He looked to Fives, unsure if it was worth playing out what little life the battery had.

"Might as well," Fives said.

As soon as Hardcase hit the playback button, the voice of a very irritated Captain Rex rang out into the apartment.

General Skywalker's pushed up our deployment time. I don't know where the hell you boys went off to, but the four of you had better be on this tarmac by takeoff at noon. Oh, and you'd better have my helmet, too, or I'm shipping you back to Kamino where you can serve the rest of your careers cleaning freshers for the shinies.

The message cut out, leaving the three clone men feeling exactly the same: anxious and full of dread.

Hardcase looked sheepishly at the girl, who seemed torn between being amused and worried. "There wouldn't happen to be a helmet around here, would there?"

She shook her head and his shoulders fell.

"Okay, let's not worry," Fives said quickly, even though he knew the word would only annoy Tup. "We have a couple hours. We can find Dogma and Rex's helmet before then."

"How?" Tup sighed. "I can't even remember getting ink stabbed into my face."

"You'll help us, right?" Fives questioned their host hopefully.

She shrugged. "I have the day off, so sure, why not."

"Great. So we have..."

"Faith."

Fives blinked a few times before realizing she'd given him her name. It made him really happy for some reason, to finally know it. She was uncharacteristically beautiful, the kind that didn't grab people's attention but instead revealed itself slowly, the more you got to know her. He smiled softly back at her.

"We have Faith. And we have some time. And Hardcase has his coffee. Let's do this."

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#star wars #the clone wars #fives #hardcase #tup #fives x reader #fives x so #new year #hangover #memory loss #january fics

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al-hekima-madara-blog · 1 month ago

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Did Madara become a Tengu or a Susanoo?

Have you noticed that Madara possess the biggest susanoo even bigger than Sasuke?

The real Susanoo in shinto tradition is related to the God of typhoon and oceans. It's not really how it is portrayed in Naruto. They left the watery element of the mythological Susanoo except the excessive warlike character.

The real inspiration (especially for Madara and Sasuke) is the Tengu an other supernatural creature. In japanese folkore it's associated with the divinity protector of the forest and the mountain, skillful in martial art, swords, naginata. The Tengu is described as a an angry yokai, with a long nose, sometimes a bird-like appearance.

Something unique about Madara's perfect Susanoo is that it goes in two phases before he can settle his chakra.

Phase 1

Phase 2

It's never explained why he does that. There is an aesthetic effort on the first phase but I didn't know if it meant something symbolically. I know that Kishimoto never draw an important character like this by chance. For instance, the two-faced susanoo represents Madara's fear for backstabbing. So I did a little research and I came with this hypothesis:

The phase 1 seems to be a reference to the Yamabushis, an order of warrior monks. They seek enlightenment through rigorous physical and spiritual training in the natural environment, particularly in mountainous regions. Look at how those monks are depicted in their war gears :

They have strong linked to Tengus, some venerate them, other stories said that arrogant priests are turning into Tengu after their death. Or those creatures kidnap priests to turn them into Tengu.

Tengus are known for their supernatural abilities, including shape-shifting, flight, and martial prowess, which align with the mystical aura surrounding Yamabushi.

Whatever the version, I found that Madara's susanoo/Tengu with his two phases, is also a strong metaphor of his unique path as an Uchiha. Similarly to the yamaguchi, Madara is a powerful warrior who went into an ascetic lifestyle, cutting link with his clan, his friend, his village to retire from civilisation in order to gain occult potent powers and ended up transforming into this fearless god of war. The size of his Susanoo manifest the full scale of his destructive anger and arrogance. He seems to have spent more time underground that in the mountain however this is the region that has been Madara's hideout for the obscure 60 years of his life after he lost at the Valley of the End. This place is called the Mountain's graveyard.

So the mythology of a Yamaguchi monk turning into a Tengu can be a metaphor of his path as a rogue shinobi becoming this almost mythical warlord. Living by the sword, belligerent and excited by the battlefield.

A last thing to note about Tengu closer to shinto tradition like the Uchiha, there is also a lot of stories of them opposing Buddhism. trying to corrupt priests, disrupt temples ect... And the Senju have a lot of affinity with Buddhist culture.

#madara #madara uchiha #tengu #susanoo #japanese mythology #japanese folklore #uchiha clan #uchiha madara #naruto #naruto shippuden #uchiha

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boldlyvoid · 2 years ago

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Sweet Nothing

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Summary: Penelope made a friend on the internet over covid who just so happens to live in the same town Dr. Reid just got a new job... and playing Cupid is her favourite thing in the world

Warnings: strangers to lovers, meet cute, 40-year-old virgin Spencer, Virgin reader (late 20's/early 30's), picnics, food mention, lots of Taylor Swift references, first times, Spencer is on anti-depressants, oral sex fem receiving, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, sweet sex, lots of communication

Word Count: 12.6

Making friends on the internet was never easy… it always came with its own set of unique difficulties. People lie, anyone could be secretly crazy and when actions don’t really have consequences on the web, they can get crazier.

That being said, Y/N has recently made a wonderful friend in a woman named Penelope.

Penelope’s Tumblr page was pretty normal, very pink and vibrant and happy, but normal nonetheless. She’s in her early 40s, an internet veteran, an ex-employee at the FBI and known for creating a brand new, very safe, social media platform for young people. She was very easy to trust, very forward and easy to open up to as well, which made the two of them bond instantly.

And despite the age difference and the long distance, Y/N would consider Penelope to be her best friend.

She knew everything about her from her favourite colour to her hope and dreams and favourite singer… and also the fact she was a virgin well into her adult life and dying to get out there. They’ve spent most of their friendship discussing their equally awful dating lives, would-be lovers and almost hookups. Both women have tried time and time again to find love, however, nothing ever seemed to work out… until the day Penelope got an idea.

“I have a friend…” Penelope leads, something sinister in her eyes. “And he’s single and pretty cute, too…”

“Do you have a crush?” Y/N lights up thinking this is a happy moment for Penelope. “Oh my god, Penny tell me all about him!!”

“Well, no, actually… I want to set you up with him,” she explains further, in a much softer tone. “He’s so soft and sweet and a few years younger than me… and still a virgin.”

Her eyes grow impossibly wide and her jaw drops momentarily, “you’re kidding?”

“Nope.”

“Wow,” she takes a moment to soak it all in. She sits back in her chair and lets her shoulders drop as she thinks about it. And for once, Penelope is quiet too. “How much older than me is he?”

“He’s 41… which I know it’s a lot older than you but he’s what you’re looking for and you’d be so perfect for him. He’s so wonderful and he’s waited for so long to find someone who wouldn’t judge him and I know you’d love everything about him if I told you everything but I want you to meet him and find out for yourself… sorry, that was a lot.”

“No, no, that’s okay,” she actually loved when Penelope went on little rants like that. “I just don’t really have the funds to fly to Virginia right now—

“That’s another reason why he’s perfect for you, he’s moving to Reno next week!!!” Penelope can’t help but shake her hands with excitement while her voice raises at least a pitch if not 3.

“Is this the same friend who’s already from Nevada?” Her eyes light right up like a cat staring at a laser… she’s seen photos on Penelope’s personal Facebook, everything from selfies in new glasses to the parties with friends and throwbacks from working at the FBI… “doctor what’s-his-name?”

“Spencer, yeah oh my god? I can’t believe you remember him?” Penelope asks and she just shrugs, “See, this is why you’re perfect for Spencer, he talks a lot like I do, only about much smarter things but you’d be able to keep up.”

“I’d love that, actually,” she swoons, feeling slightly embarrassed about how the possibility of having a boyfriend makes her so giddy. “I’d love to listen to someone talk about what they love and just sit there and look at them…”

“Perfect, I tell you! Perfect!!” Penelope exaggerates, “he’s moving in a few days but all his things are already there. The department paid for his relocation and everything, I’m so surprised he actually decided to go this time, he’s been thinking about it forever.”

