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jinhyun · 2 years ago

Text

—drunk words.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: fluff, slight angst, college au, dance major hyunjin, art major reader, it's complicated kinda relationship

word count: 8.8k (my apologies once again)

summary: there is a saying about drunk words being sober thoughts. tonight, you really wish that applies to hyunjin.

warnings: drinkingggg (alcohol lol), cursing, one mention of throwing up (no one actually throws up), sexual comments as usual, MINORS DNI!!!!

a/n: so... i can't write anything short for shit when it comes to watercolor apparently 💀 but i've been away for a good while so let me just be self indulgent for my return lmao. anywayyy, this is part 46 of watercolor, i hope you guys enjoy and please, please, pleaaaaase let me know your thoughts and come gossip with me about it, i've missed doing that :')

Hyunjin was not happy.

Although his eyes had lightened up at the sight of you the moment he spotted you in between the crowd, it did not take a genius to notice he was not his happiest right then.

And how could he? You had been gone for nearly two hours now with no other than the guy you used to have a friends with benefits dynamics going on with. Granted, Changbin was one of his best friends and he trusted him, but that did not mean he would jump up and down with excitement every time the two of you made plans together, much less if said plans involved the two of you alone, without him.

So, it was fair to say, seeing the two of you arrive together at the bar, although he had seen it coming, did only add fuel to the fire that had been growing inside him that night.

"What took you two so long?" Chan asked, and Hyunjin could only internally thank him for saving him from having to ask you that question himself.

"We just got a bit caught up" Changbin admitted, taking a seat on the empty spot in between Lix and Minho.

"Doing what?" Hyunjin couldn't stop himself from bitterly asking, eyes focused on the drink he was currently swirling in his hand.

"Talking" you answered the obvious, catching his attention as you sat beside him on the booth.

And maybe, just maybe, the way you had leaned slightly in against his body and your arm had wrapped around his bicep, the next second taking it one step further by intertwining your fingers with his very receptive ones, was enough to make him feel at ease.

"So?" your eyes moved back to your friends, not without first having given Hyunjin's hand a reassuring squeeze. "What did we miss?"

"Not much," Minho shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. "Just lots of drinking".

"That's it?" you laughed.

"Yeah, we played truth or dare for a while, so you guys missed out on some pretty spicy stuff" Han filled you in with a playful smirk.

"Oh, and Felix hyung got a girl's number" Jeongin informed with a proud yet teasing smile.

"No way!" you excitedly covered your mouth with your free hand.

"Yah, don't make it sound like an impossible occurrence now" Felix whined, earning laughs from all of you. "She just came up to me and, well…"

"Are you calling her?" Bin moved his eyebrows up and down in a teasing manner.

Felix shrugged, a small smile curving up his mouth as he stared into his cup. "Maybe…"

You and Chaeryeong squealed in excitement, not missing another second to start talking Felix into it and managing to get everyone else involved in the conversation, as everyone seemed to have a say on whether Lix should hit the stranger up or not.

Everyone but Hyunjin, you couldn't help but realise.

While all your friends went on and on about their different points, he remained quiet next to you, only listening to what they all had to say, if even that, since he looked more spaced out than anything — his mouth opening every now and then only to take a sip of his drink, as words seemed to be something he refused to let out of it.

"I'm sorry I took too long with Changbin…" you apologised when you guessed what must've been going through his head, speaking low enough for only Hyunjin to hear.

He shrugged, not finding it in him to look up at you. "You wouldn't answer my texts".

A small sigh escaped your lips. "My phone was in my bag, I wasn't paying attention to it. I should've known you'd try to contact me and keep it next to me, I'm sorry".

Hyunjin nodded, yet as expected said nothing.

Biting on your bottom lip, you reached your hand up to cup his cheek and make him look at you. When he didn't protest and his face was now only a couple of centimeters from yours, you pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose.

"I'm really sorry, Jinnie" you apologised once more, this time looking into his already softening eyes. "I promise nothing happened, we were just talking while having dinner and got a bit too caught up in the conversation. It won't happen again, hm?"

You could tell he was not entirely convinced yet, but the small nod and the weak smile he gave you was enough for you to start smothering him with kisses all over his face.

You managed to get a giggle out of him right as your eager lips had been pressed under his chin and reached down to his neck, being stopped by his hand cupping your cheek and guiding you back up, right onto his lips.

It didn't take you long to react and wrap an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss by simply touching his bottom lip with your tongue — that being all he needed to gently pull at your hair and have you tilt your head back, so he could slide his tongue into your mouth and softly meet yours.

"You guys go get a room" Seungmin's disgusted voice had you two faintly pulling away.

"Leave them, they're cute" Cherry pouted.

He shrugged, nonchalantly bringing his cup up to his lips. "We're cuter".

"Ew, and you have the audacity to tease us?" Hyunjin called him out, smoothly resting his arm around your shoulders and letting his hand fall loosely over your chest.

"At least they're not sucking faces right in front of us" Han joined in.

"Not today, maybe" Lix mumbled, earning a glare from Seungmin.

"In Y/N's defense, she hardly ever makes out with Hyunjin hyung in public" Jeongin took your side.

"Oh no, I've seen them" Minho shut his argument down immediately.

"Can we all just agree that both couples are disgusting?" Chan proposed, getting instant affirmation from everyone but the couples in question.

"You guys are just mad that you don't get smooched every day" Chaeryeong childishly stuck her tongue out.

"Then can Y/N go smooch Hwang somewhere else since they get to do it everyday anyway?" Minho asked with a cynical smile.

"Nope," you mirrored his feigned cheerfulness, leaning into Hyunjin's chest as your hand went up to intertwine with his. "I'm asking for forgiveness here".

"Go ask for your boyfriend's forgiveness in his bedroom then" Changbin taunted.

Hearing everyone laugh, you played off the burning feeling in your cheeks with a roll of eyes. "He's not my boyfriend".

The whole table erupted in laughter once more, as they called you out on not believing shit of what had just came out of your mouth.

Everyone knew you were joking, for the lack of label in your relationship did not make any difference when it came to the way the two of you acted around each other — and that was, like an actual, established couple.

But although everyone laughed, not everyone was amused.

So you knew the moment Hyunjin's hold on your hand loosened up and his body tensed up against yours.

You weren't sure why, but suddenly it felt like you had just managed to beat an obstacle only to stumble with another one.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

A part of you wanted to believe you were overthinking. The part of you that would always overthink everything and come up with scenarios that would only make you anxious wanted to believe you were doing just that now. The sight of Hyunjin right next to you, however, told you otherwise.

You had physically felt his mood drop the moment you said he was not your boyfriend. You had felt his hand loosen up its hold on yours.

He had carried on with the conversation all of you were having like nothing had happened, laughing and joking around just like he would always do, but you could feel him distant from you. And now that some of them were at the bar and some others at the dance floor, leaving the two of you oh-so-conveniently alone at the table, not a word had been spoken.

He was avoiding eye contact. He was avoiding your touch. Playing the lack of them off by drinking and staring into the dance floor like it was the most interesting sight ever.

You were not making all of that up, you were sure.

What you couldn't fully grasp your mind around was the reason for the sudden drop in his mood. You were not lying. In fact, you were sure you two had joked around like that before and everything had been just fine. Or maybe you had been too blind to realise it had bothered him all along.

Whatever it was about your remark that had managed to touch a nerve of his this time around, you needed to find out so you could make it better.

"Are you mad at me?" you asked, leaning closer to him so you could be soft-spoken and still be heard.

"Why would I be mad?" he answered dryly as ever, no eye contact at all.

You felt your heart sink.

"Was it something I said?" you carefully asked once more.

His unamused eyes —finally— fixed on you. "You know what you said".

"I don't get why you're mad about it, though?" you mumbled, unable to find the right words. "We're not official yet…"

"I know that, Y/N," he snapped. "Trust me, I know we're not official, it's not that I'm mad about".

"Then?" you pushed it.

"Why did you have to go and remind Changbin hyung about it?"

Your eyebrows furrowed in genuine confusion. "I wasn't reminding him… if anything, he knows already".

"Yes, but it's just," he sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair out of frustration. "It's the entire situation, Y/N. Like, you went to our place and stayed there with him alone—"

"I went to see you and you weren't there" you corrected him.

"But you decided to stay there with him when I asked you to come here and even offered to go get you. And then you went out to eat with him, wouldn't reply to my texts, got here way later than expected, and then proceeded to tell him I'm not your boyfriend?" he recriminated, and it finally hit you how wrong it had looked in his eyes and how upsetting the whole thing was.

Your heart sunk once more, this time over knowing you had hurt the person you loved the most, even if you had not meant it.

"Hyunjin…"

"Can you try and understand how fucking shitty that felt?"

"I know, and I'm s—"

"Like, how would you feel if I told Yerim you're not my girlfriend right in front of you".

You stayed still, that name alone being enough to feel like a bucket of ice cold water had been poured over you.

"What does she have to do with this?"

"Nothing, it's just an example".

"Why is she the first example to come to mind, then?"

"She just is," he blurted out, growing more frustrated by the second.

"So you still think about her?"

"No! That's not—it's just the closest to your situationship with Changbin".

"There is no 'situationship' between me and Changbin" you made it clear. "We're friends".

"With benefits" he bitterly remarked.

"We were friends with benefits" you corrected. "That ended as soon as you kissed me. We're friends now. Just friends. And he's one of your best friends too, we would never deliberately do anything to hurt you. It's very different to you and Yerim".

"Right, it is very different" he agreed. "Because I never actually got to fuck her".

"And you regret not doing it?" both your words and the venom they held caught him off guard.

"What?"

"The way you said it made it sound like you would've liked to actually get to fuck her" you couldn't help the small crack in your voice and the annoying gloss in your eyes. "Because if that's the case then be my guest".

"No," Hyunjin shook his head accusingly. "No, you don't get to turn this around and get all defensive and jealous, this isn't about her".

"Well, you just made it about her, Hyunjin" you backed slightly away. "And I do get to be jealous of the girl you wanted to get with so bad that you didn't want her to see you with me".

"It was once, Y/N" he pointed out. "I pushed you away once because of her and then I chose you over her every single time".

You remained quiet, staring at the table as you were unable to look him in the eye right then and let him see the tears that you were hardly holding back.

"Baby," he called you, leaning in to try and make you look at him but with no success whatsoever. "I don't regret not getting with her. Anything I ever wanted with her was gone the moment I kissed you, too. I don't want her, I only want you…"

You said nothing.

"Y/N…" he softly called you once more.

You nodded in response, still not looking up at him.

Hyunjin sighed, feeling his chest tighten painfully at the beaten up sight of you. Suddenly, you felt distant, as if you had built an invisible wall in between the two of you and he could not get through it to save his life.

"It was just an example…"

"And you brought your point across. I would feel very shitty if you ever told Yerim I'm not your girlfriend, whether you said it right in front of me or not. Happy?"

"Baby, that's not—"

"I had already realised I was at fault and was about to apologise, though, because I really do hate that I put you through that with Changbin today and I am really, really sorry about it" your eyes went up to meet his, and although they showed how genuine you were being about being sorry, they also showed just how hurt you were, all because of him. "But oh well, thank you for the eye opening scenario, I guess".

"Y/N…"

"Everything okay?" Cherry's careful voice snapped both of you out of it, bringing your eyes up to be met not only with her worried expression, but Seungmin's right next to her.

You were fast to nod, sneakily wiping a tear that was about to fall, which did not go unnoticed by Hyunjin. Not sparing him another glance, you stood up to go to Cherry, snatching your hand away from his grasp the second he tried to hold it and make you stay.

"I'm getting a drink, come with me?" you asked Chaeryeong.

She nodded immediately, helping you out of the booth. "Of course, let's go".

On the other hand, Seungmin stood there, eyes scanning the heartbroken expression on his friend's face as he watched you leave towards the bar.

"Do I wanna know?" he asked.

Hyunjin shook his head no in frustration, leaning his head back against the seat and shutting his eyes close as he tried to contain the tears that had just started forming in them.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

"Okay, you need to stop drinking" Seungmin stated, placing his hand on top of Hyunjin's glass before taking it away.

Hyunjin glared at him, but ultimately said nothing. Instead, he focused on you from afar.

It must've been a little over thirty minutes since you and Chaeryeong had been sitting down by the bar. He could only see your back from where he was sitting, but he felt at ease when he watched you throw your head back and let out what he could tell was a throaty laugh of yours — one of those genuine ones he loved hearing so much, even more when he was the reason for it.

At least your friend had succeeded at making you feel better after your previous argument.

He, on the other hand, had been sulking next to Seungmin for the past half an hour. Drinking his feelings away had seemed to be the way to go, and although Seungmin had initially decided to just let it slide and keep him company during his self-destructive ways, he could tell when enough was enough.

"Why don't you just go talk to her?" he questioned.

Hyunjin shrugged, leaning back against his seat. "I don't think she wants to hear me out right now".

Seungmin sighed. "What even happened for it to get that bad so fast?"

"I brought Yerim up".

Seungmin blinked in disbelief, feeling astounded to say the least. "What could possibly have happened for you to bring her of all people up".

"I'm an idiot," Hyunjin lamented, reaching for the drink Min had previously taken from him and downing it in one go. "That's what happened".

"And all of this because she got here later than she said she would?"

"No, it's not…" a heavy sigh escaped his lips. "It's much more than that. Mainly about her and Changbin hyung".

"They're just friends, Hyunjin".

"Now they are," he nodded, not being able to let go of their past together. "I just hated that they were alone for so long tonight, and that she felt the need to make it clear I'm not her boyfriend to him".

"So that's what this is about," Seungmin sighed, finally understanding the core of your argument. "You do realise she was just joking, right? Like, we all laughed because it was just that obvious".

"Was it?"

"Come on, man" he nudged him. "Even if you guys are not official, you two are exclusive. Do labels really matter when you both know you're together and serious about each other?"

Hyunjin stayed silent for a moment, trying to process his friend's words.

"We never established we're exclusive…"

"It's Y/N we're talking about" Seungmin reminded him. "She was faithful as hell to you even before you even made a move on her, why would it be any different now that you actually are head over heels for her? And you haven't even looked at someone else all this time, so…" he shrugged. "Some things are just unspoken, it doesn't mean they aren't there".

"I just… got insecure".

"More like jealous" Seungmin mumbled.

Hyunjin smiled weakly. "Insecure, genuinely. Sure, I tend to always get jealous, and I admit there was a bit of jealousy in there, too, but… I just got so fucking insecure when she corrected him, because yeah, she was faithful to me before and whatnot but Changbin hyung was the one exemption to it, and at the end of the day she's the one who gets to make the call and she can realise she'd rather be with someone else and choose Bin hyung over me any time".

"What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly that" he shrugged. "I'm in this kind of trial, trying to prove to her that I'm serious about my feelings for her, and I… if it were up to me we would already be official as hell, but she's the one who gets to decide that, and until then I'm just… hand tied".

"I don't think you are, though?" Seungmin's words got Hyunjin tilting his head in confusion. "I mean… you guys are an actual couple by now, you're pretty much only missing the labels, and I'm sure Y/N would say yes in a heartbeat if you asked her to be your girlfriend".

Hyunjin sighed, nervously biting his lip as he looked in your direction once again.

Maybe you would've before. After your argument, however, he was not so sure anymore.

He just kept fucking up over and over when it came to you, and he was scared all the progress the two of you had made so far, all the proof he had given you when it came to showing you he was serious about you this time, would come crashing down just because of this one slip up of his.

He should've kept quiet. Fuck, he should've shut his mouth the moment you had open yours to apologise. Everything would be so much different now if he learned to just not say the first thing that comes to mind without thinking about it first.

Then again, he had never been good at expressing himself, that you knew very well. Especially when it came to this kind of moments when he felt put on the spot.

He wished he could just turn back time and shut his fucking mouth.

Seeing Seungmin take the bottle of soju away from the corner of his eye, he gave up on both talking and drinking altogether, folding his arms over the table and resting his head on them, as he could feel all the alcohol he had drunk finally begin to hit.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

Hyunjin didn't know how long it had been. Maybe twenty minutes, maybe ten. Maybe an hour, or even five minutes? All he knew was that he had passed out for a bit.

He didn't even know if his friends were around anymore or if Seungmin was still by his side, as he could not hear anyone near him. Well, anyone he knew, for the various unknown voices chatting —if not yelling— over the loud music around the bar were already invading his ears from all over.

Stretching out over the table after a good minute and almost knocking down a glass of soju, he finally sat back up. Much to his surprise, nearly all your friends were back at the table. Everyone but Cherry, as she kept chatting with you by the bar.

"Good morning there" Chan greeted with a teasing smile, having the rest join in in a second.

God, he knew he would never hear the end of it now.

"Good morning," he joined them, cynically. "How long was I out for?"

"Like fifteen minutes?" Han answered. "I don't know, I just got here like five minutes ago but I saw you sleeping from the dance floor".

"Yeah, fifteen minutes is a good guess," Minho laughed under his breath. He was probably the one enjoying this the most. "Right, Seungmin?"

All eyes on Min, they were met with his rather distraught expression staring intently at the bar.

"Seungmin?" Minho pushed it.

"Huh?" he snapped out of it.

"How long was Hwang out for? You were with him the entire time".

"Like two bottles" he answered incoherently as his eyes travelled back to the bar.

Chan snorted. "That's not what we were asking but holy fuck, Hyunjin".

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, later focusing them on Seungmin by his side. "You okay, man?"

"Yeah, I just…" his eyes squinted. "Who are…"

As if on cue, everyone followed his stare. And suddenly, Hyunjin knew exactly why his friend felt so distraught.

You and Cherry seemed to have company, and not precisely the kind of it he was okay with. Two guys around your age he had never seen before in his life, who were getting way too close to you, were most definitely not the kind of company he ever wanted for you. Especially not the one dude who was coming awfully near your ear to try and properly speak to you.

"Aw, just like the old days" Minho pretended to wipe a nostalgic tear, earning himself a snort from Han and a small shove from Jeongin next to him.

"Hell no" Seungmin mumbled under his breath, not letting another second go by before rushing towards Chaeryeong.

That was what Hyunjin wanted. To be able to just go up there, grab you and make sure that any other guy knew you were his. For every single person in the world to know you were with him.

Instead, he sat there — watching from afar how Seungmin reached Cherry's side and pulled her to him, glaring at the stranger that had tried to hit on her and telling him something Hyunjin could not quite decipher yet could perfectly guess what it was. Something along the lines of 'she's taken', of course.

Exactly what he wanted to be able to do with you.

He could've sworn Seungmin had told the guy who was trying to hit on you off, too, and although it was not quite enough to make him feel at ease, he did feel thankful to his friend.

Boyfriend or not, there was only so much he could take, however. So, when the very same guy who had invaded your personal space did not seem to care about Seungmin's words nor about your polite rejection —as he could tell by the way you had taken a step back from him and awkwardly motioned with your hands for him to take a hint—, Hyunjin found himself standing up from his spot and sprinting towards you.

"What's going on here?" he asked, towering over you the moment he reached your side.

"Um, n-nothing," your words sounded just as nervous as you looked, eyeing Hyunjin up before you focused on the stranger in front. "This is—"

"I really don't care who he is" Hyunjin shut you down, eyes glaring at the guy. "Back off".

"Now why would I do that?" the man —whose name you had learned to be Junghee a minute ago when he tried to buy you a drink—, replied rather smugly.

"Hyunjin…" you grabbed his hand, stopping him right as you felt him move forward.

"She's clearly not interested, leave her alone".

"Why don't you let her speak for herself then?"

Hyunjin turned around to look at you, silently demanding for an answer, yet simultaneously begging you with his eyes alone not to challenge him this time around — not to do anything that would hurt him any further.

He should know better by now, though. Because although you looked taken aback and anxious even, your eyes were on him. Only him. Not once during all those seconds the two of them had been expecting an answer from you had you merely even glanced anywhere but him.

And that was enough to let him know what you wanted, if not who you wanted.

"She's taken," Hyunjin spat after having turned back around. "Back off".

"That's what that other dude said, but—"

"Dude, I'm her boyfriend. Now go".

Raising both arms in defeat, not without first eyeing you up and down in a way that could easily have earned a punch from Hyunjin, he backed away for once and for all.

Hyunjin shook his head in both disbelief and annoyance, making sure the dickhead actually left before turning around to lock eyes with your cold ones.

"You're not my boyf—" you fell quiet the moment he cornered you against the bar and firmly placed his hand on your nape.

"To some random dude who's trying to make a move on you, yes I am".

You didn't have time to protest, for his mouth on yours had prevented you from doing so before you even had the chance.

Not like you wanted to protest to begin with, as his lips trapping your bottom one in them and sucking on it the way you loved it was all you had needed that night after your fight.

For him to reassure you once again that he was serious about you was everything you needed and more.

You grabbed him by the collar at the same time you wrapped one arm around his neck, feeling like you would die if you didn't have him the closest you could right then. Thankfully, Hyunjin seemed to get the memo, bringing his hands dangerously down to the lowest of your back so he could pull you to him and get rid of every possible centimeter that was left between your bodies.

Somehow backing you up harder against the bar and making sure your bodies wouldn't lose the closeness he had put in between them, he brought a hand up to cup your cheek, smiling into the kiss after you had massaged his tongue with yours.

"You don't get to let other guys hit on you just because of a stupid argument we had" he mumbled against your lips, getting a soft hum out of you when he pulled at your bottom one.

"I wasn't…" you whispered.

"No?" he pulled away for a second. "Is that why you were about to introduce me to him like it was nothing?"

Your cheeks burned in embarrassment. "I panicked, I didn't know what to say".

"Mhm… that better be it" he trapped your lip in his once more. "Because you're mine".

"I'm n—"

"Shhh…" he hushed you with a kiss, making you smile against his mouth. "You are".

"You're an idiot," you chuckled, endearingly looking up at him and gently cupping his cheek. "And you're drunk".

"M—not," he whined, more cutely to your ears than he had intended.

"You sure?" you teased, holding his face now with both hands as he rested his forehead on yours. "You do taste quite drunk to me".

He laughed under his breath, pressing a kiss to your cheek before he leaned down to rest his forehead on your shoulder — arms wrapping tightly around you as he tiredly nuzzled the crook of your neck.

"I may or may not have drunk my feelings away" he admitted.

"And the alcohol is finally starting to hit?"

He nodded, a quite heavy sigh of his tickling your neck.

"You wanna leave?" you asked, gently running a hand up and down his back.

Another silent nod was his answer. "Yeah, just wanna be with you right now…"

You smiled blissfully, planting a small kiss on his temple before your hand held his. "Okay then, let's go tell the rest we're dipping".

One look at your table was all it took for you to realise the two of you had been the main attraction back there. You didn't even notice the moment Chae and Seungmin had left your side and gone back to sit down with the rest, yet there they were, shamelessly gossipping together as they watched you walk towards the table.

The closer you got, the clearer you saw their teasing smiles — and the more you wanted to just turn around and get out of there with Hyunjin already.

"Glad to see you guys are on good terms again" Han teased as soon as you reached the table, motioning with his head towards your intertwined fingers.

"Didn't really appreciate the sight of you two exchanging saliva again, though" Minho pointed out.

"No one told you to look" Hyunjin shrugged.

Minho scoffed. "You were all up in our business, how could we not?"

"As if you weren't shoving your tongue down that one girl's throat minutes ago" you bit back, getting nothing but a proud smirk from him. "Anyway, we're leaving now, so…"

"Are you guys going to Hyunjin's dorm?" Jeongin asked.

"Mhm…" you nodded.

"You're staying there?" Cherry wondered.

You shook your head no. "I'm just d—"

"You're not?" Hyunjin asked in a pout.

You laughed under your breath. "I mean…"

"You guys can always figure that out later, but can I leave with you?" Innie drew your attention. "I'm tired and my dorm is on the way, we could split a taxi".

