#have been sitting in my wips for a while and decided to finish it

[superwingscentral]

🩷🩵💚

[em1989ts]

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐟

robert "bob" reynolds x reader smut

word count: 1.9k - masterlist

summary: bob had been helping you out by occasionally doing your laundry, but when you come back early from a mission, you find out he might've had some selfish motives

contents: panty thief bob, kinda perv! bob, m! masturbation, caught in the act, handjob

author's note: i'm so glad i have time to write again, i have so many wips just sitting in my google docs (dw one is survival of the fittest p3), and hopefully i will get them finished soon. i've been completely captivated by bob/lewis pullman for the last month but five hargreeves still has my heart dw

proofread, enjoy!

Years ago, you’d always imagined what it would be like for the Avengers to return to their glorious tower in the middle of Manhattan after a mission. Landing on the side of the sparkling skyscraper in a quinjet seemed like such an inaccessible fantasy when you were just starting out as a lowlife vigilante. 

You never would’ve imagined that years later, you would live that very life you’d dreamed of. 

The mission had gone rather smoothly, so smoothly in fact that instead of returning to the tower by late afternoon, you, Walker, and Ava made your way off the jet about twelve hours earlier than expected. 

Since the task had been completed without casualties and was rather inconsequential, Walker decided that the three of you should wait until breakfast for a mission report with the other avengers. 

“Now you can get back to your boyfriend that much faster, you’re welcome,” he had said smugly to you on the way to your quarters. 

You knew exactly who he was talking about. 

While you were still warming up to living with your new somewhat reclusive and impolite roommates, Bob was different. Yes, he was shy, but he did seem to be the most respectful of the bunch. He had his flaws but that didn’t stop him from trying to be a good person, for his new teammates and for himself. 

Out of everyone, he was the one you turned to the most, the one you felt most comfortable with. You could tell he had grown accustomed to you as well, often finding him spending time reading or napping in your room. Of course, you didn’t mind. 

Knowing how tempted he was to rot in his room, you were glad he could find comfort in your space. Occasionally, he gained the motivation to do the dishes or a couple loads of laundry, anything that would give him a sense of accomplishment, and possibly some praise from you. 

“He’s not my boyfriend, Walker,” you said, exhaustedly rolling your eyes before bidding Ava goodnight as she disappeared into her room. 

“Right, he just does chores for you and follows you around like a lost puppy because he’s just a loyal teammate,” Walker sarcastically retorted as he opened his bedroom door, giving you a smirk before he disappeared for the night. 

You ignored his comment as you made your way to your bedroom, stationed farther down the hallway. Passing by Bob’s room, you noticed the door was slightly ajar, the darkness from the room seeping into the dimly lit hallway.

You stopped in your tracks as you tried to peek in the small opening to the room before walking closer, slowly creaking the door wider to see inside. With a quick flick of the lightswitch on the wall next to the door frame, the room illuminated before you to reveal Bob’s empty bed, sheets messy and pillows scattered.

If he wasn’t here, there was only one place he could be. 

You flicked the lightswitch, darkening the room once again before gently pulling the door closed and continuing your way towards your room. 

Bob had slept in your room many times before, but he had never stayed the night. He would nap during the day while you were downstairs training in the gym or in a conference with the team, since he wasn’t quite ready yet to participate.

Occasionally, you would lie next to him as he flipped through a novel, sometimes asleep from the exhaustion of your work as an avenger, other times awake and admiring his concentrated face as he consumed each page with a deep enthusiasm. 

You approached your bedroom door with caution. The door was completely shut, the darkness and utter silence seeped under the door. An image of Bob flashed across your mind — him laying in your bed, his book still open in his hand, his thumb holding his place between the pages, mouth slightly open as his head lay peacefully on your cotton pillowcase.

Half of you wanted to just let him be and just sleep on one of the many couches in the living room, where several pillows and blankets had accumulated from the team’s movie nights.

The other half of you however was so exhausted from your mission and ached to retreat to your own bed that you didn’t mind sharing it, especially with Bob. 

As quiet and gentle as you could be, you twisted the silver door knob and pushed your bedroom room open. The dim hallway light created a small path of sight in front of you, before it was outmatched by the darkness. You quickly tip-toed into the room and closed the door behind you, the faint click barely audible as the door shut completely. 

The rooms in the compound were quite large – with their own personal bathrooms and a good amount of floor space. 

It took you a while to get used to the new layout, but after some time you memorized it enough to navigate your way to your bed in the darkness. There was a small hallway when you first walked in, and as you calmly walked through, you expected to turn and faintly see Bob, illuminated by the faint moonlight shining through your window, completely oblivious to the world as he lay asleep.

But what you actually found when you turned the corner, well, you definitely could not have expected it. 

Splayed across your bed, wearing a black shirt that lay high on his abdomen, exposing his toned abs, and a pair of grey sweatpants that were tugged down almost to his knees. His eyes were shut tight. Not with sleep, but with devoted concentration. 

You froze in place for a moment, before quietly moving to hide behind the corner of the wall, peeking out of the darkness to witness the scene before you. 

His lip was bitten between his teeth, head thrown back as he worked his hand, stroking himself. You noticed something in his hand as you stared, a familiar pair of underwear you hadn’t realized had been missing till now. 

Now that you thought about it, you had been missing quite a few pairs since Bob had started helping you out with your laundry. 

The soft cotton of your white panties wrapped around Bob’s cock was a sight unexpected, but not unwelcome. 

As he lay in your bed, whines slipping through his teeth, bucking into his fist, you stood quietly across the room.

Your thighs squeezed slightly as you watched him, so needy in your own bed, completely unaware you had come back early to catch him so vulnerable. 

His curls had fallen over the beads of sweat on his forehead, and his pace was growing more reckless. He brought his hand that had been grabbing at your comforter to his face, covering his mouth as his moans became harder to stifle. 

You would’ve loved to watch as he made himself come undone in your bed, but where would that leave you? 

Leaving your hiding spot, you stealthily made your way over to your bed. His eyes were still closed tightly, so he didn’t notice your presence until you spoke. 

“So, that’s where those went.” 

His eyes flew open, looking up to see you looking down at him, and he froze. One hand stayed put around his cock, and the other moved to cover as much of his face as possible, hiding his utter embarrassment. 

“Oh– I’m sorry – I-” 

Bob had no idea how to explain himself. 

Yes, he had been sleeping in your room while you were away on missions. His room was just too lonely and your bed smelt like you. He just felt so much more comfortable surrounded by everything that reminded him of your presence even when you weren’t there. 

Yes, he had taken a few pairs of your underwear from your laundry. He didn’t want to seem weird, he was so afraid of scaring you off. He just wanted . . . some material, and surely you wouldn’t notice just a couple items going missing, right? 

And yes, he had been . . . relieving himself in your room. Again, it smelt so much like you. He had already spent a majority of his time there. He was just too nervous to tell you how he really felt about you, how much he really needed you, craved you even.  He made sure his visits were completely undetectable afterwards, and he always locked the door. Almost always, anyway.  

He was mortified. The one time he realized he forgot to lock the door, there you were, staring down at him in his most vulnerable moment. 

Your hand threaded through his brown locks as you looked down at him. He peeked between his fingers to watch your face – you didn’t seem that upset. 

Your pupils were dilated as your eyes scanned over him, stopping to watch his still hand around himself, before looking back up to meet his eyes. 

“Can I help with that?” 

His eyes grew wide as he groaned, his shoulders dropping their tense stance as his hand dragged down his face, “Please.” 

You motioned for him to scoot over, as he quickly scrambled to give you room. He watched with wide, anticipating eyes as you climbed onto the bed with him, laying directly to the side of him.

With one hand, you turned his chin towards yours, and encapsulated him in a kiss. 

The kiss was smooth, soft, yet he almost embarrassingly whined into your mouth. He finally had a taste of you, and it would be impossible for him to let go. 

His free hand pulled you closer from the back of your neck, as you reached down blindly and replaced his other hand with yours. 

As your thumb carefully brushed over his tip, he moaned through your lips. You kept moving your thumb in slow circles, and he had completely fallen apart. His head dropped into the crook of your neck, attempting to hide his flushed face and you kept working your hand so perfectly around him, especially with your own panties now in your grasp. 

You felt his breathy moans against the skin of your neck as he tried to bury himself into you, tugging you as close as possible as he moved his arm around your waist, bucking into your hand. 

His moans turned into whines as he grew more sensitive by the second, and it wasn’t long before he gently bit into your neck, and spilled all over your fist. He could’ve melted into you as he came, having never felt so blissful in his life. His hips kept shaking until he stilled, no longer able to handle the overstimulation. 

Reaching over to your bedside table, you pulled a couple tissues from their box and gently cleaned him up, as well as your hands, before tossing your panties across the room into your laundry basket.

You admired his face for a moment, eyes closed and mouth left slightly open, as his head lay back against your pillow, before carefully tugging up his boxers as his sweats. 

