#i also love watching people get drunk and be silly
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Ok soooo I'm just gonna start posting my thoughts lol. I'm going to organize them by segment so it's not one big massive post. So let's get into it shall we?
The Opening
I still don't love Charles but that opening segment was pretty funny and I loved the raunchy pics. And seeing Link on his back with those slutty bellbottoms bunched around his feet with his legs in the air? Tongue out, head lolled back?? Insane imagery so thank you for that.
I think one of my favorite parts of gme is always how drunk Link spends so much time looking at/whispering to/touching Rhett and trying to get his and only his attention.
And of course the “Do you want me to bury my face in Rhett’s… juicy ass?” followed by Rhett’s “yeah yeah yeah yeah”... I think that one just stands for itself.
I will say that right off the bat and then throughout the entire show. I was a liiiiiil bummed by how almost reluctant Rhett was to seem too drunk. Like there was no way he didn't feel anything with the amount of shots they had in the pre-show and then in the will it chaser segment, but he definitely held back in a way they he didn't do last year (and last year he specifically said he didn't want to hold back, while this year he specifically said "someone needs to be captain of this ship") and I think that just caused a weird vibe that I noticed a few times throughout the night.
But anyway. hell yeah to ass eating and let's get into the rest of the show!!!
#also if you haven't deduced yet#my shipper goggles are ON and I will be commenting on it#if that's not your thing then you should skip lol#i also love watching people get drunk and be silly#so yeah just some context to keep in mind#rhett and link#rhink#gme 3#good mythical evening#i'm also barely proofing these before posting so ignore mistakes or stupidity lol
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
This year is the 5th Annual #Azirafeast, The Feast Day of the Angel Aziraphale, an inclusive fandom event! It’s celebrated on November 19th! It’s a made up holiday that brings the community together, regardless of how a person participates in fandom.
On Nov.19, everyone is welcome to celebrate The Feast Day of Aziraphale by drinking cocoa and wine, eating good food, reading, being stylish on their own terms, enjoying the company of friends and embracing the spirit of Aziraphale! Please share your pics on socials with #Azirafeast!
On Nov. 19, Creators are encouraged to show Aziraphale indulging in what makes him happy or why you love him (canon or fanon!) Create “Lore” for why Aziraphale has a feast day! What miracles throughout history has he performed? Creations can be dramatic, serious, sexy or silly!
All forms of creation are welcome: Draw, write, sing, act, sew, bake, cosplay or anything else! However YOU want to appreciate our favorite Angel. All variations, versions and representations of Aziraphale are welcome for #Azirafeast
And remember, you don’t have to “make” anything to participate in #Azirafeast on Nov. 19. Eating cake and lying to your boss is a great way to celebrate! Confuse some customers, watch a nature documentary, get drunk, listen to your favorite music, be kind to someone who is new or lost!
Anything tagged #Azirafeast I will reblog, the same on Bluesky, Instagram and Twitter. I’ve had a permanent highlight on my Instagram for the last four years, and maintained this tumblr. Checkout what others have made for previous years!
There is also an AO3 collection: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Azirafeast
Anything added to it I will promote on my socials for #Azirafeast.
I know I don’t have the biggest following, but the idea is that on the feast of Aziraphale, even fans who don’t have a large social media presence will still be seen, still have their experiences noticed, and will feel part of a community that cares.
Folks can get stressed about creating by a “due date.” I encourage folk to post early if they want, and to keep posting after Nov. 19th if they miss the day or don’t finish in time.
Just make sure to tag your contributions, whether they are pics or creations, with #azirafeast so we can celebrate with you! Please feel welcome to take my words and reshare any way that you would like, and make your own posts to generate awareness! Please do share in any fandom communities your part of, or feel free to try and convince people IRL that this is a totally real holiday.
I do not run, own, control or anything of the sort in regards to #azirafeast. The idea came from Cliopadra and a private discord server, and the brilliant folk there randomly picked a date and ran with it. The reason I made this blog and encourage people to participate is because I think it’s a lovely idea! It is NOT “mine.”
#azirafeast#Azirafeast2024#feast of aziraphale#azirafeast art#good omens#good omens fandom#the feast of aziraphale
276 notes
·
View notes
Text
02 — haunted
summary: “something’s gone terribly wrong, you’re all i wanted.”/“you’re not gone, you can’t be gone.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst warnings: rated 16+ for alcohol, religious talk (inaccurate portrayal of Christianity), vomit, INCREDIBLY CANON COMPLIANT ‼️IF YOU WERE TRIGGERED BY S2 EP15 REVELATIONS IN CRIMINAL MINDS, DO NOT READ THIS‼️ wc: 10.1k a/n: another special mention to @astrophileous for beta reading and hyping me up!! love you loads zahra 🤎 (she's also doing an AMAZING derek morgan series that i have the honour in beta-in so if you have time please do check it out!! it is an absolute work of art) SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST
There is never a dull day when working at the BAU. After weeks of cases and paperwork, a night out was exactly what everyone needed. A place to get drunk, have fun and unwind– and O'Keefe's was the exact place to do just that.
“You know, you can at least try to look like you’re having fun,” Emily muses, nudging your shoulder.
Emily joined the team soon after Elle had resigned, and as much as you missed your friend, you enjoyed Emily’s company. She’s too observant for her own good; grinning at you from across the room whenever you have the slightest interaction with certain people. She’s a brilliant addition to the team, much to your chagrin, but you know it’s all in good fun. Well, all in good fun for her.
You shoot her a playful glare, sipping on your drink. “I am having fun!”
“Liar,” Emily says instantly, grinning at you. “C’mon, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” you deny, “I’m just tired. Things have been… busy to say the least. I’m just glad that the team is getting some R&R. Well deserved, might I add. How are you? You know, with joining the team and all that.”
She smiles in your direction before downing a shot and shrugging. “It’s been good! Yeah, everyone is so… welcoming. It’s nice.”
“Different to a desk job?” You ask with a teasing lilt in your voice.
Emily laughs softly. “Yeah, totally.”
Your gaze shifts to where Spencer is sitting, for once enjoying himself in such a crowded area. He’s talking to two strangers at a table, his hands gesticulating as he explains something and the two people seem thoroughly amused.
“So… Spencer, huh?”
You frown. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”
Emily laughs, “You’re staring at him with heart eyes. Anyone can tell. Except for him, apparently.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“For a profiler, you’re a horrible liar.”
You let out something that sounds akin to a dying cow, turning your attention back to your drink. Your attention wavers and it shifts back to Spencer who is enthusiastically talking about something to the two amused guests. He grins at them as they drink, his own cup still full. Derek is thoroughly enjoying himself as he dances with a group of girls, and you can see Aaron and Haley dancing together on the floor as well. It’s wholesome, seeing everyone in their casual wear and just having fun.
“You should talk to him,” Emily tries again, nudging you. “I’ll buy you a drink if you do.”
You raise an eyebrow. “You’re bribing me to talk to my best friend?”
“I’m bribing you to give me entertainment,” she corrects, laughing.
“You’re horrible,” you tell her, smiling, as you walk past her in Spencer’s direction. “I expect that drink to be delivered to me.”
“Deal!” She calls after you, downing a shot as she watches you.
Spencer smiles when he sees you make your way over to him, shuffling his chair to the side to give you more room.
“Hi,” he murmurs, pulling your seat closer to him. “Having fun?”
“I should be asking that to you,” you respond, smiling. The two people he was once talking to take their leave, giggling about something you couldn’t quite make out. “I didn’t mean to scare away your company.”
He immediately shakes his head at your words. “I’d rather talk to you anyway.”
You can’t help the silly grin that spreads across your face or the way your cheeks heat up and you cough. “Well, I hope I can live up to your expectations.”
Spencer laughs, his hand gravitating to your knee and he squeezes good-naturedly. “You exceed them.”
You think he’s trying to kill you and you swear you stop breathing as you choke out, “I’m glad.”
It isn’t long before Emily makes good on her promise, and a waiter appears on your left. He presents a drink to your table, the glass adorned with a lemon rind and a raspberry, and you eagerly take a gulp.
Spencer frowns a little as he watches you drink. “Aren’t you going to question who it’s from?”
“I know who it’s from,” you respond cheerfully, letting out a contented sigh. You offer the drink to him, moving the straw so that it’s pointing in his direction. “Want some?”
He eyes the pink drink suspiciously. “What is it?”
“It’s a Pink Bikini!” You chirp, sipping the drink again. “Like… coconut rum, raspberries, and lemonade. It’s good, Spence, you can barely taste the alcohol.”
His nose scrunches at the idea of coconut rum. “I dunno.”
“You’re not gonna get drunk from one sip,” you protest happily, a little tipsy. “It’s good! Besides, how do you know you’re not going to like it if you never try it?”
“You’re literally drunk right now!” He points out, laughing a little and moving the drink out of your reach. “Give it to me.”
“That’s only because I had a couple drinks earlier,” you argue, lunging for the glass. You’re quick but Spencer is quicker (and taller), and he chugs the drink before slamming it back onto the table. “Spencer!”
He grins at you, smacking his lips as he plays with the paper straw. “I’m protecting you, (Y/N). Who knows what you would’ve done if you drank any more.”
“You’re insufferable,” you chastise half-heartedly, “I was thirsty.”
“I have water,” he says, fishing a plastic bottle out of his satchel. He cracks the lid open, taking a sip himself before passing it to you. “Drinking even moderate amounts of alcohol can lead to dehydration. Drinking water slows down this effect, allowing the liver to metabolise the alcohol that was already consumed. This also means you won’t have as bad a hangover tomorrow morning.”
You beam at him, taking tentative sips from his water bottle. The fact that you’re drinking from the same bottle as him is not lost on you, nor the fact that he finished your drink by using your straw– your lipgloss stained straw– and he didn’t even bat an eye.
“What would I do without you?” You croon, handing his bottle back.
“Probably die of dehydration,” he responds, taking one last gulp of water, before returning the bottle back to his bag.
“Ah, yes, that’s right,” you laugh again, beaming at him. You’re not sure if it’s from the drinks, but you can feel your cheeks begin to flush. Did it get hotter in here?
“Hey, sorry to be the bearer of bad news but we have a case,” JJ pats your shoulder sympathetically, frowning. “Horrible timing, but it’s urgent.”
You all but whine. “But I’m tipsy.”
“I’ve got aspirin in my bag,” JJ says, “you’ll be fine.”
“Stupid serial killer,” you huff, getting up from your seat. “They owe me a day off.”
***
“You know it never fails. Just as I’m getting my groove thang going, bam! We’re back at the BAU,” Derek says, pouring himself a much needed cup of coffee and sitting at the roundtable.
Spencer shrugs. “You know, statistically, a case doesn’t come in with any more frequency if you’re at a party or gathering than if you aren’t. It’s a… trick of the mind. We merely remember the ones that came in that way more.”
“Besides, how long does it take for you to get your ‘groove thang’ going anyway?” You tease, sipping from your own cup of coffee, and Emily cackles from beside you.
“Only when he’s sleeping,” Gideon comments, walking into the conference room and taking off his coat.
Hotch’s brows raise in a mixture of surprise and concern. “Where were you tonight?”
“I told you, I went to the Smithsonian,” he grunts as he sits into his chair.
“You missed a good time,” Emily insists, smiling.
“I had a good time,” Gideon responds, his attention turning back to the screen where JJ was getting ready to present the latest case.
“Well, that’s definitely over,” she says, flicking the screen on. “Georgia. The Kyles– Dennis and Lacy– were murdered an hour ago in the suburban Atlanta home.”
Hotch’s brows raise in surprise. “An hour ago?”
JJ nods. “Police were on the scene unusually fast.”
“Why?” Derek asks, leaning over the table.
“One of the UnSubs called them and told them that the other was about to murder the victims.”
You huff out a laugh in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”
“From inside the house.” JJ purses her lips, gesturing to the transcript that was printed out in their files. “According to the dispatcher, the first male sounded terrified and begged them to get there before the other, who they both identified as Raphael, was about to kill the sinners that lived there.”
“‘Sinners’?” Hotch echoes.
JJ nods again, a grimace painted over her features. “The 911 centre is going to send Garcia the tape.”
“How fast was the police response time?” Spencer asks, glancing at the screen.
“Four minutes, twenty-six seconds. During which time Raphael was able to do…” JJ clicks a button on the remote and an array of gruesome crime scene photos popped up onto the screen. “This.”
“In four and a half minutes?” Emily asks incredulously, frowning.
Garcia immediately turns away from the screen, clutching her mug closer to her chest. You can’t help but cringe as well from the violence presented in the photos: blood everywhere, smeared across the walls and floors of the house, and the victims lifeless.
“Mr. Kyle is a dot-com millionaire. His company is one of the largest employers in the community. There’s going to be media coverage. Also, when they arrived, the police found this displayed prominently on the bed.”
Another image appears on the screen, this time a page of the Bible placed into a plastic evidence bag with a certain section highlighted.
“Revelation, Chapter 6, Verse 8,” Hotch reads for the rest of the team.
Derek can’t help but scoff. “They’re killing sinners.”
“These guys are on a mission. And mission-based killers will not stop killing,” Spencer says with a wince.
“‘And I looked, and behold, a pale horse, and his name that sat upon him was Death,” Hotch begins, eyes trained on the Bible page.
Gideon continues, his voice quiet and grim, “And Hell followed with him.”
***
You sigh tiredly as you slump into the seat beside Spencer, playing with the cap of your water bottle. The sky outside is painted in oranges and purples as the sun begins to rise, and you try to hold back the frustrated groan when you see the blaring ‘4:22AM’ flash on your watch.
“Is everything okay?” Spencer asks quietly, looking over at you.
You shake your head, running your fingers through your hair. “I just… I have a bad feeling about this case. There’s something… off about it.”
He hums in thought, “we’ve dealt with religious motives before, though.”
“I know but just–” you huff, leaning against the headrest. “It’s just weird. I mean, usually if one of the UnSubs were partnered with someone who was a liability, they’d eliminate them. But that’s just not happening here.”
“Don’t think about the case,” Spencer says gently, resting the palm of his hand flat against your knee. “It’ll be fine, trust me.”
When you don’t respond, he pokes your cheek gently shooting you a lopsided smile. “Hey. It’ll be okay.”
“I hope it will be,” you respond quietly, moving so that your cheek is pressed against his shoulder. “But you saw those images; what the UnSubs can do in less than five minutes. I know it’s nothing we haven’t seen before but–”
“(Y/N).” He squeezes your knee again and you flush as he continues to speak. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be back home before you know it. Trust me.”
You nod, although you can’t shake this feeling off. “Promise you’ll be safe?”
Spencer smiles at you. “Promise.”
***
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you mutter, turning away as the video of Mr. Kyle being murdered plays on repeat. Your stomach churns at the mere mental image that pops up in your mind, and a chill run downs your spine.
The case is a lot more gruesome than you expected it to be, especially when it came to the team’s attention that a video of the murder was circulating the internet. The video was currently being played on loop, with the voice of the UnSubs playing out of the computer. You thought you saw it all but this was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.
That is, until Spencer stood from his seat.
“Agent Franks?” He whispers, looking towards the lead detective. “Does this building have wireless internet?”
Agent Franks nods. “Yeah. Why?”
Spencer swallows, gesturing to the computer. “That camera’s on right now. The computer has connected itself to the internet; it’s streaming a video feed somewhere.”
Hotch’s concern only deepens, along with the frown on his face. “Can we trace the stream to the destination?”
“If we keep it open, Garcia might be able to–” Spencer begins, only to be cut off by a beeping from the computer.
In bright red lettering, the words: ‘THE ARMIES OF SATAN SHALL NOT PREVAIL’ flash against the black screen before turning off.
“So, they’re controlling it remotely?” Hotch asks, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Is that even possible?” Emily asks in disbelief.
“Yeah, you can totally access someone’s computer remotely. It’s actually done a lot today when a mortal calls for tech support. Instead of giving you instructions the tech can work on your computer from wherever she is,” Garcia explains through the phone.
“And they maintain the access even after the work is done?” Hotch asks.
“They’re not supposed to, but I suppose you could install a Trojan horse.”
Spencer turns to Gideon. “Something left in the computer to be turned on later. It’s the same way that websites get pop-up ads onto your computer.”
“Garcia can you check the Kyles’ phone records and see if they called tech support in the last six months?” Hotch requests as he flips through the Kyle family’s folder.
“Right-o. Oh, and if you get me the laptop I can search the drive for anything implanted there.”
Hotch nods. “As fast as we can.”
“By the way, this video? It’s gone crazy viral.”
Gideon frowns. “What does that mean?”
“That means it’s the most downloaded video on the entire Internet. Worldwide. And judging by the responses people seem to think it’s pretty cool.”
“Call us if you find anything on the Kyles’ computer,” Hotch mutters, before the phone hangs up.