"That sounds great" you agreed. "Let's go then".

"If that's the case, I'm going with you guys, too" Changbin stood up as well, walking up to you right as Jeongin did.

"Why?" Hyunjin's eyebrows furrowed.

"Because you will probably pass out in the car and there is no way Y/N will be able to drag your drunk ass all the way up to our floor alone".

Hyunjin shrugged, pulling you closer to him by the waist. "Whatever, but Jeongin is sitting with us in the backseat".

Rolling his eyes in amusement, Changbin agreed to his friend's conditions. Maybe you had already been forgiven, but he was clearly not on the clear just yet for having kept you from him earlier that night.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

The ride home had been easier than you had initially thought, mainly because Hyunjin passed out on your shoulder the second you got in the taxi, and just like that he was no longer able to glare at Changbin like he had done right before getting in the car, even though his wishes of having Jeongin join the two of you on the backseat had been complied with.

He had also been able to walk up the stairs just fine — a bit slow, but just fine. Although he did trip once when there was only one floor left to theirs, and if it weren't for Changbin, who was walking behind the two of you just to make sure, then probably the story would've been very different.

All in all, it had not been that bad. Hyunjin wasn't wasted, to be fair, but all the alcohol he had drunk during that one moment of sulkiness had hit the hardest in the span of his confrontation with the pushy guy at the bar and the ride home.

By the time the three of you reached his room, he didn't think twice before letting go of your grasp around his waist and slumping down face first on his bed — a muffled whine reaching your ears and earning a smile from you that had Changbin shaking his head in disbelief over how head over heels you were for his friend.

"Well, seems like my job here is done, so…"

Reluctantly taking your eyes away from your passed out beloved on his bed, you turned around to look at Bin. "Thanks for coming with us," you smiled. "The trip up the stairs could've been hell if you weren't here".

He chuckled, taking a step towards you. "Yeah, to be honest he wasn't that bad tonight. There have been times when Seungmin and I have feared for our lives trying to drag him up those stairs".

You rolled your eyes in amusement. "I've heard the same kind of stories but with you being the one that has to be dragged upstairs".

"Now who was the snitch" he playfully squared up.

"You guys literally all snitch on each other" you laughed.

Hyunjin unconsciously tossed in bed, making both your heads snap in his direction, and as if on cue, both your stares turned softer — the mood suddenly dropping.

"He was really upset tonight…" Changbin was the first one to bring the topic up.

"Yeah…" you mumbled, intently staring at Hyunjin sleeping. "Maybe we shouldn't…"

"Hang out alone anymore?" he finished with an obvious tone.

You nodded, slowly. "At least until things are more clear between us and he feels okay with it".

"You mean until you guys put a label to what very clearly already is an official relationship" he smirked.

"Stop…" you lowered your head to try and hide the shy smile that had just curved up your lips. "Things are still a bit messy between us… and I hated knowing that I hurt him today and I would hate to hurt him again" a small sigh abandoned your mouth as you looked up to him. "I really love him, Binnie".

"I know you do," he smiled, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Let's just hang out while the others are around from now on".

"Yeah, let's do that" you agreed with a smile.

"Does this count as hanging out alone when Hyunjin is passed out in front of us?"

You couldn't help a throaty laugh from escaping your mouth, finding yourself having to cover it with one hand not to risk waking Hyunjin up, which seemed to be highly unlikely yet never impossible.

"You're staying the night?" he changed the topic, still not being able to erase the smile that had formed on his face over your laughter.

You shook your head no. "I'm just staying with him for a bit".

He snorted. "That's just calling to fall asleep on the floor next to him".

"I just want to make sure he stays sleeping on his side in case he throws up".

"Ew, I knew you were in love as hell but not to the point of being willing to clean his puke up".

"Shut up," you squinted your eyes at him, causing him to hold both hands up as he backed towards the door.

"Okay, I'll leave you to it now. I believe his pyjamas are in the second drawer," he motioned. "Although I guess he could sleep in his underwear alone, I don't know".

"What?"

"You're changing him, aren't you?" Changbin raised a questioning eyebrow.

"No, you change him".

He scoffed. "You're the one dating him, that's your problem now".

"But you're a boy..."

"What are we, twelve?" he laughed. "Don't act like you've never seen him naked before".

"Okay first, you don't know that" you pointed an accusing finger at him. "And second, he's drunk".

"So?"

"I don't want to overstep…"

"Trust me, he won't be mad that you changed him to sleep" he smirked.

"Changbinnnn," you begged in a whine.

"Ugh, okay" he gave in, realising there was no changing your mind. "Just go wait outside. And when he gets mad at me for changing his clothes, I'm throwing you under the bus".

"I'll take the risk" you laughed.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

Pulling down the white oversized t-shirt of Hyunjin's that Changbin had given you after having successfully convinced you to spend the night before he could leave to his room for once and for all, you couldn't help but feel all giddy. You hadn't worn them many times, maybe one or two, but still, you could never grow used to wearing Hyunjin's clothes. And a part of you couldn't help but not feel like ever giving it back.

The way it had his particular scent you loved so much all over, the way it was long enough to cover just a little under your thighs, the way it felt almost like being in his arms, the way it was his.

Snapping out of it when you heard a heavy sigh coming from the bed, you were met with the cutest sight of Hyunjin tucked into it. Changbin had gone through the trouble, since he knew for a fact you would have a hard time trying to tuck him in if not.

The sheets were pulled up to his chin, in a way you could only see his uncovered face as he laid on his back and how the covers moved slowly up and down with each breath he took.

His eyes remained closed and his breathing calm. You couldn't help but feel bad for the hangover you knew he was waking up with the next morning, although that itself wasn't enough to erase the smile from off your face as you stared at him.

It was ridiculous how soft you were for him, not to say weak. You were so mad earlier that night, so hurt that he had brought up the one girl you were insecure about when it came to his past, that you thought the two of you would go your different ways that night and take a couple of days to make up.

But then there he was, telling a random guy who was trying to hit on you to back off and calling himself your boyfriend, kissing you like you were the only people in the bar, and that was all it took for you to feel at ease again — for you to know you would be alright regardless of the pending conversation you still needed to have.

Physically shaking your head as you were unable to mentally shake off his voice repeating the word 'boyfriend' over and over, causing your heart to soar with every memory of it, you went up to his drawer by the bed.

You took out the face wipes you knew he kept in there and went to the mirror next to it so you could take off your makeup. This wasn't your ideal night routine, but it would have to do for tonight.

"Mm…" Hyunjin's tired voice had your head snapping in his direction, only to be met with his visibly heavy eyes staring at you. "Sexy".

You snorted, feeling your face burn yet refusing to show how flustered you were over his sudden comment. Instead, you shook your head in amusement and threw the wipe into the small trash bin under his desk before you took a clean one out of the package.

"You're awake" you pointed out the obvious, sitting down by the edge of the bed.

"Yeah…" he sighed, eyes unconsciously closing for a moment there. "You looked too good for me not to wake up".

"That makes absolutely no sense" you laughed, leaning in to pull the covers slightly down to his chest.

"Yes, it does" he fought back, grimacing when the cold wipe came in contact with his face yet not protesting as you gently cleaned him up. "You should wear my clothes more often".

"I will take you up on that offer" you smiled, pressing a brief kiss to his forehead before going to throw the used wipe in the bin, too. "I'm borrowing a pair of sweatpants to sleep in".

"Noo, come here," he protested, stretching his arms out of the covers for you to go over there. "I meant you should wear my t-shirts with nothing else more often".

"Oh? You like the sight, Hwang Hyunjin?"

"You know I do" his eyes squinted accusingly.

"And what if I wanna go to the bathroom or the kitchen?" you taunted, folding your arms over your chest.

"If the guys are here then you put a pair of sweatpants on before leaving my room" his dead serious semblance got you grinning. "If we're alone, then it doesn't matter".

"Gatekeeping, I see" you came closer to the bed, enough for him to reach his hand out and grab your wrist.

"Of course," he proudly stated, pulling you down onto the bed with him — his hand resting against your back to pull you closer, later travelling down to the back of your thigh and guiding it over his waistline. "Only I get to see your pretty thighs like this".

This time, you could not hide the prominent heat in your cheeks, having to look down for a second to try and collect yourself, only to be met with his fingers holding your chin up and his lips pressing softly on yours.

Although it had begun tenderly, almost innocently, it was only a matter of seconds before Hyunjin's tongue was opening its way into your mouth, sending shivers down your spine as your hand went to his nape and your fingers were entangled in his brown locks.

It wasn't until his fingertips traced their way up from your thigh to your hip and his hand dug inside the t-shirt of his you were wearing, reaching dangerously close to the curve of your breasts, that you pulled away.

"So you're a horny drunk…" you smirked, almost as if having found his weakness. "Should've seen it coming".

"I always wanna touch you" he pouted.

"Something tells me it's different this time" you let out a breathy laugh, holding his wrist and gently removing it from underneath your top. "So I'm stopping you before we get too caught up".

"But I need you…" he whined, burying his face in your chest.

"You're literally half asleep, what would you be able to do anyway?"

"Don't underestimate me, baby girl".

You felt him smile against your chest in response to the small laugh that had just escaped your throat at his threatening words.

Considering your little banter to be done with after his last statement, Hyunjin's arms snaked around your waist and pulled you somewhat closer to him — as close as the covers in between the two of you allowed him to.

"You okay?" you whispered when you felt him take a heavy breath, tenderly running your fingers through his hair.

"Everything's spinning" he managed to let out as he exhaled.

You chuckled, pressing your lips down on the crown of his head. "That's what happens when you down two bottles of soju in half an hour".

He pouted. "I was… feeling very shitty…"

Your heart hurt at his words, and you were met with his heavy-looking chocolate eyes after he had pulled slightly away from your chest.

Silence filled the room for a minute, words somehow not being needed as you quietly looked at each other.

Wetting his lips, he reached a hand up to cup your cheek, drawing small circles on it with his thumb and smiling when your hand reached up to do the same with his wrist.

"I'm sorry about what I said," he apologised. "I shouldn't have brought Y—"

"I really don't wanna talk about her anymore" you softly cut him off.

He nodded, tenderly grabbing your hand in his and caressing the back of it with his thumb. "I'm really sorry, baby… I never wanted to hurt you".

"Hey, it's okay" you hushed him. "I never wanted to hurt you either. I'm sorry too, Jinnie".

He smiled, tiredly yet ever so blissfully — eyes closing once again right as he brought your hand up to his mouth and pressed a sweet kiss to it.

"I only want you. All to myself. No one else".

"You don't want me with anyone else or you don't want anyone else but me?" you couldn't help but tease.

"Both," his confident tone got a giggle out of you. "But you're the one who gets to decide whether you want to be with me for real now and I just keep fucking up an—"

"Baby…" you called him softly as ever, lovingly running your thumb over his bottom lip and managing to make him open his eyes once more. "You haven't even fucked up".

"I just did tonight, though…"

"Not in a way that will stop me from wanting to be with you" you reassured him with a smile.

"You promise?" he whispered.

You nodded, answering his question by briefly pressing your lips against his. "Remember what I told you the morning after we got together?"

"You told me many things that morning" he smirked, causing you to roll your eyes in amusement.

"About not feeling like you have to watch your every move around me" you reminded him. "I said that as long as y—"

"I don't go to someone else or start feeling trapped again we would be alright…" he completed for you.

"And you haven't done any of those, have you?"

"No, of course not" he sounded almost offended by that question. "If anything you might start feeling trapped with how clingy I got".

A throaty laugh escaped your mouth at that, snuggling closer to him and feeling your heart melt when his hand was naturally placed on the curve of your waist.

Fuck, you loved him.

"What are you saying, I love clingy" you admitted. "And since you haven't done any of those two things I don't really consider that you've fucked up… couples argue here and there, it's okay".

"Are you saying we're a couple now?" he smiled.

You bit your bottom lip, looking away from his eyes as you were at a loss of words and felt your face burn under his stare.

"Go to sleep, Jinnie".

"You haven't answered my question".

"You're drunk" you pointed out. "We'll talk about this some other time".

Hyunjin pouted, but ultimately decided to let it go. "You're staying the night?"

You nodded. "How else am I supposed to take care of your drunken ass tonight?"

"That is very girlfriend of you" he smirked.

You couldn't help the giggle that had just ran past your lips, just like you couldn't help the backflip your heart had just done. "You're going to regret this so much in the morning".

"I won't" he stood his ground.

"We'll see about that tomorrow" you chuckled. "Now go to sleep".

"At least get in here with me," he tugged at the covers for you to get inside. "You're practically naked, don't want my baby to catch a cold".

"Shut up," you laughed under your breath, embarrassed, yet complied with his wishes.

Helping him pull the sheets up, you got inside them with him, who wasted no time to tuck you in with him and tightly engulf you in his arms.

You sighed contentedly when your face rested on his chest, throwing a leg over his waist.

"Better?" he asked.

"Mhm…" your body snuggled closer to him. "This was very boyfriend of you" you couldn't help but tease.

Feeling him smile against the crown of your head, you were greatly surprised by his long fingers pushing your chin up to be met with his plump lips.

"That's what you should've told that one idiot that was hitting on you".

"And who says I didn't?"

He pulled back from your mouth, staring at you with wide eyes as he tried to process the words that had just come out of it. "Y-You did?"

You nodded, quite amusedly.

"You told him I was your boyfriend?"

"Well, I told him I had a boyfriend. He didn't know who you were, so…" you laughed at his cute expression right then.

"And even then he still wouldn't back off?" he scoffed. "God, I should've punched him".

An amused giggle escaped your mouth. "It's fine, I was actually about to just walk away when you got there" you confessed, tenderly running your thumb up and down the corner of his mouth. "You really underestimate how bad I don't want to be hit on by anyone but you, Hwang Hyunjin".

The smile that had just curved up his lips right then could easily be one of your favourites he'd ever given you. There was something about his crescent moon eyes and his dimples that had your heart soaring.

You didn't get to stare at it for long, though, for those same lips that were holding the most beautiful smile you had ever seen were soon to be pressed on yours, somehow managing to show you everything he felt for you yet did not have the right words to express.

Feeling his hot breath tickle your wet lips after the lack of oxygen had broken you apart, you found yourself smiling against his mouth, pecking it ever so lightly and having him do the same the next second.

"Be my girlfriend?" he whispered against your mouth.

Your eyes opened wide, and you were sure they looked elated as ever — for you were elated as ever.

You could scream. You could cry. You could laugh. Everything at once as you were hit by the one question you had at some point believed Hyunjin would never let himself ask you.

You could do so many things right then as you stared into his tired yet genuine eyes, and your heart screamed for you to answer with the 'yes' that had gotten stuck at the back of your throat the second his question reached your ears.

At last, though, you let the rational part of you win for once.

Leaning in to steal a soft, lingering kiss from his cloudlike lips, you looked up at him with a small smile. "Ask me again when you're sober".

Letting out a breathy, defeated laugh, he rested his forehead on yours as he closed his eyes. "Will you say yes?"

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his nose. "Go to sleep, baby".

Although not entirely satisfied with your answer, he gave it up for once and for all, pulling you back to his chest as he closed his eyes and found comfort in the way your limbs were loosely wrapped around him. You were lucky the alcohol kept dragging him into a slumber, otherwise you would not have heard the end of it until you gave him a proper answer.

In less than a minute, he was fast asleep all over again.

You, on the other hand, were left wide awake while almost inaudible snores abandoned his lips every few seconds — unable to conceal your sleep as everything that happened that night kept replaying in your mind over and over. More precisely, images of your last conversation right before he closed his eyes and went to sleep.

With your heart pumping hard against your chest to the point you were scared it would wake him up, you could only wish he would not change his mind once he woke up. That if he even remembered everything that had left his mouth that night.

Wide awake, you were left thinking of every possible outcome following this night.

Whatever happened, though, drunk words were sober thoughts, and although conflicted over the circumstances they had been spoken on, you could not help the overwhelming happiness taking over your mind and body now that you knew Hwang Hyunjin wanted to make things official with you.

tag list: @blaaiissee @hyuneytoast @staysuki @tardiscompanion @princehyun-jin @hyuka-luvbot @halesandy @nattisbored @qnjayn @hibuki-chan @purenjuniverse @seungly @suhnnyskiess @midsoulz @kwanisms @esme-ordaz @perriwiinkle @firnze @soobin-chois @moon-320 @multifandomizer @elviransworld @valewoos @ktttwwn @hazzaloveschopsuey @hannahdinse8 @zoe8stay @leechanniee @phenomenalgirl9 @aeminju @threevracha @laryisthinking @wolfietara @iam2out @kingggjaay @cosmic-railwayxo @straykidsficsrecsbaby @marsophilia @choibeomgogi @ddaengpotate @oceanyocean @rinsdesires @jhslmhbtsskz @lixlovesworld @keenlampponyclam @yerimselgi @mal-lunar-28 @littlestarhyun @mingiholic @euphroseia

#skz #stray kids #hwang hyunjin #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #hyunjin imagines #skz fake texts #stray kids fake texts #hyunjin fake texts

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justasmallbloginabigklainefandom · 1 year ago

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@sohereswhatyoumissedlastweek replied to your post “remember when in idk 2008 you could just go to the...”:

Crazy right? That's also why I was so surprised Santa Monica Studio released a FREE dlc for God of War Ragnarok. And it's a damn good dlc too. It's surprising not to see greed for once

I have so much to say about gamers and capitalism. As in, I find it kind of baffling how everyone not only seems to accept the new practices (which, to be fair, I get, because what can consumers do against big companies?), but also that people seem to be excited about these new shitty ass business models.

Ine, buckle up. I have a lot to say.

For example, I am beyond pleased that Tears of the Kingdom has no DLC, and people find that weird. How can I be pleased? Don't I want more Tears of the Kingdom??? I mean, yeah, kinda, but I am a huge fan of having things be finished and the devs say it's finished. I only have one thing I really, really miss, but I am content with the game. And in a world where DLCs are nowadays announced even before the game is released, it's a fresh breath of fucking air (of the wild, badum tsssssss-). It's honestly sad that Tears of the Kingdom not having pre-determined DLC is a rarity. Back when the first triple A games started pulling this shit, people were angry and understandably so. The devs basically say "Hey, we're going to release an unfinished product and you gotta pay more to get the full deal!" and people used to hate that, but now it's a common practise.

So yeah, Nintendo gets an A+ for NOT announcing Tears of the Kingdom DLC.

Because I like DLC. I think DLC can be good. Splatoon 2 DLC is amazing. Mario Kart 8 DLC is amazing, but that's because they give a lot of new stuff years after the initial release, so it actually feels like it adds something! The devs didn't have to do it, but they did. But Splatoon 3 also has pre-determined DLC now and not only that, it comes in waves, which is also a new common thing. And interestly enough, there also seems to be a trend where the first wave of DLC is bad (Pokémon, Splatoon 3, Fae Farm...) (Heck, I initally was even excited about the idea of standard Pokémon DLC, since it beats the previous 3rd game model, but this is also not going well.)

This is why I wouldn't mind if, for example, two years later the Tears of the Kingdom devs change their mind and announce DLC anyway. The problem nowadays is just the pre-determined DLC.

And as you said, DLC can just be free. I, for example, respect ConcernedApe so much for making all Stardew Valley updates entirely free, and he added A LOT. All of 1.4 had the multiplayer stuff and 1.5 had basically a whole new post-game that took hours. And 1.6 is also shaping up to add cool stuff. FOR FREE.

I don't mind paying for DLC as long as it is good and doesn't feel greedy af. But also, it feels like you cannot get around it, because I am genuinely interested in Splatoon 3 DLC wave 2, especially since I know the devs can deliver (see Splatoon 2 DLC). I just wish they had approached it differently. But DLC has become greedy, from pre-determined DLC, to bad DLC, to whatever the fuck the Sims 4 is doing.

But this is just DLC. It feels like DLC is a hit or miss: it CAN be good, it CAN be amazing, even. But then we get shit like pay-to-win and whales and microtransactions. I saw in a video from BeatEmUps that even full price games now have additional microtransactions, which is wild. Woods BeatEmUps rightfully calls it out, but I am afraid this is the next step in the industry. The idea of microtransactions is that they are part of the "free-to-play" model, which is unfortunately also a thing studios are prioritising. I paid €4 for Good Pizza, Great Pizza without microtransactions. I could've played it for free on mobile, but then I have microtransactions. I have seen people online say they spent over $50 on it, and that's little. I once asked my friend who plays Genshin whether she spent more than €60 (which is the sale price these days) on that game, and she said "Yeah, definitely" and got a wake-up call. But this is also why Good Pizza, Great Pizza hasn't been updated on the Switch since 2021. I am missing the majority of the game and obv the devs aren't going to prioritise Switch players, since we don't pay them more additional money.

Oh, and the idea that you need an account for everything to even start a game. I was excited to try Fall Guys until I realised it was literally unplayable without an account. There's even a move to being constantly online to even launch a game, which... what the FUCK? Especially with cloudstreaming games etc. If I own a game, I want to be able to play it when I want. That shouldn't be a big thing to ask. Cause... what does it add? With Palia, it allows cross-play, so there it might be a good trade-off and I am actually considering getting an account. But with Palia, you can also play it without it! Here, an account is purely optional and it actually has a function.

"But doesn't Nintendo have an account?" yes, same thing. I have my games linked to my Nintendo account for cloud saving, but it isn't a must to play the games. Although, surprise surprise, I do pay an annual subscription for it, BECAUSE THAT'S ALSO PART OF IT. Sigh. Really. Splatoon 3. Really. I love you. But come on. On paper, it's €60 + €25 + annual €20 (or higher*) to even properly play that game! You don't even pay for a server. You pay for your own wifi. 3DS and Wii U and DS had its own Nintendo servers for FREE. And sure, they are gone now since Nintendo stopped support, so that might be the new trade-off, but still, if I am in a place without great wifi, I cannot play the game I paid €85 for and where I pay €10(*) a year for to play.

(* because you can also get NSO+ for €50, BUT you can also be part of a family plan, which is why I only pay €10 for NSO+, but not everyone can do that.)

Cause I know someone who has over 100 hours on Super Mario Maker, but as he said, the fun is in the online mode and he no longer has NSO, so he stopped playing entirely, and that was his only game on Switch. Luckily, there are still plenty of games that don't need online features, BUT AGAIN, I won't be surprised if the industry starts prioritising them since they will make them more money.

UUUUUUUUGH. I JUST HATE THE PAY-WALLING OF PREVIOUSLY FREE STUFF. I LOVE VIDDY GAMES, BUT VIDDY GAMES DO NOT LOVE ME.