You thought he had already fallen asleep, as his chest was steadily falling and rising with every breath, however when you went to rest by his side, his arms wrapped around you and pulled you close, resting his chin on the top of your head as you smiled into his chest, a bit more thankful that he’d been doing your laundry.

~~~

[bluehoodiewoozi]

Fools in Love

Kim Mingyu x fem!Reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff

Words: 10.5k

Warnings: adult language. mentions of stalking (no one’s actually stalked). reader has a lot of conflicting feelings and it takes her three to five business days to figure everything out.

[UNI AU] When Jeonghan made you declare a stranger in the library your new boyfriend, you had a very different outcome in your mind.

Note: for some reason, my bestie @luvlino really liked this fic as a WIP and I promised to finish it for her eventually, so here we are. anyways, we've been referring to this fic as "himbo!gyu" all this time

You should’ve known it wouldn’t end well. 

The first sign should have been the shiver up your spine when Jeonghan’s lips quirked into a smile that you knew far too well. The second sign should have definitely been your voice of reasons cursing and hatching ridiculously elaborate escape plans. 

He leaned forward against the table between you two, maintaining eye contact. “So what do you say?”

“Sorry,” you blinked and shook your head, “I wasn’t paying attention. What were you saying?”

Jeonghan clicked his tongue. “Of course you weren’t.”

“When is she ever?” Joshua half-joked, nose deep in an oddly specific magazine he’d picked up in a procrastination daze. He looked up briefly to give you a once over before humming to himself, “Honestly, it might be for the better.”

“As I was saying,” Jeonghan glared at Joshua before offering you a sickeningly sweet smile – and there was that shiver up your spine again –, “go up to pretty boy over there and tell him he’s your boyfriend now.”

“I don’t even like him,” you muttered, glancing at the boy as discreetly as you could. You almost bit your tongue at your hasty words because the slight furrow of his brow and his jawline had your heart screeching. You frowned, head whipping back to look at Jeonghan. “Wait, what’s in it for me?”

If his wide eyes were anything to go by, he was as clueless as you were. With a sheepish shrug, he offered, “I’ll buy you a candy bar? You like Snickers, right?”

You stared at him in wonder for a while but were soon interrupted by Joshua’s scandalised gasp. “Is it because Snickers is on sale at the convenience store this week?” 

Jeonghan blinked slowly. “Why else?”

Your gaze drifted back to the mysterious student sitting across the library, now scribbling notes in his iPad between puzzled head-scratches. The part of you that wanted to say ‘fuck it’ and go through with the dare was growing by the second.

But before you could agree, the dad friend of the group finally decided to speak up. Seungcheol placed a hand on your shoulder and looked you right in the eyes. “You do know that you don’t have to agree to every bet Jeonghan gives you, right? Please tell me that you know that.”

Seeing the worry in his eyes, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you were starting to develop a gambling problem with the help of Yoon Jeonghan. But what’s one more bet anyway?

“One Snickers bar?” you repeated back and Jeonghan nodded. Your eyes narrowed. “Make it three and a can of cola.”

He had the audacity to gasp. “That’s robbery!”

“Not if you’re the one paying,” Joshua pointed out rather off-handedly, still more focused on his magazine. (You took a moment to identify the issue in his hands as ‘Practical Sheep, Goats and Alpacas’ and once again wondered how you became friends with this gem of a human.)

Jeonghan grumbled, slumping in his seat. “Fine. Three Snickers bars and a can of cola, but you have to go up to him and tell him he’s your boyfriend now and then walk away like nothing happened.”

“Bet.”

Beside you, Seungcheol sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I should’ve just joined the Italians for that group project back in the first year. Why did I choose you idiots instead of the Italians?”

“You love us.” Jeonghan winked. He then slumped in his seat, a soft pout on his lips. “By the way, speaking of the Italians, I found one of the girls crying last night.”

“Crying? Why?” you wondered. “Was she okay?”

“Apparently her boyfriend broke up with her, over text no less,” Jeonghan sighed, filled with compassion as always. “She looked really heartbroken. I had to comfort her for hours.”

Joshua frowned. “So that’s where you were.”

“Did you find out who the jerk was?” Seungcheol asked. “You should’ve at least gone and given him a good slap upside the head.”

“Kim Mingyu. That’s the jerk’s name.”

Seungcheol grimaced. “That guy deserves even worse. I swear there seems to be another heartbreak with his name written all over it every three days.”

“Well, anyways!” Jeonghan cheered up again, clapping his hands together excitedly. “You get to be the heartbreaker today, oh my dear (Y/n).”

“When are you going up to him then?” Joshua wondered, setting his magazine aside as curiosity took over. For someone claiming to be well-mannered, he sure loved any implications of impending drama. “I’m not sure how long he’ll stay cooped up in here.”

You rolled your eyes and got up, grabbing your bag and phone. “I’m going now and leaving you guys behind.”

“Oh, right!” Seungcheol smiled. “You said you’re going plant shopping, right?”

“Plant shopping?!” screeched Jeonghan, clearly caught unaware. “Don’t you already have, like, three plants?”

“I don’t have a neon pothos yet,” you reasoned timidly. Joshua nodded in approval as Seungcheol watched you with a fond smile, much resembling a proud father. 

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow before turning to Seungcheol. “And you’re telling me that I am a bad influence on her?”

“I’m going!” you called out softly, slow steps leading you away from the four-seat table in the art section of the library. You watched warily as the boys argued between themselves. “Guys?”

“– and just the other day you told her to –” Seungcheol interrupted himself with a cough to offer you a bright smile, silently asking you what you needed.

“I’m leaving,” you whispered theatrically loudly and nodded towards the mysterious stranger in front of whom you were about to make a fool out of yourself. 

As always, Jeonghan was the first to catch on. He offered a wink. “Good luck, baby.”

You felt your lunch crawl up your throat at the nickname and the suddenly wide eyes of Joshua told you he felt the same way. You shook it off and headed towards the exit.

On the way out of the building, you took a deep breath and stopped in front of your victim’s desk. Feeling like a middle-schooler preparing to recite a poem by heart, you clasped your hands in front of your body and cleared your throat.

At the sudden interruption, the handsome man glanced up, eyes wide in surprise. He mirrored your smile, setting his pen aside as he waited for you to speak.

You didn’t need to look back to feel Jeonghan’s and Joshua’s curious stares on you. But you were nothing if not a good sport, so you forced your smile to brighten a little bit more before looking the man in his eyes and announcing, “As of right now, you are my boyfriend.”

If you hadn’t been the cause of it, the sudden drop of his jaw and the bulging of his eyes would have amused you beyond human comprehension. But unlike Jeonghan and Joshua, you did have an ounce of dignity and compassion, so you offered one last smile before scurrying out of the library.

As you set foot outside the library, you left behind a confused man and a half-hearted promise.

You spent the rest of the week praying and hoping and praying again that you wouldn’t run into the tall mysterious stranger who had become your friends’ newest inside joke. So far, you've been successful.

“Here,” Jeonghan slammed three Snickers bars down on your desk on Monday and sighed, “your payment.”

Your eyes naturally fell into a suspicious squint. “Where’s the cola?”

Jeonghan offered a tight-lipped smile and a pat on your shoulder. “Jihoon needs it more than you do. Think of the children, Y/n.”

You failed to see how Lee Jihoon who had just three days ago publicly threatened to choke Kwon Soonyoung with his freshly broken guitar string could be considered a child, but you assumed there was a good reason. So you decided to let it slide just this once (or at least until Joshua would feel bad for you and buy you the cola himself).

Until then, you would take what you could get. 

Frankly, by this point, you were starting to forget about the library incident. It was just a bet like every other. This was no different from the time when Jeonghan dared you to guilt-trip Seungcheol into giving you his favourite hoodie. 

Except when you caught the eye of a handsome stranger as he walked into the classroom, you knew that was about to change. His lips slowly curved into a smile and you just knew that this was the end of your life as you knew it.

Instinctively, you shuffled around to make yourself seem as small and insignificant as possible. The ceiling looked far more attractive than ever before while you hoped that maybe this man had terrible eyesight and he’d mistake you for part of the furniture. Or maybe he’d at least buy into the idea that it had been a different girl who harassed him at the library.

“I knew I recognized you from somewhere,” the man spoke a bit too smugly as he approached the desk you and Jeonghan had chosen for the lecture. His smile brightened even more. “I guess I’m your boyfriend now.”

But before you could protest or even comprehend what was happening, he winked and headed further back into the classroom. When you glanced over your shoulder, you found him sitting next to Jeon Wonwoo, a smile on his face. He offered you one last (and, in your opinion, excessive) wink before turning back to his seatmate.

You turned to glare at Jeonghan who looked just as baffled as you felt. Under your threatening stare, his silence slowly turned into nervous laughter. “Well… That was not the outcome I expected…”

“Oh, it wasn’t?” you couldn’t help but bite back before groaning and hiding your face in your hands. “Has he been in this class this whole time?”

“I guess he always sits towards the back,” Jeonghan concluded slowly, “so we wouldn’t have seen him but he would have seen us.”

You wished he’d come to that conclusion a few days earlier. “You owe me that cola and then some more, Yoon.”

Sitting across from you at the little campus cafe, Joshua shared a glance with Seungcheol. The latter shrugged so he decided he had to be the one to take action. 

“So,” he started somewhat hesitantly, fully aware of what an angry you was capable of, “do you want to tell us what happened?”

“What do you mean?” you feigned ignorance all the while aggressively stirring your soup of the day. “Nothing interesting ever happens here.”

Thoroughly unconvinced, Seungcheol raised an eyebrow. “Sure.”

“I think something happened in class today,” Joshua elaborated slowly. It was only then that you remembered he had taken a fair share of psychology classes. “Do you want to talk about it? Was it Jeonghan again?”

As both a surprise and the expected outcome, you slammed your spoon on the table. “That jerk! Do you know what he did?”

Joshua’s almost failed attempt to swallow down a sarcastic comment could be seen by any bystander but you paid it no mind.

“Do you remember the guy from the library? You know, the one.”

“The tall guy?” Seungcheol wondered. You nodded. “I remember him.”

“Turns out he’s in our literature class!” You clapped your hands together in a fit of rage. “And now I have to spend the rest of the semester in the same room as him every Monday.”

Joshua blinked. “That doesn’t seem too bad.”

“He winked at me today. Twice. And he kept smiling at me too.”

“Oh.” Joshua tried to find a different word of comfort. He was out of words for the day. Perhaps his last psychology essay had really stolen half his personal dictionary. “That’s… rough, buddy.”

“Speaking of the devil,” Seungcheol whispered so faintly you barely heard. He glanced towards the door and surely enough, as if he’d heard your words in the wind, the man of the hour walked into the cafe. 

You almost swooned at the way his shirt rode up a little as he stretched his arms up and at the smile and friendly greeting he offered the cashier. His voice soon filled the cafe with a sense of warmth, like he belonged right there. 

“Busy day?” you heard him as the cashier as he made his way behind the counter. “Lots of customers today?”

The cashier chuckled. “Nothing more than usual. They’re your customers now though.”

You turned to Joshua and Seungcheol again, hiding your face behind your strategically placed menu. “He works here?!”

“Listen, I was not any wiser than you,” Joshua justified with wide and apologetic eyes. “Maybe he won’t recognize you.”

“I’m highly doubtful,” Seungcheol pointed out rather lazily, leaning his head against the cool glass of the window. “He’s recognized her once, what’s a few more times?”

You were deeply grateful for the silence that took over afterwards, happily ignoring the silent conversation of blinks and nudges your two friends were having. You lifted your hood up and stirred your soup a few more times before taking your first spoonful – the sooner you start, the sooner you finish, and the sooner you can leave this personal hell of yours to hide in your bedroom.

“Well, I think Cheol had a point in that,” Joshua suddenly whispered, nudging your leg under the table. For once, you had no intention to look up.

With a soft clink, a plate was placed on the table. You found a piece of the cake of the day in front of you and glanced up. The ‘boyfriend’ offered you a wide smile and nodded to your food. “Eat well. Cake’s on the house for you, sweetheart.”

Without another word, he shuffled back to the counter and resumed his task of re-organizing the cake display. 

“...Did that just happen?” Seungcheol wondered, eyeing your cake in a way that made you wary with good reason. “And can I please have a bite?”

You blinked and pushed the plate towards your friend. His smile lit up the room as he reached for a spoon and began munching away. When you glanced towards the counter again, you found your ‘boyfriend’ watching you with a sweet smile, a puzzled look in his eyes and a puppy-like curious tilt to his head. 

Promptly you made the decision to avoid this cafe at all costs.

The mysterious boy who hadn’t existed to you just a week ago suddenly seemed to be following you around like a shadow. He was everywhere you went. It almost felt like a bad dream.

He had already chewed you out of your favourite cafe and now he seemed determined to make it so there was nowhere you could go in peace.

You’d go to class, and 6 out of 10 times he was there too, already nose-deep in his notes at the back of the classroom. There was nowhere you could sit to hide from the glint of recognition in his eyes and the charmingly bright smile he directed your way each time.

You’d go to the grocery store and voila! He was there! Picking out watermelons like he knew exactly what he was doing (you were fairly sure he didn’t because, honestly, who even knows how to pick out watermelons?).

You’d go to the park across the street from the dorms and turn back on your heel because he was, once again, there, flexing his muscles as he warmed up for a run with his fratboy friends. 

“I honestly think you’re being a little bit overdramatic,” Jeonghan told you softly as you attempted to hide behind a bookshelf at the library. You paid him no mind.

The mysterious ‘boyfriend’ was here as well. You had almost betrayed yourself and squeaked when you recognized him reading a book synopsis right next to you.

“Maybe he’s stalking me. Maybe that’s why he’s always exactly where I am,” you theorised while watching him like a hawk from your hiding spot. Jeonghan leaned his head out of the shadows to take a good look at the boy but you harshly pulled him back to hiding by his collar. 

You glared at your friend before whispering, “You’ll get us caught like this, idiot!”

He raised an unimpressed brow. “Are you sure he’s the one stalking you and not the other way around?”

“I– That’s impossible! Who do you think I am?!” You so wished to curse him out but you still had some manners left. You scoffed. “Just shut up and let me suffer in peace.”

When you turned back to watch the mysterious guy, however, your soul almost left your body. He was right there –  right in front of you, leaning against the bookshelf – smiling at you like it was the most natural thing. 

“Hi,” he spoke. You wished his voice wasn’t so enjoyably husky. 

You offered a tight-lipped smile, hand already reaching for Jeonghan’s sleeve to drag him out of the library and give him another earful for putting you in this situation. “Hi.”

It was hard to tell which was worse: the adorable smile the stranger offered you at your reply or the judgmental glare of Jeonghan which told you that your voice had betrayed you once again. You were doomed either way.

“I just realised we see each other so often but I don’t even know your name,” the stranger spoke and he seemed almost shy with the way he fiddled with the string of his black hoodie. 

Before you could open your mouth to either tell him to leave or tell him a random name you came up with on the spot, Jeonghan jumped into the conversation a bit too enthusiastically, “I’m Jeonghan! This is my best friend, (Y/n). Please take good care of her for me. I have to go help my friend get his cat out of the oven.”

And just like that you had lost another friend. You’d be sure to tell Seungcheol about this to make his disappearance official. Traitors were not welcome in your group.

“Your name’s pretty,” the stranger told you softly, still fiddling and looking down at his sneakers. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he actually had a crush on you. “Pretty like you are.” He cleared his throat and looked at you once again, forcing a wide smile. “I’m Kim Mingyu.”

It took every ounce of muscle control and brain power you had left not to let your jaw drop. 

“What?!” Seungcheol screeched before glaring at Jeonghan like he’d just been caught in the act of murdering a beloved family pet. “You little– You set her up with a frat boy!”

Jeonghan saw no problem with it. “I’m pretty sure you almost became a frat boy, Cheol.”

“That’s different!” 

“And Joshua was literally in a frat until this year!”

Joshua did not appreciate his name being brought into this conversation. He rolled his eyes before offering you a look that told you that he blamed you for all of this. “You do realise I left the frat for a reason, right?”

“Yes, we know,” Jeonghan waved his protests away off-handedly, “you got caught making out with the president’s girl. Nothing to brag about.”

You could barely hold your laugh as Joshua’s jaw dropped, scandalised and exasperated. “Where did that rumour even come from?! Seriously! That is not what happened!”

“Eh, close enough.” Jeonghan shrugged. “Anyways, how was I supposed to know that guy was the Kim Mingyu? It’s not like he wears a name tag! None of you could recognize him either.”

A moment of realisation dawned on you. You let out a soft cry. “Dude, he sat with Jeon Wonwoo. Who else could he have been?”

“Wonwoo’s pretty okay though,” Joshua pointed out. “Not sure about Mingyu.”

“Didn’t Mingyu date like 30 girls just last semester? They say he’s sort of crazy about women or something. Falls in love too quickly.” Seungcheol sighed before glaring at Jeonghan. “You couldn’t have picked literally anyone else?”

“Who?” Jeonghan scoffed. “Joshua? You?”

“The fact that those are the only other options you saw is really concerning,” you mumbled while hiding your face in your hands.

Of course your luck had gotten you entangled in a situation with the university’s biggest womaniser. You were Screwed with a capital S.

“Just avoid him,” Seungcheol had drilled into your head that evening. “Avoid him and don’t look him in the eyes. Just walk in the opposite direction if you see him. Do not let him speak to you or you’ll fall into his trap.”

You leaned against the wall in front of the locked lecture hall door, lost in your thoughts. The laptop in your hands offered a nice grounding weight to remind you to not float too far away, but it didn’t seem to be enough.

Perhaps you should’ve found it amusing that your best friends were treating this guy as some sort of a mythical creature – a siren of some sort that could charm people into a relationship with a smile and two words. But you were more annoyed than anything.

How could this guy appear everywhere you went all the while offering you wide smiles! He seemed less harmful than a golden retriever puppy when he smiled and it annoyed you to no end. Perhaps you were more of a cat person… 

“Hi!” 

You almost jumped in your spot. Your lungs filled with air and your heart rate picked up immensely; it felt like you were coming back to life with the scare. With a wary tightening of your grip you made sure you hadn’t dropped your laptop. 

Who in the hell–

“Damn it,” you cursed under your breath when you caught his eyes. By now you could recognize the chocolate-like shade of them anywhere. Remembering Seungcheol’s words, you quickly looked away and spoke no more.

Mingyu continued smiling at you – he always did – and spoke, “Did you sleep well last night? Have you had breakfast?”

A part of you felt bad for ignoring his caring questions. But feeling bad about this was better than getting scolded by Seungcheol… Mingyu could survive a one-sided conversation.

“Here,” he spoke again, his voice soon followed by plastic crinkling.

You felt the wrapper of a candy bar press against the back of your hand. It was impossible to ignore and so you opened your hand. A Snickers bar. 

Looking up at him was your next mistake. You swear your heart malfunctioned when his smile widened a little. The twinkle in his eyes showed how proud he was of himself before his words could. “I bought it for you. I saw your friend give you three of those, like, weeks ago, so I figured…” He shrugged and looked away shyly. “I figured you might like it.”

Speaking was your second mistake that day. “I do. Thank you.”

The wide smile he offered in return would be engraved into your memory for weeks to come. “So you do speak!” 

You realised your error then and there. Awkwardly clearing your throat, you looked up and down the hallway. “You thought I couldn’t?”

“Well, no,” Mingyu hummed. “It’s just that you’ve never spoken to me since that day at the library and I was getting worried.” He smiled again. “I like your voice. It suits you well.”

You nodded in acknowledgment, fingers grasping the candy bar and your laptop a bit tighter as you willed this interaction to end. Except a part of you – a stupid, dumb, hopelessly romantic part – didn’t want it to end yet. And so, you spoke again, “I didn’t realise you took this class too.”

“I had an annoying free slot in my timetable this semester, so I decided to sign up,” he told you easily, already moving to lean against the wall as well, positioning himself right next to you and just close enough for comfort. “It’s quite fun.”

“The professor’s great. Though the assignments–”

“Annoying, right?” he interjected with an annoyed groan and you couldn’t help but agree. “I mean, weekly reading diaries? 40 pages to read each week? Why?”

“The formatting is so dumb too,” you added. “It always takes me at least thirty minutes just to make sure it’s the correct format and reference style.”

Mingyu nodded enthusiastically. “I almost regret taking this class because of the stupid assignment formatting alone.” 

You weren’t prepared for how your heart skipped a small beat at his next words. 

“But seeing you here makes it a lot better.”

You decided to not tell your friends about the interaction. It was better this way. You could keep a secret from them. Easy-peasy. 

It had already been an entire day and they had no idea. You could easily do this forever.

“You’re hiding something from us,” Seungcheol concluded just thirty seconds after you sat down across from him at the library. You gulped. “I don’t like this.”

Abandoning his magazine, Joshua raised an eyebrow, eyeing Seungcheol weirdly between curious glances at you. “How do you know?”

“I know my friends very well,” the oldest replied – his voice a pitch lower than usual to prove a point – and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, “and I know my friends would never ever lie to me or hide something from me.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, an arm wrapping around your anxiously shaky shoulders. “Does she look like a liar to you, Cheol? She’s not the lying type. Oh.” He offered you a worried look. “Are you cold? You’re shaking. Do want me to–”

“I knew it!” Seungcheol slammed his hands onto the table loudly enough to gain the attention of the entire student body at the library at that moment. You could not have felt more ashamed, but he seemed unbothered. 

He practically hissed at you. “What aren’t you telling us? What’s so bad that you can’t tell us about it?”

“Wait, you’re actually hiding something?” Joshua caught on, gasping. “Seriously?” He leaned forward immediately, chest pressed against wood as he practically lied on top of the desk, barely inches from your face. “What is it?”

“You can tell us, you know,” Jeonghan softly told you. It was in these rare moments that you remembered why Jeonghan was your best friend among these three. “We’re not gonna be mad.”

But oh how wrong he was.

“I–” You took a deep breath under their curious gazes. “I might have spoken to Mingyu yesterday.”

“Might have?” Joshua sighed softly and fell back into his chair in defeat. “Great. So in (Y/n) language that means you had a heart-to-heart in front of the anthropology lecture room.”

You were a little concerned that he could read you that well.

“It’s not that bad,” Jeonghan defended you, almost offended on your behalf. “Why would she–” His eyes narrowed at the candy wrapper still peeking out from your pocket. He sighed right after and almost broke his chair with how heavily he leaned back into it. “Did he give you food? You spoke to him in exchange for food?”

Seungcheol caught your eye and looked like he wanted to slam his head against the wall. “(Y/n), what did we talk about last time?”

“You told me to avoid him,” you whispered shamefully.

“Right. I did. Because men are wolves and Kim Mingyu is the worst of them all.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, eyes crinkling shut. “You’re gonna get your heart broken so bad, my dear.”

“He honestly doesn’t seem so bad though,” you pointed out after a pause of silence. “He’s pretty nice.”

“That is–” Joshua sighed deeply before letting out a sound akin to a sob. “That is exactly the problem. He’s too nice. He’s nice to all the girls and they all fall for him and he falls for them and then the perfect daydream is crushed and they break up and he moves onto the next girl that catches his eye. You’re going to get your heart broken like this.”

Seungcheol had now leaned his face onto the desk, forehead pressed against his textbook. “I’d honestly rather you dated Wonwoo. That guy at least doesn’t have commitment issues.”

“Who has commitment issues?” a familiar husky voice spoke from the side. 

The four of you collectively jumped and stared at the source of the sound. Kim Mingyu, standing at the end of your four-seat desk with an awkward smile and a small pink bento box in hand. 