“Ask him if he wants some help unpacking when he does get here and I’d love to give him a hand,” she agrees fully, taking a leap of faith and seeing where this could go without the fear of the unknown weighing her down.

—

She shows up at Spencer's apartment 2 days after he arrives in Reno, a bottle of Welcome to the Neighbourhood sparkling cider and an assortment of muffins in her arms, thinking it would be quick and easy for him to take the muffins to work over the next few days, unlike a flower arrangement he didn’t need taking up space in his downsized apartment.

She takes a deep breath before she knocks, her knuckles are barely off the door when he opens it. She barely has a moment to prepare before she’s smacked with the realization that this man is very handsome and incredibly smart… and so, so intimidating.

“Hi,” he smiles at her. “Is that— you didn’t need to bring anything?”

She looks down at the basket she’s holding and then back up to see those beautiful brown eyes, “I know… sorry, um, Hi, welcome to the neighbourhood,” she hands him the basket with the best smile she can muster, slightly embarrassed to be so flustered by the mere sight of him.

“Thank you, come in,” he steps out of the doorway so she could walk in, he steps away from the door completely and sets the basket on a moving box. “Sorry, it’s a mess, the movers just put the boxes wherever they wanted, so I’ve been reorganizing where they were supposed to go,” Spencer explains, gesturing to the room around them.

“It’s okay, that’s why I’m here,” she’s cheery as she shuts the door and starts to take her coat off. “Can I just leave this over here?”

“Yeah, actually—“ he reaches for the closet door, “I found the box with hangers first so you could hang your coat when you got here.”

“She said you were a genius,” Y/N teases, holding her coat up so he could slip the hanger inside and hang it on the bar. She sets her purse down inside the closet too, just for safekeeping.

“I hope she hasn’t talked me up too much,” he’s honest with his fears. “I’m afraid I’m actually quite average, maybe tilted towards the strange side…”

She gives him another smile, but ultimately shakes her head, “Don’t worry, she didn’t tell me anything really personal. I only really know about you from stories she’s told me about her old job, but nothing in detail… I was just starting to get to know her when you were hospitalized before the pandemic and she was by your side a bunch so she wasn’t online and I was actually worried something happened to her 'cause she’s never that quiet.”

“Oh, yeah, that was awful,” he agrees, pressing his lips together awkwardly while he thinks about it. But then he takes a deep breath and his shoulders drop. “So I was thinking we could start in the kitchen? I’ve found most of the boxes.”

“Yeah, lead the way,” she says, following him through the front room to the living room that was connected to the kitchen by means of an archway. “Oh wow,” she muses aloud, “this is going to be nice to decorate…”

“You think?” He looks a mix of worried and confused, “I have no idea what to do with the place.”

“I’m sure once we start taking out all your things we’ll figure something out,” she knows she can make a room out of anything, it's how she decorates her classroom each September. Just with sheer will and pure hope.

“I had to downsize a lot to come here, I donated most of my books so I wouldn’t cost the department a fortune moving them out, but I still have a lot,” he shares, both proud and a little embarrassed that 50% of his boxes are for books. “I don’t have many personal things or decorations… I honestly wasn’t in my last place enough to make it feel homey.”

“You’ll be here often, though, right?” She asks, selfishly, she can already see them becoming somewhat good friends and she wants to be able to see him regularly.

He nods, “Yeah, I’m going to be working with the sex crimes unit, 9 to 5 every day unless there’s a big case,” he explains. “Like human trafficking or a pedophile ring or something, but I doubt I’ll see an overwhelming number of those right now, it’ll be nice to downsize to just a city instead of dealing with the entirety of The United States.”

“I have 4 different groups of teenagers that I teach, which is like 120 kids alone, I can’t imagine being principal and having a thousand kids to watch out for,” she can relate it back. “I’m sure this will be less stressful for you… still awful sometimes but—

“But I’m good with stress,” he assures her. “Especially this kind of stress. You know, when I first started at the BAU I had a co worker who transferred over from sex crimes in New York, she actually had a great time cause she got to kick some creeps ass every now and then.”

“Oh that’s cool, I guess,” she tries not to be jealous, knowing he’s probably had lots of meaningful relationships with women throughout his life, but that’s not going to stop him from getting to know her.

She grabs a box that says mugs and lifts it to the edge of the counter island instead of dwelling on these bubbling feelings for who is essentially, a stranger. “Which cupboard did you want the mugs to go in?”

“Uh,” he gets nervous then. “I have about 3 boxes of mugs… so wherever they fit?”

“Sounds good,” she can’t help but smile, it was cute. “Do you like to collect them or something?”

“Kinda,” he reaches into his pocket and takes out an exacto-knife, handing it to her so she can open the cardboard box. She pushes the knife out of its plastic sheath and starts to cut along the tape seam.

The first mug she pulls out is a pink octopus, “oh, this is so cute?”

“That’s Mildred,” he can’t help but smile, “I got that from Penelope on her last day at work.”

“Oh,” she holds it to her chest in a sweet hug. “I can’t wait for her to come and visit, I just know she gives amazing hugs.”

“Actually, she hugged me before I left and said that I was supposed to pass it along to you at some point…” he looks at her softly, slightly terrified. “Which is strange 'cause she knows I don’t like touching and we’ve never met before but for some reason, she knew I’d still want to hug you upon meeting you…”

She can’t help but laugh, placing the mug down on the counter, “is that an invitation?”

He nods, opening his arms and allowing her to step into his space. She wraps her arms around his middle and holds him close, feeling his large hands on her shoulder and upper back, his thumb lightly caressing the fabric of her shirt.

She stays there in the hug for a moment and then pulls back, “I’ll be sure to tell her that you passed that along.”

“Good,” he’s smiling like an idiot, bright red and flustered, falling head over heels for her already.

At least, the little voice in her head thinks so. Making her smile back at him with the same giddy hopefulness that she’s longed for most of her life.

—

He feels like the most awkward person in the whole fucking world. Hiding away in the living room to unbox something alone and give himself a moment of anxiety without having to play it cool in front of her any longer.

She’s pretty, she’s nice, she smells like honey and happiness and new beginnings… Penelope raved about her for days when she heard he was moving to Reno and now he can see why.

Y/N is amazing… it’s almost too good to be true.

She’s in his kitchen humming while she unpacks box after box of his dishes, moving around his new space like she was always meant to be here too. Like she’s a ghost or an extra piece of the pre-furnished listing. Like it was hers first.

He can’t quite place what song it is that she’s humming, but it’s nice. He wanders over to the archway and leans against it, watching her in admiration as she slides some more mugs to the back of a shelf. He knows he wants to ask her out for real. Not just as friends, not just for help or convenience but because his aura is drawn to hers and the colour they could make together has never been made before.

When she turns around to grab another mug she’s startled by his presence in the doorway, “gosh,” she gasps and places her hand on her chest to get over the initial shock. “What the heck, Spencer?”

“Sorry, it’s just…” he licks his lips and thinks it over before saying it, “It’s so nice to have you here… it feels right.”

“Oh,” she softens, he can see a weight lift off her shoulders and her eyes glimmer under the lights. “Thank you, thats the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me?”

“Would you want to go on a real date, tomorrow?” He can’t help but ask. “I know Penelope was hoping for us to date and I hate that she’s always right but, I would really like to go on a date with you.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” she makes her way around the counter and over to be closer to him. “I’d love that, what do you want to do?”

“Um,” he really didn’t think that far ahead… “can I surprise you?”

“Sure,” she gives him the sweetest, most hopeful smile that makes his heart swell.

“Is there anything you don’t like? Or are allergic to? Anything I should avoid?” He can’t help but ask. The last thing he wants is to surprise her with something that makes her distance herself from him. It’s happened too many times before.