#sohereswhatyoumissedlastweek #replies #lb gaming

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skeletonthecreator · 2 years ago

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[long post, sorry, theres a tldr at the end but i really recommend reading the full thing if you can]

i really wish there was more like. narcolepsy awareness stuff in the world. that teaches people the actual symptoms and not just the stereotype. the amount of people i have talked to both online and in person about my experiences with narcolepsy who have been shocked at how much they related to my experiences is staggering.

narcolepsy is so under-diagnosed and also very often misdiagnosed as something else because so many people, even within the medical field, don’t know the actual symptoms of narcolepsy (i am not pulling this out of my ass, my sleep specialist has told me this several times. its a real issue that sleep specialists continue to battle to this day). up until relatively recently, the past 5-10 years or so, narcolepsy and other similar sleep disorders weren’t even considered real by a lot of the medical field!!

narcolepsy is not “falls asleep at random” disorder. narcolepsy is a disorder of sleep cycles, causing the brain to enter rem sleep much quicker and more frequently then it should.

this causes things like excessive daytime tiredness/chronic fatigue, extremely vivid dreams, sleep paralysis, hallucinations while waking up/falling asleep, and in the case of those with narcolepsy type-1, cataplexy (aka, while feeling intense emotions the brain will enter rem sleep while awake, causing muscles to lock up. this is where the “falls asleep at random” stereotype comes from, but the person experiencing it is not actually asleep, just unable to move their muscles. i can’t really speak more on this specific part of narcolepsy, since i have type-2, aka narcolepsy without cataplexy, this is just the basics i was told by my sleep doctors. EDIT: someone who experiences cataplexy has added their experiences in a reblog, if youd like to learn more please go take a look!!) [note: these are not the only symptoms of narcolepsy. not all people with narcolepsy will experience all of these symptoms, and everyone will experience them at different frequencies. for example, i only get sleep paralysis once every month or so, and my hallucinations tend to be limited to auditory] according to my sleep doctor, narcolepsy also has links to both adhd and chronic strep throat as a child (i have no idea how that last one works. but. thats what my doctor said and hey. she was right. i had chronic strep throat as a child and look at me now.) EDIT because i forgot to add: narcolepsy can not only co-exist with insomnia, but cause insomnia as well! excessive daytime tiredness --> more naps during the day --> harder time falling asleep at night

so yeah. i guess this is me doing awareness. if you relate to any of these symptoms, please talk to a sleep specialist if you’re able to. it might not be narcolepsy, but chances are it’s something, since none of these things are normal (to repeat, excessive daytime tiredness is not normal. that means there is something wrong). theres nothing wrong with asking a sleep specialist about narcolepsy and getting tested for it, even if you come back negative.

my dms and askbox are open anytime for any kind of questions about narcolepsy, the diagnostic process, treatments, etc. while i am not a doctor, i have learned a lot through my own experiences, talking with my sleep specialist, and also my own research, since i’m currently studying to hopefully make narcolepsy research my career! whether you are questioning having narcolepsy or not, you are not bothering me with questions, i promise, you asking will probably make my day

TLDR; narcolepsy is a very misunderstood and underdiagnosed sleep disorder, and i highly recommend everyone learn about what it actually is and what the symptoms actually are, and if you relate to any of them, talk to a sleep specialist

[other narcoleptics feel free to add on to this post with your own experiences(and also to message me i always want to talk to other narcoleptics ASJDKHJ), and non-narcoleptics please please feel free to reblog! i really want to start spreading awareness for this disorder, since again, severally under/misdiagnosed and most of the world is still under the impression that the narcolepsy stereotype is true]

#GIRL HELP I KEEP FINDING TYPOS/GRAMMER ERRORS AFTER IT ALREADY HAS SO MANY REBLOGS #narcolepsy #narcoleptic #sleep disorder #chronic fatigue #disabilty awareness #narcolepsy awareness #disability #disabled #please reblog. i really dont want this to flop lol i am So Passionate about this stuff

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partypoisonzz · 2 years ago

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we must never be apart (gerard way x drummer!reader smut)

Kinktober 2022 Day 12: Hickies/Lovebites/Quickies

Era: Projekt Revolution (2007)

Reader Pronouns: None, but Reader has AFAB anatomy and there's one "Mistress" use.

Content:

- Backstage quickies againnnn

- HELLA subby Gerard

- Pegging mention

- Free use mention

- Established but secret relationship, fuck it we ball

Word Count: 2,435

Disclaimer: This explicit story was written by an adult for consumption by other adults only. If you are under 18, please do not read or interact in any way.

Gerard lets out a quiet whimper as the door closes behind you. You lean in to whisper a warning in his ear as you back him up against a wall.

"Quiet," you murmur before leaning in further, pressing a kiss to his neck. A soft albeit high-pitched sound breaks up from his throat as he relaxes underneath your touch.

You pull back, looking at him in the dim light of the venue's supply closet. He returns your gaze, swallowing hard.

You can't help but give him a sly smile. He's ruined already.

You're about to make it a whole lot worse.

"That's my good boy."

Before he can fully process the praise, your lips are pressed hard against his. He moans against your mouth, desperate. You can't resist making a comment about it when you pull away.

"So needy," you say. Then, because you always love to hear him say it: "Tell me what you want, baby."

He lets out another shaky whine before obliging you. "W-want you to keep touching me."

You giggle. "That's not very specific, is it?" You press an open-mouthed kiss to the edge of his jaw, working your way up until your lips rest just below his ear. "You could have me however you wanted," you whisper to him. "My hands... My mouth... My pussy... It's all yours."

As soon as these words pass your lips, you busy yourself with kissing him again, your mouth trailing back down his neck. He throws his head back, letting out another desperate groan.

Your eyes flick upwards, taking in the look on his face. His eyes are closed, ringed by eyeliner that has yet to be ruined by sweat, — or tears, if you had it your way. His mouth hangs open slightly, lost in the feeling of the meager touches and kisses that you're giving him. You're tempted to shove your fingers inside, make him suck and gag on them, but you figure it's best if that comes later. He still has to sing tonight, after all.

"Hurry up and tell me, baby," you urge him between kisses. "The show starts in thirty minutes. We don't have much time."

Judging by the way that Gerard is reacting to mere foreplay, you know that half an hour is more than enough time to get him off and continue going about your night. Still, there's something about the urgency that adds

another layer of thrill to the situation. The nagging notion that you shouldn't be doing this right now makes it all the more fun.

"Don't care what you do," Gerard finally manages. "Just want you to make me yours."

These words draw your attention to the insistent throbbing between your legs. Of course, knowing that you're in charge, you have to keep your composure.

"Just wanna be mine, huh?" you echo sweetly. "You wanna show everybody? Let everyone who looks at you know that you're my bitch?"

The degrading nickname elicits another pathetic whimper. "Yeah," he says. "Want them to know... Want them to see..."

You chuckle. "So they can picture how you look underneath me every night?" you ask. "You want them to hear all those dirty noises you make and wonder if that's what you sound like when I suck you off? Want them to talk about whether or not I'm the one fucking you?" You teasingly nip at his neck, inspiring a beautifully shrill cry that leaves you smiling against his skin.

"You know that they'd wonder," you go on. "The way that you bend over the amp... How you walk over to my drumset sometimes and mess with me, like you're just trying to piss me off... Everybody knows you're just begging to get fucked." You let out another laugh as you suck a hickey against a particularly tender spot on his neck. "God, I wish I had my strap. I'd fuck your brains out, right up against this wall. Ruin you before the show even starts."

These words cause him to let out a full-blown, desperate moan, leaning in to press his face against your neck. "Fuck me," he mutters.

You push him away from you, pinning him against the wall again. You give him a sly grin as your eyes rake over him, taking in his flushed face, the look of wanting in his eyes, the already-purpling marks on his neck.

He gives another shaky gulp, looking up at you with pleading eyes. Your smile fades away as you slowly shake your head. "You know, baby," you say. "I'm not sure you deserve that."

You swear that you see the hope draining from his eyes instantly. "What?" he huffs out, his voice high-pitched and whiny. "Why?"

In truth, you want nothing more than to sink down on him and ride him, quick and dirty, let him fill you up with his come before you walk onstage. Still, something tells you that teasing him before the show and spending the rest of the night getting him worked up will be much more fun in the end.

You hum, absentmindedly stroking the side of his face, — a gesture that is both condescending and affectionate enough to have Gerard melting against you. "You just haven't been as patient as you usually are," you explain. "You're usually so compliant, but tonight, you're being a bit... bratty."

He whines slightly, squirming slightly against your hold. "Sorry," he mumbles. "Was an accident, I swear. I—" He lets out a high-pitched sound of surprise as your hands travel down to his chest, pushing him up against the wall.

His eyes meet yours, pretty and coal-lined and filled with an unmistakable emotion. Fear.

You bare your teeth at him in the form of a dazzling smile. "Feeling ungrateful, are we?"

"N-no," he stammers, shaking his head back and forth pathetically.

"Hmm... I don't know." Before he can attempt to further explain himself, you lean in, giving him another deep, blistering kiss.

He kisses you back fervently, like he's afraid it's the only contact he'll have with you for the rest of the night. You're far too wet for that to be case, but that doesn't mean that you can't mess with him a little bit.

"You have two options," you tell him when he comes up for air, gasping for breath. You lean in so that your foreheads touch. As innocently domestic as the gesture may seem to others, the eye contact between the two of you is filled with white hot intensity. "Option number one: you get off from just my hand..."

One of your hands wanders down his body, landing on his belt buckle. You smile to yourself as you feel his breathing hitch.

"Or option number two..." You idly run your hand over his bulge for a moment before suddenly pulling back. "I go and fix my makeup right now, and leave you to take care of this by yourself."

"N-no," Gerard blurts out. "No, please..." You feel him shifting against you, desperately searching for just the slightest bit of friction.

You raise your eyebrows, pushing harder against his shoulders. "Behave," you caution him.

That one word is enough to make him go completely still, looking up at you with those sad doe eyes again.

You laugh softly, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Good boy." Without warning, your hand returns to the fly of his jeans. Though you hear his quiet gasp, you are pleased to find that he remains motionless.

"Why don't you beg pretty for me?" you ask him, pressing your hand ever-so-slightly harder against the denim.

It doesn't take him any time to comply. "Please," he whimpers.

"Please, what?" you ask, beginning to rub your hand up and down, slowly, oh-so-fucking-slowly.

"Please, Mistress," Gerard pants without missing a beat. God, he's so fucking good. "Please let me use your hand to get off."

"There we go." Your lips return to his neck as you finally reach for his zipper. You continue sucking at that sensitive place as you tug his jeans halfway down. You pull away when you realize that there are no underwear for you to discard.

"Little slut." You reach out, grabbing his ass quickly before pulling your hand away again. "What's this for, huh? Easy access?"

"Hah... Maybe..." Gerard's head falls against your shoulder again as your hand crawls ever-closer to where he needs you.

"Aww, baby, don't be shy," you gently chide. "It's alright. You can tell me. You just want me to be able to have your cock whenever I want it, right?"

He cries out as you suddenly wrap your hand around his aching cock, slowly rubbing your hand upwards. "Mmm-hmm," he hums, face buried in your skin.

You run your thumb in circles around his head, collecting precome. "Louder, sweetheart."

"Y-yeah," he manages, lifting his head slightly. "I... I do. Want it... Want you... All the fucking time..."

You give a satisfied hum. "That's because you're my whore, isn't it?" Suddenly, you begin moving your hand faster, resulting in a beautiful series of strangled moans.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is." He throws his head back again, bucking his hips against your hand. "Fuck..."

You chuckle. "Bet you'd let me use you whenever I wanted, if you could." Your lips return to his neck, this time trailing the hollow of his throat. "What would you think about that, baby? If I just climbed on top of you when you were doing something else and took what I wanted?"

"Yeah. Fuck, yeah. I'd like that." He lets out another surprised cry as you speed up your movements even more. "Ohgod, please..."

"You just wanna be my good little whore all the time, right?" Your teeth scrape against a mark you had previously left on his neck, causing those pathetic little noises to grow even louder. "Just wanna be mine, in every single way?"

"Please," he begs. He's actually fucking your hand now, though you can't exactly bring yourself to mind. "Please, please make me yours..."

You laugh softly. "You already are mine, baby," you tell him earnestly. "And I'm all yours, too. But you want everyone else to see that, don't you?"

He nods frantically. "Uh-huh."

You grin, nipping lightly at one of the bruises. "That's so sweet, baby," you purr. "You're so good, you know that? I'm awfully lucky."

"Th-thank you." He wraps his arms around your waist, attempting to hold you as close as he possibly can as your hand speeds up and your tongue flattens against the side of his hickey-strewn neck. "Oh, fuck..."

You simply hum against his skin, now moving your wrist at a breakneck speed.

You continue your ministrations until you feel his breathing falling out of time, his chest heaving against yours in a series of frantic gasps.

At that point, you pull back.

"Wh-what're you doing?" Gerard asks, eyes flashing with that look of panic once again.

You grin up at him as you sink to the floor. You know that getting on your knees for him sort of defies your dominance, but...

"Look at me," you order him as your hand returns to his cock.

His breath hitches as his eyes flick downwards, meeting yours.

You keep your eyes on his as you speed back up.

"That's it," you encourage him. You take note of all the signs that indicate that he's right there, ready to explode on the pull of a fucking hairpin trigger. His eyes look hazy, — clouded over, almost. His breathing comes in uneven gasps. "My good, pretty boy. You look so gorgeous, fucking my hand like this..."

Your praise causes his hips to buck harder against your hand. At this point, you aren't even sure if that's voluntary or not. "Oh... oh, please... God..."

"Feels good, huh?" You abruptly slow your movements, building up to what you think is a teasing pace as your hand moves along his shaft. "My good boy. Can't believe I get you all to myself. Can't believe that you're mine..."

Suddenly, his hips buck harder against your hand, a strangled groan breaking up from his throat. "Oh, fuck!"

You gasp as the first spurt of come spills all over your hand.

You milk him through it until he finally collapses against the wall, body twitching slightly with overstimulation.

"Mmm... Such a good boy." You bring your hand up to your mouth, eyes never leaving his as you lick the mess away from your fingers. Gerard's face manages to turn redder, even in his rosy afterglow.

You look down for a moment, only to find that your hand wasn't the only thing that had gotten messy.

"Motherfucker," you curse, regarding your now-ruined T-shirt with dismay. You rise slowly to your feet, tugging at the fabric.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do about this, Gerard?" you ask. "We go on in ten minutes. I don't have time to change..."

"Here." Gerard quickly tugs his vest off and holds it out to you. "Just wear this."

You cast a curious glance over your shoulder at him, now just wearing his plain black T-shirt. "You want me to go onstage wearing your clothes?" you ask. "Wouldn't that make people... speculate?"

He shakes his head. "Don't even care."

You can't help but smile at this declaration. "Alrighty. Singer's definitely fucking the drummer. Got it." You allow him to help you into the jacket before holding up a finger. "Now, just give me a sec..."

He regards you with a curious look as he redoes his pants. The look of confusion on his face never ceases when you remove the bandana from around your neck. "What..."

He suddenly goes silent as you wrap the bandana around his wrist, fastening it with a loose knot. "There," you say as you proudly pull away. "Everyone can see that we belong to each other now, right?"

For a moment, he just looks at you, eyes swimming with affection. Then, his hand comes to rest underneath your chin, pulling you closer to him.

You kiss him for what seems like forever, growing dizzy from the feeling after getting so fucking wet for him.

When he finally breaks away, Gerard offers you a question, so quiet you can barely hear it. "Marry me?"

You chuckle, pulling away. "Ask me again when you aren't so fucked out."

Little do you know as you step onstage that he fully intends on trying again later.

Maybe later tonight, at the hotel, he thinks as the roar of the crowd fills his ears. You turn to smile at him, your fingers brushing just slightly before the lights come up.

Taglist (Ask to be included!):

@mysunfishpeedinmyroom @xocasper @clichedlovers @enchantinghouseofwh0res @yachiiko @dangerouslittlefairy @deadlovers

#gerard way imagines #gerard way x reader #gerard way smut #mcr imagines #mcr x reader #mcr fanfiction #mcr smut #my chemical romance smut #my chemical romance imagines #my chemical romance x reader #/rpf #my chemical romance fanfiction #kinktober 2022 #my writing

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sukirichi · 4 years ago

Text

reckless [02.]

With a lackadaisical playboy as your boss, being reckless wasn’t an option. But on the one time you let loose and made mistakes, your life is shattered, and now you’re playing house with your insufferable boss who is the father of your baby.

✘ cw. angst, toxic situations

✘ note. yes, feel free to scream at me in the asks. but like don’t worry, i promise there’s more to come and there’s more to happen! it’s going to get fluffier as we go hehehehe. ALSO, I can’t help but feel that Zayn’s “Let Me” speaks perfectly to CEO playboy Gojo. hmph.

one ✘ two ✘ three

One glance at the tall man beside you, and you would’ve thought he would pass out soon.

Satoru had been endlessly fidgety hours before the appointment. Flicking from music stations to another, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel or sighing at the sight of you calmly watching the city go by in a flash – it was clear he was restless. Judging from the dark circles he tried to conceal under a pair of shades, he probably hadn’t slept much last night as well.

Now that you were both inside the clinical room, with you laying back down on the reclined bed, belly exposed and all for him to marvel at, his knee hadn’t stopped bouncing. “Satoru, calm down. It’s just a doctor’s appointment.”

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants. “I’m just…excited yet nervous, you know? It feels so real now.”

Real didn’t begin to cover it. Although you masked your nervous quite well, you felt your stomach tighten when a woman came in. Her smile was gentle and comforting enough, talking you both through the process and spilling little fun facts about pregnancy. She applied a cool gel over your belly before turning to a screen, where mixed dots and waves of black and white blurred in front of your visions. Your eyes widened in awe, throat dry from the inability to speak. The baby had always felt real, but seeing it with your own two eyes, a small figure barely even a comprehensible shape in the screen, you couldn’t help but tear up a little.

“That’s mine?” Satoru breathed out, absentmindedly looping his hands through yours. It made you stiffen for a quick second, but your attention was quickly pulled back to the sonogram. “We made that?”

Your heart clenched at his words.

He sounded so happy – like all his dreams came true and you’d just given him a gift that was beyond priceless. You supposed it really was; a baby was always a miracle and joy to have, but this child wasn’t made out of love. How could he have so much fondness for something he didn’t want in the first place?

“The baby is perfectly healthy. This pregnancy doesn’t seem like a high-risk one, but it’s too early to tell so we’ll keep checking in on you,” the doctor pushed her glasses back to her nose, the sound of her cool voice pulling you back from a dangerous path of self-doubt and wariness. “Do you guys want to know the gender?”

Glancing at Satoru, you shook your head. It was amusing that you didn’t need to share words before he got the meaning behind one look, and he squeezed your hand as if to say he understood.

“I’d like that to be more of a surprise. Thank you, doctor.”

“Congratulations on being a father, Sir,” she bowed, and it occurred to you just now she was probably a family doctor. Satoru did end up keeping his promise that your pregnancy be kept private for a while. This little detail made you turn to him with shock written all over your face, though his attention was centred in on the swirling monochrome colours on the screen. Whether the doctor noticed the brewing tension between you two or not, you were still gad when they bowed once more to excuse themselves. “I’ll leave you two to talk now.”

The moment she was gone, you sat up and pushed your blouse down. Satoru’s demeanour had changed as well. His smile was wiped from his face, replaced only by a slight downturn of his lips.

Sighing, you swung your legs over the bed, not minding one bit that he was inches away from resting his chin onto your thighs. “Is there something you’re not telling me? You’ve been so worried since we got here.”

Satoru winced.

“Am I that obvious?”

“Even if you aren’t, it’s not that hard to see through you,” you spoke gently, a spirit possessing you because there would’ve been no other logical reason on why you placed a palm over his. Satoru’s hands were warm and large as he cupped your knee, tracing little patterns over your jeans as he kept his gaze lowered to the floor. It was an odd sight to see; that the Gojo Satoru refused to look a woman in the eye. “Tell me. What’s wrong?”

Satoru’s sigh is painfully drawn out, though his chuckles took the brunt.

“I don’t know what to do – how to be a father, I mean. Don’t you ever get worried…that maybe we might fuck up and ruin someone’s life?”

“Hey,” you cupped his cheek, forcing him to look you in the eyes – which you really wished he didn’t, because you’d never seen such azure this up close before. It was no secret that his eyes alone stole the hearts of people, but you had to remind yourself he broke them as well, so that you pulled away right before he got too close for comfort. It wasn’t what he needed anyway. Satoru simply required reassurance, so you opted for an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Weren’t you the one telling me the other day we’ll work it out?”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head, a smile lighting up his features once more. “Are you feeling good? There’s someplace I want to take you, as a celebration for our healthy baby.”

You pursed your lips. As much as you appreciated his enthusiasm, this ‘celebration�� didn’t sound like a good idea. You’ve made mistakes before and now you lived the consequence of it; being reckless was outdated. Caution, wariness, and space were the top three perfect recipes for the complete opposite of a disaster.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Why not?” he challenged, taking your hand in his as he guided you out the clinic. You made no comment on why he led you out the back where he’d parked his car, even going as far to bow for you as he opened your door. “Liven up a little, we got good news today! Plus, we didn’t both take a day for nothing. Come on, you’re going to have fun, I promise you!”

“And where would we go where people won’t recognize you?”

“Somewhere people are too lost in their own world to focus on others,” Satoru announced before sending you a side glance, smooth hands already on their way to rev the engine.

This wouldn’t go down well. Or at least that was what you wanted to believe, because his smile and excitement were too contagious that you couldn’t restrain the smile you wore.

“A carnival? Really? We’re too old for this.”

“We’re never too old for anything,” he insisted, placing his hands on your shoulders as he maneuvered from stall to stall. Everywhere around you, children and people of all ages milled by, laughter and screams that fading into the distance. One survey at the long, endless lines for the rides and crowded spaces, you grimaced, feeling an uncomfortable weight resting on your shoulders that was beyond Satoru’s hands. “Aw, come on, don’t be such a bore. Day offs like these are rare and think about the baby! Don’t you think they would’ve wanted us to get a long?”

“You’re just using the baby as an excuse to have fun.”

Of course he would – Gojo Satoru was like a man-child. Whether it was someone randomly bringing donuts or puppies into the office, he easily lit up like a firework, seemingly finding joy in every little thing. Being stuck in the office and forced to work his ass off under your supervision must’ve taken a toll on him too.

Add on the fact he hadn’t gone out on dates or parties ever since he found out he was going to be a dad, the desperation to go out and do something was written all over his face.

Satoru pouted. “That’s mean. Take that back.”

“No.”

“And I’m the childish one here?” he snickered. You merely rolled your eyes at him and gave in; too much time spent working and not enough time relaxing (not that being a carnival was your definition or relaxation, but alas, Satoru was dragging you around everywhere like always) wouldn’t be good for the baby.

“You see that bear over there? I’m going to win that for you. It could be my first ever present for our baby.”

There was no stopping him. You didn’t want to, either, because you just stood there, arms crossed against your chest as you let him do whatever he pleased. A literal man-child, a youthful soul stuck in an irritatingly attractive man’s body – these were the thoughts that ran through your head while Satoru kept swinging his arm back and forth. He chose a stall where you had to knock down stacks of cans down with one set of three balls, all because he wanted to win a bear. You would really rather go home than watch him fail four times now, but he wasn’t giving up, only flexing his shoulders before gesturing to the young man.

“Hey man, three more balls please.”

Nothing was funny about it at all. Watching your boss fail miserably even after ten tries shouldn’t have been so hilarious, yet sweat was dripping all over his face and his patience was hanging on a loose thread that you were giggling before you knew it.

His usual confident bravado began to tear down bit by bit, his face flushed from the sounds of your teasing.

“Satoru, stop,” you laughed, “We’ve been here for twenty minutes and your wallet might as well be empty! You can just go buy a bear at the mall.”

“You’re too functional. Where would be the meaning behind it if I just bought a random bear?” he huffed, pushing the sleeves of his denim jacket up to his elbows. Determined now more than ever, he even stretched his long arms side to the side with a shake of his hips. You could tell the young man manning the stall was hiding his amusement by whistling to himself, but Satoru really was such a ridiculous sight you couldn’t blame him. “No, I’m going to get that for you, then I’ll brag to my baby how cool their dad was when he knocked those cans down.”

“You mean, if you knock those cans down.”

His shoulders deflated. “Support me a little bit, will you?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, it might just inflate your ego and you’ll be too distracted by yourself to ever actually knock those cans down,” He threw a ball with a force so strong it hit the curtain above the cans, and it bounced back somewhere below the tables. It didn’t even touch the can by a smidge, and you snorted. “See what I mean?”

Expecting that Satoru would take insult to heart (as his ego was easily wounded, this much you knew when he refused to talk to anyone at the office for a whole day because one of his directors forgot his name) you smirked at him, but that smirk immediately dropped when he grinned back at you. He was no longer wimpy like before, an aura of confidence brimming from him. “That’s like the second time you’ve told me I was distracting,” he mused, leaving you baffled because he was right. “On the contrary, I think you’rea lot more distracting, so I take that back. Just stand there and watch me win.”