“You– What are you doing here?” Jeonghan sputtered, hand reaching for yours protectively under the desk – a subconscious attempt to ground and comfort you.

Mingyu held up the container in his hand before sliding it over to you. He gave you an affectionate pat on the head before telling you, “I made you lunch. Figured you might need it with all the studying you have planned for today. I’m cheering for you! You’ll nail this assignment!”

Without another word – but not without one last shy yet charming sweet smile on his way out after he almost tripped over the carpet – he left you be. The food container remained in front of you. 

Joshua stared at the box for a moment, mouth agape. “He brought you food?”

“How did he even know you’d be here?” Seungcheol wondered while scratching his head in thought. “Does he really stalk you?”

“No, but… I might have let it slip yesterday that I would be studying all day with you guys,” you mumbled and reached for the bento box somewhat sheepishly. 

You barely managed to reach to open it before Seungcheol slid it away from you and opened it himself. The smell of warm homemade food filled the room. 

Seungcheol glared at you when you tried to move to get your food back. He slid it further from your reach and picked up the chopsticks placed into the box. “I’m eating it. You don’t deserve to eat after what you’ve done.”

“He literally brought this for me though?” you grumbled but relented and leaned back into your seat. 

You watched enviously as Seungcheol fed a bite to Joshua and the latter moaned in delight. “Oh my god, this is amazing. Wow. Is this homemade?”

“It sure looks like it,” Seungcheol sighed and offered you another glare before sliding the box closer to you again. “You’re so lucky I love you.” 

You cheered quietly – you wouldn’t go hungry this time.

It seemed that Mingyu’s boldness dialled up by one notch every week. 

Gone were the days when you’d go to class on Mondays, fearing (read: hoping) he’d meet your eyes and smile at you as he walked to the back of the class. 

You came to the realisation as both you and Jeonghan stared at him on this Monday morning. 

Softly gasping for air but still carrying an air of nonchalant pride that seemed to follow him everywhere, Kim Mingyu slumped into the otherwise free seat on your other side. He let out a groan and leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

“God, I hate the stairs,” he eventually sighed before straightening up again and offering you a small smile. “Hi.”

You looked at him, glanced back at where Wonwoo was seated – nose deep in his Macbook, a little too deep in the day’s readings –, and back at him. Jeonghan did the same. You shared a look. Then, you turned to Mingyu and asked, “Are you okay?”

Both he and Jeonghan seemed baffled by your question. But whereas Jeonghan’s confusion could be described as “that is not what we discussed, girl??”, Mingyu's seemed to be more joyous.

His smile brightened just a bit. “Yeah,” he breathed out, “I’m just scared of elevators.”

Not what you had asked for, but you decided you’d take it.

“You climbed up the stairs?” Jeonghan wondered, eyes widening by the second. “Five floors?”

“The elevator is terrifying, okay?” Mingyu whined and rested his head on your shoulder. 

You barely noticed the gesture, instinctually leaning your head to rest on his. It was only Jeonghan’s disbelieving glare that seemed to snap you out of whatever Mingyu-induced daze you were in.

You startled back upright, surprising Mingyu who straightened up as well, head whipping around to find whatever had scared you so. When he found nothing even remotely threatening, he blinked in surprise. “What was that?”

Under Jeonghan’s amused stare, you cleared your throat and feigned nonchalance. “What was what?”

“That– You– I– You–” Mingyu stuttered almost frantically, unable to find the words. You decided he was rather cute after all. 

No, dumbass. You had made a promise to Seungcheol – no boyfriends, especially ones named Kim Mingyu. You shook your head to remind yourself of that when you almost drowned into the browns of his confused eyes. 

“I think the lack of oxygen is getting to you,” Jeonghan decided to save you this time. He leaned his head on his hand propped up on the desk. When you and your “boyfriend” looked at him weird, he shrugged. “He climbed up five floors. His poor brain’s probably on the verge of dying.”

While you thought it was ridiculous, the half-assed explanation seemed to fit Mingyu’s logic just fine.

“Well, there does tend to be less oxygen up high,” Mingyu agreed, eyes narrowing in thought and head nodding along. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

It didn’t make sense but you weren’t in any mood to explain the modern wonder of air conditioning and ventilation to this poor guy yet. Maybe on your fifth date. 

Wait–

Before you could gather your thoughts, the professor cleared her throat and began the lecture. All eyes were on her – for the first two minutes anyway. 

But you were still perplexed. Had you just really considered – even in a roundabout way – actually dating Kim Mingyu? You glanced to your left; he sat right there, pretty brown eyes fully focused on the lecturer, his fingers tapping away at the keyboard… The warm lights of the lecture hall seemed to make him glow. 

Ethereal. Breathtaking. His jawline must’ve been sculpted by the gods themselves.

No wonder all the girls fell for him.

As you were about to shake that thought from your head, you felt Jeonghan lean closer to you. Your heart stopped as you felt his breath on your ear. He whispered, “Don’t let Seungcheol find out about your crush.”

Gritting your teeth, you considered your options: 

a) You could pretend you didn’t hear him – he’d never let you live it down though.

b) You could just shrug it off and act like he was dumb for even suggesting you’d have a crush on a heartbreaker like Kim Mingyu – but he knew you better than that and you’d be caught in a lie.

c) “He won’t find out if you don’t tell him,” you whispered back, glaring at him over your back. 

Jeonghan’s lips curved into an amused smirk, his brow quirking up. “Yeah? And how do you know I won’t tell him your little secret?”

“Because if you do, I’ll tell him it was you who’s been sneaking expensive drinks on our pub bills.”He paled immediately – option c: success.

As you walked to class on Thursday, you decided to stop acting like you disliked Mingyu. 

Coming to terms with your crush had taken a few mental breakdowns and a few too many crying-emoji-filled messages to Jeonghan over the last two days. It was a small price to pay.

For the first time since that fateful day at the library, you approached him first. You headed straight towards the lecture room, beelined straight for him – leaned against the wall, reading something off his phone –, and offered him a friendly smile. “Hi.”

He looked up immediately – with such force that you worried his neck would snap – and mirrored your smile. You had to hold back from swooning; god, he really did look like a golden retriever puppy. 

“Hi,” he replied and locked his phone, hiding it in his back pocket and reaching for your hand on instinct. Unfortunately, you hadn’t come to terms with your crush that much yet, and so you hid your hands behind your back. He seemed to take the hint just fine.

His smile never disappeared as he watched you, seeming to almost adore you just for standing in front of him. “Something feels different today,” he finally mentioned. “I like it.”

“Yeah?” You laughed.

“Yeah,” he nodded decisively, and you felt proud for doing something to brighten his day, only for your heart to skip a beat at his next words, “you should smile more often.”

“I– What?”

His grin widened. “You almost never smile at me. But you’re smiling today. I like that.”

If you hadn’t decided to just accept your new-found crush earlier, you sure would have now. 

His ears burned red – as you felt yours must have been – and he cleared his throat while bashfully looking at the ground. He bounced in his spot for a moment before asking, “Did you eat yet?”

“Had a granola bar on the way here,” you confessed shamefully after a moment of thought. “In my defence, I almost missed my bus.”

“Same here,” he laughed, glancing up again. He hesitated only for a moment before suggesting, “Do you want to come to the cafe with me after the class?” When you didn’t immediately answer – too busy trying to figure out if this was real or you had developed a very bad case of hallucinations – he softly added, "I could get you cheesecake for free.”

And just like that you were ready to marry this man. Seungcheol, Joshua and Jeonghan could eat dirt – they were probably just jealous that you were getting someone’s attention and they were sad unlovable loners. Yeah, that was definitely it. No other reason why they’d try to prevent you from falling in love with this wonderful guy who was promising you free cheesecake.

“I’d love that,” you replied with a bright smile. 

Exactly two hours later, you found yourself in a booth at the café you had previously sworn to boycott, sitting across from the very reason you had declared your boycott to begin with. Life is strange, you concluded, but found yourself unable to look away from him.

“Cheesecake for the lady,” Mingyu smiled proudly as he presented the plate to you. Seeing your thankful and excited smile, he winked, “I made sure to get you the biggest slice they had.”

You could’ve kissed him on the mouth for that comment alone.

“So,” he began as the two of you settled further into your seats, getting more comfortable, “what’s your major?”

You didn’t hesitate to answer his question before shooting back, “And you?”

“Graphic design,” he told you with a shrug. “It was either that or business.”

“Nice,” you nodded along though you were unable to find any further words. You silently cursed yourself for being so damn awkward with strangers. Did Mingyu even count as a stranger? Was he your friend? An acquaintance? Your boyfriend?

He seemed to sense your internal turmoil, reaching a hand over the table to hold yours. “Are you always this awkward with people?”

“Only at the beginning,” you confessed and felt his fingers tighten around yours in a comforting manner. “I promise I’m not usually this boring.”

“I mean,” he chuckled, “you seemed rather bold at the library that day. I thought that confidence carried over into other situations.”

“Only occasionally.”

But he didn’t seem to mind. “That’s okay. I like a challenge anyway.”

It was your turn to laugh. “Yeah? Then how come you’re not a challenge yourself?”

“What do you mean?” His ears burned a shameful red again. 

“Any normal guy would’ve acted like nothing happened,” you told him. “But you started getting me snacks and making small talk in front of the lecture hall.”

The red of his ears got darker by the second. But he cleared his throat and shrugged almost bashfully. “Can you blame me? It’s not every day a pretty girl tells me to be her boyfriend.”

Your breath hitched. “You think I’m pretty?”

“The prettiest,” he confessed with a shy smile and your heart was completely spoken for.

You had one single duty to your friends: to always tell the truth. As much as it pained you, you had to tell them about Mingyu. 

Because, for one, Seungcheol wouldn’t stop asking about him. 

And, for two, because you had learnt there was no use lying to them because they each seemed to have a built-in lie detector. 

But coming to terms with your inability to lie to your three friends came with horrible consequences.

And by consequences, you meant Seungcheol and Joshua grilling you about your relationship with Mingyu as if you had committed a crime most vile, complete with Jeonghan viewing the interrogation from the sofa with a bowl of popcorn.

“It wasn’t a date,” you tried to defend yourself. “We just went to the café after the lecture.”

“Yeah, the café,” Joshua emphasised as you stared at him dumbly, “the place where couples go on first dates.”

“It wasn’t a date,” you repeated yourself with a sigh. “It was just coffee and a slice of cake.”

Seungcheol paced around on the rug, already wearing holes into his dark socks. He ran a hand through his hair before pointing at Jeonghan. “You; you’re planning a first date with your crush. Where do you take them?”

Your head immediately snapped to glare at Jeonghan, daring him to say as much as a word – you knew exactly where this was going. He responded with a mischievous smile and you turned to scream into a cushion before he could even open his mouth.

Fortunately, Jeonghan was a nice friend and patiently waited for your screaming to stop before answering in a clear voice, “To the campus café to get coffee and a slice of their favourite cake.”

You threw the cushion right at his head. He only laughed.

Seungcheol, as if unaware of Jeonghan’s very clear plot against you, gestured widely before glaring at you. “Do you see my point?”

“It was not a date–”  you began again, perhaps hoping that repeating the sentence enough times would make the guys magically believe you and forget the argument. But your speech was interrupted by the unmistakable ringtone off your phone. 

You checked your pockets but it wasn’t there. Instead, to your horror, you found that Joshua had it right there, in the palm of his hand. He eyed it suspiciously before looking up to smirk at you. “Loverboy doesn’t seem to think so though.”

Your heart sank and soared at the same time. 

Mingyu said it was a date? Fuck. Now you had lost your only argument. 

On the other hand… Mingyu thought it was a date? Aw.

That latter thought seemed to betray you to Seungcheol. His glare hardened. “(Y/n)!”

“Okay, so it was a date!” you burst before sighing and curling into yourself on the armchair. “Is it a crime to date? Is it that bad that I like someone?”

Your question was met with a softening gaze. Whether it was your words or something else about your behaviour, the three seemed to suddenly become guilty and remorseful. 

“No, it’s– You– I–” Seungcheol stuttered to find the words. His posture had suddenly sunk from big and intimidating to tiny and slumped. He exchanged worried glances with your other two friends before letting out a soft whine and stumbling over the carpet to hug you to his chest. “It’s not bad that you like someone. Of course you can date whoever you want.”

“Just not Mingyu?” you scoffed but made no move to leave his embrace. His stubborn personality and overprotective nature be damned, but he gave the best and warmest hugs you had ever experienced. You doubted anyone could give better hugs. 

He sighed. “I– Don’t make me feel bad about this. God, I can’t do this–”

“We just don't want you to get hurt,” Joshua took over, reaching over to pat your head. “Mingyu kind of has a reputation.”

“I don't think he does it on purpose though,” you mumbled.

“I don’t either,” Joshua hummed, “but the fact is that he leaves a trail of broken hearts wherever he goes. He falls fast and hard but he loses interest just as quick. We don’t want you to be one of the broken girls he leaves behind.”

“Bet I can fix him,” you stubbornly joked and chuckled but you weren't fully convinced it was a joke anymore.

Joshua laughed. “I’m sure you can.”

“Can’t you guys just be a little more supportive?” you sighed, finally leaning out of Seungcheol’s embrace. “If he breaks my heart, so be it.”

“You don’t deserve your heart broken by a fratboy with commitment issues,” Joshua told you gently. “That’s the whole thing.”

You heard a scoff from over on the sofa. “She’s not in love with you, Shua.”

Joshua’s and Seungcheol’s heads snapped up immediately, one glaring at Jeonghan and the other at you.

“Me?!” 

“LOVE?! YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH HIM???”

You vowed that if you went to jail this year, it would be for the death of Yoon Jeonghan. You hoped your glare over Seungcheol’s shoulder was enough to convey your intentions.

“Fine, you can go on a second date with Mingyu,” Seungcheol had told you, much like a father lecturing his rebellious teenage daughter, “but only if we come along.”

And so, you went on your second date to the fair with Kim Mingyu, accompanied by one menacing bodyguard and your two mostly normal friends. And what a date it was.

Holding onto him tight as he all but cried into your shoulder, you wondered how this poor coward had even gotten this far in life. 

“It’s okay,” you told him, patting his head as you exited the haunted maze attraction. “See, we’re out already! You’re fine.”

The date had been so nice so far. He had paid for the tickets (all of them, which seemed to get him in Jeonghan’s good graces) and bought you a themed headband to wear. He had won you a bear plushie from a no-doubt rigged stand, only smiling proudly as the attendant glared and handed him the prize. The butterflies in your chest couldn’t have been more fluttery and excited than they had been this entire evening. The perfect date, 10/10, you understood why so many girls fell for the Kim Mingyu.

But then you had discovered your boyfriend’s fatal flaw: despite his imposing size and the visible definition of his muscles, he was an absolute coward. 

Though he had put on a confident act while waiting in the queue, it took him no less than two minutes to start screaming in fear and using you as a shield from the scare actors.

As you tried your hardest to comfort him, wiping the tears of fear from his cheeks and rubbing gentle circles into his back, Jeonghan was cackling behind you like a maniac, finding great joy in your boyfriend’s distress. “Are you scared of clowns, Kim Mingyu? Clowns?” 

“I’m scared of a lot of things, but clowns aren‘t one of them!” Mingyu bravely shouted at him, eyes blood-shot and throat sore from all the screaming and squealing he had done these past fifteen minutes, before his words dawned on him. “I meant–”

With a judgemental nose scrunch, Joshua nudged your side and scoffed out a short laugh before whispering, “You sure know how to pick them, huh?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you growled at him but paid him no more attention as Mingyu grabbed onto your arm with yet another screech of fear.

“Dude,” Seungcheol sighed deeply, defeated and tired of your fair adventure, “that was just a pigeon.”

“Birds are scary,” Mingyu retorted immediately.

“Not pigeons,” Jeonghan told him with an equally exhausted sigh. “They’re about as harmful as you are. No one ever, in the history of this planet got physically attacked by a pigeon.”

“Well, actually–” Joshua began but was promptly cut off by your elbow between his ribs.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” you asked Mingyu, squeezing his hand for comfort. “Maybe we could go eat? Or just walk around?”

He hesitated. “I was actually hoping we could– Nevermind. That’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s fun. What were you thinking?”

“... The ferris wheel?” He side-eyed your friends for the briefest moment before adding in a whisper, “Just the two of us?”

Without a moment to think about it (because god knows you’d be caught by Seungcheol), you tugged on his hand and began running towards the queue for the ferris wheel, glancing behind you to make sure they hadn’t followed you.

“What was that?” Mingyu giggled as you came to a stop. 

“You said you wanted to come, just the two of us,” you told him with a shrug and an award-winning smile. “Keep a low profile and they won’t find us.”

“Why are they here with us anyway?” he wondered before quickly correcting himself, “Not that I think they’re bad or annoying or something– It’s just that–”

You laughed and glanced through the growing crowd at where your trio of friends were looking around nearly frantically, like a pack of guard dogs trying to figure out where the sound had come from. “They’re overprotective and think you’re bad news.”

“Me?” Lips pursing into a small pout, he seemed a little dejected at the thought. “Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you think I’m bad news? That I’m not good for you?”

The sadness in his beautiful brown eyes made you weak inside. You were ready to spill every truth and lie and everything in between just to make him happy again. But before you could, the staff member in charge of the wheel greeted you with a tired smile and asked for your tickets and, before you knew it, you were seated in the gondola.

You had read enough romance novels to know where this would lead.

Or so you thought, until the wheel was three metres off the ground and Mingyu was the palest you had ever seen him, eyes wide with fear as he looked at anything but the windows. 

“You good?” you asked him carefully, reaching your hand across the gondola to squeeze his knee. He didn’t answer. And then it dawned on you – the very same realization from just twenty minutes ago – your boyfriend was the dictionary definition of a coward. “... Don’t tell me you’re afraid of heights.”

Shaking a little from the fear travelling through his veins, he took a sharp breath. “I won’t.”

“But are you?”

“Yes. Deathly.”

You wanted to laugh at the irony. “You were the one that suggested we come on the ferris wheel!”

“I didn’t think it would be this bad if you’re with me!” he practically whined, eyes squeezed shut, his hand searching for yours for comfort. “I just wanted this date to be romantic for you. What good date doesn’t end with a ferris wheel ride?!”

Why was your stupid cowardly boyfriend making your heart flutter again like this? Just a few simple words that he probably hadn’t even thought through and you were melting all over again.

“Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you?” you offered. 

He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. All you’ve done today is comfort me and tell me it’s fine but, really, you must think I’m a coward and an idiot.”

Well, he wasn’t completely wrong. But it’s not like you were ever going to tell him.

“Actually, can you just tell me when we’re going down again?” he added soon after, voice cracking. He paused. “Or, well, actually don’t do that because you must already think I’m pathetic and I don’t want to ruin this for you and–”

You weren’t sure why or how, but you found yourself pressing your lips to his. His rambling cut off with a noise of surprise and before long, he leaned closer to you, still squeezing your hand with his, and nearly melted into the kiss.

When you pulled away, nose still brushing against his, he let out a shaky breath that sounded just a little bit like a laugh. “What was that for?”

“I– You–” you stuttered, unable to believe your own actions. You leaned further away from him, clearing your throat as the gondola came to a stop at the bottom of the wheel, the staff fumbling with the door to let you out. “We’re back on the ground.”

“We are?” he breathed out and finally opened his (admittedly hazy) eyes. “Oh. I guess we are.”

As you stepped out of the gondola and began on your way back towards the front gate, he linked your arms, playing with your fingers. “That wasn’t so bad.”

“You were almost crying,” you told him with a good-hearted laugh and a nudge. “Please do us both a favour and never take your date to a haunted maze or to the ferris wheel ever again.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” he laughed, sheepish.

“There you two are!” Jeonghan’s voice sounded from behind you. You turned to offer him a smile. He replied with a sarcastic one of his own before yelling as loud as he could (which, admittedly, was not very loud at all), “Cheol! Shua! I found the fools in love!”

As your trio of friends slowly gathered, you were still focused on Mingyu. The fairy lights had no right to make him look so beautiful. You were certain you would dream of him tonight. 

“The haunted maze aside,” you started, voice low as to not let your friends hear, “I enjoyed this date.”

He grinned brightly. “Me too. But I suppose everything’s just better with you.”

“Same time next week?” you half-joked. “I’ll do the planning this time though.”

“Only if you promise there won’t be any more haunted mazes,” he mumbled to cover up the fact that you had him wrapped around your fingers, wound so tight he could never think of letting go.

“It’s a date,” you laughed and kissed his cheek just as Seungcheol walked over to drag you away by your arm. “Hey!”

“It’s past your curfew,” he deadpanned while Jeonghan and Joshua snickered behind you. 

You scoffed. “I’m an adult?!”

“You snuck away with your boyfriend!” he accused, looking almost actually offended by your actions. “What adult does that? And with a frat boy of all things?”

“I think they’re cute,” Joshua argued with a kind smile, having always been the most hopeless romantic of the bunch. “He’s like a golden retriever in love.”

“Golden retriever?" Seungcheol scoffed. “He towers over all of us. He’s a great dane if anything.”

As if to prove your friends’ point, the sound of rapid footsteps echoed from the pavement. 

Always the most brave of the three, Jeonghan turned his head to take a look. He let out a disbelieving laugh. “(Y/n), your puppy’s coming with us.”

“My what?” you wondered, brows furrowing as you turned to see whatever it was he had noticed. Your heart fluttered at the sight of Mingyu running up to you with a bashful smile. 

“I–” he gasped out, struggling to breathe. 

Your friends and you were equally breathless, mostly from shock.

He took one more deep breath – all the while glaring at the starry sky as if to curse the gods for giving him such a poor lung capacity – and then turned to smile at you again, “What kind of a date would I be if I didn’t walk you to your front door?”

“One without a death wish,” you swore you heard Seungcheol mumble under his breath. But you weren’t too worried about him (he couldn’t hurt a fly even if he wanted to), especially when you had a whole Kim Mingyu running to you.

“You don’t have to–” you started.

But he shook his head and smiled a little prouder before offering his arm. “Here, I’ll keep you safe.”

“What are we? Just random street rats?” Jeonghan wondered while looking awfully amused. “You think one of you can protect her better than three of us?”

While Mingyu looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole, red ears and all, you came to his defence with a discerning stare directed at your three friends. You shrugged. “I certainly feel safer with him.”

With a pained groan and a hand to his chest as if to will his heart to stop hurting, Jeonghan grabbed Seungcheol by the arm. “C’mon, great dane, he’s clearly got it covered.”

Seungcheol blinked at him, baffled. “You’re not seriously thinking of– Jeonghan! We can’t just leave them!”

You gave your best friend a begging look. As much as you could never admit it to Seungcheol, you longed for more time with Mingyu. And if it was just the two of you? You were giddy at just the prospect of it.

“I’ll pay for your pizza,” Jeonghan offered begrudgingly, sending you one last warning glare before practically dragging Seungcheol away. Joshua – much to your joy – was happier to leave you with your new boyfriend, only giving you one last hug and a wave goodbye before following the others and joining in their banter.

You looked up to find Mingyu staring after them in utter surprise. “They actually left us alone? Willingly?”

“I guess so,” you feigned coyness. “So, you’re walking me home then?”

“Most happily,” he agreed before shrugging off his jacket and – to the detriment of your poor fluttering heart – draped it over your shoulders. “There, now you’ll be warm.”

“You didn’t have to–”

“I wanted to,” he interrupted with a sweet smile before offering you his arm again.

