#every night i stare at the ceiling and go
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chuulyssa · 9 hours ago
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── ★ the one bed trope™ with the squid game men
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teaser the guards cleared out too many beds after the last game, assuming there are far fewer survivors than expected. so when your group stumbles into the dormitory, you realize the horrible truth: there’s only one bed for every two players, and your bed is missing!
starring inho gihun (drabbles) & daeho sangwoo ali (hcs) x gn!reader genre fluff fluff all fluff, some nightmares, some crack
a/n wasnt gonna watch s2 but then i saw the lee byunghyun edits and sjsjs theres only few chars here because i havent watched the whole season :( i dont think ill be watching the whole thing any time soon, jus waiting for s3 to drop before watching it all together
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inho / youngil / the frontman / 001
youngil stared at the guards while you stared at the bed in front of you. it looked stiff and scratchy, and barely wide enough for one person, let alone two.
“we can share. i don’t mind,” he had said to you, though he had looked tense as well. he sat on the bed, allowing you to scoot over. he laid as close to the edge of the cot as possible.
“oh, it won’t be necessary.”
“well, what other choice do you have?”
you sighed and nodded, awkwardly laying down next to him on the bed. as your shoulders touched each other, he relaxed visibly, though he was still lying on the edge, and that scared you a little.
“stop lying on the edge like that. you’ll fall off,” you warned.
“i’m fine,” he mumbled, staring right up at the ceiling. you kept looking at him, not minding the three times he had glanced your way pointedly at all. “don’t stare.”
“hm, why not?”
“it makes me feel strange,” he said simply.
you nodded, your hands instinctively reaching to your arms to shield yourself from the cold. there was only one blanket with only one bed after all. next thing you knew, you felt the blanket being nudged towards you by youngil’s foot.
“i saw that; it’s not very subtle, you know.”
“what’s not very subtle?” he asked innocently. then he shifted his body closer to yours. “it’s not because of you, okay?” he muttered quietly. “i just didn’t feel like falling off.”
“are you asking for cuddles now?” you snickered.
“no,” he replied gruffly, though his eyes softened slightly at the sound of your silent laughter.
“nuh uh, i think you’re cold as well,” you lifted the blanket up to accommodate him as well. you then glanced at him expectantly. he hesitated for a moment before slipping under the blanket, taking the moment to tightly grasp your hand. you smiled, resting your head above his shoulder on the shared pillow.
you woke up in the middle of the night to find him softly murmuring your name in his sleep. he looked peaceful, beautifully so. you brushed your hand on his chest to wrap it around him, and felt him waking up as well.
“hush, go back to sleep,” you whispered to him, and he raised an eyebrow at nothing in particular. his eyes were still closed. then he let out a tiny giggle and tightened his grip on your hands.
the guards executed this one perfectly, right as per orders from the frontman; hwang inho will make sure to reward them later, but for now he’d rather stay in this shared bed with you by his side.
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seong gihun / 456
“i guess it can’t be helped then,” gihun said simply, sitting you down on his bed and pulling the covers over you. “sorry if i snore by the way.”
“what do you mean? where will you be sleeping?”
“on the floor, of course.”
“no, you’re not,” you shook your head, patting the empty space beside you. “i still have some place left here for someone.”
“oh, then let me find someone who can’t find a partn—”
you pulled the man down onto the bed, his face crashing against the pillow. throwing the covers over him as well, you turned to face him, muttering, “you really aren’t the sharpest tool in the shed.”
“no, uhm, what if i hog the blanket? that would be unpleasant—”
“i can live with that.”
gihun blinked rapidly. “i don’t think i should be sleeping. what if someone attacks?”
“relax, they’re keeping watch.”
“i think i should keep watch with them,” gihun gulped at your proximity.
“well, i don’t. and you need sleep; have you seen yourself?” you laughed.
gihun beamed at the sound. “then how about I tell you a story?”
“a story?”
“yeah, to make you happy.”
“why though?” you said tiredly.
“to make you laugh. i like seeing you laugh,” he said genuinely, and you nodded in response. his eyes lit up and he began, “so there was this one cow, and it had a baby cat—”
“gihun?”
he snored.
“gihun!”
he snored again.
did he really fall asleep mid-sentence? you sighed, shaking your head before snuggling up to him. he unconsciously draped an arm over you in his sleep.
throughout the night, he kept tossing and turning, before—
smack !
you clutched your face where gihun’s hand had just made contact. before letting out the loud cuss you wanted to, you peeked over to see if he was asleep. and sure enough, if the snores hadn’t let it be known earlier, then the closed eyes did.
“this dumbass,” you muttered, nuzzling your face into his side.
but what could you do either way? if you complained, he’d be mortified and force you to switch places, and you’d lose a chance to cuddle with him. so you instead figured the occasional smacking would be worth being the first person to see his hair sticking out in every direction with his sheepish grin in the morning.
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a/n: i’ve only got hcs for the others; sorry guys i prefer my old men inho and gihun :P
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daeho / 388
he insists on taking the less comfortable side of the bed
even if that meant he barely has any space MY GNELTMAN
at some point his hand will brush yours (because its an ff duh) and he’ll get all startled like :O
but he won’t move away because he decides he likes it
we all know the trauma this man carries :( so don’t be surprised when his grip on your hand loosens in the middle of the night and his face scrunches up because he’s having a nightmare
just please cuddle with him :(( he’ll try to play it off like it’s nothing but know better!
when you quietly offer comfort, his defenses will crumble, and he’ll whisper a quiet thank you to you
in the morning he’ll wake up before you and realize just how close the two of you are.
he’s been bearhugging you in his sleep and you’re reciprocating it? hes so confused like ??????? do you wanna get choked or sum yes you do
he’ll just quietly stare at you as if he’s in a daze. he’s got that lovesick smile and all, just silently looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen you are
he just as silently fixes the blanket on you because he wants to offer as much comfort as you did last night to him
then he’ll gently apologize to you for disturbing you, smiling to himself when you grumble in your sleep
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sangwoo / 218
this little shit
he’ll pretend not to care about you or about the bed or about the entire situation at all
but you can see how he tries to be as subtle as possible when adjusting the pillow under your head to make sure you’re comfortable
you’re practically begging him to accept his feelings atp but this man is a menace
as soon as he saw the one bed he started calculating how much space you’ll take and how much he’ll get
if you shift closer in your sleep he’ll freeze for a moment but he won’t pull away
if you move a lot in your sleep he won’t say anything just yet
but expect to be bombarded with complaints when you wake up in the morning
he watches you out of the corner of his eye, something he describes as “just trying to protect you” by “keeping watch” but you know he’s just dazzled by your beauty who isnt
he’ll lie awake for a while staring up at that huge piggy bank that his future lies in, and he knows he can’t love you like he wants to, but he hopes that just this once his brain will accept what his heart feels
when the sunlight hits his face in the morning, he’ll look so peaceful that it makes even ali question his mood
all the while gihun is just staring in horror at sangwoo like he got some puss
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ali / 199
THE POOKIEST POOKIE
he’s so shy UGH i jus wanna gobble him up sjsjsjkgnskjn
but he can’t help smiling softly when he realizes how comfortable you seem to be around him
he’ll offer to sleep on the cold hard floor and insists you take the blanket for yourself, but duh you don’t allow that
so with a grin on his face he lies down next to you
he asks you if you need more space at least 10 times, he’s that nervous
the blanket stays on you though, he can’t risk you feeling cold or uncomfy because of him GNELTMENANN
he’ll stay awake if you want someone to talk to, or to make sure you’re warm enough, or even just to admire you
but if you don’t want that, he’ll pull an aurora and fall asleep so quickly you don’t even realize it
his hand stays brushing against yours under the blanket though, and you feel so warm and fuzzy next to him
he’s a snuggler, so there’ll be times where he’ll shift very close to you in his sleep, not realizing the hand he’s keeping on your waist or the head he’s resting on your chest
someone points it out in the morning and he’s so flustered he apologizes profusely even though you keep telling him you didn’t mind it all
definitely says something like “i slept with you, remember?” because he doesn’t realize it’s an innuendo
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© chuulyssa 2025 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.
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mrsmangi · 24 hours ago
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Hibiscus 🌺🌺🌺
late night call - luigi mangione
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♡ flower prompt: hibiscus - the realization of a friendship becoming something more - meaning: in victorian times, the gift of a hibiscus bloom meant that the giver was acknowledging the receiver’s delicate beauty. ♡ w.c.: 1k ♡ a/n: hi, love! thank you so much for your request. srry for the delay, i'm a bit backed up with requests. she's a short one, but i hope you enjoy!
♡ send me a flower & i'll write a drabble based off the prompt ! ↪ prompts that have been requested
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“Do you ever think people realize just how loud their ceiling fans are?” 
His voice comes through the phone, low and scratchy, like he’s been lying on his back for too long, staring at his own ceiling. You giggle softly, shifting against the pillow propped against your back. Your own fan spins above you, a rhythmic hum filling the space between his words and yours. 
“It’s white noise,” you say, quieter than usual. “After a while, you get used to it and stop hearing it.” 
“Mm, not tonight,” Luigi sighs. “It’s like the fan’s trying to keep me awake for as long as possible.”
You laugh again, a soft, breathy sound that feels just a bit too loud in the stillness of your room. It’s past midnight–long past the time you’d planned to be asleep–but this is how many of your nights with Luigi go. What starts with casual texts morphs into a phone call, then into hours of talking about nonsense; everything and nothing.
“Maybe it’s just your thoughts,” you tease. “What are the voices yelling at you about tonight?” 
He pauses on the other end of the line, just the faint sound of his breathing audible. You know Luigi well enough by now to know he’s not actively ignoring your question; he’s only deciding how much of himself to give away. 
“Life,” he answers lamely, though the vagueness of the reply altogether makes it clear there’s more to it than that. “Do you ever feel like no matter how much you do to succeed, it’s never enough?” 
You roll onto your side, pressing the phone closer to your ear. The dim glow of your bedside lamp casts uneven shadows against the wall. 
“All the time,” you reply honestly. “It gets exhausting, though. I feel like I’m just running a race no one even cares to watch.” 
He exhales, a sound that crackles through the receiver. When he speaks again, his voice carries the kind of understanding that comes from being seen. “Yeah. I get it.” 
The two of you fall into shared silence, the steady hum of your ceiling fan whispering across the line. You let yourself picture him for a moment–probably sprawled out on his bed, one arm thrown over his eyes. His phone would be balanced in his other hand. The image feels familiar, like something you’ve seen a thousand times before, even though you haven’t. 
“Can I ask you something?” His voice breaks the quiet.
“Always.” 
He’s quiet again, but you don’t rush him.
“Do you think…” He pauses again, and you can hear the shift of his breathing. “Do you ever think it’s possible for something to change without either person realizing it? Like, to wake up one day and feel like everything’s changed, even though nothing is actually different?” 
“Maybe,” you say cautiously, voice softer now. “Sometimes things can change so slowly you don’t even notice until it’s already different. Then, you find yourself wondering how long it’s been that way.” 
“Yeah,” he agrees. “That’s exactly what I mean.” 
You stare up at the spinning fan, asking him, “What’s different, Luigi?” 
He doesn’t answer right away. His continuous pauses make you grow somewhat uneasy, stretching a distance between you. “Us,” he says. “I think we’re different.” 
You exhale slowly. “Different how?” 
“I don’t know,” he admits. “But it’s like every time we talk, it feels different. More important, somehow, like there’s something there that wasn’t before.” He stops and you can nearly hear the way he’s turning the words over rin his head. “I used to just…enjoy talking to you, but now, it feels like I catch myself waiting for it. I’m counting down to the next time I’ll hear your voice. And when we’re not talking, I’m thinking about what I want to tell you the next time I see you, or wondering what you’re doing, or–” He breaks out into nervous laughter, cutting himself off. “Um, does any of that make sense or am I just rambling?” 
It makes perfect sense. Too much sense. Your heart picks up speed, the weight of his words pressing against the thoughts you’ve tried to push to the back of your mind. You notice it too. You’ve felt a change in the way you catch yourself thinking about him at odd moments–when a song reminds you of something he’s said, or when you replay the voice messages he sends just to hear his laugh on repeat. Tonight, he speaks heavier, like he’s cracked open a door you have both been staring at for weeks, maybe longer, unsure of who will turn the handle first. 
“It does,” you whisper. 
There’s a small, nearly imperceptible breath on his end, like he’s been holding it and didn’t even realize. “Yeah?” 
“Yeah.” You chew on your bottom lip, letting the word sink in. “I didn’t know if I should say anything. I didn’t want to ruin what we have.” 
“Me neither,” he says, “but I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel it. I do. All the time.” 
You close your eyes, the glow of the lamp behind your lids is a soft orange hue. “So, what now?” 
“I’m not sure,” he says. There’s no pretense, no cleverness to soften the edges of his words. “But maybe we can figure it out. Together.” He says his last word carefully, almost like it’s fragile–like it may break under the weight of its meaning if he doesn’t say it the right way. 
You hear him shift, the faint sound of fabric rustling through the receiver. It’s a small thing, but it makes the moment feel so real, tangible, like he’s not just a voice in the dark. You let his words settle over you. Luigi doesn’t have the answers to all your worries and neither do you. But, it feels comforting somehow–to know that he’s with you in this journey, and you with him. 
“Okay,” you say. A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. You know he can hear it, even if he can’t see it. Your heart is full of love for this boy as you exhale: “Together.”
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4chensungs · 2 days ago
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don’t kiss and tell
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brothers best friend!jisung x fem. reader
after the incident of your brother finding out you hooked up with one of his friends, you promised to yourself to never look out for him anymore. but who says he’ll give up on you that easily?
wc. 2.8k
warnings. smut (mdni), jisung is down bad, body worship like crazy in here, tit sucking, fingering, ass slapping, unprotected sex
part 1 for context here <3
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IT HAS BEEN one whole month since you last talked to jisung. one month since you saw him probably for the last time in a hot minute.
the last few weeks have been extremely unusual; you keep questioning yourself how was he doing, if he's even ever going to appear at your house again to hang out with you brother, like he always did. he's probably not.
and fuck jaemin, fuck him for screwing your bond with him. it's useless, pure jealousy and he's so stupid!, stupid for being this mad with one if his best friends of years, simply because he thinks you're still a child.
on the other hand, jisung is being not so subtle in the way he still wants you. he keeps liking the pics you post on your instagram stories, sometimes even replying to them. and it's the sad fact you're not giving him a single reply.
his mind wanders to the thought of you being already completely over him, wanting to distance yourself fully right now, thanks to your brother.
but your heart knows that's not what you want, and it keeps giving you a warning that the next time that you see him, these feelings will come back stronger than ever.
you miss him. so bad, thinking about him makes you sick.
you're laying in bed, scrolling quietly through your phone when the damn notification appears. why does he keep trying? you sigh out loud.
the__and.y liked your stories.
you ran your hands through your hair, turning off your phone to stare at the ceiling to collect your breath. you can't, your brother is still furious with both of you.
jisung ♡: why do u keep ignoring me in every existing social media
is he really going to do this? at this late at night?
jisung ♡: i miss you
you kept reading his messages and not replying. you didn't contact him for a month.
maybe, just maybe, things may have gotten lighter with jaemin. perhaps he's not really remembering this whole thing, yeah?
you: i'm sorry jisung
you: idk if this is right i really don't know
you: im confused
you turn off your phone again while waiting for his reply. let's give it a try.
jisung ♡: why wouldn't it be right
jisung ♡: jaemin can't control your life, you can do whatever you want
hm.
you: i felt bad that day and he's still so mad with you
you: idc if he's mad with me, he's my brother at the end of the day
you: i worry about you and how hes fucked up your friendship
jisung ♡: baby you know what's fucked up
jisung ♡: you trying to convince yourself that you don't want this because of him
jisung ♡: say to my face that you don't want it
you want this so fucking bad. to be in his arms again, and the thrill of being with him behind closed doors. god, that's all you want in every way.
you: ji
you: i want to see you
jisung ♡: that's right
jisung ♡: i've waited for this princess
jisung ♡: waited so long
you: i need you
you: i don't care anymore
you really don't give a fuck - your brother can hold his protectiveness instinct for himself, he actually can. you can't control what your heart aims for.
and it screams for park jisung.
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"you can't ignore him forever, you know that?"
"who says I'm ignoring him? I texted him yesterday saying he should come this weekend." jaemin huffed, acting oblivious to the fact that the only reason why he invited jisung over was because of the boys' annual end of year party.
chenle deadpans at him with his stare, letting out a chuckle, "if you didn't invite him I would've done it myself." he paused, turning his head to look at the man, "that would be bullshit."
bullshit. jaemin swore he almost threw chenle out of the car in the harshest way possible - clicking his tongue in pure annoyance, "yeah, it was just fine when he fucked my sister behind my back."
"i'm pretty sure they did not fuck."
if you didn't then why were you both half naked. in his car. at your backyard?
"i'm telling you, I saw it. she was literally on top of him and she was fucking moaning his name, chenle. that's fucking wrong." your brother spat while still not looking at his friend - eyes focused on the road.
chenle keeps going, "cut this off, jaem. you can't see her as a baby anymore. let her live."
jisung is indeed coming to your house again - sooner than you thought. but it did take some days for you to find out, tho. you brother wasn't the one who told you.
in the same day, the last messages jisung sent you before you went to sleep.
jisung ♡: dress up prettily for me tomorrow
jisung ♡: will you?
you: what??
you: you're coming???
jisung ♡: jaemin told me to go and yeah i didn't expect it as well
jisung ♡: dreaming of you again
jisung ♡: kissing your sweet lips holding you so close to me
jisung ♡: it'll be all mine princess
you: go to sleep ji
you: silly
jisung ♡: i'll show you what's silly tomorrow
the sound of the boys laughing and loud pitching talking in the living room did quite mess with your head, anticipating the moment when he comes. it's crazy how you got so dolled up for him only, he's the reason why you're even going out of your room this night.
if it wasn't for jisung, you'd probably just greet the guys and come back to your own quiet place, drowning in your thoughts, alone. just like you always used to do before he appeared in your life.
a knock was heard on your door just right after you finished your makeup. unexpectedly, you meet a very tipsy jaemin.
"what the fuck is this outfit?" he spats, crossing his arms in front of his chest - his body unbalanced. for a split second, you closed your eyes and thanked all the existing Gods under your breath. he's drunk.
you smiled, "felt pretty today. you smell like beer, don't talk to me."
"hey, hey, hey." he grabbed your arm before you could close the door and kick him out, "come say hello to my friends. don't be rude."
you fixed your hair and outfit and went to the living room, being find with chenle, jeno and donghyuck's figures sat around the big table, nestled with all the different kinds of drinks and alcohol.
your breath hitched when jisung was nowhere to be found.
after greeting the guys, you decided to wait in your room - not sure on how, or when will jisung get there and you'll finally get to release all of your wants. show him how much you miss him and vice versa.
not much time had passed before another knock was heard on your door. you were sprawled on bed, dim lighting decorating the ambient.
"come in."
you said that because you thought it was your brother. jisung carefully opened the door, eyes peeking first to check on you.
that scene truly felt like a movie. you slowly got up, a smile starting to pop up in your lips as you walked to him.
your voice trembling, "hi, ji."
you opened the door fully for him to enter your space, he wasted no time to step in and pull you into a hug.
a mess was happening in your head, so ridiculously dizzy from him - the masculine smell of his cologne filling your nostrils, his hands holding your body flush to him while yours gripped his black t shirt, so simple and casual but yet made him look so attractive.
or maybe that’s just because you miss him a lot.
jisung leaned away from your embrace, gently taking your hair out of your face while holding eye contact - hands flew to your hips.
"you look gorgeous. more than ever."
your arms secured their hold around his neck, feeling your cheeks burning red from his words, "just for you." you announced.
he nodded, "all for me."
you both smiled like two idiots in love as he leaned down to kiss you, mouths melting so sweet at first - tongues brushing here and there, hums being heard throughout the kiss, "so pretty in this dress." he mumbles in between.
his back hits the door as he closes it, left hand leaving your hips for a mere second just to lock it.  making absolute sure that no one will be able to interrupt.
jisung grabs a hold of your thighs to help you walk further into your room, so familiar to him.
all the times you've sneaked out, when jisung slept by and left jaemin's room in the middle of the night when he was in a deep sleep. all behind his back with so much carefulness.
when he lays you down he's quick to trail his wet kisses down to your neck, firm hands caressing your whole body, going up and down in motions.
you arch into him, playing with his black hair strands as his face rests on your chest, meanwhile his lips keeps smooching your hot skin.
you sigh in contentment, knees pressing together - trying to give him a sign that you're needy, so painfully needy for him.
"jisung i want- mhhm" your words get cut off by your own whine when his hand grabs the top of your dress to pull it down, hanging it just below your bra.
"don't want to take your dress off.. youre looking too beautiful like this." his deep voice quietly said.
you smile at his sweet comment, holding back all your whines combined with the feeling of his fingers messing with the lace of your white bra, throwing your head back with no shame when he pulls the fabric down to expose your breasts, still not taking it off your body.
"so pretty, princess. i could admire you all day."
cool air is fast to hit but it's soon replaced by jisung's hot mouth, circling your breast with his tongue, hand massaging the other while his mouth does wonders on your soft flesh.
when he reaches for your nipple you whine even louder, his saliva pooling and soaking your whole breast when he sucks it into his warm hot mouth, humming nonstop.
"you're crazy ji-jisung."
"should i stop?" he teases, leaning his mouth away from your nipple and replacing it with his finger, rubbing it.
"no for fucks sake.. but I'm trying so hard to keep quiet." your voice trembled slightly.
jisung looks at you then laughs, “they’re so wasted right now, no one’s conscious in that room, love.”
you pout at him, he softly traces your bottom lip with his thumb before kissing you again, “I promise you, it’s okay. but I need you to tell me it’s okay with you.”
his soft and caring voice did turn you on even more, it shouldn’t, but it made you wetter. eyes holding so much love and appreciation looking at yours - “I want this. I want you, ji.”
jisung smiles one more time, giving you a nod and resumed his work, mumbling a deep “fuck” under his breath when he tested the waters, hand went under your dress to feel your core.
he pulled the ends of your dress up to your stomach, your thighs ridiculously pressed together. you should be ashamed of how wet you were, but you’re not, not even a single bit.
he gives your thighs a caress, “let me spread them, hm?”
your breath hitches when he brings your knees to your chest, spreading you all open and full for him. jisung mentally coos at the scene in front of him.
just like your bra, white lace panties with a wet dark patch decorated in the middle, like a gift for him. it drove him crazy.
“did you miss me that much, princess?” you can only moan as response when he touches the wet patch with his finger before pulling the lace to the side, holding it in place with one finger, while his middle finger travels up and down your cunt.
wet, so fucking wet, “fuck. love, i might cum just by looking at this.” he cursed and cursed again, eyes wide open and looking straight at your puffy displayed cunt, so wet just for him. he knew that and so did you.
“oh fuck baby i can’t-“ jisung’s fingers spread you open to admire you better - in love, genuinely in love with how your pretty pussy shines for him, glistening and begging to suck him in.
he leans down fast enough to give your clit a quick kiss, “can’t stop thinking about how beautiful she is.” still caressing your core.
you moan his name desperately at his nasty but sweet comment, tons of whines and “jisung” ‘s leaving your mouth.
“ji please. want your fingers.” you manage to say.
“of course, gotta prep my beautiful girl.” he smiles, an expert finger circling your clit before diving down into your entrance. covered with slick, your cunt invites him just as soon.
experienced fingers pumping in and out continuously, you whine with your eyes closed at the sound of wetness.
jisung’s in complete awe, stoping his staring at your hole to kiss your face, first at the corner of your mouth, then at your lips, shutting your whines off.
“you’re perfect.” he leans away to say.
nothing’s more perfect in this world than the sensation of his long and thick fingers inside you, scissoring you and reaching the deepest and most sensitive spots ever. you’ll say that to him later.
you try to smile but you soon harshly bite your lip when he curled his two fingers inside, you yelped, “jisung! oh my god-“
he kisses you again, and again, until he’s satisfied and thinks you’re ready to take him. jisung’s fingers leave you empty, and you let out a cry - his eyes make their way to between your legs to see how you’re pulsating.
“never seen my princess this wet..” deep cocky voice says.
you reach out to take off your dress, “i’ve missed you.”
when your dress was discarded to the floor, he was quick to unbutton his jeans as they went to the same destination of your clothes.
you could see his erection through his boxers, and as much as you want to such him off right now, you’re needing him inside. now.
your panties were about to be discarded before jisung grabbed your hand and shook his head, “want them on, baby. s’ pretty. keep the bra too.”
knowing how he likes it with you, you turned around and pinned your front to the bed, arching your back and your ass in the air.
“fuck, just like that.” he pumps his cock at first, cooing you while you wait for him.
jisung’s hands flew to your back to arch it even more, then to hold your hips. he rubs the head of his dick on your entrance, how your pussy almost sucks him in just from the rubbing.
when he enters you, you let out a little too loud moan. hands clutching the sheets and tears filling your eyes.
he’s completely focused on how you keep clenching around him - the amusing view of your cunt sucking him all the way in, then out again.
your hips were pressed to his shaft, feeling him so fucking deep into your womb.
jisung coos again, “you don’t know how I’ve been dying for this.” he slaps your ass.