“Okay,” you drawled out in faux disinterest, thankful for the corny carnival music and chatter from the crowd that he couldn’t hear your poor beating heart.

You were too focused on pretending to be unbothered by him that you failed to see how the cans were knocked down. The counter guy was already picking them up as Satoru pumped his fists in the air, way too much like a child high on sugar.

Was this really the father of your baby?

“I won! I fucking won! That huge brown bear, please!”Satoru’s smile from holding the bear that was half his size couldn’t even compare to the city lights and sparklers. Even his eyes were lit up in joy as he skipped back to you, happily waving the doe-eyed bear in front of you. At your lack of reaction, he sighed before jutting his cheek out to you. “No congratulations kiss?”

“How about a slap?”

“Kinky,” he teased, sending your brain to overheat when he tapped his chin in thought. “Well, you did make my back bleed so I kind of got the idea you’re sort of extreme in bed – ow! Would you please stop hitting me? I just won you a wonderful prize and your first reaction is to hit me! This arm is exhausted from swinging endlessly, you know.”

“Maybe if you aimed better, you wouldn’t have had to exhaust yourself. Like I said, you could’ve just bought a bear,” you scolded, raising your arm threateningly when he opened his mouth again. Idiot. “Give me that.”

Satoru effortlessly swung the bear until it was under your chins, his white lashes ethereal as he peeked at you through them. He was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath dusting on your cheeks, that same warmth that had been mixing with yours in a sloppy, heated kiss just weeks ago. “And who said I was letting you carry this?” he taunted, thoroughly enjoying how for once, you weren’t hitting him.“I’m supposed to wave this around proudly then place it in our baby’s room when we get home. Besides, your hand looks heavy already.”

“My hands? Wait, what do you mean our baby’s room?”

At your words and questioning gaze, Satoru did a quick turn, trying to use the bear as a shield.

“Yeah, I forgot to tell you,” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “I may or may not have had my parents’ guest room renovated as a baby room, although if you ask me, I think moving somewhere else would be much better. Raising a child in a penthouse doesn’t seem like such a great idea if you ask me,” opening your mouth to scold him, Satoru stopped you by placing a finger on your lips, noses grazing against each other. “Don’t scold me right now; I know that look on your face and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, okay? We can still decorate it ourselves. I just had the beds removed and the space cleaned out. Now stop over thinking and let me help you with your problem.”

You pushed his face away for the sake of your heart. In fact, you should be paid for your acting skills for looking so unaffected.

“What problem?”

“Your hands look heavy,” he beamed, long fingers looping through yours as he swayed them side to side. “So let me carry it for you.”

“Satoru, I—”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he blinked innocently while surrendering his free hand, “I’m not doing this for you, it’s for the baby. Did you know oxytocin is released and makes you feel good and reduces pain, maybe even stress? We can pump your oxytocin levels through touch. It also lowers your blood pressure, and we want you at your happiest and healthiest for this pregnancy, right?”

“Since when were you an expert on this?”

“Since I found out I’m becoming a dad,” his words struck you speechless, mouth pressed into a flat line as you stared him openly. You hadn’t mean to come off as rude in that moment; you were just trying to gauge the sincerity behind his words, to explore the depth in his eyes, but Satoru must’ve took it wrong as he cleared his throat, “I can let go if you really want me to.”

“N-no! It’s fine…can we move? We’ve been standing here for ten minutes now,” Embarrassed, you pointed to the closest thing in your sight – a photo booth. “How about there? That looks fun.”

Satoru followed where your arm was pointed, laughing when a couple exited the red curtains while giggling amongst themselves. The guy even leaned down to steal a long kiss from his lover, and if you were embarrassed before, you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come back again right now. “You know, if you wanted me to be stuck in a cramped space next to you, you could’ve just said so. I didn’t bring the limo with me, but the Audi could be pretty small for us, I guess…”

You hissed at him in warning, “God, you never shut up do you?”

“It made you smile.”

“I wasn’t smiling!”

“Sure, mommy, whatever you say,” bumping his hip with yours, Satoru led you inside the cube. There were a plethora of filters to choose from; ranging from heart frames and ones that placed shades on your face. Not really thinking of what to pick, you reached out to press the frog hats one, but Satoru was swatting your hands away for the effect with heart emojis everywhere. “This is cute. We can show this to our baby once they’re born.”

“They won’t really know what a Polaroid is, Satoru.”

“It’s still sentimental!” he grumbled before clicking the camera icon, a huge smile already on his face until he saw you squished on the other side of the booth. Only one side of your ear could be seen, and Satoru furrowed his brows at you. “Come closer, you’ll be cropped from the frame.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Jesus, Y/N, don’t act shy now, I already fucked a baby into you,” mouth falling open at the vulgarity of his words, Satoru took the chance to drag you beside him. “Relax, you’re always so stiff. Our baby might come out frowning if you keep huffing like that.”

“You’re too close for comfort.”

“My apologies, I’ll try not to be included in the photo when you’re the one who suggested this in the first place,” he muttered playfully, booping your nose before he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He was close, too close, that his musky perfume filled the close space. You wanted to lean closer to his warmth and sturdiness of his broad shoulders; his mere presence bringing about a sense of tranquillity despite your words. You told yourself it shouldn’t be too bad to lean into him for just a little while, absentmindedly following him as he cheers, “Smile!”

One photo turned into two, and Satoru ended up inserting a few more bills into the slot to take more. He tried out as many filters as he wanted, acting as if you two had been long time friends from how easy it was for him to be around you like that.

You supposed it came from his heavy experience with women. You were so unlike; while he was open to touch and didn’t care too much about space, you craved it deliriously.

It was obvious none of this meant anything to Satoru. You were probably just another woman in his life, with the exception that you had a kid, but you couldn’t mean something more. If anything, he treated you more like an old friend than a lover. He’d said it himself before that you weren’t his type and you didn’t mind, so why did it hurt the longer you mulled about it? Sure, you may not be as attractive or luxurious as his previous lovers, but did you really not even have charismatic pull? Is it because you weren’t his type that he was so casual with you, while you on the other hand, felt like you would lose your mind at every little thing he did?

You watched as Satoru pulled out his wallet and kept the Polaroid of you both grinning at the camera, forming a silly heart shape with your hands per his request. It was silly and platonic – yet the gesture confused you to no end.

“Why’d you do that?”

Satoru’s hand paused. “Am I not allowed to…?”

“We’re not lovers. You can’t just put a photo of us in your wallet.”

As if to prove a point, Satoru pulled out more photos of his wallet and showed it to you. There were several more wallet-sized photos, mostly of his white cat with black shades, another of him and his best friend, Shoko, and the last photo was of him skiing. They were all placed in his wallet along with a small, faded out photograph of what seemed to be his parents from the younger days. You couldn’t understand why he was showing you this, much less how patient he was as he smiled softly at you. “It’s memorabilia. I keep photos of everyone I care about everywhere with me,” he said, pocketing his wallet back before gazing up at the night sky. “I like to think we’re friends, at least. We’re definitely not just boss and employee anymore.”

Then what are we?

There were so many things you wanted to ask. You always knew he was always this overly friendly and nice, but what did make you? What did a friend mean to him? Other than Shoko, who was his lesbian friend who was also the company’s resident doctor, you’d never seen him be platonic with another female before.

The realization made your mood drop.

Maybe you were right. He probably didn’t even see you as a woman, but what did it matter? You didn’t like him. You shouldn’tlike him. Even if he had no intentions of wooing you, Gojo Satoru was far too appealing for his own good. Being around him was dangerous for your heart.

“Wanna ride the ferris wheel? The night city always looks beautiful.”

He was just your boss...and you were just a friend. Things were going to be alright as long as no feelings were involved. You survived seven years of working with him with not a single moment where your heart fluttered when he spoke your name; a baby made between you shouldn’t change anything now. At the end of the day, you were both only doing this out of responsibility. Satoru was trying his best to become a supportive co-parent to you, and that was all it ever would be. Strictly business – purely professional – as it always had been and always will be.

Foolish girl, you could hear a voice whisper at the back of your head, don’t get too lost in his eyes.

“Y/N, are you tired? Do you want to go home now? We can just order dinner to be delivered if you’re exhausted,” Satoru tugged at your sleeve to get your attention, and you chuckled awkwardly, not meaning to have spaced out the whole time. Worry was written all over his face from the way his brows dipped, stunning blue eyes darkening like the night sky you both made memories under.

Don’t look at me like that...

“Are you okay? Do you wanna go home?”

“Yeah,” you chirped far too brightly than you would’ve liked. Right now, it was more of a mission of fake it til you make it. You would just have to keep exerting the same amount of effort into making this work for the baby’s sake. And if that meant pushing aside any budding desire for this to last any longer to focus on your ‘friendship’, then you would do it. Taking Satoru’s hand for the first time since the baby ordeal, you flashed him a genuine smile. “The ferris wheel sounds nice. Let’s do some sightseeing before the night ends.”

Neither of you speak inside the cab. Beautiful the night was as the city shone into awakening illumination beneath you, comforting you with the thought that in the grand scheme of it all, you were small. Insignificant. That somehow everything you worried about wouldn’t matter when there was a much bigger world out there, and you were but a fickle dot in the middle of its entirety. But that was you, and Gojo lived in a much different world than you did. For somewhere in the city, you could recognize several of the sky towers, buildings, and establishments owned by his family. He mattered in the grand scheme; you were a small factor in his world.

Glancing back at the man who’d been silent the whole ride, you smiled upon seeing that he was doing the same. Satoru was practically bouncing in his seat as he snapped several photos of the city, mumbling something about he’d never seen this view before.

He was so innocent yet so out there, igniting within you an urge to take care of him and wanting to be taken care of by him.

You’d already accepted that you may just never have him that way. That small, fleeting crush was like a butterfly – pretty look at, but damn near impossible to catch. You’d already stopped crying yourself to sleep over the new changes brought about in your body, that in a few months’ time, you’d look back into everything and see that everything had changed. The mistakes you made that night were still something you regretted because you wished you could’ve done better, but seeing him right in front of you now, there was only gratefulness blooming within. Grateful that he was right by your side, grateful that at least the father of your child was more than capable of giving them a comfortable life, grateful that he didn’t push you away like you expected.

Acting more on impulse than logic, you leaned over to press your lips on his cheek.“Thank you,” you mumbled, eyes closed as you let your lips stay there for a few more seconds.

His skin was warm underneath your touch, and when you opened your eyes, Satoru was gazing up at you with stars twinkling in the vast galaxy he called his eyes. You smiled at his reaction, watching as he reached a palm out to caress that spot your lips had landed.“For what?”

“For everything,” you crumbled,“You’re not a bad person, Satoru, I know that,” with shuddered breaths, tears sprung at the back of your eyes again. “I’m sorry for being so difficult. I just need time to adjust to…well, all of this.” Your voice cracked at the last sentence and you were crying before you knew it, face hidden behind your palms in fear he’d look at you differently. In his eyes, you were always his stoic secretary who didn’t even bat an eye when people gave you backlash after Satoru hired you despite the lack of a college degree.

This all felt new – to cry, to trust, to rely on someone – and there was a flurry of emotions you couldn’t quite place yet.

Scooping you into his arms, Satoru patted your back as your cries grew louder. “Take all the time you need. We don’t have to rush into anything at all.”

In the harsh world of conglomerates where the laws of business blurred thinner and thinner with each day, it was hard to believe that not rushing into anything would be possible. It was always a flurry of hurried phone calls, frantic preparations for emergency meetings, anxiety over presenting new proposals and hoping that your superiors would sign your documents so you could go about your way. Time was as imperative as money was to them, but Satoru had proved he could be beyond that.

From the moment you met him, he never treated time as if it was something that slipped through his fingertips. He enjoyed every second he had of his life, and perhaps that was why you hated him so much in the first place.

You thought he took everything for granted, when in reality, all he did was bask in the little things life offered.

This much, at least, you trusted him with. If he said there would be no need to rush and you could both take it slow, he meant it. Around him, time felt more like a secret whisper than a treasure you both had to seize to protect. The night drifted off until it was already midnight and the crew was ushering all visitors out. You and Satoru made it home safely and quietly, hands linked together as if it was the most natural thing ever. No rush, you kept telling yourself, and you plopped down on the couch heavily as you let your muscles relax from such a long, eventful day.

You stayed there for a solid minute or so when you felt warm hands take your heels off. Opening your eyes, Satoru kneeled before you, his fingers expertly rubbing and pushing against the sore muscles of your feet. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Your feet must be tired from all that walking,” he mumbled, looking up briefly to meet your eyes and tease your shoulder back. “Lean back for me. I’ll take care of you.”

Judging by the sentiment behind his smile, you figured it wouldn’t be harmful to enjoy this at least once. You’ve never gotten foot massages before but his hands kneading yours felt heavenly. You knew from experience beforehand that Satoru was quite godly when it came to the skills and magic his fingers brought, though this one was on a different level, and you were sinking deeper into the couch from the bliss. He was right; you were tired, and if having your boss massage you like this every night after dragging you wherever he pleased, then you wouldn’t complain.

The ringing of your phone made you sit up abruptly, surprising Satoru whose head you almost knocked into. “Sorry,” you croaked out sheepishly, “It’s my dad. I need to take this.”

“Do you need me to leave you alone?”

“Uh, no, you’re fine.”

Satoru gestured to your foot as you took the call, mouthing, “Should I continue?”

“Yes, please,” you answered back, palm pressed over the mic before you answered. “Hey, Dad!” Your father greeted you back with much enthusiasm, his energy heard even by Satoru who sent you small smiles and curious glances every now and then. A part of you wanted to ask if he was fine kneeling on the floor like that, but his knees were on the fur carpet anyway that it shouldn’t hurt him. He extended your leg and trailed up your calves, pulling a soft moan from you when he kneaded the flesh and rid it of its knots. His ministrations distracted you until you were nodding absentmindedly to your Dad every now and then, not really paying attention to what he was saying.

Then the call ended, and his last words kept ringing back into your head ominously. Satoru took quick notice of this as he tapped your knee, bringing your attention back to him. “Is something wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I...” you started, helplessly fumbling around Satoru. “My dad is in Tokyo. He said he wants to have dinner with me.”

“You don’t look particularly happy about that. Do you not want to meet your father?”

“I do but...”

“But?”

“I have to tell him about this,” you shivered, refracting your legs back to the couch until his touch disappeared from your skin. For a moment, you had the urge to crawl back to his heat, but you were restless, agitated. “About us. He’s going to want to meet you and I don’t want to hide the pregnancy from him either,” Satoru remained unmoving as you rambled, and you hid your face behind your arms again as you remembered the rules you asked him to follow. “Listen, I’m sorry if I sound unfair right now, I know I said I didn’t want anyone else knowing—”

Warm lips brushed over your knuckles, large hands peeling your wrists to reveal your face. “Hey, it’s fine. He’s family and you can tell him. It’s not like your Dad would ruin your image or something like you expected to happen.”

“He won’t but...” you frowned, “My dad isn’t going to like this. I can’t guarantee he’ll be civil the whole time, especially towards you.”

“You told him about me?”

“A few years ago, yeah, when I still couldn’t tolerate you.”

“So you can tolerate me now?”

“Only a little bit,” you corrected, pushing his hands away as you opened your phone to check your schedule. It was mostly Satoru’s schedule, truth be told, but you were free for the most part tomorrow. Satoru could just longue back in his office while you clocked out early to meet your dad. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. On second thought, he doesn’t have to know at all. I’m only a few weeks in and it’s not like he’ll notice—”

“Y/N,” Satoru interrupted you, rudely snatching his phone from your shaking fingers. You would’ve scolded him had he not sounded so worried. “I did promise I would take responsibility for you, right? I want to meet your dad and introduce myself properly. As a father-to-be, I think I can somewhat understand that he might react strongly to this, but I also need to reassure him you’re in safe hands,” taking your hand in his, Satoru leaned into your palm, the smile he wore way too charming than what your heart could handle. “As long as you’re okay with it, I would like to meet him.”

“I’m sorry if he does something stupid.”

“Don’t be,” he reassured with a chuckle. “I’m sure everything will go well.”

It didn’t go well. Your father wasn’t throwing a fit or causing a scene like you originally feared, but the current situation wasn’t any better either. He looked like he was on the verge of tearing Satoru’s head apart, his grip on the bread knife so tight his knuckles flashed white. Your father was the literal definition of unpredictable and out of nervousness, you held Satoru’s hand under the table for comfort.

In complete opposition of yours, Satoru handled it with class and composure. His head was ducked down in respect, making sure to be curt and precise in counters to your father’s harsh accusations.

“I’m really sorry for everything, Sir.”

“Did you ruin my daughter’s life?”

Satoru finally tilted his head back up to look your father in the eye, both your hands turning cold and sweaty in between the seats. “Pardon?”

“I asked if you ruined my daughter’s life by getting her pregnant.”

“I would never intend for that to happen, Sir,” Satoru straightened up. From your perspective, he looked every bit the man parents would want their children to be with – handsome, elegant, educated, polite, respectful and well-off – but your father was no ordinary parent. He sized Satoru up like a predator hunting his prey even as the latter acted cool about it. “Granted, it was an accident and neither of us are prepared for this, but I promise I’ll take care of her. I take responsibility as the father and you have nothing to worry about.”

Your dad slammed his palms down on the table, the loud smack catching the attention of nearby tables. “How dare you tell me I have nothing to worry about?”

“Dad, please don’t do this.”

“No, he needs to know,” he snapped. Unable to help it, you groaned inwardly and scooted closer to Satoru, knowing where this was leading. “I lost her mother right after she was born; raised her by myself when I was barely out from high school. Rich men like you may never understand the struggles of taking care of a baby all by yourself, but I did everything I could to make sure she grew up well. My daughter had a happy, comfortable life. When she told me she wanted to follow her dreams in Tokyo, I supported her, and then you go take everything away from her because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself? You dare defile her like that?”

“Dad!” you roared, clutching Satoru’s hand who’d gone limp. “It was equally my responsibility as it is his! I wanted this; we both got carried away but we’re doing our best, so please stop being difficult to us.”

“You wanted this?” he laughed dryly, “A child with this man you kept moaning to me about; the same man who went to clubs every night while he left you all by yourself to work, to clean up his mess from him? You wanted him?”

“Dad,” you gritted your teeth, nails sinking down onto your thigh. Satoru remained silent between you both, although you could feel his burning gaze penetrating through the back of your skull. “It’s both our mistake. But this child...we don’t see it as that. We like to view it as a blessing. It may be true we harbour no affection for one another, but we want to be good parents. That’s all you need to know and I find no reason to explain myself to you. If you have nothing else to say, you can go back home. I’ll pay for your ride,” slamming down a few bills his way, you glared at your father, who shrunk back at the anger radiating off of you. “You’re not welcome here, Dad. Just go back home.”

“I’m just worried for you.”

“You don’t have to. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“I never said you were,” he sighed, rubbing the sides of his temples. “But he just took all your opportunities away from you! What about your dreams? What about your plan of having your own career once you have enough experience? What about—”

“Are you implying that because I’m pregnant, suddenly I’m not qualified to fulfil my goals?”

“Sir,” Satoru cut you off, releasing your hands as he leaned forwards on the table, becoming more and more like the CEO he was trained to be – all authority and gentle command that won the hearts of multiple investors. “I assure you that I won’t be holding your daughter back from the things she wants to achieve. As her co-parent, I’m perfectly capable of supporting her in the dreams she wishes to achieve. I’ve worked with her for years; I know she can reach for the stars if she wanted.”

Your mind blanked.

“Young man, don’t talk to me as if you know my daughter better than I do,” your father scorned, “I’m not questioning your capability to support her, but what about your credibility? How can you assure me you’ll really be there for her? How can you assure me you won’t leave my daughter stranded in the middle of nowhere? How can you assure me you can protect her from the harsh criticism of society? Money can’t provide nor does it solve anything,” your father copied his gesture by leaning forward, but it was to poke Satoru’s chest. “From what I’ve heard about you, I suppose you understand perfectly well why I don’t trust you.”

“Sir, I do plan on marrying your daughter and to give her the life she deserves,” Satoru confessed, effectively stealing from you the ability to speak as he glimpsed your way. “If she lets me.”

“You’ll marry her? Be faithful to her as your wife and have a family? Are you sure you can do that?”

“Yes, Sir, I’m highly confident I can. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Then that’s all I need to know,” your father leaned back in your seat, arms crossed against his chest and a stern expression on his face. “And if I find out you hurt or make my daughter cry in any way, I’ll beat up that pretty face of yours. I have two more sons that’re willing to do the same, if you don’t watch your actions.”

Satoru beamed at your father’s ‘approval.’ “I’ll face any consequence if I fall short on my duties, Sir, but I assure you, it will never have come to that.”

“So we’ve come to an agreement?”

The two men linked and shook hands across the table, completely disregarding the fact you were right beside him. You were beyond appalled, but mostly hurt that you’d been reduced to this way. And they were unaware of it, too, sickening and satisfied yet tense smiles were masked on their faces as they decided your future.

You stood up and left the restaurant.

You kept walking as fast as you could in the cold night, hands shoved into the coat of your pockets. Thousands of pin needles pricked at your heart and your skin the more you replayed the memory in your head. How stupid were you to think that Satoru would be different? And marriage? Was he serious? It all made you sick to the core to the point you wanted to throw up and disappear, until a heavy set of footsteps echoed behind you and tugged your wrist.

“Y/N, wait!” Satoru panted, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “What’s wrong with you? You just up and left—”

“Seriously, Satoru, you’re asking me that?” your face fell flat at his cluelessness, “What’s wrong with you? You men are sickening; planning my entire future like that right in front of me as if I don’t have a say in what I want. None of you asked if I’m okay with this. You really went ahead deciding we’ll get married when I told you already, I don’t want to marry you and I never will!”

Satoru brushed a hand over his hair, a hand on his hip. You could tell his patience was being tested – after being verbally harassed by your father and now with you pushing back in the same heat, it was only a matter of time before he lost his cool. Surprisingly enough, however, his voice remained levelled as he sighed. “What did you expect me to do back there? Tell your father that we’re just going to be roommates and raise a child together as if we’re not already family?” he defended, words slow and pronounced with a hint of hurt behind them. “I respect you and I truly do want to be with you, that’s why I wanted us to get married.”

“You respect me?” you laughed incredulously, “Are you hearing yourself right now? No person respects another by deciding what happens to my life without my consent!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask, okay? I apologize for it and I acknowledge my mistake that I didn’t give you much of a choice. Me being cornered and pressured isn’t a good excuse, but I wasn’t lying when I said I want to take care of you and—”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why do you want to be with me?” you demanded, “Why do you want to take care of me so badly? How did you even take this so well? You weren’t even that angry when I told you I was pregnant.”

Satoru paled. “Was I supposed to be? Should I have pushed you away and kicked you out my life? Is that what you wanted me to do, or is that what you expected from me, considering you’ve made it extremely clear I’m nothing but your airheaded boss and a man who always wants his dick wet, right?” the sting of his words pricked you both – you with your guilt, and him with his pride crushed. But he didn’t let on, didn’t waver and didn’t match your anger as his chest shook with impatience. “I’m trying to be good to you; I want to be good for you and the baby because despite what you think of me, I’m not the devil the tabloids make me out to be. I sleep around, yeah, but I wouldn’t go so far to turn someone away especially when I know I’m supposed to be there.”

“Satoru, if you’re only doing this out of obligation, you can be a good father without marrying me. Marriage is not a requirement; I don’t care what people say that I got pregnant without getting married. That’s the least of my concern, I just want the baby to grow up healthy but I don’t want to be involved with you.”