You swallowed the butterflies threatening to break out and linked your arm with his with a shy smile. And so, side by side, you walked to your home. The conversation was almost nonexistent as you simply enjoyed each other’s presence in the silence of the night. 

“Can I ask something?” Mingyu suddenly broke the blissful quiet air.

You hummed in agreement.

He took a deep calming breath before blurting, “Why me?”

“... What?”

“Why me?” he repeated himself a little more certainly. “Why would you choose me as your boyfriend? 

There was another moment of silence. How could one tell someone as loving and sweet as Mingyu that you were dating him only because of a stupid joke? A small bet that was never meant to go further than a sentence of a prank and five minutes of confusion? You feared you’d shatter his heart.

But still you had to come clean eventually. 

It was funny really, you thought, that a week or two ago, you wouldn’t have hesitated to answer at all. You would’ve laughed it off and told him it was just a silly joke and to not take it so seriously. You would’ve texted the group chat telling Jeonghan he owed you another Snickers bar for the humiliation of having to explain yourself to a fratboy.

And today your heart hurt at the idea of breaking his.

Mirroring his earlier preparations, you took a deep breath to ease your nerves and calm your heart before answering, “It was Jeonghan who picked you.”

“For you to date?” Mingyu wondered, brows furrowing in confusion. “That’s a little odd, I suppose, but–”

“No, it was– It was a bet. At first.” You didn’t dare to look at him as you spoke. (And if you had, you would’ve seen his facade of confidence crack just a little.) “We were just at the library and Jeonghan bet me a coke and a Snickers bar to tell you… what I told you that day. I wasn’t– You– We weren’t ever supposed to meet again. Well, maybe as a passing glance in the hallway or something, but not like this. It wasn’t meant to be serious.”

“Oh.” You didn’t need to look at him to know how dejected he must have felt.

“But!” you rushed to mend his heart, “But then I got to know you and you made me lunch and you smiled at me all pretty and you spoke to me even when I was being weird and mean– Look,” you stopped mid-step and grabbed his wrist to stop him as well, forcing him to face you before you spoke with as much conviction as you could muster up, “this whole thing might have started because Jeonghan offered me candy, but I swear on everything that I hold dear that… that I really like you. I’ve come to really like you so much, Mingyu. 

“I can’t imagine a day without you anymore. When you miss our lectures, I spend all day worrying something happened to you. When you don’t smile, I want to go and kick whoever made you sad or mad. I just really love you a lot – even if it wasn’t so at first. Okay?”

“Okay,” he whispered, nodding slowly, his eyes glimmering a little. “I mean… I always guessed you didn’t say those things because you actually felt something for me and–” He paused, eyes clearing, brows furrowing, ears tinting red. “Did you just say you love me?”

“I– You– What? No,” you laughed and felt nervous all of a sudden. 

You couldn’t have!? 

… Could you?

His dejected puppy-eyes became cheerful half-moons as he grinned widely. “You did! You love me!”

You weren’t sure you had enough proof to argue, so you kept quiet and prayed he wouldn’t see right through you. You hadn’t meant to let those words slip so early. You hadn’t meant to even feel this way. But you couldn’t lie and argue.

“Hey, if it makes you feel better,” Mingyu leaned closer to speak softly, “I’ve been thinking about how I love you too.” He let out a sheepish laugh. “Really, I was worried I’d be too forward and scare you away if I told you that already. I mean, it’s only our – what? – second date?”

“You really do fall hard and fast, huh?” you wondered out loud. 

He scoffed. “Who told you that?”

“My friends.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll have you know that you’re the first I’ve felt this way about.

“Yeah?” You pursed your lips in thought. “If that’s true, then you should kiss me right now.”

Mingyu chuckled and shook his head. “I fear that might be a little too forward.”

“Really?” You quirked a brow. “And a  love confession on the second date isn’t?”

“You’re the one who started it! Besides,” he linked your arms and led you to keep walking towards your home, “I’m a little scared of your friends and I’m pretty sure the one with big muscles will kick my ass if I don’t take you on at least two more dates before I kiss you.”

You weren’t entirely sure he was joking.

“Fine,” you sighed, defeated in the game of love. “But those two dates better be great. I’m speaking five-star restaurant, dinner and a concert by the seaside, watching The Titanic in the moonlight kind of romantic.”

“I’ve got it, don’t worry, baby,” he assured you and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek.

Baby. You had to physically hold back from smiling and blushing all giddy. 

[aperrywilliams]

That Green Monster (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

------------------ 

Author Masterlist

------------------

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: Your relationship with Spencer is fresh new, and some of his insecurities arise when someone new joins the team, making him react in a wrong way to you.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Fluff and Angst. And then fluff at the end (I don't even understand myself). Spencer lashes out. Spencer is insecure. Reader is mad. Both are so madly in love, though.

A/N: This one has been sitting as a WIP for way too long, so I decided to finish it today!

---------------

A shot in the neck.

That's what it took for you and Spencer to - finally - get together. To confess you loved each other.

Everything happened while working a case in Texas. You had cornered a suspect who was hiding in a restaurant. You wanted to open a communication line with him, but out of nowhere, shots got fired. And one of them ended in your neck.

What happened next was a blur to everyone, especially to Spencer. He barely remembers Morgan pulling him back so that the paramedics could check on you.

The ambulance ride to the hospital and the hours of waiting for news were excruciating.

In Spencer's brain, only the thought that he might lose you forever without coming clean about his feelings for you.

You have been in a similar situation before, but this time, he thought you wouldn't make it.

It would be the loss of a friend and the loss of the love of his life.

If Spencer has to be honest, he realized he loved you after your first month working at the BAU. And with every passing day, the feeling only got stronger. But he was scared of saying anything, afraid of changing - or losing - the strong bond you guys already had.

So, he kept it to himself for years. For six years, to be exact.

But what he didn't know was you had fallen for him, too.

And how could you not? You both went through so many things over the years: Spencer's kidnapping, his Dilaudid problem, your family issues, the injuries, bad cases, unsubs attacks, hospital visits, and so on. With every bump in the way, you both were each other rock. Always together, no matter what.

The team affectionately called you Mulder and Scully, but in reverse roles, of course.

But even if, at some point, both of you realized what you had was much more than a friendship, neither of you did something about it.

Until you got shot in the neck.

In that uncomfortable waiting room chair, Spencer prayed, to whatever or whoever could listen, for a chance to make things right.

So when you woke up in your hospital bed hours later, the first thing you saw was Spencer's face.

He was by your side as always. But this time, he had something to tell you. Spencer didn't have the chance, though, because before he could say anything, three words blurted out from your lips: 'I love you.'

Between happy tears, you both spent hours talking and coming to the conclusion you were both idiots in love.

You didn't say anything to the team, but you all knew they knew, so it became unspoken knowledge after you were released from the hospital.

-------

With you home due to your neck injury and JJ on maternity leave, Hotch decided that some help would be better than putting more pressure on the remaining team members.

That's why he borrowed an agent from Sex Crimes.

Spencer had already told you that there was a new agent, but he hadn't developed this information in detail.

You knew him on your first day back, a month after you got shot.

Once you exited the elevator on the sixth, you headed through the bullpen glass doors. When you pushed them open, you didn't realize that someone was going in the opposite direction, and you almost hit the guy in the face with one of the doors.

"Oh, my God. I'm sorry!" you exclaimed when you realized what almost happened.

The man shook his head in dismissal. "No, no. Don't be. Nothing happened."

"But I almost hit you with a glass door," you pointed. The guy didn't seem phased by it, though.

"I'm okay, really," he insisted, flashing you a smile. You hadn't picked much of his appearance, to be honest, but the guy was easy on the eyes. Another thing that caught your attention was you had never seen him before.

"Do I know you?" You asked with curiosity.

"I don't think so. I'm Agent Dodds. Jake Dodds," he introduced himself, extending his hand. You've heard that last name before. You told him yours, shaking his hand.

"Really? You are a BAU member, right? I'm the backup agent Hotchner brought to the team," he explained, and then it clicked. He was the new guy.

Jake Dodds was young, fresh and motivated. After his first year in Sex Crimes, he already has a lot of accomplishments to show off. And, of course, he was doing his best to impress Hotch and the team.

Coming to the office bright and early and being the last to leave gave Dodds a chance to engage with the cases and the team members - you included. Due to your neck injury, you were mostly on desk duty, so you had enough time to help Jake with paperwork and all the questions he might have about past cases. And Dodds had many.

In the weeks that followed, he has spent a lot of time by your side, working with you when the team wasn't out of town.

It was part of your nature to be forthcoming and willing to teach others. And having worked at the BAU for almost six years, you felt like you could teach one thing or two.

Spencer loves that from you; it's one of the many things that made him fall in love with you. But for some reason, Jake's closeness to you started to bother him.

Spencer knew it was irrational and without foundation. Still, in the past weeks since Dodds joined, with each laugh from you when Jake cracked a joke, every time you sat together at the office a little too close, or every day you decided to have lunch with Jake rather than him, Spencer's jealousy only got stronger. It didn't help the team's comments about you and Jake.

'Dodds looks hooked by her'; 'The newbie definitely is flirting with her'; 'Really handsome view she has over there.'

Spencer could only bite his tongue. He could easily assume that the team was only messing with the situation, but the green monster growing inside didn't let him think clearly.

Spencer knew you, and you would never do something to hurt him, so why did he feel that uneasiness inside of him?

Maybe the fact you were in the early stages of your relationship made Spencer insecure. It was all new and fresh; he was happy with you, but although you both have known each other for years, he was inexperienced in the love department. Being friends was one thing, but being a couple was different.

So instead of talking to you—which he knew was the right thing to do—Spencer did what he usually does when he feels overwhelmed: he shuts people out.

And you did notice, of course.

Something was troubling him, you knew that, but every time you brought up the topic, he dodged it. You didn't look much into it at first because you knew Spencer would talk to you eventually when he felt ready. Or you assumed he would.

But the days went by, and Spencer still hadn't told you why he had been so distant, so you decided to confront him.

You both were watching a movie at your place, but you noticed Spencer wasn't paying attention to the TV. After an internal debate about whether it was a good idea to bring this up, you tested the waters.

"Spencer, are you okay?" you asked him, genuine concern lacing your voice.

The question hung in the air enough to make you think he might not hear you.

"Spencer?" you tried again, swearing you heard him huff even if he tried to be subtle.

"I'm okay, just tired," he hastened to dismiss, not looking at you.

So he heard you, but you had to call his name again to get an answer. Something is definitely wrong.

Contemplating your options, you chose to end the 'patiently wait until he comes to you' strategy. You were his girlfriend now. Why he couldn't trust you enough to tell you what's going on?

"Okay. This bullshit needs to stop now. You have been weird for too many days to tell me now you are okay and just tired. I know something happened and need you to tell me what it is," you demanded.

Shifting uncomfortably in his spot, Spencer had an inner debate about coming clean to you. He didn't want to admit how much Jake's closeness to you was bothering him. Spencer didn't want you to think about him as the possessive and clingy boyfriend who can't see his girlfriend near other guys.

He wasn't like that, right?

"You are imagining things. I'm perfectly fine," Spencer deadpanned, eyes returning to the TV.

Your mouth went slack. Were you imagining things? Was he thinking you were stupid?

"So I'm imagining things, uh? It's not you being defensive right now, isn't it?"

"No." He gave you a curt answer that meant precisely the opposite of what he was implying.

You wanted to give him a chance to open with you, but Spencer wasn't engaging.

It seemed easier to talk about what was happening to each other when you were only friends. Why is it so hard now you are a couple? You couldn't understand, and your patience was running short.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" you called him out in frustration. "Who do you think I am? A random person who hasn't known you for fucking six years?"

Spencer internally flinched. He saw the confusion and anger mixed in your eyes, and he felt the urge to hug you tight, telling you he was being an irrational jealous asshole. But Spencer didn't bring himself to do it, and instead, he tried to play cool and detached.

"I already told you. Everything is wonderful, at least for me. Not for you?" Spencer asked casually.

You narrowed your eyes at him. He looked calm and collected, but you could feel he was anything but.

"Okay. I'll bite the bullet. So the distance between us in the past weeks doesn't bother you as it bothers me," you concluded.

Spencer let out a bitter chuckle.

"Funny you're bothered by that. You have seemed very busy in the past weeks," Spencer mumbled.

A slip that didn't go unnoticed by you.

"Very busy?" you echoed his words. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Spencer shrugged, unamused.

"Exactly what it is. You have been very busy at the BAU lately. I only have been giving you space."

You squinted your eyes, raking your brain to understand Spencer's meaning. For your mandatory desk duty, you have spent more time in the office than in the field, but besides that, what has been different?

And then it clicked on you. Jake Dodds.

Sure, you've been very willing to teach him things and help him with his work, but that only explains Spencer's annoyance if there is another reason.

"Is this about Dodds? Are you jealous of Jake?" you questioned in disbelief.

Spencer's face paled. You had caught him.

After your deduction, he should have told the truth, but Spencer is stubborn enough not to give in, especially if that meant recognizing something he felt embarrassed of.

"W- what?! No! Where did you get that? I'm not jealous or remotely close to that," Spencer rebutted defensively.

Oh, he was definitively jealous. At the realization, you let out a giggle, eyes softening at your boyfriend. For you, there is no guy he should be worried about- not for Jake or any other person. Your heart is his, and you know there is nobody in this world you want to be with more than Spencer.

But Spencer's face deflated. You were laughing at him, and he felt even worse.

"Spencer, there is no reason for you to be -"

You couldn't even finish your sentence when Spencer cut you off, standing from the couch.

"I already told you! Am I not speaking English to you?"

His face was red, but not by embarrassment anymore. Now, it was a kind of contained rage.

Stunned by his reaction, it took you a few seconds to say anything.

"I - I'm just trying to understand what's going on. Don't be rude," you chimed.

Spencer let out a humorless chuckle.

"Rude, did you say? Am I rude because I disagree with you? Is that? Or am I rude because this doesn't have to do with you?"

"Excuse me? When did this turn into a problem related to me?"

You stood to mirror his stature so as not to look vulnerable.

"I don't know, you tell me. Are you disappointed because not everything or anyone in this world is revolving around you?"

Spencer's voice was cold and sarcastic, something you had seen in him before but never directed toward you. He was outrightly saying you were self-centered.

"Spencer -" you tried to warn him to back off, but Spencer didn't stop.

"No. I get it. You like the attention. But, I'm sorry, I'm not in the mood to indulge your childish self. Maybe the young and funny Agent Dodds could help you with that. But not me."

A dead silence settled in the room. If a needle had fallen on the floor, it would have made a noticeable noise.

You couldn't believe that man was your boyfriend—the man who was telling you such hurtful words.

Spencer saw how your features morphed from confused to hurt and then to offense, and with a twist in his guts, he knew he had fucked up.

"Are you done?"

Your tone was flat and collected, even if, on the inside, there was a storm of feelings. Spencer was deflated and looking for the right words to apologize.

"Hey, look, I'm -"

"I asked if you were done." You questioned harshly this time, and Spencer only gave you a shy nod.

"Okay, now get out!"

Your command was only followed by your actions as you walked to your entrance to open the door.

With horror, Spencer tried to sputter words to change your mind.

"I'm sorry. I - I didn't - Please, don't do this."

"I said, get out! I don't want you here!"

You emphasized your words, gesturing to the open door.

"Baby, I wasn't - I didn't mean what-" Spencer tried again, but you had made up your mind and didn't want to hear him.

"I don't fucking care! You had your time to explain yourself, and I don't want to hear anything else from you."

Spencer knew that nothing he could say at that moment would help his cause, so like a dog with the tail between his legs, he slowly made the walk of shame towards your door, but not before looking at you and begging for forgiveness with his eyes. It was a useless thing because you didn't even look at him back. Once he was out of your sight, you slammed the door shut, and your facade crumbled.

Tears started to fall freely, in a combination of pain and frustration.

It's needless to say, you couldn't sleep that night.

-----------------------------------

Spencer looked distracted and visibly sad.

Morgan knew something had happened to him, even if the man had denied the fact for the past two days. And Morgan was sure it was something related to you. It looked like Spencer would combust from guilt whenever his eyes landed on you. Morgan's suspicion turned to be right the moment you caught Spencer's gaze, and you purposely averted it.

"Okay, pretty boy, what did you do?" Morgan questioned Spencer when he caught him pouring coffee in the kitchenette.

"What? Me? Nothing!" Spencer defended himself, but the crack in his voice did nothing to help his cause.

"So she's not talking to you just because?"

Spencer shrugged, leaving the pot over the counter.

Was he being so obvious? If Spencer wanted to maintain the facade that 'nothing is wrong here,' he was failing miserably.

Morgan scoffed, grabbing a mug to pour some coffee for himself.

"Come on, Reid. There must be something. Since yesterday morning, you look like a kicked puppy, and she seems visibly upset, and you're both always attached to the hip."

Dangerous territory, Spencer thought. But at this point, his regret was more powerful than keeping your relationship private.

"She is mad at me," the man recognized. It was a 'vague' recognition, but it was something.

Morgan seemed not surprised, though.

"No shit, Sherlock. The question is why, pretty boy," Derek prodded.

Spencer sighed deeply. How could he express what really happened without telling the whole truth?

Morgan saw the struggle in Spencer's eyes.

"I know you are both hurting by whatever happened. Maybe talking would help you clear your head and think about how to fix it."

Spencer took in Morgan's words. Some advice could help, he decided.

"We fought. I mean, we argued two nights ago, and she kicked me out. And now she is not talking to me, and I don't- I want to apologize, but I don't know how."

Spencer winced, just remembering your fight.

Derek looked at him incredulously.

"She kicked you out? What in the world did you do so she reacted like that?"

The actual question was 'what he said' because, strictly speaking, he didn't do anything besides let his mouth run on its own accord.

He regretted every word he said to you the second they left his mouth, but the damage was done, and you were fed up enough to listen to his apologies, so you yelled at him to let you alone. He didn't blame you. But he was feeling miserable, and it showed.

Spencer told Morgan exactly what happened—word by word.

"Jesus, Reid. I didn't peg you like the jealous type," Morgan acknowledged. Spencer shook his head.

"It's not like that. I mean, I know she loves me..."

"But?"

Spencer sighed. "What if - what if she realizes there are better men than me? That I am not enough for a romantic relationship?"

Morgan's eyebrows knit together. Spencer's face was pure panic, only thinking about the possibility.

"And Dodds would be better than you? You know he's like a kid, right?" Morgan pointed.

"Yeah. A young man with a lot of confidence that makes her smile and has her undivided attention. He's smart and qualified for this job like any of us. I'm not better than him. And I can perfectly be disposable in comparison."

That was the thing. Spencer felt insecure about you finding someone better than him.

Morgan looked at him empathetically.

"Man, I think you are looking too much into it. I don't think you should feel threatened in your relationship with her. And I guess she thinks the same and feels hurt for you thinking that."

Spencer nodded. "That's why I know I fucked up. I hurt her for my insecurities. It's all my fault," he lamented.

"You need to talk to her," Morgan advised, and Spencer whined.

"How? She hasn't spared me a glance in two days!"

"You're a genius, Spencer. And above all, how long have you known her? Five years? Think of something."

"Five years, eleven months, three weeks, and four days," Spencer corrected without hesitation.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about. You'll figure it out."

Spencer sighed deeply as Morgan patted his shoulder before leaving the kitchenette. Derek was right; they should talk. Spencer just had to figure out how to make that happen.

-----------------------------------

That night you were sulking at your apartment, laying on the couch and watching some crap on the TV, when three knocks alerted you.

You weren't expecting anyone, and you didn't think Spencer could be outside your door. You were clear in telling him you didn't want to talk to him when he cornered you in the breaking room this afternoon.

But if you knew something about Spencer Reid, it was that he could be stubborn as fuck. So when you looked by the peephole and saw him standing there, you only closed your eyes and sighed.

Spencer knocked again. "I know you are there. And I know you don't want to talk to me. But please, let me do the talk. Please, at least listen to the things I need to say."

"You already said enough," you spat from your spot on the other side of the door. Spencer gulped hard. He said enough hurtful things to you to kick his ass, but he was determined to gain your forgiveness somehow.

"I can't stress enough how sorry I am for that. But I need you to know that I didn't mean any of it." Spencer paused, and when he didn't hear you say anything, he continued. "I'm an asshole, and I would understand if you want to break up and never see me again. I mean, well - it - it would be kind of difficult not to see each other because we work together, but you know what I mean. Or maybe not, I don't know. Jesus, what the fuck am I saying?" Spencer chastised himself, trying to control his nerves.

You could hear him struggling, so you decided to spare him a panic attack in the middle of the hallway. You opened your door and saw him still trying to sputter what he wanted to say.

"If this is your way to apologize, you are doing a terrible job." Your voice was not angry but tired. Because if he had had two tortuous days of you not talking to him, you haven't done it any better, overthinking about your fight over and over again.

Spencer's glassy, pleading eyes found yours.

"I know. It seems it's another thing I suck at," he admitted fidgeting with his hands. "Would you, uh. Would you let me try again? Apologize. That is."

It's true you were still mad with him, but you really wanted to understand why he reacted the way he did that night and said all the things he said. You know him too well to ignore that something else beyond mere jealousy clearly triggered his outburst.

Without saying a word, you gestured for him to get into the apartment. Spencer was quick to comply before you changed your mind.

You both took seats on opposite sides of the couch, eyes overly interested in your living room rug. After some minutes of silence and knowing he needed to say something, Spencer cleared his throat.

"I guess I'm going to start with the beginning," he prefaced, keeping his hands in his lap as you turned to contemplate him in silence. "Uh - you know it took me time to come clean with my feelings for you. A lot of time, almost six years," he chuckled nervously. You nodded, not wanting to interrupt him, fearing to get him more anxious.

"The thing is- I have been in love with you for so long and creating scenarios of us in my mind that - that now I know it is real, I don't - It's still difficult to grasp the idea we are together, you know?"

As Spencer raked his hair, collecting his thoughts, you couldn't help but remember all the things you both went through until you decided to tell the truth to each other. Six years is a long time. But you wanted to believe it has been worth it.

"I'm not used to a life where I get to be happy; when I think I am, things crush down, and I lose everything. It's a rule: good things don't last in my life."

You know how difficult it has been for Spencer to accept that he is not cursed or anything like that—a very difficult task, knowing the things he has been through.

"So my mind began to be haunted by the idea that it was a matter of time before you realized you could do better than me, and I'm only worth it as a friend."