“Honestly, they probably don’t even realise that the video is real,” you say quietly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I mean, you see a video on the internet. The last thing you’d think is that it’s actual people being murdered.”
“They probably think that it’s marketing for a horror film or something,” JJ adds on, but the look on her face is just as disgusted.
“Well, the UnSubs were right about one thing,” Derek mutters, nodding grimly. “The world is pretty screwed up.”
***
After hours of going through files and trying to find a paper trail, you’re left with a mountain of paperwork in front of you and sore eyes. You press the pads of your fingers against the corner of your eyes, slumping over the table.
“Hey.”
Spencer’s voice brings you out of your thoughts and you peek a look at him. “Hm?”
A takeaway cup of coffee is placed in front of you and you immediately perk up. He chuckles softly, patting your head. “You looked like you needed it.”
You spy the name written across the paper cup and frown. “It’s your coffee.”
“You need it more than me,” he says honestly, smiling. “Besides, I’m okay.”
You take a tentative sip of the drink, the sweetness of the sugar overwhelming the bitter taste of the coffee but you don’t mind it. Instead, you didn’t actually mind it; especially because it’s from him.
“Thank you,” you murmur. “We can share it if you want.”
He shakes his head ‘no’, turning back to the files on the page. “Where did you get up to?”
“Nowhere special. Agent Franks is right; there’s nothing in any of the files relating to knife fights that are remotely similar to the case,” you say, slumping against the table and leaning your head on your arm. “I’ve got six or so left to go through but I’m not getting much luck anyway.”
At that moment, JJ enters the room, holding another cream coloured file. “What if we were looking at this the wrong way?”
Hotch turns to her. “What do you mean?”
“I looked for unsolved home invasions. Three months ago there was a prowler called in directly outside of the Kyles’ house.”
Your brows knit together at her words and look up at her. “A prowler?”
JJ nods. “The witness was walking his dog in a nearby park. Going back to his car, he saw a man in dark clothing go over the back wall and start sneaking up to the house. By the time the police got there, the prowler was gone.”
“Only one man?” Hotch asks.
“Apparently.”
“Was the witness able to describe the man?” Spencer questions.
JJ looks into the papers before shaking her head. “If he did, it’s not in this case file.
Hotch looks at JJ then back at the corkboard. “Is there a name and address to the witness?”
“Tobias Hankel,” JJ reads. “Lives about an hour from here.”
Hotch lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing his eyes. “It’s a long shot, but he might be able to give us a description. Why don’t you and Reid go out there, see if you can find Mr Hankel, and see if he remembers anything.”
You immediately frown, perking up at his words. “I can go too, sir. There’s a safety in numbers.”
“You’re exhausted and we need you here,” Hotch says, immediately shutting your suggestion down. “We don’t need three people to talk to a witness.”
Your face falls and your stomach churns. “I understand that, sir, but it’s late and wouldn’t it be safer if more people go?”
“We’ll be fine,” Spencer reassures, squeezing your arm. “We’ll be armed and we’ve got our phones.”
A small breath escapes you and you nod slowly, chewing your bottom lip. “Okay. Be safe.”
He smiles. “I will.”
JJ snickers lightly, turning to Hotch. “Be safe,” she echoes, grinning.
Hotch can’t help but chuckle as he returns with, “I’ll be so safe.”
“Oh shut up,” you laugh, rolling your eyes. “I’m gonna kill you.”
JJ grins. “But how will that keep us safe?”
You throw an eraser at her shoulder in response and she laughs loudly, walking out of the room. Spencer squeezes your arm again, rubbing your shoulder through the fabric of his jumper before following after her.
It isn’t long before the lead detective rushes into the room, his words flying out of his mouth. “Agent Hotchner, we got another murder.”
***
“Tobias Hankel is the UnSub.”
Five words is all it takes for your world to come crashing down around you. Hankel? The UnSub? Your mouth is dry as the head detective explains about the dogs and you think you’re going to throw up. Your mind spins and your chest pounds with anxiety because oh God, what’s going to happen to the others?
“We sent Spencer and JJ there,” you whisper, your throat closing up. You tug desperately at your collar, trying to breathe. “Oh my God, we sent them there. We sent them there.”
“Hey, hey,” Derek is quick to ground you, gripping your shoulders firmly. “They’ll be okay. It’s Spencer Genius Reid and Jennifer Bad-ass Jareau. They’ll be okay.”
You shake your head firmly, pulling away from his grasp and clutching your head. “I should be there with them. I should have gone with them. We don’t know what Tobias is capable of, Morgan, something could have happened to them.”
“We’re dispatching police now,” the detective says, getting off the phone.
Tears spill from the corners of your eyes and you try to keep your breathing steady. It doesn’t work. The room is spinning and you can’t see straight. The words your team are trying to get through to you fades into background noise and you let out a choked sob.
“They could be–” Your words don’t make it off your tongue and you turn, gesturing to the black screen that was once playing the video of the woman and the dogs. “Oh my God.”
“(Y/N),” Emily holds your shoulders tightly, her words a mixture of firmness and care as she tries to snap you out of it. “They’re going to be okay. We have to go there now.”
“They can’t be gone. Spencer can’t be gone,” you say, more to yourself than anything. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s go. We have to find them.”
The others don’t need to be told twice. You get into the passenger seat with Emily, trying to calm your breathing. One hour is too long. Why does Tobias have to live so far away? You press the palm of your hand to your mouth, the lump in your throat getting bigger. Hot tears fall down your cheeks as the world becomes a blur of flashing lights and you try not to cry. It’s your fault. You should have been there with him. There’s safety in numbers. Why didn’t you trust your gut?
“Don’t do that,” Emily says sternly, gripping the wheel tighter.
You can’t bring yourself to respond, merely shaking your head adamantly.
“Stop blaming yourself,” Emily tries again, glancing at you for a second before turning her attention back to the road. “It’s not your fault.”
“I should be there with them.” Your voice cracks pathetically and you wipe furiously at your eyes.
“You couldn’t have known.”
“I should have.”
She looks at you again. “Stop. You couldn’t have known. It’s not your fault.”
The rest of the car ride is silent. You’ve learned that this is the hardest part of the job: losing someone. Losing someone because of a job. It seems ridiculous, considering that it’s something so miniscule in the grand scheme of things, and yet it is the most common factor in divorces. A lack of commitment. Instead of committing to something that actually matters and can’t be replaced, their attention turns to something so lacklustre. If Spencer were here he would tell you the exact statistics. If Spencer were here, you wouldn’t even need to think about the statistics.
The sound of sirens echo through the once quiet country area and the police officers file out of their cars. You fasten your Kevlar vest over your chest hastily, fumbling with the clasps as you jump out of the car.
“John, Bobby, take the house with Hotch, Gideon and (L/N),” the captain orders, pointing towards the house.
Your stomach lurches as Hotch busts the door open, and you move upstairs with your gun pointed out.
“Clear!” You yell, rendezvousing with Hotch and Gideon soon after.
“Downstairs is clear,” Hotch says, nodding towards you.
“Then where the hell is he?” Gideon mutters, looking around the rooms of the house.
The blood rushes to your ears and the air grows thick. You can’t breathe. The house is unmaintained with mould growing in the corners of the rooms and dust gathering on the shelves, the paint on the walls cracking from water damage. Your eyes sting as the air pricks at your skin, and your legs carry you down the stairs and out the house.
“JJ,” you breathe, your eyes wide as you meet the blonde sitting at the back of an ambulance. You pull her into a hug. “You’re okay.”
It’s a different JJ to what you’re used to. She’s always been put together with not a hair out of place. She’s usually so full of life and mirth, bringing a sense of serenity and security when you need it most but this…
Her blue eyes are red and puffy from crying and she’s shaking miserably against your body. She scratches at her wrists and picks at the bandages, her bottom lip trembling. Her gun is set beside her, not in the holster she usually carries it in.
“(Y/N),” she sobs, her voice cracking. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“What happened?” You demand. “Where’s Spencer?”
“I’m so sorry,” she repeats, shaking her head. “I tried–”
“Where is he, Jennifer?” You ask, pulling away from her like she burned you. “Where is he?”
She sobs again, clutching her head. “I don’t know, we separated–”
“What do you mean you separated?!” You’re trying not to scream. Your thoughts are running a million miles an hour. Spencer is gone. He’s gone. “Why would you do that?”
Jennifer lets out a wail, trying to explain herself through broken words. “We didn’t– he said– I’m sorry I’m sorry–”
“‘Sorry’ doesn’t bring him here, does it?” The words are harsh and low, and you tug at your collar again. “He’s not here, Jennifer! Does that mean nothing to you?!”
“(L/N), that’s enough.”
Hotch’s voice makes you snap your head in his direction and you see red.
“I told you I should have gone with them,” you snap, and it doesn’t even occur to you that this man is your boss. “If I went with them, Spencer would still be here right now!”
“(L/N).”
“No.” You glare at him menacingly, too deep in your anger to even comprehend anything else. “He should be here right now! He should– he should be spouting out statistics or coming up with some theory! He should be here and he’s not!”
“We’ll find him. Trust me.”
“I did!” You yell, your voice fervent. “I trusted your judgement! And look where that got us. Spencer is gone. He’s not here, Hotch, because I trusted you!”
“(Y/N), enough.” Hotch is firm and he stares you down. “That is enough, do I need to remind you who you are speaking to?”
In an instant you stop, your heart lurching and you quiver. “... This is my fault.”
He immediately shakes his head no. “It’s not your fault.”
“I should have gone with him. I should have– it’s my fault. It’s my fault.” Your eyes well with tears and you tug at your hair erratically. “He can’t be gone. He’s not gone. He’ll figure something out. Why didn’t I do something? I should have–”
“Stop it. (Y/N), stop.” Hotch grips your shoulders squarely, bending down so that he’s eye level with you. “Take deep breaths.”
Your lungs burn as you try to breathe, hot ragged breaths leaving your lips shakily as you cover your face with the palms of your hands. Tears fall down your cheeks and gather in your hands as you make a desperate attempt to calm yourself down. It’s all too much. The sky is pitch black and the feeling of cold rain stings and bites your skin. The sounds of sirens fade away and for a moment it’s just quiet. Quiet, except for the words and the voices that swirl in your mind.
“A man that matches Hankel’s description was spotted in the next town over.”
Derek’s words bring you out of your thoughts and you manage a soft, “What?”
“Alright,” Hotch nods, before turning back to you. “Go back to the police department.”
“What?” Your ears are ringing. You must have heard wrong. “No. No, no, I can’t– no, Hotch, I’m not going back to the police department. Spencer is missing.”
“You’re too close to the case.”
A humourless laugh leaves your lips as you stare at him. “We’re all too close to the case, Hotch. Look around!”
“You attacked JJ and you raised your voice at me. I want you to go back to the police department and work the case from there.” He speaks to you as if he were speaking to a child and it makes you feel sick.
“Oh, so you’re punishing me?”
“No, I’m using you,” he says firmly, and then his voice softens. “It won’t do you any good to be here, (Y/N), you know that.”
“Aaron,” you try again, your voice wavering. “Please, don’t do this to me.”
“Go back and find us something that we can use.” He turns to one of the policemen. “Make sure she gets there.”
The policeman nods, tipping his hat, and gesturing for you to follow him.
“Wait I– let me talk to JJ. I need– just, please,” you say quickly, clearing your throat. “Sir.”
He’s sceptical before nodding. “Go ahead.”
You don’t need to be told twice. In moments you turn back to the ambulance, letting out a heavy breath. “I’m sorry.”
JJ shakes her head adamantly. “No, you’re right. It was my fault.”
“It’s not,” you say quietly. “I know Spencer and I know you. It was… probably his idea to split up.”
She smiles wryly, fiddling at the bandage on her arm.
“It’s not your fault,” you say again. You’re not sure who you’re trying to convince anymore. “You went through something too and I ignored that and that wasn’t right of me. I’m sorry.”
JJ sniffles, pursing her lips. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you respond quietly, patting her arm. “I need to go. Um, Hotch wants me off the case, or something.”
She nods. “Okay.”
You look at her again, the guilt building like bile in your stomach. “I really am sorry.”
“I know,” she whispers, wiping the tears away from her eyes. “We’ll find him.”
You don’t respond.
***
Everything hurts. His head is pounding and he can feel the sticky blood drip from the side of his head and against his cheek. His feet hurt from each thwack of wood, and his wrists hurt from the handcuffs. It’s cold. So, so cold, and he feels so weak. No amount of knowledge or training could have prepared him for this.
Spencer’s throat throbs from crying. No matter how many times he tries to convince whatever personality is taking over Tobias, it never seems to work. What’s the point of being a profiler if he can’t even save himself?
The creaking of the door brings him out of his thoughts and he jolts. Tobias, at least who appears to be Tobias, enters the room carrying a slaughtered animal. A shiver runs down Spencer’s spine and all he can do is watch.
“You need to eat,” the man says, his voice strangely soft and oddly calm.
“What’s your name?” Spencer asks, his voice small.
The man looks back at him. “Tobias.”
“Tobias, who was here before?” The fear is obvious in his voice and Spencer just wishes for an ounce of Hotch’s stoicism or Derek’s bravery.
Tobias chuckles weakly. “It was probably my father. I’m sorry if he hurt you.”
Before he could comprehend his movements, Tobias takes off his belt and walks over to him. Spencer fears the worst. Did Tobias’s father take over again? He tries to inch away, struggling against the restraints as best he could.
“W-What are you doing?” Spencer asks shakily, trying to pull away from him.
Tobias doesn’t respond, slipping one end of the belt above his elbow. Everything begins to click.
“No, no. Don’t. Please, please don’t.” He resorts to begging.
In this moment, Spencer hates the way his mind works because he doesn’t need to know the statistics. He doesn’t need to know that 75% of drug abusers started out using pain killers. His head swirls with what Tobias could be using. Codeine? Heroin? Opium? The list goes on and he tries to keep his breathing steady.
“It helps,” Tobias says, ignoring the way Spencer trembles and shakes his head adamantly. “Don’t tell my father. He doesn’t know they’re here.”
Tobias takes the syringe and the bottle out of his pocket and Spencer sobs even harder. He tries to appease him again, shrinking away as best he could in his chair.
“Please,” he tries again, his chest heaving and tears wetting his waterline. “Please, I don’t want it, I don’t want it.”
“Trust me. I know.”
“Please,” he begs, tears slipping down his cheeks. “Don’t.”
Tobias doesn’t listen.
The effects are far too quick for codeine, heroin or opium and Spencer can feel it hit. He knows it’s wrong. He can go on for hours about the statistics about it but the feeling so euphoric that he can’t help it. And then he sees it.
“We have another recruit as well. Came in a couple weeks ago,” Derek told him, walking him through the halls of the BAU headquarters. “She’s part of the academy Honours program. Top of the class, apparently.”
“Oh.” Spencer nodded slowly, fidgeting with the zip of his bag.
Derek grinned. “Relax, kid. You still have the most impressive résumé. She’s just an intern; doing paperwork, mainly.”
“I wasn’t– I wasn’t worried about that,” Spencer stammered, wetting his bottom lip. “I mean– not that I think she isn’t smart or anything. I just meant–”
“Kid, I mean it when you have to relax,” Derek snorted as he opens up the door to the bullpen “Meet the rest of the team.”
He walked through the doors, ready to make his mark. He’s spent so long believing that he was nothing but now… he took another step, meeting Hotch’s gaze and– he didn’t get very far when something catapulted into his side. There was a flurry of paper work and cream coloured files, case details splayed all over the floor. Spencer grunted a little, tumbling to the ground like a house of cards.
“Oh, my God, I am– I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going and I was running and I am not used to office attire! I am so sorry!”
The ramblings of a girl– she couldn’t be older than him, at least, not by much– filled Spencer’s ears and he grimaces. “No, it’s– it’s okay. Don’t– uh– don’t worry about it.”
“(Y/N)...” JJ huffed out a quiet laugh, helping the other girl to her feet. “Are you guys okay?”
“I’m okay,” Spencer said, slowly getting to his feet.
The girl didn’t do the same, instead scrambling to pick up the multitude of papers that litter the floor. “I’m fine! Just– great. Great. Brilliant.”
Spencer immediately started to reach for the papers, trying his best not crumple them up anymore than they already were. “You’re… the intern?”
“Is it that obvious?” You ask, breathless. “I’m still getting used to all…” You gesture wildly to the interior of the bullpen. “... this.”
“(Y/N), meet Doctor Spencer Reid. He’s the youngest addition to the team. Reid, meet (Y/N) (L/N). She’s part of the Academy Honours Program,” Gideon introduces, peering at the two of you from behind his glasses.
“Hi,” you said meekly, stretching out your hand.