“jisung! jisung fuck, jisung.” you whine like a baby, lost in the pleasure. ass stinging from his big hand slap and cunt begging to be filled until you get sore.
“my love.” another slap, “fucking made just for me.”
his cock is so big and it leaves you like a babbling mess, so big that it almost hurts from how good it is, hits you in all places.
you both were getting closer, his thrusts started to get sloppier and messier, slower as he pulled away to release at your back.
your own release dripped down your pussy and thighs, while his hot cum painted your back down to your ass cheeks. what a scene.
“want them all to see this mess.. jaemin needs to see how you’re good to me.“ he admires the sight of your cunt clenching and unclenching around absolutely nothing but the air, “can’t believe you’re mine and no one can ever change that.”
you tiredly laid back on your back again, trying to fix your hair. jisung’s sweaty body joined you after tossing the dirty sheets aside, he breathes heavy, but still with that cute smile on his lips.
“do you think they heard something?.” you look up at him, voice low.
jisung thinks for a second, furrowing his brows, “i honestly don’t think so, baby. but you need to change these sheets..”
“of course i will, ji.” you laughed fondly. there’s still some questions hanging in the air, with what face will he come back to the boys?
“and if they ask you where were you this whole time and what were you doing…?”
“then i’ll just say that i was fucking the prettiest girl in the family and i don’t regret it.”
© 4chensungs
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bucketbueckers · 1 day ago
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I'D RATHER PRETEND
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extra 1: proposal ‘a few years had gone and come around...you looked at me, got down on one knee’
tags: @angryflowerwitch @avvwritesstufff @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @bueckersg1rl @l0verl4ne @clouded-whispers @dolliest-thena @katemartinlvr @numberonepartyanth3m @glamourdaya @pbbucks @unadulteratedcyclepaper @paiges-1vur @thelightknight21 wc: 4.7k notes: based on this request 🫡 sorry this took forever, i took a break from writing for a bit (writing 80k+ words over the course of a month alters your brain chemistry tbh). i was gonna link the proposal and the wedding together but decided to split them just so i could get something out for y'all! soooo trust that the wedding oneshot will be in the works soon and other slice of life snippets. if there's anything you wanna see, feel free to request! i'll get around to it when i have the time & my inbox is always open for yaps 🙂‍↕️as always i hope y'all enjoy!! 🫶
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NOVEMBER 13, 2028
The first week of their postseason vacation couldn’t have gone any better. After a successful last year with the Sparks and the Wings respectively, Tess and Paige needed the time out of the country, away from basketball and other people. For four years, they’d spend up to six months away from each other training, playing, or travelling – it wasn’t much different from what they were used to in college, but they were nearing their five year anniversary and if Tess was being honest, she loathed only having Paige for half of the year. They planned to spend the first two full weeks of the offseason in Naples, Italy, where Tess had grown up – completely alone with plenty of time to relax after a grueling championship contending season.
So the first week was amazing. They flew in on a Monday, ordered room service and promptly fell asleep after dinner, far too jet lagged and exhausted after hours of travelling. On Tuesday, Paige treated her to breakfast in bed: delicate pastries and fruits and savory meats, then they toured an art museum – the Sansevero Chapel Museum. Tess was pretty sure Paige spent more time staring at her than the actual art they’d paid to look at, but she wasn’t going to complain. She enjoyed Paige’s attention more than she liked to admit. On Wednesday, Tess showed her around the inner workings of the city and the street she grew up on. Paige even met some of her extended family, such as her paternal grandparents and some other cousins. Tess’s family welcomed Paige in with open arms and made sure they stayed for lunch. They spent the rest of the day walking around the city hand-in-hand with Tess sharing childhood stories as Paige listened intently. On Thursday, they visited the San Carlo Theatre – coincidentally enough, they were performing an opera of Romeo and Juliet, which endlessly amused the both of them. On Friday, Paige decided she wanted to try every pizza place that Naples had to offer, and Tess didn’t really have the heart to say no to her. The weekend was spent lounging around, walking around the city some more, and visiting the beach, although they quickly gave up on that endeavor because it was entirely too cold.
Then the second week rolled around and Paige’s entire demeanor changed. When Tess woke up on Monday morning, shirt and underwear haphazardly thrown on after a long night, Paige was lying silently next to her, hands folded over her stomach. She was staring at the ceiling fan like it held the answers for whatever existential question she’d been pondering. Paige and silent were two things that never ended well when they were mixed together. The last time Paige had been eerily quiet had been after New Year’s in 2024 – that was a month of dread and panic that Tess never wanted to go back to, so she rolls onto her side, gazing at Paige.
“Do you ever think the trees are trying to communicate with us but we’re too dumb to understand them?” she asks seriously, watching five different expressions cross Paige’s face before she settles on amusement, laughing quietly.
Paige finally cranes her head over, her face softening when she locks eyes with Tess. Her hair is unruly, a mess from the night before, mascara flaking and her skin littered with marks. Tess is certain she’s never seen anyone more beautiful than Paige and she’s certain she never will. Even after almost five years together, Paige still makes her heart beat like she’s a teenager with a crush. “What happened to ‘good morning?’” she jokes.
“Not a good morning when I wake up and you’re social distancing,” Tess grumbles indignantly, pointing at the space in between them. “What happened to, I don’t know, ‘loving your girlfriend?’”
“I’m so sorry, baby,” Paige croons, her tone teasing. She rolls Tess onto her other side, curling an arm around her abdomen, her fingers lacing together with Tess’s over her navel. She rests her chin just above the crown of Tess’s head, sinking into the pillow. “Better?”
Tess hums, content, her hair raising at the feel of Paige’s skin against hers. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” she asks.
Paige huffs out something akin to shocked laughter. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”
“Paige, we’ve been together for almost five years,” Tess states. “You think I don’t know when something’s on your mind?” She twists the ring on Paige’s thumb as the blonde falls silent, thinking. “I don’t want you to ice me out,” she admits. “We said we wouldn’t do that. If there’s something wrong –”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Paige says quickly. She squeezes Tess’s hand, craning her head to press a gentle kiss on her temple. “Nothing’s wrong. Believe me. Everything’s perfect. Just…a big moment for us right now.”
“Free agency?” Tess asks, turning around in Paige’s embrace to face her fully after adjusting her arms. Paige’s face looks torn, uncertain – free agency has to be what’s weighing on her now, right? They’ve had this conversation numerous times, especially late at night after rough games when they’re missing each other and the distance feels like a burden. They’ve done this before, which is what Tess clings onto – they’ve been hundreds of miles apart in college but it’s so different now that they’re in the league and that they know their future is with one another.
“Free agency is up there,” Paige confesses after a while, frowning. “We don’t gotta talk about it right now. This is our vacation.”
“We say that every time,” Tess says softly, trying to start a conversation, not an argument. That’s been one of the biggest points of growth with Paige over the past few years. Tess is often too quick to jump to a conclusion, to get into her head about a situation or however Paige must feel about something. They’ve had these growing pains discussions numerous times, learning to be patient and trust each other more and more. Tess searches Paige’s features. “You and I both want to play ball. You know I don’t mind competing against you, but…I don’t like the distance, either. So, what do you want from whatever team you’re interested in?”
Paige hesitates, but Tess stares at her imploringly. “A younger team,” she says. “Lots of people are retiring. Stewie, BG, Sloot, Natasha. I wanna go to a team that’s gonna be together for a while, be a championship contender. I wanna be closer to you, too.”
“Okay,” Tess says, feeling slightly relieved – she and Paige are in agreement on that much. She wants longevity, a team that’s reliable, where she can settle down. She’s been stubborn on keeping up her apartment lease in LA just because she didn’t want to purchase anything permanent that wouldn’t have both hers and Paige’s name on it. “Do you have a team in mind?”
“I’ve talked to some people, yeah,” Paige says. “Have you?”
Tess nods. Paige’s thumb finds her jaw, tracing the skin there absentmindedly. “Say it on three?”
“On three,” Paige confirms. “One.”
Tess swallows. “Two.”
Together, they both say “Three,” and then –
“Valkyries,” they say at the exact same time.
The tension melts from Paige’s shoulders immediately as Tess breaks into peals of laughter. Paige shakes her head fondly, tucking her chin into the crook of Tess’s neck to hide the blush on her cheeks. “Okay. So we’ll sign with the Valkyries if they reach out to us during free agency.”
“Don’t think there’s gonna be an ‘if,’” Paige says quietly. “I talked to Azzi and she said Natalie was very interested in us. They recently got some crazy salary cap increase so I think their plan was to splurge on us, make it hard to say no. Pretty sure they also got Kiki and Ayoka to resign, so me, you, Azzi, Kiki, and Ayoka? Playoffs, easily.”
“Oh, so you think we’re starters?” Tess asks teasingly.
“You think they’re gonna drop a couple million on bench players?”
Tess shakes her head fondly, but presses her lips to Paige’s hairline, unable to keep the smile off her face. “I can’t believe we’ll be playing together next season,” she murmurs, feeling Paige tighten her arms around her waist. “After kicking your ass for nine straight years –”
“That is not what happened,” Paige interrupts, smushing her finger into Tess’s cheek. “2025? Ring a bell? UConn natty?”
“I recall a lot of things from that night but a natty was not one,” Tess states. “I remember you coming to my hotel room, and –”
Paige slides her hand across Tess’s mouth, shutting her up, but her eyes are slightly wide. “Don’t,” she says softly. The corner of her mouth twitches like she’s trying to hold back laughter. Tess rolls her eyes and she pushes Paige’s hand off of her. “Does this mean we gotta start apartment hunting now?”
Tess hums. “Maybe a house?” she suggests, watching Paige’s reaction carefully. As her words sink in, a smile grows unabashed on Paige’s face.
“You wanna buy a house with me?”
“Paige,” Tess says, a little indignant. “Duh?” Paige’s expression turns unbelievably tender, her smile softening. Tess quirks a grin of her own. “I’m thinking of something permanent, you know? Settle down, finally? Stay with the Valkyries until we’re, what – 40 something, Diana Taurasi style. Retire in the Bay. We’ll have our house, maybe four bed, couple baths. Us, maybe a kid or two, guest room for our friends. We’ll probably be coaching somewhere, collecting our rings when we’re old and washed up.” Tess swallows, realizing the gravity of what she’s just said. “I mean, if that’s something you’d be interested in.”
“Tess.”
“Hm?”
“Shut up.”
Before she can respond, Paige’s fingers are curling around her neck, pulling her in closer until their lips meet, and kissing her with a softness and a gentleness that hasn’t disappeared after so many years together. Tess can’t help but smile, feeling the promise, the agreement, that Paige presses against her. When she draws back, Paige’s smile is wide, her teeth showing and the corners of her eyes crinkling. “I want that with you,” Paige murmurs, just so that there’s absolutely no confusion. “Lemme put a ring on it before we start talking about kids, yeah?”
Tess narrows her eyes dramatically. “You need to hurry it up, then,” she says. “I won’t wait around forever.”
Paige lifts one of her hands, kissing her knuckles with a coy smile. “Trust me. Gonna make it worth your while, baby.”
Tess honestly should have known that she had another trick up her sleeve, but she was too lost in the moment to overthink her words. So she acquiesced, giving into the deep, lingering kiss that Paige pressed into her lips, letting herself sink further into their bed and reveling in the way Paige’s lips danced across her skin.
The rest of the week passed with little interruption or further weirdness. Paige did seem a little nervous at times, though the moment never lasted too long, so Tess didn’t think much of it. She and Paige continued to make the most of their time in Italy. They had a private couple’s painting event, where Paige, for whatever reason, painted the two of them as stick figures driving around in a basketball shaped car (she’s lucky that Tess is in love because otherwise…God help her). Paige booked them in with a renowned Italian chef who taught them how to make homemade pasta and various sauces, which went as well as one could expect – that is to say Tess was just endlessly distracted by the way the veins in Paige’s hands protruded as she kneaded the dough.
Then, on Friday the 17th – Tess’s birthday – Tess woke up to Paige’s lips on her face and an assortment of brunch food. They indulged for the better part of the morning, not leaving the bed until the afternoon until their spa appointment. Paige had declared that she “deserved to be pampered” and who was Tess to argue against that? The resort masseuse and the nail techs were incredible at their jobs and Tess left the appointment feeling incredibly refreshed. Her birthday dinner was at an upscale restaurant in the heart of the city and Paige gifted her another charm for her bracelet – this time in the shape of the Italian peninsula to remind her of their time here.
Saturday the 18th was different – there was a palpable shift in the air. She woke up a little past eleven in the morning, alone, which was concerning in and of itself because Paige is rarely awake before she is. Paige is a chore to get out of bed in the mornings and always has been. She’s the CEO of “five more minutes” or “come cuddle” which, Tess will admit, has only become more endearing over the years, but right now, all it does is worry Tess after the conversation they had earlier in the week about free agency.
She hardly has the time to overthink it too much because Paige is shuffling back into their room, sporting an insane case of bedhead and a slight smudge of toothpaste lingering on her bottom lip. The blonde grins at her, easing her nerves instantly, and she presses one knee into the bed as she leans over Tess’s body, planting a kiss onto her lips. “Good morning!” she chirps, which is the next indicator that something is up.
“Good morning,” Tess says, honestly a little confused. She wipes the foam off of Paige’s lip. “What’s gotten into you?” she asks suspiciously.
“What, I can’t be happy?” Paige raises a brow, leaning in to kiss her again. Tess stops her with a hand to her chest.
“Okay, now I know you’re being weird,” Tess states. “You woke up before me. You got out of bed and attempted to make yourself…somewhat presentable, when the first thing you do in the morning is beg to be the little spoon for a little while.” As she speaks, Tess smooths out the mess on Paige’s head, frowning slightly. “You’re too happy right now. And you keep trying to distract me. So, you’re plotting something. What’s going on?”
Paige huffs dramatically, leaning away from Tess. “Nothing’s wrong, ma, swear,” she vows. Tess narrows her eyes at her, studying her features closely, but all she can make out is an anxious earnestness and unequivocal love. Paige cups her cheek as she kisses her temple gently, moving her mouth to her ear to whisper, “Everything’s perfect right now. Trust me, okay? Just wanna make you happy.”
“You do,” Tess affirms. Paige’s words soften the tension in her shoulders. Maybe she is overthinking again, which isn’t unlike her. Paige has never given her any reason to doubt her words, not in the near five years they’ve been together. She owes it to Paige to have more faith in her, in them.
A smug look crosses across Paige’s features as she pokes Tess in the cheek obnoxiously. “I know.” Tess rolls her eyes fondly as Paige leaves the bed fully. “Now get dressed. This is our last day in Italy and we got shit to do. Can you do my hair?” Tess meets her eyes through the mirror, raising a brow slightly. “Please?” Paige adds.
“I’ll house train you one day,” Tess mumbles, though she knows Paige is basically a lost cause at this point. Her girlfriend smiles at her and all of her faux annoyance washes away in an instant as Tess presses a kiss to her cheek, beginning to work on her hair. Paige gives her free reign to work and Tess elects to leave Paige’s down in natural, loose waves. Then, they get dressed – Paige dons a baggy pair of black cargos with an oversized white sweater and matching white sneakers. She doesn’t forget her chain or the various rings on her fingers, which makes Tess contemplate telling her to cancel their reservations for wherever they’re going so they can spend the day in bed (again – but that’s no one’s business but their own). Tess herself dresses in white sneakers, a pair of light-wash blue jeans, and a patterned sweater that she’d stolen directly from Paige’s luggage – the very sweater that Tess claimed made Paige look like an art teacher.
Once they’re ready to go, Paige leads her hand-in-hand down the busy streets towards a restaurant. They indulge in a late lunch, cracking jokes, sharing stories and optimism for the future – Paige wants an outdoor court built at whatever house they’re buying (possibly the least surprising thing Tess has ever heard), and Tess’s only real complaint is that she doesn’t want to live in an obnoxiously huge mansion. As long as the house has what they need and they have their family, then there’s not much else that Tess wants.
After lunch, they arrive at a private pottery making class, which takes a good few hours out of their day. Paige looked absolutely silly with her sleeves rolled up to her elbows and covered in clay, and Tess is sure that the only thing that stopped them from initiating an all-out clay war was the elderly woman who was carefully instructing them. Eventually, their creations start taking shape – a vase for Tess and a lopsided mug for Paige, and while they get fired in the kiln, the instructor talks them through the history of Italian pottery and ceramics.
Tess had thought the pottery class was their last stop on the day, but Paige had something else planned. “It’s a secret,” she claimed, but she seemed a little more nervous than she was earlier that day, which did little to quell Tess’s sudden anxiety until Paige pressed her lips to her knuckles. “Trust me.”
And so she did, allowing Paige to lead her down the streets once more in the fading daylight. The sky was lined with streaks of pinks, oranges, and a dimming yellow. Tess knows she says it a lot, but in this light, Paige looks absolutely radiant – the sharp lines of her face softened by the gentleness of the sky, the blush on her cheeks heightened by the chill in the air. Her palm was warm against Tess’s, rough in some places and smooth in others, but Tess loves every inch of Paige just the same.
Finally, the two of them stop in front of an unassuming door, one that Tess had never seen growing up here. Paige’s nerves seem to return tenfold as she pauses. Tess watches her face contort as if she’s battling some internal decision. She squeezes their linked hands, feeling the relief that exudes from Paige’s body, and the blonde smiles tentatively. “You first,” she states, resting her free hand over the door knob. Tess gives a confused, yet trusting nod, as Paige opens the door and ushers her inside.
The breath is all but sucked from her lungs as soon as she’s indoors. The lighting in the room is dim, but Tess can see nearly everything. The rose petals creating a path for them, the flickering of candles strewn about, but the part that truly captures her attention are the polaroids that hang from the ceiling on thin twine strings. The one closest to the entrance are incredibly new, selfies of the two of them from the week before, a picture of Tess and Paige swept up with Tess’s extended family. There’s a solo shot of Tess grinning at the camera for Paige, dolled up in her birthday dress and holding a glass of wine.
Paige doesn’t say anything – she doesn’t have to. She rests her palms over Tess’s hips as she guides the both of them forward, allowing Tess the time to properly look at all of the pictures. As they walk through the room, which Tess figures was an art gallery given the abstract paintings on the wall, the pictures get older and older. There’s a photo of the two of them from the WNBA finals, confetti sticking to their sweat-slick bodies as they embraced in the middle of the court. There’s a photo of them at the Olympics holding up their matching gold medals. There’s countless shots of them sharing the basketball court, as rivals, and part of Tess can’t help but get choked up because they’re not going to be rivals on the court after this vacation is said and done. After nine years, she finally gets to play with Paige, as teammates, and she’s not sure if there’s anything in the world that could possibly top that feeling.
Their WNBA memories filter out, leading to their college ones. There’s one of the two of them from the national championship, displaying the two of them staring at each other – Tess on one side of an half-empty court, Paige on the other swarmed by her teammates. The pride reflected on Tess’s face is evident in the photo. There’s a bunch of other memories, their February game, holidays celebrated with each other, their summer of 2024 world tour, and photographs of them from when they were “pretending.” Tess spots herself perched on Paige’s lap during the first Thanksgiving she spent with the extended Bueckers family, arguing over Fortnite with Paige as Paige’s siblings watched on in amusement. There’s countless FaceTime screenshots, back when the two of them were truly getting to know each other, selfies from their Bose trip that changed everything, and finally, as they’re nearing the end, the photographs melt into their initial soft launch photos, that damned coffee shop and Paige’s less than subtle appearance. But the last photo isn’t like the others. The rose petal path has led them to the back end of the art gallery, still illuminated by the soft lighting. The last photo is framed. It’s of the two of them shaking hands after the first game they played against each other on February 8, 2021. That date has stuck with Tess for a while now. If you’d told her younger self in 2021 that she’d be here, now, with Paige Bueckers, she wouldn’t believe you. But now? She can’t think of anything more fitting, more obvious than her and Paige.
With tears brimming her eyes and wrought with nostalgia and gratefulness, Tess turns to meet Paige’s gaze, but she’s already looking at her. She always is. Paige looks extremely nervous, but there’s a spark of determination that Tess knows all too well.
“We met almost eight years ago,” Paige states, her voice soft as her shaky hands reach out for Tess’s. “In Gampel. We played against each other and I learned so much from you – I just didn’t have the courage to talk to you, and I regretted that for months. Then, two years after that, in May of 2023, God sent you to me again. It was awkward, and unconventional, and I thought you didn’t like me –” the two of them share a watery laugh, “–but I knew I had to make the most of it. Of us. I wasn’t gonna let you get away from me, not again. So we fake dated. I just wanted you in any way you’d have me. I was happy to just be your friend. But as time went by, I fell for you, and…” Paige smiles at her. “I was scared at first, but part of me knew it was gonna happen. You’re a competitor, you’re stubborn, and the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known. You get me, always have, and me falling in love with you was real. We’re real. I’m so thankful for what we have, for you, and knowing that we’ll be playing together next season is everything I’ve wanted for nearly eight years. I can’t wait to do this with you. I can’t wait to build a life with you. On New Year’s Eve in 2023, I told you my resolution was building something permanent. I’ve kept that promise, but I’m gonna amend that to say my resolution is to build something permanent with you.”
Paige releases her hands, exhaling, and Tess almost chokes on a sob when Paige carefully drops down to one knee, her hands reaching into her pocket to produce a small ring box. Her hands shake as she opens the top, revealing the gold engagement band and a stunning, sparkling diamond, minimalist yet beautiful in the way Tess prefers her jewelry. But the ring doesn’t hold her attention for too long. She gazes down at Paige, at the tears beading at her waterline, the clear anticipation and nervousness and unfiltered love in her eyes. Tess watches a soft smile spread across Paige’s face as she finally asks the question she’s been waiting to hear for years. “Tess Kennedy, will you make me the happiest woman in the world and marry me?”
Tess doesn’t even have to think about it. She sinks down across from Paige, throwing her arms around her neck and pulling her in for a bone-crushing hug. “Oh my fucking God,” she murmurs, not even feelingly slightly ashamed as she soaks Paige’s sweater with her tears. Paige wraps her arms around her middle, pulling her close tightly as she laughs.
“So is that a yes?”
“Yes, Paige,” she stresses, barely resisting an eye roll when Paige’s face lights up, simultaneously melting with relief. “I told you I wanted to marry you almost four years ago. You really thought my answer was gonna change?”
Paige huffs, amused, as she slides the ring onto Tess’s finger. The candlelight reflects beautifully off it. The ring is gorgeous but Tess can’t keep her eyes off of Paige, whose eyes shine with tears and gratitude. “Just wanted to hear you say it.” Her tone is gentle but also a little smug. “Tess Kennedy wants to marry me,” she sing-songs.
Tess rolls her eyes fully as she and Paige stand up. “You literally got down on one knee and asked, you jerk,” she retorts, reaching up to cup Paige’s cheek and brushing away one of her tears. Her voice is soft despite her words, which makes Paige laugh as she grabs Tess by her wrist and presses a kiss to her open palm, her smile bright and fully enamored. Then, a realization dawns on Tess and she groans, pressing her forehead into Paige’s shoulder. “Oh my God. Is this what you were so nervous about last week? Not free agency?”
Paige laughs, a sound straight from the belly as she wraps her arms around Tess’s shoulders. “I didn’t lie. I was a little nervous about free agency, but I was a lot more nervous for this. Knew you’d say yes – you’re in love with me and shit –”
“And shit?” Tess asks, shaking her head.
Paige nudges her. “Just wanted to make it perfect for you,” she admits, all teasing gone from her tone. “Told you I had to make it worth your while.”
“It was perfect,” Tess says honestly. “You could have asked me anywhere, anytime, and I would say yes. I love you. But I did really like the pictures.”
Paige pulls back to grin at her. “Thought you would,” she murmurs, leaning down to kiss her gently. “I love you, too. Is it too early to call you Mrs. Bueckers?”
Tess pushes her away with a hand to her chest, affronted. “For the record, we’re hyphenating,” she declares. “Mrs. and Mrs. Bueckers-Kennedy.”
“Might not fit on the jerseys,” Paige goads.
“We’re gonna win the Valkyries a couple of championships,” Tess says. “They’re going to have so much money they’ll figure out how to get our names together on the jerseys.”
Paige smiles again. “That works for me,” she says, softer this time. She presses her lips to Tess’s again, pulling her flush against her body, enveloping her in a warmth she’s content to feel for the rest of her life. Tess grins against her, but Paige responds with a smile of her own, not minding, only holding her tighter.
She doesn’t know how to explain it – this overwhelming happiness. She’s engaged – oh my God, she’s fucking engaged; her parents are going to lose their mind – and she has everything she’s ever wanted. That much was true years ago when she had her natty wins and her girlfriend, but now? She has her fiance and the promise of a future together, on the same team, in the same house in the Bay, and all she really knows is that she can’t wait to walk down that aisle whenever the time comes.
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spatialwave · 2 days ago
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V's All That
Chapter 4 || The Movie
➥ Summary: Jayce Talis, the school's golden boy and a guaranteed pick for Prom King, seems to have it all—looks, charm, and popularity. However, when Kino presents him with the opportunity to win back Mel, his ex-girlfriend and the one who got away, Jayce jumps at the chance. The challenge? To transform Viktor, a snarky outcast who is as far from popular as possible, into Prom King instead. Jayce takes the bait, but he may have taken on more than he can handle. ➥ Word Count: 4.4k ➥ Pairing: Jayce Talis x Viktor || Arcane
🧡 beta'd by @spxllcxstxr 🩷 art by @wapimostosis 🧡 available on ao3
<- part 3.
