#even people telling me to cut him some slack

[piyatosenainanalaagere]

I always loved the story of shakuntala she's my favourite since forever but my love for her makes me despise dushyant because how wrong he did her soooooo

[quodekash]

i just rewatched the greatest showman for the millionth time and my brain wouldnt shut up so i wrote down all the thoughts i had and expanded on them and stuff and now im sharing them here cos why the flip not 

also a lot of these things probably seem super obvious to most people, but unfortunately i am stupid and slow and it took me ages to realise that races exist and even longer to realise that racism exist and even longer for me to realise that it’s an actual problem. (and its the same thing with all discrimination in general) 

Main Thought #1: Barnum Sucks and Jenny is Amazing 

Jenny is not a bad person. The only thing she did “wrong” was kiss Barnum on stage where there were photographers and stuff, but that was because Barnum led her on and she was hurt and stuff so she might as well ruin his image. Barnum is the problem, he’s always the problem. 

And Barnum’s reaction to her singing wasn’t “wow she’s so talented, look at this gift she has, this is lovely”. You can see it, there’s hunger deep in his eyes, there’s excitement of the potential power he could have over her, there’s shock because she could make me successful. With everyone he meets, he never sees potential, he doesn’t do things for them out of the kindness of his heart, he isn’t helping others. He’s using every single person like tools for his own self gain. 

And Charity sees Barnum’s face there, and she’s not even jealous. She’s scared. She reads her husband’s expression like a book, and immediately knows: this poor woman’s life is going to be ruined. And Charity won’t be able to do anything about it. 

Later on, when they’re on tour, Jenny is flirting with Barnum I think, but he rejects her. But she knows he has a wife, she’s met her and she’s also met his kids. Although Barnum would probably twist the story to make it seem like Jenny forced herself upon him, that it’s her fault he cheated, I don’t believe that one bit. Jenny is a kind person. She wouldn’t have tried to pursue him if he hadn’t been giving her signs or reasons to, if he hadn’t been engaging with her in return. He was leading her on, making her think there could be something between them. But then he realises she’s actually grown attached to him, that she wants to be with him, and he doesn’t want that, he just wanted to use her for fame and money and success.

“I’m just another one of your little acts.” He was using her like a tool, just like he did with everyone else he’s ever seemed to care for.

She kisses him and says “That was goodbye.” I feel like she wouldn’t kiss him randomly for the first time as a goodbye. That’s a jerk move. She wasn’t kissing him for the first time, she was kissing him for the last time, because they’ve been doing things together throughout this entire trip, we the audience just haven’t seen it. But he cut her off, not out of love for his wife, but because he doesn’t want her, he wants her fame. 

“I’m not in love with her!” “Of course, you’re not. Not with her, not with me, not with anyone. Just you and your show.” The one person he only ever cared about was Charity, the only person he made a real personal connection with was Charity, the only person that he was never trying to gain from was Charity. He finally regrets everything he’s done because he realises it was the final straw. It wasn’t him cheating that made Charity leave. It was her realisation that he doesn’t care for others, he only cares for himself. Charity is freaking perfect and lovely and Barnum doesn’t deserve her. 

Main Thought #2: Barnum Sucks and Lettie+TheGang are Amazing 

The reason they all feel so betrayed is because they’re outcasts. People hate them, the only people that talk to them are people who only want to give them hate and pain and misery, and hate and pain and misery is all they have ever known their lives to be. But then they met Barnum. And Barnum introduced them to people like them, other people who are treated badly for reasons beyond their control. Most of them probably didn’t even have a family, they were probably abused, disowned, homeless. But Barnum treated them like people, he talked to them like friends, he gave them a job and a meaning and a reason to be and they were happy and had a family. They finally had a place to belong, could finally feel like human freaking beings, and he closed the door on them. He’d gone up the social hierarchy ladder, one rung at a time, slowly climbing up and up, until he joined the oppressors. 

They take a stand against Barnum, against the people who made their lives hell, against everyone who ever wronged them because they’re human beings who don’t deserve how they’ve been treated, they deserve love

Main Thought #3: Barnum Sucks but Lettie is Freaking Awesome 

“Maybe you are a fraud. Maybe it was just about making a buck. But you gave us a real family.”

That translates to something along the lines of: Yeah, you suck. But you gave us a reason to live.

Lettie’s saying that, yeah, Barnum freaking sucks. He doesn’t really care about anyone other than himself. But, without realising it, he gave them a place to belong, and that’s pretty freaking special. She’s trying to tell him that he’s horrible, but he managed to do some good things. Maybe he can change and manage to do even more good things, but intentionally this time.

And then Barnum kisses Lettie on the cheek, and she makes this face of hope and joy, and I used to think like ‘ew I hope she doesn’t have a crush on him that would make this a lot less meaningful’

But I’ve only just realised (cos im really flipping slow) that her face there was her thinking about how far they’ve come, how he’s becoming a better person, that he’s gonna start turning into the person he appeared to be when they all first met him: a kind, open-minded guy who’s willing to give everyone a chance at love.

Main Thought #4: Anne and Phillip 

“You’ve never had someone look at you the way your parents looked at me” 

I used to think, in rewrite the stars, that Anne is being stupid and hopeless because obviously there’s hope what are you talking about? But I’ve only now realised (cos it took me way too long to become a more open person, and to understand that, hey, sometimes people hate other people, and, hey, racism exists) that her reality, every single freaking day, is terrible comments, people staring, people whispering that she shouldn’t exist, and even after finding a home in these people, there are still the comments, there are still the stares, there are still the whispers. The terrible people will always exist, and there’s no hope trying because she’ll always be hated. Her hands are tied, she can’t change anything in anyone, no matter how much she feels like she might belong.

But Phillip is sure that they can rewrite the stars, that they can change things, if only they’re brave enough. They could leave the room, hand in hand, and there’ll be comments, there’ll be staring, there’ll be whispers. But they’ll go through it together, they won’t stop their love for anyone or anything.

And then Phillip is in hospital. He’s dying. And the moment he wakes up, the moment she knows he’s safe, they kiss. Right there in the hospital, in front of so many people. Because she’s realised that life is too short, too precious, to let it go to waste. They shouldn’t be ashamed of their love, shouldn’t hide it, because either of them could be gone at any given moment, so they might as well shout their love to the freaking heavens.

Main Thought #5: idk what to title this one but it’s short

IT’S SO MEANINGFUL THE WAY THEY HUG (at least at first) INSTEAD OF KISS AT THE END OF THE MOVIE

I love it when couples don’t kiss after making up from a fight. Like you don’t need to display romantic affection. You can just show that you’re there for each other, that you’re sorry, that you love them and you’re gonna try to be better in the future. And that can be communicated with a big long comfortable hug, it can be communicated with your eyes, it can be communicated verbally. I’ve always thought that it’s so much more meaningful when couples don’t kiss after something important for their relationship happens. Somehow it’s so much more personal to be vulnerable with each other, to hug or look into each other’s eyes or to talk or anything else, instead of kissing.  

Random Thoughts That Aren’t Important At All But I Felt Like Sharing Them: 

THIS ENTIRE SOUNDTRACK IS SO BEAUTIFUL 

All the songs are so freaking good. And yeah, This Is Me is a good song, and I like the song. But it’s so overplayed and the rest of the songs in the soundtrack don’t get nearly as much love and respect and appreciation even though every single song is basically perfection 

JENNY IS SO TALENTED HOW 

i am in love with this entire cast 

THE DOPAMINE LEVELS FROM WATCHING THIS MOVIE ARE FREAKING INSANE 

with every single song that came on i said out loud to my family “this is objectively the best song” because they’re all such freaking good songs 

THIS MOVIE IS SO FREAKING GOOD I LOVE IT 

[tobiasdrake]

I really do love how much you can tell about Doomguy just from looking around his room.

Like. Yeah, all the stuff you expect to see is there.

He's got his big ol' gun rack.

What appears to be a rock he uses as a punching bag.

Whetstone for sharpening his knives. All the Real Manly Violence Man stuff you'd think would be there.

But also a pair of nunchaku. Doomguy has never used nunchaku in any of his games. Those are just there because apparently he's the kind of dork who likes to play around with nunchaku and pretend he's doing kung fu.

Also a jump rope. Gotta keep his cardio up for all that running and jumping he has to do.

He reads Guns & Bullets magazine, but he also reads Science Monthly. Which makes sense that he'd be a bit of a techie since....

...he seems to have made his new Praetor Suit by disassembling the old one and rebuilding it to be higher-quality. You can see from the guts of the suit that it's powered armor, and he just... knows how to work that.

He's mad. Not stupid.

He also reads cooking magazines, of course. His only friend is Doom J.A.R.V.I.S.; He's gotta be self-sufficient. Though how he got those pizzas delivered is certainly beyond me.

And, of course, he has a collection of regular books that he likes to read as well. Though his taste in literature reveals a certain trend.

Also, he reads comics.

So many comics.

So, so many comics that he's left discarded comics lying around on his munitions cases. This man is a nerd.

And if you doubt his nerd cred, remember that he even keeps collectible toy displays. Doomguy is explicitly the kind of person who will go out of his way in a firefight with the forces of Hell itself to go snatch up a new toy for his collection.

He even has collectible toy figures hanging out on his computer desk. He put a little hard hat on one of them.

On the other side of his desk, he's got some leftover pizza from the inexplicable delivery service, plus takoyaki flavor chips and some candy. It seems Doomguy is a fruity candy kind of guy, not a chocolate guy. Man after my own heart.

Oh, you know he has shredded every single surface of the Fortress of Doom at some point. How do you think he learned to react so quickly in combat?

That is, of course....

When he's not ROCKING OUT with one of his three separate guitars. I bet the middle one's his favorite. It has a place of honor under the giant demon skull.

Some people might say that a record player and casette tapes are old-fashioned but cut him some slack; He's a Gen X-er.

Of course, there's one thing that any walk through Doomguy's room reveals more than anything else. The one thing that matters more than the world to him. The thing that drives him in his every waking moment.

He loved his bunny rabbit. My favorite thing about the portrait - Well, my favorite thing about it is that it's a piece of fanart that got officially canonized, but aside from that - is that he's wearing his Praetor Suit in it.

That's not something he brought from home. He commissioned an artist to paint that after becoming a Night Sentinel. He still loves his poor, late bunny rabbit.

And he keeps her close to him when he's home.

[hyunebunx]

˖˙ ᰋ ── hyunjin messes up and kkami helps him apologize

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff (might be the cutest thing i wrote recently)

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: this is definitely inspired by the new book i'm obsessing over right now so pls enjoy and let me know what you think!! <33

“Well, well, look who finally remembered he has a loving partner missing him at home.”

You hear Hyunjin sigh on the other end, sheepish, obviously expecting you’d cut him some slack for disappearing for days, like talking to him wasn’t the best part of your day. Touring was hard, and he’s been insanely busy from day one – you get it. That’s why, your tone’s more playful than intended, only being able to let the phone ring for two heartbeats before rushing to answer and let his velvety voice bring sunshine back into your dull life.

“Hello, the absolute love of my life I think about daily.” He clears his throat, brushing over your comment in hopes you’re not truly upset he hasn’t called in so long. Two days weren’t a big deal, but for clingy people like you and him, going 48 hours without hearing what the other has been up to was torture. It was just enough time for insecurity to creep in, feeding you lies upon lies about how he’d forgotten your relationship and was currently in the process of replacing you with someone else, someone better and more worthy of owning his heart.

Your heart flutters, a grin finding its way onto features despite your attempts at stopping it. “Hello, Hyunjin.”

“Who the fuck is Hyunjin?”

No longer able to keep the happiness at bay, you burst out laughing, the aggravation clear as day in the absence of his usual pet name. Hyunjin was your baby, nothing else. His name only ever left your pretty lips you couldn’t wait to press against his only when the situation called for seriousness.

Settling down, you ignore his displeased huffing. “The guy who hasn’t called me in a week. You might know him.”

You’re teasing. You both know it, just like he knows that behind your words, the only genuine thing is the longing and the wish to have him close again, missing the steady beat of his heart and his familiar warmth that usually lulled you to sleep, badly. Hyunjin has always been great at reading between the lines, figuring you out easily, like you were nothing more than an unchallenging puzzle he could solve with his eyes closed.

“A week? I know I messed up, love, but it’s only been two days. Not even, just about 45 hours.” You hear sheets rustling on the other end, helping you picture him lounging about in the hotel bed, hair most likely still damp from his previous shower. For once, the time difference was not absurd, allowing you to stare wistfully at the moon with certainty the other was doing the same, sharing stories of your love and trusting she’ll keep them safe.

“You counted?” You giggle, making yourself more comfortable on the couch, right next to Kkami who is sleeping soundly.

“I’ve been counting the hours until I can see you again the second I stepped outside our apartment.” He confesses, voice suddenly heavy with emotion before he gasps, ruining what could have been a sweet moment. “You’re telling me you haven’t?”

Of course, you have. Time seemed to go by incredibly slowly whenever he wasn’t near, the increasing distance causing his magnetic pull to grow weaker each day, but never diminishing, never losing its hold on you. That was impossible.

“No.” You lie blatantly, leaning back against the couch casually, one hand moving to slowly pet Kkami’s head whose slumber gave him the perfect excuse to ignore you.

“Liar.”

For the first time in your life, the fact that he knew you like the back of his hand was annoying.

“Don’t change the subject! You’re still not in the clear for forgetting about me for two whole days, Hyunjin.” You’re not actually mad, just feeling a little bit neglected. Hyunjin has never gone MIA like that, without even texting you brief updates throughout the day just so you’ll know he was still alive and kicking. Your boyfriend was thoughtful, sweet, and considerate – the radio silence you got for the past two days was very unlike him.

“I didn’t forget.” He counters, and you’re sure he’s shaking his head vehemently, denying all of your accusations. “I could never forget, not in this lifetime or any others.”

“Liar.” You mock him, making a face he can’t see and tease you about like he’d usually do. “You could have texted, at least. Let me know you’d be busy.”

“I’m sorry, love.” His voice is soft, apology genuine as can be when he doesn’t try to justify himself or find excuses. Hyunjin is aware that if the roles were reversed, he’d feel the same way you’re feeling right now, the anxiety and worry eating at him from the inside and leaving behind a restlessness he couldn’t shake off no matter how hard he tried to. And he does, to an extent. Not being able to contact you drove him on the brink of insanity, making him moodier and more difficult to work it, which was so unlike him.

“Can I talk to Kkami?” He adds, trying to make it up to you in his own, creative way you’ve come to love.

“What?” You can’t help but laugh, not sure you heard him right.

“Pass the phone to Kkami for a moment, please?”

Now you’re curious, wondering what that beautiful mind had in store for you this time. You’ve been dog-sitting Kkami since he left, sending him regular updates in hopes of brightening up his day and keeping the homesickness at bay. Your camera roll has been full of pictures and videos of Kkami - walking him, playing together and being cute just for Hyunjin’s delight. A small price to ensure your boyfriend’s everlasting happiness.

“Should I leave you two alone? Give you some privacy?”

He laughs, and you hear the sound of a bag zipping up. “Yes. This is just between us boys, sorry baby.”

Shaking your head with a smile, you do as he asks, lowering the phone close to Kkami’s ear like the pup could actually catch Hyunjin up on what’s been happening around the house since he left. At the sound of his owner’s voice, Kkami’s eyes open as his ears perk up, visibly excited to hear him after so long. With his tail waggling, Kkami listens attentively to whatever Hyunjin is telling him, sleep long forgotten as you start giggling next to him, not believing your eyes.

Kkami was not an affectionate dog, often biting or growling at your lover like he was sick of him. Hyunjin’s presence and fussing were a bore, the dog quickly growing tired of his excited nature, even though your boyfriend was the person he loved most in the world.

That’s exactly why, you’re taken aback when he sprints off the couch, running a lap around the living room before returning to jump at your feet, barking and licking the hand closest to him excitedly.

Dumbfounded, you bring the phone back to your ear laughing. “What did you say to him? He’s suddenly so happy to see me.”

“He’s groveling in my stead. I told him to show you how much I miss you.”

Your heart melts, and suddenly he’s all forgiven as tears well up in your eyes. “Hyun…”

“Actually, I asked him if he wanted a treat.” Your tears get absorbed right back as a laugh bubbles out of the both of you, with Kkami jumping into your lap to beg properly. “I guess he figured I wasn’t there to give him some, so now he expects them from you.”

“You set me up.” You say, voice laced with playfulness as you stand up, scooping Kkami with one hand to fulfill his request. A true glutton, he’d never forgive you if you denied him his beloved snacks.

“Maybe. But my words had the desired effect.” His tone is softer now, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “You’re laughing.”

Yet, the joy didn’t reach its full potential, and never will with hundreds of miles between you. Happiness in its truest form found you in a handful of moments, and for most of them, Hyunjin was right by your side, fueling you with the love and devotion he held for you and you alone. He made you happy like nobody else, helping you see color even on the darkest days. Your beloved loved painting, that’s what he did, you just never thought he could bring forth his talent and make you see beauty in everything, guiding you to see the world through his eyes that always sparkled like he held the entire galaxy in them.

“Baby.”

Hyunjin gasps so loudly, almost like he is on the verge of bursting with happiness, matching Kkami’s energy to a T, ready to jump through the phone to feel your love and affection again.

“Can we facetime? I miss your beautiful face.” You add once Kkami is back on his own paws, devouring the stinky treat in your hand as you crouch to his level.

“Facetime? Love, I’ll literally catch the earliest flight and be there in record time! This little screen isn’t cutting it anymore, I need to see you with my own eyes before I get so desperate I start walking back just to be in your arms!”