His words hitched in his throat because once he’s gotten past the flying papers and the fact that you literally ran into him, he realises just how beautiful you are. You were right there in front of him, close enough to touch but–
“I don’t shake hands,” he said quietly, the anxiety gnawing at his stomach. His fingers twitch at his sides and he moves them to grip the handle of his satchel. “Sorry.”
You smile at him and his heart thunders in his chest. Is this how Romeo felt when he met Juliet? Or how Charles Bingley felt when he met Jane Bennett?
“It’s okay,” you told him, tucking the papers under your arm. “Don’t worry about it. So, you’re a doctor? That’s really cool!”
“Reid here got accepted into the BAU without even taking a physical exam,” Derek chimed in, practically bragging about Spencer’s intellectual prowess. “Isn’t that right, kid?”
“I’m not an athletic person,” Spencer said awkwardly, his worries dissipating when he heard you laugh good-naturedly. Regardless, he felt the urge to defend himself. “I’m not weak.”
JJ laughed along. “We know, Spencer.”
“I’m not weak… I’m not weak…”
“I don’t give a damn whether you’re weak or strong.”
Spencer barely manages to blink his eyes open as he hears the familiar timbre of Tobias’s father’s voice fill the room. He’s slowly coming down from the high of the drugs and the room spins as he does.
“Yell all you want boy,” Tobias sneers, bending down so that he’s eye level with Spencer. “Ain’t no one gonna hear you where you are.”
As if to prove his point, he begins to scream. Deep and rumbly, and it jolts Spencer back to reality. He wishes he was careful. He wishes he was with you.
***
“Tobias has dissociative identity disorder,” Garcia explains to you through the phone, and you slap a hand to your forehead.
“That makes so much sense,” You mutter to yourself, pacing around the room of the police department. “I should have seen it. It was right there in front of me and I missed it.”
Penelope hums, her voice tense with worry. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. No one knew until we started digging into the journals and cross-checking dates.”
“I know but–” You rub your eyes, cringing as stars litter your vision– “it was just so obvious. What else have you gotten?”
It has been a little over ten hours since Hotch sent you back to the police department and you haven’t gotten much sleep. You tried, you swear you tried, but every time you see the terrified face of Spencer and it makes you sick. The whiteboard in front of you is littered with different evidence files and profiles. Profiles on Tobias, profiles on the victims, geographical profiles… the list goes on.
“We know that Tobias is an addict,” Emily says. “He picked dilaudid as his poison.”
“For someone so hellbent on following the Bible, he’s incredibly hypocritical,” You say, jotting down the words onto the whiteboard.
“His personality is split into that of his father, Charles, and Raphael,” Emily continues, and you can hear the frown in her voice.
You’re about to say something when Garcia’s voice raises by an octave.
“Oh God,” she squeaks, and you can hear the clicking of keys in the background. “Morgan? Emily, get the others, oh my God!”
“What’s going on?” You demand urgently, gripping the phone tighter. “Garcia, what’s going on?”
“It’s Spencer,” her voice is hushed and far from the speaker, and your heart sinks to your stomach.
“What happened? Penelope, what happened?”
“We have to go,” she says hurriedly, and the sound of footsteps from the rest of the team fill the speaker.
“No! Wait, don’t hang—“
The sound of the prolonged dial tone echoes in your ears and you resist the urge to scream. You press the pads of your fingers to your eyes, hot tears wetting your skin. Crying will get you nowhere and you know that. You know that Spencer is holding on. He’s relying on the BAU to save him.
You gather all the available files on Charles Hankel, spreading them around the table. There’s not much to read; he’s lived a relatively quiet life. He was a farmer, his wife left him… dead end. Again. You’re at your wit’s end and you grab your keys.
“John, want to work on a federal case?” You ask, shaking your keys. The younger policeman nods eagerly and you point to the door. “Great. Let’s go.”
It’s a small country town in Atlanta. Someone has to know something, especially if Tobias was a drug abuser.
“We’re going to a few Narcotics Anonymous groups,” You explain to John who looks a little too excited to be sitting in a federal car. “Ask questions on Tobias Hankel and Charles Hankel. Someone has to know something.”
“All due respect, um, ma’am,” John stammers, and you raise an eyebrow amusedly. He coughs before continuing, “why aren’t you with the rest of the team?”
You falter, turning your attention back to the road. “They need me to work it from here. It doesn’t matter, anyway.”
Two miserable hours pass by with not much luck. Two hours that could have been used for something more meaningful than asking a bunch of drugged up assholes about the UnSub. Anxiety claws at your chest again as you flick through the answers. It’s nothing you didn’t already know.
“I got something,” John says a little breathlessly, jogging back over to you.
“Yes?” You need something. Anything.
“A few sheep were stolen off of a farmer’s property,” he says, flipping through the notebook and reading off his scrawny handwriting. “Wasn’t Charles a farmer?”
“What does that have to do with–” You feel your mouth go dry and you turn to him. “Which farm?”
“Which– um…” He swallows. “Mcallister? Shawn Mcallister.”
In seconds you’re dialling Garcia again and she picks up with a trembling, “hello?”
“Is Spencer alive?” You ask firmly, slamming the car door.
“Y-Yes. He’s– it’s not good, (Y/N),” she whimpers, clicking on the keyboard. “There was another murder. Spencer had to– he had to– he had to choose who to save. The UnSub fed a video to us, (Y/N), it’s horrible.”
There was another murder? John seizes up beside you and you grimace. You keep forgetting that John is practically a kid, barely twenty-one, and he hasn’t even seen the horrors of the world yet.
“But he came back, right? To Spencer?” You ask, gripping the steering wheel tighter in an effort to keep yourself steady. “Penelope, Tobias posted a video of the latest murder, right? When was it posted?”
“9:23,” she says woefully, typing away.
“Okay, and…” you check the police radio, biting your lip nervously. “Okay, it says that the call for the murder came in at 9:04.”
There’s a little static in the background along with some shuffling before she responds. “Um… okay?”
“John, I need a map. Where’s– goddamn it– where’s the map of the area, John?!”
He fumbles, spreading the paper open. “Here!”
“That road– it’s 60 miles an hour, right? That means he needs to be–” you scribble across the map, frowning. “That’s within seventeen miles of the crime scene. There’s a farm, uh, poaching or something. Mcallister farm?”
“We’ll find something,” Penelope says quietly. “I’ll try find the farm area. He is going to be okay, I promise.”
You let out a heavy breath. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
***
The guilt alone is enough to kill him. Spencer knows that he is not at fault for this; Gideon said so. Regardless, he can’t get their faces out of his head. They were happy. What if they had kids? They were good people; they didn’t deserve to die the way they did. Spencer’s head pounds as he slumps against the chair, his breath quickening when he realises that Tobias is right there.
“Sorry, I had to leave for a while,” Tobias, the real Tobias, says quietly, strapping the belt to Spencer’s arm again.
He’s felt this so many times now. The high, and then the inevitable low. There’s no point fighting it, Spencer tries to justify, it’s biology.
“You can leave again,” he says softly, “and you can take me with you.”
“My father would be angry,” Tobias says, drawing the liquid up the syringe.
“Not if he can’t find us.”
Tobias scoffs. “He always finds me.”
“If you tell me where we are, my friends will come and they’ll save us,” Spencer pleads, trying to look him in the eye.
“We can’t be saved,” he says dismissively, flicking the syringe.
Spencer sniffles, and for a split second he feels the fear course through his veins. “We can. We can, I promise, if you tell me where we are I’ll save us both.”
“Listen to me. It’s not worth fighting.” Tobias pauses, readying the syringe. “Tell me it doesn't make it better.”
The silence that follows is humiliating. He hates the way that he isn’t fighting anymore but he can’t. It’s almost as if his body doesn’t even want to listen to him. Tobias doesn’t waste another moment and the familiar feeling of artificial ecstasy floods Spencer’s mind.
“Tell me something I don’t know about you.”
The phrase was so unfamiliar and Spencer’s brows furrowed as he looked at you. It has been a couple weeks since you were officially indoctrinated into the BAU and he couldn’t be any happier. It felt nice to talk to someone who was his age, especially because he never really knew anyone of his age back in Las Vegas.
“What do you mean?” He asked.
You laughed and his heart fluttered in his chest. He remembered the feeling distinctly; how could he forget? The feeling is still the same now.
“I mean… tell me something not a lot of people know about you. Like… okay, I’ll go first. Um… my favourite flowers are hydrangeas. The purple ones.”
He committed that information to memory. Every year for your birthday he would buy you a new pot of hydrangeas for your apartment or something flower related like an automatic waterer or a replacement sun lamp.
“Hydrangea macrophylla,” Spencer said slowly, his cheeks flushed. “It means… gratitude, grace, and beauty. It’s fitting.”
He relished in the way your eyes lit up and the way you smiled at him. “Okay, your turn. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”
“Um… my middle name is Walter?” He chuckled awkwardly, wetting his bottom lip. “No one really calls me that, though.”
You typed something on your computer, reading out loud, “The name Walter is Germanic in origin and means ‘commander of the army’.”
His cheeks burned in embarrassment and he nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
“I like it.” You grinned at him. “Walter.”
Spencer choked a little, the hairs on his neck standing on end and heat crawling up his cheeks. “You– you don’t have to call me that.”
“I won’t if you don’t like it,” you told him.
“It’s not that I don’t like it,” he said quickly, his eyes widening. “I’m just not used to it.”
He remembers the way you beamed at him and the way he felt knowing that he made you happy.
“Well then,” You began, meeting his gaze, “I guess that means I just have to call you that more often.”
Tobias’s yelling brings him back and all he can do is stare as he watches him slam on the keyboard angrily. A bright red pop up is flashing on his computer, and Tobias turns to Spencer with a murderous scowl.
“They’re trying to silence my message.”
“I can’t control what they do,” Spencer defends tearfully, his voice wavering. “I’m not with them, I’m with you.”
Tobias scoffs again. “Really?”
He types something onto the keyboard and Gideon’s face show’s up on the screen. He’s leaning towards the camera, his words a mantra that Spencer repeats in his mind.
“Reid,” the crackly audio sounds with Gideon’s voice, “if you’re watching, you’re not responsible for this, understand me? He’s perverting God to justify murder. You are stronger than him. He cannot break you.”
Tobias slams the computer off, walking back to him. “You think you can defy me?”
“I don’t know what he’s talking about–”
“You’re a liar!”
Spencer can only grimace in response, the words caught in his throat. Tobias must have been able to see something and the fear creeps into his heart again as the man lunges for his arm. Tobias forces Spencer’s sleeve up and the guilt crashes like waves.
“You’re pitiful,” Tobias sneers, “Just like my son.”
Spencer wracks out a sob, silent pleas of mercy never leaving his lips. Maybe he does deserve this. Maybe, in some sick and twisted way, the universe is out to get him for all his shortcomings. Maybe, he thinks to himself as he watches Tobias turn the camera on, maybe he does deserve to die this way.
“This ends now,” Tobias snarls. “Confess your sins.”
“No,” he whimpers.
Tobias’s fist collides with the side of Spencer’s face with a resounding slap.
“Confess!”
“I haven’t done anything…”
His fist meets Spencer’s cheek again and all he can do is recoil in his chair.
“Tobias, help me,” he manages, but his plea is shut down almost instantly.
“He can’t help you, he’s weak. Confess!” He hits him again and the pain is almost too much to bear. “Confess your sins.”
Spencer sobs. “No…”
In a fit of anger, Tobias throws Spencer to the ground. It hurts. Everything hurts as he feels the back of his head meet the cold musty ground. He can’t breathe. He feels like he’s underwater. Have to breathe, he needs to breathe, why can’t he breathe? He needs to see you again. He can’t die like this. He can’t, he can’t, he needs to breathe. He tries to take a breath of air but it’s like his mouth is full of water. And just when he thinks he reached the surface, he’s pulled under once again.
Warmth. The feeling of his blood pumping to his ears is the first thing Spencer feels and his fingers twitch. He’s alive. There’s only one reason why that must have happened.
“I was given CPR,” he rasps out, Tobias’s words swirling in his head.
“There are no accidents,” Tobias says slowly. “How many members are in your team?”
Spencer can barely whisper the word. “Eight.”
“Seven, not including you. ‘The seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. The first sounding followed hail and they were thrown to Earth’.” He hoists Spencer’s chair upright, standing before him. “Tell me who you serve.”
“I serve you.”
“Then choose one to die.”
Spencer blanches, looking up at him. “What?”
“Your team members. Choose one to die.”
He doesn’t need to think when he responds, “kill me.”
Tobias jeers. “You said you weren’t one of them.”
“I lied.”
“Your team has seven other members. Tell me who dies.”
Spencer breathes in as if it were his last. “No.”
Tobias pulls out a revolver from his jacket pocket, spinning the cylinder before aiming it for Spencer’s head. “Choose, and prove you’ll do God’s will.”
“No.”
Tobias clicks the trigger and nothing happens so he repeats, “choose.”
“I won’t do it.”
The trigger clicks again and nothing happens. “Life is a choice.”
“No.”
Spencer’s mind is racing. His first thought goes to you. He knows you would understand any and all references he throws in your direction, but it makes him sick just thinking about putting your life on the line. He needs something. He needs to think.
“Choose.”
“I choose…” his voice stammers and he can barely see straight. “Aaron Hotchner.”
***
“We got him.”
The words echo in your mind as you pace up and down your hotel room, chewing on your destroyed nailbeds. It’s nearing two in the morning and you can’t sleep. The rest of the team are awake. Why should you be given the privilege of rest when none of them were able to? Why should you be given the privilege of rest when Spencer is out there fighting for his life? It’s not fair. Life isn’t fair.
When you hear the sirens outside you run out the door. Blood is pulsing in your ears and you’re still wearing the thin hotel slippers but it doesn’t matter. How could anything else matter? The car door clicks open and Emily helps Spencer out of the car. She whispers something to him and he looks in your direction. Those big hazel eyes stare at you with so much hurt and you can’t contain it anymore.
“Spencer.”
His arms wrap around your waist, his nose pressing against your neck as he holds you, breathing in the smell of your vanilla perfume. He almost doesn’t believe you’re real. He pulls you impossibly closer, sniffling, and he can feel your fingers run through his hair.
“You’re okay,” you whisper, trying to be reassuring, but he can hear the way your voice cracks. “You’re okay.”
“I should have listened to you,” He whimpers, feeling the cold wet rain soak through his shirt. “I should have– I’m so sorry.”
You shake your head. “Don’t be, Walter.”
The moment he hears that name spill from your lips he begins to cry. He’s okay. He’s with you now. You’re right here.
“I thought–”
You shush him for the first and last time, squeezing his arms. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay.”
He wonders how a person could be so warm. Even in the cold Atlanta weather you’re still so warm.
“Hotch wouldn’t let me work the case from the house,” you tell him quietly as you sit beside him on the bed. “Understandable. I screamed at him.”
He chuckles a little, flinching when you gently pull the bandage off the side of his face. He feels a lot better now that he’s clean, the shower more than necessary and he savours the feeling of warm water on his skin. The gash on his head is oozing sticky blood and you dispose of it accordingly, reaching into the first aid kit.
“It’s gonna sting a little,” you tell him, pressing a damp cloth to the wound.
He hisses at the contact, gripping your arm and he tries to change the subject. “Why did you scream at Hotch?”
You hum, continuing to clean the blood off his head. “I was mad at him.”
“It wasn’t his fault.”
“I know.”
You smile at him, applying a new bandage to his head. “It’s okay. I was able to help the case from here, anyway.”
“Stay with me,” he whispers, squeezing your hand. “Please?”
Your gaze softens. “Of course, Walter.”
He curls into your side, an arm wrapped around your middle and he breathes in the scent of your strawberry and honey shampoo. Your fingers curl in his hair, untangling the knots when your eyes flicker to your desk, the letter of resignation tucked inside your bag. He doesn’t need to know that. At least, not yet.
***
You knock at the door of Hotch’s office, chewing on your bottom lip. You remember being in this office for the first time four years ago when you were an intern; the way you shook with nerves and anticipation as you handed in your résumé for the honours program and then again when you were hoping to take the job full time. It’s ironic that you’re back at his office again, but for a very different reason.
“Come in.”
The breath that leaves your lips is shaky and you take a seat in front of his desk. “Hotch.”
“(Y/N).”
You place the pristine white envelope onto the desk,watching the way his face shifts from stoic to surprised.
“You don’t have to do this,” He says, not touching the envelope. “The situation at hand was stressful. No one blames you for reacting the way you did.”
“It’s not just because of that,” you say slowly. “You were right. I was too involved.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not true.”
“It is,” you say quickly, a humourless laugh slipping at your words. “I would have killed him.”
Hotch looks at you, his eyes meeting yours. “You wouldn’t have.”
“I would have,” you say surely. “After what he did to Spencer, if I had found him I would have killed him. And I would have– I would have slept well. I love this team, Hotch, but I can’t separate those feelings when I’m on the field no matter how hard I try.”