She shakes her head, “not that I can think of?”

“Okay,” he smiles at her, stepping into her space more. “I found my Alexa that Penelope got me years ago, did you want me to put on that song you were humming?”

She looks like a dear in the headlights, she clearly forgot he could hear her when she was humming. “Oh, um… no? I don't think you’d like the song.”

“It sounded nice when you were humming?”

“It’s embarrassing…”

“What is it?”

She sighs and gives in, “Taylor Swift has this song that I listen to when I dream about the life I want and it’s been stuck in my head all day cause I’m in your kitchen… and the lyric is outside they’re pushing and shoving but you’re in the kitchen humming, all that you ever wanted from me was Sweet Nothing…”

“That’s not embarrassing,” his heart swells. “Penelope is a matchmaker, has she ever told you about all the couples she created at the FBI? She’s responsible for 5 marriages and by proxy about 10 babies.”

“Wow,” Y/N’s a bit taken aback by that. “So you’re saying she’s like Cupid?”

He nods, “Or she’s able to see fate's design a lot better than us.”

“One hug? That’s all it took?” She teases him.

“A few mugs?” He teases right back.

“Hey, you can tell a lot about a person by what they hoard,” she bites back, trying not to smile too hard.

He just shakes his head and backs up, headed back to the living room with her in tow. “Hey Alexa, what’s the Taylor Swift song that says you’re in the kitchen humming.”

“That would be Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Midnights By Taylor Swift, released October—“ the British man's voice comes booming from the small speaker only to be cut off.

“Hey Alexa play Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift,” he orders with a smirk plastered to his face.

“Okay, here’s Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Amazon Music.”

Within the first few notes, he knows this is going to be their song. He extends his hand to her, silently asking her to dance even though he doesn’t really know how… and by design or some exquisite happenstance, she takes it.

With one hand in hers, his other hand lands on her hip while her extra hand is placed ever so gently on his shoulder. Chest to chest, eye to eye, they smile and sway along to the flow of the tune. Her hand squeezes around his own slightly tighter, the tune matches exactly how she was humming in his own kitchen and then he hears the lyric she mentioned.

They said the end is coming,

Everyone's up to something,

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings.

Outside, they're push and shoving,

You're in the kitchen humming,

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing.

He spins her around making her laugh as she crashes back into his chest and holds him tighter. She wraps her arm around his middle and rests her chin on his shoulder. The music is loud, but his thoughts are louder. He wants everything this song mentions but with her. Only her. And it’s been only an hour and a bit that he’s known her. He doesn’t even really know her but he craves to.

“Do you write poems?” He asks after the song mentions them.

She shakes her head, “no, but I know you read a lot of them… do you write them too?”

He nods, “Sometimes… maybe I’ll make you one.”

“I’ll probably cry,” she admits.

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors

And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other

And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"

To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

She is soft-hearted. She’s sweet and kind and wonderful, too. She tilts her head to the side to rest against his own. Now cheek to cheek, he lets out a deep breath he didn’t even know he was holding. She hums along to the song, just soft enough for him to hear, not quite on key, but it’s endearing.

They’re quiet for the rest of the song and keep swaying, knowing it’s going to end soon and they’re going to have to pull away. They don’t want to… luckily the song is on a loop. It starts right back up and so they don’t pull away.

—

His place is still a mess when he gets ready to leave the next morning. After their dance, she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus on unpacking and he knew he’d be too tempted to hold her all night long… so she went home. He helped her into her coat, he hugged her goodbye and she left, taking a piece of his heart with her.

He’s not as used to Reno as he was with DC, but one look at the map and he was able to find the grocery store quite easily. He walks there because he opted not to bring his shitty car with him. He sold it with the promise of looking for a new one here in Nevada, but it was actually a lot nicer to walk in a sunny place like this. And on days when it’s not as nice, taxis exist for a reason. He really didn’t need a car, anymore.

He didn’t realize how much he missed Nevada until now.

He spent a lot of last night thinking about what he wanted to do for their date and came up with the splendid idea of a picnic. The first thing he did was call Penelope, it wasn’t too late for her back in DC, so he didn’t feel too bad, but he had to ask her some questions. He wanted everything to be perfect. She talked his ear off and then gave him an extensive list of the things she knows Y/N likes from past conversations, it turns out they’ve spent a bit of time talking about snack foods and it was finally coming in handy.

He comes back to his newly unpacked kitchen with bags of groceries, he prepares sandwiches on croissants and cuts up cheese and puts them on toothpicks with fancy slivers of meat… and he bought some new Tupperware so the meats and cheese can be in one and the fruit he bought can be in another. He bought her favourite drinks and some cute disposable cups to put them in because he didn’t have anything other than coffee mugs, which he was sure she wouldn’t mind, but he did.

He wanted this to be perfect for her.

All while he was packing their picnic basket, he listened to Taylor’s music, thanks to Penelope he had a playlist of her favourites to get himself caught up on them and ended up liking most of them himself. Especially one called Maroon. The lyrics are so powerfully written and wondrously sung, it’s as if a heart-stopping novel was put to music and all told within 3 minutes and 38 seconds. Taylor Swift is a genius, that much her lover got right in sweet nothing. What a mind, indeed.

Just a little past her apartment, there is a little park with a lovely field of flowers beside it. It’s a perfect spot for a picnic, so once he’s finished packing their picnic, he sets off on a walk to her apartment, thinking a walk to the park together would only add to the ambiance of the day.

He makes it to her place a little before 11, like he told her he would, and spends a few seconds in the hallway to catch his breath and fix his hair before he knocks. And when he does knock, it’s 3 times and he hits the wood pretty hard with his knuckles. Inside, it’s pretty quiet and then he hears her call out, “Just a sec!!”

He waits patiently for a minute or two and then she wipes the door open while putting in an earring, “Sorry, I didn’t realize what time it was.”

She’s breathtaking. She’s all dolled up and it’s all for him. He can’t believe it.

“That’s okay,” he manages to breathe out, leaving his mouth hung open as he stares.

She just smirks and reaches out for him, touching his chin and redirecting his jaw closed. “You don’t want to catch flies…”

He blushes, uncontrollably, and bows his head, bashful as ever. “Sorry, you just look beautiful… I’m not used to someone getting all dolled up for me.”

She lets out a huff of breath through her nose, settling all her nerves, her shoulders drop and she stares at him like he’s the only man in the whole world. “You’re so sweet, I almost can’t believe you’re real.”

“That feeling is mutual,” he assures her.

She finally looks down at his hands to see him holding a picnic basket. “Oh my god, are we going to have a picnic?” She lights right up.

He nods, “is that okay?”

“Okay? It’s perfect, Spencer!” She’s so excited and it’s real. She’s not playing it up or anything. She’s genuinely over the moon. “Let me just put on my shoes and grab my purse, you can wait in here.”

“Okay,” he steps inside and closes the door behind himself as she runs off into he bedroom.

It’s a small apartment. Her bedroom and bathroom are separate rooms, but the kitchen, living room and the washer and dryer are all exposed. She has it set up really nicely, it’s warm and inviting and happy and he could see himself making a home on her couch in the upcoming weeks of getting to know her. He couldn’t wait to learn about her favourite shows and movies and books. He wanted to hear all about her family and friends and co-workers, even her favourite students and the ones who irked her. He wanted to hear about it all. He wants to know her favourite colour and how she likes her pizza and her pasta and what her favourite baked good is. There’s an endless amount of personal things that he can learn, and he wants to know it all. He wants to love it all, too.

When she returns, she has her shoes on, her purse over her shoulder and a blanket draped over her forearm. “I don’t want to sit on the grass, and I didn’t think you fit a blanket in there…”

“Oh, shoot,” he looks down at the basket and realizes that was the one thing he forgot. “Yeah, we’re going to need that.”