His words made you recall the times you both discussed your love life in the past and all the doubts weighing on Spencer's shoulders. After those conversations, you always swore to make him feel loved and appreciated.

"And then you came back to work, and Dodds was there. I created this whole scenario, telling myself that you would be better with someone like him."

Spencer paused to gauge your reaction. You were openly listening to him, taking in every word.

"I know it's unfair to you. I - I betrayed your trust by mulling those ideas and saying all those hurtful things I truly don't believe. I'm so sorry; I don't have a defense other than my incompetence in dealing with my insecurities," Spencer concluded, letting a deep sigh escape from his lips and averting your gaze. He looked embarrassed and vulnerable, and it hurts you to acknowledge how small he feels about himself. You reached your hand tentatively, touching his forearm, and Spencer's eyes drifted back to you.

"Spencer, you have to know there is no one in this world who I love so deeply as I love you. No man could compare to you. No matter how young or confident or whatever difference you can name. You are the most thorough, caring, and selfless person I know, and I love you so fucking much it hurts," you gave his arm a gentle squeeze to emphasize your point. Spencer's cheeks flushed a bit. He still needs to get used to your compliments.

"What I still don't get is why you didn't tell me. Don't you trust me enough to talk to me about how you feel?"

Spencer hastened to reply, taking your hand in his. "No! It's not that! I do trust you with my life!"

"Then why didn't you tell me the truth at the beginning?"

"I - I don't know. I thought you would see me as the shitty boyfriend who can't see his partner near another man. It's as if I wanted to control you. And that's far from what I want," Spencer explained, scooting by your side as his grip on your hand tightened. "It was my problem, not yours. You did nothing to make this happen. I'm the one who must have to fix it." You shook your head.

"Baby, no. If it is something that upsets you, it is my problem, too. Spencer, we need to talk about those things and resolve them together."

Spencer's head hung low, taking in your words.

"But why? I am the insecure one, and you have done nothing more than show me how unfounded my fear is."

"Well, because you're still my best friend, and I care about you." Spencer's gaze met yours again. "It's the thing I first loved about us, you know? I love feeling safe with you and having the trust to talk about what is happening to us." With loving eyes, you brought his hand to your lips to kiss it.

"I want you to keep being my best friend, too," Spencer said with a hopeful smile. It was all you needed to hear.

"Then please don't forget that. You can always talk to me, and I promise to do the same, okay?" Spencer nodded at your words, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Okay. I promise," Spencer replied before wrapping you in a tight embrace. You melted in his arms, feeling his warmth and inhaling his scent, something you have been missing in the past two days.

"I love you," you mumbled into his chest. "So so much."

"I love you too. And I'm so sorry for my behavior two days ago," Spencer muttered in your hair.

You chuckled, slightly parting to look at him.

"Yeah, we have to work on taming that green monster, doctor. Otherwise, Hotch won't be able to bring anyone new to the team," you pointed, leaning to kiss his lips. Spencer smiled into the kiss.

"That means you forgive me?" he asked hopefully. You narrowed your eyes.

"Yes. But you still have to make it up to me," you teased, faking seriousness.

Spencer nodded eagerly nonetheless. "Whatever it takes."

"You could start making something to eat. I'm starving here after two days with a hole in my stomach," you rubbed your belly for emphasis.

"Yes, ma'am," Spencer smiled, standing and strolling quickly to the kitchen. He felt so relieved after coming clean with you that he swore not to make the same mistake again. That green monster fed by his insecurities dissipating as he thought how lucky he was to love and have you in his life.

------------------

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

[ameenvie]

Treacherous, Pt. 1 - Jim Halpert x fem!reader

masterlist | ao3 | fic recs

“Out of focus, eye to eye, 'Til the gravity's too much”

Part II

Word count: 2.7k Warnings: nothing in this chapter, nsfw in part 2! Tags: idiots in love, banter, messing around, pining Prompt/Summary: You started working at Dunder Mifflin around 6 months ago, and since then you developed a massive crush on one of your colleagues - Jim Halpert. Things happen. A/N: Will I ever stop titling my fics after songs? NEVER! I have had this in my WIPs for~ f o r e v e r ~ because chapter 2 is still not finished and I wanted to publish them together, but oh well! Maybe posting this will push me to finish that and get back into writing a bit. I have so many Jamie & Viktor WIPs as well, hopefully soon I'll finish those as well, I haven't written anything properly in a year I think so I am a bit rusty. Hope you like it! ❤❤

Your mood matched the Scranton weather in the past few weeks – gloomy. It was raining in the morning when you pulled into the parking lot before you started the day. You shut the engine down and sighed as you looked at the building.

You have been working for Dunder Mifflin for around six months now, since you moved here. Adjusting to the new city, new job and new coworkers wasn’t easy. Especially the new coworkers. As you were walking towards the entrance you accidentally stepped into a puddle which was deeper than it looked, and that caused your shoes to be soaking wet.

"Great, another fantastic day ahead,” you thought, before heading towards the building. When you stepped inside the office, you said hi to the new receptionist and you quickly walked towards the annex where your desk was located. A few people were already in, sitting at their desks – Dwight, of course always the first one to arrive, Meredith and Angela. And Jim.

“Hey you, good morning!” Hearing his voice made you freeze in your tracks, and you turned around to face him. Even if everything else in Scranton was rainy and gloomy, he was sunshine. He leaned back in his chair while he fiddled with a pen, his smile so bright it could light up a whole town. You felt a strange feeling in your chest.

“Hey, good morning.” You replied shortly and absent-mindedly, being lost in your thoughts.

“Are you alright? You seem preoccupied.” His tone switched to a bit more serious one, you could tell he really cared. He was sweet and you two had nice chats from time to time, but you couldn’t really consider what you two had a friendship. He was a nice colleague.

“Oh yeah, I just need to get these shoes dried up asap” you replied, looking down at your soaked feet. “Good thing I keep my granny slippers under my desk.” Jim chuckled as a response.

“You shouldn’t keep your things next to the electricity plugs. Especially polyester slippers, they are a fire hazard.” You heard Dwight say to you without even looking away from his computer screen, clearly fed up with the little small talk you and Jim had going on. You smiled and nodded at Jim as a signal that you’ll be on your way.

“Good luck,” he said, then turned back to his own work as well.

You plopped down into your chair and kicked off your soaked shoes. Luckily there was nobody in the annex yet, as the others usually arrived later than you. You put on your warm slippers and placed the shoes next to the heater. A heavy sigh escaped your lungs as you leaned on your elbows and buried your face into your palms. The strange feeling in your chest started to ease as you focused your mind back on work instead of your coworker.

As the time passed your other colleagues started to arrive and occupy their desks, as chatter filled the air, distracting you from your duties. You decided it was time to get another cup of coffee before you continued. It didn’t take long for Ryan and Kelly to get on your nerves with their constant fighting, but at least you didn’t have to pay for cable if you wanted to watch some crappy daytime drama.

You stepped into the small kitchen smiling about your own little joke when you noticed him. He also smiled when he looked at you.

“Someone’s in a good mood” he said, gesturing towards you with his own coffee mug in his hand.

“I’m just good at entertaining myself it seems.” You stepped closer to him to get a mug out from the cupboard, which was right next to him. He didn’t move when you opened it and stretched your arm to get your favourite mug from the shelf, the move making your shirt untucked and the skin at your hips exposed a little.

“I would say you are pretty entertaining in general. I’m glad you are feeling better.” You poured yourself a cup of coffee while he was slowly drinking his own. He didn’t seem like he was in a rush.

“You can say that, yes” you replied, your voice getting a little shaky at the end of the sentence when you felt the strange feeling in your chest again. A tingling sensation, starting in your chest then spreading through your veins when he stood so close next to you. “I’m a bit nervous about the quarter deadlines.”

“You are?” he asked with surprise in his voice.

“Of course, I still haven’t reached my targets in sales, and I need to by the end of the week. I also have lots of administration that I still need to do, and I’m just not good at this…” Your words came out of your mouth very quickly, and you felt yourself starting to ramble so to avoid that you quickly took a sip out of your coffee. It tasted horrible.

“Hey” he said in the sweetest voice you’ve ever heard as he put his hand on your forearm. It felt like your brain glitched for a second when his skin touched yours, and even though it was an innocent gesture, you felt the tingling sensation turn into straight up fire in your veins. Your heart started to beat rapidly in your chest, and you weren’t sure that he didn’t notice that. “You’ll do amazing, I know. And if you need anything from me, don’t be afraid to ask. I’d be happy to help.”

“Thank you” you said, your voice just a little lower than you wanted it to be. You scratched your throat before you spoke again. “I better get back to work. Complaining here won’t sell that paper.” He chuckled in response, and you took your mug to your table and sat down. You rubbed your eyes and sighed before looking up at your screen. It took you a few minutes to calm your nerves, then you delved back to work.

Probably fifteen minutes after you’ve sat down and the next distraction already arrived. Kelly.

“Soooo…” she started her sentence, sitting on the chair next to you, her eyebrows raised.

“So what?” You asked with genuine curiosity, as you had no idea what she wanted. Have you not sent your customer evaluations yet?

“What is going on with you?”

“With me? Um… nothing?” You cocked your brow at her while searching her face.

“Stop acting like you don’t know what I’m talking about!” She was basically whisper-shouting at you. And you genuinely had no idea what she meant.

“I’m sorry Kelly, I really have a lot of work that I have to finish, so if you don’t mind-” you started, but she interrupted you.

“Are you and Jim together?” The sudden question surprised you so much that you choked on your own spit. “Don’t be so dramatic, I see through you.”

“Why would you even think that? No, we are not together!” You looked around yourself before speaking, and lowering your voice to make sure no one else could hear what you were discussing. Kelly was not so discreet.

“Don’t play dumb on me, I saw you two in the kitchen earlier having a little moment!”

“A moment? No, no we were just talking about work” you replied and shook your head at her.

“With his hands on your arm? Yeah right” she scoffed and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Don’t be silly, that’s just a thing he does. He does that all the time.”

“Yeah, with you!” She snapped back and gave you a knowing look. You furrowed your eyebrows at her in confusion. “He never touched my arm. Or Meredith’s. Or anyone’s other than you.”

“You’re making this up.”

“Why would I?” She scoffed, but you gave her a knowing look and she rolled her eyes. “Okay of course I would, but not this time! I’m just saying you can’t fool me!”

“Yeah, you’re onto me Kelly. Now please, I need to get a lot of work done if I don’t want to get fired. How would I continue my top-secret office romance then?” You asked sarcastically and waved with your hands.

“Okay-okay, no need to be mean about it!” She stood up from the chair and waltzed back to her desk, where she could delve into her own office romance.

What she said didn’t leave your mind though. Was that true? You wouldn’t put it past her to stir up some gossip and drama just for entertainment. But would she really lie to you like that? What would she gain from it? And if she didn’t lie, what did that mean? Somehow you couldn’t decide if you’d prefer her lying or telling the truth.

Even if you were the only one Jim touched like that, that didn’t mean anything. It’s not like you wanted him to touch you like that. At least it was easier to convince yourself of that. This whole thing didn’t make any sense. You came to the conclusion that Kelly was just trying to get a reaction out of you with her story and there’s nothing more to it.

You delved back into work to try to keep your mind off this, you had enough stuff to worry about already. You spent the first half of the afternoon calling clients and trying to get new deals from the old leads you got from your predecessor – lots of them were completely useless. Suddenly you saw the others stand up and head towards the door.

“Aren’t you coming?” You heard Kelly’s voice. “Michael expects everyone in the meeting room.”

“Sure, I’ll be there in a second!” You quickly turned back to your computer and typed in a few things about your last deal before you forgot, then headed after the others. When you looked inside the room you saw most people already in there, Jim included. He waved at you from the last row and gestured at the empty seat next to himself. Your heart fluttered and you made your way over to him.

“Thanks, best seat in the house” you said, smiling.

“Absolutely. maybe this way we can get away without getting into a super awkward Michael Scott skit” he said while he crossed his arms and shot you a mischievous smile.

“Maybe we’ll be safe from that today, who knows. Have faith, Halpert!”

“I think you might be too optimistic on this one! How about a bet?”

“What kind of bet?” You raised your eyebrows at him.

“I bet that we won’t get away without an awkward Michael situation.”

“I feel like this is a very risky bet on my part, but oh well. What does the winner get?”

“The loser pays for the others lunch tomorrow.” He answered, smiling.

“Deal” you said and shook his hand. In that second Michael appeared in the meeting room and started talking about the quarter ending soon, and sales. The importance of the relationship with the clients.

Jim was leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest, swinging his legs slightly. Ever so slightly that his thigh would touch yours every time he did it. Your heart was beating so loud it was all you could hear. This is stupid. Jim’s chuckle snapped you out of your thoughts.

“So, what do you say? How about a little improv? Who wants to sell me some paper?” Michael asked, and of course nobody answered. Everyone was either rolling their eyes or tried to look the other way so they don’t get picked. You tried to make yourself as small as you could so he wouldn’t pick you.

That’s when you felt the touch of a warm hand on your wrist, and it immediately flew to the air. You shot a horrified look at Jim, who was raising your hand for you.

“Ah, perfect, perfect!” You heard the voice coming from the front of the room, and you mouthed an “I’ll kill you!” at Jim. He just chuckled at you.

“You’ll do great!” He whispered and let go of your hand. You were so baffled you couldn’t even answer or object to being selected. Of course, let’s mess with the new staff. That’s fine.

You walked and stood next to Michael who was giggling like a little kid, being very excited about his improv exercise. As every improv with him, this ended up having a secret agent scene involved, where he would save you from an unknown threat, and that’s why he was disguised as a customer wanting to buy paper. You actually couldn’t be mad at him, because his joy was contagious. However, you were kind of mad at Jim.

You plopped down onto your seat next to him, crossing your arms, not looking his way. He scooched closer to you, his thigh now completely pressed against yours. His touch and closeness made you dizzy. Then he leaned towards you, but you didn’t turn towards him.

“I won” he whispered into your ear, and you felt a chill run down your spine as his breath warmed your skin. You felt heat rise in your body, and you started to feel lightheaded from him being so close to you. You immediately turned your head towards him. He was grinning like a child.

“No, you cheated!”

“Did I? I don’t know about that.”

“Yes, you did. I thought more of you, Halpert. Just text me what you want to eat tomorrow” you said and got up as the meeting ended, and you bolted towards the restroom, locking yourself in a stall.

You let out a shaky breath and you buried your face into your hands. This is nothing. It’s nothing. Damn it, Kelly. Why did she have to say those things? You felt like a schoolgirl with your silly little crush on your coworker, but all these things didn’t leave your mind. But even if it was true, even if Jim liked you, what then? Would you start dating? Would you just continue this office flirting forever? Would you just eventually fuck after an office party and completely forget it the next day?

That thought poisoned your mind with images that you didn’t want to think about, especially not in your workplace’s bathroom. But you couldn’t help it, and you felt the heat rise in your body again.

“Fucking hell” you breathed, shaking your head as if you could just shake those thoughts out. You stood up and left the restroom, heading straight back to your desk, not looking anywhere. You didn’t want to talk to anyone, you just wanted to finish working, go home, where you could work these frustrations out in peace. Yes, that seemed like a good plan. Somewhat good.

The time went by excruciatingly slowly. And it didn’t help that you couldn’t focus on your work because your head was full of thoughts about him. And you couldn’t shake them off. You had to finish your report by tomorrow morning at the latest, so your plan of quickly finishing the job and going home failed spectacularly. People had already started to leave the office as their day ended.

You were somewhat happy that you could work without Kelly and Ryan bothering you all the time, but you definitely were not happy about the thought of you having to be there for who knows how long. You hated overtime, but you couldn’t afford not to finish these reports. You rubbed your eyes and looked back at the screen of your monitor, at the names, addresses, numbers. It all felt so meaningless.

After about an hour of numbers, formulas and spreadsheets, you were done with the first half. You definitely needed to stretch your legs, so you decided to quickly print this before finishing the rest. You stood up from your chair, stretched your back a little and walked to your printer. You felt like the universe was taunting you when you saw the big “ERROR” message on the screen. You threw your head back and let out a dramatic groan before you made your way to the printer in the front of the office.

And then you felt like the universe was playing some kind of a joke on you when you saw Jim sitting at his desk.

Read Part II here.

[writingjourney]

⛧ WIP Wednesday ⛧

as of now untitled Secondo fic based on this premise – 2.9k words, fem!reader, third person pov, suggestive, inexperienced!reader talks about sex, 18+

edit: here is the finished fic

excerpt from: I – Confession

It is late, his duties almost over, and it is not a rare thing for someone to purposely arrive at this hour, usually when the matter they seek to discuss is of an especially delicate nature. Before he can speak, however, the Sister on the other of the lattice already falls into her confession.

“Forgive me Papa, I know the hour is late and you have lent your ear to many Siblings already but I must–” A deep breath and he sits up straighter as he realises who is talking on the other side. “I must confess that your kind words a few days ago have encouraged me to ask for your counsel in a matter that has been giving me many sleepless nights as of late.”

With no small amount of confusion he realises that she too must mean his brother. He is unaware of such an incident as the one she is describing and last he saw her – this very evening when she left her office with that heavy bag slung over her shoulder – she did not give a hint at being weighed down by something else.

Before he can make himself known, she is already continuing, the words flowing out of her so fast that he can sense the nervousness in her speech. “Perhaps I should start by telling you that I know, as you said, that there is no shame in inexperience and I am aware I am far from the only one who might be insecure about these things. However, the fact of the matter is… there is someone rather experienced who I have become infatuated with. A man, to be precise.” Another deep breath. “He doesn’t know about any of this and he might not even feel the same way about me but still I fear that he might be sorely disappointed if he… if he ever did decide to be intimate with me and found out how very… lacking I am. And I am not talking about sex, per se, it is rather… It is rather that I have never performed a specific act during my past encounters and I know that I will struggle with it.”

“And what act would that be?” he asks, without thinking.

She audibly startles, though she is trying to hide her gasp. For a second she says nothing, then she stammers out, “Oh, this is– Papa– I don’t–”

“Mi dispiace, sorella, you may have expected my brother to be here tonight. I can assure you, however, that you can confide in me just the same.”

Hurried breathing, he fights off an amused smile at her reaction. “But– because we work together–”

“I assure you of my discretion,” he replies. “I have done this for many decades, sorella. None of what we speak about in here will leave the confines of the confessional.”

She takes a moment to consider, perhaps feeling trapped now which is not his intent. He gives her time, the quiet settling once again. After spending so much time together he can’t shake that hint of disappointment that she’d go to his brother of all people, that she still seems too wary to confide in him.

“It’s just–” She takes a deep breath and he fights the urge to take a look at her through the lattice. “Will you be disappointed in me that I feel ashamed of my own inexperience?”

Ah. Is that what kept her from confiding in him? That fear that his good opinion of her might change? “I will never be disappointed by something like this, sorella,” he assures her. “I am only disappointed that you still distrust me so.”

“I trust you,” she stresses. “I do trust you. I think you’re the person who knows me best in this ministry but I do not want things to change between us. You’re… you’re the closest I have to a real friend.”

He cocks his head, surprised by this admission. “I promise you this will not change. I am here, cara. Take your time.”

For a second, she does not speak, shifts around on the bench. He hears her take a few shaky breaths and while this is not out of the ordinary it is unusual for her. Secondo did not take her reluctance for insecurity before tonight, confident as she is in her work, in dealing so well with him of all people. It is endearing to him, makes his heart ache inside his hollow chest in a way he doesn’t quite understand.

“I have been with people,” she says, then, “but it wasn’t… it wasn’t ever anything special. Some… some fumbling, kisses that escalated and ultimately just a sort of disappointingly quick conclusion. I’ve not been very adventurous, it is hard for me to trust people so intimately with my body.”

“And there is nothing wrong with that,” he assures her, glued to her every word.

“Thank you for saying that.” Another pause. “It is just, now that… there is this man, I realised that I am lacking the skills that… that he might be used to. He is experienced and he knows what he wants which is something I find very attractive. And yes, this should not change his feelings for me, if he has any feelings for me, but if he does not want to take things beyond the physical nature of it then this might put a quick end to whatever is between us. Before I have a chance to convince him.”

“I see.” Secondo tries not to be vexed by this, the idea of helping her to please another man. “Sorella, dolce ragazza, will you tell me what it is that you are so intimidated by? Is it an usual thing this man wants from you?”

“No, that’s the thing, Papa. It is not unusual at all, it is… Satan, this is pitiful.” She groans into her hands. “It’s the fact that I have never pleased a man with… with my mouth.”

“Ah.”

“I know this is… it is such a basic thing,” she rambles on. “I am embarrassed, I should not be so worried about it but it’s that I… I am sort of sensitive if you understand what I mean and I’m afraid if I tried… it’d just end in a pathetic performance and he’d decide that he can do better.”

He can feel the blood draining from his face, pooling lower into his body. Only briefly is he irritated by this, being aroused by the mere fraction of the idea of feeling her gagging on his cock. But he can’t indulge this now, not when she is this upset about it. “Sorella, I do not have to tell you that he is not worth your time if this is his reaction.”

“I know and he might not– this might not happen. But with this fear, I’m sure my nerves will make it even worse. I just don’t want to get hurt.”

Secondo takes a deep breath and shifts to sit more upright, leaning towards the lattice now. “As I see it, there are two ways to soothe your worries, sorella. You must confess to him when the time arrives and you wish to please him – and you must tell him truthfully. If he is a man deserving of you he will neither laugh nor judge but guide you with patience. But you must want it, sorella. Remember that every act of sin in Lucifer’s name is one of great enthusiasm, not one of pressure or a sense of duty. If you never wish to perform this act for discomfort or any other reason then he must be understanding of this as well and respect your wishes.”

“But what if he isn’t, Papa? What if he doesn’t want to be with me when he finds out?”

“Then he is not a man that should ever be allowed to touch another person, let alone you. If this should happen, sorella, or if he forces you to do things you do not want, then you will come to me, yes? Promise me.”

She seems taken aback by his vehemence, quiet for a while, but then he sees the shadow of her nodding her head. “I promise.” He hears a sniffle, one that tears right through him. He hasn’t noticed her crying. “But… but what is the other way, Papa?”

Closing his eyes, he fights off the urge to step out of this booth and properly comfort her. He has ulterior motives, of course, biting at him like tiny parasites, not necessarily a bad conscience, he does mean to help her, but the urges underneath are anything but good.

“If you truly wish to learn, then they key is practice – with your hands, with a safe tool or perhaps… an experienced guide.”