With how stunned Satoru looked, one would’ve thought you slapped him right in the face. That mere sight of seeing your boss tear his walls down in front of you almost made you feel bad, but you had to be strong.

You had to be firm with what you stood for.

“I really don’t want to be with you, Satoru. I’m so sorry.”

“What do you want me to do?” his voice cracked, begging and pleading as he stood before you, looking every bit of a man lost in uncharted territory. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Y/N. One moment, you’re telling me you want me to be a good father, and then the next you’re pushing me away. People are so sure that I’m a man who can never settle down because they believe I have commitment issues, but I’m telling you I can commit to you right now,” he held your hand, rubbing some of his warmth at your comparably cold ones. You didn’t fail to notice that he was trembling, but what about what you couldn’t decipher. “Are you really sure I’m the one here who isn’t capable of that? What are you so scared of that you can’t trust me?”

“Because you’re you! Because you’re a fucking asshole who’s been treating me like I’m an overworking machine and always expects me to undo your shit for you! Because you make me sick and I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t know what love means!” Exploded. You exploded. “I regret everything that happened between us that night. No, in fact, I regret ever meeting you at all.”

Satoru took a step back.

All the light and joy that fit so perfectly with him had now disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” he demurred, “I’m sorry that I’d been so repulsive that you’ve felt miserable for all this time. I’m sorry I haven’t been a decent boss and I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you.”

“Gojo, stop. Stop doing that; stop apologizing!”

“Then tell me what you want me to do,” he barked desperately. “Because I can’t read your mind and I just want to be good for you.”

“What if I don’t want you to? I don’t want you to be good to me, I don’t want you to care about me. Be there for the baby, but don’t involve yourself too much in my personal life. Stop asking me to marry you because you and I would never work out. We’re impossible, okay?”

“How do you know we’ll never work out when we haven’t even tried?” he pushed, “You never even gave me a chance.”

“You’re not worth that chance.”

If someone could receive an award for effortlessly trampling over someone repeatedly, you would’ve been crowned winner a long time ago. You had no idea what came over you as you spat all those hurtful words to Satoru, but did your words bear no truth? The fact that he no longer defended himself meant he also knew that he wasn’t worth it – that he wasn’t someone to be trusted. It wasn’t that you were completely unfair too; of course you considered it. Weeks of living under the same roof as him and you most definitely considered it. Say you did get married and became a real family – what then? It wasn’t a marriage out of love, but rather out of responsibility and obligation.

As much as you loved your child, you couldn’t imagine throwing away your future and living miserable for the rest of your life like that.

A life built on lies wasn’t a life worth living.

“I would never hurt you.”

Your heart cracked. After everything you said, after all your efforts to keep him away from your own safety, after all the hurtful things you’ve done to him, and he was still apologizing? Why did he have to make it so hard to let go? You were tired, so tired that you could no longer refrain your lip from quivering as tears caked your face.

“Gojo, please, don’t—”

“So if me stepping away from your life is what would really make you happy, then I’ll respect it. But there’s one thing I have to ask,” Satoru swiped a thumb under your eye to catch the tear. His smile was forlorn, his touch cold and words melancholic. “Do you want the baby? Do you...want to keep the baby and be a mother? You don’t have to do anything for me, I just want to know if the mother of my child even wants to be one. And please be honest, because everything you say right now are words that I’ll mark seriously.”

The word left your mouth before you could stop it.

“No.”

“No what?”

“I don’t want to be a mother,” you admitted, hands trailing over your belly. It felt like you were betraying your own child, but you hadn’t planned this. “I’m too young, Satoru, I-I’m not ready for this. With you there beside me or not, I really don’t want this.”

“Then,” he cleared his throat, turning his head to the side to catch a moment. You swore you saw his eyes shine under the city lights with tears, but it was gone so soon that you might’ve just fooled yourself with it. Once he deemed himself ready to talk, Satoru took a deep breath. “Do I have your consent that once the baby is born...it’ll be under my care? Would you prefer to reach your own dreams, then? You’ll never have to be a part of the Gojo family if it’s really not what you want, even though I could support you as much as you need me to.”

Your eyes widened at his proposition. “You’ll take care of our baby?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Can I...can I visit them, at least, once in a while?” It was more than just your heart that broke that night. There was no telling whether you’d hurt yourself in the long run with this decision. It was no easy choice to make – to actively pursue your dreams somewhere else more than being a mother. You wanted to do your best, of course you did, but it wasn’t that easy. Gojo didn’t have to tell you for you to understand that once you married him, you’d be expected to run the business with him and be involved in his family and their dramas. Now that wasn’t a life you wanted.

“You’re free to visit them whenever,” he promised, voice fading even lower into the background. “So is this it? We’ll just be living under the same roof until the baby is born and once they’re here...”

“We’ll part ways.”

“We’ll part ways,” he nodded in agreement, sniffling for a brief second before fixing his tie. The Gojo Satoru you got to know for a few weeks had now disappeared. Not even the goofy boss you spent seven years with could be found in the coldness of his eyes, almost as if he’d put up such impenetrable walls around him and nothing could pass through. The sudden shift in aura made your heart clench as he offered his hand to shake. “Okay. Let’s stay professional until then?”

“Yeah, Sir, I can do that,” your hands shook as you enclosed it around his, but now all the warmth had disappeared – from his eyes, his touch, his soul. It hurt, but this was necessary. It was what felt right. “Thank you – for everything.”

“You’re welcome. Anything for you and the baby,” Satoru proclaimed, perplexing you both when he suddenly pulled you in his arms. Just like that, the dam broke, and you were staining his precious suit before you could stop it. His arms rubbed up and down your back the longer he held you there, almost like a final moment to lean on one another before you had to say goodbye eventually. Beneath your palm, his heart beat exuberantly loud, so much so that you might’ve heard the prayers it whispered. “Stop crying now. The baby might feel sad too. We’ll both be alright – we just have to get through this.”

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sitp-recs · 2 years ago

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can I just say that it pisses me off when fic reccers are forced to explain the reasons as to why they aren’t currently reading or reccing anything. honestly, y’all are doing god’s work anyway. I hate that you’re pressured to justify yourself, when you don’t owe us any explanation.

you’re all literally doing us a huge favour by simply existing and I hope you realise how precious you are. you never have to apologise for taking breaks or being busy because we (at least the sane ones) know that you have a whole life to live because let’s be real, as much as we wish it did, the fandom is not providing any remuneration.

so enjoy yourself and please don’t feel the slightest bit of guilt if you aren’t active enough, busy, taking a break or just don’t feel upto it. we will still love you as much as we ever did and who gives a fuck about what a bunch of losers with no life complain about.

as a reader, I barely have time to read fanfics, and you have to read it, add it to your master list with the appropriate tags and help people out by reccing it when they have an ask pertaining to it. so yeah, you’re doing much more than enough and what’s expected of you and we’re all eternally grate for you.

thank you and please have a stress free holiday month (I hope this fandom stays a place where you come to unwind, and not a source of much more stress than it has any right to be. the fandom is an escape, not a punishment)

I hope I didn’t come across as rude, that wasn’t my intention and hope you have a lovely day.

Thank you so much, anon! I appreciate the kind words, it means a lot and I know other reccers will share the sentiment 💜

I can’t speak for others but personally I have no complaints on that front - my followers have always been very supportive and undemanding, and any attempts to justify my absence come from my own insecurities telling me that my value is measured by how much I contribute to the fandom 🫠 it’s something I’ve identified a while ago and have been trying to address internally, but I still have a long way to go!

On a separate note, I also think there’s an undercurrent sense of desolation that runs deeper when you’re feeling disconnected from fandom. Growing pains but sometimes it’s hard to admit that those hobbies that used to bring you so much joy might not be what you need at a certain point in time. Even on my busiest months I used to see reading/reccing as some sort of therapy and felt really fulfilled but all of a sudden I’m so emotionally depleted that no fic can hold my attention or interest; I lose focus every 5 minutes and close tabs after reading a couple paragraphs and absorbing nothing, it’s a bit heartbreaking really.

Whether because it became another obligation, a new source of stress or just something we’re not in the mood for, every now and then a break is very much needed and as you pointed out, there’s no shame in that! But accepting that we can’t find what we need (and used to find, before) in fandom anymore might be an even harder pill to swallow 😔 but I digress, thanks again for sending this message! As I said I’m working some insecurities internally but in the meantime I really appreciate the patience and support everyone’s shown me!

#asks #anon

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red-dia · 2 years ago

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I think it’s crazy how Lapis was the last remaining Gem in the end. I really wish they could’ve done more with him. Considering how many deus ex machinas there were in the previous arc with how they could just revive all of the gems with no big deal, it’s surprising Ichikawa did not do this. I feel like there could’ve been more potential with Lapis especially with how he was so interested in the Lunarians and the truth behind their intentions, and I’m disappointed neither Cairn or Ghost really cared about the fate of their former partner. That was one of the biggest slaps in the face as someone who was so nervous to see after the long hiatus how Ghost and Cairn would interact with the topics of Cairn giving Lapis’ head to Phos, betraying Phos, Ghost in Cairn’s eyes, etc. .

But to be fair, I’d rather keep Lapis as a Gem who remained as a posthumous being with their complexities intact than rather sentence them to losing their multi faceted characterization like the majority of the Gems.

Very true! I feel like Lapis and Alex ended up being done dirty in similar ways because their "niche" (being the most interested in the lunarians and wanting to understand them more) ended up as... the norm, kinda? All the gems have accepted the lunarians, the lunarians are perfectly understood, there's nothing left for them to do, nothing to add to these dynamics.

About Cairn not really caring about Lapis' fate, I'm not too bothered by that, because it sort of feels like the natural trajectory of Cairn's arc. Everything about them is dictated by their existence as someone with no agency because of Ghost, who gains it suddenly under tragic circumstances, and latches onto other people who become their savior because they've never had this much freedom. You can see it with the way they try to please Phos (gifting them Lapis' head, going along with their plans even when they clearly don't like it) but immediately abandons them as soon as Aechmea appears and promises he can make them truly free. Whether Cairn was influenced by Ghost being in their eyes isn't very relevant, because either way, they immediately try to distance themselves from Ghost as much as they can. Cairn can't stand the idea of being manipulated (which is ironic given that, y'know, (gestures at moon guy)), and will try to move on from their past self at any cost. I think trying to forget Lapis is mostly coherent with this idea, since they associate Lapis with Ghost. But again, this topic was pretty much left untouched, you can occasionally see them doing something reckless because of Aechmea and then it's buried by three pages of them being loveydovey

But yeah, a lot of these choices feel very arbitrary (like deciding that the dusted gems could be retrieved, including Antarc, but not Ghost or Lapis apparently). Honestly, I'm mostly sad the story moved on so fast because it's not even about these points being solved, it's about them not even being brought up, and knowing there's a 0.5% chance they'll ever be elaborated on :/ But that's how it is I guess

#i don't mean to be too negative lol but since hnk was so good for so long im a bit disappointed that i gave it benefit of the doubt and #expected it to go somewhere and it just... didn't #the earth gems chapters used to be my favorite but all that conflict was lost so fast! and going to the moon didn't help #and i was expecting some kind of commentary on the apathy of leaving your land to flee some war and losing all sense of time #kinda like when the lunarians were introduced #but i guess not so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#asks

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nat-20s · 3 years ago

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8 for jmart?

#8- constantly cheacking their messages for words from the other

what else was I gonna do? here's some classic ol' season 3 pining babey

Hello Martin. This is Jon. I have gotten a new phone after losing my last one, please put in the new number.

It's a simple message. Straightforward, factual, and utilitarian. There is no reason that pressing send should make his heart race. There's especially no reason that the second he sends it off, he's tempted to lie on the deeply uncomfortable, likely bedbug infested motel mattress staring at his screen until he gets a response. Sure, he's sick of being overseas, and he's sick of being so isolated, and he's sick of running, but he's not...desperate for what little companionship can even be provided by words on a screen.

He does miss Martin, though. He misses Tim as well, but in a manner that's significantly more complex and knotted than the simple desire to be around him.

God, when did he start wanting to just be around Martin? He started being aware of that want when he was at Georgie's, but he has no idea when the want itself actually started. That was probably something he should examine. Technically speaking, that is something that he has time to examine, but he doesn't want to examine right now. Right now, he wants the comfort of perhaps one of the only people out there that doesn't want to kill him, or use him, or both.

Martin, whether through somehow sensing Jon's discontent from nearly 4000 miles away or, more likely, through a general dutifulness inherent to his character, only takes a few minutes to reply. Oh good! it'd been a little bit since hearing from you, we were somewhat worried. putting you in my contacts as we speak :)!

Saying that "we" were worried is almost certainly generous on Martin's part, but Jon feels no need to point that out. Instead he turns on his side and stares at the phone. He particularly focuses on the smiley face, ridiculously charmed by the fact that, despite everything, Martin hasn't lost his predilection for emojis. Two years ago, he would've rolled his eyes, maybe thought something snide about professionalism. It wouldn't have been fair, as Tim used to do the same thing and he thought nothing of it, but he wasn't fair back then. Now, he simply wonders if he can get away with sending one back.

Before he can respond, Martin sends another message. Are you actually alright? I realized I was kind of assuming that losing your phone was the only reason you were MIA, but is anything else going on?

Damn. He tends to forget how perceptive Martin can be. What, exactly, Martin had perceived in that first message, Jon couldn't be sure, but apparently there was something that tipped him off to the..eventful last week he'd had. He really, really doesn't feel like getting into all of that right now, especially not over text, so instead he replies a mostly truthful I'm fine.

Then, squinting at the screen and realizing that might come across as a dismissal, he adds, Well, other than trying not to contemplate the general sanitation practices of a motel that clearly hasn't updated it's decor since the 70s. I'm suspecting the sheets are much the same.

He doesn't know how Martin will react to the message. He can't see the face he'll make, won't know the tone of his voice. However, he likes to imagine that Martin will at least smile. Maybe he'll even give that breath of a laugh, the one that sometimes happens when Jon's being lightly acerbic and it's not directed at him. He doesn't know, but he does hope for it. Martin texts back Oof. Maybe sleep on top of the covers tonight, yeah?, and Jon thinks that he might have guessed Martin's reaction correctly.

Christ, who knew all it took was a combination of jetlag and threats to turn him into a sap. He needs to sleep. He really needs a deep, proper, uninterrupted sleep, one lasting a minimum of eight hours and ideally closer to fifteen. Checking the time, it would be a fairly reasonable time to sleep, especially with the early start he has tomorrow. He considers sending off a quick good night message, but then has the realization that as reasonable as it is for him to be asleep right now, it's just as unreasonable for Martin to be awake. Are you alright? Good lord, Martin, it's almost 4am over there. Did I wake you?

Barely 30 seconds pass before he gets back no, you're good!

A beat, then a follow up message. I've had a irregular sleep schedule since I was like 16. A lot of evening and night shifts had a lasting impact u know? Working at the institute made it a bit more consistent but it's still p rare that i sleep the same eight hours night to night.

Jon's starts to text back something sympathetic; he's had his own struggles with both in- and hyper- somnia, but his phone buzzes in his hand before he can finish it.

Sorry! That was uh probably more information than you wanted.

Well, that just won't do. Even if there wasn't a part of his brain that had recently started collecting facts about Martin like they were precious jewels instead of mostly mundane stories, he doesn't want Martin to think he can't talk to him about things outside of the standard bounds of coworkers. Not at all. We're friends, Martin, I enjoy learning about you.

His brain wants to catastrophize the second he presses send. For the first minute that Martin doesn't reply, he doesn't let it. After the second minute, he allows the minor worry to become more severe. Had it been too much? Were they friends? Jon certainly thought so, but what if Martin wasn't in the same boat? Their interactions had been entirely friendly for months now, but what if that was just Martin being polite? God, what if Martin still thought of Jon as his boss, nothing more?

Ten minutes. It takes ten minutes for Martin to finally respond, and Jon has almost called him four times to explain himself. Ten minutes, and the first response is only Oh!

Then: Cool

Well, that's not a "piss off and die", but it's not exactly comforting. Jon doesn't know how to reply, staring at the words on his screen and not entirely sure if he's fucked up or not. Fortunately, Martin's not done responding, and the next message is much, much better.

Hey uh. Feel free to say no I know it's getting late over there but. Im not getting back to sleep for the rest of the day and itd be nice to actually hear you. Would you be okay with a call?

Without a moment's hesitation, he texts back Yes!, exclamation and all, because he's become someone he barely recognizes. The phone rings just as immediately, and he feels his entire body relax at Martin's first "Hello?"

Things are difficult right now. Things have been difficult ever since the promotion that was a curse in disguise. The world is filled with monsters he barely understands. He wishes he was home despite the fact that he barely recognizes it, as filled with tension and strife as it is. There's so much to discuss, so many things they should be hammering out. But right now, the threats are not pressing. Right now, he can hear about the bad true crime documentary Martin half-watched before he got Jon's texts, and Jon can bitch about the three different "pip pip cheerio" comments he's gotten since coming over seas. Right now, and for the hour before Jon drifts off, breathing slow and deep, he can pretend that this is an ordinary phone call, in an ordinary world, between two people who simply miss each other an extraordinary amount.

#replies #elfgrunge #jonmartin #tma #jon sims #martin blackwood #fluff prompts #'this story has been told before' AND IT'LL BE TOLD AGAIN!!

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lunarblazes · 3 years ago

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hello hermitblr! today pearl uploaded an episode in which she built a statue on top of her base that depicted a creature known as a windigo. now, a few people may have also had a similar reaction to me, which was to say “hm. aren’t you not supposed to use that creature in things?” and if you haven’t, you’re probably wondering what everyone’s so upset about. so here’s a post about it! (putting it below the cut because i do use the name of the creature, so if that squicks you out, do not look! also, it’s decently long, so. that too.)

before we start, i’d like to say that i am not algonquian or native american in any way and i will not be providing any opinion of my own in this post. i’ve made an effort to only summarize an academic essay i could find written on why western depictions of windigos as a “halloween monster” type deal are problematic for the cultures in which they originate. i’d also like to say that it’s not my place to be mad at pearl or anything like that, nor am i; most americans (and canadians, i think the algonquian tribes extend into canada as well, but because i’m american i’m focusing more on that aspect for the purposes of this post) don’t know about the problems associated with using windigos in creative media, let alone australians! this post is just here to share a resource i found helpful in understanding windigos, the culture behind them, and why mainstream depictions sometimes upset people of the algonquian collective of tribes. i wish i had more resources to share, but alas, one of the most-cited works of academia on the topic is 27 dollars to download and i am a teenager without a job so. yeah. if anyone has more papers to add, feel free! this post will focus on a specific essay i found by kallie hunchman of ball state university.

i also know pearl responded to concerns in her youtube comments asking if calling the creature an onyx deer would help distinguish it from the myth, which is great for her to acknowledge, but unfortunately i’m not super qualified to say whether that action is a step in the right direction or not. i’m going to provide the facts i have and she can come to her own conclusions if she sees this post, as can all of you! feel free to add resources in reblogs as you see fit, and remember to listen to alonquin voices about the issue when doing research. it’s hard to learn about indigenous perspectives in a post-columbian society, but the best way to do it is from the people themselves, if you can track down such sources. i have heard of the superstition around saying the name of this creature, as well, but for the sake of clarity and because my source essay uses it, i will be using it in this post. if that bothers you, please feel free to click off, and i’m super sorry :^(

so! with that said. here is the link to the essay that i will attempt to summarize here: https://openjournals.bsu.edu/dlr/article/download/DLR.7.0.101-112/1771/. it’s a really well written and clear essay, i would highly recommend giving it a read. obviously, it doesn’t speak for all native people on the topic of the windigo (and neither do i, obviously), but i thought it was very useful to understand why the creature is misused and how it came to be originally.

hunchman’s explained definition of the windigo is either a supernatural cannibalistic spirit representing division among a person and their community or a person and their own soul/morals or a person who has been turned into a windigo by such spirit. windigos are always hungry, greed personified, and are sometimes portrayed without lips because they’ve eaten them in their eternal hunger. the original story of the windigo was used in a diverse group of different american tribes, known as the algonquian tribes, as a moral lesson to teach children of how devastating the consequences of forsaking family and friends and one’s own spiritual consciousness can be. these tribes feared the creatures so much that in some cases they avoided speaking its name aloud to prevent being infected by one, hence why people don’t say windigo now (and why i put that disclaimer at the beginning of the post). windigos are always depicted as entirely human in their native stories; emaciated, giant humans, but never with deer horns, skulls, or any fur or animal features. the humanity of the windigo is integral to respecting the origins of the creature.

the problem with using windigos as they are depicted in popular western media, according to hunchman, is that the popular, animalistic, inhuman depictions of windigos are a product of racist stories and ideologies that sought to dehumanize the tribes from which the windigo’s story came. by making the windigo synonymous with the algonquian tribes, the concept of wildness and insanity, and with animalistic traits like deer horns, fur, and claws, many authors succeeded in taking the tribes’ moral lesson and turning it into a raging anti-colonialist danger to white towns. the transformation of the windigo into a halloween monster with antlers and a thirst for blood, an entity of the wild, is a result of white americans trying to profit off of the perceived “otherness” of the natives by comparing them to things like werewolves, yetis, and vampires.

furthermore, there may be legal basis for tribes in the united states to be unhappy with the mainstream use of the windigo. native american tribes maintain the right to permit who uses their stories, how they use them, and why, but in the case of the popular windigo, the tribes from which it hails had no say in how their beliefs were used. writers like stephen king were able to profit off of it because it was considered a “mainstream” monster. (luna’s note here: i’m unsure about this last bit, hunchman didn’t go into much detail about it, but this was my understanding. please read the essay for more clarification)

tl;dr: the windigo has been systematically changed by racist authors to reflect a “creature of the wild” and an animalistic spirit rather than a very human cautionary tale, and the original story has very little ground to stand on in the pop culture interpretations. the problem is not the general usage of the windigo (at least, as hunchman says), it’s that the creature people say is a windigo is a racist caricature of an algonquian story about humanity and the importance of community.

(luna ending note: because this particular interpretation of the windigo is the problem, i’m inclined to draw the conclusion that pearl taking that interpretation for inspiration in her onyx deer is not the right solution, but i definitely appreciate that she’s listening to her audience and their concerns. again, i’m not algonquian or native, and it’s not my place to guide her actions! i’d encourage you all to read up on the topic if you can. it’s very informative and good to know in general :^D any corrections on this post are super welcome if you have experience with the spirit or if you want to correct any of my wording! i’m not very experienced in the topic, clearly, but i do like reading things and writing essays, so. yeah)

#hermitcraft #pearlescentmoon #discourse #DO NOT flood her tag with posts about this guys #i just wanted to maintag this one to get the information to her #i don’t want to bombard her with anything or stress her out over something she just genuinely didn’t know #and as always please listen to the people affected by the misuse of this creature #i’m not one of those people #i just wanted to make sure that i wasn’t like going crazy when i was weirded out by the statue lol and i found a good resource worth sharin #so. yeah! woof this is a long one

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songbirdstyles · 4 years ago

Text

rock you (like a hurricane)

summary: you hate harry and he hates you. the two of you decide to channel it into something good.

warnings: hate-fucking, choking, dirty talking, breathplay

word count: 2.3k

song inspo.: rock you like a hurricane - scorpions

His hand around your throat is brutal - nearly violent, to be truthful - and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it.

Your vision clouds as Harry’s grasp tightens and for a moment you wonder if he’ll go all the way, make you pass out and collapse into his arms like a damsel in distress and you’re not sure you’d hate it - you hate the way his thigh is pressed between your legs even more, his free hand gripping your hips and forcing them to rock over his jean covered skin, panties all but soaked with the arousal he’s mustered up.