“Thought so,” she smirks. She walks back over to the door and grabs her keys, “anything else you need?”

“Just you,” he replies without thinking it over.

“Stop being so sweet,” she nudges him, staring up at him like he hung the stars, himself.

“Or else?” He teases. It’s remarkable how easy it is with her. It just flows out of him like the script was already written between them.

She steps even closer into his space, “you get a kiss for every compliment,” she says, standing on her tip-toes, she presses her lips to his cheek for 1, 2, 3 seconds of pure bliss.

She drops back down to her normal height, a smirk plastered to her face, proud of the lipstick stain that’s almost as red as his blushing cheek. She reaches up to wipe it off but he pulls back, “don’t…” he’s adamant. “I want everyone to know you’re mine if you’re going out looking this beautiful beside me.”

“Okay then.”

—

Like a real man, Spencer insists on standing closer to the road as they walk along the sidewalk. A few moments into their walk, he transitions the basket to his right side so that his hand that’s closest to her is free and she notices it right away. She has draped the blanket over her left arm, leaving her right hand free… all but begging him to take it. But he’s shy and quiet and he doesn’t know how to just do it.

So she does.

She takes his hand in hers and interlocks their fingers, smiling up at him as they keep going forward, “have you ever been to this park?”

He shakes his head, “No… is it nice? The reviews online said it’s clean and there isn’t a lot of illegal activity there.”

She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, it’s a nice park. Sometimes I hit up the bookstore down here and then I go read in the park. It’s nice in the summer when I have a week off between my regular job at the school and my summer job.”

“Summer job?”

She nods, “Mhm, you know, 'cause I only work at the high school when school is in session and I don’t make enough to take two whole months off so each summer I take a new job. Like last summer I worked at a daycare but the summer before that I was at a ladies' clothing store a few streets over.”

“What are you going to do this summer?” He asks, intrigued.

“I’m not sure yet… I’m still friends with some of the girls at the daycare so I might go back, but honestly, I’m also thinking of putting in my application for summer school and I might tutor some of the kids that need help graduating,” she explains. “Cause I know how hard it is to try your best and still just not get it. They shouldn’t be punished for having a hard time.”

“You sound like a wonderful teacher, I’m sure they’d really like to have you in the summer, too,” Spencer compliments. “I was always closest to the kids that didn’t do very well in school. It’s not that I pitted them or felt like I could improve them, I just liked who they were as people, more.”

“They’re lovely kids, they just get pushed to the side because they either learn differently or they can’t do the work at home for whatever reason. And they shouldn’t be punished for that, it’s not their fault that most kids nowadays have to work to help their families or become a second parent to help their younger siblings. They barely have the time to take care of themselves let alone do 5 hours of homework a night,” she rants, “I genuinely hate how the school system is currently.”

“My nephew is in high school currently and he isn’t having the best time,” Spencer shares. “He calls me for help on his math homework sometimes and it always floors me that even if he got to the right answer, if he didn’t follow the exact formula that the teacher uses then he gets a 0. There are many different ways to solve an equation, and as long as he shows his work it should count.”

“Exactly!” She raises her voice a little and startles a lady passing them. “It’s frustrating to watch them struggle with shit they’ll never use again unless they’re going into a math-dominated field. It’s not fair.”

“More kids need a teacher like you,” Spencer says, giving her hand a little squeeze.

“Why, thank you,” she gleams. “If we weren’t in the middle of the walkway I’d kiss you again…”

“The books store is just up here, you can kiss me in the aisles… if you really want to?” he kids, but not really. She can tell he wants another kiss from her.

So she drags him into the bookstore, they tell the worker that they’re just looking and perusing the store, calling out the titles they know and rating the backs of the ones that seem interesting until they’re in the back aisle. She turns to him with a smirk, “Are you gonna make me stand on my tip-toes every time, bean sprout?”

He smirks and places the picnic basket down on the floor so his hands are free, “I could just kiss you, instead, you know?”

“You wouldn’t be so bold?” She tempts, secretly hoping he will.

He tentatively reaches out, placing his beautifully soft hand on her cheek and caressing her skin with his thumb before he starts to lean in. She closes her eyes in anticipation, just mere seconds before their lips touch and like the big bang, universes were created in the pitch-black darkness behind her eyelids. Colours she’s never seen before, feelings she’s only read on pages that surround them, and a warmth in her chest that seems so foreign… yet so right.

He goes to pull away and she leans back in, dropping the blanket in the process to kiss him again and again until his tongue slips past her lips and it's more than just a kiss. It’s the start of something beautiful. Something more than Penelope ever thought possible when her two friends ended up in the same town at the same time.

They’re brought out of the moment by the sound of a woman clearing her throat, “You actually have to buy something you can’t just make out back here.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“I’m so sorry!”

The two of them rush out with equally guilty mugs. She grabs the first book she see’s, “We’ll take this.”

“I’ll meet you at the register,” the keeper replies rather snidely and over it as she walks away.

Looking down at the book, it’s a poetry book by an author she’s never heard of before. “You know this one?”

Spencer shakes his head, “surprisingly, no.”

She picks up the blanket again, he grabs the basket and the two of them slowly make their way towards the cash. “Sorry, again,” Y/N says, pressing her lips together awkwardly. “I don’t know where that came from, we really just wanted a book for our picnic.”

“I’ve been in love before, I get it,” she waves it off with a growing smile. “This is a good choice… it’s only 6 dollars as well.”

“I’ve got it,” Spencer steps forward, taking his wallet out of his pocket and handing the woman two 5 dollar bills. “Do you take tips or donations?”

“Always, it keeps the lights on,” she’s happy to take the extra money, exchanging one of the 5’s for 4 1’s and placing them in a jar behind the desk. “Thank you, I hope to see you back here sometime.”

“Definitely, I’d love to have a real look next time,” Spencer teases as Y/N takes the book. He places his hand on her back, “thank you.”

“Have a good rest of your day,” she adds for good measure, following Spencer towards the door.

“You too! And enjoy your picnic!” The lady calls back just before they leave.

“God,” Y/N scolds herself, “I can’t believe that happened.”

“Spencer just laughs, “It’s not that embarrassing… believe me, I’ve walked in on much worse.”

“I can imagine, I mean, Penelope told me about some of your cases,” she says with the roll of her eyes. “I really don’t know how you did it for so long.”

“Honestly, me either,” he agrees with her there. “How much do you know about me? Because she never told me much about you and I’m worried we’re not on even playing grounds…”

“Oh, not much!” She tries to sound as believable as possible. “She basically told me you’re a genius, she loves you like a little brother and some little anecdotes like you were shot in the knee once and were on crutches for months and you wear a lot of purple which I’ve also seen in the Facebook photos she has of you… but nothing super personal.”

“Okay, that’s good then… cause she’s seen me at my worst,” Spencer admits as they make their way toward the park entrance

“She was basically big brother to you guys,” Y/N teases.

Spencer manages to laugh, “Yeah, she was.”

The gates to the park are open, there are children running about cheering with one another while their parents sit on the benches and talk, barely watching on. They pass everyone and head right back to the grassy area behind the playground, past the soccer fields and take cover under a baby Willow tree that still has lots of growing left to do, however, she’s still big enough to cast a good amount of shade on them.

She lays out the blanket perfectly and takes a seat while Spencer gets down on his knees, placing the picnic basket in front of himself. All while they’re still talking about Penelope. He takes out two plastic champagne flutes and hands them to her first, then he sets out the bubbly drink he got, followed by 4 Tupperware containers. “Speaking of which, I called her last night and she told me about your favourite snacks…”

“No way?” She can’t believe it.

He simply nods, a smirk growing, “It would seem you two love food.”

“Well, it’s always late when we call so she’s seen a lot of my nightly snacks,” She admits. “Is that? No way…” She takes one of the containers and opens it up to find little croissant sandwiches. “You want me to fall in love with you? Don’t you?”