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“...Hello?”
“Hey! How’s it going?”
“Jayce? How’d you get my number?” Viktor’s voice was a mix of surprise and irritation as he spoke through the telephone, voice crackling from the poor connection. In the background, Jayce could hear the low murmur of a television.
“Sky gave it to me. I tried looking you up in the phonebook, then realized I don’t know your last name.” Jayce’s voice was light, a smile spreading across his face as he twirled around the cord of his landline phone between his fingers. He was sprawled across the mess of pillows at the head of his bed, the warm glow of his bedside lamp illuminating him.
“Weirdo. You do know you could have just asked for it from me, right?” Viktor hummed as he held the receiver tighter to his ear and leaned against the wall, rolling his eyes. 
The week had raced by; Tuesday night’s D&D session was a forgotten blur, and the weekend loomed ahead as Friday slipped into the night—the moon bright in the sky.
An entire week of Jayce relentlessly weaving his way into the fabric of Viktor’s life, seizing every opportunity that came his way—the short drive to school in the mornings that he graciously offered, the casual wave and smile exchanged in the busy halls, or the sneaky notes passed during class. Viktor wanted to be angry about it, to look the other way and crumple the notes without a reply, but his curiosity sparked brighter every time Jayce prodded at him. He turned a blind eye to the question lingering in the back of his mind: What was Jayce wanting out of this?
“Yeah, well,” Jayce’s voice broke through Viktor’s thoughts, “You’re scary.”
Viktor couldn’t help but laugh, and it sent a thrill through Jayce as his stomach swirled. A feeling he’d grown familiar with since he’d met him.
“You do realize how late it is, right?” Viktor murmured, a hint of playfulness on his tongue.
“You don’t like late-night chats?” Jayce teased, gaze fixed upwards at the ceiling. Zoned out, listening to every sound that came from the other end of the line.
“Unlike you, I don’t have a telephone in my bedroom. I’m standing in my kitchen, and it’s very cold. I’d rather be in bed.” Viktor spoke sternly, but his voice was tinged with amusement. His eyes flickered to the digital clock displayed on the stove, and the red numbers glared back at him, a reminder that it was well past midnight.
“How’d you know I’m in my room?” 
Viktor chuckled, “Lucky guess. Goodnight, Jayce.”
The dial tone hit Jayce’s ear before he had the chance to utter his own goodbye, left holding the buzzing receiver as he wore a toothy grin. “Night,” he murmured, exhaling a shaky breath as he rolled over and hung up the phone. All that effort for a thirty-second call, and even with the short amount of time he was given—he was giddy. Smiling to himself, he turned off his lamp and buried his face into the pillow. The only light illuminating him was the cool tones of the moon that poured through the open curtains.
Viktor, on the other hand, well, he couldn’t catch a break. Not even over the weekend. He stood in the kitchen leaning against the wall with his hand clutched over his t-shirt, eyes staring out the open window above the kitchen sink. He hated it—how his heart hammered so hard in his chest that he felt faint. All from what? 
A phone call from Jayce? 
He needed to pull himself together, take a step back, and reevaluate a week that had been unlike any other in his four years of high school. He was beginning to receive strange looks in the hall and sneers from those who questioned why Jayce, of all people, wanted his attention.
As he tossed and turned in bed, all he could think about was Jayce and that goddamn smile that melted his heart. The gap between his front teeth, his hazel eyes that crinkled at the corners when he laughed too hard—normal things that he really shouldn’t have been noticing, but they were etched into his mind.
Perhaps the rest of the weekend would provide respite and the opportunity to think over everything. Though, that wasn’t in the cards, and he knew it.
When Saturday rolled around, Jayce woke up knowing that he had to keep up his persistence; he couldn’t let the weekend go by without seeing Viktor. It was all for the bet, of course. The sooner he befriended him, the more time he would have to help him climb the social ladder and the easier it would be to make him Prom King.
He reminded himself of this as he stood on Viktor’s doorstep, uninvited, with the sun high in the sky, warming the exposed skin of his biceps. It was past noon, and when he knocked on the door, he was surprised to receive no response.
His eyes shifted to the driveway, where a vehicle was parked, and he huffed in frustration. Taking a step back, he looked over the home—this was the right address.
Once more, he knocked on the door firmly until it opened hastily. “Yes, yes, what is it?” a voice drawled. An unfamiliar man stood in the doorway—his tired eyes, sunken cheeks, bald head, and glasses perched low on his hooked nose, giving him a weary appearance. “Oh, can I help you?”
Jayce’s eyes widened as he looked at the man, straightening up and considering the high likelihood that this person was Viktor’s father. This was it; he needed to make a good impression.
He nodded and cleared his throat while a casual smile spread across his lips. “Is Viktor here? I’m Jayce Talis, a friend of his from school. Are you…”
“Dr. Reveck,” the man replied, a small, knowing smile growing on his lips as he looked Jayce up and down, assessing this unfamiliar stranger. “Hm. Nice to meet you, Jayce.”
Dr. Reveck opened the door wider, stepping aside to invite him into the rather beautiful home. It felt a bit sad and empty, lacking colour and decoration, but nonetheless, it was well-maintained and lovely. Surprising, especially for this part of town, Jayce thought.
“You too. You’ve got a nice home. Really nice,” Jayce said with ease, his eyes flickering around as he walked further into the foyer. “Is it a bad time?” His hazel eyes shifted to the car keys in the man’s hands, noticing he was about to leave.
“Actually, I was just on my way out. Viktor is upstairs, second door on the right,” the doctor said with that same small, eerie smile on his lips as he motioned toward the stairs, urging Jayce to go.
“Oh, well, I don’t need to go all the way up there. I don’t want to intrude; he technically didn’t invite—”
“I’m sorry, but I am really in a rush. It was nice to meet you, Jayce.”
“Wait—” Jayce began, but the door was promptly shut in his face. He stared blankly at the back of the white door, caught in a situation where he felt he was intruding too much for his own good. “Jesus Christ,” he murmured under his breath as he crossed his arms over his chest and looked up the stairs, debating whether to leave or make his way up.
Ultimately, Jayce decided on the latter. If Dr. Reveck let him in, then maybe Viktor was expecting him. Maybe.
The stairs creaked beneath his feet as he slowly ascended them, his eyes glancing over the few pictures hung on the wall. One in particular caught his attention, prompting him to stop in his tracks. It was an older photo framed in dark mahogany wood—Dr. Reveck, Viktor, and a young girl with bright hair and eyes. Viktor, leaning on a cane, looked slightly out of place but still appeared happy.
Where was his mother?
Jayce pulled his gaze away and continued up the stairs, his curious eyes scanning his surroundings as he reached the second floor. He turned the corner, his gaze settling on the door Dr. Reveck had instructed him to go to, and suddenly, his stomach twisted. This felt wrong. He imagined Viktor kicking him out, accusing him of being a stalker for showing up unannounced. 
Despite his doubts, he pressed on, unable to hold himself back. He walked down the empty hallway, cringing as the floorboards creaked beneath him—lips parting to call out for Viktor to break the heavy silence that weighed him down.
Then, Viktor slowly emerged from his bedroom, half-asleep, his brown hair wild and sticking out in every direction. He rubbed his eyes to shake off the sleep and turned down the hall toward Jayce, who wore a horrified expression as if he had just been caught in the act of murder.
“Hey—” He attempted awkwardly, crinkling his nose.
“What the hell!” Viktor exclaimed, dropping his hands and jumping back, his eyes wide as they landed on Jayce. He nearly stumbled without his cane but managed to steady himself. He was used to slow and steady movements at home—not being jump-scared by classmates. Clutching his oversized shirt, several sizes too big for him, he looked Jayce up and down. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?”
Jayce took a step back, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. He raised his hands in front of him as if to show he meant no harm. “I’m sorry! I didn’t realize you were asleep!”
Neither of them could catch a break.
“Did you break in?”
“What? No—” Jayce exclaimed, his eyes widening. “Your dad let me in.”
“Fucking hell,” Viktor sighed dramatically. His arms relaxed at his sides as he closed his eyes for a moment to steady his racing heart. “Sorry, that was accusatory. I just… fuck.” He looked back at Jayce, frowning. “You can’t just show up at people’s houses uninvited. Why are you here?”
“Well,” Jayce said, popping his lips together as he reached into his front pocket to pull out two small slips of paper, “I was going to see if you wanted to watch a movie with me this afternoon. Then, your dad—”
“Not my dad.”
“Oh, okay. Well, whoever he is, he invited me in and told me I could come to your room, so I figured you were awake. If it were up to me, I would’ve waited downstairs.” Jayce explained, praying Viktor wouldn’t kick him out. “I’m sorry.”
Viktor’s right hand reached out, steadying himself against the wall. He wanted to kick Jayce out and yell at him for disturbing him and never to show his face again, hoping to leave behind whatever was happening between them. But that’s not what he really wanted. 
Even after being terrified to near death, he couldn’t blame Jayce. Dr. Reveck was far too lost in his own mind to make sound judgments, so if anyone needed to be blamed, it would be him. Leave it up to him to invite strangers into their home.
Viktor was grasping for any small reason to keep Jayce around.
“It’s okay. You don’t need to apologize. I just… wasn’t expecting anyone,” He murmured, attention moving to the two movie tickets in Jayce’s hand—his heart skipped a beat. "Which movie?”
“Kill Bill Two.” Jayce showed them off, a tiny smile pulling at the corners of his lips, “Popcorn and drinks are on me.”
Viktor stared at him, wondering if his blushing cheeks were noticeable. Even if they were, he didn’t care because Jayce Talis was at his house unannounced, asking him to go to the movies. Jayce Talis. The entire week felt like a fever dream, and it seemed like it would never end. He didn’t want it to end.
“You like Kill Bill?” Viktor raised an eyebrow, skeptical.
“I haven’t watched the first one, but Sky said—”
“You asked Sky again? Jayce, you know you can ask me, right?” Viktor let out an exasperated sound, his free hand landing over his hip.
“You just accused me of breaking in! You’re scary!” Jayce exclaimed back, a big smile spread across his face as the tension between them dissipated. He was luckier than he liked to think.
Viktor snorted, smirking, “You’re incredibly annoying. This is the first and last time I’ll go to the movies with you. Only because I feel bad that you’re wasting your money.”
“I’m not wasting it,” Jayce shrugged, his eyes softening into those big doe eyes that made Viktor’s insides burn hot, “If you said no, I would refund them and ask you next weekend.”
“Oh,” Viktor mumbled, mouth growing dry. He turned his gaze away, waving his hand at him dismissively, “Wait downstairs. I’ll get ready.”
Jayce’s demeanour brightened as he followed the instructions. Heavy steps echoed down the stairs, and he paused to examine the photo that had first caught his eye. He knew that Viktor was a private person; despite their few morning drives to school and passing notes, he still knew nothing about Viktor's personal life.
His gaze settled on the younger girl in the photo, who resembled Dr. Reveck, and he wondered who she was. However, he quickly dismissed the thought and returned to the main floor. He lingered in the foyer, busying himself with the mirror that hung on the wall, now covered in a layer of dust. He carefully fixed his hair and rubbed his growing stubble—he’d need to shave soon. 
Time passed quickly while he focused on his appearance, his solitude interrupted by the sound of Viktor’s cane tapping against the wooden stairs as they creaked beneath him. Jayce looked up as he reached the bottom of the stairs, still wearing that same Deftones shirt he seemed so fond of. It had started to get a hole in the bottom seam, the thread fraying.
“If you’re hungry, I can grab you some food at a drive-thru before the movie starts,” Jayce suggested thoughtfully, waiting at the bottom of the stairs with his fingers curled around his keys.
Viktor gripped the railing of the staircase with his left hand. “I’m not very hungry. Thanks, though.” He straightened himself as he reached the bottom of the stairs, but it was no use—Jayce still towered over him.
“You sure? Breakfast is important,” Jayce said, leading the way out the front door and watching as Viktor locked up behind them.
“I hardly think junk food breakfast is important.” Viktor teased, slipping his house keys into his front pocket as he turned around to look at Jayce. He appeared so ethereal under the sun's warm light, his sun-kissed skin glowing, the golden undertones in his brown hair glistening, and his toothy smile shining. Viktor dropped his gaze, knowing very well that appreciating Jayce’s attractiveness was dangerous territory.
When they reached the theatre, Viktor was thankful for the distraction of the movie. He’d spent nearly the entire ride stealing glances at Jayce; he needed to focus on something else before he acted on the feelings swirling in his mind—feelings he knew weren’t mutual.
“There’s… no one else here,” Jayce mumbled as they moved into the third-to-last row of the theatre, nestled right in the middle. He held the popcorn on his lap, lifting a hand to remove the candy bag he had held between his teeth while Viktor set their drinks into the cup holders. After one more quick glance around the theatre, he swallowed down a nervous lump, not wanting to admit the nerves flooding his stomach at the prospect of being alone with Viktor for well over two hours.
Viktor hummed in acknowledgment and glanced around, taking in the empty theatre. “Saturday matinee shows are popular with families. I don’t think many parents are taking their toddlers to Kill Bill.” He reached over, taking a handful of popcorn and popping a few into his mouth as he watched the movie previews play over the large screen. 
“I didn’t peg you as a Quentin Tarantino lover,” Jayce murmured, still keeping his voice hushed. “I thought you liked Lord of the Rings and Star Trek, that kind of stuff.” He reached into the buttered popcorn, indulging in the salty snack.
“Wow. You sure like to assume, don’t you?” Viktor mumbled, wiping the salt from his hands with a flimsy napkin. “I wouldn’t call myself a fan. I went to the first one with Sky last year on Halloween and really liked it. I haven’t seen any of his other films.”
“Really? You’re not a fan?” Jayce’s eyes widened as he looked over at him, swallowing down his handful of popcorn. “I thought you were a movie buff.”
“Hardly. I prefer reading or playing games,” Viktor answered honestly. “I like some movies.”
“So you haven’t watched Pulp Fiction? Now that’s a classic,” Jayce said. “I have it on VHS.”
“Honestly, he seems like a pretentious director,” Viktor shrugged, taking more popcorn into his hands and meeting Jayce’s gaze, smiling. “Are you a movie buff?”
“I like movies, but I wouldn’t call myself a buff—just a casual enjoyer,” Jayce smiled, his eyes returning to the screen as the previews came to an end. The lights in the room began to dim until the only illumination came from the projector.
“I hope you’re not a chatter at the cinema, Jayce. Don’t you know anything about theatre etiquette?” Viktor kept his eyes ahead, grinning as he dug into the candies and pushed one between his teeth.
“I am. The worst of the worst, unfortunately.” Jayce hummed, leaning to his right against the arm of the seat between them. Viktor didn’t mind; he leaned to his left until their arms brushed together, leaving his stomach in a swirling mess, but he pushed past it.
He wanted this. Whatever this was.
“How annoying,” Viktor responded, smiling to himself as he let his mind relax and focused on the movie. 
It was two hours of pure torture—for both. Jayce asked one too many questions, which resulted in Viktor giving him the cold shoulder for fifteen minutes until he got the memo, and their hands bumped together as they reached for popcorn enough times that they put it aside by mid-way through the film. The gentle contact was enough to spark a fire between them, their bodies and cheeks growing hot as they tried to ignore the awkward tension.
It’s not a date, Jayce reminded himself several times, giving himself a mental reprimand for shivering anytime his fingers brushed against Viktor’s and the handful of times he found himself glancing over and staring—the flickering light of the big screen brightening his tired features. Admiring him until Viktor would glance over, and he’d quickly snap his head back to the movie.
It had been going well for Viktor, as he fully immersed himself in the movie, but there was one moment he knew he would think about over and over while he fell asleep. In a rather intense scene at the end of the film, they both jumped in their seats, and their hands clasped together. Their fingers intertwined for a brief moment, and a few seconds later, they both realized their mistake.
“Oh, sorry,” Jayce huffed, pulling his hand away and wiping it over his jeans. Clammy from the touch—that was going to stay with him for a while.
“It’s okay,” Viktor muttered, his breath catching in his throat as his hands clasped together on his lap. “You’re… really sweaty.” He chuckled, smiling to himself as he kept his eyes focused ahead and saw the look Jayce shot him in his peripheral vision.
“Shut up.”
As the movie ended, both stood up, groaning from their few hours in the uncomfortable seats. There wasn’t enough cheap fabric to make them comfortable.
“Was the first one better? I probably should’ve watched it before this. Was she after Bill in both movies?” Jayce spoke through the chews of the last piece of candy as they exited the empty theatre. 
“Nope, not as good as the first one,” Viktor said bluntly, their popcorn and drinks discarded into the trash bins they passed by, “and yes, you definitely should’ve watched the first one.” He inhaled deeply as they stepped outside, the spring breeze chilly on his skin. Feeling brave, he looked up at Jayce and spoke, “We should watch Pulp Fiction tonight. You said you have it on VHS, right? Maybe you can convince me to become a Tarantino fan.” 
Jayce’s eyes widened, and he looked at Viktor as they made their way down the street toward his parked car. His heart thumped into his ribs, and he beamed, “Tonight? I mean, yeah—wait. Shit. I can’t.” He groaned, “There’s a party tonight at Maddie’s. Her parents are gone for the weekend, so… yeah.”
“Oh,” he murmured, hoping his deflated attitude wasn’t obvious. That was the last time he’d go out of his way to ask someone to hang out, “It’s fine. I shouldn’t have assumed you were free on a Saturday night, Mr. Popular.”
Jayce chewed on his bottom lip, glancing at Viktor as he shoved his hands into his front jeans pockets. “You should come,” he suggested, offering a not-so-convincing smile.
Viktor paused, staring up at Jayce as he laughed—a genuine laugh that bubbled up from his chest. He shook his head, smiling big. “Absolutely not.”
“Oh, come on,” Jayce whined, taking a step closer to him so he could bump his arm against his, “You’re not as awkward as I pegged you to be. You’ll be fine.”
“My social skills have nothing to do with this,” Viktor corrected him, shaking his head in disbelief, “I just don’t like people. I’m allowed to dislike people. It’s my right to freedom of expression.”
Jayce pouted, jutting out his bottom lip, “Please?” 
Both men paused in their steps, staring at each other. The tension grew between them, and the persistence and pout struck a nerve in Viktor. The mere idea of a high school party wasn’t scary per se, but it didn’t sound enjoyable in the slightest. Drunk teenagers, loud bass-heavy music and people who often gave him the side-eye judging him all night. It was a recipe for disaster for someone like him.
“Why do you even want me there?” Viktor leaned on his cane, brows furrowing together as he deflected, “Why have you spent all week trying to be my friend?”
“Woah, okay. Listen—” Jayce started, eyes widening as Viktor rambled at him, bringing up everything he was hoping to avoid.
Viktor cut him off. “Not once have you even asked about help studying chemistry. Even if you did, I know you don’t need help. Now you’re taking me to movies and asking me to parties?” Viktor shook his head, brows furrowed together, “It’s fucking weird.”
“Okay, yeah, I see why this seems weird,” Jayce admitted, chewing on the inside of his cheek nervously, “I know we’ve never talked before. It’s just, well, you’re not exactly easy to approach.” 
Viktor raised an eyebrow, “So it’s my fault you’ve ignored me for years?” 
Jayce winced. “No, no. Not at all.” He urged, stepping closer, “You’re just intimidating to approach, alright? You’re crazy smart, and you’ve got this vibe where it feels like you can see through everyone’s bullshit, and I like that. I really like that. I mean, you are the only person I’ve interacted with who actually shut me down and told me to fuck off. You don’t give a shit about popularity, and I like that about you. I guess I thought maybe hanging out with you would be... better.” 
Viktor felt his heart patter, his stomach swirling with butterflies. The skepticism he felt wasn’t as strong anymore as he stared up at Jayce, indulging in the charisma he oozed. “Better how?” He murmured.
Jayce exhaled, “Better than all that shallow crap I deal with every day. You’re not like anyone else I know, Viktor. That’s why I wanted to get to know you. No ulterior motives, I promise.”
Viktor’s lips thinned into a line, and his gaze still settled on Jayce as he forced himself to question further. “No ulterior motives,” he repeated. “You expect me to believe that?”
Jayce gave him a lopsided smile, “Yeah, because it’s the truth.” He shifted his weight between his feet, hands fidgeting in his jean pockets. “If it really makes you that uncomfortable, let’s just forget the party and watch the movie. I don’t care where we hang out. I just...” He hesitated, then chuckled softly, almost nervously. “I just think you’re kind of great, and I want to spend more time with you.”
Viktor didn’t say anything for a moment, his expression unreadable, but his mind was reeling after the confessions that were thrown at him. Jayce Talis liked him. Jayce Talis wanted to be his friend. If he was feeling faint earlier, now he really believed he might pass out. 
“You’re persistent. I’ll give you that.” He eventually mumbled, able to hear the blood rushing through his ears as he focused on keeping calm after Jayce’s nervous revelation.
Jayce perked up, his grin wide with boyish charm. “So, is that a yes?”
Viktor sighed, shaking his head as he turned away and kept walking, his cheeks and ears hot to the touch, “It’s a ‘fine.’ Just know I’m not happy about it.”
“Okay,” Jayce smiled, falling into step beside him. “You’ll have a great time, trust me.”
As they got back into Jayce’s vehicle, Viktor’s stomach twisted into uneasy knots as they drove towards his neighbourhood across the city. The evening loomed overhead, and he was already dreading the prospect of the party.
Viktor gripped his cane, resting it between his legs. “Drop me off at Powder’s. You can pick me up from her place tonight.”
“Yeah, okay,” Jayce nodded, oblivious to his nerves, “Does nine work?”
“Nine’s fine.”
Jayce hummed along to the music on the radio, tapping the steering wheel in time with the beat; Viktor’s gaze shifted to the blur of the city as they sped down the road. He wasn’t sure what worried him more—the party or the way Jayce’s relentless optimism made him believe his intentions were pure. He’d been through enough bullshit and torment in his life, and somehow, after all his distrust of others—he really believed him.
As they neared Powder’s house, Viktor couldn’t shake the feeling that the party was going to change everything.
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mattsobvimyfav · 18 hours ago
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neighbor (matthew sturniolo)
pt 12
The next morning, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. My mind was a mess, replaying every word Matt had said the night before, every expression on his face as he finally told me the truth.
He’d been honest—brutally honest—and now I was left to unpack it all. He told me that Abbie had been his girlfriend up until a month ago. He said he was happy with her, or at least he thought he was. He believed he loved her. But then I came back into his life, and it hit him like a tidal wave.
“All the emotions, the hurt, the love, and the memories I had buried came rushing back, Y/N,” he had confessed, his voice trembling. “I tried to ignore it. I tried to pretend I didn’t feel it, but I couldn’t. And when we planned that trip… I was still with her, but I knew it wasn’t fair. I couldn’t lead her on, not when my heart was still yours. It’s always been yours.”
I hadn’t known what to say at the time, and even now, I wasn’t sure how I felt. It hurt, knowing he had lied to me just to get me back, But at the same time, I understood. I understood how complicated and messy love could be, how the lines blurred when emotions ran deep.
With a sigh, I rolled onto my side, my fingers tracing patterns on the blanket. I didn’t know where this left us.
Curiosity got the better of me. I reached for my phone, opening Matt's Instagram and scrolling through his following until I found her. Abbie.
Her profile picture showed a tall, blonde girl with warm brown eyes, standing in front of a beach sunset. She was stunning, the polar opposite of me—my dark hair, big blue eyes, and softer frame. My thumb hovered over her profile for a moment before tapping on it. Her page was filled with polished photos, perfectly curated snapshots of her life, and I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of inadequacy.
I tapped the message bar, half-expecting to see nothing, but instead, I was met with an avalanche of unread DMs. My stomach dropped. With all the messages I get in a day, I’d never noticed these, but now I couldn’t look away.
The first few messages were from a month ago: “I know who you are. Don’t pretend you don’t know about me.” “You’ve been with Matt this whole time, haven’t you? He’s been lying to both of us.”
Then they started getting angrier: “You’re a joke. You think you’re better than me? He’s going to get bored of you just like he did with everyone else.” “Have fun with him while it lasts, because when he realizes you’re not worth it, I’ll be the one laughing.”
And then the tone shifted again, dripping with resentment and heartbreak: “I hate you. I hate him. You’ve ruined everything.” “He said he loved me. How could you both do this to me?”
My hands trembled as I scrolled through the messages. I didn’t know how to feel. On one hand, I understood her pain. She was hurting, lashing out, and searching for someone to blame. But on the other hand, her words cut deep, making me question everything.
Closing my eyes, I set the phone down, taking a shaky breath. Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at the phone screen, the messages blurring into an indecipherable mess. My chest tightened, and I couldn’t stop the sob that escaped my lips.
I didn’t know how to feel. On one hand, my heart ached for Abbie. She had been hurt, blindsided by Matt’s decision to leave her, and the pain she poured into those messages was all too familiar. I’d been there once, in the position of feeling discarded and unworthy, and I knew how devastating it was.