You should be embarrassed. God, don’t you hate him? You hate that he’s so cocky, that he thinks he’s always right, that he can’t stand ever letting you have the spotlight. It’s always about him and you want to reach up and smack that smug smirk across his face as he grins down at you, his eyes burning with a mixture of hatred and straight fiery lust and you’re sure the combination is reflected in your face. Yes, you hate him more than you’ve hated anyone else but you can’t stop the moan from forcing its way from your throat as his grip loosens for just a second, allowing you to suck in one deep breath of air before his hand closes again, and you drop your hands from clutching his biceps to the button and zipper on his jeans.

“God, you’re impatient,” Harry murmurs, eyes flitting down to where you’re shakily unzipping his pants, a task made even more difficult by the way he positively refuses to stop rocking his thigh into your cunt and you add the incessant teasing motion to your growing list of reasons you should spit in his face. You drop your head back against the wall he has you pressed up against as his head drops to suckle a hickey into your neck, and his next words are muffled against your skin. “Gonna cream y’pants jus’ from grindin’ against m’thigh, are you?”

Your chest heaves as you reach down, grabbing the waistband of his pants and boxers and tugging them down his hips and you relish in the soft hiss he releases into your neck - “Fuck you,” you breathe, wrapping your fist around his cock and squeezing hard enough to hear him yelp into your neck before beginning to pump him up and down, hips still jerking against his thigh. “I hate you -”

“Yeah, I’ll fuck you -”

It’s such a cliche rebuttal that you could nearly laugh but then Harry drops his leg from between your thighs and you stumble forward into him - barely a moment goes by before he pushes you fully up against the wall, hand on your neck sliding to your thigh and forcing your leg up around his hip. It’s a position you’d have taken anyway but you hate him bossing you around and if you had any more willpower you’d thrust your leg back down, but then he’s pulling your skirt up around your waist and hooking your panties to the side and - well - it’s not in you to care too much.

Your breath hitches in your throat as Harry’s finger dips through your soaked folds, collecting the moisture on the tip of his finger before focusing it on your clit. His digit swirls over the sensitive nub and your hips buck into his hand - you can practically feel his smirk before you glance back at him and confirm it for yourself. “S’all for me?” he questions, voice high pitched and mocking and you squeeze your eyes shut, pussy fucking throbbing for him and why does he have to be such an asshole all the fucking time -

You’ve never hated anyone more than him, and yet you’ve never wanted someone to fuck your brains out more than him, either.

“Gonna have t’tell me what y’want,” he tells you, finger pressing harder on your clit and you clench around absolutely nothing, a whine forcing its way from your throat into the thick air of your hotel room. “Want me t’finger you ‘till y’cum?”

“No,” you refuse, swiping your thumb along the slit of his dick and you can hear the way he tries to suppress his moan but he doesn’t try hard enough - “No, Harry, please.”

“What d’you want?”

“Harry -”

“Tell me.”

It’s humiliating and you can tell he gets off on it, watching you squirm under his gaze and you can’t meet his eyes as you moan, “Fuck me, please!”

It’s embarrassment coursing through your body at his chuckle, practically overflowing with cockiness and overconfidence and you wish you weren’t so fucking needy for him. Wish you could knock him down a peg, try your hardest to look unsatisfied after, but simply judging from the way he thrusts into you - hard and forceful, hand pulling your leg further up his waist to push himself deeper inside of you - you know that you’re nowhere near that decent of an actress.

The pair of you moan in unison, his raspier and deeper and yours mixed with a strangled sob as your cunt pulses with need, his fingers briefly halting their movements on your clit but you don’t quite need the extra stimulation - you’ve been with plenty of guys before, had all shapes and sizes inside of you and holy shit it’s never felt this good - and as he pulls out and thrusts back in, hitting spots you never even knew existed you toss your head back, a needy cry falling from your throat once more.

He doesn’t bother taking it slow - there’s no easy beginning so you can get used to his size, slow thrusts picking up into rapid slaps of skin against skin, and instead he pulls out and slams back into you with the force of a thousand suns, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world about whether you need a second to adjust. And you’d rather throw yourself out of the seventh story window than admit to him he’s the biggest guy you’ve been with so you take the brief moment of discomfort and - well - it doesn’t really matter, anyway, as it develops into a pleasure so overwhelming you can nearly taste it on your tongue and you clench around his cock, swallowing the cry in your throat.

“Fuck -” Harry groans, head dropping into your neck again and instead of feeling his lips on your skin it’s his teeth, nibbling at the column of your throat and you tilt your head to the side, giving him easier access, “ - such a tight fuckin’ hole f’me, aren’t you?”

“I - I fucking hate you -” you mutter through gritted teeth, moan bubbling in the back of your throat but you force it back. You hate giving him the satisfaction of knowing how fucking good he’s making you feel but you’re sure he can tell anyway - it isn’t as though you dripping onto his cock is too easy to hide.

“Moan f’me,” he tells you, lifting his head up so his eyes can meet your glare and one particular slap of his hips into yours has your mouth dropping open in a desperate moan and the hardened facade you’d been trying to maintain falls away as easy as it had appeared. “Yeah, tha’s good. Want everyone in this fuckin’ hotel to know how hard you’re gettin’ fucked.”

Shut up, you want to tell him but you can’t muster up the words to do it - do you like hearing him talk like that to you? It’s starting to seem like it and maybe you should be embarrassed but no, you really like it. Instead you raise your arms to wrap around his wrist where his fingers are still pressed to your clit and his eyes move up to meet yours. “Choke me, Harry, please.”

God, he looks like a little kid on Christmas at the words - though you’ve never seen a little kid look quite so arrogant - and you hardly needed to finish the request before his hand raises to your throat, fingers wrapping around your neck as yours loosen around his wrist. It’s what you craved, feeling his palm around your throat restricting your airflow in a way that’s so fucking spectacular you see stars, and it’s just about worth the mocking in Harry’s voice. “This is what y’needed, hmm? Needed me to choke you - like a little slut, hmm?” And when you don’t respond immediately his grip loosens and you groan.

You nod vehemently and Harry’s grasp tightens to the point it was at before, grip on your neck holding your head to the wall as his hips pick up their pace slamming into your cunt with no mercy, as if you’re merely a hole for him to fuck and not a person but surely the way your veins jump against his hand is proof enough that you’re real.

There’s no holding back from then on, cries and gasps and moans filling the thick air of the hotel room but the sound of skin hitting skin overpowers it all - there’s a soft ringing in your ears whenever Harry tightens his grip just so and it’s like music to your fucking ears - feeling like you’re about to pass out had never felt so fucking good but he makes it so good. Always loosens up just before you reach that point (and you suppose you should be grateful for that but you can’t bring yourself to be) and you have to shut your eyes so you don’t see that fucking smirk as you heave for air.

“M’gonna cum,” he hisses, hiking your leg further up his waist when it begins to slide down - the burn in your muscles only adds to your heightening pleasure. “Want me t’fill y’up, hmm, like the whore you are? Yeah, tha’s wha’ I thought.”

Your shaking hand slides down your stomach to toy with your clit, pinching the sensitive nub and your body jerks into his, hips pressing forward in a way that pushes him deeper inside of you and you’re so close - all you need is one final push and you know you’ll be there, quivering beneath him like a fucking dumbass and scavaging for whatever remains of your dignity after having your brains fucked out by the man you hate most in the world and you don’t look forward to the aftermath but God, feeling him fill you up over and over is worth whatever happens after, isn’t it?

His grip loosens just as your vision starts to go hazy and you gasp in a breath before tightening your grip on his wrist, keeping his hand from returning to your throat briefly and you can sense his confusion. His eyes narrow down into yours as his hips pick up speed and you’ve never hooked up with him before but you’ve been with enough guys to know he’s almost there - so close it’s overwhelming, the urge to release like an instinct - so you shakily steady your breathing, throat already beginning to feel sore from the intensity of the noises you’d been producing before breathing, “Fucking - fucking cum in me, Harry. I want you to.”

You can tell it’s the confirmation he needed and he doesn’t respond, merely shakes off your grip on his wrist and slams down on your throat again as he buries himself inside of you to the hilt. Bottoms out fully, your bodies so close you can feel his heartbeat through his shirt and that’s when you cum, orgasm washing through you like a tidal wave intent on destruction and that’s exactly what it gets - it’s euphoria running through your veins, legs shaking and eyes blurring and you could nearly collapse into him but Harry’s holding you up - both by his hand on your throat and the one grasping your leg. Then he cums, hot ribbons of cum spurting deep inside of you and it only prolongs your orgasm, hearing him gasp and groan like you’ve never heard him before.

You feel high as a goddamn kite when Harry pulls out of you. It’s a feeling of emptiness that you despise, cunt pulsing on its own as he takes a step away from you and you nearly fall to the ground trying to take a step - he doesn’t turn around, doesn’t seem to particularly care, and that’s fine. You’re, truthfully, perfectly content with having him get the hell out of your room and not having to see him again until morning, especially when he turns back around to watch you stumble your way over to your bed, skirt still hiked high up on your hips and exposing your lower body to him.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter when you finally seat yourself on the edge of the bed, attempting to discreetly perch yourself so it doesn’t hurt - you’ve never been railed quite this hard and you’ve never experienced the aftermath of having it ache, just a tad, to sit - but you can tell by the way Harry’s eyes flit towards you, brows raising just a tad as he pulls up his boxers and jeans that he noticed the motion. And that makes you angry all over again, reminds you of exactly why you hated him enough to let him screw your brains out, and you collapse onto your back with a dramatic sigh. “You know, I’ve had better sex.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Harry tells you, and you can’t help the smile from pulling your lips upwards as you hear the door to your room open and shut in quick succession.

#harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles drabble #this is an edited excerpt from a spy au i started but never finished lolll #i might finish it at some point but here you go #completely unedited

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mercy-burning · 4 years ago

Text

Win Me Back

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: When Reader’s ex-boyfriend comes back to town, he finds a way to make amends— with a little help from her niece.

Category: FLUFF

Warnings: None other than a few swears :)

Word Count: 3k (I barely made the limit, folks, that was hard lol)

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This is my entry for @homoose ‘s 2k Celebration!! And if this fic seems familiar, that may be because it’s a re-telling of the car-wash scene from Ramona and Beezus 🤭😂 It’s one of my favorite movie scenes of all time, it never fails to make me squeal, and I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!

Also! I tried very hard to find the scene for you to watch incase you haven’t seen the movie, but the ones I did manage to find on YouTube cut out THE BEST PARTS, so I’m sorry 😭 But in case you want to know the ~vibes~ I tried to capture and don’t feel like watching the movie, I made THIS post last night with some dialogue/background from the scene if you’d like to read it! Obviously it’s not required since what I’ve written is quite different, but it is encouraged 😊

I hope you like it!! And if somehow you haven’t followed Moose yet, you should! She’s the sweetest ❤❤❤

***

Y/N found an abundance of upsides to taking neighborhood walks with her niece. For one thing, it gave her a distraction, something to focus on as she made sure eight-year-old Piper wouldn't wander too far from the sidewalk. She found solace in quizzing her on the multiplication table as they made their way around the block, an activity in which Piper enthusiastically flaunted her love of numbers.

It was also nice to stay outside and take in the warm sun and soft rustling of the trees, though every once in a while all of it wasn't enough to keep the memory of Spencer at bay.

After all, it was kind of hard when he was back in town, and after all these years he was reaching out to her like he hadn't broken her heart in the first place.

"You seem sad, Auntie," Piper said, grabbing Y/N's hand as the turned the corner.

Y/N swung their arms together gently, smiling down at her with a tilt of her head. "Why d'you think that, hon?"

Piper gave a little shrug, her ponytail blowing softly behind her. "You don't smile as much. And you always smile when you're with me... And you asked me the same times equation 3 times in a row just now. You're distracted."

Y/N couldn't help the breathy laugh that escaped her. You sound just like Spencer... Instead, she told her, "Aw, I'm sorry, Kiddo. My mind is just in a... confusing place right now. But I'm very happy that you got to come stay with me this weekend, you always brighten my day." She punctuated her sentence with a little boop on Piper's nose, to which she giggled and asked for another math equation.

The two of them continued around the block a few rounds, though on their fourth and final one, Y/N noticed very familiar car parked just outside her house.

Heart jumping into her throat, she stopped in her tracks, and Piper kept going only to be pulled back slightly. The girl turned to her aunt and furrowed her brow. "Auntie, why did we stop?"

"Um... I just wasn't expecting any company today besides you..."

Y/N certainly wasn't ready to discuss everything that was going on with Spencer to anyone, let alone her eight-year-old niece who wouldn't probably understand or care anyway. So she explained it the best way she could, quickly coming up with a plan to avoid him as long as possible.

"See the car parked over there?" Y/N asked, and Piper nodded. "Well, that's an... old friend of mine... And we haven't talked in a long time because we don't really get along anymore. So when we get up to the house, he might try to talk to us, and I'm going to tell him that we're busy."

"He's not mean, is he?"

Sensing Piper's reservations, Y/N reassured her while letting her own contempt for her ex fuel the conversation. "No, but... He broke my heart. And he—"

"Y/N... Hi..."

She nearly jumped, mostly from surprise, but also at the fact that hearing her name coming from his lips and his voice and just him brought back a flood of feelings she'd rather have forgotten. Still, she turned to him and cleared her throat. "Spencer... Hi."

Piper suddenly let go of Y/N's hand, a small scoff escaping her. "Oh. Spencer..."

The two adults turned to look at her with surprise, though it was Spencer who spoke up. "You... know me?"

"Mhm," Piper returned with a nod, crossing her arms. "I heard Mom and Auntie talk about you yesterday, and she says you have a stupid, beautiful face."

"Piper!" Y/N screeched, heat rising to her face. "I... You can't tell people that, I— That's not... I..."

"Oh... I'm sorry, Auntie," the little girl said quietly.

Y/N was fully prepared to dig a hole and stay buried in it forever, and her embarrassment grew even stronger when Spencer spoke up again. "It's okay," he reassured gently, a small laugh sounding from his throat that regrettably gave Y/N butterflies. "You're auntie's definitely right, I do have a stupid face."

Before Y/N could stop the conversation altogether, Piper cut in quickly, being sure to add, "And beautiful."

Spencer's eyes flicked up to Y/N, drawing her in with amusement and charm, a fact which she hated to her core. Because it was working, and that was annoying as hell. "Yep," he said, never taking his eyes off of her. "And beautiful."

And then the corner of his mouth turned up slightly, flashing her the most amused, stupidly perfect smirk.

Piper started talking again, and for the second time that day, Y/N wished she hadn't even said anything at all, keeping this whole situation to herself.

"But we can't talk to you, because you broke Auntie's heart, and we're busy. C'mon, Auntie. Let's go." Piper grabbed Y/N's hand and led her up the rest of sidewalk until they got to the driveway. And even though it might have been childish to completely ignore Spencer as they walked past, not giving him a second glance, quite frankly she was quick to abort the situation as soon as possible.

Unfortunately for her, Spencer was persistent.

They were almost to the steps up to the door when he called out. "Piper! Can I ask you something?"

The little girl turned around, losing grip of Y/N's hand and greeting his gaze without batting an eye. "Sure."

Damn kids and their willingness to be nice to strangers, Y/N grumbled in her head.

"I know... your auntie is an important person to you, right?" Spencer inquired, walking up the driveway with his hands in his front pockets. Y/N swallowed, most certainly not noticing how the sun perfectly highlighted him in a glow that made him look more beautiful than stupid.

Piper nodded.

"Well... She's important to me, too. And I really hurt her feelings, but I want to make it up to her. Would you be kind enough to let me try?"

Damn him, Y/N grumbled yet again. Damn him, damn him, damn him to hell... Why was he so charming?

He'd always known that kids were a soft spot for her, and when they'd dated, they talked a lot about having some of their own one day. Every time they took a walk in the park and they passed a kid, they always gravitated to Spencer, giving him the biggest smiles, and in turn he would give them a high five or perform a little magic trick to make them smile even wider. And Y/N melted into a damn puddle every time.

He knew exactly what he was doing, using Piper as a means to win her back, but even still, she knew that because of his gentle nature, most of it was... well, nature. Deep down, as much as she hated to admit it, she knew that he was a kind person. They may have ended things on bad terms, sure, and Y/N could pretend he was cruel all she wanted— The truth was that no matter how their relationship ended, he was a good man at heart.

And that's why it hurt so much.

Y/N thought for sure Piper would fall into his web, but she was pleasantly surprised when the girl responded with, "I don't know... I don't know if I trust you yet."

You and me both, Kiddo, Y/N thought to herself.

Spencer laughed again. "That's fair. Look, you can say no, but... How about I give you something in return?"

"Spencer, that's no—"

Piper crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side, interrupting Y/N before she could finish protesting. "How much we talking?"

"Piper!"

"Well, I was going to offer to show you a magic trick, but I suppose I could work you a deal... I only have a hundred bucks on me, would that be enough?"

Sure enough, Spencer pulled a one-hundred dollar bill from his pocket, and the young girl's eyes went wide. Y/N's did, too, but more likely than not it wasn't a means of excitement.

"You have yourself a deal!" Piper squealed with a jump. She ran over to take the money, meanwhile Spencer looked up at Y/N with a smile.

She didn't return it.

"Is there somewhere we can talk?" he asked softly. Kindly.

"Well, I'm babysitting Piper today, so you'll have to come back another time," she returned a little coldly, hoping that she and Piper had just scored a free Benjamin to pig out on ice cream while Spencer was left waiting forever for a conversation that was never going to happen.

Funny how eight-year-olds always had a way of making things more difficult for you.

"Auntie, Spencer and I made a deal. He gave me money, and now he has to make it up to you. Remember?"

Y/N groaned. "Yeah, yeah, I remember..."

"Well, how about I... take you guys out for lunch? My treat? If it's alright, we can go to McDonald's..."

"The one with the play place?" Piper gasped, immediately turning to Y/N. "Oh, Auntie, please can we go? Please, please, please?"

She looked up at Spencer, shaking her head in exasperation as he smiled at her, those sparkling honey eyes reeling her in whether she wanted them to or not. Then she turned to Piper and sighed.

"How fast do you think you can eat?"

***

Y/N was surprised Spencer didn't try to talk to her more on the drive over. Though, Piper did most of the talking, telling Spencer about how much she loved numbers and math, and he even quizzed her on some multiplication equations on the way.

If she wasn't so annoyed with him, Y/N would have melted completely.

It was the getting into the restaurant that worried her the most, though. She knew that once Piper ran off to play while they waited for their food, he would spend whatever short amount of time he had trying to win her back. And she was afraid of two things, mostly that she would end up crying in the restaurant, making a scene and wishing she'd never agreed to go, no matter how heart-broken Piper might have been. But there was also a small part of her, nestled deep into her heart, that was afraid she'd fall for him all over again.

He certainly made falling easy.

When the three of them stepped into the restaurant, it was easy to see how excited Piper was to be there. She gently tugged on Y/N's sleeve before looking up at her. "Nuggets, fries, and Sprite?"

"Apples, too, and you've got yourself a deal," Y/N said.

Piper nodded, not really caring but eager to go and play. So she sighed and nodded, leaving her with a, "Be careful!" as she saw the girl quick-walk over to the play area. There was a decent crowd that day, but thankfully no one in the restaurant seemed to have any grievances or knacks for trouble.

Spencer on the other hand... Y/N scoffed to herself, thinking how he was the most troublesome person in the area.

He proved her point by nudging her with his elbow. "She's a fun one."

"Yeah, she's somethin' alright," Y/N grumbled. "I can't believe you bribed her just to talk to me... If I didn't know better, I'd have thought you were being romantic. But I do know better, and you're just stubborn."

Spencer laughed, but she refused to look at him. "Aw, come on, give me some credit. You know I can be a little of both."

This time Y/N did look at him, squinting in a glare, like she was contemplating. "Eh... five to ninety-five. Leaning in favor of stubborn, of course."

"Obviously." The amusement in his voice made her hate his stupid, beautiful face even more than usual.

Thankfully he kept the conversation short after that, at least until they ordered. Since it was Spencer's treat, she milked his wallet for as much as she could afford to on fast-food. She ordered a large chocolate milkshake and enough food for her and Piper to share for dinner later— and probably lunch the next day, too. The amused chuckle Spencer let out as she was ordering did have her believing maybe she was being a bit childish. But the longer she thought about it, the more she stood by her actions.

He did break her heart after all. The least he could do was compensate through chicken nuggets and French fries.

The only thing she didn't count on, though, was how long it was going to take to make all her food, not to mention getting things done for other people. As she and Spencer made their way to the table, she realized she'd have to talk with him longer.

Spencer took advantage of this, naturally.

"So... How've you been?"

Y/N scoffed. "You show up out of the blue five years after you break up with me, and then have the nerve to ask me how I've been, in a McDonald's? Yeah, I've been great."

He sighed, his eyes flitting down to the table. "I know, I'm... I'm sorry. And I know I should have—"

"Spence, please don't... Look, I know... I know why we broke up, and I came to terms with the fact that your job was just to dangerous for us to be together, but... I mean, you weren't even willing to work it out, you just... ran away. That hurt."

"Y/N... I'm so, so sorry that it happened that way. I think about it almost every day and how much I wish I could have changed it..."

"But you can't change it. And now you... you show up here after all this time to—to what? Win me back? Use your kindness and your charm to reel me back in, like that'll somehow make everything better?"

He looked up at her through his eyelashes, the sight almost breaking her. "Maybe..."

"It's not that I don't appreciate the thought, Spence, because I do... I've dreamt about the day you'd come back and apologize, begging me to take you back... But I can't get hurt again. And you have to understand that."

"I do... Just..." His hands reached out across the table, gently touching hers. The feeling sparked something in her, something nostalgic and warm...

Something that felt a lot like home.

He was going to continue his speech, but a knock on the glass separating them from the playroom on the other side jolted them apart. It was Piper, a stern look on her face. "Don't try anything, Mister... You're still on thin ice."

She turned away then, running back to the slide when Spencer sighed. "I thought we had a deal."

Y/N laughed, nodding at Piper through the glass. "Even a hundred bucks and free food isn't enough to win someone's trust." Spencer looked over at her and waited, visibly swallowing. But Y/N flashed the smallest of smiles before finishing, speaking quietly, yet with all the truth and firmness in the world. "You have to work harder than that."

"Duly noted," Spencer replied, his gaze never straying from hers. "Looks like me and my stupid, beautiful face have some work to do."

Y/N rolled her eyes, leaning back in the chair as Spencer grinned like a fool... A stupid, beautiful fool. "Oh, alright... You know what... If you weren't paying for my mountains of food and giving me a ride home, that thin ice you're on would have just shattered under the weight of that comment."

"Oh, come on, it was funny."

"No, it really wasn't."

"Yeah, it was."

He stared at her, smiling until her forced frown slowly and reluctantly transformed into a smile of her own.

***

"Thank you for lunch, Spencer! And for the hundred dollars!" Piper skipped past him and up the driveway, stopping to turn and wave with her Happy Meal toy in hand. Y/N was carrying a bag of leftover food and half a milkshake, her stomach already regretting every choice she'd ever made.

"You're welcome, Piper," Spencer said, smiling at the girl. "And thank you for letting me get a chance to set things right with your auntie. You really helped me out today, I appreciate it."

"Sure thing. Just don't break her heart again, or I'll break your stupid, beautiful face. It'll turn into a stupid, ugly face then."

Y/N mentally face-palmed herself, turning to Piper and telling her to go inside and wash up. The girl gave Spencer one final wave and a smile as she did so, leaving the adults alone once again.

"Thank you..." he said quietly, shifting on his feet. "For giving me a chance. I really want to make things right with us... Make up for the way I hurt you, and... try harder. You deserve that much."

Years of heartache and trying to get over him begged Y/N not to believe it, but deep down she knew he was being truthful. He wasn't the type of guy to come around like this—especially with all the work travel he did—just to manipulate her into heartache again, with empty promises and hurtful intent.

She knew he was really willing to try to make things right, and that was a big start.