He’s startled to hear it and she can’t believe she said it. It was forward and real and incredibly honest. But Spencer nods. Of course, he nods. “Yeah, I do.”

She looks at him like that 'I do' was the big one. The most important one. And to her, it’s almost more important. “Really?”

“I’ve spent most of my life completely alone, I’m tired… and I’m not settling, not at all, no,” he stutters out and worries he’s offended her. “I just mean, I like you, you’re wonderful already and everything I look for in a person and if you loved me I’d be the luckiest man in the world.”

“Wow,” she can’t believe it.

“Sorry—

“No, no,” she reaches out, dropping the container so she could touch his knee instead, “don’t, I’m just shocked, really…”

“Really?”

She nods, “Yeah, not many people have just openly told me that they like me let alone want me to love them?”

“Me either,” Spencer admits. He’s ready to lay his whole heart bare to her. “I really want someone to love me and if that someone was you then I could die happy.”

“Not on my watch,” she manages to smile. “My love means taking care of you. My love includes worrying and obsessing and making you entirely mine… it’s driven people away before we could even start anything real, I don’t want that to happen here.”

“It won’t,” Spencer is quick to reply. “It can’t drive me away, it’s exactly what I want… and I want to love you just the same.”

“You won’t have to try hard,” she teases, smiling up at him. “Come on, get comfortable, grab a sandwich and talk to me. Tell me about yourself and watch it happen.”

“Okay,” he follows her instructions.

He gets comfortable on the blanket, taking off his shoes so he can sit crisscross applesauce and he pours them each a glass of sparkling cider. “I’m sober,” he shares first. “I had some drug problems in my 20’s and I find if I avoid all substances, except coffee, then I won’t slip.”

“Wise man,” she compliments. “I don’t drink either, mostly cause drinking alone is sad and I don’t like how it makes me feel.”

“And I picked this pinky one cause of the line in Paris…” Spencer admits which makes her peak right up. “You know, fake wine makes believe it’s champagne…”

“Oh my god, you listened to Midnights?”

He nods, “I went back to listen to Sweet Nothing and thought why not?”

She can’t help but shake her head and smile, “That’s so cute, you have no idea how cool this is for me. No one I know really likes her, everyone acts too cool for Taylor Swift and then you come in and listen to her on your own accord? That’s— that’s everything to me, Spencer.”

“I think she’s amazing, well, so far, at least,” he admits. “I’ve only listened to the one album but it was a great album, I particularly enjoyed Maroon.”

“Her track 2’s are always my favourite,” Y/N raves. “She saves track 5 for her personal favourites or songs that mean the most to her, like on Red there’s this one called All Too Well and it’s originally 5 minutes but on the new recording of Red it’s 10 minutes and it’s so good. It’s insanely beautiful.”

“I can’t wait to listen to it,” he can’t help but smile. “I love listening to you talk about her, you glow.”

“Here,” she pulls out her phone and headphones from her purse and plugs them in. “We can listen to it now if you want?”

“Okay,” he agrees, taking an earbud and placing it in his ear while she moves closer to share the other.

And for 10 minutes they sit there in silence, she eats her sandwich and he listens to the words with the most admiration. The hurt is palpable, the passion is gut-wrenching… he loves it and she can tell from the look on his face. He’s so focused and enthralled. She feels a warmth in her chest that she hasn’t felt before, something in this moment is what makes her really love him. She isn’t just infatuated, he isn’t just cute and nice… he’s special.

“That was amazing—

“I never want to feel like that,” she whispers, staring at him intently. “don’t break my heart, please.”

“I don’t plan to?”

She lets out a deep breath she didn’t mean to hold, “I’ve never dated anyone before because I can’t go through the heartache. She made it seem so fucking awful I never want to feel it.”

“It’s awful,” he admits, all the hurt he’s experienced comes forth, pooling behind his eyes as tears form. “I was in love only once. She died before I could tell her.”

“Oh, Spencer, I’m so sorry,” she can’t believe it. “When?”

“In 2013.”

“Have you been single for 10 years?”

He nods, “Basically. I tried to date before the pandemic but she wasn’t really my type, it was more convenient so it didn’t last.”

“Oh.”

“This isn’t like that,” he assures. “You’re kind and beautiful and you have a normal job and you make people's lives better… you’ve made Penelope’s life better. You are sunshine—

“Do not call yourself midnight rain I will laugh,” she cuts him off, biting back a smirk.”

“I wasn’t,” he laughs too, “but it works here, too.”

“I’m not always sunny,” she adds, making sure he knows that.

“That’s okay,” he’s fine with it, really. “Even on gloomy days, the sun is just behind the clouds.”

She can’t believe he just said that. It’s so beautiful and kind and about her? It makes her just stare at him, mouth opening to say something but nothing comes out. She doesn’t know what to say. “Oh, man… I’m going to fall in love with you so quickly.”

“Me too,” Spencer smiles, reaching out to hold her hand. He grips it tight and doesn’t break eye contact with her, “and I’m excited about it.”

—

He only lives around the corner from her which means they see each other every day for the next week. They wake up at the same time, they get coffee before work, she drops him off at the police station and then she heads to the high school. After school, she goes and picks up something for dinner and he Ubers right to her apartment to eat. They talk well into the night, they listen to music, they watch documentaries and movies and they cuddle… she knows almost everything about him and he knows almost everything about her. He’s going to meet her family in the summer, hopefully, and she’s going to meet Diana in a few weeks.

Being together is the most fun she’s ever had in her entire life.

And while they’re not going on dates to get to know each other, they are dating and Penelope is happy about it for the most part. She’s just upset she lost her nightly chats with Y/N on Zoom. They barely even text now.

When Penny finally does get Y/N on the phone, however, it’s on a night that Spencer has an intense case in Reno. The BAU are back in town… 3 women have died this week, all online sex workers, they never walked the streets and yet that’s where they’ve ended up. It’s heartbreaking.

“I called him today during his break and he just sounded so defeated, it breaks my heart,” Y/N says with her hand over her chest and pleading eyes, “it’s too bad you’re not working with them again.”

“Their new tech guy is good,” Penelope assures her, “and he’s got JJ and Luke with him so he’s fine… he’s more than fine, he’s Spencer.”

She rolls her eyes playfully, “he is fine…”

“You guys really like each other?” Penelope digs, she wasn’t going to pry and press too many questions but she can’t help herself.

Y/N nods, “Yeah… I think I love him.”

“Really?” Penelope lights right up, “Oh my god?”

“I know! It’s been so nice, we were going to go on another date tonight but, you know, duty calls…”

“How many have you had so far?”

“Uh,” Y/N doesn’t really know. “Well, we unpacked boxes last Saturday and then on Sunday we went to the park and I’ve seen him every day this week…”

“I know,” Penelope pretends to be mad about it but she can’t stay fake mad for long. She loves them both too much. “I’ve missed you.”

“I miss you too, I just like cuddles with my boyfriend more…”

“Boyfriend?”

She nods, “Yeah, I think that’s what we are, I mean, we’ve already talked about what we want and he said he wants to fall in love with me so I think that makes us boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Spencer said that? Shy, nervous, Spencer Reid?” Penelope can’t believe it.

She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, I guess that’s him… I don’t know, he’s a lot less shy with me.”

“Have you—

“No, no, not yet,” she waves her hands in front of the screen and looks panicked. “No. We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“No?”

She shakes her head, “No… I mean, I want to and we’ve had some nice make-out sessions but we haven’t done anything more than kiss.”

“Wow,” Penelope is genuinely shocked. “I thought you would’ve jumped him by now.”

“Hey,” she says with a cheeky smile. “I have self-control… so does he, I guess cause he hasn’t even tried to cop a feel or anything, he’s super reserved.”