He’s quiet for a moment before nodding, rising from his seat. “I’m assuming it’s a two-week’s notice?”
You nod, also getting up from your chair. “Yeah. I– I don’t want to just leave, you know?”
“We’re going to miss you,” he says, walking with you to the door, “but this will be good for you.”
“I know.” You can feel the stares of the rest of the team through the glass and you can’t help but smile. “They’re horrible at being nonchalant.”
“They’re profilers,” Aaron chuckles. “Can you blame them?”
“I guess not,” you muse, pulling the door open. “Thank you, Aaron.”
“You always have a place here, (Y/N),” he says gently as you walk back down to the bullpen.
It doesn’t take long before the overflowing dam of questions burst and in moments Emily is crossing the room and sitting next to you.
“You’re leaving the BAU?”
You look at her with wide eyes before laughing a little. “You… are very good at your job, huh?”
“Oh…” Penelope tackles you in a hug, her arms tight around your frame. “We’re going to miss you.”
JJ sniffles a little, joining the hug. “Don’t forget us.”
“As if I ever could.” A bittersweet smile rests on your lips.
Derek hugs you as well, his chin on the top of your head. “Look after yourself, kid. We’ll make these last two weeks the best you’ve ever had.”
“If you ever need anything…” Emily begins slowly, squeezing your hands. “I’m here, okay?”
Gideon pats your shoulder lightly, a sad smile on his face. “You’re a good person. Never forget that.”
You nod, trying to blink away the tears that fill your eyes. “I know. Thanks, you guys.”
The opening and shutting of the BAU doors brings you out of your thoughts and the familiar head of brown hair stalking away makes your face fall. Gideon meets your gaze, gesturing towards the door. That’s all you need to run out of the bullpen.
“Spencer– Spencer, wait, please.” You tug on his arm desperately. “Please–”
“What do you mean you’re leaving?” He asks, his voice cracking. It has only been a few days since the incident and he looks a little better. The scratches on his face are still visible, but they’re fading slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I–” you falter, flinching at the pain and hostility in his voice. “It was never a good time.”
He scoffs quietly, rubbing at his arm. “You should have told me.”
“I couldn’t just randomly tell you,” you say, frowning. “How would that be fair?”
Spencer rubs his eyes, the dark bags beneath them even more prominent. “Why are you leaving?”
“I have to,” you say gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I love this job but I can’t do it anymore–”
“Why not?!”
“Because–!” You exhale, trying to calm yourself down. “Because I swore an oath when I took this job that I will put this country above myself. And I can do that. I would die for this country to protect the people in it, I will hunt down the people who make this country so unsafe and I will sacrifice myself willingly, but you? I can’t– I can’t lose you. If I had to choose between catching the UnSub and saving you, I would save you in a heartbeat. Even if that meant letting a bad guy go. Even if that meant more people would get hurt I would still choose you and I can’t let that happen.”
Your words deem him speechless and he shifts his weight on his feet. For a moment, all he can do is stare at you as your reasoning sinks in. It makes sense. He hates that it makes sense.
“So that’s it?” He asks quietly, finally looking you in the eye. “You’re actually leaving?”
“Not for another two weeks,” you tell him truthfully. “Besides, you can still text me. And call me. You know where I live so you can always visit.”
He bites the inside of his cheek anxiously, teetering on his feet before hugging you tightly, burying his nose into your hair. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
“I’m going to miss you too.”
His grip is tight around you and if you paid attention you could feel him tremble. “I can’t do this job without you.”
“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You can, Walter. You’re stronger than you think you are.”
There are so many things he wishes he could tell you. You’re right here. He doesn’t have to yearn for your touch anymore because you’re right here in his arms. He wants to tell you so many things. Like how he adores the colour of your eyes, or the way you smile, or the way your hair falls. He wants to tell you how much he likes spending time with you and how he feels so good with you but he can’t. The words are at the tip of his tongue so how can he not say anything?
“I–” love you– “I’m really going to miss you.”
“Me too,” you whisper. “Me too.”
← previous part || next part →
full work
reblogs are always appreciated!
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#matthew gray gubler#matthew gray gubler x reader#spencer reid x reader angst#spencer reid x reader fluff#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds angst#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds x reader angst#criminal minds x reader fluff#criminal minds series#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x you
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Celebrate
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Magda overdoes it
There are lots of things you like about parties.
The music. The endless food. The amount of fizzy drinks you can have.
Most of all, you like that you get to stay up past bedtime.
You sit in a little booth was a cup of sprite and a straw and blow more bubbles in your drink.
A lot of the Not-Wolfsburg girls are celebrating at the bar or on the dancefloor, where Guro is really having fun and people are giving Niamh a wide berth. Coach Emma is also dancing and you think she might be drunk.
You think Morsa is drunk too because she's halfway between giggly and weepy and she's stumbling around with some of the others.
Momma sits next to you, nursing her own drink as she opens another packet of goldfish crackers for you to munch on. You're feeling a little sleepy, forcing down your yawn because you know if Momma notices then she'll make you go home and you really don't want to go home right now.
Especially when Niamh is trying to dance but making it very clear that she can't do it properly.
You clamp down on your yawn and go to take another long drink of your sprite.
"Er...Pernille..." Millie says as she approaches. She looks a little awkward, rubbing the back of her neck with her hand. "Magda's..." She spares a look behind her. "Yeah, Magda..."
Momma sighs deeply. "She's pretty far gone, huh?"
"Yeah...She just got into the bathroom."
Momma stands up. "I'll look after her." She turns to you. "Stay here, okay? With Millie. She'll watch you."
You shrug. "Okay."
Millie slides into the booth next to you. "So," She says," What are you drinking?"
"Vodka."
"What?!"
You giggle, swinging your legs. "Don't be silly, Millie. I've got Sprite!"
She still looks a little sceptical and leans forward to sniff at your drink, pulling back when she's satisfied that it isn't actually alcohol.
You take a sip.
"Is Morsa being sick?" You ask.
"Er...no..."
You fix her with a look. "Don't lie," You say," Because Momma says when people drink too much, they throw up. Is that what Morsa's doing?"
"Yes."
You nod, finishing off your drink. "Can I get another sprite?"
Millie looks down at your empty glass and then back at the bar. "Stay here," She says," Don't wander off."
"Okay, Millie."
As soon as she's up by the bar, you slip out of the booth. You weave your way through the team, stumbling a little bit when someone bumps into you but you stay on your course to the toilets.
Morsa is hunched over one of them, throwing up her earlier meal as Momma rubs her back.
Morsa is crying as well, babbling about how much she loves Momma and the team and playing with her. She looks back to give Momma heart eyes but notices you by the doorway.
"I love you too, princesse," She cries," You're so small and I love you so much. You used to fit in my arms, do you remember? Come here, I can still hold you like that. I'll show you."
"Magda," Momma says in warning," Absolutely not. You're-"
Momma's interrupted by Morsa throwing up again and you wrinkle your nose in disgust.
"Go back out, please," Momma says to you," I'm looking after Morsa."
"I'm tired," You whine, stomping your foot," Can we go home?"
Momma looks at Morsa and nods. "Go back out to Millie please," She says," And tell her that we're going to go home."
"Okay!"
You're not actually tired but you do want to go home because you think if you stay here then Morsa will keep drinking and keep throwing up.
You find Millie easily, slipping into the booth again as she comes back with your sprite.
"Momma says we're leaving now," You tell her," Because Morsa is nearly done throwing up her dinner."
Millie winces. "Yeah, Magda might have overdone it today. Let me grab you a bowl for her."
Morsa hobbles out into the car, hunched over as you dutifully carry the bowl from Millie in your hands.
"In the front, Magda," Momma orders but Morsa refuses.
"Sit with our baby! She's gotten so big! Let me sit with our baby!"
"No, Magda," Momma says," In the front and if you don't throw up on the way home then you can give Princesse cuddles when we get home."
"Fine."
Morsa finally gets in the passenger seat.
(She doesn't get her cuddle at all because as soon as Momma turns on the car, she throws up everywhere).
#woso x reader#hardersson x reader#pernille harder x reader#pernille harder#magdalena eriksson x reader#magdalena eriksson#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso#the big adventures universe
549 notes
·
View notes
Text
One of my favourite things about S2 was that we got to see so much in terms of Ed's relationships with women, and it just made me love him even more (if that's humanly possible). We didn't see him interact with many women at all in S1 (I think it was only the posh ladies at the fancy party which was...yeah, not a good experience), so S2 actually giving us a glimpse into his friendships with all these (very different) kickass women was so, so special.
I love that, as messy and fucked up as they all are, and even with the 'well we're pirates, we're not normal and we will fuck with each other' threat that hangs over everything, Ed's relationship with Mary and Anne is still so affectionate, and they both thrown their arms around him the moment they see him. Even though Ed is incredibly tactile, I don't think we've actually ever seen him be hugged like this, and it's just so lovely to watch him be embraced and clearly feel very safe being embraced by these women (and I can't with the way he clings to them, as well). I also love that this is a wlw/mlm friendship; yeah it falls apart later and turns into delicious gay-on-gay violence (and I wouldn't alter a note of it), but I love seeing this sort of affection between queer women and queer men, there's not nearly enough of it.
Don't even get me started on the BFF handshake he has with Anne - I want all the history there, give me six spin-off films about their adventures please.
And then we finally get a glimpse of his relationship with Jackie, which is similarly just lovely, but in a different way? You get the sense that they could sit there for hours, talking shit about the world, all whilst casually ripping the shit out of each other (but affectionately). You also know full well these two have talked extensively about men and know pretty much everything about each other's sex lives - we didn't see it, but I'm absolutely certain that Ed went into full gushing details about sleeping with Stede, just like Jackie did when she talked about The Swede fucking like a jackhammer (historical accuracy ftw).
And, again, whilst they're still pirates, and it's messy, the entire thing feels incredibly...safe, particularly from Ed's perspective? He feels more comfortable around Jackie than he is around most other characters (apart from Stede), just like he was with Anne and Mary.
And then, just to hammer the point home even further that Ed has, generally, fantastic relationships with women, and connects with them, and feels relaxed and safe with them, you have Ed and Zheng becoming instant BFFs literally minutes after meeting each other. Ed goes 'ooh, very cool woman kicking ass and killing people, she shall be my best friend, immediately', and Zheng is automatically incredibly relaxed and open with him, too (suggesting she feels as safe and comfortable with him as he does with her).
All I want in life is to see Ed and Zheng get silly-drunk with each other (and this is why we urgently need a S3).
And none of Ed's relationships with these women are a fetishistic 'I love women because they're fabulous' thing, or an overly patronising paternalistic 'I love the women and I must protect them' thing - all the relationships he has with women are very equal, very comfortable, fully believable, just fantastic friendships to watch play out. I feel like, given everything we see on screen, Ed generally feels a lot more comfortable and safe and open with the women he knows than the men he knows (Stede is the only other person he is this physically affectionate and comfortable with). Which is probably very understandable? Yes, the women he's friends with are all violent pirates too (that's part of the joy of it - none of them are lovely demure morally pure women, they're all violent pirates), but Ed has a lot of experience with specifically overtly abusive men - right back to watching his dad abuse his mum. And that's a distinction that matters: the show treats the violence of normal piracy and the violence of abuse very, very differently. Ed is not used to being treated softly or affectionately by men, as we saw in his shocked reaction to Stede holding his hand. I don't think it's any wonder that he gravitates more towards friendships with women (or that the men he feels the most open and safe with, such as Stede, Fang, even Frenchie, are very pointedly the opposite of the abusive men he has experience with). I just love love love that being friends with women is such a core part of Ed's character, and that we got to see all of these fantastic relationships in the show.
#ofmd#our flag means death#edward teach#anne bonny ofmd#mary read ofmd#spanish jackie#zheng yi sao ofmd#ofmd s2 ep4#episode: fun and games#ofmd s2 ep7#episode: man on fire#ofmd s2 ep8#episode: mermen#ed x stede#blackbonnet#ofmd meta#erin waffles
975 notes
·
View notes
Note
hiii i have a request ( im not sure if you do requests sorry ) but if you do can you write one about chris getting drunk for the first time and confessing his love for you i love your fics you are such a talented reader i hope you have a great day
compass - c. sturniolo
in which ... a night of drinking for the first time ends with the confession of feelings from your best friend.
( bff!chris x black!fem!reader )
warnings ; mentions of alcohol, tooth rotting fluff :3
"𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔, 𝒊 𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖."
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰
whenever you decided to drink alcohol, it was usually on a special occasion, or if you hung out with a certain group of friends or people.
your best friends 21st birthday was a week ago, yet they hadn't consumed any alcohol on that day. you commended them for it, especially remembering your own 21st when that was one of the first things you did.
so it was a little shocking to you when one of your best friends, chris, decided that he wanted to try something to drink. it was very common for you and chris to hang out with each other alone on a regular basis, being that you were closest to him out of all three triplet brothers — this night in particular, you had just cooked a dinner for the both of you since he wanted to spend the night.
some days you and chris's relationship reminded you of an old, married couple — the really sweet gestures, yet not complete without the petty arguments over the smallest things. of course, the thing was you both were only friends. and it would never be nothing more than, which is what you had to remind yourself.
"okay, we're gonna start you off with something simple," you told chris with a grin, as he sat at the barstool chair at your kitchen island.
his eyes watch you curiously as you reach into your designated liquor cabinet, pulling out a bottle of don julio — you figured tequila would be the perfect thing to start him off with, and it felt special since that was also your first drink.
"tequila," chris says matter-of-factly, and you grin and snap your fingers at him as you set the bottle down on the counter. "how many shots do i need to take before i get drunk?"
"it depends on your body and how it tolerates it," you explain to him, setting down two shot glasses on the counter. "now, c'mere!"
chris grins and claps his hands together, walking on the other side of the kitchen island right next to you — he bumps his hip with yours slightly, and you narrow your eyes and playfully nudge him in response, as you focus on pouring the first two shots.
you held one up to chris, and his eyes twinkled mischievously as he accepted it. "cheers!"
you clinked the glasses with each other, and you watch out of the corner of your eye as chris tilts the cup, the liquid riding down his throat — you watch as he swallows it, his eyes scrunching up as he shakes his head, vigorously.
"strong shit," he coughs slightly, and you laugh as you down your own glass. your reaction is more relaxed, yet you also do the squeezing of your eyes as well.
"you get used to it, after while," you tell him, watching his expressions morph, "how do you feel?"
"like i wan' try another one," chris grins at you, nodding towards the bottle, "hit me."
you giggle at this, pouring him yet another shot. "whatever you say."
it wasn't long before you two had taken a considerable amount of shots with each other — you ended up on the couch in your living room, giggling mindlessly at whatever silly topics came to both of your minds.
you yourself were just a little tipsy, not fully drunk like chris had been — he clearly wasn't a lightweight, and you were shocked to see that he was handling himself pretty well. although you had to admit, it seemed like all of his intrusive thoughts and decisions seemed to come out more.
"chris, no don' you dare bother her!" you giggled uncontrollably, as chris is scrolling through his phone.
"she'll prolly laugh at us," he slurs, swiping his thumb across his nose as he lands on madison beer's contact name.
"leaveee that woman alone!" you whined, attempting to reach over and end the call, but chris held his phone up out of your reach.
he tsked as you pathetically tried reaching for his phone, yet to no avail as he laughed at you. "hello?"
"madi- hey madison!"
"who- who's speaking right now?" madison's voice asks curiously over the line, "chris, who're you with?"
"my future wife," chris says unashamedly, causing you to cover your mouth and gasp, heating blooming in your cheeks. his future wife?
"so...you're with y/n?" madison queries, a hint of amusement in her tone as she chuckles on the other end, "how bold of you to call her that while she's with you."
it had your mind running in circles — was that how chris regularly addressed you around other people? was he only joking when he said this? now it was all you could think, causing a newfound feeling to bloom throughout you, as you realized it was getting harder and harder to fight off the obvious you had developed for your best friend over the course of time. and when he said things like that, it didn't help or make matters any better for you.
"since when am i your future wife?" you ask him nervously, and he clears his throat and his eyes widen slightly as if he'd realized what he just said.
"okay so you haven't told her," madison concludes, clicking her tongue, "you guys both sound drunk! please sleep it off. and goodnight!"
"nooo, wait mad-"
the sound of a click could be heard from the other line, and you whine helplessly as you realized she'd hung up. what was it that chris had lacked telling you?
"i wan' go on the balcony," chris mumbles drunkenly running a hand over his face as he attempts to stand up.
you quickly realized he was stumbling a bit, so as quick as you could without getting whiplash, stand up and grab his waist to steady him — you figured he was getting hot and stuffy, so he most likely needed some air to cool down.