But on the other hand, a pang of jealousy coursed through me, sharp and unexpected. She was gorgeous—tall, radiant, and confident in ways I couldn’t even fake. She looked perfect, like someone who had it all together, while I felt like a mess in comparison. And yet, Matt had left her.
For me.
But why?
The question echoed in my mind, breaking me down further. Why would he leave someone like her—someone who seemed so put-together, so amazing—for someone like me? Someone with a past as messy and broken as ours. I didn’t understand how he could look at me, with all my flaws and insecurities, and choose me over someone who seemed so effortless.
I curled up on my bed, hugging my knees to my chest as tears streamed down my face. A wave of self-doubt crashed over me, drowning out the small voice in my head that told me I was enough.
Matt had always seen something in me that I struggled to see in myself. But now, as I lay there with Abbie’s words ringing in my ears, I couldn’t help but wonder if he had made a mistake. And worse, if I was the one ruining everything all over again.
I grabbed my phone, my hands trembling as I typed out a message to Matt. The chaos in my mind was too much to handle on my own. For the first time, I couldn’t even bring myself to talk to Charlie about it. The embarrassment and shame I felt over my emotions were suffocating, wrapping around me like a weight I couldn’t shake. Reaching out to Matt felt like my only option, even if I wasn’t sure I had the strength to face his response.
Y/N: Hey...
Matt: Hey, sweetheart. Everything okay?
Y/N: I don’t know I’ve just been thinking.
Matt: About?
Y/N: Abbie.
Matt: What about her?
Y/N: I saw her messages. I didn’t mean to, but they’re there, and I read them. She’s beautiful, Matt. Like, stunning. She seems like she had everything together. I don’t get how you could leave someone like that for me.
Matt: Y/N, no.
Y/N: I mean it. She’s tall, gorgeous, probably stable. Meanwhile, I’m this emotional wreck with a history of fighting you every step of the way. I don’t understand why you’d pick me. Why would you leave her for me?
Matt: Because she wasn’t you.
Y/N: Matt.
Matt: No, listen to me. You want to know why I left her? Why I chose you? It’s because I’ve been in love with you for years, Y/N. You’re the only person I’ve ever truly loved. No one else compares, not even close. I tried to move on with Abbie because I thought I had to. I had finally accepted that I'd never hear or see you again, that I’d never have a chance to fix what I broke with you. So I tried to forget, but I couldn’t. Not even for a second.
Matt: Do you know what it felt like to see you again? To have you back in my life, even as a neighbor? It was like this massive part of me that had been missing finally clicked back into place. Abbie’s great, yeah, but she’s not you. She could never be you.
Matt: And trust me, I know I don’t deserve another chance with you after everything we’ve been through. But when we went on that trip and I saw the way you looked at me, the way you laughed with me, the way you trusted me again, I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. I couldn’t stay with her knowing my heart was never really hers.
I stared at the messages, my chest tightening with every word Matt had sent. The weight of his confession crushed me—knowing I had somehow unraveled someone else’s world just by being in his. My hands were shaking as I read the last text, and before I could stop myself, I hurled my phone at the wall. The loud crack echoed through the room, and I collapsed onto the bed, sobs ripping out of me uncontrollably.
The reaction Im having—the tears, the screaming, the sheer weight of guilt—felt too big for just this moment. This wasn’t just about Abbie or her messages. This was about Matt. About the unresolved pain he’d left behind when we fell apart the first time. All the love, the heartbreak, and the unanswered questions I had buried were clawing their way back now. Maybe it was about every piece of hurt I had never let myself feel, every wound I had never allowed to heal. The emotions surged through me, spilling out in the form of screams and tears, and I didn’t care who heard.
The door to my room flew open, and Charlie rushed in. Her face was stricken with concern as she immediately pulled me into her arms, holding me tight. She didn’t say anything, didn’t ask what was wrong. She just sat there with me, letting me cry into her shoulder as she rubbed my back softly.
Minutes passed, maybe longer—time felt like it stopped. Finally, Charlie whispered, “Chris told me everything. You don’t have to talk if you’re not ready. I get it.”
I sniffled, pulling back slightly to look at her. My voice was hoarse as I said, “Grab my phone. Read Abbie’s messages.”
Charlie hesitated for a moment but nodded, moving to where my phone lay on the floor. As she bent down to pick it up, I heard a crunch. Her face fell as she straightened up, holding the shattered device.
“Y/n…” she started, but I just shook my head, fresh tears spilling down my face. It felt like everything was falling apart, and I didn’t know how to fix it. Charlie sat back down beside me, pulling me into another hug, and this time, I didn’t resist.
A couple of hours passed in silence, the weight of everything still heavy in the air. Charlie hadn’t left my side, even when her phone buzzed with messages from Chris. She had simply told him she wouldn’t be answering for a while and to take care of things without her for the day. I was grateful she hadn’t pushed me to talk, letting me sit in my mess without judgment.
Finally, Charlie broke the silence, her voice soft but steady. “Do you want to get out of the house? Maybe get a new phone or something?”
I hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yeah... that might be good.”
Dragging myself off the couch, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the way to my room. My hair was a mess, my face puffy from crying, and the oversized clothes I wore didn’t help. Disappointment clawed at my chest as I compared myself to Abbie—her perfect hair, her confident smile, the way she looked so effortlessly put together. 
I sighed, pushing the thoughts away as best I could, and grabbed a pair of jean shorts and an oversized sweatshirt. Slipping on my worn Converse, I picked up the shattered remains of my phone from the nightstand and made my way downstairs.
Charlie was already waiting by the door with her keys, offering me a small, reassuring smile. I managed to return it faintly as we stepped out into the sunlight and climbed into her car. It wasn’t much, but it was something—a small step toward normalcy.
As Charlie drove, the quiet hum of the car was broken only by the faint sound of the radio. My mind wandered, lost in the haze of everything that had happened. My heart felt heavy, my thoughts a mess of confusion, guilt, and something I couldn’t quite name.
Suddenly, the soft, dreamy notes of "You Get Me So High" by The Neighbourhood drifted through the speakers. My chest tightened, and I immediately felt like I couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t just a song—it was our song. The one we played on repeat in his car, on lazy afternoons, during nights we swore we’d never forget.
And then, like a tidal wave, the memory of the letter he left me that day came crashing down. The letter I read a hundred times, the one I had hidden away but could never truly forget. "You’re my best friend. I love you forever."
My eyes burned, and I blinked quickly, trying to stop the tears threatening to spill. But the words replayed in my head over and over, his voice almost as if he were sitting beside me.
“Y/n, you okay?” Charlie asked softly, glancing over as we stopped at a red light.
I turned to her and nodded, forcing a smile that I knew didn’t reach my eyes. “Yeah,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. But the truth was, I wasn’t sure I was.
The song continued, weaving its way into my thoughts, and all I could do was stare out the window, clutching my broken phone like it was the only thing holding me together.
Charlie and I made our way to Best Buy first. I wasn’t expecting much, but the thought of getting a new phone—especially since I hadn’t had one since college—felt like a small thing that might help take my mind off everything else. I felt a bit silly for even getting excited, but it was nice to think about something so simple.
We walked through the aisles, and Charlie was showing me the new and different iphone models, suggesting a few options. I didn’t really care about all the technical specs, just that it would work, and it would be a change from the old phone I’d been hanging onto for far too long. Eventually, I picked out a black phone pro max that felt sleek and sturdy. It was nothing extravagant, but it was definitely an upgrade. It felt good to know I was finally getting a new one.
Charlie smiled when she saw me eyeing it. "I like the pro max way more. You’ll love it."
We went up to the register, and after a few minutes, I had my brand-new phone in hand. As we left the store, I couldn’t help but feel a small sense of relief. It wasn’t anything huge, but it was a little win in a day that had been filled with so many mixed emotions.
As we continued with the rest of the shopping—picking up a few random things at the mall and grabbing snacks. When we got in the car to head to dinner, I hadn’t even opened the phone yet. I kept it in its box, feeling like maybe it was best to leave it for later.
We decided on an Italian restaurant nearby, Charlie and I’s comfort food. Charlie tried her best to keep the mood light, talking about everything from old college days to random drama on the internet, and I found myself laughing along.
"So, when are you going to open that new phone?" she asked as we got into the car, pointing to the box in my lap. "Come on, I know you're dying to check it out."
I hesitated, looking at the phone. “I don’t know,” I said, finally. “It’s kind of dumb, part of me’s kind of excited about it. It’s just a phone, but I don't feel like having it right now, you know?”
Charlie laughed. “I get it. It’s the little things, right? You’ve had the same one forever.”
I nodded, putting the phone back in its box. “Yeah, you would think with our jobs being on my phone I would've gotten a new one.”
Charlie drove us back home, I felt a little lighter. I hadn’t solved everything, but at least for tonight, I had something to focus on other than the mess in my head.
When we finally got home, the night air cool and crisp, Charlie and I sat down on the couch, and she grabbed my new phone from its box, her fingers quick as she started setting it up for me.
"Ready to join the world again?" she teased, handing me the phone once it was all set up.
I nodded, taking it from her with a soft smile. I hesitated for a moment before turning the screen on. As the phone came to life, I felt a little jolt of excitement, and I started to type in my passwords, getting everything back to where it needed to be.
Then, the notifications came through. Text after text popped up, and I quickly saw a few names I recognized—Chris, Matt, and Nick. My heart skipped a beat when I saw Matt's name, but I kept scrolling, trying not to overthink it.
The first text was from Chris: "Hey, just checking in. How are you doing? Call me if you need to talk."
I smiled softly at that. Chris always knew how to check in without being overwhelming.
Then there was Matt: "I know you probably need time, but just wanted to let you know I’m thinking of you. Please text me when you’re ready."
I bit my lip, conflicted. Matt had been so kind, but there was still so much I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to dive back into that just yet.
And then there was Nick: "Yo, can we get pizza?"
I giggled at Nick’s utter unawareness. 
But then, the final message caught my attention. It was from a random number. I opened it, and my stomach dropped. The message was exactly like the others I’d read, but this one was... different. It felt like a sting.
“Why are you doing this? Do you really think you’re the one he wants now? You’ve always been a mess, and he’s not the guy for you. I warned him, but you wouldn’t listen. You’re nothing but a distraction.”
It was from Abbie. I was furious now, wondering how the hell she even got my number. My hands were shaking as I read the message.
I felt Charlie's eyes on me, and before I could say anything, she snatched the phone from my hands. “How the fuck did she get your number?” she hissed, fury clear on her face. “This is done now.”
I didn’t say anything at first, too caught up in the anger and confusion. Charlie was already typing something into her phone, her fingers flying across the screen.
“Normally I’d say take the high road," I muttered, swiping the message away. "But I need Matt. I don’t care anymore."
Charlie didn’t even glance up from her phone, her voice a mix of determination and protectiveness. “You and Matt need each other, and this bitch needs to fuck off. I get that she’s hurt, but she cannot talk to you like this.”
I leaned back into the couch, closing my eyes and letting out a shaky breath. Charlie’s words washed over me, I felt truly supported. Things weren’t going to be perfect right away, but with her by my side, I knew I didn’t need anyone else to be okay.
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@tbfaptbfae @ch0llies @2muchofaslvt @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @mattscore @watercolorskyy @urfungi @slut4christopherr @mattsturnii @christmastreecake @izzylovesmatt @larnieboox88 @christophersstar-deactivated202 @realuvrrr @namelesssav @matts-girlfriend @emely9274
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babymetaldoll · 3 days ago
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Are you mine? - Chapter seventeen: "Hot for the teacher"
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Summary: (Y/N) gets what she wants, but not the way she'd like. Linda Barnes tries to  run the BAU her way, but the team is there to fight. Also, (Y/N) might hate certain students drooling over her husband...  Word count: 9.004 Warnings: Cursing, spoilers of Criminal Mind Ep S13 E6, E15 and E16 A/N: I always wondered how would (Y/N) deal with all the girls staring at her husband with heart eyes. Now we know. What do you guys think? 
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Spencer’s point of view
A lot can change in a person in six weeks. In the six weeks we had off, my mother got into her new facility home. She seemed happy there, and we were just a 20-minute ride away, which made me feel better. I wasn’t pushing my mother away to another city or keeping her far from her grandkids. We visited weekly, talked to her daily, and the kids brought her drawings to decorate her room.
Having time to be a family helped me fix my relationship with my wife. We talked and relaxed. We also had the chance to be a couple and resolve our problems. We even did a little trip to Disney. I swear, Raven had never been so excited before.
We also decided to move out of our apartment and started looking for a house. I wasn’t ready to leave the apartment yet, too many memories had been made there, but I knew the process was not going to be quick. Besides, after Cat had spied on us, neither of us felt completely safe living there.
Those six weeks were a gift because though we were all trying to overcome the trauma and pain Mr. Scratch had caused to all of us, it gave us the time to clear our minds. And I knew my wife was having a hard time with our work at the BAU. I could pretend I didn't see it, but it was crystal clear.
Even back then I knew (Y/N) could never be a housewife. Those six weeks were nice at first: being at home, driving our kids to school, coming back home to clean, grocery shopping, reading after lunch, and watching a movie every night. But by week three, she was going a little insane.
- “Cookies are baking, the brownie is cooling off and the clothes are off the dryer.”- she announced as she sat by my side on the couch, where I tried to read. I hummed in response and she grabbed a book as well. But she didn’t last three minutes in silence before she sighed and looked at me.
- “I’m bored.”
- “I know.”- I replied without taking my eyes from my book. (Y/N) moved closer to me on the couch and tried to look at my pages.
- “What are you reading?”- I didn’t reply, instead I moved the book so she could take a better look- “Aristotle. So you are keeping it light.”
- “What do you wanna do before we have to pick up the kids?”
- “I don’t know…”- and she wasn’t lying. She sat there, stared at the ceiling, and didn’t say another word. I finished my page and closed the book.
- “Wanna go out on a date?”
- “Sure”- she replied and didn’t move.
- “Coffee?”
- “Sure…”- she answered, not even listening to the question.
- “Or maybe ice cream.”- I suggested and stared at her.
- “Sure…”- it was like she wasn’t there.
- “Can I eat you out until you’ve come five times?”- I thought that proposal would get her attention.
- “Sure…”- but nothing. No reaction.
- “Ok chipmunk, what is it?”- I wrapped an arm around her and moved her closer to me.
- “I don’t know. I’m just… bored and stressed at the same time.” - she mumbled, almost pouting.
- “Do you miss work?”
- “I miss working, I just don’t know if I miss the BAU.”
I wish I could tell you her reply was a surprise, but it was what I expected. We had long conversations about leaving the FBI, and though we didn’t have a plan, we both knew our service days were counted.
- “Have you thought about what you’d like to do instead of the BAU?”- my question hung in the air for a few seconds before my wife sighed and shook her head.
- “Is it too sad if I tell you there is absolutely nothing? There is a blank space in my head when I think about what I could do.”
- “You mentioned teaching a few times.”
- “I did…”- she paused and moved from my arms to turn and look at me for a moment.- “But I don’t know if that is what I actually want or what I should do. And somehow they feel like two different things.”
- “You don’t have to figure it out right now.”
- “But I feel like I do, we have six weeks off, three remain, and if you ask me, all the cleaning and baking can do so much for my mental health. I need something else.”- I held her hand and kissed it, now both of us staring at each other in silence.- “Shit! The cookies!”- she suddenly jumped and ran to the kitchen. I left the book on the couch and followed her.
My limbic system was responding to that scene: my wife taking cookies out of the oven. It made me feel the primitive need to protect her. To make her happy, to show her how much she meant to me. My wife, the woman who always took care of me and our family. I had to make sure she was happy, at all costs.
- “Wha…”- (Y/N) didn’t have time to finish her question as I grabbed her by the waist and kissed her. She moaned as I deepened the kiss and moved my hands diligently to unzip her pants.
- “Spencer…”
- “I told you I was gonna make you come five times.”- I whispered as I sat her on the counter and pulled down her pants until her bare legs were right in front of my face.
- “I thought you were bragging.”- (Y/N) replied and bit her lower lip playfully
- “I’ll give you something to brag about, Mrs. Reid.”
- “What about coffee and ice cream?”- my wife asked as I pulled her underwear to the side and licked her slowly. Her whole body shook as an instant reaction.
- “I’ll get you an affogato on our way to school.”
(Y/N)’s point of view
The first couple of cases felt odd. Being back in the bullpen was like coming back to school after summer break. I could tell Matt Simmons was excited to be part of the team, and it felt good to be back with the gang. We were helping people, making a difference. That was my mantra. Fuck “Wheels up” to keep me sane, I had to remind myself over and over again people were safer because we did our job.
But it only took a few weeks before I started feeling trapped at the FBI. It was overwhelming because I kept trying to fight that feeling, but sometimes I felt paralyzed with stress and anxiety. I kept feeling there was no way out of that job. That I was doomed to be there until my last day.
It didn’t help to see how Spencer was thrilling with every case. He was back to work like nothing had happened. My husband was right back in his element, while I struggled with a gnawing emptiness.
But I did what I do best under these circumstances: I pretended nothing was bothering me. I focused on enjoying the few things that made me happy as I tried to find something that filled the void at work. Raven had started taking swimming lessons back then, which were very exciting, because she was growing up so fast, and she was so glad to be part of a team and make new friends. I tried to go with her to as many lessons as possible, cheering her on and sending all of our family and friends pictures of my baby.
Until Spencer gave me a reality check.
- “Just because Raven found what makes her happy doesn’t mean you have to live through her. You still need to find something to fill your soul.”
His words hit me like a slap of truth. We were in the middle of the dark in our room, as he held me close to him. My head was on his chest, his arms were around me, and his words hit me harder than the bullet an unsub put in my arm a few years before.
- “Why don’t you sugarcoat it a little?”- I whispered and didn’t even look at him. He kissed the top of my head and sighed.
- “Didn’t we agree we were not to lie to each other?”
- “We did. But you don’t need to be so straightforward. That was painful.”- I murmured that last part, almost hiding my face in his chest.
- “I’m sorry ma cheriê”- my husband caressed my shoulder as I rolled in bed and laid by his side.- “I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I just wanna help.”
- “I know… shit, I don’t wanna be one of those crazy moms, living life through their babies' success and dreams.”
- “You won’t”- Spencer sighed and touched my nose softly with his index, making me feel like a little kid.
- “You just said so.”- I pouted and he smiled, kissing my lips carefully.
- “I did not. I just want you to be happy, chipmunk. And you can pretend all you want, but I know you have been sad these past couple of weeks. Not even Morgan’s visit cheered you up.”
- “He was here to comfort Pen, not me.”
- “Because you have me to comfort you.”- my husband cut me a smile and made a pause before he dropped the bomb.- “Also… I was talking with Blake today, and she said she could help.”
- “You asked her for help?”
- “She actually called you to ask for help, which was a happy coincidence, because I think you are gonna like what she needs.”
- “What is it? A profiler? Or a home baker? We still have some snickerdoodles left by the way.”
- “A professor.”- he explained with a sweet smile.- “Specifically, a linguistic professor teaching an undergraduate class in Georgetown.”
- “And she thought of you?”
- “Of you.”
My heart stopped when I heard Spencer saying those simple two words. Yes, I had thought about teaching, but somehow I had never considered it earnestly. Why? Impostor syndrome? Fear of failure? Self-doubt? All above I guess.
- “What?”- I whispered, thinking I had misheard.
- “Alex needed help to find a teacher for a psycholinguistics class, something that you actually like.”
- “I do.”
- “So she thought of you.”
- “Why didn’t she call me?”
- “She did, but you didn’t pick up ‘co you were putting Vinny to sleep, so I talked to her instead.”
- “Answering my phone calls, Spencer Walter Reid. I don’t know how I feel about it.”- I joked only because I didn’t know how to react to what I had just heard. That was a real job offer in a field I liked.
- “She said she is calling you tomorrow again, so you can pick up and ask all about it.”
Spencer was right, Alex called me the following morning and delivered her proposal in detail. One of her best friends in Georgetown needed help finding a teacher for an undergrad course in psychology, and she thought of me. It was just five hours a week for a semester, so it wouldn’t take much of my BAU time. I just needed to talk to Emily and make my schedule match. That was the hardest part.
I don’t know if Emily knew I was unhappy with the job, but she didn’t hesitate to approve my request. In fact, she suggested Spencer could do a similar thing, and give seminars for young agents at the academy.
- “I could make it work so you two spend more time at home with the kids, and help the team from Quantico”
- “Isn’t it a little selfish?”- I asked. We were alone in Prentiss’ office, which was still Hotch’s office in my head, and that made everything less official and more traumatic for me. Somehow it still felt like we were pretending to be the grownups while he was away.
- “I wouldn’t call it selfish if it helps you focus on work whenever you are on the field.”
Emily added and held her cup of coffee with both hands as she stared at me from the other side of her desk, filled with unfinished paperwork.
- “Oh stop it, Reid. I have known you for what seems like a lifetime. You have been unhappy since Aaron left. So please tell me, what is it? you don’t like me as your Unit Chief?”
- “What the fuck?”- the curses rolled off my tongue before I could actually realize what I was saying.
- “I mean it, you’ve been acting strange for the last couple of months. I understand you and Spencer have been through a lot, but this is clearly work-related.”
- “First of all, how dare you bring this up at work and not at a bar with a drink in our hands!”- I start arguing back.
- “This is work-related, (Y/N), and I am talking to you as your superior, not your friend.”
- “Second of all,”- I continued speaking, ignoring the scowl.- “I love having you here. I wanted you on this team way before Hotch left. You were the one who didn’t want to leave the Interpol.”
- “Then what is it?”- my friend was clearly losing her patience with me.
- “I just… don’t know.”- I simply confessed and didn't say another word. I just sighed and stared at my friend not knowing how to explain what was happening.
- “How can you not know what happens to you?”- it was a simple question, I guess.
- “I don’t know what it is. I thought it was caused by the stress of having Diana home and all the fights that brought to us, but it wasn’t. I thought I could blame Scratch, but he is only partially guilty of what is happening. Just as Cat, or any fucking unsub that I might think of.”
Emily stared at me, knowing better than to push me. I stood up and started pacing around the room. It took me a few minutes to finally say it out loud.
- “Sometimes I don’t know why I am still here.”
- “You are making a difference.”- Emily stood up and walked to me as soon as she heard me. I turned to her and raised an eyebrow.
- “Trust me, I keep telling myself that every day I show up. Every day I miss Raven’s swimming competition or school recital and when I miss any milestone in Vincent’s growth.”- I paused because I was about to start crying and I didn’t want to get emotional at work.- “Each time that even for a split second there is a chance Spencer or I might get hurt, making a difference is the only thing that keeps me here.”
- “(Y/N)…”- Emily hugged me ‘cos tears had started falling from my eyes.- “Why didn’t you tell me anything sooner?”
- “Sooner when? Things have been crazy here and you know it.” - she sighed and nodded as I wiped away the tears from my cheeks.
- “I know, and we haven’t had much time to talk either.”
- “That’s the thing with this job, we let time pass us by ‘cos we are always too busy to stop and analyze what is happening to us…”
Emily nodded as she stared at me, both her hands on my shoulders as she tried to reassure me things were going to be better somehow.
- “Teaching this class is gonna be good for you, Reid. You need to find your own path.”
I wanted to believe her. I was already tired of feeling like I was drifting and wasting my life.
Spencer’s point of view
The first class my wife taught, she was so nervous I wanted to sit at the back of the classroom to make sure she was ok. It didn’t help that that very same day, I had been caught with JJ in a bunker, as we tried to catch an unsub who kidnapped women, convinced them doomsday was coming, and kept them locked underground in a hidden bunker.
We both knew the team was right a few minutes away the second the door locked behind us. But they couldn’t reach us underground. There was no signal. I also knew my wife was not with them, because she was teaching her first class at five, and I had sworn I'd wait for her outside.
If I wasn’t there, as promised, she was going to get very scared… and very mad.
- “I can’t get through”- JJ announced the obvious, staring at her cell phone screen.
- “The doors are airtight and the glass is bomb-blast resistant. Our bullets would just bounce off.”- I explained as I knocked on the window, trying to find a way out. I couldn’t be locked with JJ in a bunker. Not that day, not ever.
- “Ok, uh, Garcia told everyone we were heading down here, so… wait, did you say airtight?”- I kept pacing around the room when Jennifer realized what I had just said. Meanwhile, I had already discarded eleven plans to get out of that space. - “Are we gonna run out of air?”
- “No, high carbon dioxide levels are gonna kill us before low oxygen levels do.”- I explained and tried to focus on another plan.
- “What about the keypad, Spence?”
- “On a zero to 9 keypad, assuming a 4-digit code, there are 10,000 possible combinations. If you figure 5 seconds to input each combination, that’ll be 13.89 hours and that is not even accounting finger fatigue.”
- “Right. So, even if we did try, after too many failed attempts, we would probably be locked in here anyway.”
- “(Y/N) is gonna kill me.”- I whispered and sighed, closing my eyes for a second.
- “Why?”
- “I promised I’d be there after her first class.”
- “I’m sure she’ll understand. She knows how this job is.”- JJ didn’t understand my wife’s relationship with the job at that minute, and I couldn’t blame her. (Y/N) didn’t want to share much about her personal crisis with the team. Only Prentiss and Garcia knew how she actually felt. And they were as supportive and understanding as I knew they would be.