And that is your cue to get on a plane first and finally visit your boyfriend before he keeps his word and ends up at your doorsteps with nothing but a duffle bag and a sob story about how much he missed you to justify his careless actions.

[sayoneee]

☆ CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT

“i want to wear his initial on a chain 'round my neck, not because he owns me, but because he really knows me” - taylor swift (1.6k)

contains: luke castellan x daughter of ares! reader. secret relationship: the three times u guys were almost caught and the one time u were. pre-tlt.

kashaf’s note: working on requests as well so dw!! again. i just like this 1 lyric from this song &lt;;/3

1. 

MORNINGS AT CAMP half-blood were both weird and normal — at a summer camp for kids with godlike abilities, you’d think that maybe they’d be cut some slack from all the monsters they’ve had to evade and maybe be allowed to sleep in some days, but no, life at camp half-blood was a regular survival of the fittest regime. 

or: eat, or be eaten, as you liked to remind your cabin. 

maybe that was why you were notorious among ares cabin, but to the rest of camp half-blood you simply embodied an other-worldly discipline, more of a tactician than anything, when compared to the rest of your half-siblings.  

“hey,” clarisse says in an undertone, nudging you as you take your designated seat beside her, “where were you last night?” 

your hand stilled as you picked up your goblet, shrugging your shoulders as the once-boisterous table came to a stand-still, eager to discover their shrewd head counselor’s indiscretions, hoping for something to loosen your high esteem for them: everyone remembered the time the entire cabin was put on cleaning detail for an entire month to repent for the mistakes of one.

your penchant for collective punishment wasn’t at all well-received among your half-siblings, but well, no one had really challenged you on your position yet, so.

“in bed,” you said, slowly, taking a sip, “why?”

clarisse shrugged, spearing a carrot from your plate, masking her annoyance with you — out of all of your half-siblings, camp half-blood, even, no one could boast of a relationship as close as yours and clarisse’s, yet no one could be more opposite. clarisse was chaotic, you were contained; clarisse was ruthless, you were just.

“i dunno, i just saw two people on the roof of hermes cabin.”

“and?” you drawled, ignoring the blood rushing in your ears, as the rest of your cabin looked on gleefully.

“one of them was castellan,” clarisse paused, searching your face for a reaction — you were grateful for all the nights spent in hermes cabin, because if not for the stolls persuading you to play poker with them almost every time, your expression would’ve never survived under clarisse’s scrutiny.

“the other one,” clarisse pauses as if thoughtful for once, then pointedly stares, pointing her fork at you, “looked like you.”

the other cabins are also looking in your direction as the dining pavilion is so quiet that you can hear a pin drop, before the table finally registers clarisse’s words, resulting in so much whooping and jeering, you’d think ares cabin won the lottery.

you snag a bite of clarisse’s pancakes, each word punctuated by a bite, “what would i be doing with castellan?” you pause, feeling the table pause with you. wrinkling your nose, you continued, “i swear, next you’re gonna say you saw us making out during capture the flag.”

you grinned as the table erupted into laughter once more, this time by your design. while everyone else went back to their original conversations, you’re summoning the memories of last night.

how luke had wrapped his arm around your shoulders and attempted to woo you with myths about the stars, how you had laughed and called him corny. how the moonlight had illuminated his face in the moment, when he laughed back, drawing you in closer, with his usual snarky response of, “you love it though.”

clarisse snapped her fingers in front of your face, bringing you out of your reverie. she frowned, whispering, “you’d tell me though, if that was you, right?”

“yeah,” you nodded, trying not to feel guilty about lying — clarisse deserved the truth. but it went against your agreement with luke. you tried not to think about how you’re essentially picking a boy over your sister.

2.

like all things camp half-blood, if not careful, could result in death — like capture the flag, but did that stop you, or anyone else for that matter, in taking it upon yourself to make winning a matter of life or death. 

this week, you orchestrated an alliance with hermes cabin, because of their numbers and ability to launch unforeseen tactics, and hephaestus cabin, for their resourcefulness. it also didn’t hurt that the head counselors were your boyfriend and his friend, respectively.

you’re standing by zeus’ fist, discussing strategy with luke and charlie, while your respective cabins go off doing whatever it is to prepare, when luke’s sloppily-tied breastplate catches your attention. 

before you’re fully aware of what you’re doing, you’ve already reached forward to grab it, while charlie stares at you like you’ve been cursed by athena and turned into medusa. 

“so,” charlie says, slowly, “anything you guys wanna tell me?” 

luke is silent, watching you work, while you’re too busy focused on fixing the breastplate to notice the knowing expression on charlie’s face, one you would’ve been irritated by if you had.

“nothing,” you say, nonchalantly, whirling back around to face charlie when you’re finished, while luke gets swarmed by the stolls, “these things just bother me.”

“in general, or luke specifically?” charlie grins, that annoying, all-knowing look is back, and although reluctantly, you can see what it is about him that has silena beauregard so hung over. 

“in general,” you say as if it were obvious, as if you’re trying to convince a child that storks are the ones to deliver babies, and no, you’re not lying, (both statements hold the same level of ridiculousness), “it’s the adhd — makes it distracting.”

“uh huh,” he says skeptically, “i’ll take your word for it.”

you resist the urge to shake him and question him more, but before you can toughen up and just ask, “what do you mean?” he’s already turned away, and capture the flag is about to begin. 

3.

“what’s that?” annabeth points at the tiny “L” on your necklace as it swings to and fro, finally set loose from the captivity of your neon orange camp half-blood tee, hidden under your armor.

“what?” you glance down, dropping the sword in your hand to hastily tuck it away, all the while cursing both yourself and luke for being stupidly sentimental. (it was his idea after all, though, you’re not sure how or where he got the necklace from, but you didn’t really care if it was stolen — you wouldn’t put it past him, especially since he was a son of hermes.)

“was that for luke? are you dating him?” annabeth persists, eyes widening with question after question — nothing can satiate the curiosity of athena kids, especially not annabeth, not when luke castellan, her brother, is in the equation.

“no,” you say, trying to catch your breath from the sword technique you had just shown her, and the gaggle of younger campers who have now caught on, looking at you eagerly.

“no to what? no to the initial on your necklace being for luke, or no to you dating him?” another camper chimes in with a bright grin, probably a child of apollo, and you’re so close to shooting yourself on the spot.

“no to all of the above,” you grit out, really regretting being nice for one of the few times in your life, because no one had asked you, in particular, to demonstrate sword-fighting to these kids, luke could’ve done it, but where your boyfriend was concerned, you were too.

“then, how come you have an “L” necklace?” annabeth asks again.

“it’s my mom’s,” you lie, “i’m a year-rounder, so it reminds me of her — before all this,” you waved in the general direction of camp half-blood.

the campers ohh’ed in unison, but you knew annabeth wasn’t convinced.

you sighed, it could’ve been worse.

+4.

you’re not sure when or where the whispers that your boyfriend had returned originated, but after what seemed like eons of not seeing him, you couldn’t find it in yourself to verify the rumors before dropping your sword in the middle of training and sprinting toward half-blood hill to see him for yourself.

you ignore the calls of your name from your half-siblings, as you were kind of in the middle of demonstrating a technique, instead choosing to focus on more important things, like if your boyfriend was even alive.

when you finally do make it to half-blood hill, and catch sight of your boyfriend, with chris and charlie in tow, you don’t stop sprinting, uncaring for all of the whispers from the other campers as they look on. 

when you finally do come in contact with luke, you nearly tackle him into the ground, as he drops his backpack behind the two of you, arms coming to wrap around you to secure you, as you mumbled, “i missed you, asshole,” into the crook of his neck.

luke laughed, the sound reverberating against your skin, and you get off him, taking a step back. he starts to say something, “i —” but is cut off by you grabbing his wrist, and tugging him over your shoulder, his back slamming into the dirt ground. distantly, you can hear the rest of campers gasp, before buzzing with excitement. ignoring them all, you put your knee on his chest, bringing your forearm under his neck. 

“i swear to everyone, if you disappear like that again—” you begin, as luke cuts you off.

“i won’t,” he promises, grinning as you pull him up. luke slings an arm around your shoulder, and you finally notice the jagged scar running down his cheek. 

he catches your gaze and stares at the ground instead, avoiding you.

“you look kinda hot now with the scar,” you settle for, you know you’ll get the chance to properly speak about it later, but for now, this’ll have to do. 

a light pink dusts his cheeks, and luke, looking up at the campers gathered behind chiron, then glances back at you, smirking, “looks like you gave them quite a show.”

you glared at him, shoving him, “i’m going to kill you.”

luke shrugged, wrapping the arm around you tighter, “the damage’s done, now i’ll finally be able to hang out with my girl in peace.” 

© sayoneee on tumblr. do not repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[reiderwriter]

Unhappy Holidays

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're unlucky enough to run into Spencer Reid at holiday celebrations four years in a row. In the New Year, you're resolving to rid him from your mind forever, but you never were one to stick to resolutions 👻🦃🎄🎆

Warnings: SMUT 18+ minors dni, enemies to lovers, low-key work rivals, semi-public sex, car sex, hate sex, fingering, thigh riding, creampie, unprotected sex (no condoms but contraceptive mentioned), slight spoilers for s4 of Criminal Minds (but not really).

Prompt Request: #50"You're so fucking obsessed with me.” #82"Really? Because your pussy is saying something different, sweetheart.” #93"Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

A/N: This is my first submission for @imagining-in-the-margins November/December Office Party writing challenge! I'm sorry I've been so busy recently, but the holiday season really does take a lot of effort to get through at work lmao. Hopefully, I'll be able to post more over my vacation! For now, enjoy some very unserious smut~♡ (as if I write any other kind).

Here's a link to my masterlist, where you can find all my work!~☆

Working with the FBI was no walk in the park, which, from your desk at the opposite corner of the bullpen, Spencer Reid sure made it look like.

Working on adjacent teams for the last three years had become gradually infuriating. You were forever in the man's orbit, stuck dealing with the other women on your team sat giggling about him and his many stupid haircuts, and wondering just how far you'd fallen to have to stare at his stupid face 5 days a week.

If you were unlucky. His team did happen to be out on cases a lot more, whereas yours handled correspondence and consulting cases, a cushy and safe job.

It annoyed you to no end that you had multiple field-based qualifications, extensive fire arms training and were top of your class at the academy only to be relegated yo desk duty whilst boy wonder with his doctorates was allowed to trip over his own feet catching actual killers.

Other people wondered where your dislike of the man sprang from, and you could only let out a disgruntled squeak and tell them your horror stories.

A few months into your job, your been fresh faced and bushy tailed or however that saying goes, and overly eager to take any assignment that came your way. Even if the assignment was baby-sitting an injured Doctor Spencer Reid. He'd been shot whilst out on a case whilst trying to talk down an unsub, and you'd jumped at the chance to get to know him.

He was an office legend, of course, though those days it was more for his characteristic lack of social graces rather than the beauty he'd grown into. You'd been so eager to get to pick his brains, find out how he'd managed to score the position on the BAU at such an early age.

Reality had hit you square in the face when he'd spent a week ignoring you, making you run around like a headless chicken searching for hard copies of documents the FBI had digitised a millennia ago, and hadn't so much as spared you a glance.

The straw that broke the camel's back came as you were running back to him triumphant with a document he'd requested eight hours before and had let yourself into Penelope Garcia’s office quietly, only to hear him bad mouthing you.

“She makes me uncomfortable. I've had her out searching for useless files all day because I don't know what to do with her.”

“She's trying to help, Spencer, it's her job right now, cut her some slack.”

“Her job is currently getting in the way of mine. I even tried writing my own doctor's note so I could get rid of her, but Hotch wouldn't allow it.”

You'd dropped the file loudly on the table, watched the two spin around with horrified looks and turned silently and left the room.

He hadn't once tried to find you after that, and you let your apprenticeship under Doctor Reid quietly fizzle out as you got back to your regular work.

Your resentment still burned though.

Each time you'd been caught in the same elevator with him, you'd ignored him to an almost insane degree, enjoying the way he squirmed and tried to make small talk.

You'd been in contact with JJ and his Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner as well, through cases you'd recommended, but always maintained your cold shoulder.

The one place you could not ignore him, however, was a Penelope Garcia party.

After you'd slammed the file down on her desk, Penelope had guiltily sent you a gift basket filled with sweet treats and books, and had hounded you for a week to make sure your feelings weren't too damaged by her friend's stupidity.

You actually liked her, and found at least one silver lining to the storm that was Spencer Reid ripping through your life.

In the three years since the “incident,” you'd found yourself at three parties where Penelope in all of her heartwarming ways had tried her best to force a reconciliation between the two of you, to disastrous results.

The first was a Halloween party, and you'd been incredibly proud of your Princess Laia costume when you'd arrived. Only until you'd gone to the kitchen to top up your drink to hear Spencer Reid boring some guest or the other about how Star Trek was more advanced, and had a richer plot line.

Penelope had stepped into the kitchen just as he'd caught a glimpse of your (rather skimpy) outfit - yes, you'd chosen swimsuit Laia, yes, you were going to own it - and had immediately jumped into introductions, as if you weren't already intimately acquainted.

“Spencer! This is Y/N! She loves Halloween, too, she makes all of her costumes. You guys should talk.” She'd led the other guest away and left you there with Spencer as you'd awkwardly looked upon his own costume.

“Are you the Tenth Doctor?” You asked begrudgingly, noting his pin-striped suit and the shorter hairstyle he'd chosen.

“Are you a fan? I prefer the original show run more than the current stuff, but David Tennant has really been doing a wonderful-”

“I'm sorry, let me stop you there. I don't watch Doctor Who. I guess I prefer something with a… How should I say, richer plot?”

He'd snapped his mouth shut and didn't have chance to open it again before you turned dramatically and walked away from him.

The second party you'd been cornered into was just over a year later.

Having been stuck in the office over Halloween, Penelope was determined to get in one last celebration before Christmas steam-rolled every other holiday, and thus you'd been invited to her single-people-only-friendsgiving-potluck, and you'd found yourself having to navigate knocking on her door with a casserole dish in your hands.

Luckily a large hand had appeared from behind you and knocked on the door for you. Unfortunately, the sudden shock from the silent appearance of a man right behind you startled you so much that the dish fell straight from your hands anyway.

Penelope opened her door upon hearing the crash and you whirled on your would-be attacker.

It was Spencer again, eyes round in shock, hand still curled into a fist.

You took a calming breath as you gathered yourself, trying not to bite his head off. You wanted to scream and shout and rip his head out but you didn't, instead letting the fury drip into your voice as you finally opened your eyes again.

“That dish took me four fucking hours to make.” You huffed in anger once more as Penelope guided you into the apartment and poured you a glass of wine before you moved back to the entry hall to clean it up again.

Needless to say he didn't care to converse with you after that.

A few small parties in between had been blissfully Spencer-less and you'd lulled yourself into a false sense of security. That's when you accepted the Christmas party invitation.

As one of the unlucky few members of the FBI who had to stay out over christmas in case of some emergency or the other, you'd been grounded in Virginia, unable to travel home for the holidays. So Penelope Garcia's singles-only-Christmas-fun-time-Party was your last ditch effort to spend the holidays actually resting and eating good food.

Learning from last time, Penelope reassured you that there was no potluck, that she had prepared all the food herself, and all you'd need were a bottle of wine and a willingness to party.

You'd taken those recommendations as law and had immediately let yourself into a glass of mulled wine as you arrived, and - noticing that the party was Reid-free - had allowed it to raise your Christmas spirits slightly more than you usually would.

By hour two of the event, you were full of yuletide joy and swaying freely along to the tune of Silent Night.

Spencer’s late entrance really would have gone unnoticed by you had you not bumped face first into his chest as you spun yourself around in your dance, his hands quickly falling to your hips to steady you.

The few moments it took you to gather yourself were about as long as you needed to realised that he'd caught you in his arms underneath the mistletoe. And with your mind fogged by mulled-whatever-it-was-Penelope-mixed-into-that-punch, the part of your brain that objected to the very existence of Spencer Reid went silent, and the incredibly tiny and somewhat damaged part of your brain that instead saw him as attractive started shouting loud instructions.

Before your common sense could return, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss the very warm, very close man holding you upright.

“Mistletoe,” you muttered as you clawed his arms off of you and took yourself straight to Penelope's bathroom to throw up.

So yes, your acquaintance with Spencer Reid had never been good, and you were perfectly fine with resenting him from afar, privately.

With three years of bad experiences under your belt, you weren't excited at completing your yearly tradition of horrendous interaction. Which is perhaps why you immediately and loudly protested Penelope’s New Years Eve party invitation.

“Y/N, it's a party. What's the worst that can happen?” She pleaded as she followed you down the corridors of the office building.

“I could see Spencer Reid. I could be forced to converse with Spencer Reid. I could get absolutely wasted and kiss Spencer Reid. There, three options, please accept my resignation from partying.”

“Y/N we both know you don't drink anymore, so at least one of those is unlikely to happen. And Spencer might not even come, he has tickets for an indie theatre from 6pm onwards, they're playing some Russian movie from the 60s that's like 4 hours long or something. So u retire yourself and tell me you'll come?” She had to take three or four steps for each of your own, not that you were so different in height but because you were practically marching in order to avoid the topic.

But you finally stopped and let out a sigh as you turned back to Penelope who stopped just before she ran into you.

“You're sure he won't be there?”

“I'm sure he RSVP’d no.”

“Fine. But I'm not drinking and I will still be expecting the Penelope Garcia virgin punch experience.”