“Well yeah he’s spent 40 years being a virgin,” Penelope says without any malice, she’s just stating a fact. “He’s used to things not going there. I think you have to make the move.”

“I was thinking that too,” she doesn’t sound excited about it. “I’m just really scared even though I know I shouldn’t be when it’s Spencer. He’s going to be very sweet and he’s already told me he thinks I’m beautiful and I feel it around him… it’s just so nerve-wracking.”

“I was still a teenager when I had sex the first time and it was so scary, I wish I waited,” she really emphasizes Wish. “I wish I was mature and chose someone good and deserving and I wish he cared about me. But you have all those things right now, it’ll be worth it now.”

“I know,” she tries her hardest to believe her. “I know it’ll be okay… it’s just the anticipation feels more like anxiety.”

“Which is totally normal, but it’ll go away when it happens, believe me.”

“I do.”

—

Spencer's cause goes on another 4 days. She brings him coffee and donuts after work, she meets his friends and ex-collogues and she understands now why he had to get out of it all. Emily is just a few years older than him and fully grey, JJ sneaks out to make phone calls to her family who she doesn’t see as often as she wants and Luke is still single no matter how hard he tries. The job takes things from them.

She gives him a hug before she leaves each time, never a kiss, that would embarrass him in front of his new co-workers and his old ones would never let him live it down. So he gets just a hug. It’s long, they linger and then she goes home.

It’s weird being home without him now that he’s been there often. She misses him dearly, every day. All through the weekend, he works. And then the case ends on a Tuesday at 3 in the morning and stays up just for her. He buys them coffee, he walks to her place and he knocks on her door right at 6:30, 15 minutes after he knows her alarm has gone off.

She opens the door dazed and confused. “What are you doing here?”

“I missed my best friend.”

“Get in here,” she tugs him inside and makes him put the coffees down so she could have a proper welcome.

She cups his face in her hands and kisses him with so much force and passion, it startles him. But he kisses her back. He wraps her up in a big hug, bringing her in closer, he deepens the kiss with the swipe of his tongue and she pushes him back against her door. It’s as fiery as the first time, it’s better than the kiss in the bookstore, there’s so much more feeling in it now.

His hand roams up the flat of her back, over her shoulders and rests on the nape of her neck. His thumb caresses the skin under her ear, causing her to moan into the kiss and pull away, embarrassed. Her eyes go wide and she stutters on her way to find an excuse but Spencer just smiles, still caressing her, he brings his other hand up to cup her cheek, “It’s okay… you’re so cute.”

Her cheeks heat up and she feels bashful as all hell. “Shut up,” is all she can manage to say. “I’m still half asleep, I mean, you should be lucky I already brushed my teeth before you surprised me.”

“Mm,” Spencer hums, running his tongue over his teeth, “that’s why you’re so minty.”

She just pulls away and reaches for her coffee, “And now I can’t drink this until the minty-ness goes away, so thank you.”

“Should I go awa—

“No,” she rushes out. “No, you can stay. I can drive you home on my way to work.”

“Okay,” he can’t help but giggle a bit as he makes his way closer to her, reaching out for her waist. “You like me…”

“Shush!” She swats him away, “I have to get ready, don’t tempt me.”

“Just one more kiss? Come on, isn’t it the deal that I compliment you and you kiss me?” He begs. “You’re so beautiful and smart and lovely—

She steps closer to him and presses her lips right to his only to pull back just as fast. He cups her face in his hands and stops her from moving away too fast and peppers kisses to her lips. “Spence— Spencer!” She giggles while trying to pull away, “Seriously, I have to go to work!!”

“Fine,” Spencer sighs as he lets her go, only to pull her back in for one last kiss. “Okay, now you can go.”

She just laughs as she pulls away and heads back to her room, “Come on, you can sit in my room while I get ready.”

“Really?” He follows even though he doesn’t believe her.

“Why not?” She doesn’t see why it’s a big deal, “I’m just doing my makeup and then I have to pick an outfit and I’ll change in the bathroom?”

“Okay, yeah, sorry I just thought you meant you’d change in front of me and I didn’t think we were there yet?”

“Oh, no,” she agrees. Taking a seat at her little makeup desk, she turns to him. “When do you think we should be ready for something like that?”

“When do you want to?” He questions her right back.

She shrugs, “I don’t know… this Saturday is 2 weeks of us being together so, I mean, most couples start moving further around then?”

“We’re not most couples,” he reminds her.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Spencer hesitates, he looks a little nervous but he sits on the end of her bed anyway. “I’ve never had sex before… I’ve wanted to, I’ve tried.”

“I’ve never even tried,” she’s incredibly honest. “Making out is as far as I’ve gone with anyone.”

“Really?” He almost can’t believe it. “Why?”

She shrugs, “I’m over-emotional and incredibly soft. I can’t do one-night stands and I’ve never trusted anyone enough to experiment before.”

“Oh,” Spencer softens, “you feel safe with me?”

She nods, “Extremely.”

He gets up and wraps his arms around her, resting his cheek against the top of her head. She snuggles into him and holds onto one of his forearms, they both sigh. Completely content with one another.

—

They agreed to try and go further on Friday night. They both have weekends off, so they could spend the whole weekend together if they wanted to.

And when Friday comes, she isn’t nervous. It’s just a Friday.

She placed an order for Chinese food when she got home from work and texted Spencer right after so he could get it on his way over. It was closer to his place and convenient this way and he just liked to get it for them. And while he’s on his way, she takes the time to bring out some comfy blankets to put on the couch for their cuddles later and she lights some candles and turns on her fairy lights. Her whole living room is set in a soft, romantic mood with the hopes that they could do more than just cuddle tonight…

Spencer knocks 3 times to let her know it’s him and then he walks in, “Hey, so they ran out of spring rolls but they gave us egg rolls instead, is that cool?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” she doesn’t care, rushing over to the door she takes the bags from him and puts them on the table by the door instead.

He slips out of his shoes and puts them beside hers, then he takes his bag off and places it beside his shoes, next he takes off his coat and hangs it up. He even locks her front door for her, these are all things he’s used to doing after 2 weeks of visiting. She clears her throat when he takes too long to turn back to her, “excuse me, I’m waiting,” she teases.

“Sorry,” he steps closer to her and places his hand on her cheek as he leans in for his welcome home kiss. It’s a new tradition that she loves so much and clearly he does too as she can feel him smile through the kiss. He kisses her once, twice and a 3rd time just because he can, “there, happy?”

She shakes her head and cups both his cheeks, pulling him in for a longer, more passionate kiss. His hands go to her waist, holding her closer to his body, he wraps her up in a hug as well. She pulls back with an audible “mwah,” and a smile on her own face. “Now I’m happy.”

“You’re so cute,” he compliments. “I missed you so much today.”

“I missed you, handsome,” she compliments right back. “Um, I missed you so much I was wondering if maybe you’d want to stay over tonight?”

“Oh?” He’s only slightly surprised, “yeah, I’d like that… I just need to check my bag, hold on.”

“Okay?” She’s a little confused about why he has to, but she doesn’t ask any questions. She just watches him open up his satchel and search the pockets.

“Oh, good,” he says with relief in his voice as he pulls out a bottle of pills and his toothbrush. “I haven’t told you yet, but I’m on antidepressants… I take them every night before bed.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she says without a second thought. “Do they help?”

He nods, putting them back in his bag until later, “Yeah, I like them.”

“Good, now, come on,” she grabs the bag of food and makes her way over to the kitchen so she can start dishing everything out. “Did you check that they had everything?”

“You bet, after they forgot the red sauce last time I’m never not checking the bag again,” he says as he follows her.

They spend a few minutes in the kitchen as they fill their plates with a variety of food. Spencer opts for a fork while she uses the chopsticks provided in the bag and then they move back to the living room. They put their plates on the coffee table and sit down criss-cross apple sauce together on the floor in front of the couch. The remote is on Spencer's side of the table, and the TV is on and ready for them to pick a show, but instead, Spencer asks how her day went.