"Thank you... for saying that... And for making Piper's day. I know you didn't really mean to bribe her, but the fact that you did it anyway is absurd, so... I guess I have to give credit where credit's due."

Spencer laughed, and this time Y/N didn't hate the feeling of the butterflies in her stomach fluttering at the sound. "Well, I'm glad I could at least amuse you today. Does... this mean my romantic to stubborn ratio shifted a little bit?"

Y/N rolled her eyes affectionately, taking a sip of her milkshake. "Hmm... twenty to eighty."

"Still leaning in favor of stubborn, I suppose..."

The smile they shared in that moment felt more like the ones they used to share back then, officially kickstarting the slow, meticulous mending of their love.

"Obviously."

***

TAGS NOT WORKING: @emilyprentisslittlewhore @takeyourleap-of-faith @s1utformgg

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes @rainsong01 @yourmisosoup @liveloudwriteloud @reidsconverse @la-vie-en-amour1 @edgycowboy666 @averyhotchner @centiaaa @lizziechaseee @coffeeandendlesswords @usuck

If you would like to be added to the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment, and I’ll add you

#mooselovescreators #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #criminal minds fanfiction

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stylistiquements · 3 years ago

Text

Day 1 : Soap Bubbles.

𐐪𐑂 Pairing : Sapnap x fem!reader {Playlist}

𐐪𐑂 Summary : You're being introduce to the internet in a peculiar way, it's up to you to decide what you're going to do with it.

𐐪𐑂 Word count : 1.4k | W: written part underneath

𐐪𐑂 Warning : very few swears

Masterlist | Previous | Next

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

The coffee that sinks inside your stomach brings out a grimace and a click of your tongue where the taste stains; too bitter, too acidic but you’ll drink it anyway and to the last drop; there is something about the idea of spending time with three best friends that is so made of spring and honey that you wish to miss none of it.

“Someone is lurking,” George contemplates out loud, and the call goes silent for a second as if to look for the intruder. And it would so easy to flinch, to hit the back pedal, because you almost feel like one being exposed front stage like that. But today- today is not that day.

It's not that you don't want to join the discussion, it's that it takes a second to warm up, to absorb the energy and become one with it.

And sometimes, all it takes is Sapnap to exclaim, “Panini head, my beloved!” for your smile synchronizes with his chuckles. Somehow, once noticed by the right person, life flows back naturally.

George and Dream greets you in trailing unison, like two kids forced to greet their unwelcomed aunt on a sunday afternoon.

“H-hey troublemakers,” you finally say. Your voice is still quiet, not reluctant, but rather uncertain. It doesn't bother anyone.

“I’m beating Dream’s ass at chess and he’s bitter,” Sap explains, and you silently nod, as if they were able to see you.

A long silence follows along, rythmed by clicks of mouses and keyboards and it falls in your ears like high droplets. It's comfortable. It's intimate, shared with friends only.

"We haven't heard from you in a while," Dream says. "I mean ... before the clout fiasco."

You wouldn't exactly call it a fiasco, even though you don't really like the idea of being perceived a little too closely from the eyes of twitter.com, but you do agree anyway, "I've been caught up on college essays lately."

"That sucks," George probably adds.

“Good thing you’re here, then,” Dream notes, simple as a breath. “This is a worry-free zone.”

It hovers for a second, carried by George’s approval hum.

You squint suspiciously, detective mode, at the profile pictures that light on and off before your eyes, “Thanks, dream.”

He scoffs a “sure” and you’re not sure why you sense a bit of irony stuck on the back of his teeth. You're so tempted to call him out, but you don't. Instead, you write a mental note of this odd moment.

“It’s because I told him about your three brothers and now he’s scared they’re gonna find him and kick his ass,” Sap explains as if he just read your mind.

Sometimes, there’s this thing in the air, though you’re miles away. Something like a connection. There’s this thing when you don’t need to talk for Sap to understand. Sharing one brain cell, you dismiss ironically. Probably coincidences and predictability, but it always sounds a little special, a little like something you’d wish to be out of this world, like morning dew and fairy circles. And it makes you feel safe, at home, just like snuggling up in the sheets during a stormy night. Your smile washes up the sleeve of your hoodie, covered palm carefully hiding your chuckles.

“Three older brothers,” George muses, and there’s no telling if it’s something meant for you to hear. “That’s kinda scary.”

“You better be scared, one of them is probably your FBI agent,” you tease mindlessly, though there's nothing scary about those three grown men.

“I’m British, Bunny,” he points out. Whether the exasperation in his tone is fake or genuine, that, you can’t tell, but you play it cool, grin carved so deep it almost hurts. Dream’s wheezes rise and fall in the background.

“Say that to his face then,” you outbid smirkingly after a second of silence, heels growing into the carpet to make your chair spin slowly left and right, so breezily.

“I’d praise you for the rest of my life if you-Oooooooh your ass is wacked. Your ass is so wacked, dude. You fucked up so bad,” Sapnap chokes out between strings of giggles.

“Oh no, my streamer is losing his game?” You theatrically pout. “My streamer Dreamwastaken, have you met him? Guess you don’t need any of my brothers to kick your ass.”

“Okay yeah- no- it’s not my fault if your- they’re distracting me, okay?” Dream defends.

Slowly, the energy lowers again and the call remembers peace as Dream admits defeat.

“I’m not playing against you anymore,” he mumbles through greeted teeth, your hoodie shelters a muffled giggle. “Let’s talk about y/n’s twitter fame instead.”

“Let’s just not-” you mutter, both because seeing Dream lose at something is a miracle that has to be witnessed once and because you’re somewhat reluctant. “Let’s just not talk about that.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I had no idea it would draw this much attention to you,” Sap admits.

“Well, you talk about her all the time it was only a matter of time before twitter finds out,” George taunts and you secretly smile, listening to the way your best friend tries to defend himself, mind flooded with the last memories you have of when you were able to see those chuckles for real.

“Yeah, Quackity already told me you guys talk behind my back,” you fakely muse. “That’s totally fine, I don’t wanna know what you guys are talking about at all.” It’s a lie, obviously, the idea creeps upon your mind with assumptions you can’t quite get a grip of nor let go.

“You and Quackity talk?’ Sapnap asks, hint of surprise, and you hum.

“Or rather, he talks to me. He keeps calling-.” Shit. The forsaken word traps itself into your mouth. It’s too silly anyway.

“Come on, just say it,” Dream pushes as if he knew too much, more than you even do, and your cheeks flush mindlessly. You don’t notice.

“Dream, quit it!” You demand.

“Quit what?”

“You talk as if you knew more than anyone did.”

“Maybe I just do,” he coos, so dream-like.

Oblivious or careless, Sapnap asks, “Is Quackity bothering you or something?”

“He-" you begin but stop to look for the right way to put it, "He triggers my flight or fight response.”

"I mean, duh," Sapnap probably rolls his eyes.

"But I like him. He's funny."

After a second of silence, George says, “Well that was unexpected.”

“Not so much, I think we’re both chaotic neutral people.”

“What is that neutral chaotic thing anyway?” Dream is confused.

Roll up your sleeve girl boss because now is your time to shine! You offer your best dream smp alignment chart to the classroom. They're speechless, but they listen carefully.

"Then you're more chaotic good than neutral. You're too sweet anyway," Sap says.

"I'd even say lawful good," George debates.

"That's because you haven't seen Bunny during her crazy cat hour."

"True," you note.

"She'll go absolutely batshit."

“What?" George burst between confusion and surprise. "We've never seen you like that."

"A lady never reveal her secrets," you retort. No one answer.

It leaves a second for your mind to enjoy peace. For your eyes to lay on c!tubbo on lawful good and think true, then on c!dream on chaotic evil and think also very true. You huff and it's like a wave; as sarcasm leaves your breath, an idea comes in.

"Sap, check your DMs," you request.

Surrounded by the evening lull, Sapnap’s laugh pops like soap bubbles, "God, you’re so stupid. Why can't you just marry me?"

“So, is it Sapnap approved?” You chuckle lightly to prevent Sapnap’s morning fresh laugh to fill your chest and leak everywhere.

“Just press ‘send tweet’ please,” he confirms with leftovers of a smile in his voice.

"George, get me out of here. They're doing it again," Dream whines.

"Doing what?" He asks, unbothered.

"Act like they're alone in the convo. Just get a room." And you don't get to stand up for yourself that you and your best friend are actually sent to another room.

"Well this one is chaotic evil confirmed," you mumble as you roll your eyes but the vibes are much peaceful, much more comfortable in here. "So ... hi."

"Hi," he chuckles in return.

Maybe that's for the best; a moment that needs to stay a little timeless, secretive and special. It hasn't happened in so long, you don't even remember the last time it did.

"I'm glad you're here. I miss you, you know?" He says, and it's hard to not feel so bittersweet about it. It's hard when longing involves a craved touch, a real smile and an eye contact. Your shoulder sinks in the chair a little harder.

"I miss you too. I'll be here soon," you promise. And soon couldn't come any sooner.

But the conversation, soft and free, will wash up any worries, as always, and you'll end up talking about everything and nothing, about streams and planned videos and college and god knows what. As long as it makes the two of you happy and smiling. Just like the old days, you'll both think and it's fair to say until the evening turns into night and night turns into fatigue.

"Are you sure you're okay about that clout?" He asks once again. "I know you don't like being exposed like that."

"Yeah, yeah don't worry too much about it. I'll try to make good use of it."

"I'm sure you will," he murmurs, but oh boy did he not know what was about to come until you two meet.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

Taglist : @open-minded-chip-101 ; @itsoakaa ; @gaysludge

A/N : so first of all it has come to my attention that 129 days from now on is actually my birthday so that's a weird coincidence lol. Hi how are you guys?? welcome to the first part I hope you liked it. I'm fairly new to the mcyt community and that's the first time I write for them, so bear with me. Feedbacks are always appreciated. Until next time (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)

#sapnap smau #smau #mcyt smau #sapnap x you #sapnap x reader #sapnap x y/n #sapnap series #129 days #mcyt x you #mcyt x reader #sapnap fluff

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gallifrey1sburning · 4 years ago

Note

Hi 👋 a prompt you can take or leave: Draco is very unsure whether he is being flirted with or this is an extension of their office rivalry that he doesn't understand (or the reverse!) Ty!

@skeptiquex and @ihavesomeideawhatimdoinghere, I read both of your prompts back to back, and they worked really well together, so I squished them into one. I hope you enjoy! Thank you both for sending me things, and thanks to @mxmaneater for the fast beta ❤️

—

The Tally

“One more for me!” Harry crowed, scratching a new tally mark next to his name on the chalkboard behind Draco’s head. “Better luck next time, Malfoy.” The board had a partner behind Harry’s desk, and the tallies recorded on one would reflect on the other, but Harry took great joy in invading Draco’s space and rubbing his victories in his face at every opportunity. Not that Draco was any better. It was part of the fun.

“Please, that one hardly counted,” Draco objected reflexively. “You only caught him because you tripped, for Merlin’s sake. Hardly an impressive arrest.”

Harry shrugged and grinned, perching on the edge of Draco’s desk. “An arrest is an arrest.”

“Whatever,” Draco grumped. He and Harry had been playing this game for over a year now, and the margin was always extremely close. Harry was just barely ahead, at the moment, but Draco would catch up to him soon. He and Parvati had a potions ring bust coming up that Harry and Weasley weren’t involved in. Once that was done, he’d have overtaken him, and the smug expression currently gracing his colleague’s face would disappear along with his lead.

“So, any big weekend plans?” Harry asked, ignoring Draco’s pout.

Draco dropped the expression when it failed to produce the desired reaction. “Nothing too exciting. Yourself?”

“I’ve got tickets for the Puddlemere game on Saturday, actually. Ron was supposed to come, but something came up, so I’m trying to find someone else who might want to go. It would be a shame for the ticket to go to waste.” Harry was biting his lip and looking hopeful, and for just a moment, Draco thought— but no. If he’d wanted to ask, he would have asked, he told himself firmly.

Taking care to keep his expression light, Draco pondered for a moment before saying. “I think McCutcheon is a Puddlemere fan. Maybe try him?”

“Oh, right.” Draco almost thought that Harry looked disappointed for a moment, but on second glance, his expression was clear and friendly. “Thanks for the tip. I’ll see if he’s free. Have a great weekend, Draco. Parvati.” He knocked his knuckles against the desktop twice before straightening and walking off, hands in pockets. Draco watched him go, sighing as he rounded the corner. It really was a pleasure watching him walk away.

He was brought back to reality by his partner smacking him in the back of the head with a stack of paperwork. “Ow! What the fuck, Patil?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she hissed, looking even more exasperated with him than usual. “Every time he’s over here, you spend the rest of the day mooning, and he finally asks you out, and you say NO?!”

“I do not moon!” He did moon, and he knew it, but he wasn’t about to say so. He still had his pride. “And he didn’t ask me out, either.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“He didn’t! He just said he had an available ticket! He very clearly had an opening to invite me, if he wanted to, and he very clearly didn’t.” There had been a number of moments like this, in recent months, and Parvati kept insisting that Harry was flirting with Draco. For his part, Draco kept insisting that she mind her own business, because she obviously could not read Harry Potter at all if she thought he was interested in Draco.

“You are an absolute moron.” Parvati shook her head in disbelief, but let it drop.

—

They made the bust on Tuesday. Monday had been a rush of preparations and contingency planning and final logistics, and the stakeout had lasted all day, but in the end, it had been worth it—they’d brought in six players in one sweep and were confident that at least one of them would give up the rest in exchange for sentencing leniency. Draco had dropped into bed exhausted but elated.

He was still riding high when he sauntered into Harry and Weasley’s office on Wednesday. He leaned ostentatiously over Harry’s desk, stretching almost directly over his perpetually-tousled head to grab a piece of chalk and carefully add six perfectly straight tally marks to his own side of the board, giving him the lead by three.

“And that’s how you do it,” he gloated as he straightened, smirking smugly down at Harry. “Suck it, Potter.”

Across the office, he heard Weasley groan and mumble something that sounded suspiciously like ‘he wishes’ under his breath. Harry looked a bit pink, but still smirked right back up at Draco, so it was probably just the heat. “Played that one close to the chest, didn’t you? But don’t worry, I’ve got something in the pipeline. I’ll be back on top before you know it.”

In Draco’s peripheral vision, he saw Weasley bang his head against his desk. “I’m getting tea,” he announced, stalking out of the office. Draco raised an eyebrow at Potter, who shrugged.

Now that he was here, Draco didn’t quite want to leave yet, so he searched for something else to talk about. “How was the game?” he finally asked.

“Huh? Oh, the Quidditch game. Yeah, I didn’t end up going, actually.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck, not making eye contact. “Wasn’t really in the mood.”

Draco wrinkled his brow, not really sure what to make of that, but then Harry asked a question about the potions bust, and Draco forgot about it, instead focusing on a dramatic retelling of his glorious victory.

—

Harry’s next arrest came after a particularly brutal double homicide. It was all anyone was talking about when he arrived that morning, but, despite Draco’s expectations (and perhaps anticipation), Harry didn’t appear at his desk to brag about it. He was feeling a bit anxious by the time he finally saw him passing by his door in the late afternoon, and the feeling only grew when he did. Harry had bags under his eyes, and his usually confident posture was slumped. He didn’t look as though he had slept. He also didn’t look like he was going to stop.

“Hey,” Draco said, rising from his desk to catch him before he passed by completely. “Haven’t seen you today.” Are you okay?, he didn’t say, but he thought it was probably audible in his tone anyway.

“Oh. Hey, Draco.” Harry looked up at him, seeming a little lost. He looked hollow behind his eyes, and Draco could feel his eyebrows furrowing in concern. “Yeah, I’ve been…” he trailed off and glanced past Draco, into his office, to where the chalkboard hung prominently on the back wall. He seemed to curl even further in on himself. “I don’t want to count this one, okay?” he said, finally. “It doesn’t really feel like a victory.”

“Yeah, of course,” Draco said immediately, and he suddenly felt completely helpless. “Can I—” he hesitated, and then put a tentative hand on Harry’s slumped shoulder. “Do you need anything?”

He was half sure that Harry would pull away from his touch, but he didn’t. If anything, he seemed almost to relax into it. “I’m okay,” he said, and it wasn’t convincing, but Draco didn’t want to push it. “Thanks, though.” He reached up and gripped Draco’s hand where it lay on his shoulder, so briefly that his hand was gone before Draco could even fully register it, and then stepped back, continuing on his way.

Draco stood and stared at the chalkboard for a while when he got back to his desk. Then, he picked up his eraser and carefully removed one tally from his own side.

—

Their next bust, they were on together. A small Neo-Death Eater group that the department had been keeping an eye on, but who hadn’t done much of anything until now, had suddenly decided to make a grand statement by threatening a large-scale attack on Diagon Alley if their (entirely insane) demands weren’t met. Needless to say, the Ministry was not interested in negotiation, and the whole Auror force had been called out en masse.

Somehow, Harry and Weasley had ended up working in tandem with Draco and Parvati, and now Harry and Draco were back to back in a dead-end alley, dueling a pair that seemed to be the last desperate stragglers, while Parvati watched the street, ready to block anyone who might try to interfere, and Weasley stood to the side, clutching his ribs and sweating but still managing to hold a fairly steady shield charm. There was an unconscious, Incarcerous-ed body on the ground near him; his Stunner’s aim had been true, but the assailant had gotten off one last hex before it hit. He wasn’t in imminent danger—Draco had been hit by the same spell before, and it was extremely painful but didn’t cause any lasting damage once reversed—and although that would be easy enough to do, they didn’t have a wand to spare at the moment.

Harry and Draco worked together like they’d been born to it, and if their respective partnerships hadn’t been working so well for so long, Draco might have considered it a waste that they weren’t paired together. Spells flew around them like fireworks, and they cast and dodged and shielded and attacked without speaking, without pause, until, suddenly, it was over.

“Ron!” Harry cried as soon as his wand dropped, but Parvati was already by his side, countering the spell, and Ron’s body relaxed almost immediately.

“I’m fine, mate. Great work.”

Harry breathed out a sigh of relief and then turned to Draco, chest still heaving with exertion. Draco couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face even as he tried to catch his breath. He could feel sweat tracking down his face, his neck, his back, and he was streaked with dirt and—he suspected—blood; but they had won, and no one had died, and he was almost high on the rush of it. “I’m not sure who those count for,” he said, half laughing. “It happened too fast. Did you catch who took them down?”

Harry was grinning now, too, the buzzing energy of their win almost visibly coursing through him. He beamed at Draco, and he looked so fucking beautiful, even though he was just as dirty and dishevled as Draco was, that Draco couldn’t help but glance, just for a second, at those lips that he’d surreptitiously observed for so long as they stretched wide with joy. When he snapped his eyes back up, however, it was clear that Harry had seen, because the smile had morphed into something that Draco couldn’t put a name to, and his eyes were searching Draco’s for something. And then—

“Fuck it,” he heard Harry say, and then there were hands on either side of his head and he was being—quite thoroughly—kissed, right there in the alley. He melted into it immediately, pulling Harry closer to himself almost instinctively. There was an iron tang of blood as their tongues met, and Draco wasn’t sure whose it was, but he didn’t particularly care. He didn’t care about much of anything, right now, besides Harry’s hands, and Harry’s lips, and the press of Harry’s chest and hips against his own, and whether Harry might want to reenact this moment later but somewhere with a bed and a lot less clothes.

“I TOLD YOU!” Parvati yelled triumphantly in the background.

“Fucking finally.” Ron sounded both amused and exasperated.

Draco ignored them in favor of sliding his hands into Harry’s birdsnest of hair, pulling lightly and making him groan into the kiss. He supposed this one counted as a win for both of them.

Also on AO3

#drarry #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #draco malfoy #harry potter #my writing

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sunlight-moonrise · 4 years ago

Text

Sugar, Spice, and Everything (Not So) Nice (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Being a Barista and falling for a regular is as cliche as it gets. Having that customer become your new professor? Not so much.

A/N: *Peeks head out* Hello everyone. I have come back from my unannounced hiatus to show off this baby. Major thanks to @definitelynotkatesblog and @clean-bands-dirty-stories for helping me put this fic together. This was written for the lovely @httpnxtt for the secret-fic-swap in the Discord (thanks @imagining-in-the-margins.) I hope you all enjoy this smutty goodness.

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: Face Slapping, Degradation, Slight Hair Pulling, Oral Sex (male receiving), Fingering, Spanking, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex/Creampie

Word Count: 6.4K

Masterlist

Being a barista is pretty awesome. Sure, there were bitchy customers and super early mornings but it had it’s redeeming perks. We got free coffee, tea, and snacks during our shifts, which served the caffeine addict in me. I also learned how to make popular lattes, mochas, and frappes that I ended up making at home for myself one too many times. While there were the occasional assholes who couldn’t appear human before getting their hands on some caffeine, there were the regulars who made it worth it. Most of the regulars were so sweet, I appreciated a familiar face when they came in. Some.. more than others.

“He’s baaaaaaaaack,” my coworker Hazel whispered to me in a sing-song voice as she scribbled a customer’s name on a cup. I turned to see who she was talking about, but I already had an inkling about who it was.

My suspicions were correct. I turned to see one of our kindest regulars, my personal favorite customer, Dr. Spencer Reid. Is it weird to know the full name -including the honorific- of a customer? Possibly. But when I’d asked for his name to write on his cup the first time he came in, he accidentally gave me his full name.

“Dr. Reid- uh, Spencer. Sorry, work habit.” He stuttered, avoiding my eyes after the mistake.

“No worries! What can I get started for you?”

As a Criminology major, I learned to study the people who catch my attention before indulging them. Call it an old habit.

Dr. Spencer Reid had earned his title and then some. He’d joined the FBI at only 22, having six degrees under his belt by the age of 27. He’d written several dissertations and co-wrote novels with his colleague, David Rossi. Someone with his reputation could be a pompous ass and have a leg to stand on, which is what made his humbled demeanor so much sweeter. He was also incredibly easy on the eyes, which was a nice little bow on top.

Hazel liked to joke about how we’d make a cute couple but I know she only did it to watch me get flustered.

I walked towards the counter to take his order, leaving Hazel with the task of refilling the caramel syrup. I’m always the one to help him since he very aptly pointed out that I’m the only one who makes his coffee just how he likes it.

Some days, he’d let me surprise him with a random creation. I’d confirm if he wanted caffeine (he always did), iced or not, and any flavor requests. He’d take his drink, tip me handsomely and let me know his thoughts on the drink the next time he came in. So far, his favorite was the almond milk honey latte I’d concocted. It was nice to have a little bit of fun, especially with regulars who were as consistent as him.

“Hey Doc, what can I get ya’?” I asked.

“The usual, please,” he said with a smile. I nodded and set off to make his drink: a venti dark roast with a shit ton of sugar, a dash of nutmeg, and a tiny bit of cinnamon.

“Of course!” I quickly go to fill his order, making sure to put a complimentary treat in a bag for him. I know he had the ultimate sweet tooth so I try to sneak him a confection whenever I can. At first, he was a bit reluctant to take the free pastries, but nowadays he usually smiles when he sees the small bag.

“Here ya’ go.” I handed him his steamy cup of caffeine along with the little treat, seeing him smile at the small pun I add to his cup, “Have a BREW-tiful day, Doctor!” I watched as his lips landed on the rim of the cup, taking a long sip of the hot coffee. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the sight making my cheeks promptly flush. I cleared my throat before asking, “Is it good?”

“It’s always good when you make it,” he stated matter of factly, a small smile touching his lips. The heat in my cheeks rose again. “Will you be taking a course this summer?” he asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it. My first day is actually later today. I’m surprised the class section was open, to be honest.” Super surprised actually. I’d been trying to enroll in this class for the past couple of semesters but it was always full by the time I was able to even load the registration page.