“Bring the party poppers and you have a deal.”

“Done.”

–X–

Over the week since you'd accepted the invitation, you'd made peace with it. For the most part, you did love a Penelope Garcia production. There was something wonderful about your friend and her ability to brighten anyone's mood, an ability that was only heightened at holidays. She was like a glittered goddess gaining power when worshippers used her altar, except the altar was her house and the worship was a range of hallmark-induced holidays.

You arrived at the party at 10pm, and though that was the start time you'd been given, you weren't surprised to see a full house of Penelope’s team mates already in attendance. Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss sat spread across the sofa in the living room area, and you noticed a few techie friends also grabbing drinks and chatting.

“Y/N, I'm so glad you're here! You remember everyone on the team, right?” She pulled you into a hug and then sat you down in the middle of the group, waiting for you to mingle and become comfortable before she ran off to more hostess duties.

“Of course, nice to see you guys.” You grabbed your promised punch and sat back comfortably, striking up a conversation with Emily about how bleak the dating scene had been recently.

“It seems like all the men around me are jackasses,” Emily muttered and you giggled along.

“I'm wounded,” Morgan shot back, a hand pressed to his chest in faux pain.

“Good. You're like a lion out there in the clubs stalking gazelles, it's like watching a nature documentary when you're out there.”

You almost snorted your entire drink up your nose as Emily finished, needing to compose yourself for a second.

“I guess the men on our team aren't great with romance,” JJ laughed and took a swing. “Hotch and Rossi have four divorces between them, and Derek here is a lost cause.”

“Our only hope is young Spencer. May he grow into a respectful young gentleman and break out curse,” Emily toasted.

“Oh that ship has sailed,” your laugh this time was bitter, your mood immediately growing sour with even the smallest mention of Spencer Reid.

“Ah, Penelope mentioned you had a problem with our boy wonder. Care to share?”

You opened your mouth to give your standard non-answer and move the conversation along, but you were interrupted.

“Yes, Y/N, care to share? I am slightly curious about that as well.” You turned around and there he was, and your stomach turned in disgust.

Just one time, just one party. You'd been having fun, and here he was to ruin it.

“What are you doing here?” you gaped up at him, unsurprised to see him still decked out in sweater vest and slacks even in his down time.

“I was invited.”

“You declined, Penelope said you had movie tickets.”

“Ticket, singular. And it was cancelled so here I am. What's your problem with me, Y/N?” His jaw clenched and he grabbed the back of your chair and leaned down. It was supposed to be intimidating, but you rolled your eyes. When he looked that attractive, veins in his arms popping out of the sleeves he'd pulled up, you couldn't see him as intimidating. His arms were distracting yes, but God that was nothing compared to his thighs. His pants were tight, and you thanked whatever Clueless tailor had sewn them, because you now allowed yourself a momentary lapse to enjoy the appearance of his lower body.

You tried to shake the thought of his attractiveness from your mind, reminding yourself where you were and in what company.

“I don't think I need to answer that. I think I'll enjoy holding it over your head instead,” you said, standing up and beginning to gather your things.

“Wait, Y/N, where are you going? New Year isn't for another 30 minutes.” Penelope scrambled over and grabbed your hand, pleading with you to stay.

“I'm sorry Pen, but there's just this very annoying bug buzzing around me, and I think I need to get away from it.” You said your goodbyes and excused yourself from the party, happy to have walked away relatively undamaged.

Fate had other plans, and as you stepped out of the apartment building ready to walk yourself home, a hand caught yours from behind as a voice chased you.

“Y/N, wait. I'll go. You go back inside.”

“And return with my tail tucked between my legs after making a grand exit? I'll pass, thanks boy genius.” You shook yourself from his grasp and made to walk away again, but he quickly matched your pace and stepped into your path, cutting you off.

“I can't let you walk home. It's like 40° out here, and your coat is more style than substance.”

“Get into a car with a stranger? I'm sure you of all people know how stupid that sounds.” You stuck a finger out and poked his chest, but he grabbed your hand and held it in place as he spat out his next words.

“I'm not a stranger, I'm the man you're obsessed with, Y/N. Big difference.” You laughed, mostly in shock at his indignance, but he stared at your face as serious as could be.

“Me? Obsessed with you? I'm not the one who followed a woman they're barely acquainted with out of a party filled with all of my friends. Sounds like you're projecting, Spencer.”

“Am I?” He questioned, stepping closer and grabbing your hip as he continued his questioning. “I wasn't the one who was sat there talking about me with all of my colleagues.”

“Well, I wasn't the one who turned up to a party I'd declined an invitation to.”

He was imperceptibly close now, hand gripping your hip so tight you wondered if it'd leave you with a mark.

“I certainly was not the one who initiated a kiss last year, Y/N. You need to face the facts, you're so fucking obsessed with me.” If his hands had you feeling dizzy, his words were completely knocking the sense out of you. Suddenly you returned to the person you'd been under that Mistletoe, and everything from his closeness to the rough edge to his voice begged you to do it once again.

“Go fuck yourself,” was about all the words you could manage as he finally let his lips fall down and crush into your own.

You should've pushed him away, but instead your traitorous body wanted to prove his point, opening up for him faster than you'd opened up to anyone else before.

His tongue flicked against your lips and you gladly let him explore your mouth, opening up to tangle your tongue with his.

He tasted sweet, like the punch Penelope had handed you earlier, only now you wondered if someone had accidentally laced it with how free you were being with your affections.

He resurfaced for air, but you didn't care if there was nothing in your lungs at all if it meant that his lips would engage your own in battle once again.

“Look how much you want me,” he smirked. “Look how needy you are after a single kiss, chasing my lips like that.”

“You and your big fucking mouth. I wish you'd shut up once in a while.”

“I'll make it my new year’s resolution.” His lips joined your own again, and you clashed hard, exploring as much as you could muster as he pulled you in the direction of his car.

“I'm not driving… home… with you,” you growled between kisses, trying not to put your teeth to his neck and bite down hard. You're not sure if that impulse was a murderous one or a kinky one.

“I'm not putting you in the front seat, Y/N, I'm putting you in the back. You should be familiar with the idea.”

Heat sparked between your legs, and you allowed yourself to be manhandled into the beat-up trash heap of a car.

He'd not taken his hands off you as he got you in, pushing himself in first and then pulling you by the hand that you'd unconsciously gripped hard. You immediately straddled his hips, skirt naturally riding up in the process. He noticed and looked curiously down at you, growling as you pressed your lips against his neck and grabbed you instead by the hair gathered in a ponytail at the back of your head.

“See, you're obsessed with me. Just admit it.” Without breaking eye contact, he dug his fingers into the material of your tights and pulled in opposite directions, leaving your underwear exposed to his wandering eyes.

“I'm not obsessed with you,” your voice needed conviction to land, but it came out as a lusty whisper, especially as he slipped his fingers inside your underwear and finally touched your aching cunt.

“Really? Because your pussy is saying something else, Princess.” He found your clit faster than you'd ever expected, rubbing slow circles into your skin as you began rocking your hips back and forth.

It was becoming hard to disagree with him, with each flick of wrist growing the heat between your legs. You attacked his neck again, hands practically ripping at his top buttons so you could muffle the sounds of your arousal against his neck, collarbone, chest, any stretch of that pale skin available to you.

He forced your hips to a stop with one hand as he slipped a single digit inside of your hole, gathering your arousal as he set a steady pace, thumb keeping your bundle of nerves occupied.

“Listen, Y/N, can you hear that?”

“I can't h-hear anything.” You had to grind your teeth together to get the words out with minimal interruptions of moans bursting from the pit of your stomach.

He leaned in close to your ear, nuzzling your neck and placing chaste kisses up towards your ear, finally pulling away just enough to whisper a single word in your ear.

“Liar.”

His hand stilled and pulled off you quickly and your eyes broke open, hands unconsciously fitting into his shirt as if you were worried he was going to leave you there like this, on the edge of pleasure but still so far away.

“Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

“Jackass. You've only been here for like 20 minutes.”

“You can climb right out of this car if you want to, Y/N.” He tried to keep his tone light, but the death grip he had on your thighs, the very obvious tent pitched in his pants and the way his eyes couldn't go five seconds without undressing you told you you had more power in this interaction than he wanted to give you.

There was no way either of you were letting the other go unused tonight.

You relaxed your grip on his shirt and shifted your weight to one of his thighs. Lithe he may be, but lowering yourself down there was an unexpected strength there. He watched on curiously as you rocked experimentally against him. Back and forth you rocked, trying desperately to keep up his momentum or tempt him to help you out again.

It was time to let your voice back out, and you did, moaning without a care as you hummed his leg like a bitch in heat.

“You're enjoying this lot, huh, Y/N,” he muttered, and you watched as his hand worked his pants zip open, removing one of the barriers in the way between the two of you, as he began palming himself.

“What's that saying? Anything you can do, I can do better?” He growled at that response but didn't stop you. Instead he bought a hand down on your ass as you moved, so hard you jolted at the sudden pain. Your eyes shot open as your hips stilled, but you felt warmth grow between your legs.

“Yes, you definitely enjoyed that. Should I do that again, or do you think we should hurry this up and go back up for the countdown?”

You hesitated only a second before you pushed his hand off his lap, shifting your hips further towards his knees before letting your hand reach for where his had just been.

You didn't let yourself think about how big he was as you pulled his cock free, didn't let yourself wonder how he measured up against anyone you'd been with before. You didn't let yourself waste time thinking about how various office rumours were true, and definitely not a second was wasted feeling jealous about how those rumours were spread in the first place.

Instead you simply slammed your lips back against his, mouth opening to let your tongue engage his as you lifted your hips with his help and lowered yourself down on him.

You didn't have to rid yourself of sinful thoughts after that as he purged every single brain cell from your head, filling you so contently that there was simply no space for anything but him.

You locked up on top of him, clawing at his shoulders as you whimpered at the stretched, falling so he was balls deep inside you. You wanted to move, to use him for your pleasure, but your walls tightened every time you even thought about it as he stroked your hair through it all.

It had been some time since you'd last had a sexual partner, and you needed the few minutes to overcome the first uncomfortable bliss of it all.

“That good?” he whispered, but the harsh tone of earlier was gone, replaced only by unsure humour to break the silence.

“Been a while.” He nodded, kissing you again to distraction as he shifted your positions.

Cradling your neck and securing your legs comfortably around him, he lowered you against the backseat, pulling out slightly as you adjusted to the new angle.

“Better?” You nodded quickly, because it was. There was no more pressure on your legs, and despite the cramped space in the car, you had enough space to lie almost flat.

“Yes… thank you.” Just as his cutting tone had escaped him, you also heard your own tone softening, the sigh of contentment slipping past your lips almost sweet. Almost.

“Are you going to fuck me now, or what?”

He let out a shocked laugh, but lent down to shut you up with a kiss nonetheless. Bracing himself against the car door, his hips softly rocked into you, pace increasing until you were back to the edge of cumming, nails pressed hard into his skin until you were sure he was going to complain.

He didn't though, but kept up his thrusts, until your vision suddenly darkened and stars exploded in them, rolled back in your head as they were.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, where should I…?” He panicked, but you wrapped your legs around him, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him down to swallow his moan as he shot his load inside of you.

“Birth control.” You whispered when you finally let him go, gasping for air. “Contraceptive pill. No need to get the car dirty.”

He collapsed on top of you then, forehead resting against your own as you both caught your breaths.

The moment was silent, and you found the synchronicity of your breaths almost calming. Eventually you had to break apart, and he helped you up to a sitting position, but didn't break eye contact as fell back into his lap.

His hands stroked your back, dipping to your ass at times, but he didn't talk. Neither of you did.

The eye contact between the two of you was possibly the most pleasant conversation you'd ever had.

“I'm sorry.” He blurted, just as fireworks erupted into the night sky. Your heart shook, and you weren't sure of it was the shock of the sound, or the way the rainbow of lights illuminated his sincere expression.

“You don't have to apologise for cumming in me, Spencer.”

“Not that. Before. The casserole and the mistletoe, and the Halloween costume.”

“Wow. Um, okay. Apology accepted, I guess, though I'm not entirely sure why you're apologising now.”

He took a deep breath just as another set of fireworks went up.

“I pulled you under the mistletoe. It was Penelope’s idea, she knew how stupid I was being around you and sent me over. I saw it and took the chance.”

“Fuck. Why?”

“Because I was pretty useless at being chivalrous the year before.”

You climbed off his lap in a scramble and sat on the seat beside him, mind racing, trying to figure out where the hell he was going with this.

He turned to you, trying to keep your attention as he stumbled over the words.

“You couldn't knock on the door, so I wanted to help you, but I didn't think I'd scare you so much you'd drop it.”

“You didn't scare me it was a momentary lapse in my observational skills.”

“You shrieked,” a smile threatened to pull his lips up, they twitched as you flushed red.

“And Halloween?” You looked at him again now, trying to figure out what the hell was going on between the two of you.

“You refused to look at me for a year after we stopped working together,” he shrugged quickly running a hand through his hair and expelling a breath. “I don’t really know how to talk to women.”

“You just know how to piss them off?”

“Morgan says it comes naturally.”

“Yeah, well, Morgan is very wise.”

A brief silence stretched between you, or as silent as a night full of cracks, pops, whizzes and bangs could be.

“I don't get it. You tried your best to get rid of me when I was there to help you. I wanted to impress you, and you kept sending me on meaningless errands, and now you're saying what? You wanted my attention?” There was a quiet anger to your voice, but you were surprised to find it diminished and tired.

“I wanted you gone because you were distracting me, Y/N, not because I hated you.”

“Well, what's the difference, Doctor Reid? Please indulge me.” You huffed a little but kept your eyes on him, trying not to seem too desperate for his answer.

“I have an IQ of 187. Emily says when I'm around a pretty girl it's more like 52,” he fidgeted with his pants, forcing the words out.

“You're a pretty girl. We had a case to work and all I could think about was how to get you to like me. Hotch chewed me out like three separate times for being absent minded.”

He was looking anywhere but you, trying his best not to appear like a fool but you were locked onto him.

“Oh my god you're an idiot.”

“When you're around, yes.”

“And that means I'm equally stupid.”

“No, you just jump to conclusions and hold grudges. There wasn't anything really that stupid about your actions, though it could be suggested that not thoroughly thinking through the wording of the conversation you overheard-”

You cut him off with a kiss, pulling him down again mlby his tie.

“Oh my god, shut up,” you whispered as you broke apart.

“Does that mean we can do this again? Because I'd like to do this again?”

“Stop talking, start kissing jackass.”

He finally didn't argue with that, pulling you back into him as you sat under the stars in his car welcoming the new year.

[angelixrr]

cw for fem!reader, yan!vees, noncon + dubcon, 4some, electrocution, manipulation, slighttt voxval if u squint REALLY hard

vox !

vox was by far the most insecure of the vees, and thus overcompensated for his insecurity by being overly possessive of you

would oftentimes drag you away from the other vees to take with you to meetings to show you off to shareholders, high ranking sinners and demons alike

his insecurities reared their ugly head whenever someone else happened to talk to you. be it friendly conversation or legitimate flirting, vox wouldn't spare either one, either dragging you away or having his security throw out the unlucky sinner

vox quite literally has eyes on you 24/7, has gifted you numerous pieces of voxtech technology, ranging from a phone, to a voxtech watch, and unbeknownst to you, he had you chipped after the two of you had drinks  he, n he slipped something into your drink to knock you out for a few hours

vox will give you anything you ask for, to not only showcase his wealth, but social standing and power. he's basically telling you through gifts that "no one else could do this for you, or would do this for you. i went through hell and back to get you this, you owe me"

vox is also the first of the vees to tighten his grip on your leash you're on if he feels as if you're getting too wild, too close to other people. he'll force a shock collar onto you, and then keep you confided either to his penthouse, or the vees's tower in his office

vox can be pacified really easy, acting obedient towards him really feeds his ego, and can make him go easier on you

valentino !

valentino is the least possessive of the vees, which isn't saying much, but he has the most confidence out of all of them so he doesn't worry much about you running away

really, he thinks you're lucky to have the attention of someone as powerful as him, the only time he ever really has an outburst is if you deny him

if you tell him no to accompanying him to a club, starring in a show, or being intimate with him behind closed doors, he will take it out on you, telling you that you should be grateful that he's been this nice, cut you so much slack when he's got all his other bitches on tight leashes. you're special to him, and he treats you so well compared to his other whores, so just shut the fuck up and take him

does tend to spoil you when you've been behaving particularly well, takes you out on the town into all the nightclubs that an ordinary sinner like yourself wouldn't dare go into.  takes you to the vip lounge and sits you on his lap to show off to anyone lucky enough to look at his favorite little bitch

absolutely loves to have you as arm candy, if he goes out 9 times out of ten hes begging vox or velvette to let you go with him, and if they tell him no, he gets huffy

loves loves loves to drape his wings over you and hold you close to him

blows smoke in your face. bc he’s mean and he sucks and that’s so hot of him

velvette !

velvette is by far the worst one to land the affections of, for what she lacks in power, she makes up for it in intellect 

she’s extremely cunning, and always makes you play directly into her hand, through manipulating you and others around you

will spread rumors between your staff about you selling someone out to an exorcist, or about you getting someone else fired, when really, it was velvette’s fault

will also manipulate your social media, since that is her specialty. she will boost your social standing if you play nice with her and behave, but if she thinks you’re out of line she will spread rumors and leak compromising images of you just to send you running back to her arms 