"kay' i gotchu," you remind him, helping him to walk towards the balcony doors.
you slide the door open, and a cold gust of wind hits you immediately as the both of you make your way towards the railings — chris lets out a breath he'd been holding, letting his arms rest on the railing as he looked down below you guys.
even in your tipsy state, you mindlessly smiled as you gazed up at the moon — it was without a doubt one of your favorite things to look at, and you honestly liked it better than the sun. the moonlight casted a glow upon your face as you stared up with so much admiration. unbeknownst to you, the moon wasn't the only being admired in that particular moment.
"the moon is so pretty tonight," you said, not taking your eyes off the crater ridden sphere.
"yeah, s'pretty," chris agrees — except he wasn't looking at moon; his eyes were focused on you.
you turn back to look at him, but his eyes have already been on you — a nervous smile makes its way onto your face as you both stare into each other's eyes, which feels like it's going on forever.
his hand reaches out to stroke your pretty, warm brown skin — it wasn't uncommon for chris to show random acts of affection towards you, at all. yet somehow, this felt different.
"y'know whats funny?" chris chuckles, moving closer to you as he continues to look at you.
"what?" you ask him, your eyes staying locked on his.
"everyone's always sayin' a compass is only that metal object with a north, east, south, and west way to guide them throughout life, or throughout anything, really," he explains, slurring slightly along the way, "but i disagree. a compass doesn't have to just be an object — it can be a person."
you let his words sink in, and you found yourself in agreeance upon his words — it was absolutely possible for someone to tell their way throughout the world with someone they loved or cared about by their side.
"that- thas' so true, chris," you tell him, smiling as you look at him. "d'you have a compass?"
"promise y'won't laugh when i tell ya?" he says, his eyebrows pinched — he was still drunk, but something about his expression was serious.
"course i won't laugh."
"you're my compass, y/n," chris tells you softly, words slurred as he gulps and looks at you. "y'my compass, y'know that? feel like if i didn't have you in my life things would've been a little harder, y'get me? always got my back and always there when i need you."
your eyes twinkled as you stared up at him with admiration — you'd never even realized chris thought of you in such a way. sure he told you that he was grateful you were in his life, but to be the equivalent of a compass? an object used to guide someone throughout their life and to be there for them?
"and it's the reason i fell in love with you."
the words hit you all at once, yet you wished you could hear every syllable being said again as you soaked in what chris just told you. a soft gasp escapes your lips as you stare at him.
his words must've sunken into him as well, which caused his eyes to widen as he realized what he just told you — a wave of panic coursed throughout his body, and he found himself overcome with heat that rushed to his cheeks.
"sh-shit, m'sorry, i didn't mean to-"
"you're in love with me, chris?" you ask him, eyes boring into his blue ones.
he searched yours for any trace of resentment, or disgust even — and to his surprise and fortunate, your eyes didn't hold not even an ounce of those emotions. he searched, and he found something he'd been hoping to find since the day you had both met.
"yeah, m'in love with you," chris mumbles again sheepishly, scratching the nape of his neck as he nervously chuckles, "have been for a really long time, but i didn't think you would..."
it was hard to listen to the words that escaped his mouth, because all you could focus were his pink lips that looked ever so inviting. so without waiting any longer, you stand on your tippy toes, connecting your lips with his.
chris is shocked at first, but he melts into the kiss with ease soon — this was his dream come true, and he'd been thinking about the moment he would finally be able to do this freely. his hands snake around your waist gently, and he held onto you, for fear that if he let go he'd be woken up from this fever dream.
little did he know, you weren't going anywhere — you were there to stay. as he said previously, you were his compass.
the electricity in the kiss was everything you both had been hoping for, lacking nothing and it was as if everything you have ever felt for each other blended into that one kiss you shared with each other.
when you finally pulled away from him, you breathlessly rested your foreheads against each other's. "i love you, chris."
( lilly's corner 💌 )
i was listening to human nature to help me write this, and i actually really love how this came out ! i love you guys so much, and i hope you enjoyed it too ! thank you for the request, anon. 💌
@muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @luverboychris @cottoncandyswisherz @chanelles-world @sturnprime @middlepartmatt @chrissturniolossidehoe @sturniqloo @chaossturns @mbbsgf @jetaimevous @sturnsxplr-25 @moonk1ss3d @lollycoldzzz @yourfavava
#lilly's love letter💌#mattslolita 💌#asks 💌#anons 💌#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#christopher owen sturniolo#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo edit#christopher sturniolo blurb#christopher sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo#the sturniolo triplets#the sturniolos#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo headcanon#sturniolo fandom#sturniolo fluff#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo triplets imagine#sturniolo triplets imagines#sturniolo triplets x reader#sturniolo x reader#sturniolos#sturniolotriplets
201 notes
·
View notes
Text
one dare, one kiss - jude bellingham blurb.
quick sum: when a game of truth or dare goes to plan, you’re faced with mixed feelings and your best friend questioning if there was more than what you two had…
wc: 2.2k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist
psa 🗣️: this was small and simple, so i finished it!! hope everyone is okay after all this jude content because i sure am not going to stop talking about it ☺️ hope you enjoy! 🤍
it felt silly. the whole concept of the game. the spinning bottle. drinks laid everywhere. people laughing or messing around. at this age you shouldn’t be playing this but after they begged you, here you were sitting as you distracted yourself from everyone.
it started as a game of truth or dare, the dares consisting of calling an ex, posting on social media, eating or take a shot of something, having to read your messages or search history, all that. or also let the curiosity win the best of people and having people to answer truthfully when they saw the dares would be extreme. such a kid but also adult game once you grew up.
what started as a game of an innocent truth or dare, gradually turned into now a mix of that and spin the bottle. everyone was up for the thrill, knowing this was for pure fun and no feelings involved. while you were up for the idea, the hesitation always held you back, forcing yourself to just go along instead of leaving.
you chatted quietly with your friends, teasing one of them since they had a crush on a boy in the group. although at the start you found the game silly, now you cheered and felt your veins anticipating with nerves, not wanting the bottle to land on you. you knew you weren’t as experienced, and the last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself, especially if you picked dare.
jude couldn’t stop glancing at you, his eyes never leaving you as you enjoyed the party. was he only one who felt it? the tension? the feeling of desire to take things to the next level? to prove to you, that you didn’t need anyone else besides him? how he agreed this game was silly or couldn’t come to terms with his jealousy if he were to see you kiss someone else who wasn’t him…
jude wasn’t tipsy or drunk, but he felt like it anytime you looked or walked into a room. the ability of you to take his breath away in the smallest way possible, when you smiled, laughed, frowned, spoke, he was madly in love with you as a whole. longing to feel you next to him at all times.
jude bit the inside of his cheek, also feeling his heart race when he saw the empty casa blanco bottle slowly start to slow down. as soon as you saw it was jude’s turn, you felt your stomach turn in a displeased manner, hating the idea if you were to see him kiss any of your friends or a stranger.
you refused to look up, looking down at your nails and biting the inside of your lip as you waiting for the bottle to land on whoever it would. you felt it go slower than usually, testing your limits and patience because it was taking forever.
small gasps and yelps of cheers made you look up, jude staring at you with his lips slight agape. you looked around before looking down at the bottle facing directly at you. the game was childish, but you couldn’t deny the small young school girl in you getting excited over a silly game and getting picked.
“truth or dare jude?” your friend who you’d been teasing the whole night asked him knowing you wouldn’t be able to speak. you watched as he clenched his jaw before answering. “dare,” he spoke lowly but voice full of confidence, you bit your tongue, knowing he would either do the dare or face the consequences.
“for our sakes and yours, we’re daring you to kiss our lovely y/n right here,” she gently shook your shoulders, you send daggers to her, eyes wide as you wanted to shut the idea letting the nerves take over your system. “oh cmon, it’s that or telling everyone what you were saying last night when you were drunk,” she had a playful look on her face, jude shaking his head immediately at the thought.
jude tended to yap a lot when the was alcohol in his system, and last night wasn’t any different except he wouldn’t stop talking about you. how much he loved you, how pretty and kind you were, how you were the only one for him and never judged him, how much he loved your baking or when you wore his hoodies. you and no idea about this, so it raised a question in your head at what they were referring to.
“what are y’all talking about?”
“nothing!” jude was quick to dismiss his cheeks flushing with shyness and embarrassment. you raised a brow, but shook your head, knowing it was probably something boyish. jude somehow got closer to you, now on his knees as his eyes bore with yours. jude could see your pupils dilated, your lips tainted with a colored coat, your nose piercing blinging in the light as he leaned over you.
you cleared your throat, looking around unsure at every on their feet awaiting your next moves. jude leaned his head down, “it’s okay angel… one kiss and we can move onto the next dare,” he said only to you. part of you asked “what if” one kiss wouldn’t be enough for you, another asking if it was a good idea.
all you could do was nod instead of responding, almost being able to hear the squeal coming from your friend besides you. you let out a small breath as jude made the first move and placed his hand around your waist, your thumbs stroked his cheek almost losing your breath. you felt his warm finger tilt your face up to his, his thumb releasing your bottom lip that was stuck between your lips.
your mind raced with thoughts, he was finally going to kiss you, this was gonna happen and no one wanted to stop it. jude closed the last bit of space, his right hand resting just below your pulse as he captured your lips with his. you fell in love with how soft they felt, wanting to cringe at the aftertaste of beer on his lips but instead you found it sweet and pleasant.
this is what you were afraid of, of jude pulling away when you craved and wanted more of him. having waited and dreaming about the moment since forever, or more specifically after slow dancing at a school dance. jude on the other hand had to hold back the groan that wanted to escape his lips, his hand slightly tightened along your pulse point and throat.
it started off small and bare, now turning into a full makeout. his tongue tracing your lips before fully dominating your mouth, his hand now fully wrapped and secured on your waist, as he felt your tongue also trace his in a heated manner. he swallowed a small whimper from you, feeling your hands come to his face and push him away gently after kissing for a while.
you felt hot, every cell on fire, hair on your arms raised despite it all. with one simple kiss he already tortured your head into wanting more than just one. “we said a kiss jude, not a full makeup session… nice to know how you feel though,” your friend winked at you, watching how you sat slowly. your lips feeling sore, and now tainted with him.
it was all you could think about, how he tasted, how we kissed you like a devotion, how he held you, how you knew he didn’t want to pull away at all. the group decided to get more drinks before starting another round. you had gone into the house, making your drink to calm the pit in your stomach. was it possible for the aftermath to be this strong?
from jude:
where are you??
i thought you were with your friends?
to jude:
i’m in the kitchen! in the main house
from jude:
omw, i need to talk to you about something.
you avoided his eyes as he walked into the dark and empty kitchen, only strays from the moonlight decorating the marble tiles floors. your heart raced faster at his footsteps approaching you. he caged you in, hands on either side of you as he forced you to look up at him. “are you okay darling?” he spoke in a hush tone, making you shiver.
“yeah i-i-am good, just getting a drink, you? are you okay?”
“that was something, wasn’t it?” he asked, wanting to talk about what happened. to him it stopped being a game as soon as they dared him to kiss you. to jude, this was your official first kiss and he wanted to pour his heart right here and then. “the game? yeah, yeah it was? they’re probably regret some of the stuff they did tomorrow…”
jude frowned upon hearing you say regret. we’re you regretting kissing him? the kiss that was forever engraved in his head now? how could you possibly say that when you almost begged for more on the spot? “regret? do you regret what happened? our kiss?” jude was afraid of your answer, especially once you began to move around.
a moment of silence passed, shaking your head no. “no i don’t regret it… not one bit which should seem like an issue,” you laughed scratching your temple. “why would it seem like an issue? hmm?” jude cocked his head to the side, looking at you endearingly. he could see you, but you couldn’t pull back as your eyes traced his veins that roamed his skin.
“well we’re best friends? best friends don’t kiss.”
“are we just that though, y/n?” jude tested the waters, his hand sneaking around your waist once again. the familiar heat arose in your body again, “jude we shouldn’t. they’re waiting for us-”
“answer the question y/n. they haven’t even noticed we’re gone and i don’t think they’ll come looking for anytime soon,” jude reassured you. “i don’t know okay? i don’t know jude! this whole situation it’s making me feel and question things!” you try to escape but he impossibly pulls you closer to him. chest to chest.
“shh baby… it’s okay… just me and you here like i said. you’re scared and that’s okay but i promise you once we’re done, it will be worth it,” jude said, making you weak in the knees resisting the urge to kiss his pretty face. “so tell me. are we just friends?”
“no we’re not. because friends don’t just kiss and feel stuff. they don’t practically live together, moving miles away from their home to be with them. friends don’t sleep and cuddle in the same bed at night. friends don’t hold onto hope and love one day they’re going to see how you feel for them…”
“you’re my every thought, when i wake up, go to bed, when i hear the stupid craig david song, your name. it’s impossible at this point because you’re everywhere. i tried to tell myself maybe because we were attached but jude i cant take it anymore, i feel like im going to explode,” you continued.
“me either y/n… believe me… all i could think about how it felt right. like we are right now. how perfect it feels for you or me to be in each others arms. how when we’re together the only thought and feeling i have is pure happiness and security. i want that with you. i want to prove to you it’s me and you. it’s always been like that. y/n and jude…” you giggled at his last reference, tucking your head into his chest.
“just so you know and we’re on the same page, i want to be more than your best friend, i wanna be your boyfriend and maybe your husband one day… i just love you so much y/n, you have no idea,” jude confessed eyebrows slightly twinging as spoke, leaning down to sit you on the counter, still caging you.
“and i hope you know judey,” you smile as you said his nickname jude shyly looking away, “i’m just as madly in love with you… have been since the first time we met. can you believe it? all these years and it took a simple truth or dare to confess our feelings?” you ask in bewilderment, hand stroking his jaw as you pulled him closer to you.
“i really want to kiss you right now,” jude said along your lips, making your tummy flutter with eagerness to feel him pressed on you. “then do it. we’re not playing anymore-” you were quickly shut up, jude bring you close to his ad his hand rested along the nape of your neck. the room was hot, your legs tightly wrapped along his hips as he continued to devour you as a whole.
the night was just starting for the both of you, your friends long gone. just now the two of you relishing the intimacy together in his room. the pants, groans, moans, all causing you to feel dizzy and incoherent. jude not far behind as he was more in love with you. it wasn’t just sex because you felt the need or have to, his thrusts and rolls of hips proving it was love making and gloat over the closeness of your bodies sunk together.
you wouldn’t have had it another way, feeling thankful for the stupid silly game of truth of dare.
374 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tipsy (S.R.)
Summary: Spencer can’t handle his liquor, or how much he loves Reader. Request: Tipsy Spence asking for kisses and cuddles? - @smutmecca
Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader Category: Fluff (16+ for sexual themes) Content Warning: Alcohol mention, drunk Spencer, flirting, kissing, heavy petting, sexual themes Word Count: 750
MASTERLIST
Everyone knows Spencer can’t handle his liquor. Regardless of the reason he prepared to give, most people wouldn’t question why he abstained altogether. They all just assumed—correctly—that it was for the best.
But there were still those rare nights, the ones punctuated with only happy calls home, where even he felt compelled to celebrate.
On one those nights, you let him. You sacrifice your own preferred celebratory activities so that at least one of you can be on your best behavior.
That was a good decision, too, because while you were behaving, Spencer decidedly was not.
From his position next to you in the booth, your boyfriend is pressed against you so tightly he might as well be sitting in your lap. Even with almost no air left between your bodies, he keeps inching closer until his face is mere inches from yours.
“You’re sooo pretty,” he slurs.
You hate how cute it seems.
“Really?” you answer with a heavy dose of sarcasm. Because, while flattering, it was the fifth time he’d said it over the span of an hour.
“Yes, really. It is a fact,” he confidently replies.
Just as quickly, though, his lips turn into a pout when you don’t seem impressed by his astute observation.
“Because—,” he hiccups, “—I’m a genius, actually, and I know for a fact that you are really, really pretty. Actually.”
You can’t stop the laugh from sputtering between your lips. Spencer, partially heartbroken, also can’t help but to join you in the laughter.
After all, you look so beautiful when you smile.
His attention gets caught in the crinkling of your eyes and he is immediately lost in his admiration.
His hands are burning hot when he grabs your face, but you accept the heat. You lean into his palm and watch as his pupils dilate in response.
Your reflection shifts in his eyes, and just before he can kiss you, you whisper, “I’m not a genius, but I’m pretty sure you’re drunk.”
Downtrodden by the second rejection in a matter of seconds, Spencer is quick to (attempt to) correct you.
“Mmmmno I don’t think so,” he slurs.
Needless to say, you aren’t convinced.
But he looks so beautiful when he is hopelessly in love with you, and so you let it go.
“Whatever you say, pretty boy.”
The surrender ignites a fire in your silly little boyfriend. In an attempt to quell his desire, you offer him a slightly tighter embrace.
Spencer drops his head against your shoulder without delay. His barely-there stubble tickles you when he starts to nuzzle against your neck. Instead of pulling away, you just return a dreamy sigh.