“Well, I’ll wish you luck, but I’m sure you won’t need it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I can just tell.” He stated calmly, like it was common knowledge. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. Before he could respond, an insistent cough caught both of our attention. I peeked over Spencer’s shoulder to see a customer waiting for his order to be taken. I turned my attention back to the Doctor, an annoyed look painted on my face. He nodded, taking a hint from the impatient mouth breather behind him.

“Thank you for the coffee. Enjoy the rest of your day. I hope that class goes well.”

“Bye, you too.” I waved, watching as he exited the door. I turned to the waiting customer, a bit miffed that he interrupted our conversation. But because I was at work, I plastered a fake smile on my face so that he wouldn’t see just how annoyed I was. “Welcome, how may I help you?”

●●●

After clocking out at 2:30 PM, I made a dash for the building where my class would be held. It’s not supposed to start for another half-hour, but I wanted to be sure to get there in time to choose a good seat and settle in before the rest of the class arrived.

Luckily room 301 was relatively empty so I was able to score a perfect seat by the window. I decided to kill some time by listening to some music and doodling randomly in my notebook. Some time had passed when I felt someone take the seat next to me. I turned to see a young man occupying the chair beside mine. He looked to be a frat boy based on the Greek letters he was sporting. Who wears a cap and hoodie in this weather? I really hope he didn’t expect to cheat off of me- although these types of guys always seem to do so.

I was about to return to my doodle when I felt a poke on my shoulder. I turned to give the offender my full attention, removing one of the earbuds from my ears.

“Hey, I’m Tony,” frat boy said, with a wide smile adorning his face. I must admit, his boyish grin melted the slight annoyance I had begun to stir toward him. I returned his greeting and introduced myself as well. “I don’t mean to be a bother,” he continued, “but I like to have at least one buddy in each of my classes. In case we need help or miss an assignment or something.”

I nodded my head - a friend in a class was always useful when it came to studying and swapping notes. We chatted a bit more, learning about each other’s major and why we both decided to take a summer course. Tony is a double major and this course will satisfy the credits he needs for his psychology requirement. This is why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.

It wasn’t until I heard the hush of the classroom that I realized the class was about to begin. I turned back to my notebook, preparing to jot down some important information despite it being the first day of class.

“Good morning class.” Wait. That voice... I didn’t even need to pick my head up to know who had spoken. “This is Criminal Psychology and I am your instructor, Doctor Spencer Reid. Unfortunately, Professor Monroe could not cover this course so I’ll be his permanent replacement. Now…”

I raised my head, watching as he continued to talk about what is to be expected in this course while a TA handed out the syllabus. He went on, able to capture the attention of everyone while speaking of the experiences he had with an array of criminals. His eyes scanned the room and for a brief moment I thought they would land on me, but they continued to take in the mass amount of students before him.

My concentration was broken by Tony passing me a copy of the syllabus. I scanned it over, making sure to highlight all the important dates. I didn’t want any exams or projects conflicting with my work schedule. I also made note of how the overall grade system is broken down. The whole thing seems pretty fair and everything was spaced out enough where I wouldn’t feel too overwhelmed with the workload.

“… and that pretty much wraps it up. Does anyone have any questions?” I tuned in just as he was pulling the first class to a close. No one raised their hands, so he dismissed us with a reminder to read the first chapter of the textbook and to check for any emails.

“So do you want to grab lunch?” Tony asked from beside me. I contemplated whether or not to go with him. He must have seen the hesitation in my face because he quickly added, “Not as a date or anything, I just wanted to grab a bite and I didn’t want to do it alone.”

“Sure,” I smiled, “Let me just ask the professor a quick question about his office hours and I’ll meet you at the food court.”

“Sweet, I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, Tony gathered his stuff and exited the back door.

I focused my attention on the podium, seeing a gaggle of girls surrounding him asking redundant questions. From what I could hear, their questions could have been answered if they’d read the syllabus. I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, they were probably more focused on him rather than what he was saying during class. I waited a few more minutes for them to finish up before I made my way to him.

“So do I call you Doctor or Professor now?” I laughed.

“From you, I’d respond to either,” he replied warmly. The comment made me blush. If he looked into my eyes at that moment, he’d see more stars in them than the night sky. I bit my lip to stop the idiotic grin from spreading across my face.

He’s your professor, get a hold of yourself.

“How can I help?” he asked, bringing me back to the original reason as to why I was standing in front of him without a cash register between us.

I cleared my throat. “Um, I was wondering if it was possible to see you outside your normal office hours? I usually work the morning shifts and I don’t want to flood your emails with my questions.” I asked.

“Of course,” he said. “You can come to my office at whatever time works best for you. I know balancing a work and school schedule can be hard. Besides, I’m usually there handling paperwork anyway.” He gave a small shrug, pushing his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you so much. I look forward to the rest of the semester Professor Reid.” I liked the way his newfound honorific rolled off my tongue.

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Professor.” With that, I left and headed out to meet Tony.

I was able to find him at the food court. We got some food and chatted more about our classes as well as life outside of school. He made it easy to be his friend, and it was nice having someone to talk to. He works as a waiter so we shared our customer service horror stories and tales of sneaking food at work. It was a nice distraction that took my mind off of Dr. Reid and the ongoing battle of calling him Doctor or Professor. As Tony rambled, my mind wandered about other things I’d like to call Spencer instead.

●●●

In that short span of two weeks, we already had an exam, an oral presentation, and a report on the psychoanalysis of serial killers. Not one day had been wasted, but this is what to be expected from a summer course. The essay was due the day before. Now we had to wait for our grades which gave us a moment to take a breath.

I was worried that my paper was subpar; especially since I chose to write about Andrei Chikatilo, a serial killer from Ukraine. He wasn’t as popular as those in America, so I ended up spending hours on deep research to find substantial information about his crimes. It also didn’t help that some of the original reports weren’t in English. I had worked hard, and hoped Professor Reid would see that, even if my writing could sometimes be a little weak. I was worried about the grade as our research papers held the weight of 20% of our final mark.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N! Anyone in there?” Hazel’s voice pierced through my worry bubble, her hand waving in front of my face. I shook my head, trying to focus on restocking the coffee beans.

“Sorry Haze, I’m thinking about this class.”

“Funny you say that; your favorite professor just walked in. Thought you might want to take his order.” She wagged her brows at me, making kissy faces as I hurried to the front register, trying my best to not let my eagerness be so glaringly obvious.

There he was, in his usual handsome glory, patiently waiting for me to take his order. He greeted me with a small smile that I happily returned.

“Hey Doc, what can I get you today?”

He debated for a moment before saying, “Surprise me.”

“Gotcha.” I already had an in my head; it’d been a while since he asked me to make him a random drink so I’d had plenty of time to plan. We got an early shipment of ingredients for our fall-themed drinks and I figured he would appreciate some pumpkin spice in his caffeine. “How are the papers coming along?” I asked casually as I rang him up.

“Pretty well. I’m almost done, so you’ll all receive your grades later today.” Wow, that was fast. I wondered if he stayed up reading all those papers to be done by today. Probably not, a TA must have helped him.

“I am a bit nervous about mine, especially since it’s worth a huge part of our final grade.” I really wanted to get an A in this course, but it was hard juggling everything in such a short amount of time.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he reassured. “I haven’t properly finished yours yet but it looked great just from what I’ve seen thus far.” His words gave me a little reassurance.

“Thanks. I put a lot of effort into it. Let me grab your coffee now.” Spencer walked towards the pick-up station while I grabbed a venti cup for his drink. Just when I was about to make his order, I saw another familiar face come up to the register. “Tony, hey!” I shouted, placing the cup back down, “What can I get you?”

This was the first time he’d been here, despite him saying for the past few days that he’d stop by for a visit, even with the promise of a cake pop if he did. It was nice to see another familiar face.

“Hey coffee girl, how you doin’ today?”

“Just peachy. My feet are killing me, though.” Just saying the words caused the ache on the soles of my feet to spike higher. I thanked my lucky stars I was almost done with this eight-hour shift.

“Give me the chance to sweep you off your feet, I promise you won’t regret it.” he offered boldly. It wasn’t the first time he’d joked about taking me out. I laughed, especially since he had a girlfriend. She met us for lunch one day and we became fast friends- she was an incredibly sweet and intelligent girl, polite and elegant as well. It is a wonder how his frat boy charm won her over but opposites attract, I guess.

“Shut up, Casanova. What are you gonna have?”

“I’ll have a grande iced matcha latte, please.” I should’ve known. He told me that he loves matcha flavored food and drinks the first time we grabbed lunch after class. He had complained that there was no good place to get one on campus.

“Coming right up.” I quickly filled his order since it was faster to make compared to the pumpkin spiced latte. I handed him his bribe-cake pop, matcha flavor of course, while he waited for me to finish making his drink.

“By the way, we’re still studying at the library for the exam later tonight, right?” Tony asked.

“Yup, I’ll meet you at 8.”

“Copy that, see you later coffee girl.” He turned to leave while I turned to make Professor Reid’s order. I put extra whip cream and a bit more syrup to satiate his sweet tooth. I grabbed a fresh chocolate muffin from the display case and popped it into a bag for him as well, drawing yet another pun on the good doctors bag. “Thanks for being such a TEA-rrific professor!”

“Here ya’ go Doc,” I called out before placing his drink and muffin on the counter. I looked up to see him no longer smiling. “Is everything okay?”

Ignoring my question, he said, “I wasn’t aware you were so close to Mr. Montgomery.”

“Oh yeah, we study together once in a while.” I could have sworn I saw his frown deepen before his features became void of any emotions. He shifted his eyes downward, his hand moving rapidly to grab the cup.

“I should get going.”

“Oh, okay” Before I could say goodbye, he was already halfway out the door.

That was weird. I looked at the counter and noticed that he left the cupcake behind. Maybe he was in a rush?

I shook my head. I needed to concentrate on making it through the last couple of hours of work.

●●●

I made my way to the classroom, smiling at Tony as he pulled out my seat for me. Professor Reid walked in a few minutes later, his tall figure drawing all the attention to the center of the small stage. He let us know he already graded the papers and that they would be distributed by the TA before the end of class. I had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach but decided to brush it off and pay attention in class. Despite my attempts to focus on his lecture, I found my mind wandering every so often anyway.

I couldn’t help but think he was less animated today. Usually, he taught with such passion that the class couldn’t take their eyes off him. But today, it felt as if we were all in a boring seminar with an ancient professor. Tony kept glancing at the clock, probably also wondering why time felt like it was going by so slowly.

I couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling the entire class. It didn’t help matters that every time I would raise my hand to answer a question, he would call on another student. What the hell did I do?

I decided to tune out the rest of the class. There is no point in being an actively engaged student if I wasn’t going to get treated like one. I’d just get the notes from Tony later.

Thirty minutes before the end of class, the TA handed out our essays while Professor Reid wrapped.

“Some of you did very well, while a few others struggled with the assignment.” His eyes landed on mine as he said that. It was the first time he had glanced in my direction the whole class. He moved on to the other side of the room. My mind was probably just playing tricks on me. “If you have any questions you can see me at my office hours next week or send me an email. You are dismissed.”

The TA finally made his way over to me, handing my essay in a slight fold. I looked at the grade on top and almost dropped the paper. My heart sped up as I stared at the letter in bright red ink. No way, no way this could be my report. I looked at the right-hand corner and saw my name at the top. I read through the first page and saw they were indeed my words.

How the fuck was it possible that I got a D on this paper? I knew my writing wasn’t the strongest, but a D?

“How you’d do?” Tony asked. For a moment I forgot I was in a room with other people.

I cleared my throat, trying to relive the lump so that he didn’t hear the croak in my voice. “Umm, not what I expected. I’m going to try to speak to him about it.” Tony was a smart kid, so I was sure he could see how tense I was. Luckily he didn’t question me any further and instead told me he’d text me later before leaving the classroom.

Fortunately, there were no other students in the classroom to slow me down this time. I walked right up to the podium, watching as Professor Reid placed some papers in his satchel.

“Professor, I need to speak with you.”

“Not now, I’m busy,” he replied, not even bothering to glance in my direction. This can’t be real. The sweet, kind Doc could not be the man acting like a total asshole right now.

“I really need to discuss with you my paper,” I pressed, raising my voice a little louder in an attempt to get his attention. That was wishful thinking on my part since he continued to fiddle with his satchel.

“I said I’m busy,” he uttered once again, his voice void of any emotion. He was about to walk past me, ignoring my whole being. His blatant disregard made my cheeks burn, and not in the usual way they usually did when I was around him.

“Spencer,” I barked, “We need to talk. Now.” For a few moments, he stood in front of me, his back facing my direction.

I was about to speak again before I heard him say, “My office. Half an hour.” He exited, leaving me alone in an empty classroom. The only things keeping me company were the fuming feelings swirling inside me and the failed paper clutched at my fist.

●●●

I knocked on his office door ten minutes earlier than he’d told me. The anger in my gut brewed hotter the longer I waited. As soon as I heard a “Come in,” I rushed through the door, slamming it behind me. He regarded me coolly, but didn’t comment on my actions.

“What can I do for you Ms. (Y/L/N)?” I walked up to his large desk, not bothering to take a seat in the chair in front of me. I took a moment to calm myself down before replying.

“Well, you can start by explaining to me why I got such a low score on my paper.” I guess he didn’t like being the only one of us sitting down because he stood up and leaned against the wall behind him.

“It did not meet the requirements for a passing grade as outlined in the rubric. The information given was boring and the overall topic was uninteresting. It was tedious to get through,” he responded nonchalantly, like he was giving me a weather report.

“You said that you enjoyed it so far.” I rebutted, placing my hands on the desk. I needed something to offer me stability so that I wasn’t visibly shaking.

“I’d mistaken your work for another student’s. Maybe Mr. Montgomery,” he dryly clipped.

A bitter laugh escaped me as I put the puzzle together. Was- was he serious? Was this man acting like this because of Tony? The audacity! The laugh that bubbled from my lips must have unsettled him. He left his position from the wall in favor of standing in front of me.

“You want to know what I think?” I didn’t give him a chance to respond before continuing, “I think you’re jealous that I have another guy that isn’t you getting friendly with me at the shop and because of your inability to keep your---“

“That is enough,” he grounded out, shaking his head. But I didn’t stop talking.

“--private feelings away from your professional ones, you decided to give me a failing grade. Do you know how hard I worked in-” my voice rose up higher and higher until I was yelling.

“I said that’s enough,” he said again, louder this time. But I wasn’t done.

“-this class? This is my life, my fucking future on the line. I’ve told you how important this all is to me and you don’t even give a shit! You’re going to let your interpretation of my relationship with another student influence the way you do your job? And here I thought you were a decent man, Professor.” I hissed, “Do you even give a damn abo-”

“Enough,” he roared, slamming his hands on the desk and caging me against the wood. His breathing was matching the upbeat pace of my own. His quick movement and the sheer volume of his voice caught me off guard, effectively silencing me.

“I don’t deserve to be punished over your envy,” I whispered, locking eyes with him in a steady gaze.

“You want to see a real punishment, darling?” he hissed, the heat of his words almost breaking my glare, his breath fanning along my face.

We stared at one another for a while, neither of us willing to be the first to back down. The tension between us kept rising and rising until the inevitable happened. I couldn’t be sure who made the first move but before I knew it, our lips collided with a mix of rage and desperation. My arms draped around his neck as he pressed me on to the desk. He placed his hands on the back of my thighs, lifting me up high enough until I was perched on the cool wooden surface.

Spencer’s lips were soft, a stark contrast to the harsh way he was kissing me. His tongue parted my lips, gliding over mine with fervor. I couldn’t help but moan as he rolled his hips into me. He continued his rough grind, keeping my legs open as we moved as close together as our bodies would allow. He overwhelmed my senses- the smell of him, the taste of him, the feel of him. Everything was making me absolutely feral for this man.

I never expected the gentle Dr. Reid to be so fervent, so sensual. The kindhearted, sweet professor who regularly drank his weight in caffeine never gave me this impression. But then again, I’m sure he was shocked by my attitude as well. He knew me as the friendly, bubbly barista, now student, who enjoyed his class. He was about to meet a whole new side of me, just like I was going to for him.

Spencer pulled away from me, our mouths making an audible ‘pop’ sound from the sudden separation. I tried to catch my breath as he stared at me, our chests rising and falling together. If I were to move a bit closer to him, we would be touching once again.

He took a few steps back before motioning me to step in front of him. “I want you to get down on your knees. Now.” I wasn’t going to argue with him, mainly because I wanted the exact same thing he did. I kneeled down, keeping my eyes on his face.

“You going to shut me up, Professor?” I teased, feeling powerful, even though he was looming over me. He didn’t reply, just continued to look down on me with those honey colored eyes- full of lust and rage.

I watched as he slowly placed his hands on his slacks, undoing the belt and buttons. He drew down his pants and boxers at the same time, just low enough to reveal his impressive size. My mouth salivated at the sight of his bulge as he came closer to me.

“We’re going to put that smart mouth to better use. Open.” He said, gripping my face between his fingers, forcing me to follow his orders. I opened my mouth slightly, not giving him exactly what he wanted. Instead of ordering my mouth to open further like I expected, he placed his thumb inside. He pushed the digit deep, pressing it against my tongue. I moaned around the finger, softly nibbling at the skin. He continued to slide his finger within my mouth before dragging it out completely. He wiped the excess spit on my cheek before lightly smacking it. The small shock of pain sent a shiver down my spine.

“Open, and do it right this time.”

I obeyed, opening wide enough to accept him into my mouth. My lips were stretched almost uncomfortably in an attempt to fit around him. He was so hot and thick, I couldn’t help but hum at the taste of him on my tongue. The soft “fuck” that fell from his lips had me purring around him. I went to place my hands on the remaining portion that couldn’t fit, but he batted them away.

“You’re using only your mouth.”

Fine, have it your way, Sir.

I placed my hands behind me as I bobbed my head, hallowing my cheeks with every rise. His shallow thrusts encouraged me to suck harder. I slowly pulled away to run my tongue against the vein protruding on the underside of his cock. I was rewarded with a groan escaping his lips.

“I should have known that you would be so good at this, darling,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse as he tried to control his grunts.

I made sure to look in his eyes as I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock. The face he made was purely angelic. The muscles of his neck protruded more evidently and his breathing became more labored. I placed him back in my mouth, this time taking my time to go down on him.

“That’s right, Princess. Show me what a good girl you are for me.” He moaned as I felt his hands weave in my hair before he pushed my head down on to him, causing me to gag around him, tears pricking my eyes. He continued his thrusts into my mouth, barely allowing me a chance to breathe. My nose repeatedly touched the base of him as I swallowed around his hard length.

Spencer tightened his fingers in my hair and I knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. The pace was brutal, but I enjoyed the rough treatment. Knowing that I was the one making him feel good was such a turn on. He buried himself deep in my throat after a few more thrusts to finish. I swallowed his release like the greedy brat that we both now knew I was.

He eventually pulled out, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. I swiped the back off my hand across my mouth to clean off any leftover spit and cum.

“Get up,” he ordered, his voice hoarse.

I did so, rubbing the ache in my knees as I slowly rose. “I want you bent over the desk,” he continued.

“I want you to answer my previous question.” I quipped.

“You’re not in the position to be making commands,” he growled. He wrapped his fingers in my hair again, pulling just roughly enough so that I was looking up at his face. “If you want this to end well for you, I suggest bending over my desk before I stuff my cock in that bratty little mouth of yours again.”

He released me, eyes still on my face waiting for me to follow through on his order. I turned to his desk and did as he asked, bending over the wood until my chest laid flat against the surface. I waited as patiently as I could for him. It felt as if I was in this position for an eternity before he touched me. He pushed both my underwear and skirt down to my knees before placing his hands on my hips. I heard it before I felt it- the smack on my ass that caused me to yelp.

“Fuck, Spencer. What the—” I was cut off with another resounding smack.

“Did you really think that I wasn’t going to give you a real punishment, darling?” I took a deep breath as another shiver went down my spine. He had no business sounding so hot right now. Another smack, this time on my opposite cheek, had me biting down on my lip to stop myself from crying out.

“This” *SMACK* “Is” *SMACK* “What” *SMACK* “Happens” *SMACK* “To” *SMACK* “Bratty” *SMACK* “Little” *SMACK* “Girls” *SMACK*. A sob ripped from my chest as the last blow landed. My ass was on fire and surely littered with his hand prints.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood since you sucked me off so nicely, or I would have made that worse.”

Gee, thanks.

“You look like such a dirty slut like this.” I felt a finger enter me easily, the wetness gathered there making my entrance ready to take him. “So wet. Was it the spanking that got you like this, or your mouth around my cock?” A moan was my only reply as he added another finger, the two digits moving in a scissoring motion.

“Are you gonna be my sweet girl, now?” He asked as I moved my hips along his fingers, desperately trying to seek some more relief for the fire burning between my thighs as his mouth littered marks along my thighs. I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasure he was giving me as he curled his fingers, a slow moan falling from my lips. He pulled them out of me, wiping the slickness against my still burning ass. Fucking bastard. I wiggled my hips against him, hoping he would grant me a reprieve and put his fingers back inside me. Instead, he spanked my ass one more time- one quick, sharp blow against the bruised cheek.

Just when I was about to yell at him, he placed the head of his member against my entrance. He moved up and down my drenched entrance before penetrating me in one full thrust. I took a short breath in, trying to get used to feeling so full. He was stretching me out in the most amazing way.

Spencer waited until I was grinding against him before he pulled out and pushed back into me. “Look at you, such a wanton little bitch aren’t you?” He could call me whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop fucking me.

He kept a steady pace, making sure to grind into me every time he slammed back in. The obscene sound of our skin smacking against one another’s and the moans escaping our throats was an erotic symphony that had my body heat raising the temperature in the room.

He hitched my leg on top of the desk, entering in an angle that made the pleasure so much better. I couldn’t stop the whines that kept escaping my mouth every time he pounded into me. His hand stayed upon my leg, holding me down and limiting my movements. His nails dug into the skin so harshly I was sure there would be bruises left in their wake.

“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he hissed under his breath. “Should have known you just needed to be fucked like the cheap whore you are.” He sped up, hips snapping at an almost punishing pace. The desk creaked every time he slammed into me. I hoped no one was nearby to hear what was going on. A whine left my throat when I felt his fingers rub against my clit. I was so close now.

“Should I stay inside you? Fill you up so you walk around campus carrying my child?” He growls, his pace increasing with each passing moment. “Knock you up so the whole campus knows what a whore you are for me?” He asks, earning a cry ripped from my throat.

“Who’s fucking you?” he grunted. I don’t know how he expected me to form a coherent statement at this current moment. My eyes could barely stay open at this point.

“Spencer, please.” He smacked the outside of my thigh.

“Try again, who’s fucking you?”

“You are, Doctor.” Apparently, that was the wrong answer too, because it earned me another smack on my thigh. I had tears streaming down my face from the pleasurable pain he was giving me.

“You have one more chance or else I’m not letting you come. Now, who’s is fucking you?”

“Professor Reid!” I cried out.

“That’s right darling. Now come on my cock.” A harsh bite on my neck was the ultimate push that had me seeing stars. Spencer thrusted a few more times before fully sheathing himself within me.

He slumped over me, the feel of his breath against my neck causing me to shiver once more. We took a moment to have the high leave our body before he pulled out of me, a gasp leaving the both of us. Spencer was the first to break the silence between us.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” he asked, his voice a bit shy.

I giggled at his demeanor. A few moments ago, he was fucking me senseless and spanking me over his desk like a porno, and now he was asking me out to dinner.

“Absolutely,” I smiled. “But I should probably cancel my study plans.” I quickly added.

He led me to the faculty bathroom so I could freshen myself up. When I emerged, he was back to being the prim and proper professor I knew him to be. Just before we left his office, he leaned down and whispered, “By the way, you got an A.”

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