"aww, dollie what's got you in a tizzy? someone uploaded some nasty pictures of you? 'm so sorry darling, why doncha c'mere, i'll make you feel allll better" 

dresses you up practically every day, except when she's particularly busy, but even then, the night before she'll lay out clothes for you or organize a whole week’s worth of clothes. however, if she finds out that you didn’t wear anything she picked out for you, she throws a fit, and you’re guaranteed to be manhandled for the next week like her own personal dress up doll, with extra scandalous outfits to boot

if velvette feels like she hasn't gotten enough time with you, she isn't afraid to tussle with vox or val about it because she knows who's really pulling all the strings

loves to have you working for her, because she feels as if you’re the only one who really gets her. oftentimes she’ll have you working as her assistant, and mediating between her and her designers, or fetching her whatever she needs. she’ll also dress you up for the job, so she has some eye candy while she’s busy yelling at her incompetent staff. but, she loves it when you’re incompetent. when you do it, it’s cute.

posts you on her social media 24/7, wants to show you off to her audience. will cover you in black lipstick kiss marks, then take a selfie of the two of you, just to make sure all of hell knows who owns you

will oftentimes blow up on her current models and fire them, just to have you stand in for them, and have you scantily clad in front of her cameras.

nsfw

vox !

cuz vox is insecure af so he overcompensates for it in the bedroom, barely lets you do anything by yourself, wants to control everything

likes to use his hypnosis to make you do things that usually require a bit of persuasion. if you say that you’re scared of being electrocuted during sex, vox will put you under his mind control, and make you all docile so he can put a shock collar on you and fuck you while he electrocutes you. will remove his mind control halfway through fucking you dumb just so you can feel how good he makes you feel

likes to use sex toys on you, because he can override a lot of their factory settings to make the vibrations more powerful (to almost a painful extent)

can tie you up with his own wires, which will tingle n shock you slightly

valentino !

valentino is an exhibitionist through and through, it’s one of the reasons he runs a porn studio. will sometimes either demand you star in a show for him as a favor for all the nice things he does for you, or he will secretly record the two of you without your consent. just wants to show all of hell his favorite fucktoy

loves to degrade you and call you petnames, you’re his little conejita, his puta tonta, his favorite muñeca to use til he turns you into putty in his hands

is one of the more violent ones in the bedroom if you upset him, will choke you out and slam you against the floor if you tell him you’re tired. will fuck you no matter what you tell him

velvette !

velvette dotes on you in the bedroom, loves to have you all fucked out and teary eyed underneath her

her favorite thing is to eat you out until you’re overstimulated and crying, adores making you feel so good it hurts

uses you as stress relief if she’s having a frustrating day, will drag you into a changing room and make you kneel on the floor as her nails dig into your scalp to eat her cunt

whenever you’ve had a night with velvette it’s incredibly obvious, she will rake her sharp nails all over your body, and leave hickeys, bite marks, and lipstick stains all over you. adores marking you up for vox and valentino, just to remind everyone who’s really in charge

loves to use sex toys on you, from a cute pink n purple strap to a vibrator wand, not as mean as vox with them though. just wants to make you feel good til you’re a dumb mess under her

all !

even though the vees are competitive, vying for your attention 24/7, they do come together sometimes to mutually plan how to get you even more wrapped around their fingers

val n vox share you the most, they know what makes one another feel good, they're kind of a dastardly combo together 

you'll be taking vox's cock n then val will kneel in front of you expecting you to suck him off, but the moment you have his dick in your mouth, vox is pushing you all the way to val's fluffy groin, making you tear up and gag on his length

velvette n vox are also more likely to share you at once, but they work separately to make you feel good. vox will be fingering you, while velvette licks and sucks at your neck and chest, occasionally leaving harsh bites. 

velvette n valentino hardly ever share, but when they do its messy and competitive. they're practically fucking you til you see stars, seeing who can reduce you to tears the fastest and make you squirt the hardest. they're the meanest to you when together, calling you a dumb fucktoy, their useless whore, their favorite cumdump. won't hesitate to yank you away from each other. they just fight over you like two kids fighting over their favorite toy

when they're all together though, you're in for a longgg night. happens occasionally, just bc they're all so busy (andd sometimes they're too jealous to share). but when they're together they love to share you between them all. vox n val will use both your holes at once, while velvette kisses you n pinches your nipples til they turn red. they loveee to indulge themselves in their favorite plaything so they’re prone to overstimulating you. they will still use you even if you pass out, so you’ll be super sore the next day

[querenciasturniolo]

guest ⮕ m.s.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: swearing, awkward flirting, embarrassment

summary: request

a/n: this was requested by @rainsoakedphoenix, and i had SO much fun writing it (even though it took ages) ! sorry for the mix up, i hope this works 😭💓 i wrote this while watching the new season of heartstopper, which is AMAZING by the way

(this is like 89% dialogue, which i’m sorry if it wasn’t your vision, but i tried my best 🤞🏻)

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

“Good morning campers, and welcome to the Cut the Camera podcast. I’m Nick Sturniolo.”

“I’m Matt Sturniolo.”

“And I’m Chris.”

Your eyes flickered between the three of them, reaching your hands up to adjust your headphones. Nick finally turned his head to you.

“We have a special guest for this episode, introduce yourself.” He said.

You looked at one of the cameras and smiled, lifting your hand to wave.

“Hey, I’m Y/n.” You said, wincing slightly. “Jesus, that was awkward, someone else talk now.” Matt pulled a face, you looking over at him and mocking him playfully.

“Like some of you know, Y/n is one of our good friends from home. She hasn’t been in much of our content because she doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing, but that’s fine, we love her anyway.” Nick said. You scoffed and leaned back in the diner seat, pulling the mic with you.

“It’s not that I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m just an awkward piece of shit.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “S’not my fault your fans love watching me suffer.”

“Well that turned dark. Anyway, Y/n, why don’t you introduce the topic.” Chris said. You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Today we’re talking about how the four of us met, and how I’ve continued to endure their torture for so long.” You paused, Matt’s jaw slack as he looked over at you. You grinned and shook your head. “No, I’m kidding. They’re pretty great, I’m glad they’ve tortured me for this long.”

Chris scoffed. “You love us and you know it.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what I said, but if you want to get all mushy already, then yes, I love you guys.” You said.

Nick awed next to you, Matt leaning over and bumping your shoulder with his.

“You’ve always been the lovey-dovey one. Y/n has called me at like six o’clock on a random Tuesday before just to tell me she was thinking about me.” Nick said. You covered your face with your hands and groaned.

“God, why must you expose me? Let them think I’m dark and gloomy.” You grumbled.

Matt scoffed then, the audio coming through your headphones clear enough for you to peek an eye through your fingers. “None of them think you’re dark and gloomy, they’ve seen you in videos before, dude. Accept the fact that you’re a softy.” He teased, your jaw practically hitting the floor.

The conversation went on like this for about twenty minutes, the four of you talking and bickering back and forth. The conversation ran off the tracks quite a few times, and Matt tried reeling it back in as best as possible.

“So, back to the topic at hand—”

“Nick, what did you say?” Chris asked, completely cutting Matt off.

“I was just saying that was bullshit.” Nick said.

“Guys, what are we even—”

“How is what I just said bullshit?” Chris asked, the both of them in their own little world.

Matt sighed and looked at you, shrugging his shoulders. You turned to face him fully, resting your arm on the back of the booth. “So anyway, what’s an average day in the life of Matt Sturniolo?” You asked. Matt frowned and adjusted himself to face you completely.

“What?” He asked, pulling the mic towards him.

“What’s an average day in your life?” You repeated, raising your eyebrows.

Matt’s frown relaxed as he thought, shrugged, and finally spoke. “I’d say; wake up, shower, eat, go to meetings, come home, go to bed, repeat.” He held his hands out to count on his fingers, your eyebrows raising as you listened, no emotion on your face.

“Wow, riveting.”

Matt scoffed and shook his head, opening his hands and gesturing them towards you. “Please, tell me about your extraordinary day to day schedule, I’d love to hear it.”

“Of course you would. I happen to have a day packed full of important tasks.” You said, lifting your chin sarcastically.

“Oh, really? Name one.” He said, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, I work.” You started, Matt nodding and pursing his lips.

“Oh, you work, do you? And what do you do after that?” He asked, your eyebrows lifting and your jaw going slack.

“Well, if you must know, after work I go home and eat and then shower and go to bed.” You said matter of factly, Matt staring at you completely unamused.

“That has got to be the most boring play-by-play I’ve ever heard.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, and yours was better, Matt?”

“I think so. What do you do for work?” He asked, the corner of his lips turned up in a half smile.

You sighed and shrugged your shoulders. “Retail. It’s not the most glorious job, but it gets the bills paid.”

“Yikes, customer service.” He winced, to which you shrugged your shoulders again.

“Like I said, not the most glorious job. I deal with a lot of dickheads, but the regulars are nice.” You said, grabbing your cup and taking a sip of it. You jutted your chin at him. “It’s your turn to ask a question, I don’t think they’re gonna stop any time soon.”

Matt hummed and thought for a moment. “Um, what’s your favorite color?”

“That’s really the best you could come up with, Matt?” You said, a laugh leaving your lips as he looked at you in mock offense.

“At least it’s not as mundane as ‘what do you do everyday’, Y/n. Cut me some slack, I’m trying here.” He retorted, your hands going up before you answered.

“It’s blue.”

“Lame.” He said, your eyebrows furrowing.

“Matt, that’s literally your favorite color, too.” You said, Matt scoffing.

“You don’t know me.” He mumbled, a laugh bubbling out of you as you adjusted in your seat, scooting the slightest bit towards him.

“I’ve known you my entire life, you dork. That argument is invalid.” You said.

Matt pursed his lips and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, really studying him for the first time in awhile. You reached forward and lightly pinched a lock in your fingers and twirled it. “Your hair is getting long.” You said. There was something in Matt’s eyes that you couldn’t quite place, but the apples of his cheeks were tinged pink.

“Yeah, I need to cut it soon.” He said, his voice quiet.

You nodded your head, letting go of the lock of hair and resting your hand back on the booth centimeters away from his. “If that’s what you want.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he lightly jabbed the tips of your fingers with his.

You paused, realizing how passive it had sounded. You immediately shook your head. “No, oh my God, nothing! It was just an observation.” You said, resting your hand on his.

“So you wouldn’t care if I shaved my head?” He asked, mischief glinting in his eyes. Somehow, your fingers ended up entwined, but both of your palms were resting on the back of the booth. It was comfortable, but new, and you didn’t know exactly how to navigate this. You shrugged your shoulders and pulled your headphones off of your head and rested them around your neck.

“I wouldn’t care, no. Just because I think your hair looks cute long, doesn’t mean I’m going to freak out if you change it.” You said honestly. Matt blinked, processing your words before he replied.

“You think my hair looks cute long?” He asked. You nodded your head, ignoring the burning in your face.

“That is what I just said, yes.” You said, trying to sound like it was no big deal

“Wow, admitting you think I’m cute on recording? That’s crazy.” You could tell he was teasing, and by the color of his cheeks, you could tell he didn’t mind.

You cocked an eyebrow, tilting your head to the side as your smile grew. “Are we just going to ignore the fact that you’ve been practically holding my hand for this entire conversation?”

“I haven’t?” He said, immediately pulling his hand from yours and resting it in his lap, his eyes darting downward. You smiled and shook your head, teasingly gesturing around the room.

“Matt, it’s literally on camera, from multiple angles.” You said, Matt’s eyes meeting yours. He studied your face and eventually smiled and rolled his eyes, the awkward tension he was radiating before slowly dissipating.

“Yeah, okay, whatever.” He mumbled, adjusting his headphones before meeting your eyes again. You opened your mouth to speak, but were quickly interrupted.

“Oh my God, this is honestly disgusting.”

You whipped your head around to Nick, your eyes wide as he met you with an incredulous stare.

“You guys have been flirting like, the entire time. I’m surprised I haven’t thrown up yet.” He finished, your face on fire as your eyes flickered to Chris’ amused smile.

“Honestly, Nick and I stopped arguing like, five minutes ago. We just wanted to see how long it would take the two of you to notice.” You looked back at Matt, who was awkwardly laughing into his hands and shaking his head. “Clearly, way too fucking long. Can we get back to the topic of our joint childhoods now?” Chris finished.

You cleared your throat and nodded, adjusting yourself in the booth so you were facing forward and your shoulder was to Matt.

“Where were we again?” You asked, Nick jumping into the conversation effortlessly.

The rest of the podcast went smoothly, the four of you in almost perfect harmony for the rest of the time, the little embarrassing interruption nearly forgotten.

It was nearly forgotten until Matt’s hand rested over yours under the table and entwined with yours. You felt your face heat up and the corners of your mouth twitch, but you didn’t say anything or make anything obvious.

Matt was your best friend, and as affectionate as the two of you were, hand holding was never on the list until now—and honestly, you didn’t mind.

[batsplat]

Wait what’s the tea on Valentino’s sleep patterns 👀👀 (fellow insomniac / recent motogp fan always looking for more representation)

oh yeah, if you're looking for representation for poor sleeping habits you've very much come to the right place. his sleep patterns are pretty remarkable you have to say. way too nocturnal for a professional athlete, reliant on naps to get through the race weekend, all power to him for somehow making that work and winning all those titles. pretty sure I've read somewhere that he's still known for doing sim races at ungodly hours these days, just how he lives his life

tbh I can't remember off the top of my head where I'd actually read about his sleeping patterns, but I've cobbled together a decent selection of quotes from the usual sources. the most interesting stuff he's said on the topic is in his autobiography - where he goes into rather a lot of detail about his preference for the night. given that it's quite a lengthy passage, I've chucked it under the cut. he frames his nocturnal inclination as not only suiting his natural body clock better, but also as a way of escaping the rest of the world - of being able to move around in peace and silence and anonymity. plus, he liked to spend his nights in the garage to... *pinches bridge of nose* have some special personal time with his bike, when it was just the two of them. take that as you will

before that, let's just start with a few more general descriptions of his sleeping patterns. from early in his career, jerez 1998 (from oxley's vr files):

The camper only holds two people, but that's okay. I don't like my dad to sleep with me, because when it gets to ten o'clock he starts saying: "Vale, Vale, got to bed!", but I can't go to sleep before one or two. We did share a motorhome in '96 and it made life very, very difficult for me.

and about brno 1999 (from oxley's vr files):

On weekends when I'm not racing, I never go to bed before six or seven on Sunday morning. If it's a party, maybe even later, but going to bed at six in the morning is quite normal for me! Even when I was 14 I used to go to bed at 4am. Quite often I'd be riding around the local minimoto tracks until after midnight! If I go to sleep at 11 or 12 I just lie there, my eyes wide open. Maybe I would be good for 24-hour racing!

and then a few years into his premier class career, valentino says the following (x):

'I have a lot of energy after 2am,' Rossi agreed. 'I like to sleep in the morning. I have some problems at the start of the day.'

we've also got a description of crew chief jb's influence in terms of making sure valentino wasn't slacking off by sleeping in (from oxley's vr files):

Burgess' talents aren't restricted to getting the best out of a 500. The Aussie has been in GPs for decades and knows how to extract the best from riders as well. He expects 100 per cent commitment both on the track and in the pits, and when he doesn't get that, he gives 'em hell. Some other crew chiefs won't do that - they're too overawed by their riders' superstardom. JB laid down the law last summer when late-sleeper Rossi turned up late for practice. Rossi suggested that in future one of the crew should be despatched to his motorhome each morning to make sure he was out of bed. No way, said Burgess, I'll be there to give you your wake-up call. Rossi's not overslept since.

and from 2001, in valentino's own words:

Q: Tell us about your sleeping habits, JB has had to wake you a few times for practice... VR: I never go to bed before 1 o'clock, and there's no limit on when I go to bed, but even when I go to sleep very late I always wake up at 8.30, though when I do wake up I always have a big confusion for the first five minutes, then after that I remember: "Oh fuck, I'm at world grand prix!" So I have a shower and then I'm okay. I never get up too close to riding time because the 500 is a dangerous bike so it's necessary to be awake when you climb aboard. Back in the afternoon after practice at four or five o'clock I'll sleep for another hour.

only semi-related but valentino's also talked about... you know, this generational shift - where the sport has become more professionalised, which is reflected in certain lifestyle changes (from barker's rossi biography):

"The next generation is always stronger. They are more professional, they put more effort in, they make a perfect life, they eat in a good way, they don't drink, they go to sleep early, they train every day from the morning to the night... I come from an era where the riders drank beer and smoked cigarettes!"

also plenty of talk of jet lag obviously... doesn't struggle with it too much headed westwards because he says he basically lives on american time anyway. the other direction is tougher, but in his youth he decided that he might as well try to continue living on italian time. so he essentially went racing at 5 in the morning (about phillip island 1998, from oxley's vr files):

I don't have a problem with jet lag, I always sleep. Last year in Indonesia I stayed on Italian time for the whole grand prix - so I was racing at five in the morning! But the difference is too great to do that in Australia.

how on earth are you racing motorcycles like that. mind you, he won that 1997 indonesia race

so yeah. king of disordered sleeping. given the nature of motogp schedules and how they do kind of require you to actually get up in the mornings, congrats to him for being remotely functional during race weekends. crazy how he even won the odd race

and here's the autobiography passage:

My day, usually, begins in the afternoon. It’s as if I exist inside my own personal time zone. I live at night, because I love the night. Now, this might make you think I do goodness-knows-what in the wee hours, or that I don’t live the life of a professional athlete. It’s true, I don’t live the life of an athlete in the traditional sense — early to bed, early to rise and all that — but this does not mean that I’m not careful about what I eat and drink or that I don’t train. In fact, I train a lot, both in the gym and on the bike. It’s just that I go to the gym in the afternoon, rather than the morning. Equally, when I’m training on the bike, down at the quarry, I always go in the afternoon, never at nine o'clock in the morning. My body has a certain type of metabolism. It is used to living according to a different body clock. That’s why, even if I’m travelling all over the world, I don’t experience jet lag and I rarely go to bed before 3 a.m. It’s much more likely that I’m just tucking into bed as people are leaving for work. As I say, I have a special relationship with the night. I like moving in it, living in it, thinking in it, relaxing in it. The night fascinates me, because it’s the period of least confusion. The world calms down, it goes quiet. And, besides, I’m Valentino Rossi. I’m wanted... I'm a fugitive. Yes, I’m always running away from my _ beloved countrymen. The Italians. I’m proud to be Italian, I'm proud of our merits and I regret our shortcomings. Italians are exceptional people. In every way. Even when they start loving you. Because that’s actually when problems can arise — if it’s you that the Italian falls in love with. Italian people are warm, empathetic, spontaneous. But they can also be excessive, oppressive and disrespectful. I don’t know who said that Italians will forgive everything except for success. Whoever it was, they were right. Because it’s absolutely true. After the 1997 season, I could tell I was becoming popular. Year after year, that popularity turned into fully fledged love. They’re in love with me now and, as a result, since the 2004 season, I’ve been a man on the run. And there’s no escape, no end in sight, because wherever I go they find me. There are simple things, the little pleasures in life, which I simply can’t engage in when I’m back in Italy. I can’t go to the bar and have a cappuccino, because I would not be able to drink it. To be fair, I can do it in Tavullia, but that's the only place. If I go more than a few kilometres in any direction from the centre of town, that's it, everything changes and I become, once again, a hunted man. I can’t walk into a store, look at something and decide what I want to buy. In fact, I can’t stop anywhere, not even at a petrol station. If I stop, I’m screwed. Somebody will recognise me (Italians are exceptionally good at recognising people), make a lot of noise, call other people and then, before I know it, I’ve been swallowed up by the crowd. If I schedule a meeting with someone, we have to meet in a secret, out-of-the-way location and, even then, we can't linger. I can't go to a restaurant if there are too many people inside. And if I do go, I can't go at a normal time, say eight o'clock. I have to go later, much later, when people are leaving. And I can't sit where I like, I have to hide away in a corner, in the shadows. As for places like cinemas or the beach, forget about it. They are just always off-limits.