The sound was either the very right or very wrong thing to give that foolhardy boy. As soon as the noise leaves your lips, he turns his face and begins a series of feverish kisses against sensitive skin.
You bite back a moan at the feeling and thank the stars that no one else can see his blatant display of affection.
Half-heartedly, you push him away. You immediately regret it when it has the opposite of its intended effect.
Spencer’s hand begins insistently sliding up the inside of your thigh until he hits the edge of your bottoms.
You jump with an audible squeak. Your knees knock against the table, and, with both arms, you fully shove him away.
“Whoooa—oh my god! Okay, time to go home!”
When you turn to face him, however, the embarrassment is replaced with a more primal feeling.
Because Spencer is looking at you like a man starved. With blown out pupils and a scratchy voice, he growls, “Finally.”
The sound causes goosebumps to ripple over your skin. You try to seem a little calmer, cooler than you are.
“Come on, genius,” you sigh.
On the short walk to your car, your mind immediately starts to wander with what you might do to punish him for the scene he’d caused. Spencer notes your little smirk as you help him into the passenger seat.
“Just wait until we get home,” he taunts.
For a moment, you are excited.
That feeling is fleeting, though. Because by the time you get to the driver’s seat, you turn to find that sweet, silly boy already fast asleep.
You laugh—quietly, so as not to wake him. You find a silent victory in the simple sight of him happily at rest.
In a different kind of way, you can’t wait to get home, because as soon as you do, you know you’ll never get his sleepy figure off you.
(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)
Reid Taglist: @mrs-dr-reid , @dreatine , @hopefulfangirl24 , @laurakirsten0502 , @dontcallmekittens , @rintheemolion , @andreasworlsboring101 , @imsuperawkward , @wentz2005 , @lovejules888 , @dashneydanger , @materialisthicc , @violetspoetic , @mslowlife , @conniesanchor , @trippol-threat , @will-byers-needs-a-hug
Complete Taglist: @cynbx , @emsma11 , @mediocre-writer , @fightingdragonswithwho , @andiebeaword , @jayyeahthatsme
Thanks for reading!
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fluf#spencer reid smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
HIIII OMG I LOVE YOUR WRITING. Its so comforting but also quite accurate to the character’s personality.
I wondered if u could make a part 2 of Drunk, with Adrian and the reader.
Be free with your imagination i am sure it will turn out great!
🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
Hi anon, sorry it took me so long to answer but I had no ideas what to write for this request. 😳
My writing has changed a little since I wrote part 1 of this. Hopefully, it'll be still up to standard.
Days after the incident, Adrian was still haunted by the things he had said and might have said while inebriated. It seemed rather silly, considering you haven't mentioned anything about that night, kind as you were. However, the son of Dracula was shaken after exposing himself to you, in more ways than one.
At the memory of him practically showing his naked chest in your face whilst rambling drunkenly about his loneliness, he could feel his face warming up. He undoubtedly has that unflattering shade of pink on his right now. Adrian lifted his chin from his steepled fingers, pressing his forehead against them instead. Instead of moping behind the wooden table, he should be making dinner as he watched bits of dust dancing in the last rays of evening sun streaming through the Tudor windows.
At this moment, you're probably getting both their beds ready for the night. Pulling back the bedspread and making a fire in the fireplace. You made a habit of slipping a stem of lavender from the garden and putting it under the pillows. He can hear you fussing about it, even though you're one floor higher. The dhampir's senses were finely attuned to your every breath and every movement. It came to the point where it was torturous. He wasn't just trying to dull away the pain of his past, but these pressing feelings as well.
Damn him, again and again, he's becoming attached to people only to be left every time. No doubt you will leave too, once you're able to. He'll be nothing but a fond memory...
"How's the dinner? I hope there'll be someplace left on the stove for teap-"
He's dragged away from his gloomy thoughts by the sudden sound of your voice nearing the door. You stopped mid-sentenced when you saw him sitting at the kitchen table, instead of working at the stove. He felt an immediate pang of guilt.
"Apologies I've seem to be a bit addle-brained today."
Adrian offered an apology as he started pulling the cutlery from its hooks. Hopefully with his back turned and his hands occupied, you won't notice his rather obvious fluster.
"Ah, it's alright," you waved him off in a placating manner as you rounded the table towards him. "Head still spinning from the vine, I see." you teased him as he made a fire in the stove, almost making him set his brows on fire.
As you walked past him, you gently put your hand on his back to make him step away. A whisper of a touch, yet he was tingling all over, his heart beating irregularly.
He clutched the edges of the stove, ignoring the rising heat. It can't go on like this. He has to do something.
You prepared the dinner in relative silence. You chopped mushrooms as he prepared pastry into small pans. Soon, bulky savory tarts were pulled out of the stove. He watched you wolf down four tarts in the row, while his plate was left neglected, safe for the few pokings with the fork.
"Adrian?"
His head snapped to you at the sound of your voice. He noticed you were looking at him in concern.
"What is it? You've been spaced out for days now." It was your turn to study your plate as you mumbled, "Is it...about the kiss?"
He was definitely blushing now. Adrian took a generous gulp of water from his chalice as he contemplated his answer.
"Yes and no."
You looked at him in confusion and he sighed in resignation.
"I'm sorry...my friend. The thing is..." He caressed the grooves in the ground glass. Would she even understand? What kiss meant to him?
"There have been several attempts in my life. There have been people who stayed in this castle pretending to be my friend and then turning on me as soon as I became vulnerable."
Adrian closed his eyes momentarily, chasing away the tainted memory of their hands coiling around him like vines of a poisonous plant. The pleasure, and the pain. So, so much pain... He opened his eyes and there were your eyes, filled with some much tenderness he had to suppress the urge to look away again.
"But last night, you didn't... and you could, easily so."
"I'd never-"
"I know, I know," he gently cut you off by putting his hand over yours. Your palm was much warmer than his, dainty fingers covered completely by his long ones.
"Believe it or not, but you singlehandedly restored a great deal of my hope in humanity. What once had been destroyed..."
He hasn't allowed his mind to wander to dark places, not this time.
"I don't mean to bring up such depressing subjects. But when one leads a life such as mine, you tend to... figure some things out."
"Things?" You carefully prompted, pity overrun by curiosity at last.
Adrian smiled in a self-deprecating fashion. "Well, for example, I have now discovered that in this entire world, I only have one close friend. You are my only solace, the only person that I can talk to regularly."
There was Trevor and Sypha, of course, but they found solace in one another, something deeper than friendship. Adrian understood now, what those feelings meant. His next words were full of emotion.
"I don't know what tomorrow will bring. I don't know if more demons will come and I'll be forced to fight them off. I don't know if the world will end tomorrow... and that used to not bother me. I used to not mind the idea of death. To slip into the quiet sleep..."
He trailed off, and you squeezed his fingers in encouragement. He squeezed yours right back, so you know he's not spiraling again.
"However, whatever courage I have towards that cause always sours at the thought of what comes after. What does come after do you think?"
You looked over his shoulder in contemplation, you traveled places far away from here, no doubt. Thankful you're entertaining his silly musings, Adrian patiently awaits your response.
"I'd like to think it's a place where I meet all my loved ones once more." You gave him a warm smile.
He chuckles at that. "Interesting response."
"What about you? What do you think?"
Adrian shook his head, golden locks tumbling over his shoulders, "As I said, the fear of not knowing that is the only thing that kept me alive for quite some time. But now, now that I've spent some time with you, it allowed me to clear my mind of that sort of dangerous thought. I think I may have an answer, maybe not a very good one but..."
He gingerly trails his hand from yours to the curve of your elbow and you let him. He leans closer, tone bordering on a soft whisper as he looks into your eyes.
"It doesn't matter what comes next, that shouldn't dictate our actions while we are still here. If you want something, chase it." He puts the other hand on your cheek, making his intentions clear with his actions and his words. Carefully, so you can pull away at any time.
Please don't.
"You have allowed me, to come to this mindset," he sighs. "The thought that what I want is worthwhile to pursue. So I will pursue that which I want. I will pursue... you."
It is evident that his words left you speechless. You stare at him with your mouth slightly parted. Adrian lets out a small breathless chuckle.
Is it really that shocking? After our lips have already become acquainted?
"I know...I know that I'm... half human, half vampire, so at the very least I know it can work, but it's up to you, really." His thumb caressed your cheekbone, "I will continue to pursue you for as long as you allow me."
He can see your eyes glistening with emotion, and he hoped his words touched the part of your soul he wanted them to. However you still haven't said a word and Adrian needs you to voice your desires, or lack thereof, directly.
"I bid you command me now. My devotion is solely placed at your feet. I truly cherish you. Every step you take and breath you breathe."
You close your eyes and choke back a sob as he places one small kiss on your forehead.
With a voice clogged up with emotion, you finally release him from his torment.
"I... would love... nothing more... than to be pursued by you." You say as you give him a watery smile.
He lets out a relieved sigh as he presses his forehead to yours.
"Then pursue you I shall."
It takes only a moment for the atmosphere to change around you. With hunger, you never saw in his eyes, he whispers to you hoarsely.
"Come here, you..."
The kiss is devoid of any sweetness the first one had. This one is full of fire and blood and passion that takes your breath away. You don't have time to react as he pulls you to his lap. His kiss goes down your throat and settles in your belly like a fine liquor.
#adrian fahrenheit tepes#adrian tepes#castlevania alucard#alucard#adrian tepes x reader#adrian tepes x you#alucard x reader#alucard x you#castlevania#adrian tepes fanfic#castlevania fanfiction#castlevania romance#mushroom pastries are original medieval recipe from France#if someone even cares#adrian likes to mope too much#needs someone to pull him away from it
190 notes
·
View notes
Text
Do We Have a Deal
Synopsis: Your shy sweet tutor could use a lesson of his own
Character:Choso x reader
CW:afab reader, smut with a little plot, cum eating, unprotected sex(wrap that willy), riding, kinda dom reader, reader is sassy, choso is shy, alcohol consumption, oral m receiving ,3.5k words, collegeau
A/N: i wanna rub my pussy juice on choso’s face also thankyou to @aztecbrujeria for fueling me with Choso content that basically motivated me to write!
Choso gets sweaty palms when he just so much as looks at you. His breathing becomes jagged and he finds himself holding his chest in an attempt to contain his sudden excitement. His eyes scanned over the crowded room watching the way people danced, sweaty bodies pressed against one another.
“You’re too tense, have a drink” Itadori’s voice yelled over the obnoxiously loud music.
This isn’t the kind of scene choso would normally find himself in. He’s not a partier yet, somehow he found himself pressed against a corner wall watching with fatigued eyes as sweaty bodies grind on one another. He’s not a drinker yet somehow he found himself gulping down large amounts of alcohol and grimacing after each sip. The only real reason he can say he’s here for is you. You love to party. You’re honestly the exact opposite of him if he’s being honest. You’re outgoing, you seem to always know the right things to say. Your laugh, my god your laugh, it’s one of the only things Choso can hear over and over again. You are such a ball of sunshine Choso finds himself squinting whenever he stares at you. He watched with low lidded eyes as you mingled with the crowd. Your clothes were skin tight showing off every curve. Choso's eyes analyzed every inch of skin he saw. Your plush thighs jiggled with each step you took, your plump lips formed a gentle smile. Choso wasn't a fan of sweaty bodies but the way your skin looked glistening covered in a sheen of sweat left him wondering, what other parts of you look as glorious as this? He shook his head almost embarrassed by the lewd thoughts that plagued him. His feet dragged him to the nearest exit. It was hot There were so many sloppily drunk people falling over him. He almost tripped over someone laying on the floor. His face scrunched up at the sight.
Parties are so silly , he thought to himself. He wondered why you liked them so much. He found himself standing aimlessly at the front entrance. He could have push his way back in through the sweaty bodies and find some sense of purpose in the party. He’d rather not waste his time doing that. He sat on the porch tapping his foot to the sound of the muffled music inside.
“You don’t seem like the party type” a voice rang out behind him.
“I’m not,” he answered without looking.
He felt a body plop down next to him unnaturally close. The skin to skin contact normally would have annoyed him but his head turned to see you sitting smiling at him. Your eyes were low and he could tell you had been drinking.
“Why are you here then” You questioned with a smug smirk.
Choso staresd wondering why you were outside with him right now. You looked exceptionally beautiful in the moonlight. You smelled nice too. He wondered how you could be so put together even when you had an altered state of mind. His eyes moved down to your lips. They looked so plump and soft. He was so caught up in you he nearly missed what you said to him.
“I-I’m sorry what was that?” he was usually never this nervous.
He fumbled over his words. His palms are even more sweaty than before. He’s fearful you might hear the way his heart is pounding in his chest.
“I asked if you were okay,” you smiled softly “ You’re out here all alone and I just wanted to check up on you”
What a kind soul you are.
“I’m alright, I’m just not a party guy” he said lowly “Why are you out here”
He wanted you to say because you were following him. He wanted you to say you couldn’t stand the thought of being at a party where you couldn’t find his face in the crowd.
“Someone threw up on the couch and it smelled horrendous” you said showing disgust at the memory.
Oh.
“And I saw you leave I just wanted to check up on my friend”
Oh?
“I um “ he felt himself growing even more nervous and he couldn't help but laugh at himself.
“You’re laughing”
“I am” he wasn't sure if it was the alcohol that caused the sudden surge of bravery but his words shocked him “You make me nervous” he voiced
“I can tell” you said.
There was a silence between the two of you. It wasn't one that was awkward more so one that made him smile. He could feel your eyes staring at him causing him to feel hot all over.
“You never answered my question”
His eyes met yours and he almost regret turning to you.
“What question”
“If you’re not a party guy why are you here.”
You sat back leaning on your hands eyes never leaving him.
“You” he wished he could take the simple word back. His face went a sharp red. He turned away embarrassed at his sudden bravery.
“Me?” you said leaning forward coming close to him.
“Yes” his voice cracked and he wanted to hide away in a hole.
“But…” you leaned close, so close Choso was almost positive he could feel your lips against his skin. Your chest pressed against his arm and he could see the smug smile you had knowing the effect you had on him. You gave him a soft giggle before pulling back just enough to stare at him.
“You never speak to me when you come to these parties.” You said.
Your hand reached for his hand. He knew his palms were sweaty and he wanted to pull away to dry them but you moved too fast. You held his hand looking at the way his veins showed . His fingers were thick and his hand were wide.
“You only ever speak to me when we have our tutoring sessions together” You said still staring at his hand. You massaged the skin before feeling his arms. His muscles felt tense and you could tell he was growing more and more nervous by the second.
“You are a really good tutor by the way” you smiled “Why don’t you ever talk to me? Aren't we friends?” you said pushing a loose strand of hair from his face. He opened his mouth to speak but before he could voice his thoughts you were already saying the words he couldn't bring himself to say.
“I make you nervous” you whispered. Your voice was sultry.
Choso couldn't help the lewd thoughts that crossed his mind. He wondered how sultry your voice would sound moaning his name. He let out a breathy laugh unable to form any reply. His skin felt warm all over. Your body is pressed so close to him he didn’t even realize. You’ve never been this close with him, not even during your tutor sessions. You typically sat across from him staring and chatting away instead of paying attention to his dull intellectual words. You were never one for boring lectures, he learned the quickly. You liked to joke, you were quick witted and you always gave him silly nicknames that he never really minded.
You stood quickly and Choso’s eyes followed your figure. You held your hand out to him with a delicate smile.
“Walk me to my dorm?”
This wasn’t something new. Choso had walked you to your dorm room countless times after a tutor session. He wiped his hands against his jeans in an attempt to wipe away the sweat before grabbing your hand. Choso’s cheeks never burned so much before. You held his hand pulling him closely behind you. His feet dragged closely behind you. He bit his lip wondering what he could say in this moment.
Say something
He took a deep breath.
“So how did you do on your test?”
What are you a professor? Why are you asking about school?
He regretted the words immediately.
“Is that really what you want to know right now?” you turned to him.
“No”
“Then ask me something you care about?”You teased
He couldn't think. He could barely even focus on how to walk. One foot in front of the other he thought, chanting the words over and over in his head.
“Why do you come to these parties?” he asked hesitantly.
“Hm” you said thinking “ For you I guess” Choso hesitated cocking his head to the side in confusion.
“What do you mean for me?”
“I come because you always seem to be at these parties, you come so often even though you stand in a corner looking like you hate everything” you said keeping a steady walking pace “I never really understood but I guess I do now. You’re just so intriguing” you continued.
Choso hung onto every word. His breathing was heavy as he leaned forward captivated by your voice.
“You find me intriguing?” he almost forgot everything you had just said focusing solely on that part.
“I do” you said stopping in your steps turning to him. His eyes stared down at you scanning over your body then to your lips.