He waits for her reaction now, hoping he did not overstep, that he has been reading her right and despite her feelings for another man she still harbours this attraction to him that he’s sensed when they work. He should not be toying with her in such a vulnerable moment, no, but if it would help guide her into arms he knows will keep her safe?

“A guide?” she asks.

He fights off a satisfied smile, curious as ever. “Someone you trust, sorella. Someone with experience and patience to show you how it is done.”

“I could not ask anyone of such a thing, Papa. They’d think I’ve lost my mind.”

“Would they?” he replies, then, unable to hold it back, “Who would you ask, sorella? My brother?”

“No!” Her voice rising. “It’s not like that, Papa. I did not– I just wanted reassurance from him, not to– I don’t think about him like that. And I don’t imagine anyone would voluntarily offer to be subjected to shitty blowjobs for a few weeks.”

“Sorella, you trust me?”

This time, she does not hesitate. “I do, Papa.”

“Then will you come over?”

“Come ov– right now?”

“Yes.”

He hears the wood creaking when she gets up, the soft opening and closing of the door to her booth. In front of his door she hesitates and he almost thinks this is the moment she’ll run away but then, with a visibly shaking hand, she opens. Moonlight streams in, illuminating her face that is still streaked with silent tears. He holds out a hand, and although it is a tight space she fits perfectly into his lap when he drags her there. If she notices that he’s already half-hard she does not comment, secured with a hand around his shoulder.

“Sorella,” he whispers, wiping at her cheeks. “It pains me to see you like this. You should have come to me a long time ago.”

“I know, Papa.”

“Will you let me help you now?”

She glances away, tensing. “I– Would you truly want to?”

“Yes.”

“And not out of pity?”

“No pity, cara.”

She eases in his grasp, allows him to cradle her face in his warm leather gloves. He knows they feel good on the skin, smell of the woodsy oil he uses to keep them soft. It tugs at him, that she is so distressed because of a man who is most likely not even worthy of her. No one is, though, that he knows. And he’d keep her alone if he could, their days spent down in the basement, sorting through his collection between bouts of frantic sex and good food. He’d show her everything, patiently, make her feel so good she’d never think about another man’s cock ever again.

“I’m scared to disappoint,” she admits, then, unusually small.

“I know,” he says. “You want to be good at everything you do, hm? I have noticed this with your work. But we cannot be good at everything right away. I was not, I assure you.”

“You’ve done it before?”

He nods, thumbs stroking over her soft cheeks. “I have done many things, some of which I was good at some of which were just not as good as in my head, hm? It does not matter if you are the best at it, ragazza mia, it matters that you enjoy it just as much as the man who receives it. Or at the very least that you do not mind doing it for someone you like.”

She smiles and he can see her finding back to herself, her gaze stronger, her hands on him firmer, assuring him that she does want to be here, do this with him. Shifting his weight a little he leans back so that she can rest more comfortably in his lap, leaning against the wooden side of the booth. His fingers stroke along her  jaw now, one hand moving to her hip while the other traces the curve below her ear, then forward to her chin, over to the other side. He does it until she’s relaxed, used to his touch.

Then he toys with her mouth. She tenses only shortly, allows him to part her lips, completely enraptured by his ministrations. It’s how he’s seen her look at him during mass, one of the few Siblings who never misses any of those he leads. A smile spreads on his lips, pride that she does indeed trust him, perhaps even longs for him, the intimacy he offers, his company. Slow movements, a finger tracing her bottom lip, feeling her teeth against the tip of it.

More daring, he pushes his thumb inside, makes her spread her mouth open wider. She shivers but allows it, her eyes never leaving his. The muscles in her jaw are tense. After a moment he removes his hand, tugs at his glove until it comes off. Perhaps tasting skin will make it more familiar and he has to admit that the thought of feeling her warm mouth on his finger makes his own heart speed up, that heat in his lower belly simmering on a steady flame.

“Is this good?” he asks.

She nods.

“Words, my dove, I need to hear it.”

“It’s okay, Papa.”

“Brava.”

He begins by tracing her lips again. This time, he inserts his index finger, longer, pushing further inside. When he sees that she tolerates it he adds his middle finger, a little deeper once again. He does not let it deter him when she gags right away, just retreats a little before going back to where she was comfortable. His fingers are big, he is aware of it, and she has never taken anyone into her mouth, something that thrills him more than he wants to admit to her face. If it takes him a long time to get her to take all of him then it only means that whatever man she was talking about will slip further and further from her mind.

“Not everyone is comfortable taking things in their mouth,” he explains. “It is only natural for the body to fight off the intrusion when unused to it, hm? It is for survival, sorella, it wants to protect you and you cannot blame it for that. But if you wish it so then we can practice and it will be easier with time. Do you want that?”

She nods, mumbling an affirmative around his digits. He smiles, lifts his other hand to pet her jaw encouragingly. Once again he presses down a little harder, goes a little deeper, and this time she is prepared.

“Breathe through your nose,” he instructs. “Relax your muscles, it makes it easier.”

She tries, he sees it, feels her breath against his knuckles. But it only lasts for a short time before she gags again, sensitive just like she’d said, perhaps even more so than he’s expected. But it is good, he thinks, this is perfect. He can show her, the ideal excuse to be close to her like this.

“Shhh,” he coos when she struggles to breathe, removing his fingers to the tips of her lips. “We will get you there, my dove. Do not worry any longer, your Papa will help you. You only have to trust me and you do, do you not?”

Another nod. At his raised brow she speaks, “I trust you, Papa. More than anyone.”

“Good. We will not go any further now. I want you to think about it, sorella, make sure this is what you want, yes? The next time I see you we will try again and perhaps we will try more if you are ready. We can go as slow as you need, but now you need some rest. I do not want to hear about sleepless nights again, at least not if I am not the cause of it.”

She nods, shifts in his lap, the arousal sitting uncomfortable between her legs and he knows he mirrors this discomfort, unable to keep his hips completely still. It is not for tonight, however, too much for her to work through already. But she looks grateful, he thinks, her eyes stay dry and the relief is palpable as her body finally relaxes.

This time, she does not forget. “Goodnight, Papa,” she whispers and leans in, pressing her face to his to exchange those wet cheek kisses. He holds still, waits for her to kiss his first, loudly, before he reciprocates. When she breaks away a hint of mischief is laced into her smile. “And thank you.”

His hands tighten on her hips for a second, keeping her there in his lap and holding her gaze with all that he wants to promise. Satisfied that she returns it without as much as a flinch, he releases her and she slides off his lap, leaving the booth without another sound.

“Goodnight, indeed,” he whispers, adjusting the bulge in his pants underneath his cassock. When he picks up his book the words swim on the page. He still has another hour.

─── ⛧ ✦ ⛧ ───

i am SO excited to hopefully share this fic soon, it's finally inspired me to write lengthier again and yeah, it's one of those cases where i was suddenly at 5k words after part I of V. so... it'll be a chonker!

[girlsdads]

tagged by @annebd for WIP wednesday friday... instead of a WIP snippet have something that i don't really know what else to do with but i didn't hate so :-)

Max’s phone lights up with Daniel’s name while he’s sitting in hospitality the morning of race day. It’s face-up on the arm of the sofa—Max watches as it catches the eye of Lawson next to him. Possessiveness rises like bile in his throat. He snatches the phone as quickly as he can, cradles it to his chest like that would erase the letters of Daniel’s name from Lawson’s memory.

“Whatever, mate,” Lawson quips, rolling his eyes. Like anyone was talking to him, anyway. Like Max gives a fuck if he’s here or not. Like they’re mates, and he’s not someone Max is contractually obligated to be cordial to.

“Clean up your crumbs, when you are finished,” Max says as he stands, sweeping his gaze pointedly over the spray of chocolate chip muffin debris covering Lawson’s lap and the sofa cushion beside him. He doesn’t wait for Lawson’s response before stalking from the room. He thinks about the stacks of keto-friendly protein bars going stale back in his motorhome and hates Lawson that much more.

Max waits until he’s closed the motorhome door behind him to open Daniel’s text.

It’s stupid, he knows, to want to do this in private. Everyone knows he talks to Daniel still, probably no one would think it strange or pathetic for Max to be texting him now. Daniel had said—Max had known he wouldn’t be here, this weekend, or any weekend. Max understands, in his own way, despite how bereft he always feels, during.

But. It is a race day and Daniel is texting him. Daniel hasn’t texted on a race weekend since, well—since. He had facetimed the day after Brazil, relaxed and happy and congratulating Max from New York. They keep a running conversation during off weeks, Daniel sending picture after picture of himself with arms around his friends, some Max knows, some he doesn’t. Max saves the photos to a hidden folder on his phone, crops them all so it’s only Daniel. Sometimes it leaves him missing an arm, or two, but he can’t stand to see Daniel with all these people who aren’t Max. In turn, Max sends him videos of the cats, memes he hopes will make Daniel laugh, updates on the funny-looking bird that has been building a nest on Max’s balcony.

(That’s my—what’s the little animal friend that witches have—my familiar, Maximus! I sent him to watch over you, obviously. Be nice to him.) That message had gone into the secret folder, too.

Race weekends are radio silence. Max has come to terms with that, knows it isn’t personal, that it’s an open wound Daniel is nursing. So for Daniel to reach out, today of all days, Max can’t help the stab of yearning in his belly. It could be an important day, for Max, maybe Daniel decided—maybe he’s said he’s hopped a plane, he’s driving out from LA, he’ll be here before the chequered flag—

Max couldn’t bear it if anyone else were around, if that’s not what Daniel’s message says. Even alone, he feels like a hermit crab that’s outgrown its shell, hope leaving him soft-bellied and vulnerable.

He swipes open his and Daniel’s message chain.

Daniel’s not coming to Vegas. At least, that’s not what he’s texted.

The text is a picture. Max’s eyes are drawn immediately to Daniel, though he’s only in about one quarter of the frame. If he was trying to take a selfie, he did not do such a good job--it's mostly a shot of the dusty-red ground, Daniel's beautiful face peeking in from the top corner. He’s wearing his dirt biking clothes, sweat darkening the pits of his long sleeves where his arm is lifted to make a thumbs-up. His pinky still doesn't quite fold in next to the rest of his fingers. Max wants to kiss the careful bend of his knuckle.

It's a few long moments before Max even registers what's etched into the earth behind Daniel. It is very obvious, then, why Daniel is sending this now. There in the California dirt, Daniel has used a stick or maybe even one of his long, lovely fingers to write 3 + 1 = 4. A wobbly heart is drawn around the whole thing.

Max is infinitely grateful for the lack of prying eyes as he sinks slowly to the floor. He draws his knees up to his chest and cradles the phone in cupped hands, as if the message will be sucked back into the ether if he grips too tightly. He lightly taps to full-screen the image, zooms in on Daniel's face. The soft, almost awkward smile is the same one Max has only ever seen directed at him. He knows this, because he's spent years cataloguing Daniel's interactions with others, longing and longing. Daniel never makes that face at anyone else.

Max's phone buzzes as another text comes through. Daniel's hands reaching through the wire to squeeze Max's heart until it leaks out between his fingers.

Always cheering for you, Max. Give 'em hell for me.

[starryeyedstray]

connor visits detroit's newest botanical garden but it looks a little too familiar...

"The garden is indoors?" North asked as they arrived at their destination.

"Correct. Given Detroit's natural climate, it would be difficult to sustain a botanical garden year round. So they've opted to create the garden inside something akin to a greenhouse."

"Leave it to humans to put nature in a tiny box they can control," North murmured as she stared up at the building. "Why did Markus want us to come here again?"

"It's supposed to be help relieve stress."

North gave Connor a skeptical look. He shrugged in response. Nature offered calming effects on humans, but Connor had some doubts whether that would hold true for deviants.

North sighed, "I guess we shouldn't keep them waiting."

They stepped inside and were greeted with a small garden. A stone paved path snaked around a central pond. White and wooden bridges connected to a small island in the center with a rose trellis. An artificial blue sky almost indistinguishable from reality stretched above them.

It was the Zen Garden. Amanda's Zen Garden. Connor froze while his OS unhelpfully told him that his stress levels had spiked.

Why was this here? His eyes flickered around. No mission telling him to talk to Amanda. No Amanda. This was fine. It was not fine.

"This is actually really pretty," North said in awe as she looked up at the cherry blossom tree. "Can't believe we're inside. They made the sky looks so real."

Markus, Simon, and Josh appeared from the path at their left.

"Hey, glad you guys made it!" Markus smiled as North greeted him and Connor nodded in response.

The deviant leader pouted when he noticed Connor, but quickly recovered as he turned to North. "It's pretty, isn't it? We already walked through most of it since it's pretty small, but Josh and Simon can show you around. I have something to talk about with Connor privately first."

"Sure thing, Markus," North said before shooting a curious glance at Connor who still was rooted in place at the entrance. The trio went back up the path on the left.

Markus turned to Connor. "C'mon, Connor, let's take a walk."

Connor nodded again and stiffly followed him as they took the path to the right. "What did you need to speak with me about?" Connor asked to distract himself. He tried to keep himself calm. Keep his LED blue.

Apparently, he was doing an inadequate job because Markus' eyes flickered up to his LED before meeting his eyes. Connor didn't see a benefit in removing his LED before, but having everyone able to have a general idea of his current mental state at a glance felt a bit violating which made him reconsider his decision.

"Is something bothering you?" Markus asked.

It was very typical of Markus to ask him that despite being able to definitively discern that something was indeed bothering him. Connor looked away. He was tempted to lie, but he'd have to explain why his LED was yellow if something wasn't bothering him. He's never told anyone about Amanda before. Should he tell Markus?

His thoughts were ripped away from him as he noticed a white headstone inside a small clearing at the edge of the path.

No.

This wasn't the Zen Garden. It couldn't be here. It wouldn't make sense to see it here.

He didn't hear Markus call after him as he quickly walked ahead to crouch in front of the headstone.

sorry but this wip has been sitting in my drafts since december and i don't think i'll ever finish it bc it was just a vague phantasm of an idea. it was gonna just rot in there so decided to post the unfinished idea here since i haven't posted a fic in a bit. my apologies for it's half-baked condition u_u i'll probably post it on my ao3 if i ever develop it more but for now this is all i got

[scribblecon]

Hooogh I’ve had this in my wips for a while and finally finished it. Untitled Skids x reader because it’s almost 2am and I just want to post it I can’t faff about deciding on a title right now lol

SFW, GN reader

—

“Skids! You made it!” You exclaim, arms open as Skids enters your habsuite.

“How could I pass up spending time with you?” He throws you a lazy smile before taking a look around the room. He notices what appears to be a workstation set up on the desk with some materials you’d been gradually collecting from various planets the Lost Light had stopped at on its travels. “Er, what, exactly, is this by the way? Some kind of experiment?”

You break out into a grin as you tell him to sit down and switch to his holo avatar, then start explaining. How you remembered him saying he doesn’t have any hobbies because he gets bored of things once he masters them, and that got you thinking, what if there’s a skill no one can truly master? You’re not sure about Cybertronians but humans have been arguing about and striving to perfect different art forms for centuries, so, why not start with painting?

Now in his avatar, Skids joins you on the desk to inspects your materials. It’s nice of you to think of him like this, but it’s only a matter of time before his brain starts piecing things together and he gets restless for something else to do. At least it’s an excuse to spend time with you.

“Now, I know what you’re thinking,” You interrupt Skids’s train of thought, patting his avatar’s shoulder. “You’ll just master painting like you have with all your other skills. But I want you to go into this with no examples or references. Paint something from the heart. Or, uh, spark, in your case. You know what I mean.”

“From the spark.” He turns to face you, raising an eyebrow. Still not fully convinced, but interested.

“… I’m going to explain the basic properties of oil painting so you don’t destroy any of my stuff by accident and then turn you loose on a canvas. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like you’re throwing me in at the deep end.”

“And when has that ever been a problem for you?”

—

You’re hard at work directly opposite him, having arranged the easels so that he ‘couldn’t cheat’ by watching your own creative process, but Skids has no idea where to start. Self expression does not come easily to mechs that have been fighting for millions of years. Staring at the colours you had set out for him, he picks one at random and squeezes it onto the palette. He’ll just make something up as he goes and say it’s abstract expressionism.

What started out as picking colours at random has turned into something far more methodical and an exercise in frustration. There’s something in the back of his mind that he can’t quite remember but as he smears another streak of orange across the canvas the memory feels more tangible, only for it to evade him just as he feels like it’s within reach. Swapping out brushes for palette knives, he builds up layers of texture, carving out shapes in some areas and spreading paint around in others.

Ready to take a break, you drop your brush in a jar of turpentine and walk over to see how Skids is doing. “Woah. It’s like staring into a pool of magma.” You can’t quite put your finger on it, but something about the painting makes you uneasy. “A little unsettling when you look at it for too long though, don’t you think?”

“Unsettling?” Taking a step back, he frowns as he wipes off the palette knife in his hand. That hadn’t been his intention. He kind of sees what you mean though. In a sea of oranges and yellows so bright they almost glow against the dark background, right in the centre there’s some marks that look like part of a face in the midst of an inferno. He hadn’t put a face there on purpose, but now he’s spotted it, he can’t unsee it.

“It’s not a bad thing.” You murmur. “Are you alright though? You looked pretty intense earlier.”

“Nah, I’m fine.” He can feel his head starting to hurt. “Using a holo-matter for too long can really wear a guy out, though. Time to call it a day?”

“Oh, god,” checking the time, you realise several hours have passed. “We’ve been working for a while, huh?”

“It’s no bother,” He says, avatar dissipating. It takes a moment before his optics switch back on and he continues speaking. “Really, It was interesting. We should do this again. Now how about you clean yourself up and we head to Swerve’s?”

You look at your hands and down at your clothes, marred with paint stains. “Sounds like a plan. Give me 10 minutes.”

[strayrockette]

The Dragon & The Griffon

Where The Path Leads-A Taste

Masterlist Next Chapter

a/n: I didn't think I would be coming back with a story and to be completely honest, I fully believed my creative drive had been zapped. However, @mysticalpandora gave me a challenge and it somehow led me here???? I'm gonna roll with it. My list of unfinished drafts is growing, but I am determined to finish at least 1 WIP.

If anyone is interested in where this ride goes, DM me and ask to be tagged. Like & Reblog if you enjoyed the read! And comment your thoughts if you have any. I enjoy reading them!!

Her purple eyes glitter with quiet contemplation. She is calm, composed, absolutely beautiful, he thinks to himself. His calculative and appraising eyes take stock of this daring girl no woman that stands before him, and deep within him is a hunger for a hunt.

The Na-Baron had yet to come across someone who could stand so still within his presence.

This excites him. This may be a season of true satiation. A thrill of a hunt that lasted far beyond his arena kills. Far beyond the meager missions, his uncle sends him on to create distance from his people’s adoration and praise. A reminder that he is yet to be The Baron.

His uncle was not immune to his potential. He held a guarded edge around him when he was near. If it was true fear, or anticipation for his succession was unclear. One could say both.

“If you should use my gifts to aid in your fight, I will have my answer.” She stares directly into his eyes. Her jaw is relaxed and she pulls her lips into a teasing smile, “Worry not, Na-Baron, I can take no for an answer.”

He bares his black teeth in a mock smile, his answer comes in a raspy deep lull, “The answer has already been decided for us, little dragon”

He looks at the two deep ebony daggers that sit neatly in the box she had placed on the high table in the corner of the room, its sharpened blades glowing in the dim light of his changing rooms near the arena. The excited screams of his people chanting his name break the silence.

The tip of the dagger's, curve near its end. All along the blade is an engraving of silhouettes, tiny dragons flapping their wings. He realizes the engravings are shining silver.

He knows no one in the boxed seatings would be able to tell what the engravings were but he almost purrs outwardly in delight. A silent claim from his little dragon. He wonders if she realizes just what game she’s playing.

“Yes, however..” She pauses, her eyes drop to her clasped hands, her fingertips tapping against each other, a sign of nervousness, he notes. As if hearing his observation she stops and rearranges her hands so they are clasped behind her. “While this arrangement was decided before we were born, I want it to be known that I am not unwilling to be your wife or have you as my husband”

She pauses once more. He can practically hear her thinking with the way her eyes furrow and her lips pursed in consideration of the words she says. Because words have meaning and none of it should be spent on idle chit-chat or false pretenses.

A rare oddity that most others fail to recognize. He wonders if her words are hiding who she is. If beneath her elegant and calm demeanor lies something weaker. Something inside him wants to see her unravel.

“If we are to go into this arrangement, I would like for us to go into it as equal partners. Your fight becomes my fight, and mine becomes yours.” She moves to the side to dip her fingers into the bowl of black oil. The servant who holds it cowers away, as if afraid to be associated with her candor.

She’s gathered too much, it drips onto the floor as she nears him slowly. Her eyes are entranced with his, determination clear within her purple irises. One step. There is no hesitation as she smears her hand over her mouth and down her neck. Two steps. The oil leaves a trace of four fingerprints along the path. Three steps. She reaches out to his chest. Her fingers hovered over his skin. He can feel the heat radiating from a single hand. His blue eyes hunger for more but he remains still. His mocking smile turns into amusement. My little dragon is brave, he thinks with pride.

She pouts as a thought crosses her mind, “No one would see it.” She doesn’t realize she has said this aloud. He watches with rapid anticipation, his body grows taut as he wills himself not to move. He waits and waits and watches as she comes to a decision, her cheeks red and eyes mischievous. She gathers courage and motivation with quick movements, and her hands are suddenly on him. Trailing the top of his chest, then to his neck, finally, they nestle comfortably on either side of his face. She tugs gently, urging him to bend to her level and he allows it, purely for the entertainment.

His face is level with hers, his eyes are on her face, studying the curve of her nose, the red in her cheeks, the plumpness of her lips, and the giddy look in her violet eyes. He wants her to make eye contact. He wants her to see the monster inside him and fear for her life. He wants to see her calm demeanor slip. For her teasing tone to melt into cries of terror. It's all he knows. And he admires hates how she has yet to cower before him. But she is too busy studying the right of his cheek where her lips will claim him for all to see. She leans and presses a kiss to his aching skin.

He tightens his mouth and remains still, it would do no good to ravage her before their nuptials.

She pulls away and continues her statement, “Even if it has been decided, the fact remains that I choose you to be faithful to, to be by my side. For better or for worse, in sickness and in health. In life and in death, my soul will always seek you amongst the billions of stars and galaxies that separate us.”

He wants to snarl and bite. A part of him cannot comprehend what she is saying and he is angry. He glares, his large hands coming up to wrap around her wrists and he pulls them away from him. His skin is left wanting and his heart is enraged. It’s beating so fast and erratically and his thoughts cannot settle between slitting her throat and slamming her into a wall to be consumed by him.

“What silly nonsense you speak, little dragon. Whether I pick up the blades or not and use them in the arena, is no answer. Whether by choice or by force, you have been sold to my family for me to use as I please. You are my pet. My little dragon. Nothing more, nothing less.” As he speaks his voice gravels with rage. He knows nothing else other than the white hot boiling blood beneath his skin. Whether in pleasure or pain, there is no difference. “You are naive”