Having said that, I do mix with people. I do it because I like doing it. It’s just that I wish I could do it as a normal person, because, deep down, I am a normal human being. This is part of the reason why I have to live at night. It would be that much tougher during the day, with all those people about. Plus, I don’t like the traffic, the chaos, the noise, all those people running all over the place, stressed out and out of breath. The night is different. Everything is softer, there are fewer people around and you are much more free. It’s like a parallel dimension. The world is different at night. Everything is different. That’s why I’ve assimilated the lyrics of a song by the Italian artist Jovanotti, “Gente. della notte” (“People of the night”). It has become my personal anthem. Jovanotti is one of my favourite singers and I find myself agreeing with him on most things. I love his work. What else can I say? The night is my reality. And I don’t change just because Grands Prix are scheduled during the day. My way of being and living is reflected in what I do during races. I don’t really change. Obviously, I don’t go to bed at dawn, but let’s just say that when I do, finally, go to bed, there aren’t many people around. Everything is better at night in the paddock. There is silence, the people _ have disappeared and, with them, the chaos. I can wander around freely, most of all I can enjoy the empty pit area and my bike. Yes, my bike. Because at night I often slip into the team garage. At some races I do it every single night, because I love being with my bike. My night-time activities can be traced back to the years racing in 125cc, and are directly tied to my passion for aesthetics and the stickers, which would later become my obsession. I don’t leave anything to chance'when it comes to choosing the colour or the stickers for my bike. That’s why I’ve always been central to any and all discussions when we were deciding the aesthetics of my racing bikes. I’ve done it always, with every bike, at every level, with every team. And, naturally, I still do it today. Nobody has ever been allowed to attach a single sticker to my bike, unless it was the logo of a technical sponsor. Until a few years ago I was totally inflexible about this. Now, Roby takes care of the number: he attaches it because then he needs to cover it in transparent paint. But apart - from -this, which is primarily a technical procedure anyway, I take care of everything else to do with the stickers. And this takes time and planning, which is why I started going to the garage at night. During the day it is packed with people. There are mechanics, technicians and others around. I would just get in the way, if I wanted to get near the bike just to check the stickers. As I got older and progressed from 125 to 250 and then to 500 and on to MotoGP, I maintained that passion for aesthetics and stickers, as well as the habit of dropping in on the team garage at night. I enjoy the bike during the day _ obviously, but my relationship with the bike is so special that I can spend hours with it, just looking and admiring it, making sure that everything is in order. Those are very personal moments which I find difficult to describe. The Japanese guys, both the executives but also the engineers never knew this, not the guys at Honda, not the ones at Yamaha. I don’t think they would really understand. They would probably view it as a waste of time, since I don’t actually do anything concrete. I never touch anything to do with the bike itself, beyond, obviously, the stickers. And yet I find it hard to explain to an engineer that I enjoy simply being near the bike, even when I’m not doing anything. It’s a complicated concept to explain: the risk is that people will think that you're crazy.

During the day everything happens so quickly, frenetically, neurotically. However, there is a sacrosanct moment when I need to step away and isolate myself. Once my commitment to the team is over, usually around 5.30 p.m., I retire to my motorhome, relax and take a nap. It usually lasts a couple hours and then I go out. There’s always something to do after dinner. Of course, the range of options depends on how many friends are around. I really start enjoying the paddock around ten o'clock at night. Before going to sleep I check on the bike again and then I go into the team motorhome, which serves as an office. Now that I’m at Yamaha, I have an office all to myself. That’s where I keep all my race gear. I do this for two reasons. My own personal motorhome is an absolute mess, nothing more fits in there and I probably couldn’t find anything amid all the junk. Plus, the office is where I change into my racing suit before going out on to the track. Thus, at night, after going to the pits to see the bike, I go to make sure that all my stuff is where it should be: gloves, suit, socks, boots . . . everything needs to be perfect, because I just don’t have time in the morning to hunt around for stuff. Thus, each morning I have to follow a very precise routine. I’m like a robot, everything is the same each day. Because the truth is that I need to be like clockwork. I just don’t have the time to think. Somebody generally comes to wake me up — usually it’s Jeremy, because he doesn’t trust my ability to wake up on my own! I then get up, wash my face (my eyes are still shut at this point) and try to stay awake as I ride the scooter from the motorhome to the pits. I then go up to the office and get dressed. There too everything is done mechanically. It takes the slightest hiccup to throw everything off, forcing me to be late to the testing.

"I find it hard to explain to an engineer that I enjoy simply being near the bike, even when I’m not doing anything. it’s a complicated concept to explain: the risk is that people will think that you're crazy" well -

[dixons-sunshine]

You Are My Sunshine | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: Being pregnant was a challenge, and being pregnant in an apocalypse came with a whole set of challenges on its own. Luckily, you had Daryl to take care of you, even if he was a little bit overprotective.

Genre: Fluff

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour war, pre the building of the bridge.

Warnings: Swearing, probably other things I can’t think of right now.

A/N: I don’t really know if pregnant ladies not being allowed to lift heavy things is factual or not. I just remembered someone telling me once that it could be harmful for the unborn child, and I’ve seen it being mentioned in movies and shows before, so I went based off of that. If it isn’t true, please pretend that it is for my sake lol.

“I know ya can, but it dun’ mean ya have to. Ya need’a take it easy.”

“Daryl, I'm perfectly capable of carrying it myself, you know.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, a small smile spreading over your face. “Dar, I have to do something. I can’t let everyone else do everything while I sit on my ass all day.”

“Yer pregnant. I ain't lettin’ ya overwork yerself. Anyone have a problem with that, let me know and I’ll handle ‘em. I ain’t lettin’ anythin’ happen to our baby jus’ ‘cause some people can’t pick up the slack and ya have to do their work for ‘em.”

“I highly doubt carrying one crate is gonna do anything,” you stated matter-of-factly, walking at a steady pace beside the archer while he was carrying the crate in question back to the pantry.

“Ain’t riskin’ it,” Daryl retorted with a sense of finality, pushing the crate onto one of the shelves before turning to you. He took a step towards you and placed a gentle hand on your growing bump, looking at you with a soft expression. “Ya and this baby, our baby, are the most important people in the world to me. I ain’t lettin’ nothin’ happen to the two of ya. If that means carryin’ a crate so that ya can rest or fightin’ off a herd of walkers so that yer safe, so be it. I’d do anythin’ for you and our lil’ one.”

You smiled softly at the archer you’ve grown to love above everything else. You leaned forward to press a quick, gentle peck on his cheek before leaning back, giggling at the bashful look and blush that coated Daryl’s face from the small action. “Sorry,” you said with a light laugh, aware of his feelings towards public displays of affection. “You’re just too adorable sometimes, you know that?”

That elicited a scoff from Daryl. He withdrew his hand from your bump and stepped back, ducking his head down to let his hair hide the growing blush on his face. “I ain’t adorable,” he retorted quietly.

“You are,” you responded with a light laugh. “There’s nothing you can say that’ll change my mind about that. You, Daryl Dixon, are adorable, sweet, caring and so much more. There honestly aren’t enough adjectives in the dictionary to describe how perfect you are to me.”

Daryl scoffed again. He shook his head at you, but you could see his mouth twitch up into a small smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Nah,” he started, glancing at you through the hair that hung in front of his eyes. “Yer the perfect one. ‘M lucky to call ya mine.”

“Don’t start with me, Dixon. We can go back and forth about who’s more perfect all day,” you joked, successfully gaining a small chuckle from him in response.

“Alright,” he started, taking a step forward to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “I ain’t about to start an argument with the pregnant lady.”

“If that’s the case, does that mean I can help out with the tasks around here?” you asked, batting your eyelashes up at him innocently.

Daryl scoffed and shook his head. “Nah, that I ain’t lettin' happen. I was talkin’ ‘bout petty arguments. Ya need to take it easy and rest. Leave the work to the people who ain’t got unborn babies in their bellies they have to worry ‘bout.”

“Daryl—” you started, about to voice your protest, but the archer cut you off.

“None of that,” he stated with a shake of his head, his tone stern. “Ya remember the times ya wouldn’t let me do much to help out when I was hurt? I could help jus’ fine then too, but ya were worried ‘bout me and takin’ care of me. Let me take care of ya now, alright? Ya have more at stake here than tearin’ a few stitches.”

You pondered over his words for a few moments, hesitantly nodding after a few seconds. “Alright,” you finally agreed with a small sigh. “I haven’t really been getting much sleep these past few days. I guess I can go take a nap or something if that’ll make you feel better.”

“Hey,” Daryl started, taking one of your hands in his. “This ain’t ‘cause I think yer incapable to help out or somethin’. I know ya can, but I would feel better knowin’ yer not accidentally overworkin’ yerself. I’ve seen it happen before. Ya’d get so focused on a task and would overwork yerself without even knowin’ it. I dun’ want that to happen to ya right now.”

“Okay,” you nodded, willing the feelings of being useless away at the archer’s reassuring words, knowing he spoke nothing but the truth. “But the moment you guys desperately need an extra pair of hands, promise me you’ll come get me?”

Daryl nodded half-heartedly, and you could tell that even if he promised he would, he probably wouldn’t come get you. He’d put yours and your baby’s safety above everything else, even at the cost of a few extra hours of work for him and the other Alexandrians.

You leaned up on your toes to press a feathery light kiss to his lips before withdrawing. You gave him a smile before turning to walk out of the pantry towards the home you shared with him. As soon as you reached the front door of your home and pushed inside, you shrugged off your jacket and kicked off your shoes, discarding them by the table next to the entrance. You looked at the expanse of the quiet house and sighed, knowing you’d be alone until the sun started to set.

Well, you thought to yourself, I might as well make the best of my time alone. You went towards the kitchen to get a glass of water before descending up the stairs towards your room. You changed into something more comfortable before settling down on the bed, grabbing the book you were busy reading and flipping to the page you were busy with. You absentmindedly placed one hand over your stomach, the other holding the book as your eyes started to trail over the words on the page.

After a while, the words on the page started to blur together. You blinked repeatedly, hoping to clear your vision, but to no avail. Your eyes fell closed on their own accord, and within a few moments, you were asleep.

The feeling of the bed dipping beside you awoke you from your slumber. You opened your eyes and brought one of your hands up to wipe the sleep out of your eyes. When your vision cleared, you locked eyes with Daryl, the man having a faint, soft smile on his face.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake ya,” he apologized, bringing a hand up to brush the stray hair back and away from your eyes.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, bringing yourself up to a sitting position. You grabbed the book that you had read before falling asleep and placed it on your bedside table, before shifting your attention back to the archer.

Daryl was seated on the edge of the bed, busy pulling his boots off of his feet. When he was done, he laid back against the headboard, bringing his legs up to rest on the bed. His shoulders were slightly slumped, his posture giving away how tired he was. You furrowed your eyebrows at that. The workload hadn’t been that much that day, and as soon as the people were done they could return to their homes, so you couldn’t understand why Daryl looked so tired. Unless...

“Daryl,” you began softly, instantly catching the archer’s attention. “Did more work come in while I was here at home?” Daryl’s silence was enough of an answer. “Daryl—”

“S’fine. Nothin’ we couldn’t handle. Jus’ some buildin’ materials Maggie and the King sent us from their communities to fix up more houses. Rick wanted to get started on the repairs today, so Aaron and I got some people together to start.”

“Daryl,” you started, shaking your head. “I told you that if you needed an extra pair of hands to come and get me.”

“Nah, we were fine. Ya clearly needed the rest.”

“But—” you started to retort, but Daryl cut you off instantly.

“Michonne told me that really heavy liftin’ ain’t good for a pregnant lady. Said it can hurt the baby, so I didn’t want ya carryin’ logs and other heavy materials around. The rest of us can handle that.”

“When did you talk to Michonne?” you asked skeptically, your eyes narrowing in suspicion.

A sheepish look graced Daryl’s features. He avoided your gaze and instead focused his eyes on the bedsheets. “About a week after we found out that yer pregnant,” he admitted, nervously chewing on his bottom lip. “I was askin’ her and Carol what I could do to help make yer pregnancy easier, what would help with yer mornin’ sickness and what ya should avoid doin’, and she told me that ya needed to refrain from liftin’ heavy things. Said it could harm the baby.”

“So that’s why you’ve been so against me helping out around here?” you asked, earning a nod of confirmation from Daryl.

“Yeah. Most of the work we gotta do ‘round here involves heavy liftin’, and I didn’t want ya accidentally hurtin’ yerself or our lil’ one ‘cause of it. That’s why I’ve been so adamant about ya takin’ it easy,” he confirmed, ducking his head in embarrassment. “I didn’t wanna be overbearin’, but ya really wanted to help out with everythin’ and the thought of somethin’ goin’ wrong ‘cause of all the hard work we have to do was too much for me to handle. M’sorry.”

You gently grabbed Daryl’s hand, bringing it up to softly kiss his knuckles. “Why are you sorry? For not wanting anything to happen to me or our baby? You don’t have anything to apologize for. If anything, I should be apologizing.”

“For what?” Daryl asked confusedly, intertwining your fingers with his.

“For being so adamant about working. I just... I didn’t want to feel useless. I didn’t want to feel like a burden because I couldn’t help out.”

Daryl’s eyebrows furrowed, his lips pressing together tightly. “Yer not a burden. Dun’ ever think that. Yer carryin’ a life in yer belly, and that’s takin’ up most of yer energy and time. If anybody has a problem with the fact that ya can’t work as hard as ya used to for the next few months ‘cause yer pregnant, let me know and I’ll beat their ass.”

You smiled at him and pressed a kiss to his lips. When you pulled back, you could feel tears starting to form in your eyes. Daryl noticed it and frowned, concern lacing his voice.

“What’s wrong?” he asked frantically, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks gently. He wiped away the tears that fell with his thumb.

“Hormones,” you said simply, laughing through your tears. “I don’t even really know why I’m crying.”

“C’mere,” Daryl said, wrapping his arms around you and guiding you to lay your head down on his chest. You shifted your body until your were comfortable, wrapping your arms around him as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Daryl’s arms wrapped around you, one of his hands venturing down to your baby bump. He gently started to caress your stomach, his hand’s soft movements making you sleepy almost instantly.

“M’sorry for bein’ so overprotective,” Daryl voiced after a few moments of silence, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“And I’m sorry for being so stubborn. I promise I’ll be more careful and take it easier from now on,” you promised, nuzzling your head deeper into his chest.

“Thank god,” he sighed in relief. “Any more of yer stubbornness and I would’a been forced to lock ya in the house whenever there was work to do.”

You laughed and lightly hit one of his arms that were wrapped around you, eliciting a chuckle from the archer. “I love you,” you mumbled into his chest.

“I love ya too,” he responded, placing another kiss on your head. "Now get some more rest. I'll be right here when ya wake up.”

You nodded against his chest and closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat, your own personal lullaby. As your eyes drifted closed for the second time that day, you swore you could hear Daryl start to hum a song. A song you’ve been singing to your baby in your stomach since you found out you were pregnant.

You are my sunshine.

A smile formed on your face as Daryl lowly continued to hum the song, his hand still gently caressing your stomach. With the gentle caress of his hand, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the song he was humming, you soon drifted into slumber, safe in your archer’s arms.