- “Yeah, sure.”- I mumbled and kept looking for a way out.
- “Hey, is (Y/N) ok? We haven’t talked much lately. I don’t… I don’t know if she is mad at me or…”
But whatever JJ was about to say, I didn’t pay attention to, because two of the victims appeared at the other side of the glass, holding hostage a woman they claimed was the unsub’s partner. We were lucky enough to be out of that trap quickly, release all the victims, and catch the unsub and his partner. The team was right outside as we made it out of the bunker with the victims, and I was in an SUV in less than ten minutes.
I made it on time, barely. I ran to the classroom door and I was still catching my breath when the door opened and the students started walking out. It was a warm afternoon, the sun was just setting, and as I walked into that room, I found my wife closing her computer, and gathering all her things.
- “Excuse me, professor.”- I said as I walked closer and watched her face light up.
- “It’s Doctor, actually.”- she corrected as my lips curled up in a smile. I just felt so good to see her happy.
- “I’m sorry, Doctor Reid. I’ve always been very interested in learning more about linguistics and I was wondering if I could attend this class…”
- “Oh, I’m so sorry Mr…”
- “It’s Doctor, Doctor Reid.”- I corrected her with a smirk and she just nodded, playing along.
- “Oh I’m sorry, Doctor Reid, but this class is closed.”
- “No… really?”- I finally stood in front of her and placed my hands on her waist as she nodded and smiled back at me.
- “Really.”- her voice dropped an octave, sounding so sexy I started considering that bending her on that desk was a very good idea.
- “Is there a chance I can get a private lesson?”- I asked her and she giggled.
- “Are you really that passionate about linguistics?”
- “You have no idea.”- I whispered, pressing her body closer to mine and kissing her lips. I tried to be sweet and gentle, but I felt a hunger inside me, and I needed to feel my wife.
- “Not many people feel this way about linguistics.”- (Y/N) whispered and smiled as I rubbed my lips against hers and tugged her hair carefully not to hurt her, but hard enough for her to gasp and open her mouth, giving me all access.
- “Maybe I could audit your class…”- and my wife just nodded as I rested my forehead against her, as we tried our best to cool off a little.
- “Excuse… me…”- a student coughed from the door. - “Doctor Reid, I needed to…”
- “Yes, of course. I’m sorry.”- (Y/N) cleared her throat and moved away from me in a second. I smiled and took a step aside. It was so incredible watching her talking with a student, giving him notes from her lecture, talking about what he didn’t get. She was glowing, excited, and in her element. I hadn’t seen her that happy in a very long while.
So I made it my new goal: giving my wife the space to find what she wanted to do professionally, and which classes she wanted to teach. I never liked change before, and I was still struggling with it, but for her, I would do anything. For her, I would embrace change and roll with it. If it was what it took to make her that happy, I would do it gladly.
The first step was to speed up the process of moving from the apartment: I hated it, but I knew it needed to be done. I didn’t want to get out of there, but at the same time, I knew she wasn’t happy living in that apartment anymore. What happened with Cat Adams and Lindsey had affected her to the point of taking the joy from our flat. So we started looking for our own house. It wasn’t a quick process, trust me. It took almost a year to find the right house.
During that time, I started teaching a few seminars in the Academy, as Prentiss had suggested and my wife continued teaching her class in Georgetown. We started spending more time in Washington, which felt incredibly right. It was almost a year since our crisis, since my mother had stayed with us, bringing all the stress and fights, and I was, for once, enjoying life day by day.
Vinny was already two years and eight months old, and he was going through a bedtime crisis. He insisted he wasn’t tired and that he didn’t want to sleep. So every time, we had to come up with the craziest ways to get that kid weary for bed. We would dance, play, run, and tell the longest and most intricate bedtime stories. Most of the time, we struggled to stay away while trying to put him to bed. But somehow, it was the kind of struggle I didn’t mind having in my life. Not after dealing with serial killers.
We had a system and it was working. (Y/N) was a lot happier, and I was facing changes one day at a time. That was until the FBI's Assistant Director of National Security, Linda Barnes, put her eye on the BAU and decided to put us under investigation. She started by suspending Prentiss indefinitely, leaving JJ as temporary Unit Chief. It had been heartbreaking hearing Emily’s voice crack as she apologized for not being able to protect us from Barnes. We knew she meant serious trouble for us. She had dismantled Simmon’s former team, and she had her eye put on us. We knew what she was after: us. She wanted to end the BAu, or at least, end how it worked until that day.
The following day, after Prentiss gave us the news, things got even worse. (Y/N) was teaching a class early in the morning, so she missed the briefing. Which, I’ve always thought was a great thing because she would have snapped way more aggressively than I did when we all realized Barnes had picked the case for the team and planned on going to the field with us.
- “Meet you at the Tarmac.”- she announced as we all stood up from the table and stared at her lost.
- “You are going into the field with us?”- Tara asked her, not hiding her surprise and annoyance.
- “Yes.”- Linda replied coldly.
- “No offense, but you are not a profiler.”- Rossi pointed out, but Barnes didn’t seem to bother.
- “True, but I’ve worked on the field and a fresh set of eyes might be useful.”
She stared at us, probably waiting for any kind of reply, but no one said anything. I had to bite my lips ‘cos I was losing it second by second with her around.
- “I know you think I’m the enemy, but I am not. I can be your greatest advocate if you let me. Now, you’ve had some poor leadership in the past, but I know I can help right the ship.”
It was that last sentence that was the straw that broke the camel's back for me. I was not going to let that woman speak ill of Hotch or Prentiss.
- “No.”- I said as soon as she made a pause. - “You are wrong. Emily Prentiss is not a poor leader. She defined what a BAU chief should be. I am not gonna stand here and let you destroy her career like this. If you are going, I am not.”
And I didn’t even let her reply. I just stormed out of the conference room and walked back to my desk, I gathered my things and walked away from the BAU.
- “Spencer, oh my god. What did you do?”- Prentiss argued as soon as I finished telling my story. I didn't want to bother (Y/N) at work, so I did the only thing I could come up with: visit Emily at her house and try to help her return to the team.
- “I had to.”- that was my only explanation.
- “No, you didn't.”
- “Life's too short to deal with people like Linda Barnes.”- I knew that was something my wife would say, but after so many years together, I think there was a lot of her rubbing on my behavior. And I liked it.
- “Spence…”- Prentiss wanted to keep telling me off, but I wasn’t gonna let her. So I just continued talking
- “I wasn't gonna, you know, go with her and help her dismantle the team.”
Emily stared at me and rearranged her thoughts in silence for a moment. Then, she took a big step and stood in front of me, just next to her kitchen island.
- “Thank you for standing up for me. I appreciate you coming to the house for support, but what you did was reckless.”- and I rolled my eyes at her, as she started lecturing me again. - “The BAU is under the microscope right now, and the last thing you should be doing is giving Barnes more ammunition. You're making her job easier.”
- “Why are you trying to get rid of me?”- I frowned as I noticed she had started walking and moving closer to the front door one more time. She turned to me, looking caught, and pretended not to understand.
- “What?”
- “Ever since I got here, you've been trying to keep me out of…”- I took a look around and started wandering around the place. I wouldn’t usually do that, but Prentiss’ attitude was off.
- “No, I just, uh… no, I wasn't expecting anyone and the place…”
And just like that, I found what she was trying to hide.
- “Spence, stop!”
I jogged to her dining room and found a few boxes. She had started packing her things. Emily Prentiss was getting ready to fly away and leave us behind.
- “It's been less than two days and you're already leaving.”- I turned to face her, disappointed and angry.
- “I'm… I…”
Emily sighed as she tried to find the right way to explain what was going through her mind. Why would she just run away from trouble? That wasn’t like her.
- “Ok, look. Barnes wants somebody to take the fall for what happened in Roswell. I'm willing to be that somebody if it will help stabilize the BAU. You're in good hands with JJ.”
- “There's no guarantee that she won't replace her the minute you're gone.”- I argued immediately, but it wasn’t enough reason for her.
- “I think that if I go away for good, she'll leave you alone.”
- “You can still fight this. We can still fight this!”- but as I spoke those words, I could read on her face how the fire was dying inside of her.
- “Ah… Maybe I don't want to.”- and that answer was just as infuriating as discovering those boxes. Maybe even more.
- “Well, now who's making it easy for Barnes?”- I spat those words with anger as I frowned and stared into her eyes. I wanted her to see my disappointment.
- “You don’t get it, Spence.”- Emily said after a few minutes. She just walked around the apartment and started gathering more things to put in boxes and I sat on her couch, trying to find the right argument to change her mind.- “This is the right decision for me. I need you to support that.”
- “What's your plan? I mean, where are you gonna go?"- she had to be joking if she thought I was going to support her running away.
- “When I left Interpol, they said the door was always open to return. I like London. So…”- I looked at her in silence for a moment, as she kept putting books in boxes, driving me insane.
- “Well, if you really want me to support you, just answer me this one question.”- I finally said, standing up from her couch and looking at her. - “Why is it not ok for me to walk out on the team but it is for you?
- “Because you and I are different.”
- “We're not. And if the situation was reversed, you wouldn't give up on me. And you know what? I happen to know that for a fact because you didn't. When my mother was taken and I was losing my sanity, you did everything in your power to help my family.”
Emily stared at me and sighed. Clearly, I had hit a sensitive issue when I mentioned what happened with my mother.
- “What?”- I asked her as I scowled, confused.
- “Yeah. I did everything. I needed to make sure things worked their best for you, your family, and the team.”
- “And they did, all things considered.”- I replied, knowing nothing bad could come from that case, except the trauma me and my family were working to heal.
- “Including leaving out of the documents your trip to Mexico.”- Prentiss confessed and I wide opened my eyes, surprised.
- “Wh… what?”
- “When you went to Mexico to meet doctor Nadia Ramos, you used your personal passport. You should have used your work-issued one.”- Emily looked at me and held her breath for a second.- “I know you weren’t working, but you should have been briefed before leaving the country. That was a violation of security protocol. And I left it out of the case.” - her eyes watered up as she explained what had happened.
- “But… I didn’t do anything bad in Mexico.”- my voice was a whisper, and my friend nodded.
- “I know, Spence. But as an FBI agent, you are always a target, and you know it. You have to follow protocol before leaving the country. But I crossed a line I swore I never would. Barnes called me out on it. And that's when I realized she was right. I do hold this team above the very laws we are supposed to uphold. You made a mistake, but you didn’t do anything wrong, I did. That's why it's wrong for you to quit. But me, I've lost the privilege to run this team.”
I was speechless as I stared at my friend. I never knew she had done such a thing. I wouldn’t have let her do that. Just to think of all the things that could have gone wrong if I had gone more than that one time to Mexico still haunted me, and staring at my friend paying for a crime like that to keep me on the team made me feel incredibly lucky to have her, and immensely stupid for ruining things like that.
We fell into an awkward silence. I knew she didn’t want to talk, and I knew I was gonna have to push her, but I gave her a moment of quiet and peace as I arranged the facts in my head to convince her to stay. I wasn’t going to give up that easily.
- “Thank you.”- I whispered as I grabbed some books and files and put them in random boxes, as I pretended I was gonna help her move.
- “What?”
- “Thank you for covering for me.”
- “You're welcome.”- my friend looked at me and smiled
- “I'm not done.”- I added and she frowned as I continued talking. - “Thank you, but I didn't ask you to. Who knows? Maybe the bureau would have understood why I did it.”
- “Maybe. Now we'll never know.”- Emily replied and continued packing nonchalantly.
- “And that's exactly my point. You know, sometimes it's painful when you look back at your life and you realize how little choice you had in it. Right?”
Em paused her packing and looked at me with curiosity and some frustration.
- “Spence, if there's something you want to say, just say it.”
- “All I'm saying is that it's a lot like when JJ and Hotch faked your death so that you could escape from Ian Doyle.”- I knew I was hitting a nerve by bringing him into the conversation, but I needed her to see my point.- “You didn't have any choice in the matter, but it's what they had to do. They fought just as hard to save your life as you did to save mine. It's what we do."
- “It's… not like this."
- “It is. Do you want proof? Here are some examples. Michael Lee Peterson, Chad Higgins, Kathy and Jessica Evanson, Gloria Barker, and Declan Doyle. These are men, women, and children you've saved at the BAU, personally.”
- “But that's our job. Yours, mine, that's what we do. We save lives.”
- “And here are eight more that need it now. David Rossi, Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez, Matt Simmons, Tara Lewis… (Y/N) Reid and Spencer Reid.”
- “Stop.”
- “I don't think you understand. After Hotch left, the team could have imploded. It didn't because you were there. You were there to keep us together. We don't always have a choice in what happens to us, but you know what? Sometimes we do. And right now…”
I choked up because tears were threatening to roll down my cheeks, and I couldn’t speak, feeling my throat closing with emotion.
- “I'm just asking you to make the choice to stay and fight for us. You know, fight for the team. That's what we do. We fight for each other.”
Emily opened her mouth to argue, but she just shook her head and chuckled, tearing up.
- “Ok.”- that was all she said and I immediately stood up to hug her.
- “Let's call the team and get back to work. (Y/N) should be out of classes by now.”
- “I'm suspended.”- Emily announced, like that could ever stop us.
- “Well, I'm not. If you just so happen to hear what I say, then so be it.”
- “That rebel attitude is very (Y/N) of you, Spence.”
- “I know”- and I smiled proudly.
But, by the end of the day, Linda Barnes had gone behind the team and got the primary suspect dead. The team had solved the case, but someone had died. Rossi called us and invited us all for drinks. (Y/N) had joined us in Emily's apartment as soon as her class was over and I had updated her with everything that had happened that day.
- “I am out two mornings a week and I miss all the fun.”- she argued as I finished telling her how I stormed out of the conference room.
However, when we got to the bullpen, to pick up the team, Linda Barnes had saved us one more surprise.
- “Did I hear something about drinks?”- my wife said as she stood in front of Rossi and hugged him and Penelope at the same time.
- “Yes. And I am buying the first round.”- Luke added and (Y/N) raised her hand to give him a high five, but that was the second we all turned and saw Barnes standing there, in the middle of the office. Ruining our moment.
- “Agent Prentiss, Agent Reid, I'm happy to see you.”- her voice was cold as she nodded at us.- “Agent Jareau, I didn't get the opportunity to tell you how much I enjoyed your speech on the jet. But you're wrong that I'm here to shut down the BAU because I'm not. This unit is the crown jewel of behavioral profiling. I couldn't shut it down if I wanted to. But I can help restructure it.”
My blood ran cold as I heard those words. That woman wanted to destroy our department, and she was about to succeed.
- “The director watched the airport video, and he felt, as I did, that we were in public and your validation strategy was failing.”
- “You already met with him?”- JJ asked in shock, we knew she was waiting to talk to him and explain what had happened. But Barnes had, once again, gone behind her back to win.
- “Yes. I've known him for a long time. He answers my calls.”
- “I haven't even had a chance to file my report.”- Jennifer argued, but Barnes dismissed her words like she dismissed everything she didn't care for.
- “He agreed that events should have unfolded quicker, and because they didn't, the suspect died. Now we need to ensure that mistakes, like the ones you made today, never happen again.”
- “Mistakes we made?”- JJ questioned crossing her arms on her chest.
- “That said, Agent Prentiss, your suspension is lifted. You'll be reassigned within the Bureau. Your new post has yet to be determined.”
- “What?”
- “Agent Lewis, you will also be reassigned. Agent Reid, you will be a full-time professor with our exchange program. Agent (Y/L/N), your recent teaching career is taking off, the Bureau will be happy to help you find more classes to teach, along with your husband.”
- “It’s Doctor Reid, and who says that’s something I even want to do?”- my wife questioned her and I held her hand to stop her from talking any further.
- “It’s clear your head is not with the team anymore, agent.”- Barnes replied and didn’t give her time to say a word back.- “Agent Rossi, the FBI deeply appreciates your service, and the director wishes you nothing but the best in your retirement.”
Barnes made a pause and gave Rossi time to argue with her decision, but he didn’t say a word.
- “Agent Simmons, Agent Alvez, you will remain here at the BAU. Garcia, your loyalty to the team is appreciated, but it feels like a fresh start in a different department would be best.”
- “Fresh start? I don't want a fresh start. I need… I need to be here.”- Garcia was already crying as she spoke, but Barnes didn’t even answer her plea.
- “I'm fired, aren't I?”- JJ asked coldly.
- “No. You're the conditional unit chief of the BAU. Congratulations.”- Barnes’ words kept getting colder and colder as she spoke. She was, in fact, enjoying her revenge.
- “There's no such thing.”- Jennifer argued.
- “You're right. There wasn't. But I was able with the director's approval to create a new position just for you. I won't be going into the field with you anymore, but you will run every decision past me, big and small, before you act.”
Linda Barnes stared at us. None of us was able to say a word. We were shocked by her power and the promptness of her actions. She didn’t even give us time to fight back.
- “Good night.”- she cut us one evil smile and walked out of the bullpen.
- “This can't be the end. Can it?”- Garcia asked us, and we didn’t really know how to reply to that. So we stayed in silence, stunned.
(Y/N)’s point of view
Two weeks after Barnes decided to “reassign” most of the BAU members, we were all going insane and I was ready for revenge. One thing is wanting out of the team ‘cos I want to do what I love, and another thing is having some bureaucratic asshole telling me what to do, when to do it, and how.
I hated that bitch.
Do you wanna know what else I hated during those two weeks? All the students that were falling for my husband at the academy. Linda Barnes wasn’t joking when she said she was gonna help me get more classes to teach along with Spencer. She got me a whole linguistic course for young cadets at the academy. And the fact the course’s teacher was me, Doctor Reid, caused a lot of confusion among the female students.
- “Excuse me.”- one of them raised her hand during class.- “I was told this class was taught by Doctor Reid.”
- “Yes, that’s me.”- I explained with an innocent smile, not knowing what was about to happen.
- “As in… doctor Spencer Reid?”- she asked, confused.
- “Oh no, sorry. That’s my husband. It’s a common mistake, we both have PhDs. ”
- “He is… your husband? Spencer is married?”- I could see on her face ‘cos her heart was breaking.
- “Yes, been married for almost nine years now. I don’t know how that could be relevant for the class, but…”- I paused and noticed a few more girls in the auditorium were shocked.- “Anyone else took this class thinking it was my husband’s?”
Eleven more girls raised their hands.
- “You can leave if you want.”- I simply answered and tried not to shoot daggers at any of them. Frank always says I do that when I am mad. Spencer agrees, which makes it even more believable.
Two weeks and life was making me feel like I hadn’t been grateful for my job. Don’t get me wrong, I loved teaching, but there was something incredibly wrong about the way Barnes had pushed us away from the BAU. Garcia was in Cyber Crimes and she was going insane. Prentiss was with the OPR, hating every second of it, especially her teammate, a guy called James Odenkirk, who kept getting on her nerves. JJ kept Spencer informed about the BAU and the lack of cases the team had. Barnes kept JJ, Simmons, and Alvez on the bench, not authorizing any case work until they got one that would- and I quote - “Make the FBI look good.”
It was like she was trying to be hated. And succeeding.
When Prentiss called and invited me over for a ladies' night with Tara, I was in before I could even reply. I texted Spencer and asked if he could stay with the kid for a while. That was the only good side of that whole deal, being there with our babies every day. You could see how they loved having us there for bedtime stories, driving them to school, and cuddling.
- “Who knew there were so many dysfunctional partners in the Bureau?”- Tara chuckled as she told us her experience as a therapist for FBI partners in crisis. We stood on Emily’s balcony, holding a glass of red, trying to make sense of what was happening.
- “I'm learning the hard way. I had three stakeouts with Odenkirk last week.”
- “He sounds like such a charming bud.”- I teased and Emily rolled her eyes
- “Oh yeah, we know how much you love hanging out with him.”- Tara added as we both chuckled, like kids.
- “And it's one thing to be out in the field with him, but sitting with him in a car for hours on end. He smells like dirty tighty whities dipped in sweat.”- Emily’s description actually made him look worse word by word.
- “Gross!!”- I replied, disguised.
- “Barnes really knew how to punish you.”- Tara added with a short smile.- “I mean, sticking you with him. A not-so-subtle reference to what happens to agents who transgress.”
- “And there is no dirt on Barnes in the OPR database. She is squeaky clean.”- we both turned to Emily after her confession, shocked.
- “You pulled her file?”- Tara asked and sipped her wine.
- “I thought maybe we'd get lucky.”- Emily replied trying to look innocent. Which she wasn't at all.
- “I’m guessing that bitch knows how to hide her dirty laundry.”- I finished my glass and rested my elbow on the edge of Emily’s balcony. My friends stood by my side, mimicking my movement.
- “So what now?”- Tara asked
- “Refill?”- I replied and moved my empty glass. Em grabbed the bottle and filled our glasses, as she spoke.
- “I don't know what our next move is. I’m sorry girls.”
- “Well, we have got to think of something. I do not know how much more of this assignment I can take.”- Tara mumbled and I agreed.
- “Eleven students left my class today ‘cos they thought it was Spencer’s.”- I announced and kept my eyes on the horizon as I spoke.- “Eleven. That was half of my audience.”
- “What are you talking about? Why would they…”
- “Because I have a hot husband, Tara! I knew that, but I never thought these stupid students would drool so shamelessly for him! You should have seen their faces when I told them I am his wife.”
- “You told them? Why?”- Emily asked, nearly laughing at my face.
- “Because one of those brats interrupted my class asking if there was any kind of mistake, ‘cos she was expecting Dr. Reid.”- I explained and closed my eyes, mortified.
- “They interrupted you? To ask for Spencer?”- Tara was shocked.
- “Apparently my husband is the current eye candy of the department. His classes are full, but most of the attendees are auditing, just to look at him and drool.”- I finally confessed to someone what had been tormenting me that week.
- “Does he know? What has he said about it?”
- “He has no idea!”- I argued and took another sip of wine.- “He is just so happy people are interested in his classes, I don’t have the heart to tell him.”
- “Then don’t.”- Emily suggested. - “The kid is enjoying teaching, sometimes I feel that’s what he was born to do. I wouldn’t want to spoil it for him just because a bunch of girls are drooling over him. You know they are harmless. Spencer would never cheat on you.”
- “Prentiss has a point, Reid is crazy for you and the kids. He would never jeopardize that for anything in the world.”
I nodded and looked at my friends. Having them around meant the world. I missed working with them and hanging out with them daily.
The next day, I was preparing for my following class when Luke called. He asked us to meet at Prentiss’ for a case. Apparently, JJ didn’t get permission to take a case, and we were going to go behind Barnes’ back and investigate it anyway. Sounded like my team, and my kind of plan.
Spencer showed up in my class and stood by the door as I gathered my things. He didn’t have to say a thing, I knew he knew. He was beaming with excitement. Of course, my husband missed the BAU. He was born to catch unsubs, solve cases, and save the day. He has always been a hero.
- “Thank you, all of you, for coming. I've missed this, us.”- Emily said as the entire gang sat in her living room to investigate a case without formal authorization.
- “We met yesterday for drinks, Em.”- I teased her and she just chuckled.
- “I meant work, Reid. And be serious, before we do this, I need to be sure everyone understands what we're getting into. We have been told not to investigate this case. If we do, we are violating direct orders, and eventually, Barnes will find out. So, if something goes wrong or we don't catch this unsub, she will shut down the BAU and most likely fire all of us. No more reassignments.”
- “You know what?”- JJ said, looking incredibly fed up with anything Barnes’ related- “Even if everything does go right and we do catch our unsub, I mean, the same thing could happen.”
- “Right. Barnes would try to spin it, labeling the BAU a rogue unit that needs to be shut down.”- Simmons knew what he was talking about.
- “Right. So if anyone has doubts, no shame, no judgment.”- Emily said and looked at us, waiting for a reaction. Like any of us would walk away from a case.
- “The BAU started in a room just like this one. If this is how it goes out, so be it.”- Rossi sounded defeated already. So I had to tease him a little, just to make him smile.
- “All right Coronell Cannelloni, no need to get sentimental.”- and he turned to me with a warm grin.
- “We're all in?”- Spencer asked and the entire team nodded. I held his hand, knowing that was something he wanted to do, work with our friends, solve the case, catch the bad guys. And most of all, kick Linda Barnes’ ass.
But, it turned out Prentiss’ warning wasn’t a bluff. Only 24 hours later, JJ was forced to turn over her baggage and her gun, after asking Barnes to open the file of an investigation she had closed a few years before. However, that wasn’t going to stop us. If anything, it made us crack the case, and work harder, even from the shadows.
JJ kept working, and Penelope, from Cyber Crimes, managed to get us the crime scene pictures without getting us caught.
Rossi might have mentioned earlier that day the charm of doing the right thing, even in the wrong way. It felt so fucking good when we got the unsub. I still wish I had been there to look at Barnes’ face when the team caught the psycho and saved the senator’s daughter he had kidnapped. And not only that but Emily told the senator himself that Barnes had fired JJ for trying to solve the case. That woman didn’t stand a chance. She was out before we knew it.
- “I couldn’t wait until morning!!”- Garcia beamed as she walked into the bullpen, holding a box filled with all the toys she keeps on her desk.
- “You weren't the only one.”- JJ said as Luke quickly moved and grabbed Garcia’s box. I stared at that sweet acting coming from a couple that barely seemed to get along, and I realized those two had some angry sex coming their way. If only Luke didn’t have a girlfriend.