He finishes his growl with a sneer. She stumbles and her maids rush to catch her from behind. I pushed him too far, she concludes. She holds in a sigh and holds her head higher. Her chin juts out and her eyes gleam. A thought crosses her mind and a fire burns within, “If I’m so naive, then my dearest husband-to-be, it is YOUR duty to protect me.”

She cares not for his comment about being sold to House Harkonnen. In the grand plan of all things, it is the least of her worries.

He’s turned away from her and the servants, who hid quietly in the corner, rush to put his armor on. He merely grunts and clicks his tongue, “Be gone little dragon, before you find a knife in your throat”

She wants to scoff but thinks better of it. She’s gotten away with too much in the short time she burst into his changing room to accost him with her offer. She steels herself and with a quick glance at his muscled back. She wonders if she’d ever be able to get through that thick bald skull of his.

She turns and leaves, and her two maids follow dutifully. Her lips glitter with the black oil. Her four fingerprints running down to her chest is a statement in itself. The matching handprint and kiss on his skin are enough to get her message to all with eyes.

She’s sunk her claws into him and no one would tear her from him. She’s seen too much. Knows too much. Suffered too much to give up now.

No Bene gesserite, no Emperor, no Baron, and no Atreides would rip them apart. She would die faithfully, clinging onto hope, clinging onto a path with the most resistance to prove a point.

A dragon does not kneel…

it conquers.

Edited: 8/18/24

[guppybibi]

Late WIP Wednesday ..

(aaa km not sure if i should finish this, it started off strong but just fell off and now my brain isnt working)

Simon’s home & marriage was his refuge, until it wasn't. He knew something wasn't right when you were coincidentally prepared for his return, all dolled up when you greeted him with an “I miss you” kiss. No, he was sure it wasn't you when he saw that the dinner table was prepared with a generous spread of food on it.

There was no reason for you to come this prepared, everytime he comes home from deployment is a surprise. So..how exactly are you this ready? It didn't sit right with him, the whole thing felt like it came out of a painfully obvious scripted reality TV show.

But food was food and after countless weeks spent eating barely edible MRE’s, a home cooked meal was all he needed. Sluggishly, he sat down at his unsaid designated spot at the dinner table. He closely watched if you would sit down at your designated spot, if you didn't; that’d explained a lot. You do end up sitting at your spot, it wasn't all that hard to do though. Dinner with you was unsettling to say the least, all of the small talk you were making felt forced, it’s barely been an hour and he already feels like he's going crazy.

He knows more than to question you upfront though, having gone through enough interrogations to know that he should take his time and that you could get hostile if things don't go your way. You could be a threat for all he knew, and it's better to be safe than sorry. Unsure if it was the right decision, he starts out some sort of small talk himself, asking you some seemingly innocent questions.

“What were yer up to while I was gone, luv?” He asks mid chew. “Oh not much, I just picked up a new hobby actually. Clay sculpting! I've been watching online tutorials, I could say I’ve been getting the hang of it if I do say so myself.” Liar, was all he could think while he subconsciously nodded to your words. You hated clay, not fond of the texture it had and the way it’d get stuck under your nails. Perhaps it was another one of your impulsive decisions, jumping into conclusions should be the last thing he should be doing. It could cost him more harm than good, so he lets it slide. For now at least.

“Sculpting eh? That's new, have ye finished any?” He pauses, swallowing his food. “I’d love to see them.” A spark lights up in your eyes, but it didn't look right. There's a lit candle in there but it's far, far away. The lack of life in your eyes makes his stomach spin like there's a guinea pig rolling around in their wheel in there, it made him want to puke. He wasn't the biggest fan of prolonged eye contact anyway, so he’ll just avoid looking you in the eye to prevent making a mess. “Oh yeah I actually do! They're already displayed on top of our shelves, I’ll show them to you after.” You exclaim, if that was you anyway, which it wasn't.

Dinner passed at an uncomfortably slow pace, Simon swore he could hear each individual tick and tock of the clock, the scraping of utensils against the porcelain plates and each chew you took. He’s gone through debatably louder things than this, the booms of the explosions were unforgettable after all but this somehow takes the cake. Wanting to distract himself further, he helps with washing the dishes which you normally did but you specifically chose today to help do the other minor chores. Water, that was your weak point. He noticed it, you didn't drink water after dinner either. What kind of monster doesn't drink water to hydrate after eating roasted pork?

To test out this thought of his, he decided to ask another question. “I'm heading to the shower, luv. Care to join me?” Meekly, he suggests to you, deep brown eyes staring intently as he awaited the already expected answer. “Oh I..actually already showered earlier dear. Maybe next time.” A dishearteningly dismissive reply, just like he expected. “Alright, suit yourself luv. I'll be back.”

He thought about it, almost forgetting about the bubbly soap running down his body from how deep in thought he was. There was no doubt about it anymore, everything about you being you, pointed away. At this point, he didn't care what the fake you was anymore, rather where you actually were. You could've been dead for all he knew, replaced by the soulless woman that now roams around his home.

This was beyond cruel, beyond the pain physical torture could've caused. It was like the universe was a cat and he was a yarn ball, being played by it meticulously. The whole thing was definitely planned out by a certain someone he knew, the both of you are fairly private so it couldn't have been a random person. He couldn't handle this alone, as much as he’d hate to admit, the situation was way bigger than him to do alone. So, he decides to call a trusted someone.

“You tellin’ me ye think your wife got abducted or something..and a doppelgänger replaced her?” A gruff voice questions, lightly tapping his cigar against the side of the ashtray. Price, him and Kate are the only members of the Task Force so far that Simon allowed you to meet. Well, it unfortunately looks like the sergeants won't get to meet you under these circumstances just yet. Strangely enough, the clocks inside the pub weren't working. Must be a malfunction. The masked man nodded, sighing through his nose when he got a whiff of the alcohol-filled air in the bar.

“I feel so.” He grumbled. “Couldn't she be just having an off day? We all have those, Simon.” John opposes it, it was an unquestionable possibility they couldn't simply ignore. “No, I know my wife. In my years of being with her, she's never acted this way.” Ghost hissed back, a hint of crystal clear impatience seeping out from his words. The lack of respect in his tone wasn't intended, but what could he do when his wife is apparently kidnapped and replaced so seamlessly? “I guess you have a point, but you need to confirm it Simon. You shouldn't make any decision on impulse, if the woman in your home really isn't your wife then this is a bigger issue.”

Then the plan was set, still a little all over the place but there really wasn't any time to lose. Simon would further observe the woman who's allegedly ‘you’ to make sure he isn't making things up, then if he was incredibly sure it wasn't you, he’ll head to the police and file a report for a missing person. In all honesty, it wasn't hard to do, having gone through missions more intense than this. Yet the fact that you were involved made the bugs inside of him crawl, this was totally his fault.

He didn't hide you away from the world enough, he should've just kept you locked inside a cage like the little birdie you were to avoid any danger coming your way. Simon wasn't stupid though, that was inhumane, you were one of the only few people who has managed to make Simon feel less of a ghost and more of a human. So doing such a thing to you was unethical and out of the books, but how could you blame him for subconsciously letting his possessiveness and worry take over when you're literally so far from his grasp? Being so near before that he could easily grip at the back of your top, now so far that the trace of your scent is long gone.

It makes Simon feel sick, his core being left to rot. He comes from the pub to what felt like an empty house, not home because nothing would feel like home without you there. He’d rather be living in a pile of rocks and plywood with you than in a giant mansion without you, that would be the real hell. “Bloody hell..where are you?” He murmurs under his breath, stressedly rubbing his creased forehead. If he could, he’d pry at every surface that comes up within his sight just to find you.

“I’m back.” He whispers, unsure if the fake you was asleep or not. Anyone, human or not wouldn't be happy being woken up from their slumber. “Welcome home, hun. You alright?” Looking up from your cup of tea, you ask. “Yeah, just spoke with the Captain. That's all, no alcohol.” Simon was so used to you being a worrywart about his alcohol intake, telling you that he didn't have any alcohol is practically ingrained into the wrinkles of his brain. But the woman in front of him didn't seem to care less about his health, let alone him in general. The lack of nagging that usually filled his ears to the brim didn't feel right, he would've much rather gone through another one of your yap sessions about how constant alcohol intake affects him in the long run than..just silence.

He feels the desperation inching up on him, eating him whole. At this point, he's willing to admit he doesn't want you. He needs you. He needs to hear your fretful complaints about him getting deployed, knowing you’d shut up because you were used to it by now. He needs you to tell him to include more vegetables in his diet because he's not some kind of carnivore to be eating that much meat. God, he just needs you with him. Whatever bloody thing came with you he’d take like it was on a stupid Black Friday sale.

“Not yet..” He’d think every single night, eyes wide open as he prevents himself from making a rash decision. The woman sleeping soundly right next to him, if that was you..But it wasn't, even if he stared at the unfamiliar woman for ten hours straight, she wouldn't just magically turn into you. Well sure, she was a carbon copy of you from head to toe but she simply just didn't scream ‘you’. Whatever and whoever you were anyway.

“When all is said and done, I think it'll end well Simon. My gut feeling tells me so, it's rarely ever wrong so I’m pretty sure we should trust it.” You ramble on and on, the little amount of alcohol taking over your lightweight self. Simon was still courting you here, yet he remembers it like it's been replayed in his mind like a broken record. He trusted your gut, and he could consider that as one of the best choices he's ever made in life.

But..trusting you now? While you're probably out, all shivering & teeth clattering from the immense cold night? Impossible, he’s fully aware that you're a capable strong woman however..how far can his trust go? How far do you have to venture into someone’s soul to gain their fragile trust, something that can be easily broken with your own bare hands? Ghost doesn't trust you, but Simon does.

“You're a strong gal, you can hold on for much longer.” He supposes, deep in thought while he flipped around in bed. The fake you hasn't set off any red flags yet, acting normal. Too normal. He knew ‘you’ had a purpose for being here, one with malicious intent, though what exactly? One wouldn't simply come in here and replace his wife with a fake one just out of spite, unless they were a little cuckoo. Tossing aside to check the time, he presses the ‘on’ button on his phone. Weird, the time didn't show up. Maybe it's just a glitch in the system.

“Simon, Hey? Simon, wake up. Hurry, you need to get up.” A voice shakes, lightly nudging him in order to awake him. It's your voice, he can instantly sense its meekness. With one eye and another, they flutter open, still full of sleep in them. “Oh thank goodness, you're awake! But you seriously need to wake up, like right now.” You crooned, hoping he’d fully wake up to the sound of your voice. Groaning, Simon sat up, a few joints popping in the process. “What..? Yeah, I’m awake luv. Whad’ya need me for?” He questions groggily, eyes opening further once he gets a closer look at you. It's actually you, he can tell! The way your eyes meet his, connecting like a bee landing on a precious flower. The way your voice lilted to him like a mother bird nursing her hatchlings, it really was you.

“Wait–luv? You're here? Bloody hell, you actually are–Did you see the other gal who looked just like you? Tell me I’m not losing my shit please.” Then you shushed him, convinced he’ll continuously go on and on if you didn't. “Please listen to me closely, Simon.” You pause, noticing how his eyes bask in yours like it was long overdue. “You need to wake up, hurry.”

[haza1ll]

animation for THE NEON VOIDD BABYYYY

this post is for @sugarpasteltmnt

‼️‼️MEGA YAPPING AHEAD PLEASE BEWARE‼️‼️

this might end up being really long and rambly and sappy but maybe not who knows.( it was) (and also featuring numerous spelling errors i am way too tired to fix and i am not re reading what i just wrote) SO. yknow how when chap idek..25(?) came out and i was all like “yeah so i made this animation for TNV and ill drop it when the fic ends” in your ask box? so. I FINISHED IT RAHHH. technically it has been finished since i sent that ask but ohhh my goodness did it need polishing. i haven’t animated in 4 years before that and omg it felt so good getting back into it but IDFK SOMETHING IS STILL NOT UP TO MY STANDARDS. i feel like i could have done so much more with it and i deffo wanted to but as soon as i told myself “oh yeah this is basically done” art block literally sucker punched me in the gut out of NOWHERE. I COULD NOT PICK UP MY I PAD. I COULD NOT DRAW. I WOULD STARE AT THE WIP ANIMATION AND BE UPSET BC I DDINT WANNA WORK ON IT AHH. that goes with saying. i kept having this thought in the back of my head “you need to finish it. you have a wip sitting. finish it. go do it. what are you doing are you STARTING ANOTHER PROJECT??? anddd yeah i got super distracted with other stuff and other projects and then i started spending my free time rewatching 2012 turtles and omg this summer has been a mess. i have all the free time in the world and i choose to be the least productive as possible with it even though i have a job that lets me literally sit on my phone and do whatever i want if no one is there. (i’ve brought my switch to work numerous times ☠️) what i was trying to get at is the fact that TNV has inspired a lot of the old me to come back and i lowk missed her. i really missed the point in all those words up there but im here now so whatever. BUT. TNV made me make a tumblr account, i got back in to animation AND digital art in general, got back into longfics that are ongoing, AND it also helped kickstart ideas for writing. i’ve got so many stories now!! you are such an inspirational person pastels i just- every time i read a new chapter of yours it made me wanna go get up and do something. i wanted to create something. because at the end of each chapter, i would think- “woah. a person out there just wrote this. they just sat down one day and committed. i wanna do that” so i did that. just huge thank you and shoutout to you pastel. like damn. idk no words from me here. just a bunch of platonic hugs and kisses and thankyouthankyouthsnkuou for this lovely heart wrenching but also sweet story. i love this fandom (tmnt) so SO much and i think it’s so awesome how interactive you are with your own personal NV fans. crazy how we’re all here because of a bunch of turtles. 

STUFF ABOUT THE ANIMATION:

okay i really like to talk and if you let me, i will run my mouth. this is the internet so im gonna do just that. so more words for you to read 😁. AHEM. so like i stated before in the genuinely scary mess of words up there, i haven’t touched animation in a while, like, 4 years a while. yes i’ve done digital art here and there along the years, i haven’t been doing it nearly as much as i need to to use some programs to their full potential. layers are still confusing, and don’t even get me started on multiply and all that jazz. shading never comes out right on digital for me, i gotta work that one out. so, for this animation, i decided to go with a very rough style. nothing needed to be perfect, i just wanted to live my little life of trying to experiment with a bunch of different things all at once in one short animatic. I wanted to do that little ball bounce thing all animation artists start with (i kinda included that with the key). i also wanted to have a go at lip sync (no hate it was my first time) and also timing the animation with the music. i wanted to see how smoothly i could move a figure in and out of and out of the screen as well, which honestly, i think that part might be my favorite. i think i did a good job, and thats what matters. the animation itself lost a bunch of quality on importing it- no clue how it happened but now the ending is grainy af. ignore that pls lol- but it was sitting in my flipaclip for god, i dont even know, 3 months now? i kept going back and forth on if i wanted to share it or not, so im throwing it to the wolves and i guess whatrver happrns happens and im good with that. yay. im actually rrwlly tired now sooo *leaves this absolute pile of words with a video attached at your feet and stumbles away quickly*

also i’ve genuinely never posted anything so i’m learning how to use tumblr too ☠️

[idrellegames]

Hello all! 

Welcome to Q2. Before I go over what’s in store for the next three months, I want to revisit what has been done and catch you up on where Episode 3’s development.

The goal for Q1 was to complete the Episode 3 Finale. January started off really well, and I actually ended up about a week ahead of schedule. Unfortunately, I had a host of health problems in February which meant that I had to take additional time off of work and I was unable to make up that lost time. I did not complete the written portion of the finale by the end of March, but that being said, it is still coming along really well. There is currently around 180,000 words of uncoded alpha content and I am rapidly approaching the ending. Two of the three endings have been written, and four of the pathways through to those endings have been finished. I will go more into detail about how everything breaks down in my Q2 roadmap.

Wayfarer’s roadmap is an estimated timeline and is subject to change.  

✦ Q2 Overview – April to June 2025 

Over the next three months the goal is to complete the Episode 3 finale. Due to some extenuating circumstances (a family funeral and some other personal events), I am not going to set a goal of working on finale content in April as I need to take time off. I also need to take some time to create the next round of Patreon bonus content and short stories, as well as my social media for Instagram and Bluesky. 

May is going to be focused on getting these last variations finished, and tackling Version B. I am crossing my fingers that this will be the last month I spend writing finale content. 

If all goes well and I don’t have any more setbacks, in June I will have to decide between coding and updating the alpha build with the new content, or going back to the start of Episode 3 and working on the incomplete routes. 

✦ The State of Episode 3 — April 2025

right click to enlarge for better viewing

This flowchart is a summary of the paths, variations, and routes involved. Teal sections have been added to the alpha build; blue sections have been written, but not coded. Orange sections are WIPs. Red sections have not been drafted yet. 

There are three endings in Episode 3, and each one will determine which new companion character you will meet first in Episode 4. Ending A leads to Alexia, Ending B leads to Calla, and Ending C leads to Ren (information about these characters can be found here on the character roster). 

The finale is first divided into two major variations, Version A (which occurs if the player remained hired by Lethalis after Episode 2) and Version B (which occurs if the player was fired by Lethalis). These differences have followed them throughout the entire episode as it changes which characters are involved in certain events. 

Version A is then split into four categories based on dialogue options, choices, and faction approval. Basically, coming out of Finale Part 2 Version A, there were 29 different endings that needed be rounded up and bottlenecked. Instead of writing unique outcomes for each one, I grouped similar variations together into the four categories. Those four categories then feed into Zone 1, which has 5 subsections depending on the player’s actions. Should the player successfully pass Zone 1’s checks, they will proceed to Zone 2. They then need to pass Zone 2’s checks to proceed to Zone 3. 

With a couple of very specific exceptions, failure in Zone 1 and Zone 2 results in Ending C. Failure in Zone 3 results in Ending A. Success in Zone 3 leads to Ending B. 

While Version B reflects similar events to Version A, there are some major differences due to different character involvement. This B route will be much more streamlined than the A route, and I do not expect it to be as intensive as the A route. 

This is where the episode’s total word count and breakdown are currently sitting:

Once both Version A and Version B are complete, I will be able to return to the unfinished routes at the start of the episode. 

I do not have an estimate for the Episode 3 alpha’s release date yet. The public build will not receive any content updates until the Episode 4 alpha is complete. 

✦ Alpha Build Stats – April 2025

Average Word Count Per Playthrough: 193,900 words (approximate)

Average Playtime: 11 hours

Total Cumulative Word Count: 1,414,800 words (approximate) 

The build was last updated in July 2024. It is playable on my Patreon. If you are interested in the alpha, please note that you do not need to restart the game from the beginning. The alpha and public builds share meta data, so any public build saves can be loaded directly into the alpha and they should work.      

✦ Socials

Tumblr — @idrellegames

Instagram — @idrellegames

Bluesky — @idrellegames.bsky.social

Patreon — patreon.com/idrellegames

Thank you so much for your continued support! ❤️

~ Anna Idrelle Games

[magpiepills]

Honor and Obey

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Santiago Garcia x Santi’s wife! Reader

Word count: 3.9

Summary:you are Santi’s wife and when Frankie moves in, you have an idea that Santi helps you make a reality.

Warnings: SMUT! Threesome, sort of fucking, oral m and f receiving, m/m dynamics, sort of dom reader, sort of sub Frankie and Santi, Frankie is the Pussy Eating King, big dicks, teasing, flirting, mentions of alcohol, mentions of curls, fuck licking, cum shots, creampies, a little overstimulation, one spank, pwp, just porn. Possibly more, idk.

A word from the author: This is a repost! this has been rotting away in my WIPs for months. I am in a little slump working on Made Me Love You, so I decided to finish this to hopefully get things going again. It’s not my best work, and I may fix it up and post another version some other time. Maybe not. Who knows. Anyway, here it is.

Frankie knew exactly what he was getting into when he came to stay with his best friend and his new wife after his lady finally kicked him out. The lies and the coke and the abandonment for misguided jungle romps were finally too much for her.

When Santi offered the spare bedroom in the house they’d just bought, Frankie gladly accepted. How could he say no to a roof over his head, his best friend down the hall, and you?

It was so innocent at first that he felt like it was his fault. You’d left the door open when you showered. He didn’t mean to see you, naked and wet, patting your hair with a towel when he walked down the hall. He reluctantly looked away.

When the three of you lounged by the pool, he dove into the water when Santi untied your top and reapplied your sunscreen, then left you shiny, slick, and bare under the warm July sun. Frankie didn’t bother pretending not to look. You smiled at him and raised one knee, planting your foot on the lounge chair and letting it drop just enough to give Frankie something to think about later in his room alone, heavy cock in his fist.

Frankie couldn’t deny his attraction to you. Anyone who looked at you would fall for you. You were beautiful in an effortless way, warm and always interested in what others had to say, making everyone feel special and important. Your hair, your face, your body, your voice, Frankie knew exactly what had attracted his lovesick friend to you.

Once he understood what you wanted, he even let himself flirt with you a bit. He winked at you when your eyes met. He went commando under his gray sweatpants, settling them low on his waist, jutting his hips out just so while he stood at the foot of the couch while you read. He let his touch linger on your waist when he scooted between you and the counter in the kitchen, fingertip grazing the soft skin under your shirt, light enough that you might believe it was an accident.

•••••••••••••••••

Weeks went by, glances became stares, and brushes of bare skin became teasing touches. Frankie was in a constant state of sexual frustration. His mouth watered, his cock was half hard, he spilled his seed over his stomach every night as he thought of you. You bent over the couch, you on your knees, you sitting on his face and coming on his tongue. He imagined what you might sound like when you begged him to fuck you harder. It drove him mad.

•••••••••••••••

Your own patience was wearing thin. You weren’t sure how much longer you could restrain yourself, to play innocent, keep your hands to yourself. How many more ways could you temp him? You’d done your best to goad him into coming on to you, but he had never crossed the line from longful looks and lingering touches. Every day you wanted to push Frankie against a wall and drop to your knees taking his cock as far down your throat as you could. He just didn’t seem to be getting the message. Santi laughed at your failed seduction, he had tried to help, but couldn’t be mad at the restraint Frankie had shown with another man’s wife.

When you couldn’t wait any longer, Santiago had taken Frankie out for a drink and clapped him on the shoulder as he explained that he needed Frankie to stop being so respectful. It took several more drinks before Frankie was convinced it wasn’t a joke or a trick and that you actually wanted to fuck him and that Santi was not just ok with it, that you’d be fucking them both. His head spun, not just from the Stella.