[piedinthepiper]

Liked ★

Yandere!Seokjin x fem!reader

Summary: You liked him, liked as in past tense. Liked as in you didn’t like him anymore. He didn’t believe it for a second, and he’ll do anything to make you like him again.

Warnings: Cursing, stalking, Jin is kinda narcissistic?, he’s also mean and delusional, possessiveness, jealousy, voyeurism, smut, drugging, implied kidnapping

Wc: 5.9k

A/n: based on this req! Love the idea, hope you like it!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

He met you through Jimin. You were one of Jimin’s best friends, it seemed like he had known you for a long time.

So who were he to ruin Jimin’s image of you, and tell him that you were just so annoying. You were pretty yes, but it was something about your laugh. Something about the way you talked. It just rubbed Jin the wrong way. There are some people you just don’t click with, he thought to himself. As he looked at you from across the table. Some people are just not meant to be friends, and that’s ok. The only problem is that Jimin brought you with him no matter what. It was always “can y/n come?”. He asked Jimin once why he brought you around all the time.

“She just broke up with her boyfriend. Cut her some slack man.”

He had answered. But it had been eight months. Which, in his opinion, was more than enough time to heal from a breakup. But you still showed up. Every. Single. Time.

“What are you going to order, Jin?”

You asked him, looking back at him from across the table. You were slightly blushing for some reason. Everyone’s eyes turned to him, waiting for his response. In all honesty, he had been too busy thinking about you, to even read the menu.

“I don’t know yet.”

He answered in a stern voice.

“I really like the lobster here, it’s really good.”

Jin almost rolled his eyes at your comment.

“Really? Well I guess I’ll order that!”

He said with an overly excited tone. Not being able to control the sarcasm in his voice. Thankfully the waiter came before you could answer him. Everyone started saying their order, before it was his turn.

“I’ll have the salmon.”

He said and looked briefly over at you. To see if you’d have a reaction. You looked puzzled down at the menu for a second.

“I’ll have the salmon as well.”

“Wait! Jin, wait for me!”

You yelled after him, trying to run in your high heels. He had finally been able to leave. And thankfully he was able to mostly converse with Namjoon during the dinner. He had almost made it into the taxi, but you caught him. He couldn’t just shut the door in your face. He’s not directly mean to you, at least he tries not to be directly mean to you. But god, you were so annoying! Why couldn’t you just take a hint and leave him alone?

“What?”

You were a little out of breath, and needed a moment to catch your breath before talking.

“I was just- I live on the way to your place. Maybe we could, you know, share a taxi?”

He mentally cursed himself for not shutting the door in your face. Cause now he had to actually be alone with you for at least 10 minutes.

“Oh come on, I’ll pay for myself don’t worry.”

You said when you saw him hesitating.

“Fine.”

He simply answered and jumped in the backseat. Not caring to find an excuse.

“So, did you have fun tonight?”

You asked him once the taxi started moving. He sighed. Now he had to small talk with you as well.

“Yeah it was alright.”

He shrugged. He could see in his peripheral view that you were looking at him.

“The salmon was so good! You were so right about that one.”

You tried again, once he didn’t take the conversation further.

“I didn’t say anything to you about it. You just copied me.”

You laughed, thinking that he was just joking.

“You’re so funny!”

You said in between laughs, and even went as far as leaning over him in a fit of laughter. He sat completely still. Not engaging with you what so ever. Once you realised, you sat back up.

“We should go out for dinner more together. I think it would-“

“Please y/n! Just shut the fuck up!”

He suddenly bursted out. He didn’t mean to. It just came out.

“You don’t have to talk all the time. You’re so annoying!”

He looked at you, your smile was no where to be seen. And for some reason he missed it already.

“I’m sorry.”

He quickly mumbled, hoping that your lips would turn at least a little bit upwards. But they didn’t. You looked away from him, turning your face completely towards the window. Your entire body was trying the get the furtherest away from him as possible, and it hurt him for some reason. He sighed. Your place was coming up, he would probably feel better once you left the car. Out of sight, out of mind.

“I talk so much because I like you, Jin.”

You said, barley above a whisper. He looked back at you. The taxi stopped, signalising for you to get out.

“I really liked you.”

You gave him a last devastating look before opening the door and stepping out. You shut the door in his face before he could answer. It didn’t matter, he was left speechless. And he did in fact not feel any better now that you left the car. He felt even worse.

“Liked” you said you “liked him”. As in past tense. As in you didn’t like him anymore. He was laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn’t sleep, and when he can’t sleep he starts thinking. It had been a week since the incident in the taxi. The incident where you said you “liked” him. Whatever that meant.

He would give you an apology next weekend. Pull you aside before you sit down at the table. Explain that he was just tired, that he didn’t mean it. In the moment he meant it, but he didn’t mean to say it out loud. He was amazed by the fact that he actually felt sorry for you. He didn’t like you, so why was he so obsessed with getting you to like him? Maybe he liked you more than he thought? Nah. He told himself before rolling over and closing his eyes. Trying to think of something or anything else.

Friday came around eventually, and he was ready to meet the boys (and you) at a restaurant. He walked in, a little earlier than usual. He had to pull you aside before you sat down, just so it didn’t get awkward.

“You’re early today, what’s up bro?”

Jimin lit up once he saw Jin approaching the table. He sat down beside Jimin, briefly looking at the empty seat next to him.

“Where’s y/n?”

He asked once he realised it was only the two of them. You always arrived with Jimin. He always picked you up, even if it was a longer route. Jin felt weird just thinking about it. What if Jimin had feelings for you? Why would he go to such lengths if he didn’t? The feeling in his chest couldn’t be described as anything but jealousy.

“She’s not feeling well.”

He simply commented.

“Why?”

He asked with a smug face, slightly poking him in the side with his elbow. Jin rolled his eyes, leaning away from him.

“She’s always with you, it’s not weird that I’m asking.”

He scolded his younger friend. Jimin stopped, but giggled slightly at his defensiveness.

“Whatever you say man.”

Jimin said, before changing the topic. Jin wondered if you truly was sick, or if you just didn’t want to face him. You didn’t strike him as a cowardly person. You would probably show up if you could. So the only explanation to why you wouldn’t show up to hear his apology, must be that you were sick of course.

But two weeks after that, you didn’t show. Two months passed and still no sign of you. Jin wanted to ask Jimin, but he didn’t want Jimin to think he actually cared. But he did care. He wanted to apologise for being a dick, that’s all. His conscience needed to be cleared for him to move on. At least that’s what he told himself. The first weekend after the two month mark, (not that he kept track of the time or anything), the boys went to watch a football game. It was weird that you didn’t show, considering that you loved football. You wouldn’t miss out. So Jin decided to ask again.

“Is y/n still sick? Did she fucking break her leg or something?”

He asked Jimin once they had found their places.

“I don’t know man. I asked her if she wanted to come, she said she was going with someone else.”

He said and shrugged. Someone else? Why was he hurt that you would rather go with someone else?

“Ok, I’ll go get a beer. Anyone want one?”

Namjoon was the only one who raised a hand, small excuses of work in the morning was heard from the others. He squeezed out of the row of seats. He needed to clear his head, he had to stop this obsession he had with you. After the game he would call you, and if you didn’t pick up he would go to your house. Enough was enough, he had to see you.

“Jin?”

Your voice made him turn around. There you were, two beers in hand and the familiar blue shirt of your favourite team. Your hair was in a ponytail, so he could clearly see your entire face. And you were smiling. Smiling at him like what happened two months and a week ago was ancient history.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?”

He mentally face palmed himself for asking something so obvious. You looked down at your shirt and back up at him.

“The same reason you are, I suppose.”

He laughed awkwardly, before you both went quiet.

“Look, y/n. I just wanted to ap-“

“Hey, babe. I’ll hold these for you.”

A man’s voice interrupted him. He looked at the man who approached you take your beers. You looked at him as well before looking back to Jin.

“I’m sorry, this is my boyfriend Hoseok.”

Jin was left speechless at your choose of words to describe the man. You had a boyfriend now?! The feeling of jealousy started to spread through his chest again.

“This is Jin, Jimin’s friend.”

You told this Hoseok, when he didn’t answer. Jimin’s friend? That was it? He was offended by the fact that you didn’t view him as more. You had a crush on him for gods sake!

“I’d shake your hand man, but you know.”

He raised the beers in his hand awkwardly. Jin still kept quiet. Not wanting to utter a simple word to the man you dared calling your boyfriend.

“I’ll catch up with you, just go back to the seats, ok?”

You told your boyfriend, and he happily complied walking away from the uncomfortable situation.

“Why are you acting so strange?”

He shook his head.

“I don’t know. I just- I thought you had a crush on me. But now you have a boyfriend, so.”

You smiled at him.

“I liked you, yeah. But after you rejected me in that taxi, I moved on. It’s not that deep, some people just don’t click.”

His stomach turned into knots, he hated the way you sounded like him. He hated the way you spoke about him. That it wasn’t that deep? Well, it was really deep to him. Extremely deep actually.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I really am. I should’ve never said those things to you.”

He managed to apologise, regardless of the burning anger he felt inside. How dared you reject him? He rejected you first.

“Jin, it’s ok. Seriously. It’s all in the past.”

You patted his shoulder before taking a step away from him.

“Tell the boys I said hi.”

You said before walking away. This was not how this was going to end. He had spent two months and a week thinking about exactly how you would respond, and what would happen after. You were not supposed to be so nonchalant and run away to your new boyfriend. You were supposed to accept his apology and run into his arms. Maybe even give him a kiss and a blowjob for his effort to be so empathetic. He was going to make things right.

He couldn’t sleep again. How could he after you basically dumped him? So he started thinking. Why would you do such a thing? Why would you hurt him? He knows that he hurt you, but he apologised. So you should stop whatever prank you got going on and come back to the group. Come back to him. He really didn’t know why he felt this need for you. Before all this he literally couldn’t stand you. But now it’s like he yearned for you. And it was baffling to him that you didn’t feel the same.

Maybe you were just using that Hoseok guy to make him jealous. Yeah, that’s it. This was your payback. He laughed at the thought and sat up in his bed. Turning on the lamp on his nightstand. Might as well pay you a visit.

He payed the taxi driver before closing the door carefully. It was the middle of the night, not a soul to see in your neighbourhood. He looked up at your apartment building, he knew you lived on the seconds floor. The light in your living room was on. He quickly looked down at his phone. 02:38 am. You should’ve been asleep already.

He walked over to the other side of the road to get a better view of your living room. Trying to get a glimpse of you in your natural habitat. And to his surprise you were there. Completely naked. He felt a familiar feeling in his groin once he saw what was going on behind those walls. You were on the sofa on top of your new boyfriends dick. Your back was turned towards the window, giving Jin a perfect view of your ass bouncing up and down. Jin ripped his eyes away from you to check if anyone else was seeing this. But no lights were on, and no bystanders. What a freak you were, having sex right in front of a window where anyone could see.

Or maybe you were doing it for him? The curtains were slightly open, just enough open for him to see you. Maybe you didn’t shut them completely, for him? Maybe you hoped he would show up after the two of you met the same day? It was working for him. Mesmerised by the way your body moved in pleasure, he slid his hand into his pyjama bottoms. He couldn’t help himself. You looked so good, and you were so perfectly placed that he could see the dick going in and out of you. His only wish was hearing you. He wanted to hear you moan so bad. Suddenly you slowed down. Jin’s hand moved faster, trying to reach release before the show was over. Just one last bounce before you sank down beside him. Now facing the window. He continued, now seeing your heaving naked chest sprawled out on the sofa. He was close, very close. And once he saw you get up and walk towards the window completely naked, body glistening, tits slightly bouncing, he couldn’t help but feel a euphoric release.

Reality hit him immediately after. In the time it took for him to ride out his orgasm, you had made it to the window. Now staring directly at him. He quickly pulled his hand out of his trousers, turning around to face the wall immediately. The sticky wet spot that made the fabric of his pyjamas stick to his skin, was a shameful reminder. He didn’t know if you had seen him. He didn’t know if you were calling the police, or still looking at him. But he stood completely still, awaiting his destiny. After a few minutes he pulled his phone up from his pocket, calling for a taxi back to his place.

It wasn’t until he heard the taxi pull up he dared turning around. His eyes flickered up to the window. No sight of you, no sight of nothing. The curtains were shut completely this time.

It was Saturday, Jimin had invited the boys to his house for a few drinks and some food. Jin hadn’t gotten drunk in some time and quite frankly needed it to forget whatever madness happened the weekend before. So he gladly accept once Jimin proposed the idea in the group chat. Something he would regret.

“Can you get the door? I can’t let this burn man.”

Jimin asked and pointed to whatever he was making on the stove. Jin, being the first to show up that night was more than happy to welcome one of his mates, and walked over to the door.

“Jin! It’s so nice to see you again.”

You said and gave him a small hug as you stepped into Jimin’s apartment. He was left speechless. By you, but also by the man that followed you inside. You brought your boyfriend?

“Hey man!”

Hoseok said and stretched out his hand for him to shake. Jin just stood there looking at his hand. He couldn’t move. Too terrified that this was your way of revenge. You were going to expose him as the creep that jerked off outside your house to all his friends. And on top of that you brought your boyfriend to rub it even more in his face.

“You know what, I’m a hugger anyways.”

Hoseok laughed and pulled him in to a tight hug once he didn’t shake his hand. Once he pulled away from the hug, Jin smiled at him. He couldn’t risk getting on the bad side of Hoseok either. Maybe you told him?

“Sorry, Hoseok right?”

He asked and took his hand in his. Your boyfriend chuckled and nodded. What a ray of fucking sunshine of a boyfriend you got. Not completely different to himself, he thought.

“Oh please, just call me Hobi!”

He smiled before walking past Jin and following you inside. Jin continued to stand by the door for a second as he heard both you and your boyfriend greet Jimin in the kitchen. He had to talk to you. He had to pull you aside before you got the chance to reveal his big dirty secret. The boys would think he was disgusting, a creep, a weirdo. What the hell was he doing here? He had to run away. Run far far away and never come back.

“Are you ok?”

He got ripped out of his thoughts and realised the tall figure standing in front of him.

“Ah, Namjoon. You scared me.”

He tried to play off. As if he wasn’t standing in front of the open entrance door just staring out into the hallway.

“I’m ok yeah, but what about you? What have you been up to?”

He said and threw his arm around Namjoon’s shoulders, leading him into the apartment.

“Woah, ok. It’s only been a week since we last saw each other.”

An hour had passed. You still hadn’t said anything. Not even mentioned that night. He had taken a few shots out of agony and suspense. He couldn’t get drunk. No, not while you were a ticking bomb ready to ruin his image forever. He had to stay sober so he could defend himself whenever the situation arose. Or if he was lucky enough to get you alone so he could convince you, hell maybe even beg for you not to say anything. He would do anything for you. For you not to say anything, of course.

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

You announced, slightly intoxicated. You were so cute, your face a little red and your words a little slow.

“I have to go to the bathroom too!”

Jin quickly said, getting up quickly. The room got quiet. He realised he had said that a little loud and with a little too much excitement.

“Ok.”

You shrugged, walking away from the table. Everyone started talking again, meaning he was in the clear. He stumbled after you.

“After you, princess.”

You said as you proudly held the bathroom door open for him. He would’ve smiled at your joke if this wasn’t a serious situation.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go first.”

You mumbled and started unbuttoning your trousers. He nodded. He didn’t even have to pee.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t-“

“I’m not drunk enough to pee while you’re watching me.”

He panicked at your words and didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Oh- uh. Do you want me to leave?”

You laughed.

“No silly. Just turn around.”

He did as instructed.

“I’m sorry, ok? I should’ve never done that! Please, just don’t tell the others y/n. I won’t recover from it.”

He started pleading, still facing the door. You went quiet for a few seconds. He gulped, anxious of what you would answer.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

You said and flushed the toilet. He turned around knowing you were finished. You were struggling with the button of your jeans, but looking at him with a confused look.

“Are you playing with me? Please if you are, don’t, I can’t handle that right now.”

You started washing your hands.

“No, Jin. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Is this about that time in the taxi again? Cause I told you it’s ok.”

“No. I mean- uh. Yes?”

He didn’t know what to say. Did you really mean it? Had you not seen him that night? A wave of relief washed over him. If you were telling the truth he was the luckiest man alive.

“What?”

“It’s about last weekend.”

He tested, seeing if you would remember.

“And?”

You asked puzzled. He let out a breath of relief. You were completely clueless.

“I didn’t mean to be so awkward with your- ehhh, Hobi.”

He managed to get out, not wanting to call him your boyfriend out loud. Now that he wasn’t caught and labelled a total pervert, he still had a chance to win you back.

“My Hobi, huh? You’re cute Jin.”

You said as you unlocked the door.

“You’re forgiven by the way.”

You closed the door behind you, and he quickly locked it. He had never felt more relieved in his entire life. Maybe you weren’t looking at him, maybe you were just looking around to see if anyone saw? And maybe he was fortunate enough to be well enough hidden that night to not get caught. Well, he knew he would be more careful the next time. He shook his head, baffled by his own words. The next time? He thought as he flushed the toilet. He didn’t understand what he felt towards you, but he wanted there to be a next time. He wanted the next time to be him underneath you, not your stupid boyfriend. He unlocked the door and started walking down the hallway. He didn’t want to admit it to himself before, but maybe he actually liked you. Like, liked liked you. He sat back down at the table. Taking another shot now that he could actually get drunk.

“Ooo, where are you going?”

Jimin asked you. Jin hadn’t heard the first part of the conversation, but pretended he had been here the entire time.