- “You look great.”- my husband said to Penelope and she nearly jumped in excitement.
- “I feel great. You guys really did it!”
- “Ohh, I wish I could have been there to see Barnes' face when the senator showed up.”- Tara whined and I joined her immediately.
- “Me too!! Was she fuming from her ears? Did she send daggers from her eyes? I need a full description of the scene, please!”- I begged from my desk as I finished setting the family pictures I had kept there for years.
- “I thought she was gonna melt like the wicked witch of the west when he said Prentiss could hire whoever she wanted.”- Simmons described and we all chuckled at the thought.
- “You think she'll back off for good?”- Luke asked, and we all turned to Prentiss, who stood with Rossi at the top of the stairs outside her office.
- “The director called me.”- she started.- “He said Barnes was told to keep her hands off the BAU.
- “And so, we live to fight another day. Ladies and gentlemen, we're back!”
We all cheered and lifted our cups of coffee. It felt good to be back at the BAU, with my family. Though I wanted to keep teaching at Georgetown, I wasn’t ready to fully leave my friends. Especially knowing how much Spencer loved being there. 
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Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist
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sansofhumor · 2 years ago
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this can’t be autobiographical because i cant incinerate my bed when im having insomnia.
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thatuselesshuman · 20 days ago
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If i had a YouTube wrapped it go something like:
You watched: Fall Asleep in Less Than 3 Minutes ★ Healing of Stress, Anxiety and Depression ★ MELATONIN RELEASE 238 times! You are in the top 0.2% of viewers
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gutsby · 4 months ago
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Make It Stick
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Pairing: Old!Joel x Reader
Summary: Joel never thought he’d need a vasectomy. Then, one night, he accidentally finishes inside you.
Warnings: 18+. Unprotected-peepaw-p-in-v (I’m sorry). Accidental creampie. Age gap. Cumplay. Breeding kink. Ovulation has led me places I wouldn’t go with a gun.
Note: Convergence is a painting by Jackson Pollock. We studied it in high school and I thought it looked like jizz idk
Word count: 4.7k
Prequel | Part 1 | Part 2
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He should’ve gotten snipped when he had the chance.
Should’ve taken the plunge, faced his fears of needles and fluorescent-washed doctor’s offices like any man his age could have done and gotten the damn vasectomy. Now he was here, nearly two decades older and still none the wiser in this cold, dead world with a pretty young thing like you between his sheets. In lieu of elective surgery, Joel Miller had only to grit his teeth, bite hard, and repeat over and over again in his head, desperate:
‘Don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, DON’T—’
Words like those normally worked. With women that weren’t you, they tended to serve him exceedingly well.
But you were just so tight. And wet. And welcoming. And try as Joel might to pretend like he got laid on a regular basis, the truth was that he didn’t. Wouldn’t. Couldn’t seem to think straight when it came to this fixation he’d developed for you, so, instead, he let his dick do all the decision-making whenever he found himself around you. Ten times out of ten that ended in:
“J-J-Joel—oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck—I’m gonna CUM.”
And that made it worth every last life-endangering drop.
Feeling how your flushed, lithe body came apart beneath his touch. How you needed him. How your eyes grew to half the size of your face and you gaped up at the man, lips parted, like you couldn’t even comprehend how the friction of seven inches could make you feel so good.
If he had it his way, he would’ve loved nothing more than to show you that feeling every night, and twice the next morning if his hip wasn’t giving him too much trouble.
But, at present, the man had bigger fish to fry. Like not becoming a new father at fifty-nine if he could help it.
With the last two fluttering pulses of your heat, and almost going cross-eyed from the pleasure as he felt it, Joel yanked his big, slippery cock out of your body and made a fist around his member as he always knew to do. Tugged and pulled and grunted above you—‘Sweet girl, you’re so fuckin’ good to me’—and watched your tits and your belly for the milky white ropes to ensue.
Strangely, though, your skin stayed the same.
No cum-spray Convergence appeared before him, no opaque and cloudy fluids dribbling down your ribs, nothing. Your stomach was as bare as the rest of you, save for a few beads of sweat, and that was all there was.
Joel shook his dick harder, confused. Beneath him, you were still coming down from your high smiling ear-to-ear and staring blissfully at the ceiling. Your chest rose and fell, rose and fell in quick succession, and while you endeavored to recollect your mind, Joel was losing his.
Where the FUCK was his cum?
In no naked horizontal tango to date had Joel simply…cum without noticing. Shit like that just didn’t happen to men, least of all to ones his age, so when he’d wrung his poor cock like a sodden towel and still saw nothing come out, he felt his stomach turn and plummet inside him.
He dropped to his hands and knees in less than a moment and lowered his head between your legs.
“No, Joel!” you squealed, giggling. Kicking your feet, “Another round and I’m gonna combust, you old perv!”
But Joel wasn’t looking to get his dick wet again. He was inspecting you. Or trying to, anyway. Quickly realizing he couldn’t see a thing in the darkness, he let out a breath through his nose and lifted you off the bed. Your naked frame thrown over his shoulder, bare hip beside his head and your strangled, muffled cry of, ‘What the hell, Joel?!’ hardly seemed to register with the man carrying you off.
You were toted to the bathroom. Joel was about to ease you down on your feet. Then, appearing to change his mind at the last second, he set you onto the sink instead. Your skin bristled with indignation, anger. A little arousal.
“Last time we did it on a sink we broke the faucet,” you reminded him, feigning more dismay than you really felt inside. If anything, you liked it when your fossil-age fuckbuddy switched things up. You were just exhausted.
Heedless of your words, Joel kneeled on the floor and pried your legs apart before him. When you swatted at his silver-flecked head, he brushed your hand away.
“Hold still,” he grunted.
“How come?”
“‘Cause I said.”
How quickly he commanded that tone of a father.
“Wanna sleep,” you groaned, about to roll your eyes.
But you couldn’t deny you liked being doted on by him.
Joel’s touch was gentle. Probing. Spidering down the most sensitive parts of your bare lower half, between your thighs, and slowly coaxing you closer to the edge of the sink. Your breath hitched when you saw his head tilt.
He appeared to be deep in thought—a rare sight for anyone who’d seen Joel Miller in the postcoital state. Most every time he’d blown his load before, the man was dead asleep within ten minutes. His joints could barely hold himself upright after a half hour of plowing the back forty, much less carry you, too, so you were puzzled now.
He thumbed at the seam of your cunt, and you whined:
“Jo-el—”
“Can ya…push, baby?” His eyes flitted up quickly.
“Push?”
“Yeah, just…” With a look you couldn’t quite read, he placed the palm of his other hand on your belly. Then, pressing, “Like this. Like you’re squeezin’ somethin’ out.”
You cocked a brow in muted confusion but did as he asked. You watched his gaze, and it stayed on you.
Or, rather, on that soft and pliant spot between your legs the old man seemed to favor so much. On any other occasion, in a position like this, he surely would’ve been wearing a smile. Tonight, his lips curled into a grimace.
And twisted even further when you ‘pushed’ like you did.
At first you felt nothing. A gentle clench of your walls supplied little more than a sense of having been stretched—no novel concept to you, who’d spent the last three-and-a-half months or so getting fucked by the finest AARP affiliate alive most every night. It wasn’t until you clamped down again that you got the feeling there was something else. Something thick and warm and slow as molasses trickling out from between your folds.
You let out a low, tender, ‘Mmph’ without meaning to; it felt kind of nice. Beneath you, Joel’s face turned grave.
He watched as his spend oozed out of your freshly-fucked hole and thought of vasectomies again.
You were young—too young to know better. Too sweet and naïve to see any peril in spreading your legs for a man like him, in a world like this. And Joel swore he’d be careful. But no post-apocalyptic birth control method was perfect, or even close to it, and it was clear he’d relied too heavily on reflexes to keep him from cumming inside you. Joel was old—too old to be doing this shit.
Too grown and well-versed in sex to be making mistakes as stupid as that. His brow pinched in, and he drew his next breath as if the air around him was growing scarce.
“Joel, what’s—”
“When’s the last time you— you— uh…bled?”
Hardly more in control of his face than the rate his heart went thudding in his chest, Joel winced at the end. This time, you were the one to knit your eyebrows together. You could tell by that tight, discomfited tone he wasn’t talking papercuts, but were still unsure of his purpose.
“Like two, two and a half weeks ago. Why?”
Well, fuck.
Joel buried his face in his hands. You scooted closer to the sink’s edge, thinking little of his cum leaking out.
“Why?” you tried again. Softer this time.
An old, weathered head lifted to greet you. It was bleak.
“You see this?” Joel paused. Swiping his finger through the viscous white substance that had trickled out on the counter, in a puddle now, “Y’know what it means, right?”
You let his look, and the question, remain suspended in air for a second. Then another. Then you shrugged.
“Yeah. But…you’re old,” came your answer at length.
You’re old.
Joel and you both knew as much, but the former wasn’t quite following your train of thought. Still wanting to try and mitigate damages while he could, though, Joel reached for the roll of toilet paper that was fastened to the wall and tore himself a strip. He bunched it up and, reaching for one of your knees to spread you further for him, took to daubing the tissue across your entrance.
“What’s me bein’ old got to do with anything?” A little sharp, then, seeing you flinch when he drew too close to your clit, “‘m sorry, baby, just— gotta get this out of you.”
You made a face but let him continue anyway. Your eyes followed each movement of his hand, and reflexively, the muscles in your thighs tightened. Why bother with this when the man has so many better uses for his hands?
For a second, your eyes fluttered half-shut.
“Maria says old folks are, uh…infertile. Got something to do with a middle pause,” you said, breaths labored.
Joel stopped just long enough to shoot you a look.
“Menopause,” he corrected, all too matter-of-fact, before returning to his work, “is a woman thing.”
What the hell were they teaching in Jackson’s sex ed classes, anyway? Then Joel remembered how his brother sincerely believed that women peed out of their vaginas until he was twenty-three, and the thought of you not knowing the ins and outs of male virility wasn’t the most far-fetched idea in the universe. Besides, sexual health wasn’t exactly the community’s highest priority when the world around it was in a perpetual state of decay and hordes of fungus-faced fuckers ran rampant in the wild.
He curved a tender, careful finger against the ring of muscles framing your sex, trying to absorb more cum, and your grip on the edge of the countertop tightened.
“S-So, you—” You swallowed, throat constricting a little too, “You’re sayin’…men can make babies…whenever?”
You sounded so innocent as you said it. Joel wanted nothing more than to club himself over the head for being the cause of this predicament—of being such an instrumental part of the perceived corruption, as it was.
Meanwhile, your head was swimming in filthier thoughts.
Deeper, Joel, keep…pushing in…dee-e-per. You would have scarcely had more luck giving a fuck what Joel was talking about now than if he’d just said the room was on fire. By his voice, you knew you should’ve been paying attention, but the dexterity of his fingers was too much. He was caressing the first couple inches of your inner walls, attempting to scrape what bits of his release he could get unstuck from the flesh, but it seemed he was succeeding mostly in just turning you on. Rendering you deaf to the drone of his words as you pictured him pushing something else inside your tight, throbbing—
“—whole lotta problems for us if you’re, uh…ovulating,” Joel finished, expression taut and oblivious. You hadn’t heard the first part of that sentence and didn’t care to.
“Ovulating,” you repeated slowly. Indifferent.
Joel carried on without a hitch.
“Kids just ain’t fit for this world. I know you know that.”
You nodded along, not hearing a word.
“And if you’re— if y’ever did consider, maybe…”
Your lungs took an extra sharp inhale when Joel’s fingers coaxed out a warm, sticky glob of his load, and he petted your folds with his thumb. Then let out a breath himself.
“…y’oughta start a family with someone your own age—”
That part snagged your attention. Too swiftly, it came:
“My own age?”
Sighing, in spite of those welts of pleasure so heightened by his touch that the space between your legs began to throb and ache. Hardly possessed of more sense to form words that weren’t just echoes of his own, you tried communication from a simpler source—your foot.
You nudged his shoulder, and Joel looked up.
“What?”
“What?”
Parroting was, evidently, a hard habit to kill. Your toes curled into the bare skin of Joel’s shoulder, and when he re-inserted his finger, you ground your heel even deeper.
“When’s that ev…ever stopped us from doing it before, hm?” you said, tone strained but laced with some humor too, “Thought you liked sayin’ you’d make me a mama.”
Joel’s face flooded pink at the recollection—as a matter of fact, there had been several such memories. Instead of answering immediately, he just averted his gaze again. He anchored one hand to your thigh, and with the other teased out another string of your shared arousal before wiping his finger on the tissue, clinically, and repeating. All he had to offer in reply after was: ‘That’s different.’
And it was, to some extent. Joel wasn’t blind to the sea of uneasy looks that trailed behind you both whenever you walked the streets of Jackson together. How wide the eyes would get when instead of observing some filial display of affection play out before them, as expected, you’d loop your arms around his waist and take his lip between your teeth as you kissed—‘Can we please go home now, baby?’—that Joel was certain he’d been cemented as the resident pervert among everyone in town. Just how much worse that reputation was liable to get if there ever happened to be a round and swollen belly between that embrace someday was unthinkable. Dirty talk was one thing; parenthood another entirely.
This is for the best, became the low, grating refrain in his skull. Why he dug so hard, pushed so far inside the wet, velvety interior of your body without a thought for his own desires in that moment; he had to cull every trace of himself out of there, before he had half a chance to think.
“Baby, hey, hey, no—” Joel cut in a second later, abrupt.
No, no, no. You weren’t thinking either. Wrapping your hand around his wrist, pushing his fingers deeper inside.
Smiling a little, too.
“What are you— no, honey, don’t— you can’t,” Joel’s words splintered in every direction, watching you plunge his own index and middle fingers into the slick and the warmth he’d just been trying to get his cum out of. He looked up and saw your lids were heavy, about to close.
“What are you doin’? This ain’t…no, baby, it ain’t…safe.”
Back to sounding like a dad in no time at all.
“What’s wrong with leaving it in a bit longer? Feels nice.”
You had no idea what you were talking about. Joel pulled back on his hand and, in less than a second, had it freed.
“I just told you,” he huffed, “You’re too young—”
“I’m plenty old, Joel,” you returned, eyes snapping open, “You’ve shown me that more times than I can count.”
Joel was silent, stunned. He rose to his feet as your eyes seared holes into his, and for a second, he was uncertain whether to take a step back or reach out for you again.
“Baby…”
To his surprise, something like hurt surfaced behind your eyes. You set your lips in a tighter line, and your grip on the counter grew firmer just the same. He would’ve taken that move as his cue to lean in gently, slot his body between your thighs, and venture an apology of some sort, when the next thing you did stopped him cold.
Without a word, you slipped your free hand between your legs—eyeing Joel closely, almost scornfully, as you did.
You took your middle and ring fingers and sank them into your cunt. Not intending to let a drop of his spend leak out, you wedged them in as far as they’d go. Joel watched. Gawked. Once sufficiently pleased with the look of shock taking over his handsome, aged features, you withdrew the fingers. You brought them up to your mouth, wrapped your lips around the tips, and sucked.
It was a rare thing to get a taste of you and Joel together like this, so you savored it. You moved your mouth further down to drink it all in, peering up with wide, indulgent eyes and a look that was meant to punish.
Feels nice.
Tastes alright, too.
You’d licked the last bit of this glaze off your hand when your stomach clenched. You knew it would happen. Full as you were, you feared your body still hungered for more. As such, it hardly came as a surprise when next your muscles tensed, and you shifted closer to Joel.
“Maybe I don’t want babies with someone my own age.”
Either one of your knees were nudging his hips. Drawing him in. Joel appeared to waver for a second, unsure, but the look on his face made it clear this was mostly a matter of a delayed reaction. He couldn’t get his legs to move because the rest of him was still in awe. Staring at your lips, where the residue of his spend was glistening, then to your eyes, which were no less inviting, then up to the crown of your head and over it, to fix his stare on the mirror behind it. You watched him watch his own reflection with a look that was both hard and unkind, breathing slow. When he didn’t stir from that position after a minute, you touched a hand to his lower stomach.
And, brushing the heel of your palm against what felt like a hundred grey hairs in the old man’s happy trail—your favorite ones—you smoothed a caress along his belly, back and forth, before moving it left. Your hand came to rest on a mound of muscle and fat sitting right above his hip. Love handles, Joel had remarked one morning with vague distaste. Love handles, you’d repeated, beaming. You held on tightly now, appreciatively, and used your well-loved wall of flesh to pull him closer. As with any beckoning of yours, Joel didn’t have so much as half a mind to resist. He did, however, refuse to meet your gaze while you tilted your hips and spread your legs wider, before winding your ankles around the backs of his legs.
“Don’t you think I’d look pretty?” You pouted up at him. Your folds made a light, warm suction rubbing along the front of Joel’s cock—of course he’d grown hard again, and you could hold him, point him down to that wet embrace awaiting him patiently at the edge of the sink.
Joel cursed under his breath.
“‘Course I do…” he said, voice hoarse, “Y’always look—”
“I mean…with your baby inside me, Joel. Right here.”
As if to put a finer point on your words, you nestled the head of his cock inside the first inch of your body. Joel had to seize the laminate underneath you and grit his teeth to keep from letting out a groan too loud. That tip may as well have been a first-rate conductor of heat, and your warmth the thing that might send him spilling again
“You don’t—” Joel choked out, nearly incensed, “—don’t know what the hell you’re sayin’, baby. What that means.”
In truth, there wasn’t a world Joel Miller could imagine where a girl like you could give more than a passing thought to getting knocked up by him—a man his age. What good would it do? You had your whole life laid out before you like a four-course dinner spread; there was no sense whatsoever in letting the meal go to waste on him.
He communicated as much by moving to pull out.
You met the effort with a push of your own, sinking down another inch or two on his shaft and smiling when you saw his eyes roll back in his head at the dizzying friction.
“I know more than enough, old man—” Grin stretching ear-to-ear as you dug your heels in his ass and tugged him deeper, “—who do you think taught me all this?”
Of course, it had been Joel.
Always, always him—the only one, in fact.
Your walls drew him in like a hug. For once, Joel conjured up the strength to take a look between your lower half and his, and when he did, the next moan was inevitable. It trickled through his lips. Your body looked sublime swallowing a third of his cock, and it was almost as though a maggot had crawled into his brain, chanting:
‘Make her full. Make her yours. Tell any man who’d even think of looking her way she belongs to someone else.’
He couldn’t.
Joel would never be so selfish. Just think of her youth.
But when his gaze drifted back to yours, every thought and any word besides seemed gently to melt away. Beneath him, your eyes were two pools of desire.
“You like this…don’t you, Joel?” Your voice was tiny.
“I do.”
In fact, he loved it.
“Then why can’t we?” Why shouldn’t we?
Minuscule now, the words that reached him barely exceeded a whisper. It was as though the moment itself had drained all fear from your face—and out of Joel, all common sense from his brain—leaving you both to stare at the other with shared, stupid, anoetic looks of bliss. The man who had you beat by thirty-odd years seemed nearly of the same mind, with almost identical ignorance.
Idiocy.
“Just once?” Joel croaked.
Somewhere underneath, unseen, you smiled.
“Just one?” you murmured back.
He sank in another inch. When your walls contracted around him, Joel’s hands found your hips by force of habit and pushed your back against the glass behind it. The mirror was cool, and inside you, Joel was throbbing.
“Once,” he repeated, not thinking too deeply.
“One,” you said, with a world of more purpose.
Joel relinquished the last three inches, and with it, all of his resolve. The handsome, scarred, and plainly greying features all twisted as one, and the expression that you knew too well to mean that the man was feeling good took on the slightest hint of guilt. He gripped you tighter.
“One?” Joel panted. Confused.
He pulled out halfway just to find his home again. Your pearly slick mixed together with his spend, and both coated over Joel’s shaft in a pretty, generous sheen.
“One more of you, I mean.” You sounded too sweet. There was no way in hell you’d actually meant it.
Joel’s cheeks flushed again, but he didn’t stop, either.
“Baby…” he trailed off instead. He pushed in, pulled out, felt your tender little hole make an ‘o’ around his shaft, and then he kissed the edge of your left cheek—maybe to rein in the need in his words before he spoke again: “One’a me takes and I’m givin’ ya fifteen more, y’hear?”
The smile he received told him as much as he needed to hear. He probably wouldn’t have believed it even if you’d said the words yourself. Joel’s thrusts sped up, and as the pleasure distended in the pit of his stomach with the friction and the feel, his words flowed a little more freely.
In disbelief, “Wanna be a mama that bad for me, huh?”
Your grin grew bigger. You nodded your head.
“Make your old man a daddy, is that it?”
Exactly. Senseless as it was, your look said it all.
To have slipped between the grooves and ridges of Joel’s brain and caught wind of even a fraction of the things he wanted to do to you then, a smarter girl would have run. Would have shoved him back out as swiftly as she’d let him in and told him no, that’s gross, and gone home. And, had the grey matter floating inside your own skull not been so completely dominated by primal need and wanting, that’s likely what you would have done, too. Instead, with a head full of lewd, youthful stupidity, you seized the black-grey curls dangling at the nape of his neck and drew him closer. You spread your legs wider.
“That is what you’ve wanted this whole time, right?”
Under his scruff, a muscle tensed as Joel bit down.
That’s all he’s ever wanted.
Let the neighbors talk.
Let them say what they wanted to say—it was probably all true to the point they were trying to make, anyway. That Joel was a pervert, of course. That you were naïve, also true. That you would look too good not to stare in a white cotton frock with a bump underneath, absolutely. These were the ideas permeating your brain and his while Joel took a firmer hold of your sides and brought his nose to rest against yours. With every stab of his hips, he pressed kisses to your soft, parted lips, speaking low:
“That what you want, too, darlin’?” More serious now.
The head of his cock nicked a sensitive ridge inside you, eliciting a whimper, but you nodded. You nodded again, feeling the brush of his stubble at your mouth and your chin, and nodded again when he bottomed out, stuffing you tight. It felt a little more momentous than any other time in the past, now that you were picturing a fullness that wasn’t just him. Him and you: a concrete being to soothe the sting of his absence long after Joel withdrew.
Something to stick.
“Please say it, baby.”
Someone to call yours.
“I want it,” you said, sounding desperate.
A coil was just starting to form in the place you felt him. Drifting up, pulling tight, making your eyes go glossy and wide while they stuck to Joel’s and begged him for more.
“Want what?” He sped up, and his thrusts got sloppy.
“Want you,” you breathed, “Inside me, Joel, please.”
As if predicting your next thoughts, the man lowered his hand to your belly. You hadn’t even noticed the smallest bulge had taken shape beneath the skin. Joel slowed, momentarily, then rubbed the base of his palm against the mound where your body was obliged to make room for his cock inside you. He drew soft, tender circles there and, with the motion, sent stars flying before your eyes.
“Good girl,” he murmured, “Right here?”
“Ri— right there. Right there.”
Joel adored that sound. The soft, elated look, the gentle knoll of flesh in a bump below his hand, the whimpers rolling off your tongue repeatedly, quicker and quicker the more the pleasure inside you continued to build. Joel’s release was coming soon, too. For the hundredth time that night, he silently wished he were a little younger; so he could fill you up once, twice, twenty more times until your insides were stuffed and painted white. As if reading his mind, as he had for you, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.
“Hope our baby has your eyes,” you murmured to him.
It shouldn’t have had such a strong effect—but of course, it did. Joel pictured the small, sweet infant with irises that shone a bit like his, and his stomach caved in.
Tonight, tomorrow, or ten months down the line, he was getting you pregnant. He’d clear his whole schedule for it
“That right?” And now he couldn’t stop the smile as he spoke, leaning even further in, “What about their nose?”
He kissed the tip of yours.
“Hope they get this.”
He kissed either one of your cheeks.
“These too.”
You had to fight back a laugh while his scruff tickled skin. Two deep strokes away from the brink of release and he still somehow always stayed in tune with your needs.
The threat of your peak was perilously near. Joel’s spend and your slick, tender glaze made a chorus of sounds at each thrust, and the deeper he went, the bigger it swelled. Your smiles couldn’t stay for much longer when the feeling inside you both was being amplified like that. Sensing this, Joel took hold of your face and slipped his touch to cup your chin. He made you tilt your head up to him, as if to ask again, ‘Are you sure?’ and when you nodded, his lips twitched again. A fleeting hint of a grin, like he couldn’t be more eager to finish now if he tried.
Holding your face, cock swollen and throbbing and desperate between your walls, he felt a familiar twitch.
There it is.
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itsoutrageouss · 27 days ago
Text
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley being ready to go on his knees for his favorite nurse… but he has no idea how to show it.
Then he sees you at the pub.
It settled inside of him as a feeling of uselessness because he’s so used to knowing what to do. He takes action. He fixes things. And now he gets all flustered when you tend to his wounds, absentmindedly stroking his thigh and talking to him so so sweetly. Calling him a good boy when you finish the stitches, biting your lip as you focused on making them as neat as you could for him. He would stare at you the whole time, his cheeks heating because no one ever showed him this much care and you didn’t even seem to struggle with it- it was all natural.
You had labelled him ‘favorite patient’ in your phone but he didn’t know that. He figured you behaved like that with all the soldiers who came in- the reason you were such a good nurse.