“Oh, it was okay with my juniors we worked on SAT prep and then with my 3 freshman classes we worked on their independent study unit and I’m now considered the cool teacher cause I let them listen to their music while they read,” she shares with a smile. “And then for my spare I filled in for Miss Tyndall, the arts teacher, so we watched a David Bowie doc while they all worked on different projects.”

“Sounds like a fun day,” Spencer loves to listen to her talk about it all. “You’d be my favourite teacher too.”

“I know,” she can’t help but smile. “How was your day?”

He shrugs, taking a forkful of fried rice, he covers his mouth with his hand while he talks, “It was okay, no one died so that’s a bonus.”

For the rest of their meal, they share little stories, about their day and things they heard on the news or on TikTok, funny anecdotes and memories from their separate pasts. It’s nice. She could listen to him all day and he felt the same. When their plates are empty, they both lean back against the couch and Spencer turns to stare at her with so much love in his eyes.

“I’m really enjoying my nights with you,” he shares, and in the silence, she feels it. But he says it anyway, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she says and a feeling of relief flows out of her in the form of a sigh. Her shoulders drop, and she looks over at him with a sweet smile, silent as they take in the moment. “I love you so much.”

He places his hand on top of hers, both of them are in too much of a food coma to move closer or kiss or anything. They just hold hands and stare at each other.

“I get it now,” she whispers. “I understand what she’s been singing about all these years… this feeling right here. It’s worth the heartbreak, I think.”

“I can’t tell the future, but I know I never want to leave you,” Spencer replies, voice equally as soft. “I want everything with you.”

Her heart starts to beat out of her chest but she knows she has to ask it. “Would you be my first?”

“Only if you’d be mine?”

She nods, tears bubbling behind her eyes, and she squeezes his hand. “I’d love nothing more… but I’m in a food coma right now.”

Spencer breaks out in a burst of historical laughter first, causing her to laugh just as hard and lean into his shoulder.

“Well, then it’s a good thing we have all weekend,” Spencer finally says, he wraps his arm around her and holds her close.

“Even if we don’t do it tonight, do you want to sleep in my bed with me?”

He nods against her, “Yeah… I’ve been thinking about that a lot actually. It’s really hard to leave here in the middle of the night knowing you’re sleeping alone in there when we were just cuddling right here,” he motions to the couch. “I want to wake up with you next to me every morning.”

The warmth that fills her stomach is a mixture of extreme happiness but also anxiety… it’s almost too good to be true. She pulls away and looks up at him with fearful eyes, “is it normal to fall in love this fast?” The words just tumble out of her.

Spencer shrugs, “I mean… I’ve always heard the saying ‘when you know, you know’ and I’ve read a lot about love at first sight and the way we pick our mates based on familiar facial structures that make us feel safe… and I’ve been in love before and I never met her—

“But I understand why you loved her, she was the only person in your life other than your mother to truly take care of you and listen…” Y/N cuts him off, remembering the night he told her all about Maeve.

“Yeah, and from the first day I met you, you’ve done the same,” Spencer reminds her. “You brought me muffins so that I’d have something to eat before work and you wanted to help me unpack and every day since you have cared for me more than anyone I know. Onto of that you’re beautiful and easy to talk to and you’re not only wonderful to me, but to everyone, you know. It wasn’t hard for me to love you, I’m just surprised you love me.”

“Why?”

“Well, for starters I’m a 42-year-old man who’s spent the last 20 years of my life hunting serial killers and I had a drug problem and I’ve killed people and I was in prison… you know everything and you still love me?” Spencer really can’t believe it.

“Mhm, I love you because despite all that shit that’s happened to you, you still have a sweet smile and a big heart and the best mind I know,” Y/N confirms everything he needed to know. “I love you because you’re you. There’s no other reason.”

He cups her cheek and looks at her with the softest expression known to man, “I’m going to love you forever.”

“Show me?” she whispers, pleading with her eyes to know just how much he loves her.

“Do we just leave our plates here?” He teases, going to stand up.

“I guess we can put them away,” she agrees, she moves to her knees and gathers up her own plate while Spencer does the same with his.

They meet again in the kitchen, placing both plates in her dishwasher, she turns to the leftovers and starts to pack them away while Spencer moves back over to his bag. He grabs his phone and something else while she’s not looking and he opens up Spotify. He doesn’t have many songs saved to his account, just some classical music and the most important song… Sweet Nothing.

She turns to him within milliseconds, “Spence?”

He places his phone on the counter and hands her a little rock, one he picked up on his walk over to see her before work last week. He never had the time to give it to her between all their kissing and her getting ready for work. “Here… it’s only May but I can get you another rock in July.”

She doesn’t want to speak or she’ll cry, but she manages to say: “okay,” as she takes it from him and steps into his space to dance again. In her kitchen this time…

She rests her head on his shoulder, his arms around her waist, they sway to the sound of the music and hold each other close. And then he kisses her shoulder and the side of her neck up to her ear. He cups her face in his hand and stares into her eyes, “bedroom?”

“Bedroom,” she agrees, taking his hand in hers, she leads him back into her room and turns on just the one table lamp she has beside her bed, “should we light candles and stuff?”

“Do you want to?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know, isn’t that what people do when they have special sex?”

“Special sex?”

“You know, first times, birthday sex, anniversary sex… emotional sex,” she redefines what she meant and surprisingly she isn’t embarrassed.

“Candles would be nice, then,” Spencer agrees with a smile. “Do you have condoms? Are you on the pill?”

She smirks, “I bought some condoms on Tuesday after work.”

He watches her open her bedside table and take out the box of condoms and a lighter, she hands him the condoms, “Here.”

“Thanks,” he reads them over, latex-free, real feel, they’d work perfectly.

While he’s reading over the box, she lights a few candles in her room and he takes a seat on the side of her bed, watching her. When she returns to him, she stands between his legs and rests her hands on his shoulders. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely,” Spencer smiles up at her and reaches out to hold her hips. He plays with the hem of her shirt, “how do you want to do this?”

“Can we strip down to our underwear and get into bed and kiss for a bit and see where it goes?”

“Of course, yeah, that sounds good,” Spencer agrees, he pushes up her shirt and she lifts her arms to help. Spencer has to stand up to pull it all the way off and then he looks down at her in her bra. “wow…”

“Thanks,” she smirks, shaking her head as she reaches for his shirt to undo the buttons, “they’re just boobs…”

“Just boobs,” he repeats with a small chuckle. “I’ll have you know everything about you is spectacular.” And with a rush of confidence, he cups both breasts with his hands, he runs his thumbs over where her nipples are hidden under the fabric and she has to bite her lip so she doesn’t moan.

“Do you like that?”

She nods and pushes his shirt off his shoulders until it's discarded on the floor. “Yeah. I don’t think you’ve ever noticed but… your hands… I watch them when you talk and when you’re tracing a page as you read really fast and you use two fingers instead of one and I’ve wanted you to touch me from the moment I saw you.”

“Mmm,” he turns her around and motions for her to get on the bed and she moves quickly, she’s resting her head on the pillows when he’s suddenly hovering over her.

He runs his pointer finger from her chin, down her neck and between the crease of her breasts before cupping them both again and places kisses on her exposed chest. She arches into the contact and his hands follow both her arms until his fingers are interlocked with hers. Holding them over her head as he kisses her neck and shoulder.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, “how’d I get so lucky?”

“We have a great mutual friend, remember?” She teases,

He groans “Don’t mention her when I’m about to go down on you…” he says as he nibbles at her skin and it makes her moan, grinding her hips up against him, she wants him so bad but she still has her pants on. He sits on his knees between her spread legs and undoes the button as she lifts her hips, helping him glide them down her legs and off. He tosses them to the floor and goes right back in, gripping her by the hips he leans down and kisses her stomach… something she never thought any man would do.