“This very fancy spa hotel. He said it was an early birthday present.”

You said and looked lovingly at your boyfriend.

“Wow, you’re lucky! You must really love her, Hobi!”

“You’re leaving?”

Jin asked you, ignoring Jimin’s hilarious comment, and quite honestly he didn’t want to hear Hobi’s answer to that. You nodded.

“Yeah, next Friday.”

He took another shot, drowning the jealousy that was starting to bubble inside him.

“I just don’t know what to do with the cats. I’ve asked a bunch of people, but everyone’s busy.”

“I’ll watch them!”

Jin blurted out, almost too excited.

“Are you sure? I’ll pay you if you want to-“

“No, no need to pay me. Don’t have anything happening next weekend anyways.”

“Weren’t you going out of town to see your parents next weekend?”

Namjoon asked with confused brows. Jin mentally cursed him for almost ruining his plan.

“No, that’s the weekend after. I’m completely free next weekend, ready to watch some cats.”

You smiled at him, he had missed that smile so much. To ever think that he didn’t like your smile was insane. What was even more insane was the fact that he blindly said yes to watch your cats, just to be in your house. But he’ll happily feed those little fuckers if it meant that he had full access to your home.

“Again, thank you so much. You’re a life saver!”

You yelled out the window of your car as you and your boyfriend drove away. He waved goodbye as he watched the car slowly disappear in the horizon. Once you were gone he hurried into your apartment, ready to snoop around. He only did it to get to know you more of course. He wanted to know every single little thing about you that only your home could reveal. He sat down on the sofa on the exact spot where he saw you have sex. He felt the soft fabric between his fingers, thinking of that night. He slowly laid down face first, wanting to be close to the spot where you sat completely naked. He rubbed his cheek on it, slightly smelling hints of your perfume. He could stay like that forever. Just frolicking in your scent.

But one of your cats jumped up beside his face, ruining the moment. He got up, annoyed at the grey fluffy animal. He silently pushed the cat off, but when it once again jumped up beside him he decided to look around somewhere else.

He found the bathroom, opening up the cupboard next to the mirror. Some makeup, some skin care, tweezers, tampons. Nothing exciting. He opened the door to your shower, nothing but numerous soaps. He looked over at the bin for a second and wondered if he was willing to go that low. Once he saw your dirty laundry he decided against it. He opened the lid and started digging, a mixture of your perfume and your natural scent hit him. He had never been happier. He suddenly stopped and pulled out a singular thong. It was baby pink with lace. He imagined how good you would look in it. He stuffed it in his hoodie, deciding to venture off to your bedroom.

He immediately opened the nightstand, hoping for something good. And you delivered. Toys of all kinds in different flashy colours. He smiled as he picked up the hot pink dildo. He wondered if you ever thought of him while using it. The thought alone making his pants feel tighter. He walked back to the sofa, he knew what he wanted to do now.

Jin was watching tv in your house once he heard the door open. He knew you would be arriving that day, so he managed to be on his best behaviour and not jerk off in every room of your apartment that day. Small things to make you happy. He quickly got up to welcome you.

“You got home quite late, I was starting to worry.”

No he wasn’t, he knew exactly at what time you would be home. He found a copy of your reservation at the hotel and calculated the time it took for you to get here. But he wanted you to know that he cared.

“No need, I’m home.”

You gave him a forced smile. Something was wrong. A feeling of excitement rushed through him. You came home alone, did this mean that-? Did you really break up with Hobi? He held back a smile.

“Here let me help you.”

He said and reached for your suitcase. Your grip tightened.

“No it’s fine.”

You simply said and rolled it into your apartment. He headed you sigh. He wanted to wait a little longer to see if you would break. Hoping that you would tell him the good news and not let the suspense kill him.

“Can we talk?”

You asked and looked back at him, removing your coat. He nodded understandingly as he took your coat before you could protest and hung it up. You walked over to the kitchen table and sat down. Putting your head in your hands.

“Do you want something to drink? I can make you-“

“No, Jin. Please just sit down.”

You were visibly upset, so he followed up on your request. Sitting down opposite of you. You took a few seconds before you started talking.

“Do you care to explain why you did what you did while I was gone?”

You asked and looked up at him. He froze. This was not the good news he was expecting. This wasn’t happening. How could you know?

“What are you talking about?”

He said and tried to laugh it off. You shook your head.

“So you’re telling me you have no idea what I’m talking about?”

You asked strictly. He gulped.

“No, y/n. I’ve just been watching your cats. Did I do something wrong?”

You let out another sigh before you pulled up your phone. You touched the screen a few times before your turned it around, showing him exactly what you were talking about. He watched in horror as he saw himself in your bed with his hand around his dick. The other hand was holding your underwear under his nose.

“There are many more of these videos.”

You said as you retracted your phone.

“I don’t need to see them.”

He quickly answered as you put your phone back in your pocket.

“Fine, but I want to know why, Jin.”

His mind was racing. How the fuck was he supposed to dig himself out of this one? You had physical proof now. He couldn’t deny it anymore.

“I didn’t know I was being filmed.”

He muttered as a poor excuse.

“Me neither. I set those cameras up when I didn’t think I would find someone to watch the cats. Unfortunately for you I forgot to take them down.”

He went silent again, slipping his hands into his deep pockets. Feeling around, trying to come up with a solution.

“Please tell me you have a logical explanation for all this. Why did you masturbate every single day with my stuff while I was gone?”

You seemed more upset that you couldn’t make any sense out of it, compared to what he actually did. Maybe if he just confessed you would forgive him.

“I like you, y/n. No, I actually think I love you. I’m in love with you.”

He blurted out. You were taken aback at his sudden honesty.

“I don’t understand why, I used to hate you. I never liked you. But ever since the incident in the taxi I haven’t been able to take my mind off you.”

He reached for your hand over the table, but you quickly pulled away.

“I love you, y/n!”

“So why didn’t you tell me? Why did you do this instead? You realise how fucking crazy you sound right now, right?”

You snapped back at him. Coughing slightly afterwards at your sudden outburst.

“Let me make you a cup of tea, it’ll help with that cough.”

He said calmly. You shook your head.

“I don’t want tea, I want you to leave my house right now!”

“Please, can we just talk about this like adults? I don’t want to fight with you.”

You stopped, wanting to hear what he had to say.

“Let me put the kettle on, and I’ll tell you everything. Just please, I care about you.”

You touched your throat as you slowly nodded. He quickly got up and started the kettle.

“I did it because I didn’t want to ruin your relationship. I saw how happy you were with Hobi. I thought this was my only way to be close to you.”

He tried his best to get you to feel sorry for him. He knew you would be much better off with him than that excuse of a boyfriend you had. He just wanted to pull on your heartstrings. Even if it was completely a lie.

“I just- sorry. I’m sorry. But I’m crazy about you, y/n. I’ve never felt like this before. I didn’t know what to do.”

You looked down at the table as he prepared your tea.

“Do you want sugar and milk?”

He asked carefully.

“Just sugar.”

You answered after a few beats of silence. You were clearly fighting some sort of mental battle. But it was alright, he was going to make that decision for you.

“I really care about you. I’ve been nothing but a dick to you, I know. But I want to make it up to you.”

He placed the tea on the table before you. You stirred it a couple of times as you waited for the tea to get ready.

“It’s just really uncomfortable, Jin. Yes I used to have a crush on you but that doesn’t give you the right to do such things.”

You scolded him as you brought the cup to your mouth slightly blowing at the hot beverage.

“Again, I’m sorry.”

He said and bowed his head in fake defeat. This wasn’t his loss. Sooner than later you would be his.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you. I need time to think about all this. It’s all too much for me right now.”

You took a sip, feeling the sweet warm drink soothe your sore throat. You immediately took another big sip to get the feeling back.

“I get it. I’ll give you all the time you need when we get to your new home.”

He said bluntly. You crossed your eyebrows at his comment.

“My new home?”

He nodded.

“You’ll love it there. Just you and me. We can spend as much time as you’d want to heal all the shitty things I’ve done to you.”

You shook your head.

“What? What are you talking about?”

You felt your sight getting blurry, your body suddenly felt really heavy.

“What- what have you done to me?”

You slurred as you fell back in your chair. Tears forming in the corners of your eyes as you felt yourself loosing control of your body.

“It’s ok, baby.”

Jin got up from his chair and walked over to you. In your last efforts you slung yourself off the chair and onto the floor, trying to crawl away from him.

“I’m sorry, but I had to do this. I’m sure you’ll forgive me once you realise what an amazing life we’ll have together.”

He bowed down and grabbed you. Making you look at him. Finally you would be his and his only.

“Fuck you.”

You managed to say before the drugs made you close your eyes and fall limp in his arms. You looked beautiful, he thought. Like sleeping beauty just waiting for him to save you. It would probably take some time for you to forgive him, but like he said, he would give you all the time you needed. And eventually you would realise that you were made for each other. He would make sure of that.

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

[f0point5]

I know we have a different Y/N now but I saw those pictures of max playing padel and I just kept thinking about Max’s Y/N watching 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

i miss them

SAME. Ngl I saw the pictures and this just came to me so… I hope this satisfies your craving for them lol

*******************

“Once again,” you declare to Max as you enter the padel court, your hands full with water bottles, “I’m so glad you’re fast,”

“He’s only fast on wheels,” Lando jokes, shaking his head at Max as he takes a bottle. “Seriously, mate, Fernando is a great player, and so was Charles yesterday, so you are definitely the problem,”

Daniel and Fernando agree as they take their bottles, while Max gingerly waits for you to hand him his.

“It’s the- it’s my, like, shoes, mate. They’re sticky,” he defends himself indignantly while Lando and Daniel snicker. “I swear they’re-“

“Don’t worry,” says Fernando, clapping Max on the shoulder. “We tell them what it is in the champions group chat. Oh, no, we can’t, they’re not there,”

The snickering stops, and Lando and Daniel look like kids whose teacher has just asked them to hand in their homework.

“Well,” Lando huffs. “That was uncalled for,”

Everyone just laughs, and Daniel ruffles his hair.

The other three chug at their water while Max stands next to you, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It’s cute, how unused he is to not being good at something, even more unused to continuing to do that thing regardless. As much as you tease him, you’re immensely proud. You know that voice in his head telling him to stop embarrassing himself all too well. He’s been better at quieting his than you ever have yours.

“Honestly, it’s the wrong shoes,” he mutters to you, sliding one of his feet along the floor.

“I know, Maxy,” you say, tempted to kiss the pout right off his face. “But hey, you’re going home with me, so did you really lose?”

“That’s not worth extra points, so yes,”

“You know, I really thought we’d make it at least six months before I murdered you,” you say, poking him in the chest hard enough that he rubs at the spot over his heart.

“I don’t get it,” Max says, his face twisted in hopeless bewilderment. “How does being with you mean I won padel?”

“Mate, look at your girlfriend. You won life,” Daniel explains, coming up behind you to sling a damp arm around your shoulders.

“Danny, if you ever get that Red Bull seat, call me, because this dufus ain’t cutting it,” you joke, squeezing at his hip. Daniel laughs and lets go if you with a sticky pat to the back as Max groans.

“Naw, come on,” he says, sliding his arms around your waist as you cross your arms over you chest, purposely avoiding looking at him. “I don’t even care about padel,”

He doesn’t pull you closer, mindful that he’s sweaty, and you feel your heart ache a little. Max was the centre of his world, thousands of people spent their lives anticipating a flick of his wrist, but he never once took another person for granted.

“Cut him some slack,” Lando says, and you watch him pour some water over his curls with a grin. “He knows he won the lottery,”

You frown at that. “He didn’t.” You finally turned to Max, looking up at his flushed cheeks and glassy ocean eyes as you press a palm to his cheek. “the lottery is luck. He got me on purpose,”

He smiles at that, hands ghosting over your hips as he lets go of you. “Who cares about being a padel champion?”

You shrug, brushing some hair away from his forehead, just to touch it. “I’d rather go home with a four time world champion anyway,”

[just-some-little-lads]

My Love, Like Winter, is Eternal

Summary: You find you can't sleep, and your partner resting right next to you listens to your late-night thoughts.

Word Count: 1.3k

Tags: SFW, Fluff, Second Person POV, gn! reader.

It’s easy to forget what lies beneath a frost. When the world is coated in so much snow, one might lose memory of the blooms in spring. Most people think of winter as this harsh and cruel season. It often comes hand-in-hand with negative metaphors like death or apathy or the end of any good thing. There was a time when you thought much the same. Now…you can’t help but almost feel bad for winter- for snow. There’s so much warmth there that goes unnoticed.

Poetic thoughts like these came easy to you in the early hours of the morning. Especially during nights where you couldn’t sleep. Maybe that’s why you found yourself finding feeling sad for an environmental passage of time of all things. Well…you had to give yourself some slack. There was a reason why snow had such a loving space in your heart; why you found yourself telling your coworkers who dared complain about the cold all the wonderful things you could do in the snow. Even after all the odd glances you got most times. A noble task, you would tell yourself. One might call you a…polar protector? A Snow Spokesperson! A Blizzard Bodyguard! A—

A large hand covered your face, cutting you free from your thoughts. After successfully catching your attention, the hand moved back to the body it belonged to. “You’re thinking too loudly…” Voice low, tone slightly slurred with half-consciousness, Zayne brought a thumb and forefinger up to rub at bleary eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose.

You felt a bit guilty for waking him up, knowing he’d be heading back to the hospital in a few hours. “You can read my thoughts?”

A huff of a single chuckle escaped him as he turned on his side towards you. As he spoke, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you toward him. “I think I have a few years to go before I can read your thoughts, but I can read your body language. Tossing and turning, fidgeting hands, rapid breaths. Symptoms of someone far too awake. What’s keeping you up?” A note of concern seeped into his tone. He kept you close while fixing and straightening some wild strands of your bed-hair. Based off his smile, you could tell you looked a bit more on the disheveled side. Something he was all too happy to fix. Meanwhile, he still looked as refined as ever. Gorgeous, like a statue chiseled from ice plucked from heavenly mountain-tops. Or perhaps that was just the rose-colored glasses talking. You found yourself still falling head-over-heels for him, and crushing like you hadn’t been together for a while. “Hey…” Zayne’s smile faded, his hand moving from your hip to your cheek. Apparently, he’d taken you staring at him in silence as some sort of hesitation. “Talk to me. Is something wrong?”

Well, now you felt a bit sheepish. Zayne was probably thinking you were plagued by some kind of stress. “Just thinking…about snow.”

“Snow?” he asked, incredulous that something so simple was keeping you awake, almost looking more worried. “Don’t tell me you’re making winter plans already?”

“Not really…”

The mattress shifted as he propped his head up on his elbow and sighed. His forefinger began to trace the outline of your face. “Penny for your thoughts? I won’t be able to sleep if you continue being so cryptic.”

You groaned a bit, not able to handle the thought of him getting no rest just because of your silly mind. “I’m just thinking about how sad it is that the cold gets such a bad rap.” As you explained that, you noticed how his face contorted into a mixed expression of confusion and amusement. You gave him time to speak, ready to hear him laugh or tell you to put you and your crazy mind to bed. Nothing was said by him, seemingly waiting to hear your intense thoughts at three in the morning. “It’s always talked about like some heartless, lifeless thing, but it’s not! Ice cream is cold and it’s one of my favorite things! In winter, you can wear cute coats and scarves, warm up with hot chocolate, and snuggle up by the fire. Plus, snow is so pretty. When it falls…it’s so comforting. I just… I wish people saw all the good in it that I do.” You glanced up at him, still waiting for him to roll his eyes.

Instead, he only looked at you softly- lovingly. With a little tug, he pulled you closer, lying back down while tucking your head under his chin. “I see. So, you think winter is sad that so many people dislike it?” He adjusted the blanket around you both, making sure your heads were comfortably on the pillows.

For some reason, you felt like crying. Maybe it was just because you were sleep deprived. Or perhaps it was because you tended to forget how safe of a space Zayne was. He’d joke with you, follow along with the bits you came up with, even listen to whatever you had to say running on four hours of sleep like he’d also gotten a degree in therapy. “I bet it gets lonelier than the other seasons…”

“Hm.” He closed his eyes, and for a moment you thought he’d fallen back asleep. When he spoke again, his voice lowered, his face nuzzling your head ever so slightly. “I think…that the snow is content enough being loved by you.” Zayne’s body was warm. Perfectly so. His hand ran up and down your back in slow hypnotizing rubs.

“I’m just one person in a world with millions of people… It deserves more than just me.” You were starting to feel drowsy now, eyelids going heavy at a rapid pace. A little moan rumbled in your throat as you shifted about to get comfortable, turning on your other side so Zayne was curled against your back. His presence was like a soothing blanket, your body enveloped and protected from things that might do you harm. Ever your valiant healer even outside of battle.

A kiss pressed into the back of your shoulder as you slotted yourself against him, fitting like a perfect puzzle piece. “I don’t think it’s greedy,” he whispered softly. “It sees the way you rush outside to greet it when it’s snowing, even if you’re not wearing something warm. It’s happy to take on the role of being cold so your hot chocolate tastes that much better, feeling the heat run down your throat…into your stomach…sinking down into your toes.” The way he was speaking was slow and purposefully melodic, like the narration of those resting meditation videos. He was trying to put you to sleep. Zayne took a deep breath, like he was minutes away from falling asleep himself, forcing himself to stay awake until he knew you were at peace. “It’s glad to make the world quieter so you can find yourself drifting off much easier.” He kissed the back of your head, resting his face against your body with a large exhale.