After a well succeeded mission, the task force and the bases Staff all crowd down to the nearest pub. It was an excuse for you to finally be out of your work attire, adorning a black lacy top that made you feel sexy along with your glossy lips. He was already there, leaned back in a booth with Soap and Price as you walk in, looking around nervously.
He has to grit his teeth as he sees you. Fuck fuck fuck. This was gonna be a long night. He fisted his hands beneath the table.
This feeling of hopelessness, of not knowing what to do was so foreign that it bubbled into anger. Price frowned, noticing the rigid way his Lieutenant suddenly sat. Soap was too busy telling some story to notice anything, slamming down a hand, the beers rattling. Your colleagues crowded you into a booth that so conveniently faced him.
Why did he look at you like that? He was positively fuming, glowering, brows lowered and face set. You cowered under his gaze, eyes flickering away nervously.
His lips parted in soft surprise. Why did you look so nervous? Had he done something?
Because of course he was no clue how damn intimidating his so called love stare stare is. He follows you as you walk to the bar, leaning over, your skirt riding up. He has to blink up at the ceiling because it felt simultaneously like a gift from above, being allowed to see you like this, and like a curse from hell.
“Oh he’s down bad for her ain’t he, that fucker?” Soap exclaims, finally catching on as he lets out a hearty laugh. Simon glares.
“I think LT needs another pint” Price muses. Soap, ever the sergent he is, groans and gets up, patting Simon heavily on the shoulder before walking up to the bar next to you.
“You got him weak in the knees, Bunny” Soap grins casually, ordering the pints. It takes you a few seconds to comprehend before you lean backwards slightly, catching Simon’s gaze. This time he averts his eyes immediately. He was fucking fuming inside, not knowing how to get these feelings to go away. The only solutions he could think of were violence or sex. And violence he’s had enough of- and he’s sure the training dummies had too. Every damn night these past days he’s been punching his knuckles bloody, hoping it would satiate his restlessness. It didn’t.
And as for sex… he didn’t- well he didn’t not want that but that’s not where he wanted to start. He always threw himself into hookups or fiery flings that burned out too quickly, leaving embers he didn’t care for. He didn’t want that with you. He wanted to be genuine, slow, proper. And he had no idea how. He didn’t like not being good at things.
Your eyes stay on him, forcing his head to turn back to you. Your expression is unreadable, his fingers curling beneath the table before he rapidly stands up. You almost jolt at the action, the floor creaking from his weight as he stalks over to you and Soap, grumbling something.
Soap leaves, Simon trying to casually lean his elbows on the bar. “Just gonna wait for the pints” he tells you, then his jaw ticks because why did he say that? You probably don’t give a fuck what he’s doing there.
You smile softly, intrigued. “How’s your shoulder?”
It startled him, his head whipping to yours like you said something totally out of sorts. His shoulder? Right— It takes him way too long to answer.
“Fine. You did a good job. As always,” he said gruffly, looking down at the chipped wood of the bar, drumming his fingers impatiently.
“You look good.” The words slip past his lips, eyes quickly giving you a once over.
“I know.” He looks at you, sees a small glint in your eyes and the smile you smother. He wants to groan out loud at the sight.
A dry, almost laugh escapes him, shaking his head softly. “F’course you do.”
There’s a long, awkward silence where you both look anywhere but at each other, spines straightening, then slumping, then you both look at the bartender to keep busy.
He places your drink in front of you, three pints clattering in front of Simon. Neither of you move to take them.
“So I’m gonna go” Simon rumbles and turns, the pints clutched in his hands. He was overheating, fumbling in ever possible way he could and he couldn’t take it. You opened your mouth but he was already halfway across the room.
The pints rattle as he sits down. “So?” Soap asks as he leans forward. Simon grumbled that this isn fucking high school. But it’s not Soap he’s mad at. It’s himself. He had you right there.
You can’t focus the rest of the evening, laughing hollowly and sipping your drink with disinterest. Did he not find you interesting? It was so hard to read him that you started to doubt if he was playing with you. Maybe this was just the way he… was.
You hadn’t noticed everyone going out for a smoke. You hadn’t noticed the way he looked at you through the window like some kind of fucking stalker, only the glow from his cigarette giving colour to his shadow.
You down the rest of your drink, pulling your coat around you. The night is crispy, air poking your cheeks like needles.
“Are you ever going to ask me out? Because if not then I’d like to know- I don’t really know if you don’t like me or if I scare you or if there’s something entirely different at play but you cannot just stare at me and expe-“ a cold, chapped pair of lips silence you. They’re gone as quickly as they came you Simon’s eyes are wide, dropping his cigarette to the ground.
“I’m sorry- do you wanna- can I ask you out? I didn’t mean to do that but you talk a lot” he said bluntly, stuttering his way through his own mortifying actions.
He kissed you. To shut up your mindless yapping he… you shake your head in disbelief.
“You are unbelievable” you say, but there’s absolutely no malice in your tone- only wonder.
“Is that a yes?” He asks, his throat feeling tight.
“Yes. It’s a good technique you have there- do you do that on everyone? Kiss them when they talk too much? I can just imagine how Soap would rea-“
He did it again, eyes closing and inhaling sharply as he covered your cold cheeks with his hands. Christ you were a talker but he didn’t mind so much, if he was allowed to quiet you like this from now on.
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xosannie · 4 months ago
Text
3:00 am
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☆Genre: Smut 18+ MDNI
☆Pairing: roommate!Seonghwa x fem!reader
☆Word Count: 4.1k
☆Warning: pwp (?), gentle/soft Seonghwa, unprotected sex (be safe horny ppl), needy reader, fingering (f receiving), pet names (princess, baby), some dirty talk, praise, fucked from behind, (lmk if I missed anything) if you see any typos no you don’t
☆Summary: It’s late and you’re too horny to sleep. Luckily you find your roommate up late as well. Come to your surprise he’s willing to help you.
—————————————————————————
You let out an exaggerated sigh of annoyance, shifting on your back after tossing and turning for a while. You stare up at the dark ceiling, admitting defeat after trying to fall asleep and failing miserably. You checked the time, looking over at the clock on your bedside table.
 3:04 am
It was late at night, and here you are laying restless on the bed, aching between your legs. You didn’t know why, but you just felt so horny. Earlier you tried to do something about it, but your fingers weren’t enough to get you close. You tried to ignore the feeling between your legs, but every time you shut your eyes images of dirty scenarios pop into your head.
You kick the covers off you, the cold night air biting into the flesh of your bare legs. You slowly pull yourself off the bed, well if you couldn’t sleep might as well get yourself a little snack. You stepped out the room and into the hallway, quietly walking past your roommate, Seonghwa’s room.
 You cocked your head to the side when you noticed a small light emanating from underneath his door. Oh, Seonghwa is awake, why is he up so late? You knock on the door and slowly turn the knob when you hear a low “Come in”, from the other side. 
Seonghwa sat at his desk, lamp shining brightly beside him. He was wearing his black, silk pajamas, back facing you as he focused on the legos in his hands. You roll your eyes, entering his room and sitting on his bed. 
“Are you really building legos at 3 am?”
 “Yup,” he says popping the ‘p’ sound. 
“Why?” 
“Can’t sleep,” he shrugs.
“That makes two of us,” you mumble.
You plop backwards on his mattress, arms sprawled out on the covers and you hear Seonghwa chuckle deeply. 
“Why can’t you sleep?”
You pause for a moment, well you certainly can’t tell him the real reason. ‘Oh well I’m so horny, it’s preventing me from sleeping.’ Seonghwa doesn’t need to know that.
“Just… restless.”
You hear a small scoff coming from Seonghwa, he still doesn’t turn your direction. He was too fixated on attaching one of the Lego pieces together in the correct spot. 
“I don’t believe you.”
You propped yourself on your elbows to look at Seonghwa, shooting him a confused look.
“What?”
“You’re a horrible liar.”
He puts the legos down and finally turns around in his chair to face you. 
“What’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything.”
You seriously debate if you should tell the truth or not. I mean, you and Seonghwa have talked about personal stuff before. You guys have lived with each other for while now so you know each other like the back of your hands. Seonghwa raises his brows at you, watching you intently as you pondered.
You let out a sigh and sit up straight. Seonghwa turned his chair around so he could face you better.
“Well… ugh, don’t laugh okay.”
“I’m not gonna laugh, what’s up?”
You take a deep breath, cheeks started to feel warmer from what you were about to say.
“I’m just… horny. So I can’t sleep.”
Seonghwa blinked at you, a little taken aback by your words.
“Oh.”
You let out a groan, falling back on the bed and grabbing a pillow to hide your face in. You heard Seonghwa chuckle a little and you kicked him. 
“I said don’t laugh.”
“I’m not laughing at you. You have me worried for a second, I thought it was gonna be something serious.”
“This is serious!”
Your voice was muffled from the pillow, Seonghwa couldn’t help but find your embarrassment endearing. 
“Just go masturbate or something.”
“I tried, but I couldn’t get close.”
You finally sit up, throwing the pillow back on the bed. Your body slumped forward as you frowned.
“Don’t you have some sort of vibrator or something?”
“It’s dead and I lost the charger,” your mumbled.
Seonghwa laughs softly again, he reached up to ruffle your hair and you glared at him.
“Seonghwa, stop that.”
You shoo’s his hand away and he smiles.
“Well I don’t know what to tell you. Just try to ignore it.”
He sits back in his chair crossing his arms. You glare at him again, not enjoying the smug look on his face. 
“You want me dead.”
“So dramatic,” he rolls his eyes. 
Seonghwa thinks for a moment while you sulk on his bed. He bit his lip, taking in a breath before speaking.
“Well… I have an idea, but i don’t know how you’ll feel about it.”
Your head perks up, at his words. You felt like you were so desperate for release that you would do anything so you could sleep.
“What is it? I’ll do anything at this point.”
“Well… maybe you need a helping hand.”
You cock your brow up, what did he mean by that? 
“Helping hand?” You ask slowly.
“Yeah, a second person…”
Your heart started to race a bit faster. What did Seonghwa mean by that? And why was his request only making the ache between your legs grow stronger.
Seonghwa stared blankly at you, waiting for your reply. He rolls his eyes when you remain silent, he can see you weren’t fully grasping his words.
“I’m saying you need to be fucked.”
“I mean… yeah I do but I don’t necessarily have anyone. Especially since it’s 3 in the morning.”
“I can do it.”
Now it was your turn to stare blankly at him. You body froze and your eyes wide, but on the inside you were screaming ‘WHAT THE FUCK SEONGHWA? WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’LL DO IT? WAIT, WHY DO I WANT TO SAY YES?’
Seonghwa snaps his fingers at you while calling your name. You snap back to reality, not realizing that you just short circuited. 
“Sorry for a second there I thought you said you would fuck me.”
“I did.”
“Seonghwa!”
“What?! I’m just trying to help. Look if you don’t want to that’s perfectly fine.”
Seonghwa waves his hands in defense, feeling a little embarrassed for suggesting such a thing. He was ready to just pretend like nothing happened and shrug off your rejection, but then you spoke.
“I never say I didn’t want to.”
Seonghwa looked back at you, feeling his heart race faster at your words. He clears his throat and stands up off the chair. You look up at him, suddenly feeling small while he towered over your sitting form.
“Then, let’s get started. The faster we finish the faster you get to sleep.”
Seonghwa sat on the bed, back pressed against the head board as he gestured you to come sit in his lap. Your body moved on auto pilot, crawling over to him and straddling his lap.
“Are you sure this is okay, Seonghwa?”
“It’s okay, I’m just trying to help my friend. If you don’t want this.. just tell me and I’ll stop.”
You felt his fingers graze your cheek as he cupped your jaw. You were already so needy that the gentle touch sent electricity through your body.
“No… I want this. I need this.”
“Alright then.”
Seonghwa smiles feeling relieved at your words. He looked down at your body, admiring how you looked in your oversized shirt and small shorts. His hands ran up your bare thighs, he chuckled when he sees the goosebumps rising up on your skin.
“You look very pretty like this. I always love it when you wear these small shorts.”
His hands reach up to grip your hips. The small touches make you feel more needy, and you couldn’t help it when a whine escaped your lips.
“Seonghwa, please I need you now. Don’t tease me.”
Seonghwa pouts at you, brushing your hair out of your face. He shows mercy, after all you’ve been needy for so long (he also couldn’t wait any longer, he needed to feel you.)
“Aww baby, don’t fret.”
He leans forward, placing soft kisses on your neck. You reach up, gripping at the silk material of his pajama shirt. You let out a sigh, enjoying the feeling of his plump lips on your hot skin. He gripped your hips to pull you closer and you let out a small yelp. 
Your pussy ached, Seonghwa swore he could feel you throbbing through the thin material of your clothes. That made him feral, he didn’t know what took over him when he gripped your shorts and pulled them down your hips.
You gasped, shifting slightly so Seonghwa could slide the shorts off your legs. You let out another whine when his long, cold fingers slid through your wet folds. Seonghwa groaned against your neck. 
“Fuck you’re so wet baby.”
“I told you I’m horny.”
“You’re so cute.”
His praises only make you feel even needier. His voice was so soft when he spoke to you and his warm breath against your neck sent shivers down your spine. You gently pulled at the hair on the nape of his neck when he licked a warm strip on your jaw.
You felt Seonghwa slowly rub circles on your clit with ease. You couldn’t help it when your hips started to grind down against his fingers, his digits sliding against your folds in the best way possible.
“Oh you’re such a needy girl grinding on my fingers like that.”
You nod and hummed in agreement. Never in a million years did you think your roommate would be touching you this way, but right now you didn’t care. All you cared about was Seonghwa and his gentle touches. The whole time you were enjoying yourself Seonghwa  was admiring you, you’re so beautiful it’s mesmerizing.
“Why don’t you say it for me princess?”
“Hm?”
“Tell me you’re my needy girl.”
You felt your core ache with need at his words. Subconsciously, you began to grind harder on his fingers, your hips moving faster the more you grew desperate. Seonghwa smiles to himself at the sight, feeling his own arousal building up in his pants.
“I’m your… needy girl Seonghwa. Please take care of me.”
Seonghwa groaned at the sound of your voice. He pulled his fingers away, grabbing your hips and gently moving you on the bed. Your body felt like putty at this point that you moved without resistance, letting Seonghwa control your body however he wanted. 
“You sound so pretty, I’m gonna take real good care of you okay? Then you can sleep so well.” 
The only response you could muster was a small whine and a nod. Seonghwa didn’t mind though, he knew you were probably already too lost to even form words.
Seonghwa had you laying on your stomach, you cheek pressed against the pillow and your legs spread wide. His hands slid down your body, cupping your ass while he placed a soft kiss on your shoulder blade.
“Can you move your hips up darling?”
You nod, moving your hips while Seonghwa pulled you up simultaneously. You were now ass up, legs spread wide and pussy on full display. What a sight for sore eyes. Seonghwa couldn’t feel his dick twitching in his pants just by looking at you.
He noticed the way your folds glistened with arousal, he moaned at the sight, taking two fingers and sliding them in with ease. 
You whine in the pillow, rocking your hips on his fingers. He slowly started to pump them in and out, holding your hips to keep your still.
“You’re so wet… and warm. What got you this horny in the first place?”
You shrug, turning your head to speak clearer.
“I don’t know…. I just started to feel this way.  But once you began to touch me…”
You let out whines between your word and Seonghwa watched you endearingly. He smiled at you softly as he continued to thrust his fingers as deep as they can go. 
“Did my touch make you more needy?”
You let out a long whine, nodding against the pillow. Seonghwa felt his whole body ignite with desire at your reaction. He needed you, badly. And the fact that you felt the same was doing something to Seonghwa. 
He wanted to keep touching you, and give you all the pleasure you deserve. But the more he looked at you and the more he played with you, he just grew too needy. And by the way your hips were desperately trying to fuck back against his fingers, he’s confident to say you were feeling the same.
“Oh god. I’m gonna fuck you now. Is that okay?”
You nodded eagerly, gripping tightly to the bedsheets beneath you.
“Yes yes please. I can’t wait any longer.”
Seonghwa chuckled at your neediness. He slowly pulled his fingers out, groaning when he saw the slick of your arousal glisten on them.
“I got you princess, I won’t make you wait.”
He pulled the waistband off his pajama pants down to his mid thigh. He grabbed hold of the base, his dick literally throbbing in his hand. He rubbed his red tip against your hole making him moan and you whimper at the feeling. 
“I can’t wait to feel you baby. I’m gonna put it in,” he warned.
Once he saw you nod against the pillow he was ready to go. Seonghwa placed his hand flat on the small of your back, the head of his cock prodded at your hole before he slowly pushed it in.
You let out a gasp, finally feeling what you’ve been yearning for all night. Seonghwa took in a sharp breath, head falling back as he slowly pushed his dick inside you. You were both letting out long moans, and you felt you legs start to tremble already. 
Seonghwa wasn’t the biggest in the world, but god did he feel amazing. He was the perfect size just for you, and when he fully bottoms out and you feel his pelvis pressed against your ass, you were filled just right. No pain, no discomfort, just bliss. 
“Oh my god,”you whispered. 
You both stayed that way for a moment, Seonghwa leaned forward with his chest flushed against your back. His arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you impossibly closer and you can feel his warm breath on the nape of your neck.
“You have the most perfect pussy. Feels so good,” he mumbled. 
You were going to reply, but your words got caught in your throat when you felt Seonghwa  start to rock his hips back and forth. Your whole body was filled with pleasure and you felt your mind start to cloud. Seonghwa rested his hands on either side of your head, hovering over you. He chuckled when he saw your expression change from desperate needy, to a blissed out face. 
He was so close you could feel his long hair tickling your cheek. He leaned down to kiss your head, whispering praises in your ear. His room was filled with lewd moans, the bed squeaking and hitting the wall. But his favorite, was the sound of his cock pounding deep inside your wet pussy. He tried to keep his own moans down, wanting to only hear yours, but it was hard when you started to clench around him.
You gripped at the pillow beneath you, hiding your face in it and letting out muffled moans. Seonghwa was fucking you just right, hitting all the spots you could never reach on your own. Seonghwa tsked at you, watching the way you hide away into the pillow.
“No no baby let me hear your pretty moans.”
You whine, turning your head to the side to let out clearer moans. Seonghwa pulled away, you felt a rush of air hit your skin. You already missed his touch. You turned to look over your shoulder, ready to let out a protest. But before you could Seonghwa gripped tightly to your hips and drilled into you. 
You let out a yelp and you head fell back on the pillow. The bed squeaked louder beneath you, it wouldn’t be a shock if you hear a complaint from the neighbors the next morning. You reached behind you to grip Seonghwa’s hip, pulling him against you to feel him even deeper. 
Seonghwa groaned, he was mesmerized at the sight of you sucking up his length with ease. He watched intently, grabbing the flesh of your ass and spreading them apart to give him a better view. 
“That’s it baby take my dick, you deserve it. You deserve to get fucked.”
“Seonghwa you fuck me so good. I love it… please don’t stop.”
“I’m not gonna stop princess. Not when you look this good…fuck and feel this good.”
Your legs trembled uncontrollably and Seonghwa noticed. He cooed at the sight rubbing his hand against your back.
“Aw baby are you getting tired?”
You whine, nodding with a small pout. You felt so weak your legs would give out in any moment. He chuckled, pushing you down on the mattress.
“Lay down pretty girl, you did so good just lay there and take it.”
You whimpered, your body fell fully on the bed but Seonghwa didn’t stop. He repositioned himself she could fuck you at the new angle. He hovered over you again, resting his weight on his hands beside you head, You whined and cried into the pillow, you couldn’t control any of the sounds leaving your lips. At this point you didn’t care that it was near 4 am, and neither did Seonghwa. 
With the new position you felt impossible tighter around Seonghwa’s dick. He wasn’t gonna last very long, he grunted loudly cursing in your ear. You felt your own orgasm creep up, you have never came from another man fucking you. Seonghwa just felt so good, he filled you up just right it was like his dick was made for you. 
You reach up behind you, cupping the back of Seonghwa’s neck. Seonghwa leaned in to kiss your cheek, jaw, neck any place he could reach.
“Seonghwa baby I’m close. Please don’t stop please I’m gonna cum for you.”
Seonghwa groaned at your words, his own orgasm dangerously close as well.
“Yeah? You gonna cum for me? Cum on my dick.”
You moaned louder, nodding your head. You turned you head back to the best of you abilities. You and Seonghwa stared into each others eyes, you don’t know what came over you, but the way his lips parted while he panted and his brows furrowed with pleasure. You couldn’t stop yourself when you pulled him down to connect your lips together. 
Seonghwa moaned in the kiss, gripping your jaw with one hand. He snakes it down to wrap around your neck. He didn’t apply pressure, he just wanted to hold it there. A small reminder that right now you were his. The moment you felt Seonghwa slide his tongue in your mouth you were ready to be pushed off the edge. 
Seonghwa whimpered when you tightened around him, he knew your were close. He needed to see it, needed to see you unwind on his cock. He whispered against your lips in a low seductive voice.
“Cum for me baby, you deserve it.”
And with that, your body let go. You pulled away to fall against the mattress, hiding in the pillow as you moaned loudly in it. Your body felt like it was on fire, and your eyes rolled in the back of you head. Seonghwa gripped tightly to your hip when he felt you cum on his cock. His own hips faltered, and he pulled out to release hot cum all over your ass and lower back. His moans were so beautiful, so soft yet sexy. 
You felt like you were on cloud nine, panting against the pillow with your body feeling weak. Seonghwa stared at you, fucked out and limp on his bed. He chuckled breathlessly, leaning in to kiss your shoulder.
“Good girl.”
You let out a weak whine, the sound being muffled by the pillow. He pushed your hair to the side, leaning in to kiss the back of your neck. He caressed your body in a soothing manner, that was probably the best sex he’s ever had and little did he know you were thinking the same thing. 
Seonghwa reached to his bedside drawer to pull out some baby wipes. You shivered when the cold, wet wipes made contact to your skin while Seonghwa cleaned you up. You giggle against the pillow, turning back to look at Seonghwa.
“Thank you.”
Seonghwa smiled back at you, throwing the soiled wet wipe in the trash. He adjusted your shirt so it could cover your body again, giving your some decency. You giggle at the action and shift around so you were on your back. Seonghwa pushed his hair behind his ear, trying not to look at you body (even though he just fucked you against the mattress). You noticed him suddenly get shy, and you reached up to hold his hand.
“I enjoyed it, thank you Seonghwa.”
“Me too.”
Seonghwa smiled brightly at you. He grips your hand tightly, holding it in his lap. You both suddenly felt a weird tension in the air. Did that really just happen? You sit up, scooting closer to Seonghwa. 
Seonghwa stared into you eyes, he wanted to reach up and kiss you again but he didn’t want to possibly make you uncomfortable (again, he was just thrusting his dick in you a few seconds ago). You both stared at each other for a moment, having a new revelation about one another. 
“So… that was new.” Seonghwa spoke.
You giggled and nodded. You could see Seonghwa relax a bit at the sound of your laugh. 
“Very new.”
Seonghwa looked down at your hand in his. You followed his gaze and gripped his hand tighter.
“It was a good new,” you assured. 
“Good.”
You both stare at each other again and you clear your throat when you notice the tension creep up again. 
“Well, I’m actually really tired now. So thank you for helping me.”
Seonghwa nodded, almost forgetting the whole reason why this started in the first place. He felt a small pang of disappointment when you pulled your hand away and he felt you shift on the bed, ready to get up and go.
“Wait… you’re leaving?”
You looked back at Seonghwa’s, your heart ached when you saw the disappointment glint in his eyes.
“I just thought maybe you would want me to sleep in my room.”
“No, stay here. Sleep with me.”
He gripped your hand again to pull you closer. You felt relief at his words, glad he didn’t want you to go. You stood in front of him, wrapping your arms around his neck. 
“If you’re okay with it then… I will.”
Seonghwa chuckled, pulling you back in bed. You squealed at the sudden action and you felt the fluffy pillow beneath your head.
“Obviously I’m okay with it. Don’t treat me like one of your one night stands.”
You giggle at his words, you pulled him down so he could hover over you. You cup his cheek and hold him close.
“No I would never do that. Besides I live with you I have to see you.”
Seonghwa chuckles. He glanced at your lips, wanting to kiss them again. He pushed your hair out of you eyes, his touch was so gentle it made your stomach flip. You could tell he was getting shy again, damn he’s so cute.
“Seonghwa you don’t need to act bashful. You just fucked me so deep and now you’re too shy to kiss me.”
Seonghwa bursted out laughing at your remark, hiding his face in your neck. He felt his ears burn in embarrassment.
“Leave me alone,” he whined.
You chuckled, pulling him up and placing a soft kiss on his lips. He kissed you back immediately, cupping your cheek gently. How could he be so caring and soft when a few minutes ago he was passionately thrusting into you. Now that’s a man with duality.
“Let’s go to bed, it’s really late.” Seonghwa mutters against your lips. 
You nod, pulling Seonghwa in for one last kiss. 
“Okay.”
————————————————————————
The next morning you woke up in bed, but it wasn’t your bed. Deliriously, you examined Seonghwa’s room, it was dim due to the curtains shutting out the bright morning sun. You were a little sad when you felt the bed was empty with only you in it. You picked up the phone to read the time but you were met with a text from Seonghwa.