He wants her just as bad as she wants him and it’s prevalent in the way his eyes are blown out as he looks up at her, pleading with his eyes, all he says is “Can I?” And she nods. He pulls her underwear down and tosses them off only to lift one and kiss from her ankle and all the way up to her knee and then he dips in closer, smothering her inner thigh with kisses and nips and then he sucks a deep purple mark into her skin, lapping over it with his tongue before blowing on it softly.

“Holy fuck,” she moans as he gets closer to her pussy and all she wants is his hands on her.

Almost like he reads her mind, he moves to the other leg and hurries along until he’s kissing right along where her underwear used to meet her thigh. Then, he spreads her pussy and licks a broad stripe along her cunt. He presses a kiss to her clit next as she bucks her hips into the sensation, “Oh my god, Spence?”

“Shh,” he whispers, looking up at her from between her legs like a man starved. “Just enjoy it, I’ve always wanted to do this.”

She’s so turned on from the teasing alone, and then he adds a finger, he gently circles it around her hole before inserting it slowly, seeing how much give she has before he takes it all. The feeling of his tongue on her is unlike anything she’s ever felt before, he’s soft yet rough and sweet yet disgusting with the noises he’s making. She can’t help reaching out and gripping his hair as her hips lift from the bed again. With only one free hand, he pushes her back down against the bed and she whines. When he adds a second finger, the stretch isn’t too much to handle, he’s so much better with his hands than she figured he’d be as he finger fucks her. His tongue on her clit and freehand trails from her hip up to grip her tit as he grinds against the mattress, he’s so into it she’s worried he might not get to really fuck her.

“Spencer,” she pants, “holy fuck Spence, please, oh my god,” she can barely make it through the sentence when his fingers curl and her legs tremble.

“Cum for me,” he growls against her and her body listens as she jolts forward and she feels the rush flow through her bloodstream.

“Oh!” she cups her breast and arches her back, oblivious to how he watches her while still lapping at her clit.

When it gets to be too much for her, she grips his hair tighter and pulls him off, “fuck me, now… please?”

“Is it an order or a suggestion,” he teases as he kisses back up her body with his glistening and wet lips, “well?”

“Please?” She looks at him with the sweetest, most fucked out expression. “That was amazing, baby.”

“Fuck,” he groans and drags himself off the bed so he can push his pants and boxers off in one fell swoop. Now, only in his mismatched socks, he doesn’t really have the time to take them off as he reaches for the abandoned box of condoms at the foot of her bed.

She watches contently as he hastily rips it open and rolls it on before he gets back on the bed. He gets right back to where he was, between her legs, he places his hands on her knees and soothes them down her inner thighs, “you sure?”

She nods, “I’m ready.”

“Okay,” he says with a deep breath, readying himself in the meantime, he grips himself at the base and pushes the head into her, inch by inch, he watches as her mouth opens in a silent gasp.

“My god…” he coos, “it’s like you were fuckin made for me.”

She’s speechless, reading out for more of him, she’s desperate for his touch. Her hands land on his hips, his skin is so soft and warm and then they’re flush together. He bottoms out and stills, he drops down so that they’re chest to chest and she cups his face instead, “Hi…”

“Hi,” he manages to laugh, holding himself up with one arm, his other hand pushes her hair back off her forehead and stays there. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she says as she pulls him in for a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue, he collapses onto her and wraps his arm around her, angling her hips up as he starts to thrust.

The kiss gets hungrier, and they moan into each other as he picks up the pace, really fucking her just like she asked him to. She has no idea where this side of him came from but she can’t explain how much she likes it, the hand that was once in her hair is now pushed into the pillow, bracing himself as he hovers and fucks her deeply.

She absentmindedly runs her hand along his forearm and takes his hands in hers, interlocking their fingers before he holds it over her head again and fucks into her with vigour. Her legs wrap around him, every trust grinds his pubic bone against her clit and she’s still so sensitive, she’s so incredibly close that all she can do is sloppily kiss him and moan into his mouth.

His hips snap faster and faster as he fucks her and she can’t hold back anymore when she tosses her head back and sucks him in more. “Oh my god,” and “Holy fuck,” is all she can say, making him smirk.

He’s trying his hardest to keep his composure, breathing quickly, it’s the best workout he’s ever had trying to keep the pace and please her right. “I might,” he says between pants, “I might last a while… cause my meds—

“I don’t care,” she uses her free hand to cup his cheek again, “I want to stay here forever, holy shit.”

“Yeah?”

She tosses her head back again, “Oh my god, yeah!”

He just laughs and it’s the sexiest thing she’s ever heard. She’s right there at the edge when he retrieves his hand from behind her back and rubs his thumb over her clit, “you can cum, if you want.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she says, running her hand down his chest and looking between them to see what he’s doing, “I want to finish with you.”

His grip on the hand she’s holding gets tighter, he’s sweaty and losing stamina and nowhere close to being done. “Do you want to switch positions?” She asks, “It’s okay?”

“Can we?” He slows to a stop, “you’re okay with that?”

“Spence, I love you,” she reminds him, “It’s fine, it’s better than fine, actually… I’ve heard all my friends talk about dudes who last 5 seconds, this is more than I ever expected.”

“I’m just anxious, you can see why I take them,” he gets all blushy and bashful as he lets go of her hand, pulls out and sits back up on his knees.

She sits up too, taking her bra off in the process. She tosses it to the floor and his jaw drops when he sees her naked chest, “fuck..” He mumbles under his breath.

“Here, you sit up against the headboard,” she suggests, moving out of the way so he can take her place.

Once he’s settled she straddles his hips and takes his cock in her hand, angling it toward her entering as she sits upon it. Once he’s fully inside she drapes her arms around his shoulders and smiles at him, “We can do it this way… now you’ve got a face full of tits.”

His hands soothe down her bare back down to her hips, he licks his lips as he looks at them and helps her glide her body against his. “My god,” he all but moans, watching her boobs jiggle as she starts to really ride him.

“You’re so deep,” she moans, tossing her head back again to free up her neck, he pulls her in and kisses her from her shoulder up to her ear, lighting sucking at her earlobe, he brings his hand up to cup her cheek and ends up gripping her hair at the nape of her neck and pulling her to the side so he can messily smother her in kisses. “No marks, I have teenagers to teach, ‘member? They’re fucking ruthless.”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, too into it to really care, his other hand reaches down to thumb at her clit, he’s getting close and she wants to finish with him.

He finally does cup her face with the hand that was just in her hair, he caresses her cheek with his thumb, pulling her back in for a kiss that’s all tongue. She moans into his mouth, running her hands down his chest, she uses his as leverage to keep pushing back before grinding down on him, he’s right against her g-spot and so fucking deep she can feel him everywhere, “Spence,” she whines, pulling back from the kiss, “are you close?”

“Uh-huh,” he pulls her back in, kissing her deeper, he wraps both his arms around her back and lifts her up, laying her back against the bed and slams his hips into hers over and over.

Her back arches again and she opens her mouth in a silent moan, it’s so good she can barely breathe. She reaches out for him, gripping his biceps, he attacks her neck again, covering her in sloppy kisses and hot breath. His pelvic bone grinds against her clit, again and again, bringing her right to the edge again until she finally peaks, moaning, she arches her back as her orgasm rushes through her but he doesn’t stop. He fucks her through it, chasing his own high.

“Fuck, I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbles, through his last few thrusts, and then he stills with a groan, filling the condom, he drops down against her.

they’re a ball of limbs, holding each other so close she doesn’t know where she ends and he begins. He buries his face in her neck, still kissing her, she holds him tighter, “I love you so much, too, Spencer.”

taglist:

@reidsbookclub @samuel-de-champagne-problems @superskittles @thedancingcostumeyoungadult @midnightreids @ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129

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