••••••••••

Two nights later, it was time for your date as you’d taken to calling it. You had told Santi exactly what was to happen. “He’s going to be good, isn’t he Santi?” You asked him, nuzzling into his chest while you sat waiting with your husband for his best friend to get out of the shower. Santi never got tired of telling you how much he and his friend were going to enjoy sharing you. He hummed into your hair, thick arms around your waist. You let your mind drift to images of Frankie in the steamy stall, soaping his body, suds rolling down his broad chest to his soft belly. Images of his big hands sliding over his arms and to his cock. You knew it must be something special. You’d seen him in those sweatpants, knees spread wide on the couch. His bulge may as well have had a neon arrow pointing at it.

When Frankie emerged, warm and slightly damp, smelling like citrus and mint, hair damp and curling wildly, you pressed a drink into his hand and guided him to the couch next to Santiago while you took your seat in a chair across from them. Santi raises his own glass in silent, subtle greeting as you spoke, soft and sweet. There was no sense in wasting time.

“Touch him.”

Your command was gentle.

“Touch him?” Frankie asked, eyes wide and voice wavering.

You nod and smile patiently, your eyes never breaking his gaze as you sip from your glass before continuing. “Why don’t you help him out of his shirt?”

Frankie shifted up onto his knees and scooted closer to his friend, he had heard what you said too, and made room for Frankie between his legs. There was no hesitancy about him at all, just a buzz of desire and the smell of sweet cologne.

“Gotta do what she wants, Fish. Happy wife, happy life, right?” Santi’s gaze was steady and sure, leaving no room for second thoughts.

Kneeling between Santiago’s knees on the couch, he reached hesitantly for the hem, tongue slowly licking across his bottom lip as he pulled the t-shirt over his friend's head, making his thick, dark curls bounce.

Frankie tossed the shirt at your feet.

“Now yours. Let him take it off.” Your directions were cool and calm, but heat was building inside you, Santi had delivered on his promise to bring you your third and now it was time to see how he would behave for you.

Frankie kept his eyes on you as Santi leaned forward to drag the shirt up Frankie’s torso, finally revealing his strong, wide shoulders and a soft belly with a trail of dark hair leading down under his jeans.

He was perfect.

“I’d like Santi to kiss you, Frankie. Is that alright?”

Frankie nodded, but didn’t look back at his friend until Santi wrapped his warm hand around the back of his neck. Frankie let his eyes fall, glassy and half lidded, to Santi’s plush lips, then lifted them to meet the other man’s intense gaze. Frankie lifted his own hand and mirrored Santi’s grip on his neck before tilting his head slightly, just enough for Santi to catch his lips in a deep kiss.

Santi, of course, had left this part out. He had explained that his wife wanted to have sex with him, and that she wanted Santi to be there. Frankie assumed that this was some cuck kink they had and he was more than ok with that. It stroked his ego to give a woman what another man couldn’t. The prospect of Santi joining them changed the dynamic a little, but Frankie was game. Santi was handsome and flirtatious, the two men had toed the line of flirtation themselves for years. It shouldn’t have been a surprise.

••••••••••••••••

You looked on, feeling warmer by the minute, a dampness growing between your thighs as you watched two such masculine men, so powerful and strong making out for your enjoyment.

Santi’s hand drifted down Frankie’s back, and his other hand came to cup his cheek posessively. Again, Frankie mirrored his action and cradled Pope’s cheek in his hand, deepening the kiss.

“Take his pants off, Santiago.” You directed from your perch. You wanted to see who got hard first.

Santi broke the kiss, and guided Frankie to stand while he unbuttoned his jeans, drew the zipper downward, and pushed the soft denim off his narrow hips, leaving him in snug gray boxers, ones that you had picked out.

Frankie stepped out of his jeans and looked to you for approval or direction or anything, but it wasn’t necessary. The look on your face urged him on. He looped his index fingers through his friend's belt loops and pulled him closer to strip him of his pants as well, leaving him in a pair of matching underwear, just how you wanted them.

Nearly bare, the energy in the room thrummed. It felt warmer, more humid, felt as if the walls had closed in.

You didn't need to tell them what to do next, the two men, older, graying, battle scarred, no strangers to violence, held each other close and kissed with a passion that you hadn’t expected, Frankie leaned down to close the difference in their height, Santi kept a guiding hand on Frankie’s cheek.

“Alright Santiago, Francisco. I want to see you now. Both of you. All of you. Is he hard, Santi? Why don’t we find out” Santi grinned up at Frankie, and chuckled as he brought his hand to grip at the taller man’s half hard cock before hooking his fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pushing them down to the middle of his thighs.

“Tsk. I think you can do better than that, sweetheart. I need him hard. Help him out. Get on your knees for him.” Frankie’s head snapped to you, his eyes wide, unable to believe this is what you wanted. He only had to look at the way your chest heaved as you watched the men act out your fantasies to know you were serious. Santi, on the other hand, needed no confirmation. You were the boss. He had already dropped to his knees, cock in his hand, ready to show you exactly what you wanted to see.

With you in the chair soaking your panties and directing your own personal porno and Santi on the floor, tugging at his throbbing length, all of Frankie’s inhibitions evaporated. With no hesitation left, he threaded his thick fingers into Santi’s curls and pulled him close until his cheek was against his hip and his lips just inches from his quickly hardening length. “Do as she says, Pope. Suck.”

No sooner than the words left Frankie’s mouth, a shadow seemed to cross his best friend’s face and he huffed through his teeth, greedily taking Frankie’s cock into his mouth. His eyes were dark and dangerous as he stared up, groans rumbling deep in his chest as he worked the length into his throat, all for your pleasure. “That’s it. Take my cock down your throat. Suck it like you mean it.” As Frankie spoke he began to thrust his hips shallowly. He loved the power of having a strong man on his knees. Santi was a year or so younger, shorter but thick with muscle where Frankie was tall and lean. Santi’s beard grew in thicker but grayed sooner, making him look older where Frankie had maintained a bit of boyishness into his forties. Neither had ever wanted for the company of women.

“Don’t let him come.” Your words were sharp and cut through Frankie’s panting and murmuring and the squelching of his cock against the back of Santi’s throat. The men immediately stilled, and Frankie’s cock was left wet with saliva and his hands tight fists at his sides. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathed deeply, and willed himself back from the edge.

“It’s your turn now, Frankie. Help Santiago. Get him close. Frankie’s heart pounded in his chest, suddenly unsure of his own abilities. Frankie knew exactly what to do for women, knew what to do for himself, knew how he liked to be touched, but he wasn’t sure how to touch his best friend to make him feel good and he really wasn’t sure what you wanted to see. He took a deep breath, and decided he would stick with what he knew.

Frankie pushed Santi backwards by his hips, smirking down at him before looking back to you. “He likes taking directions, doesn’t he? He likes being good.” Then turned back to Santi. “You’re going to be good aren’t you?” Not waiting for a response, he shoved him gently onto the couch, anchoring his hips with both hands and kissing down Santi’s woolly jaw, down his neck, across his scarred shoulder, then slowly back to suck dark marks across his throat. He could feel the vibration of the other man’s soft moans, it ignited something familiar in him, a need to take him apart, explore every piece, study and commit it all to memory, tuck it away for reference, become the expert on his needs. Not now, though. Now he just settled between Santi’s knees.

You crossed the room to sit on your knees next to your boyfriend, up close you could see the shine of saliva on his chest, hear his heavy breaths as Frankie took his twitching cock in hand and began to stroke him in long, firm movements. “You’re hard as a fuckin’ rock, Pope. You like this? Like letting your girl watch you suck my cock? Yeah. You like getting on your knees,too. Did good, Pope. Almost had me coming down your throat.” Santi whimpered at Frankie’s words, closing his eyes, furrowing his thick brows.

Licking his lips, Frankie moved slowly, lowering his head, licking a wide, slow stripe up the underside of Santi’s cock, mimicking the way he ate pussy, something he knew he excelled at.

Your eyes met Frankie’s as he continued licking and swirling his tongue over your boyfriend’s shaft. The sight sent a fresh wave of arousal to your already dripping core. You imagined him between your own legs, his expert tongue and wide hands working you to your release.

Santi’s whimpering and squirming brought you back to the moment, reminding you that this was for your pleasure, not theirs. You are in control, and they’ll do what you say. Breathlessly, you command Frankie to stop,and he sits back, panting and needy, but obedient. His hand splayed over your thigh, silently begging for you to give him his next command. You placed your hand over his, admiring the difference in size and texture, his much larger and rougher than your own, callused and rough with thick veins across the back, but his nails were blunt and clean. You squeezed his hand before turning your focus to Santi, who was watching how you looked at his friend. He recognized the lust in your eyes, recognized the same in himself. When he shifted closer to you, you reached for him, pulling him into a kiss.

You didn’t need to open your eyes to know Frankie was watching intently, canting his hips, searching for relief he wasn’t due. You simply held out your hand for him and he rose, planting his knees between yours and Santi’s so that he could straddle your legs at the same time before inviting himself into your kiss, licking at where your lips met, mouthing at you and his former squad mate, noses bumping.

Santi broke the kiss, pulling Frankie by his thick curls into a deep kiss of their own before guiding his face to the apex of your thighs.

“Show me what you can do, Frank. Santi’s been telling me you’ve got quite a reputation. I really want to see for myself what kind of skills you have. See if you really are “the pussy-eating king.”

How devious he looked, lips curling into a smirk at your challenge.

“Alright, cariño. I’ll show you, but don’t be disappointed when nobody ever does it good enough after this.”

He didn’t waste any more time. He pulled you down the couch so you were on the edge of the cushion, and lifted your knees. “Hold her knee, Santi.” The men worked as a team, it should have been no surprise. Santi’s familiar hand held your left knee up and out, giving Frankie unfettered access while he kissed you, licking into your mouth, grunting into you as you lazily stroked your husband’s cock.

Frankie rubbed over the soft skin of your thighs with his warm, rough hands. He squeezed and kneaded and worked his way down to your mound, covering it with one hand and gently sliding the heel of his hand to your clit, circling it, rolling it, making you groan into Santi’s mouth, your hand stilling on his cock.

Frankie’s left hand joined his right at your glistening pussy and he let his fingertips slip over your folds, smearing your slick from where it pooled up over your clit, rubbing with intention there before fluttering over your delicate inner folds. You gasped when he thumbed a wet stripe of your own slick over your pebbled nipple, and whined when Santi was quick to cover it with his mouth, tasting you there, cock twitching with need.

You were wetter than you could ever remember being. Almost embarrassingly so. Your pussy, Frankie’s fingers, down onto the couch you dripped, and when he pushed two thick fingers into you, the wet sounds were obscene. He twisted his wrist, licked and sucked your throbbing clit, groaning and humming against you as he worked you diligently toward your orgasm.

Santi’s eyes were locked to where Frankie devoured you, even as he kissed you and kneaded your tits, pinching and rolling your nipples, helping push you closer to the edge.

“Fuck. Doin so good do us, baby. Look at you. This what you wanted? Want him to make you come?”

You whimpered into Santi’s cheek, nodding, delirious with pleasure so many sensations overwhelmed you. “Close!” You managed finally. Frankie had taken his sweet time about your cunt, applying his tongue, his lips, his fingers with precision, easing you up to the apex of pleasure. With one last focused effort, he tongues your clit while he crooked his fingers against the spot inside you that he knew would finish you off.

You writhed, squeezing his head between your thighs while Santi kissed you messily, letting your climax wash over you until you were dazed and panting, too sensitive to move.

One of them handed you your drink and you sipped it as you came back to yourself, only then seeing the hungry way they looked at you. Santi ran his land through your hair and Frankie kissed your thigh and rubbed your knee.

“Frankie that was amazing. Santi, thank you.” You kissed Santi again, grateful that he was so willing and happy to let another man, his best friend eat you out to the best orgasm you’d ever gotten from oral, and possibly ever. But you knew that wasn’t where this would end. You placed your empty glass on the table and reached for Frankie, kissing him, unsure if that was crossing a boundary, but too deep into this dynamic to care. You pulled him onto the couch, sandwiching yourself between the men. Frankie leaned in to kiss you again, the force pushed you back into Santi’s warm chest and you felt his scratchy chin on your shoulder, voice soft, urging you onto Frankie’s lap.

“Don’t you want to show him how grateful you are? Why don’t you help him now, cariño?”

You turned to kiss Santi, but the moment was interrupted by Frankie’s hand landing a sharp smack on your ass. My turn.

You crawled onto his lap, whining when his cock brushed against your over-sensitive cunt. You settled happily with your arms around his neck, kissing him while he squeezed the plush round of your ass, letting him pull you up to bury his face between your tits, kissing and nipping at your soft skin, breathing deep to smell your sweat and perfume.

“Lift up. Want you to sit on this big cock.” You obeyed, raising enough for him to run the thick head of his cock through your slick folds and tease at your entrance, making you whine until Santi stopped you. “Uh uh. Not like that.” He pulled you to your feet and spun you around. “Like this.” He pushed your hips back and together he and Frankie guided you to sink down the thick length of Frankie’s cock. You squeezed your eyes shut and moved slowly, breathing deeply and adjusting to the full, throbbing, wanting ache of your pussy around him. When you felt ready to move, you opened them to find your husband between your wide open legs, staring darkly at the place where Frankie entered you. The delicate skin stretched so prettily over a big cock. He didn’t think he would ever get the image out of his mind. Neither the sight nor the sound of slapping skin, the harmony of your cries and Frankie’s grunts as he fucked up slowly into you. Not the smell of your arousal, covering all three of you now.

Frankie’s arms were around you, one across your stomach and one across your chest, giving him leverage to fuck your as he saw fit. Soft and crazy or hard and fast. He tried it all and you took it. You took his cock while Santi shifted on his knees, face mere inches from where you were speared on Frankie’s fat cock. He watched you rub your clit in small circles before he knocked your hand away. “Yeah. Look at that. Look at that pretty pussy. Look at how greedy. Think we could both fit?” Santi teased, before spitting onto your pussy. He watched it drip down past your clit before leaning in to lick it back up. He repeated the vulgar action, then sucked your swollen clit between his full lips.

You couldn’t help the pornographic moaning. Frankie cursed in Spanish under you as your clenched around him. When Santi relented, releasing your clit, they spoke strained, clipped sentences to each other in their native tongue. Frankie thrust deeper and Santi resumed his licking, fisting his own turgid member while thumbing at your puffy lips, licking up your slick, then tipping his head lower to press his tongue right over the place where Frankie entered you. He was wild, licking and mouthing as your cunt and Frankie’s cock, laving wet licks over his friend’s heavy balls until Frankie slammed into you one last time, filling you with his hot cum, fucking it deep. As Frankie covered you on the inside, Santi jerked himself to completion, shooting his load onto your cunt in thick white ribbons, lacing it over Frankie’s balls, the bottom of his cock. He admired his work for several moments, heart racing. He watched as Frankie’s cum began to leak out of you and dripped down fo mix with his own on Frankie’s cock.

When the three of you peeled yourselves apart, you relaxed a while on the desecrated sofa, Santi held you and you held Frankie. You ran your hands through his sweat damp curls, kissed his neck tenderly, told him how good he did. You gave Santi the same treatment, showering him with adoration and gratitude for agreeing to this and for helping you bring Frankie into the fold.

“Next time,” Santi suggested, “we should film it.”

[skibasyndrome]

may never make it out challenge

Thank you so much @saynomorefic for creating this very fun game and for the initial tag 💜💜💜 Equally big thanks to @goldenwilmon and @toffeelemon for tagging me as well 💜💜💜

Post a 1-5 paragraph excerpt of a WIP / fic idea that may never make it out of your drafts but is near and dear to your heart

I've been dragging this one around for a WHILE (seems like I created the doc in decermber '23 oh my god). And you've likely seen parts of this already. Essentially, the idea is that Simon and Wille never got back together and when Simon starts university in Stockholm Wille reaches out again and, even though Simon would love to think he's over Wille, they start hooking up again. Simon is... angry in this. This is far from 5 paragraphs, but. Uh. If I never get to actually finish it, then at least it's here, lmao. Beware, there's some smut (NSFW) down there.

When he first spots Wilhelm, he immediately regrets his decision. Wishes he'd just ignored the text, maybe even told him to fuck off, all decorum and pretense of being over the past be damned. He shouldn't have agreed to this. The smile he flashes Simon as he starts walking towards him, moving around tables and bags people have placed on the ground in the small coffee shop is every bit as crooked and cheery as Simon remembers it from four years ago and he can't stand it. He shouldn't be able to act like this is okay, like they are okay, like he just gets to burst back into Simon's life like that and smile about it.

But that's the whole problem. Simon let him, let it get to this. “Hey, Simon,” he hears him say as soon as he's standing in front of him. And it really shouldn't affect him that much, the simple utterance of his name shouldn't hold that much power. He twists the napkin he's subconsciously grabbed with one hand, forces a neutral expression. “Hey,” he replies.  If he has to be here at all, he's sure as hell not going to be cooperative in conversation. Wille's smile falters ever so slightly. It really wouldn't be noticeable, but Simon knows that face, knows all its traitorous tells and he seemingly still has all that info filed away neatly. As Wilhelm sits down opposite of him the initial enthusiasm has seemingly left him and he's starting to pick at his nails. Simon knows all the signs and if he were a better person he'd try to reassure him now, make him feel a little less anxious about their encounter. But he fights the urge, tightens the grip on the napkin when his hand threatens to reach out to grab Wilhelm's. He hates himself for wanting to give in so easily. Before any other body part can betray him he decides to speak instead. “So what do you want?”

[...]

[Simon] does wonder, too, in between his moans and gasps that mirror Wilhelm’s sounds, whether Wilhelm does this with other people, whether Wilhelm has ever held anyone so close and made sure their bodies aligned perfectly. Whether Wilhelm has lost himself like this with anyone else, since. There’s a spark of anger at the thought of it, then a crashing wave of pride when he feels Wilhelm start to shake under him. A heady warmth, thick and sticky, when he realizes that it’s him and him alone that made Wilhelm spill into the condom. It’s powerful enough to spur him on, to give him enough fervor to raise and lower his hips once, twice again. He messily fucks into Wilhelm’s fist and finally he’s coming in streaks that lay claim on the man that’s turning boneless underneath him. He doesn’t say any of it out loud, doesn’t repeat his traitorous thoughts about wanting to be the only one to fuck Wilhelm like this. He doesn’t lie about sex with Jacob, but doesn’t feel the need to mention that it’s been weeks since they've done it like this.

[...]

Simon’s gotten into the habit of lying. Says he’ll have to be back in his apartment soon, says he can’t possibly stay overnight, that he needs to get up early for classes tomorrow. Says he can’t on weekends because that’s when Sara comes over. Or that Ayub is planning to visit him. Or that he’ll have to take an extra shift at the café. Wilhelm never questions him. He never really pushes, simply adjusts his schedule somewhat and ends up parking his car down the alley from Simon’s apartment building on a Tuesday evening, Wednesday evening, any evening Simon hasn’t given an excuse for. It’s bitter-sweet. There’s something thrilling about the fact that the Crown Prince will roll up any time of the night just to get his fix of Simon, no matter the ridiculous restrictions Simon gives him. It feels good to be the one calling the shots for once.

[...]

Underneath him, Wilhelm is writhing, moaning, arching his back, doing everything to meet Simon’s thrusts, offering his body in a way Simon is not quite sure how to take in. This openness, the unguarded way he lets go while Simon is pinning him down, the desperate pleas for moremoremore that he’s uttering, tumbling over his lips and glinting in his eyes whenever he stares back up at Simon, it twists something deep inside of Simon’s soul. Wilhelm is letting him in, he’s laying out his soul, opening up his chest for Simon to reach inside. It’s fascinating to watch and it’s scary to think about. Another thrust and Wilhelm is throwing his head back, baring his throat, pale and soft and long and claimed by the violently purple bruise Simon has sucked into the skin of it. And somehow it all wraps up in that sight, this vision. Wilhelm would let Simon tear into him, no questions asked. Would offer himself to him, bleeding.

I'm not sure who has and hasn't done this before, but I'm tagging @saynomorefic (if you want to do another one <3) @impossibleknots, @earlgrey-lateatnight, @the-impala-is-my-home, @shouldntbearevolution, @grapehyasynth, @pagegirlintraining, @wilmonsfolklore, @iwouldnevergetintofanfic @caramelpenguin, @willesworld &&&&&& can we make this about gif-art as well? Probably right? In that case, maybe @sobadbad & @books-books-smolderinglooks have any projects to share? Anyone else who would like to share one of their may-never-make-it-outs, you've been tagged as well💜💜💜 Tag me if you do so I can read it!

[monbons]

Stitches and Sentences Sunday

Thanks for the tags @martsonmars and @artsyunderstudy. I loved reading your WIP snips. As always, such delicious delicious words from both of you.

This is a long update with video and some mild NSFW, so I am slapping everything under the cut. Enjoy!

STITCHES I resolved to take it easy in the new year, so I have no big doll projects on the horizon. I've just been slowly plugging away at MRB Simon as I sat on planes and in airports for hours on end this break.

But Monica, didn't you make him for COC? Well, yes and no...

As soon as I started making things for COC, I realized the only way to make the project sustainable was to create what I now call "base Simon" and "base Baz." These consisted of a head, torso, and legs. Then, depending on the position required, sometimes I swapped out the arms (on one occasion the legs), and I always changed the clothing and/or accessories. As a result, MRB Simon was actually ONLY arms and some hasty pipe cleaner flowers.

After wrapping up the last post, I cleaned up the CHAOS that had exploded in my bedroom and the little disembodied arms sitting on my desk began haunting me. So, I decided to complete MRB Simon. Here he is in all his naked glory.

I would like to add the disclaimer that I didn't know anything about embroidery before this. Truly. I taught myself three simple stitches in one night from youtube just to have these arms made in time for COC. So, given that, I am pretty happy with how he's turned out. I am still waiting on shoes and a few accessories to arrive, but once he is finished, I'll give him his own dedicated post and mail him off to @rimeswithpurple as a thank you for all of her help with my COC Watford map.

SENTENCES As I said, I was trying to take it easy. Not so much a resolution as what I needed after all the madness. However, almost as soon as I made the decision, I was struck by creative lightning. I've learned that you never walk away from inspiration, so I've cranked out almost all of my EGF fic already and it is in the hands of my trusty forever beta.

I have nothing I want to preview just yet because it is the filthiest thing I have ever written while also not being very filthy at all??? I don't know how else to explain it then to share the comment I left @thewholelemon on my doc.

Perhaps I will feel brave enough to share more in upcoming weeks. Since it was inspired by a slutty doll accessory I stumbled upon and have since commissioned for one of my dolls, I may also illustrate my own fic. We'll see.

Hellos and high-fives from the smutty doll factory!

@alexalexinii, @argumentativeantitheticalg, @aristocratic-otter, @arthurkko, @artsyunderstudy

@best--dress, @blackberrysummerblog, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @bookish-bogwitch, @confused-bi-queer

@cutestkilla, @drowninginships, @emeryhall, @facewithoutheart, @harrie-leithillustration

@hushed-chorus, @iamamythologicalcreature, @ic3que3n, @ileadacharmedlife, @katatsumuli,

@larkral, @letraspal, @martsonmars, @messofthejess, @mooncello,

@noblecorgi, @orange-peony, @prettygoododds, @raenestee, @rbkzz,

@rimeswithpurple, @roomwithanopenfire, @run-for-chamo-miles, @shrekgogurt, @skeedelvee

@stitchyqueer, @talentpiper11, @twinkle-twinkle-up-above, @theimpossibledemon, @thewholelemon,

@valeffelees, @whatevertheweather, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @youarenevertooold