Nerd (Seonghwa): Sorry I had to leave for dance practice :( I had fun last night though, I’ll see you when I get home <3
You smile after reading the text, plopping back down on Seonghwa’s bed with a content sigh. 
“Damn it Seonghwa. What did you just start?”
~
a/n: I’m writing a new fic and I’m really excited about it >_< (ofc it’s another Mingi one Oop- who should I write about next?)
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wolvietxt · 4 months ago
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ᰔ logan can’t sleep without you !
a/n : shorter thoughts formatted like this now! (~800 words)
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logan had spent the first hour lying still, one arm thrown over his face, trying to block out the dim light filtering in from the window. he’d turned over a few times, each time expecting to feel you beside him, your steady breathing lulling him to sleep, but the space was empty. cold.
he grumbled to himself, shifting his body again, tossing the blanket off because suddenly it felt too hot. you weren’t gone for long. just out of town for a few days, something you had to take care of. you’d kissed him before you left, told him not to worry. he didn’t. not in the way you probably thought, anyway.
but this... this wasn’t normal. he could feel the fatigue in his bones, weighing down on him like gravity, but sleep just wouldn’t come. his mind kept wandering back to the same thought. you. where you were, what you were doing. it wasn’t that he doubted you could handle yourself. hell, you were tougher than most people he knew. it wasn’t even that.
it was the goddamn silence. the empty space next to him where you should’ve been. it was all wrong.
logan rolled over again, eyes squeezing shut as if forcing them closed would somehow drag him into sleep. his body ached from the day’s work, muscles heavy and begging for rest, but his mind refused to follow. his thoughts were too loud, too restless. he’d grown too used to your presence beside him. too used to the way your fingers would brush against his skin unconsciously in the middle of the night, grounding him in that quiet way only you could.
he opened his eyes again, staring at the ceiling. “this is ridiculous,” he muttered to himself, voice low and rough. 
another hour passed with no sleep in sight, and his frustration was only growing. he shifted again, flipping onto his side and glaring at the empty space where you’d normally be curled up against him. 
the sound of the front door unlocking made him sit up quickly, heart kicking up a beat, though he’d never admit it. he listened as your footsteps padded softly into the room, and there you were - finally. you smiled at him, a bit tired but happy to be home.
“hey,” you whispered, setting your bag down quietly. “didn’t mean to wake you.”
“you didn’t,” logan muttered, voice rougher than usual. he tried to play it cool, but he was already moving over, making space for you in the bed, his eyes glued to your every movement. “couldn’t sleep.”
you paused, giving him a curious look. “couldn’t sleep?” you repeated, pulling off your jacket and slipping into bed beside him. 
logan huffed. “don’t make a thing outta it,” he grumbled, but the second you were close enough, he wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you against his chest. “just… missed you, is all.”
you couldn’t help but smile at how gruff he sounded, the way his words were soft despite the grumbling. “i missed you too,” you whispered, snuggling into him. you could feel how tightly he was holding onto you, something protective in the way his body curled around yours.
“yeah, well… don’t leave again,” he muttered, his hand coming up to brush the hair from your face, his touch surprisingly gentle. he pressed a kiss to your temple, a little grumpy but undeniably affectionate.
“you got all needy without me, huh?” you teased lightly, expecting him to grumble back, but instead, he just pulled you closer, his face buried in your hair.
“maybe,” he mumbled against your skin, his voice barely above a whisper. 
your heart softened at his admission. it wasn’t like him to need anyone, let alone admit it, but there he was, holding onto you like you were the only thing that could give him peace. 
you smiled into the darkness, your fingers tracing small circles on his arm. “i’m not going anywhere.”
logan didn’t say anything else, just pressed his face closer to your neck, breathing you in, like that alone was enough to finally let him relax. within minutes, his breathing slowed, his grip around you loosening slightly as sleep finally took over.
you stayed like that, wrapped up in his warmth, his usual tough exterior softened just for you. and as you drifted off, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that despite all his grumbling, despite how hard he tried to hide it, he needed you as much as you needed him.
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@thugbiscuits, @rosiahills22, @cassehtwah, @whxtewolf
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snowballseal · 5 months ago
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Sleepy Affection
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Sylus X Reader
Summary: You're tired. Sylus is the best cuddle partner. Lots of soft love here. That's it.
Word Count: 1061
Note: Self indulgent really, I have a hard time with burnout and sleeping in general, but I know cuddling with this man would solve all of that. Sorry if I overused adjectives.
---
Days as a hunter are long. It’s a part of the job, always being alert, always willing to help when the need arises. And you love it. You love being awake before the sun rises, and the exhaustion in your limbs as you walk home. It satisfies the restlessness in your bones.
But still, it’s hard to not hit burnout eventually.
You can feel it weighing down your body as you step out of headquarters. The sun is just rising over Linkon, and you narrow your eyes up at the sky. Of course you worked through the night. It was that or let your paperwork drag into your weekend. Maybe not the best decision. You sigh, rolling your shoulders. Every muscle in your body aches for sleep.
You don’t want to go home, though. It would be too quiet, too empty. If anything, you would probably end up staring at your ceiling, impossibly restless despite how tired you are. And that sounds absolutely awful.
Before you can think too hard about it, your feet are carrying you towards the transit center. To the one place where you feel safe, despite all the reasons you shouldn’t.
---
The N109 Zone is strangely quiet in the early morning gloom. The streets are nearly empty, the only sound coming from the electric buzz of the overhead wires and the snuffling of a stray dog on the corner. For a fleeting moment, you wonder if being a criminal makes you allergic to the day. Or maybe they’re all vampires. An amused hum dances past your lips at the thought. Perhaps they’re not after the aether core in your heart, but your blood.
One man seems to be at least.
By the time you reach Sylus’ place, it feels like you're walking through a light fog. Or stepping into a dream. The home greets you with a pleasant warmth that eases the tension in your muscles. Music drifts through the halls, distant and fuzzy with that old quality that vinyl has. Like a siren song, it draws you deeper into the dark comfort of the manor.
Right to your sleeping dragon.
Even while he’s sleeping, Sylus looks…dignified. Ethereal even. The soft light peaking through his curtains casts a glow on his features, dancing across his white lashes, making them almost look like snowflakes. Your eyes trail over the relaxed line of his jaw, the contours of his chest and shoulders. He lies so still, you could almost believe he’s a statue, if not for the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He just looks so…perfect.
It’s hard to believe that this is Onychinus’ feared leader. 
Toeing off your boots, you tread carefully to the edge of the bed. The mattress dips under your weight, the sheets soft and silky under your fingers. Sylus lets out a low sigh at the movement, red eyes flickering open ever so slightly before falling back shut. Without a word, he shifts and lifts the sheets for you to crawl in next to him.
His warmth draws you in, just like his wispy, old music. You can’t resist it, not that you want to. It’s all the invitation you need to tuck yourself as close as possible, like an exhausted little kitten looking for a safe place to sleep. Sylus immediately draws your leg over his hip, long fingers kneading lazily at your thigh. Every part of you presses against his addicting warmth, drawing a content hum from your lips, completely pliant under his touch. He could do anything to you right now and you wouldn’t complain. But there’s an almost reverent feeling to the way he holds you, the way he traces shapes along your skin and presses gingerly into your wound up muscles.
It’s a rare moment of pure gentleness. No teasing quips. No haughty smirk. Just you and Sylus, the air between you thick with something so incredibly tender. You stay like that for what feels like forever, time lost to soft touches and quiet sighs. Neither of you are willing to break whatever spell has fallen over the room. 
Soon enough, though, the weight of your eyelids becomes too difficult to fight. You tuck your face into the curve of his throat, the scent of his cologne washing over your senses. It’s spicy and warm, like worn leather and rum, just so perfectly Sylus.
You wish you could stay like this forever, floating pleasantly on the edge of sleep with him. Just with him. An indescribable fondness curls somewhere deep in your chest.
“I missed you,” you admit into the crook of his neck, your voice thick with sleep and something vulnerable.
“Mmmm, I was wondering why you crawled into my bed in the middle of the morning.” 
He wasn’t, really. You both feel it whenever you can’t see each other for too long. It’s like the worst feeling of homesickness. He won’t admit to it, but you can feel it in the way his arms curl possessively around your waist, like he never wants to let you go. You slide a hand up to his chest, savoring the warmth of his skin, the steady thrum of his heart under your palm. You’ve missed this. Sylus shivers at your teasing touch, those red eyes finally flickering open again to look down at you, half-lidded and unfocused. You hold his gaze, trying to memorize every detail, every fleck of color, the dark gleam of fondness in their depths, matching your own. This is the real Sylus. Gentle and kind, passion burning just below the surface. The one only you get to see. And you love him more than you’ll ever be able to explain.
You curl your arms around his narrow waist, forehead pressing against his chest, “Is it okay that I came?”
You already know the answer. Still, Sylus humors you.
“I would have it no other way,” he rumbles lowly, lips brushing against your hair. “Now rest, sweetheart, I can tell how tired you are. We can talk in the evening.”
You hum, eyes finally falling shut, “Promise?”
“I promise.”
And just like that, you find it impossible to stay awake any longer, lulled by his words and the sound of his breathing. Every nerve, every worry, washes away, leaving you to fall into the darkness you’ve been craving, dreaming of the weekend you can spend together.
---
Honestly took so long to write. I wanted to moment to feel soft and more drawn out, don't know if it worked. But I hope y'all liked it :)
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redsray · 11 months ago
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Batfam AU where Jason never dies, so Tim doesn't join the family the standard way. Instead, he continues pouring most of his time and energy into his photography, eventually becoming known as a popular photographer for events and all that. So now, picture this: Tim gets hired to be a photographer for a Wayne gala. Obviously, he's ecstatic, because he can take pictures of Batman, Robin and Nightwing and be in their presence for a whole night. Since Tim is so naturally talented in stealth and taking pictures unnoticed, the second one of the fam realises this they're like: this kid is good. Tim manages to go unnoticed by all 3 of them (all bat-trained, one literally batman) multiple times during the night, and even when he is noticed, he disappears before they can manage to get a good look at him; to the sheer amazement of Dick and Jason.
Jason, (very discreetly putting snacks in his suit pocket): i know you're under the table, kid.
Tim: don't mind me, Mr. Todd-Wayne, sir, just taking a few pictures
Jason: right... Jason's fine, and what pictures were you taking from under the table?!
Tim, showing him perfectly good shots of him: these.
Jason: how did you get that. it looks like you took it from the rafters
Tim, nodding: I did.
Jason, glancing at the ceiling: ...what?
Tim, gone:
Jason: no fucking way.
Dick, hearing a very, very faint camera shutter from behind him:
Dick, turning around and finding no one there: what the actual...
Dick, getting the feeling of being watched and whirling around to find Tim staring at him from across the room: ... huh.
Jason, pulling Dick aside: you see that kid too, right?!
Dick, nodding: the camera kid, yeah?
Jason: who is that.
Dick: he's one of the hired photographers, apparently. one of the best in his field, despite his age.
Jason: he's good. like, really good. snuck up on me 4 times already, the little bastard.
Dick: you too? i swear he's constantly watching. it's creepy how well he can sneak past both of us.
Jason:
Dick:
Jason: you don't think...
Dick: no. B would've told us.
Jason:
Dick:
Dick: did he get another kid and not tell us somehow
Bruce: what do you mean another kid?
Jason: you heard us. did you adopt another kid and not tell us?!
Bruce: no?? how would I even?? ... what's this about?
Dick: one of the photographers has managed to sneak up on both me and Jay multiple times already
Bruce: what.
Jason: he also can't be more than like. 15 or 16. so forgive us for assuming you took another one in.
Bruce: do you know his name?
Dick:
Jason:
Bruce: really?
Dick: in our defence, he's very hard to catch. i wouldn't be surprised if he's snuck up on you, too.
[camera shutter noise]
All of them, whipping their heads toward the sound only to find nothing but air:
Tim, smiling from the other side of the room:
Jason: do you see what we mean?!
Cue an entire night of shenanigans where it's just Dick, Jason and Bruce trying to catch Tim and learn about him. Upon finding out who he is and where he lives, Dick immediately asks to keep him as an honorary member of the family. Jason is hesitant at first but at some point Tim calls Bruce Batman instead of Mr. Wayne on accident and Jason laughs so hard he's basically won over. Bruce can do nothing but watch as Tim proceeds to come over almost every night for sleepovers and is coddled by both of his sons. And he can't deny, the kid's investigation and stealth skills are top tier. By the time Dick and Jason both start referring to Tim as 'their younger brother' Bruce has just accepted his fate.
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lnfours · 2 months ago
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close to you | l.n
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summary: chemical override, ultraviolet, you could be mine tonight ; or having a crush is mind boggling, soul crushing and confusing, but also so exciting at the same time.
warnings: inspired by close to you by gracie abrams, friends to lovers (bc it’s my brand), pining, all the feels, reader is childhood best friends with pietra, fluff, and some language here and there
jordans notes: hi everyone! long time no see (😅) i’m slowly getting back into writing, school has been kicking my ass. i don’t think this is my best work, but i really wanted to get something out for you guys since ive been gone so long! i promise there’s more to come than just this! i hope you all are well!! sending you all my love 🤍
masterlist | listen to the playlist
before you met him, you didn’t think about the color green too often. it was one of those colors you didn’t necessarily love or hate, it was just kind of… there.
to you, it was just one of those colors where shades of it were prettier than the actual color itself. or a color you only really liked during the fall. like how, typically, people only liked the color blue during the summer.
that was until you met him.
the boy with those big, beautiful, slightly blue but slightly green, water-colored eyes. now you love the color green. obsessed over it. thought about it every second of every day. it was crazy how a simple opinion could change in a matter of seconds, all because of those stupidly pretty eyes.
You lie awake on your back, staring at the ceiling. surely it wasn’t normal to obsess over someone this much, right? especially over someone you weren’t even sure would ever feel the same.
sure, you had crushes before, and had your fair share of falling quickly and all at once. it wasn’t an unusual feeling to you, no stranger to catching feelings rather quickly.
but this time around, everything was different. everything felt more intense, more mind-boggling and confusing and pulse rising. the feeling so foreign that sometimes you wish you had never met him so you wouldn’t have fallen so hard so sudden, but deep down you were so glad that you had.
it was the little things that made you wonder what it was like to be loved by him. the subtle glances in your direction, the gentle but lingering touches. you had thought you were going crazy, reading too much into things in the beginning. over-analyzing every little thing that made your body light up with excitement.
until pietra confirmed your suspicions.
“he’s totally into you,” she said, leaning closer to your ear as you watched him from across the room, his head tilted back, nose scrunched and eyes half shut as he laughed about something max had said, which was likely something stupid, “like, one hundred percent, down bad, into you.”
you tilted your head at the blonde, “you think so?”
she scoffed, “more like know so,”
“who told you?”
“no one has to tell me anything,” she said, “i can just tell.”
you rolled your eyes at her, “p, i’ve told you a million times, he’s not into me.”
but she was right. he was one hundred percent, undoubtedly, down. fucking. bad.
ever since the moment he met you at that stupid pub with max and his group of friends, all he wanted to do was get to know you. he didn’t want it to seem obvious when he asked max about you, but he knew no matter what he did it was going to seem obvious. just from the way he looked at you like you hung the stars in the night sky, he was no where near subtle.
he hated to admit it, but he had even done some lowkey instagram stalking through one of his private accounts. he had seen all the pictures of you and pietra, a life long friendship explained to him in front of his own eyes.
and every time his fingers would swipe through your account, all he could think about was how beautiful you were. how your eyes sparkled every time you smiled for the camera, how happy you looked when you genuinely laughed, and how he wished to be the reason behind the gorgeous sound forever.
he wasn’t trying to make it obvious tonight, not wanting to make it well known that he had his eyes on you for a while. but he had lost track at the amount of times you had caught him looking at you, and he swore he had even caught you looking at him first a handful of times.
so when everyone in the house decided that it was the end of the night and started filing through the door, he took it upon himself to make his way over to you. you were talking with pietra, a smile on your face as you giggled about something she had said. the brazilian woman’s eyes landed on him, to which she looked back at you and said something before you turned to look in his direction.
he smiled when your eyes met his, “hey, did you need a ride home?”
your heart threatened to leap out of your chest, “uhm, i was just gonna call an uber, you don’t have to-“
“no, no,” he said, shaking his head, “i insist, really. it’s not a big deal.”
how could you argue with him? those pretty green eyes, that smile, the face. you simply couldn’t. it was impossible. you couldn’t see the look pietra was giving you, but knowing her, you knew it was a look that said ‘go with him’.
and do you did, the cool, crisp autumn air in london suddenly making you wish you had brought a jacket. you had wished you planned for the nightly breeze, wishing you had opted for a long-sleeved shirt for the night instead of the spaghetti strap tank top you had chosen.
as you walked to the car that was parked down the street, he noticed you shivering. he saw the way you hugged yourself, your hair moving with the breeze. his curls danced in the wind and he knew if he was slightly cold, you were definitely freezing.
he tugged off the hoodie before passing it to you, the sound of the doors to the mclaren echoing before he turned to you.
“here,” he said, “it’s a little windy out, i know you’re probably freezing.”
your stomach did backflips as you took the soft black material from his hands, “oh, are you sure? aren’t you cold?”
he sent you a shrug, “i’ll live,”
there was no use arguing with him, so instead you sent him another smile in appreciation before tugging the sweatshirt over your head. it was already warm from hugging his body, and you couldn't help the way the smell of his cologne lingered in the soft material. you had to keep yourself from burying yourself in it, the feeling of being close to him without actually being close to him sending butterflies to your stomach.
the car ride was filled with comfortable silence, music softly playing in the background. he stole occasional looks over at your figure as you looked out the window, the neck of his hoodie pulled up to your face as you watched the street lights pass by. you looked beautiful in the dim light, he couldn’t help himself.
he thought about taking the long way to your house. a simple but effective way to be able to spend more time with you. however, the thought of you being confused and questioning his actions was enough for him to stay straight at the stop light instead of taking a right for the longer way.
he tried not to look disappointed when he reached your house, parking in front of it. he wondered if your roommates were home, if you’d tell them about the fact that he drove you home.
he turned the engine off, unclicking his seatbelt, “i’ll walk you up.”
you nodded, the both of you getting out of the car and walking through the dewy grass up to the wooden door. you fished for your keys in your purse, putting them into the lock before turning to look at him, “thanks for the ride,”
“anytime,” he smiled. he meant it. and you knew he meant it. he’d come get you at anytime of the day, wether it was early in the morning or late at night, he was always going to show up.
you stood there, eyes searching his face. he was so pretty to you, the brown curls that were slowly growing into a mullet to the sparkling eyes that you loved so much. the dimples in his cheeks that appeared whenever he smiled, the slight facial hair he had managed to grow, but your favorite part was the moles and freckles that covered his skin. the ones he had once complained about, but you loved the way they scattered his skin.
you dreamt of kissing each and every single one of them.
“hey, lando! long time no see!”
you both averted your attention, neither of you hearing the door open behind you. in the doorway stood your dark haired roommate, faith.
“hey,” he smiled softly, trying once again to not look disappointed from the way your moment was interrupted.
“we’re having drinks and watching movies if you wanted to join,” she smiled, ignoring the look you were sending her way.
“oh, uhm,” he started, not sure how to answer, “it’s getting kinda late, i dunno-“
“you can crash in y/n’s room, im sure she wouldn’t mind.”
what was that supposed to mean?
you looked over at him, “you don’t have to stay-“
“he’s been gone for weeks, he’s legally obligated,” she said, reaching from the doorway and grabbing both of your arms, “c’mon, liv is making martinis.”
you sighed heavily and he laughed softly at your protest that went unnoticed by her. your other roommate, olivia, stood in the kitchen.
“look who i found!” faith exclaimed excitedly.
“oh, hey guys! just in time,” she smiled, “it’s martini and movie friday!”
lando leaned over to you as the other two talked, “they do this every friday?”
you sighed again, nodding, “unfortunately,” you turned to your roommates, “we’re gonna head up to my room, actually,”
you led lando to the stairs, ignoring the playful teasing from the girls in the kitchen, “oooh!!”
“up to your room, huh?”
you shook your head, opening your bedroom door and letting him in before closing it, “‘m sorry for them, they’re… how do i put this?”
“a lot?” he asked, a smile playing at his lips.
“yeah, we can put it that way.”
he chuckled, sitting down on the bed as you put your things down. he looked around your bedroom, not much had changed since the last time he had been in it. the fairy lights dimly lit up the room, photos littered the walls. the desk that sat in the corner of the room kept your makeup bag and brushes, a mirror sitting in the middle.
he looked at your nightstand, a picture of you, him, max and pietra sitting on the wooden surface. it was a picture from miami, smiles on all of your faces. you stood in the middle, arm wrapped around his middle as you smiled for the camera, his trophy in the hand that wasn’t wrapped around your middle.
“i’m gonna change,” you said, “i might have a pair of your sweatpants somewhere if you wanted to change.”
he nodded, “yeah, that’d be great.”
you turned back to the dresser, opening drawers in search for the pair of sweatpants he leant you one day. the same day he picked you up from the failed date. the one that left you crying outside, swearing up and down that you’d never find love. despite it being in front of you this entire time.
finally finding the black material, you handed them to him, “i meant to give them back, but i just haven’t seen you,”
he shook his head. you could’ve kept them forever and he wouldn’t have minded one bit, “it’s alright,”
you grabbed your pajama bottoms from the foot of the bed, “be right back.”
he changed into the sweatpants while you were gone, still looking around your room. he smiled at the picture of you and your roommates, clearly taken at a party. you wore the prettiest smile he had ever seen, dressed in a black off the shoulder top. it was from the same night he realized he liked you in more than just a friendly way.
the door opening brought him back to reality, his eyes landing on your figure and how you were still wearing the black hoodie he had given you earlier. it brought a small smile to his face.
you noticed his eyes on you, looking down at the black hoodie, “i swear i’ll give it back once i wash it.”
he laughed softly, shaking his head, “it’s okay. it looks better on you anyways.”
you smiled, fighting the heat that was rising your cheeks but it was no use. he joined you on the bed, watching as you flipped through different things on netflix.
“you don’t have to stay, y’know,” you said, looking over at him, “if you have better things to do..”
“i don’t,” he said, turning his head to look your way, “in all honesty, there’s no where else i’d rather be.”
you sucked in a breath, your eyes dancing across his face once again. it was hard for you not to stare, not when he looked so pretty like this. back pressed against your headboard, hair slightly messy, and he looked so cozy. it made you want to wrap yourself around him, lay your head on his chest.
he did the same, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to memorize every single feature, every single imperfection that he thought was still perfect. the same ones you’d argue about, but he still always found adorable.
his voice broke the comfortable silence that had fallen between the two of you, “do you ever have something to say but can’t find the words to say it?”
your furrowed your eyebrows, “like?”
he licked his lips, his attention now fixed on his hands as he fiddled with the ring on his middle finger. you never thought he’d be the type to get shy, almost embarrassed as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink.
“like, i dunno,” he mumbled, “i just.. i don’t know how to put it, but ever since the moment we met, i’ve found myself just.. thinking about you. thinking about what it’d be like to cross this weird, thin, little line we’ve drawn. if we both just said ‘fuck it’ and dove head first into whatever uncharted territory we’re tiptoeing around.”
his eyes met yours again as he let out a nervous breath. you hadn’t realized you had been holding yours, shock clearly written on your face which made him shake his head.
“never mind, it’s dumb-“
“lando,”
“- i knew i shouldn’t have listened to what max was going on about-“
you rolled your eyes as he kept blabbering away, talking nonsense. your body moving before your brain could comprehend what you were about to do, only catching up when your hands met his jaw and you were suddenly catching yourself a mere few inches from his face.
it was too late now, no going back.
you pulled his face closer to yours, his blabbering coming to a halt when you pressed your lips to his. his brain short circuited, you pulling away before he had the chance to kiss you back.
“‘m sorry,” you immediately apologized, “i don’t know why i did-“
it was his turn to cut you off now, grabbing your chin and pulling you back to his lips. his thumb traced along your jaw, his pointer finger sitting underneath your chin.
you kissed him back after a second of surprise, letting his free hand reach down to grab your hip, pulling you on top of his lap. your hands threaded through his curls, nails scratching his scalp.
when you both finally pulled away, all you could do was smile. giggles and chuckles echoing through the room as you both sat breathless, his nose bumping yours as he tucked a piece of stray hair away from your face.
“so we’re in agreement then, huh?” he asked.
“isn’t that obvious?” you smiled and he shook his head, letting out another boyish laugh.
“how long have you.. y’know, had feelings for me, i guess?”
“since the minute i saw you,” he confessed, “you were the most beautiful girl in the room, a smile that would make everyone stop and stare. it’s always been you, i’ve just been too scared to tell you.”
you smiled again, heart fluttering in your chest. all the dreams and wishes you spent with him on your mind, it was all finally paying off, “it’s always been you for me, too. i thought i had been way too obvious, but clearly i wasn’t obvious enough.”
“we were both too oblivious,” he said, moving more hair from your face, “but it’s okay, we’re here now.”
you were convinced your smile was never going to be wiped off your face, “kiss me again,”
“with pleasure,” he mumbled, lips finding yours once more as you melted into him.
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