“I find you so intriguing and I wish you would talk to me about more than just school.” you took a step towards him. Your hand glided up his arm to wrap around the back of his neck. You pulled him close to you. Your lips were inches apart. Choso’s eyes were filled with lust.
“I want to know so much about you” you pressed a kiss to his cheek “I want to know what drives you crazy” you pressed a kiss to his other cheek. You leaned back staring at his lips.
“I want to know what can I do to ease those nerves” your lips pressed against his for the first time and you felt chills run through your body. His arm wrapped around your waist pulling you in to deepen the kiss. Your lips moved in sync as if the two of you were meant for each other. It was messy but in the most perfect way. Choso could taste the liquor on your lips, it had never tasted so good. You pulled away and he followed wanting more of the taste of you.
“Come to my room” you whispered
Choso looked up not even realizing that the two of you were standing in front of your dorm. He wanted to go with you he swore it but he was so anxious he could barely move his feet.
“You’re drunk” he said.
“Sober enough to know what I'm doing though” you replied.
Quick witted as always
He didn’t realize how his feet followed you with barely any hesitation. He could feel his heartbeat growing stronger. The walk through the hall felt extraordinarily long. It’s so quiet he was positive this time you could hear how fast his heart was beating. You reached your dorm room and pulled him in. You led him through the apartment like room. His feet follow yours matching each step you took. Your room was nice, It smelled like you. You turned to him, slipping off your top. You stared at him watching the way his face turning a bright red. Your hands grab his leading them to your chest.
“You act like its your first time”
His eyes were wide. He tore his eyes away from you.
“I uh” he cleared his throat “I’m a virgin”
You smile holding his hands against your chest.
“I can teach you” you said. Your voice was soft and Choso couldn’t help but lean into you.
“T-teach me?” he stuttered
“Let me help those nerves, let me give you a lesson for once” you said emphasizing the 'you'. Your hands help Choso’s hands to massage your chest. Your eyes stare into his waiting for him to allow you to do as you pleased. He looked nervous scared almost as if he was afraid to have you in such an obscene way.
“I- are you sure” he asked in a shaky voice.
“Of Course. I want you Choso. Can I have you?” You were so close to him he could feel your breath fan across his skin. Choso closed his eyes silently praying this wasn't a dream but if it was he’d gladly entertain it.
“God you don’t understand how bad I want you”
His lips pressed against yours in an eager kiss. Heavy breathing filled the room. Your hands both scanned each others body leaving little to nothing untouched. His hands squeezed at your skin as he hungrily pressed his body against yours. The bulge in his pants began to grow. Your fingers danced against the hem of his pants.
“I’m gonna give you something special just for being so good for me Choso”
You got on your knees and unbuttoned his pants, eyes never leaving his nervous ones.
“It’s okay” your said breathlessly as you pulled his underwear down freeing his cock. “I’m gonna take real good care of you.”
You gave the tip of his cock a kiss before sliding his length into your mouth.
Choso was big. His cock was thick and long and almost impossible to take whole. You couldn’t believe he was keeping all of this to himself. Your head bobbed along his length slowly. You let out soft moans. The vibrations of your moans left Choso shaking. He rocked his hips into your mouth in a delicate motion as if afraid he’d hurt you. He slipped his shirt off tossing it to the side revealing his toned chest. His hand came up to his hair gripping the strands. He looked down watching the way your mouth stretched to take his cock. Drool pooled down the sides of your mouth. Choso couldn’t help but think of how pretty you looked taking his cock like this.
“F-fuck you’re gonna make me lose it” he whimpered.
You let out a small laugh as you released his cock from your mouth with a popping sound. Your hand stroked him while your tongue licked the tip causing him to shiver.
“If you cum in my mouth I promise I’ll let you make a mess in my pussy”
Choso’s eyes grew wide at your words. You took his length back in your mouth, bobbing your head in a slow teasing motion. His hands grabbed at your hair pulling gently. He stared down at you, jaw hanging slowing.
“I’m so sorry “ the words slipped past his mouth as his hips picked up speed rocking into your mouth. You let out gagging noises as his cock touched the back of your throat. Choso’s groans and whimpers began to fill the room. He couldn’t contain himself as he fucked himself into your mouth.
“I-I’m so fucking sorry Angel” he panted “You’re mouth is just so warm and good I can’t help myself.”
He let out desperate whines as he continued his abuse to your mouth. He threw his head back letting out a strained moan as his cum filled your mouth. He looked down at you eyes filled with desire and concentration as he watched his cum drool down the corner of your mouth. He pulled his cock out using it to wipe your lips. You licked the cum off his cock with a giggle. Choso didn’t even recognize his actions. He never thought he would be one to make a pretty girl lick the cum off his cock yet here he was shoving his cock back into your mouth just to make sure you swallowed all of it.
“You look so pretty”
You stood up and grabbed Choso by the back of his neck and pulled him in for a wet kiss. The kiss was messier than before. Your spit mixed with his as your tongue pushed against his. The two of you took off your remaining clothes before you pushed him down onto the bed. He sat watching you crawl into his lap with wide eyes.
“You’ll be a good boy for me and make my pussy nice and creamy for me right?” you moaned the words as you placed the tip of his cock at your entrance.
Choso almost went feral feeling you slid down onto his cock. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as your walls squeezed around him. This feeling was completely different from your mouth. It had him breathless without you even moving. His mouth hung open drooling gliding down to his chin. His hands found their way around you hips squeezing at your skin. You bounced your hips up and down in a slow pattern. Choso cursed to himself quietly noting that you liked to tease. He had never felt anything like this in his life. The way you felt gliding up and down on his cock. Your slick dripped down making a puddle around his core. He thought he might lose his mind. Your chest bounced up and down as you moved. Choso couldn't help but bring one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucked and nibbled at the bud causing you to moan. His hands wrapped around your body clawing at your skin.
“Please” he whimperd. He wasn't sure what he was begging for but it was the only word he could think of along with a string of curses. His hips bucked roughly up into yours meeting your movements. His hands moved to grip the fat of your ass squeezing harshly. His nails dug into your skin. Choso never thought he would be one to whimper and moan so much during his first time but the noises that slipped past his lips were euphoric to your ears.
“You’re- fuck” he could barely form a sentence as he was cut off from the pleasure of your gummy walls squeezing him so tight.
“You like that?” you asked.
Choso almost missed you words as he was so concentrated on shoving his cock upwards into you. Your hand squeezed his jaw forcing him to make eye contact with you. Tears brimmed his eyes. He had never felt so desperate and needy before in his life.
“I asked you a question pretty boy” you said as you threw your ass back onto his cock.
The sound of his balls slapping against your skin filled the room, yet somehow not overcome by the lewd sounds of Choso’s moans.
“You like the way my pussy feels sucking you in hm?” You whispered the words into his ear.
“Yes I-I love it so much” he choked out. “Pussy feels so good” he grunted
You let out a pleased hum at his words. You placed wet kisses down his neck that you’re sure will leave a mark.
“You’re mine now Choso” You whisper the velvety words into his ear.
Choso let out a whimper.
“Please” he whined “ Please let me cum”
You bounced up and down chasing after your own orgasm.
“I like it when you beg” the words dripped down your tongue “ cum for me baby”
Choso’s eyes saw stars as he came. His thrust were wild as he fucked you through his and your orgasm. His teeth clamped onto your shoulder as he lost control. He never felt something like this before, not even during his late night sessions of touching himself to the thought of you. Those short skirts you would wear to your tutor sessions or the way you would bend over to grab your pencil showing him the pretty panties you would wear always left him feeling insatiable. Never did he think that he’d have the chance to fuck you so sloppily, watching the way his cum dripped out of your hole onto his cock. He leaned his head back breathing heavily still holding your body against his chest.
“I- fuck - wow you’re amazing” he was at a loss for words.
“So were you tutor, how does it feel having pussy for the first time” you asked giving him a kiss on the cheek.
“Wow” was all he could manage to say. His eyes were dilated. You knew he was too fucked out of his mind to really speak.
“Let’s make this a regular thing, you tutor me in physics and i’ll tutor you in sexology” you giggle at the made up subject name “deal?”
Choso looks at you with doe eyes
“Deal.”
815 notes
·
View notes
Text
some unrelated trauma-themed cod headcanons because i just can't let these boys go:
-Soap loves to get absolutely blasted every once in a while. Ghost will have 1 drink but doesn’t like being inebriated. His dad was a drunk, and he's afraid of being the same, already feels like he’s turned into his dad too much as it is, being so accustomed to violence. Also, being inebriated and far from his body reminds him of the attempted brainwashing, so he can’t do it. Ghost doesn’t mind Soap being drunk though, cause hes a cutsey silly giggly drunk 99% of the time, and a sad sack crying drunk the other 1%. Either way, he gets to watch out for him.
-Ghost has complicated feelings about his mom. Most people think he must love and cherish her as some angel, since his dad was so bad, but in many ways she was complacent in his and his brothers abuse. Shes not the devil, but shes no angel either.
-Soap has complicated feelings about his on paper perfect childhood, which only get more complicated when he falls for Ghost. Middle class, big loving family, football and 4.0 and lots of friends. Never got bullied, never saw any kind of bad till he joined up. So how did he get here? Why is he so fucked in the head to be so good at killing, and warfare? He doens't know, and he wrestles with that a lot. In a world of men built by their trauma, Soap is a complicated outlier.
-Part of the reason Ghost likes the mask is because the feeling of it makes him secure and dampens sound just a little bit. Especially after his torture, he has a hard time with lots of sounds/crowds/conversations happening at once. The mask just turns the volume down just enough, muffles things just right. Even when he starts being more comftable going maskless with Johnny and the team, he still usually wears a beanie to cover his ears.
#cod mwii#soapghost#ghostsoap#cod mw2#ghoap#simon ghost riley#tf141#john soap mactavish#codmw2#mywriting#cod mw3#cod headcanons
431 notes
·
View notes
Text
GOOD LUCK, BABE! #2 ⋆ 정국
what happens when you leave everything behind, only to be faced with it again years later? eunbi is convinced she was given another shot at keeping all she ever wanted, but it’s difficult when that all is her childhood best friend who doesn’t want to do anything with her anymore. how to earn his trust back?
☾ pairing: non idol!jk x fem!oc
☾ genre: childhood friends to strangers, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, smut
☾ word count: 9k +
☾ warnings: alcohol consumption. explicit language. underage drinking. this whole thing is fluff vibes imo. like jk is just a little loser who misses his best friend. gureum debut! i love this dog so much he deserves his own one shot.
☾ author’s note: hello !!! i hope this chapter isnt too slow for u guys.. i like this pace tho! we r starting to get to know our ggukkie better. but we’ll get to eunbi too! oh also, theres little hints that help understanding the timeline of the whole story so 👩🏻💻 thank u for ur time!!
ps : dal = moon in korean; boreumdal = full moon in korean. it’ll be useful as you read hehe.. ok bye!
prev ㅣ index ㅣ next
two ⋆ ribs
The first time Jeongguk got drunk, it was with his best friend. At the age of 15, the number of coming-of-age movies he had consumed with her by his side was more than he could count on both his hands and feet, never having enough of getting lost in a world that seemed so entrancing yet far. Not only because his age wasn’t exactly the one depicted in those films, but mainly because Busan didn’t offer such scenarios. Jeongguk was continuously inspired by those, so much so that he’s confident when admitting it was exactly that genre which got him to take directing and film production not only as a silly dream, but as an ambition. No matter how crazy it sounded to everybody’s ears, he wanted to follow that path, because only then he could translate his wild and eager imagination into somewhat of a concrete, tangible reality.
Having Eunbi by his side was only a bonus. At the end of every movie, after impatiently but silently waiting for the credits to roll (she knew Jeongguk took those very seriously, almost as a ritual), she would vomit every single thought she had harboured regarding what she had just watched and Jeongguk felt seen. His same hunger was reflected in his best friend’s eyes, and words, and passionate gestures when yearning for those experiences. The only difference was that, if Jeongguk was content with only jotting down their endless brainstorming after a long session of movie watching for future ideas that he hoped he could bring to the big screen, Eunbi was longing to bring those to life.
”I really wanna get drunk,” she whined in the older boy’s ears while munching on some remaining snacks, attentively observing Jeongguk’s skilled hand doodling what looked like two people watching the sunset on a beach. With time, he got used to staying focused on whatever task he was leading even with the girl going on about whatever passed her mind, but this time he released a chuckle and let his pencil roll down the couch, shifting his attention to his sulky friend.
“Why would you want that?” He said with a curiously amused expression, entertained by the pout on the girl’s face while she took his sketchbook and delicately traced the beer bottles he had scribbled earlier.
10 Things I Hate About You had been the current topic of discussion, being the last of three movies they had watched that afternoon and the one that Eunbi liked more. She couldn’t stop geeking about how cool Kat was and how she wanted to be her when she grew up. Jeongguk thought her little moment of admiration was funny, and let her go about it, “Everybody says it’s bad for your health and bla, bla, then why would they make it look so exciting?”
For the first time since their five years of friendship, Jeongguk thought of himself as the more rational one of the pair. Even if older (by one year), he had always been a bit childish around her and seemed to need his best friend to scold him with her witty, book-obsessed vocabulary. Thus, saying he was surprised by Eunbi’s claims would be an understatement. It was like the roles had switched when he said, “Well, it’s fiction. It’s supposed to be exciting.”
In response, he got the same glare he would reserve for her anytime she would tell him off for his immature behaviour, with an addition of an eye roll and an even sulkier expression, emphasised by her crossed arms. The boy giggled at her disappointment and snatched his sketchbook back from her hands, retrieving the pencil from where it had been buried under the cushions so he could resume his earlier activity.
However, the sudden silence was unsettling. It gave him a moment to realise he had never really been surrounded by quiet when hanging out with his neighbour. The Converse-lover girl would always fill any empty space with words, thoughts, songs, even random sounds made with her mouth, or hands. He was not sure if he should be thankful for such unusuality or if he should search for hints that could be hidden behind her odd quietude.
He went for the latter, and he was proved right when he lifted his head from his drawing and found his friend torturing her lower lip with her front teeth, staring into the void with narrowed thinking eyes. When she noticed his gaze on her, she exchanged eye contact and, unable to hide it longer, a mischievous smirk made its way to her mouth. Jeongguk shook his head, “You’re not seriously considering-“
”I’m just saying!” Her talkative self was back, sitting cross-legged on the couch and fully facing Jeongguk, trying to get him to direct his whole attention to her, “Dancing on a table seems fun…”
Jeongguk scoffed, amused by the way this one movie seemed to have had a huge impact on Eunbi’s running imagination, which he was very familiar with but, as he was having this conversation, he doubted if there was more he needed to discover, “Do you realise Kat was about to fall-“
”And! Got saved by hot Heath Ledger. Twice!” Jeongguk was used to being interrupted, especially when the conversation was about one of the girl’s favourite topics. He didn’t know Heath Ledger was on that list, though. He frowned, “You think he’s hot?”
Her response was as simple as a Duh!, making the boy feel stupid for questioning what seemed to be an ultimate truth. He rolled his eyes and went back to doodling meaningless details that would complete the image that had been clouding his mind, only for his shoulder to be shaken by a whiny Eunbi, “That was not the point. I’m telling you I wanna drink alcohol.”
Jeongguk snorted, taken aback by the unexpected outburst of confidence, then widened his already big eyes at her, signalling to quiet down, “My mom is literally in the next room.” That only got the daring girl to shrug her shoulders, eyebrows raised, and expecting an answer to her admission.
The older one sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed and contemplating. His meditation was interrupted by his determined friend rocking his body back and forth by the sleeve of his t-shirt, in hopes of getting what she wanted. She wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but figured Jeongguk could find a solution for her. Said boy tried to get the constant pulling to stop, only when it wouldn’t he could only lightly push the younger one away, knowing it would cause a huge reaction. And not even three seconds after, she laid down and acted as if her arm was broken, and her whole body severely injured, faking cries and whines. Jeongguk laughed, “What do you want me to do? Where would I even get it?”
It’s like she was waiting for that exact question, because the moment it was asked her acting immediately came to an end, as she lifted her body up again and sat straight on her heels, “Your dad has a whole collection of random bottles. He won’t notice if one is missing.” The quick response sounded strangely rehearsed, and Jeongguk furrowed his brows.
A smile danced on his lips at seeing his best friend trying not to break too and instead maintain a serious composure, wanting to make her intentions clear and unmoved. Jeongguk was surprised at her sudden resolution, figuring it must not have been so sudden after all, ”How long were you keeping this inside?”
”Literally forever,” she eventually broke, releasing a long breath, her body bending down with it but then regaining its straight posture, resuming her Convincing-BFF-To-Get-Drunk plan, “Movie was the last straw. Please Ggukkie?” She mustered her best puppy eyes and Jeongguk narrowed his, unbelieving of all the tactics she was using to get to her goal.