For a moment, you listened to the soft sounds of his breathing, staring at the subtle rays of moonlight seeping through past the curtains. All the strange anxiety that had kept you up melted away. You had to admit to yourself that you weren’t quite worried about the winter at all. But you weren’t sure where the doubt came from. Here he was, making you feel loved like you never had before. “You think so?”

“I know so. The winter will…always be there for you. Forever.” A small waver of emotion filled his voice.

“And my love, like winter, will be eternal for you…”

With one last squeeze, he laughs. “Oh? And here I was thinking we were talking about snow, but I’m flattered.” Words laced with mirth, he tried to pass off that he wasn’t aware of the true meaning behind your worries the whole time. You jabbed him a bit in the ribs with your elbow. In return, he used his Evol to press an icy cold hand against your back.

In the end, you both ended up not getting much sleep at all anyway, but neither of you cared in the slightest.

[ofdreamsnwishes]

“You are staring.” Barista!Jaemin whispered in your ear, making you jump and spill the hot coffee on yourself. Swearing under your breath you quickly move to the sink, running some cold water on your hand to, hopefully, avoid getting a serious burn.

The boy snickers behind you, trying to apologize and offering to help, but you know it’s not really genuine, Jaemin is just trying to mess with you, as if annoying the hell out of you was the best part of his day.

“I understand you are the owner’s son and you’re not really obliged to work, but at least try to uphold your parent’s café reputation.” You whisper-yells at him, glaring into his soul, hoping that for once, looks could actually kill.

“Oh I am. I’m making sure that our employees are not slacking off, you know, staring at our costumers with heart eyes…” There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. Shit, he knows.

“I wasn’t staring AT the costumers, my gaze just happened to be there.” You defend yourself, too prideful to admit that you were, in fact, staring.

You were trying to convince yourself too, because really, you shouldn’t. Not at Mark of all people. Not at the guy that was currently there waiting for your pretty coworker to arrive.

“Bullshit.’ He deadpans. It was infuriating how he always seemed to look past your excuses. ‘Maybe we should ask Hina and see what she thin-”

A hand flies over Jaemin’s mouth, your panicked eyes meeting his.

“Do. Not.’ A warning. Too bad Jaemin loved the bickering so, of course, he had to poke his tongue out, slightly licking your hand. Pulling away, you shoot him disgusted look. ‘You!”

An awkward cough startled you two out of your argument, Mark standing near the cashier, shy smile and a gentle voice to accompany.

“Sorry to interrupt… But, could you give this to Hina when she comes by? Something came up and I need to leave.” He has a small paper bag on his hands, what you could assume was some kind of jewelry based on the logo. Your heart drops. Right, Hina.

Before you can answer though, Jaemin is quick to talk, swiveling past you and putting on his best customer service smile.

“I’m sorry, we are not allowed to accept gifts from customers.’ It’s a lie. ‘The owners are very strict about it.” Another lie, Jaemin’s parents were sweethearts.

The older boy’s eyes widen, a blush dusting the tips of his ears. “Oh…! Sorry, I didn’t know about that…” He scratched the back of his head, excusing himself and leaving shortly after, a dejected look on his eyes.

It’s silent after that, Jaemin taking the order of the next customer in line and you busy yourself with tidying up the counter.

“What do you even see on him?” The boy beside you asks, once he took all of the costumers orders, putting a hand on your shoulder and moving you aside so he could help with the beverages.

“For starters he is the opposite of you.” You grumble and he lets out a dramatic gasp.

“So you’re telling me I’m not your type?”

You pause, looking at him, syrup bottle midway in the air. Honestly, what went on inside of his head sometimes? You? Liking him? That’s the first thing be asks?

“No?” You give him a side eye.

“Damn… Too bad, you’re exactly my type.”

“…”

“…”

“What?”

Jaemin winked at you, finishing up the beverage he was doing and taking the one you were doing, calling the names on the cups. He acted as if he didn’t just drop this bomb on you.

“Jaemin, what-”

“The customers are waiting, come on, finish their orders first.” He singsongs, not looking in your direction, hands busy cutting a cake slice.

Hesitantly, you turn away, almost dazed as you work on the next order in line. Maybe if you looked a bit closer you might’ve seen the red dusting his cheeks, the back of his neck and tip of his ears. He slipped up.

[in-my-feels-probably]

for your slytherin boys reacts, what about how they react when you dress up as them for halloween? :)

How the Slytherin Boys React to You Dressing Up as Them For Halloween

Request: for your slytherin boys reacts, what about how they react when you dress up as them for halloween? :)

Hi! Happy Halloween! I hope everyone is having a good day. I’m sorry to those of you who wanted more of the boys, but I only included Theo, Enzo, and Mattheo on this one. If you want to see some of the other boys in my future work, please let me know. These three are just who I’m focused on right now. Also, I wrote this with a fem reader in mind, I hope that’s ok. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this :)

(Warnings: nothing? idk, theo’s might be just a tiny bit suggestive. also vague descriptions of size differences. let me know if i missed anything)

—

Theodore Nott

Instead of wearing his clothes, you’d dress up in something inspired by him. But you’d still use a few things of his just so he’d get the point.

You wouldn’t even be able to walk in the door before he’d notice your costume and smirk.

He’d tease you about it, but he’d secretly think it was so attractive. You’re literally advertising that you're his girl with the costume and he isn’t about to complain about that. 

He’d just have to compromise somehow.

You thought your costume was pretty subtle. A white button down shirt and a black skirt with sheer tights (or slacks, whatever you’re more comfortable with.) You had a green tie loosely hanging around your neck, a few of Theo’s rings on your fingers. You stole a cigarette from his coat pocket earlier that day, and you had it tucked behind your ear where it could be seen.

You considered nicking his lighter too, but you knew he would have come looking for it immediately, and you wanted your costume to be a surprise.

You went up to his dorm right before the party since you wanted to go together. You barely made it through the door before you heard a chuckle, making you pause in the doorway.

“What?”

“Nothing, pretty girl,” he smiled, waltzing over to you. “You didn’t tell me you were going to the party as me.”

Your shoulders fell as you looked up at him. “How did you know?”

Theo grinned down at you, reaching to pluck the cigarette from behind your ear. He placed it back into his pocket, pulling you into his chest as your face soured. He swayed you back and forth, chuckling.

“You look beautiful, darling. It’s a good costume. I wish you would have told me, though. How are people going to know I’m yours if I have nothing of yours to show for it?”

You smiled, squeezing his hand. You let go to reach for your bag, pulling out a tube of lipstick Pansy had let you borrow. You smeared it on, tossing it back in your bag before grinning up at Theo. You hooked your finger under his chin, pulling him down to your level before dramatically peppering kisses across his cheek and jaw. When you pulled away, he had perfectly shaped stains across his face.

“Better? Can we go down now?”

“In a minute,” Theo grinned, pulling you closer. “I think you missed a spot. Pucker up, love.”

Mattheo Riddle

Dressing up as him was pretty much an excuse to wear his clothes.

But you made sure to pay attention to the details, fake blood and all. He’d know immediately the second he looked at you.

Secretly was excited about couples costumes, but he thinks this is way more funny. You’d promise to do one with him next year.

Would absolutely match your energy and dress up as you for the party.

You had stolen a few of Mattheo’s rings a week or two prior to the party, feigning innocence when he’d ask if you had seen any of them. You wore one of his long sleeve button down shirts and a black tie, one of his jackets over your shoulders. You let Pansy do your makeup, and she gave you fake bruising and a cut over the bridge of your nose, completed with a swipe of fake blood.

You’d come up to his dorm to surprise him before the party, excitedly standing in front of his bed to show him your costume.

He’d smirk as he stood, coming to stand in front of you. “You’re going to the party as me?”

“Clearly,” you mused, grinning when he raised a brow at your teasing. “How do I look?”

He hooked a finger under your jaw, tilting your chin up. “You look beautiful, darling. But don’t you think we’re missing something?”

“What do you mean?” 

“You don’t think you’re going down there like that alone, do you?” He asked, smoothing his thumb over your cheek. “I want something of yours. It’s only fair, darling. Besides, I don’t have a costume.”

You chuckled, reaching for his hand. “Do I even have anything that would fit you? What, you want one of my dresses?”

“I’ve got the legs for it.”

You couldn’t help but grin, tugging him along in the direction of your dorm. “Yes, yes you do. Come on, let’s see if we can find you something.”

Mattheo ended up showing up to the party in some of your clothes looking even better than you did in them. Your friends had plenty to say, whistling and making eyes as he confidently strutted around. He probably would have even worn your heels if he could have fit into them. But he didn’t need them—you both could barely keep your eyes off of each other the whole night anyway, glued to each other's side. Heels would have just slowed you down. 

Lorenzo Berkshire

He wouldn’t even recognize you were dressed up as him.

He’d just think you looked cute in his clothes and forget all about how you were supposed to be in a costume. You’d have to actually point it out for him to realize what you were doing.

He’d think it was really sweet, but he’d feel a little left out. He’d ask for something of yours so he could be dressed as you, and he’d wear it proudly.

You met Enzo in the Common Room, setting down your cup as you spotted him. You smiled at his costume. He was a vampire again—he wore the same costume every year because he liked wearing the velvet cape, and it was, in his own words, cooler than a superhero with a cape.

You walked over, spinning him around. “Hi, love. You look nice…as always.”

Enzo could barely let out a chuckle before he realized you were wearing his favorite shirt, the cuffs rolled up around your wrists because they were hanging too low. You had popped a few of his rings on your fingers, charming them to fit you for the night instead. 

“Pretty girl,” he smiled, wrapping his arms around you. “You look so cute. But I thought you were wearing a costume tonight?”

You nodded into his chest. “I am…I’m you.”

Enzo pulled away and placed his hands on your shoulders, holding you at arms length. He looked you over once more, a giddy smile on his face. But his smile slowly fell, making you raise a brow.

“What is it?”

“Nothing…I kinda just wish you told me,” he shrugged, trying to brush it off. 

You shook your head in confusion. “What? Why?”

“Well, I would’ve worn something of yours. Then we could’ve come as each other. I’ve always wanted to do a couples costume.”

You felt your heart warm at his words, taking his hand in yours. 

“And retire the vampire costume? I couldn’t do that to you,” you mused, tugging him in the direction of your dorm. “Come on, let’s go find you something of mine. I’ll jazz mine up a little bit so you can keep the cape on—we’ll just be each other, but vampires. Does that sound good?”

Enzo smiled, nodding as you led the way.

—

A/N - Hi! Happy Halloween! I know it’s late, but I made it before midnight! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this. I’ve got a few more requests to fill, and I’ll have those up soon. See you soon :)

[creedslove]

DESERVE IT - PART ONE

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: you defend Javier after some other agent makes rude comments about his personal life, not allowing anyone to hurt him

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of past relationships, mentions of bad relationship, Javi being ashamed and embarrassed

A/N: Just a scenario I had with Javi before bed last night that stuck with me the whole day, so I had to do something about it. And no, no smut for Javi this time 😭

1.6k words

You and Javi were focused on the pictures you received from the informants, watching them closely and trying to draw any detail from them that could somehow help you guys get a clue on Pablo's whereabouts.

You weren't Javi's partner, but since Steve's wife left him, you decided to step in to help out Javi, as he was overloaded with work.

You two had grown closer in the past year, when you moved into the same apartment complex as the other agents did.

You weren't an agent, but you were in charge of supervising all the paperwork and sending it back to the American government.

Javi got closer to you just like he did with every woman: by throwing his charms on you. Which would've worked if you weren't still hurt because of your last bad breakup.

When Javi made a final attempt at seducing you, you were straight up honest with him. You wouldn't jump into his bed because you were still scarred from the last time you allowed someone in, but you assured him you admired him for being honest as well, not playing with anyone's feelings and getting straight to the point.

After that, Javi found a friend in you, and you found a friend in him.

He did everything he could to protect you and you did everything you could to make sure he was safe, you often checked on him, made him meals when you knew all he had was a pack of cigarettes and liquor.

And God, Javier was sweet. He still flirted with you, of course, and you flirted back, he knew you had no intentions of sleeping with him, but it was kind of your thing, he didn't save up any pet names for you. You were querida, cariño, princesa, cielo… you name it. You just felt so at ease with each other.

He was the kind of guy who would leave chocolate on your table or a small flower he found on the street, whatever he saw that reminded him of you. It didn't matter if it was something small, it just made your heart melt and feel welcome there.

You also were aware of Javi's sexual behavior, and not only you, everyone was and you were familiar with his reputation. You knew he slept around, had no strings and even paid for sex, but you never brought it up. Some people called him a manwhore, and though in practice he was one, it never affected how you saw him.

Javi also really appreciated how you never brought it up and on the rare occasions one of the guys from the office made a comment or a joke about his lady friends or his favorite brothel in your presence, you completely ignored it and began talking business instead.

You could tell Javi was trying his best to find something in those photos, but it seemed like a dead end task. So you turned to the pile of paperwork he still had ahead of him and sighed.

"I'll help you with that, Javi… you can take a bathroom break or go for a coffee if you want"

Javier felt his heart clench in his chest at your sweet offer. That wasn't your job, you had no obligation to do that, hell, not even he had the obligation of doing Steve's job but he had to just because he was a little pussy after his wife left him. Javi looked at you for a second, wondering why Steve couldn't be strong like you were. You'd had an awful breakup and though he didn't know the whole story, he knew you enough to assume you just picked up the pieces and started over again.

As if you read his mind, you smiled softly at him "I know you're pissed off at Murphy right now, this is definitely not the best time to have a man down in our team, but cut him some slack. He's going through a real hard time, and a broken heart can really take us down, I know it did when it happened to me, but he'll get over soon" you reminded Javier and placed your hand on his in a comforting way.

You both didn't notice one of the CIA agents approaching your table, and only realized your hands were still touching when the man let out a laugh.

"Y/N and Agent Peña? What is this, holding hands in the office now?" Carlos eyed the two of you up and down and shook his head.

"I can't believe this, Y/N… I expected more from you. You're the office's muñequita. All of us wanted a chance to get you and you go and choose Peña?!" He scoffed.

"You could do so much better than this manwhore, you do know he can't keep it in his pants and all the prostitutes in the country know his name, right?"

You stiffened in your chair and took a quick look at Javi, seeing he gripped the sides of the table to the point his knuckles turned white, he was tense and angry, and yet he didn't dare look up and face Carlos.

It took you a split second to realize Javi was ashamed.

You slammed your hands on the table and got up abruptly, dragging the attention of both men. You stood at full height, though the CIA agent was taller than you, you wouldn't let him intimidate you at all.

"When you say I could do much better do you mean yourself? Because that's hard to believe, Carlos. Not only are you painfully unattractive but extremely stupid and rude" you spat at him "you're married and you chase after women while your wife is waiting for you at home, so I'm guessing you're the real manwhore here. Javier is single and he can do whatever he wants, and trust me when I tell you he does it better than any other man and certainly better than you ever will. Never talk about him like that with your filthy mouth or I swear I'll knock on your door and tell your wife all about your little adventures" you groaned feeling your blood boiling at that whole situation.

It was extremely uncalled for. You didn't care if Javier had troubles with some other agents, he was your friend, he always protected you and took care of you when you needed and you would never admit someone treated him like that in front of you.

Carlos gulped and left without a word. You sat back down and looked at Javi, he finally looked at you in the eyes but remained silent.

"Y/N… I-" he started but you could tell he was still embarrassed about the whole situation so you shook your head.

"I'll finish these tasks at home, can you give me a ride?"

•••

The ride home was silent and you respected that. You weren't sure if Javi got angry with you or if he was just channeling his anger towards Carlos. Either way, you didn't want to bother him.

Javier was still a gentleman and carried the piles of work you both needed to work on. He placed them on your coffee table and sat on the couch, surprising you as you'd figured he'd be back to his apartment.

You got him a drink and one for yourself and you both began working on the paper. He was silent as his eyes scanned the papers even if his brain couldn't process what was written.

"You didn't have to defend me like that, Y/N"

He broke the silence and stared into your eyes.

"Yes I did, Javi. Because you would've done the same for me. Carlos is a pig and he walks around that fucking place as if he was still in high school bullying every one he meets" you told him "he had no right to talk about you like that, and he also doesn't have the right to treat me like that… even if we were fucking, it's none of his business and I don't think you are bad at all"

Javi licked his lips as he nodded.

"About what he said… about me being a manwhore… Do you agree?" He knew he was stepping into a cloudy area, at the same time he wanted to know your true opinion. He was also scared of hearing the truth.

You bit your lower lips and sustained his look for a while, thinking of how to answer his question.

"If you asked me about any other man, you know… my opinion on your…let's call it sexual behavior, I would agree… but I can't when it comes to you, Javi" you extended your hand and touched his arm "what I guess I'm trying to say is that you are different. I like you and I would never look at you differently because of it, I don't think it's a good lifestyle but I won't despise you for that" your hand went for his face, cupping his cheek gently as his sad brown eyes melted you on the inside and out.

"You really think that, hermosa?" You nodded

"I just don't understand why you do it… I mean, look at yourself Javier, you can make any girl weak at the knees, you can have any woman in a heartbeat… I think you deserve a relationship, a wife, kids…. The whole package, Javi. I don't know why you think you don't deserve to be happy, when in reality you are the one who deserves it most"

You leaned in and kissed his lips so softly, at the same time his hands clung to your hips.

Javi's heart was beating so fast at that moment. All of your words, your kiss, your touch and your lips, it all had a deep impact on him. He didn't know why someone like you could like someone like him, but he continued to kiss you, even if he didn't deserve it.

____

A/N: I love Javi, I hope you guys enjoyed it! ❤️