”No.” He strangely managed to sound firm, despite Eunbi insisting and now deepening her pout, making it hard for the boy to deny her request, “Dad will kill me.”
”I’m sure he won’t notice,” the way she was talking made it sound like she knew exactly what needed to be done, as if she was explaining something as obvious as Heath Ledger being hot. The look in her best friend’s eyes, however, let her know he wasn’t fully on her side yet, so she came up with something unexpected even to herself, as proved by her dubious expression after uttering out, “I will also steal a few beers from mom.”
Jeongguk fully broke out laughing then, nose scrunching and eyes squeezing, hand over his belly while muttering something close to You’re insane, and that went on for a minute, the reaction carrying at seeing his neighbour being as serious as ever, not even hinting a smile (even if she was doing her best to suppress it).
When the chuckles eventually came to an end, the brown-haired boy shook his head and went back to his drawing, leaving the girl incredulous at being ignored like that by who she thought would always be her Number One Supporter. She gasped, mouth hanging. Jeongguk smirked amusedly, seeing her through his peripheral vision, “What?”
The younger one whined and fussed on the couch, impatient with Jeongguk being seemingly impossible to convince but stubborn with wanting to make him agree. When not even her begging worked, going ignored as everything else she was doing, she sat silently just following Jeongguk’s hand on the paper. The boy thought it was over, until Eunbi let her mind speak again, this time more spontaneously, “You know, this thing you’re drawing, it could be reality. Not just film reality, I’m talking about us two drunk on the Busan beach, enjoying everything it has to offer. Can you really resist it?”
Eyebrows wiggling and a mischievous smile on her face, Jeongguk knew he was being difficult just because, the idea of getting drunk with his best friend had sounded inviting right from the start. Little by little, he was breaking, still hesitating when he admitted, ”Busan beach doesn’t sound that exciting but… Yeah, that would be pretty cool.”
At that, the girl’s eyes went sparkling, hopeful of finally winning her battle, ”That would be suuuper cool! C’mon, Ggukkie.”
Her hands were back on his shoulder, shaking him with less vigour this time but still making the boy giggle, “How would that even work-“
”We sneak out.” Once again, her rapid reply sounded so sure, it almost scared Jeongguk. He wanted to laugh again, but something in the girl’s expression made him hold back, slowly being persuaded by her convincing tactics, “I got everything planned. Let’s put the movie brainstorming aside and keep the get-drunk plan brainstorming going and I’ll tell you exactly how we’ll move through it.”
Jeongguk hesitated. The light in her eyes made him put the doubts to the side, ”Alright.”
That same night, they put the plan into action. It wasn’t too thought-out, but Eunbi had a way with words that made anything sound magical and captivating, just as those directors Jeongguk admired could depict their young age in a way too fascinating vision. They had decided to sneak out of their windows at 1 a.m., and before that, they would get their hands on what they had agreed and figured would get them drunk enough: whatever hard liquor attracted the boy more out of his dad’s collection, and two beer bottles from Eunbi’s fridge.
Both of them were clumsy with their actions. If they had to complete this initial part being together, the whole plan would have failed with how much one would have laughed at the other, and vice versa. Jeongguk made the bottle clink with another, while his best friend in the house next to his closed the fridge too hard, causing uncalled-for noise. The sounds were amplified by the quiet of the night, making the youngsters awkwardly stand still for a second, terror-stricken in hopes they wouldn’t get caught. What followed after was hastily placing the contents in their backpack and waiting some more by their window, ensuring no odd movement was heard from their parents’ room. When everything seemed under control, they nimbly climbed out, landing on their feet.
The first to appear outside was the younger one. With every fast and speedy beat of her heart, she felt it coming up her throat. All her senses were ten times stronger at that moment, and she could feel a jittery sensation travel through her whole body, running in her veins and seemingly unstoppable. She tried to, by harshly biting her lip and clasping a hand over her chest. Where the heck was Jeongguk? And why was she so cold? She wished telepathy existed, as she hoped with all her might that her friend had brought a jacket she could steal.
When a minute passed and there was no sight of the older boy, she felt utterly betrayed, and tried to come up with any excuse that could justify Jeongguk’s delay: there were none. If she could make noises she would whine, both the cold and the wait being unbearable.
Jeongguk appeared seconds later, looking like a deer caught in headlights as his feet landed on the ground with a stomping sound. Eunbi couldn’t help the snort escaping her mouth, quickly clasping a hand over it while the boy made his way to her with big eyes and his pointer finger laying over his lips, demanding absolute silence.
The two didn’t utter a single word until they were at a safe distance from their houses, and when they looked back and noticed how those were becoming smaller with each step they took, the smiles on their faces grew bigger. The girl in her Converses giggled and incredulously shook his friend’s arm, “What. The. Heck. We did it!”
Jeongguk let a nervous chuckle escape his lips, sharing that same excitement mixed with tension that he could feel oozing from his best friend, now hanging from his arm, “We did it. Now, where do we go from here?”
“Trust me, Gguk. I told you I know my way,” once again, the younger one managed to sound convincing enough, and Jeongguk let himself put his whole trust in her, too agitated to argue. However, Eunbi expertly noticed the unusual edginess in her friend’s nodding and lost gaze, so using the time it took to get to the beach through the route she knew best, she let out every single thought that passed her mind. Just as the dynamic between them was often like, but this time it served as a way to distract Jeongguk; and it did. The boy chuckled there and then at various comments, adding to them too. He laughed loudly when Eunbi admitted she brought some strawberries and water, just in case, and called her a dumbass. They then proceeded to have a meaningless argument about it, all while he took note of how the girl’s skin seemed to prickle with the soft wind, and laid his hoodie on her shoulders. They had a subtle way of caring about each other, which nonetheless never went unnoticed, but still not really mentioned.
1 a.m. was dark, darker than they’d ever witnessed, and if it wasn’t for the tall buildings behind them, the beach would have been completely surrounded by obscurity. The closer they got to the sea, the more the moon also helped reduce such blackness, with its light reflecting in the water. The pair sat down on the sand, picking the spot they had claimed as theirs during one of their many beach days on the hottest days of summer. There wasn’t much talking now, both of them eager to start the final and main part of the plan, but none of the two brave enough to break the seal.
Eunbi wrapped herself around Jeongguk’s hoodie, her knees to her chest and her chin to her knees, observing the boy sitting by her side with a playful smile dancing on her lips. Her nose scrunched tenderly when he reciprocated it, and her voice was suddenly small, “You want a strawberry?”
”You dragged me all the way over here to eat strawberries?” He chuckled at the girl’s out-of-character embarrassment and lightly shoved her shoulder, getting a lively giggle out of her. She shrugged, putting up her best innocent act, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Jeongguk didn’t say anything while he unzipped his backpack and took the main character of the night out, a bottle of Absolut Vodka, the one that had scared the boy less out of the whole collection, its liquid clear like water and seemingly free from danger. Who knows, maybe it also tastes like water.
He was proved wrong not much later, when he brought his mouth to the rim and gulped the first sip, its burning taste firing up his throat, then extending to his chest and finding home in his stomach. Jeongguk emitted a loud groan, eyes squeezing shut with the force of the foreign feeling, and distanced himself from the bottle to cough. The younger one had watched the whole scene with big eyes, unconsciously following every movement of his with her head, attentively studying his reaction and then laughing at his disgusted expression. She stole the bottle from his hands and repeated the same actions.
Unexpectedly, she accepted the sensation much better than the older one, only shaking her head fast in hopes the liquid would go down rapidly, and then taking another huge gulp right after. Jeongguk snatched the bottle from her hold to clasp it to his chest, his brows furrowed, “Woah, slow down there.”
”If I focus on how shit it tastes, I will never get drunk. Let me finish it,” her eagerness triggered Jeongguk’s competitive side, bringing him to swallow down a bigger amount than he had seen her sip, gulping loudly and then standing still, as if to prove a point. See? It doesn’t affect me either, that’s what his eyes were screaming. Of course, Eunbi didn’t back out, a silent race starting between the two the moment she claimed the bottle again and looked him right in the eyes while drinking. Jeongguk laughed too loudly, but he couldn’t control it, “That’s how it is?”
In between sneers and roasts, the competition went on until Eunbi announced her whole world was spinning, and the liquid covered a little less than half of the bottle. Jeongguk felt irrational contentment brimming his mind, making his body feel light yet still shaken by adrenaline. Unlike his friend, he could at least form coherent sentences, though. He had regulated the amount of alcohol he was ingesting, so that he could ensure one of them could still lucidly operate in case anything happened. He had also pulled the bottle away from Eunbi’s mouth multiple times whenever she would overdo the quantity she was drinking, but he figured it still affected her way more than it did him.
Indeed, a whole 10 minutes had passed of her munching on those strawberries she just had to take with her while walking in circles around Jeongguk’s sitting figure. Before going on that ritual-like path, she had also tried one of the two canned beers, and the littlest sip of it had made her declare it as the worst beverage on earth. Jeongguk didn’t mind it, surely liked it more than the clear vodka, but made sure to empty the opened can and hide the other in his backpack, in case his very tipsy friend wanted to try some more.
From his sitting position, he looked at her grinning when she would share bitten pieces of the red fruit with him, while still keeping up the constant walking and the random babbling. In the midst of it, she would also laugh to herself, and then resume her muttering, making the boy laugh as well with no exact knowledge of what she was saying. He just went along with it, didn’t get what was so funny but figured he was too tipsy to entertain meaningful conversation.
As he kept observing her, he saw her look up at the sky, the movement too fast for her spinny head, “Ouch.” She squeezed her eyes shut and quickly reopened them, only to be welcomed by black patches appearing and disappearing from her vision. Then, the starry sky is what she saw; the moon was next. She laughed at that too, spinning around a few times with her arms wide open.
Jeongguk does find a reason to laugh along with her now, his friend acting too silly his heart feels content just watching her, ”You look so dumb. What are you even doing?”
Giggles are her first response, followed by her suddenly sitting down on the sand, on the spot next to him. Jeongguk noticed some of the strawberry juice had dripped down her chin, so he cleaned it carefully with his thumb until there was none. She hiccuped, “Gguk, I think- I think I love the moon.” The sudden admission was out of context, but he accepted it. A little over an hour had gone by at that point, but once again she assumed the position she was in when they first arrived, knees to her chest and chin to her knees, with that same soft smile directed at him, only with sleepier eyes.
With the hand that was already close to her face, the older one moved some of the locks that were blocking her vision, then gently placed them behind her ear. He melted at the pleased expression on her face, her eyes gently closing. Jeongguk had always felt a sense of protection in her regards, just like a brother would to her sister. He wasn’t much older than her, but he still felt like he needed to be someone Eunbi could lean on and look up to. He followed along, nodding, “Yeah? You do look like the moon.” The tender moment seemed to have been interrupted by his comment. Her soft smile was replaced by a frown. Huh? Did he say something wrong?
With Jeongguk seated next to her, she turned to fully face him (the fast movement probably causing her head to hurt again) and furrowed her brows, “You do realise that’s not a compliment,” the same confused expression was now mirrored on her friend’s face, so she kept explaining, “You’re saying my face is round and puffy.”
The boy sitting cross-legged also fussed so he could be directly in front of her, facing the tipsy girl when he smirked, “Your face is round and puffy, Bee.” The grin turned into a full laugh when she hit his shoulder with a stronger force than usual, making him stumble. At that, she shoved him again, intent on making him fall on his back.
”What the hell? No, it’s not.” When she realised how weak alcohol was making her, she backed down from her mission and instead sat on her heels and crossed her arms, annoyed by the stupid smile on his face. She narrowed her eyes, “If anything, you look like a coconut. Fuck you.”
The boy feigned his shock, the act quickly being revealed by his uncontrollable giggles. The alcohol was getting her way sassier, and she was already too mouthy for his liking. Still, he was never intimidated by that, instead living off these moments just to make fun of her and wind her up further, “Should I call you Dal? My little Boreumdal?” His sickeningly sweet mocking voice was aggravated by his tickling under her armpit. She swatted him, “You’re being disgusting. I’ll throw up everything I drank on you.”
”I dare you Dal,” he wiggled his eyebrows and shortly after he figured that was the last teasing comment he could allow himself to throw at her before being pushed fully to the ground this time and receiving harmless punches on his stomach, which made him burst into lively laughter. The sand was getting in his hair and all over his clothes, but he didn’t care, his only goal being winning the nth fight between them, “Ouch, Dal stop-“
“Don’t call me that!” She was fully screaming at him now, her vodka breath fanning over his face while she kept tossing him on the sand, giggling along, “Stupid coconut.” Between laughs and jabs she didn’t realise how close they got, Jeongguk also working his way to free himself from his spot on the ground, resulting in her determined attitude trying to block him by sitting on his stomach and pushing his shoulders down.
However, when she felt his hands on her wrists, the contact triggered sudden awareness in her mind, registering the compromising position they were in, her whole face changing colour. With her movements being haltered, Jeongguk also seemed to notice the quick change in her expression. After a moment of silence, of her staring big-eyed in his starry eyes, a tipsy 15 year old Jeongguk could only come up with, “This is the first time I’m seeing a red moon.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
It’s the echo of her voice, yelling Shut up! in his face that startles him awake. When he takes in his surroundings, he relaxes in the bed again. Jeongguk was right when he predicted how hard the simple act of falling asleep would have been, following being so close to the cause of his nightmares after years. He checks the time displayed on his phone, 6:08 a.m. His alarm isn’t set to go off for another hour. Sighing, he’s aware trying to get some more sleep after it had failed to find him would have been useless, reason why he goes on a staring contest with the ceiling.
It becomes a canva for his running mind, which projects the last image that he saw behind his closed eyelids: Eunbi’s face being centimetres to his, her head crowned by a shining white full moon. He’s unconscious of the smile creeping up on his mouth, but when he feels its sides twitch it turns into a deep frown. He hates his own brain for doing this to him, but is also aware the girl coming back so strong and unexpected in his life played a huge role.
It’s not like he was ever confident with the possibility of fully forgetting about her. How does one forget about the moon? But he could still say he had done a great job at keeping her locked in one dark room in the back of his mind; until not more than three months ago, when she showed up beside Dahye, her big smile greeting the rest of the group, but breaking in pieces when she spotted him. Had it been such a disgrace for her?
Jeongguk can’t blame her if she felt like that, because after an initial, very brief moment of surprise, excitement and sparks, he was surrounded by doom. It had been gruelling battling against the kid inside him, probably confused as to why his first instinct wasn’t to hug his Dal. It’s as if that version of him got stuck right in the place he was left, and when he saw her again he wished to pick up from where they had stopped, never having gotten closure. Last night would be an example: the urge to keep an eye out for her, care for her safety. It’s like telling a child Santa Claus isn’t real, and watching his world break. But Jeongguk needed the kid in him to be faced with the truth badly, before a light gets switched on in that dark room of his brain he keeps her in, and next thing he knows she finds the key to open it and escape.
That truth being the fact that everything changes, and people do too. Although, compared to the first time he saw her drunk, he wouldn’t say there were any changes: she would still mutter incoherent nonsense under her breath, and laugh for no apparent reason. And it had the same effect on him, pure amusement and adoration. But this time, he couldn’t let himself indulge in it.
Jeongguk can’t stand his brain being manipulated so easily by his heart, and rather having to sit helpless while witnessing such conflict, he figures he can start his day ahead and get up from his bed. What awaits him is a train journey to Busan in exactly two hours. With summer break starting, he had concluded he could use the most of it to be with his parents, starting by the weekend ahead. He’s fairly excited to be in his hometown again after months, and with the way his mind has been taking him back in time through the memories, he finds it funny how he used to depreciate Busan and fantasise about Seoul, when right now he would do anything to not be surrounded by the capital’s chaos. You truly never know what you have until it’s gone.
Jimin, being also from Busan, had offered to drive him there and go with him, but Jeongguk refused. He’s aware his best friend was just being nice, a leading characteristic of his nature, since he also knows Jimin doesn’t really enjoy being back in his city, and tries to stay away from it as much as he possibly can. The blonde had opened up once to his flatmate, admitting how home wasn’t really that for him. Seoul was his one and only occasion to escape it; he loved it here, and had finally built what felt closest to a home. The fact that Jeongguk is part of it makes his heart swell with joy.
He’s as quiet as ever while he packs the last things in his backpack and exits the flat, making sure the door isn’t shut too loud so as not to wake Jimin, who’s probably going to suffer from the worst hangover as soon as he opens his eyes. Still, the brown haired boy now wearing a baseball hat over his head shoots his friend a text to let him know he’s left the house. A cheeky Don't miss me too much :p is sent after that.
Considering he still has a significant amount of time left before the train leaves (more than he had deduced yesterday, when he had set his alarm at 5 a.m. for 7 a.m. and had gotten even less sleep than that) he picks walking to the station over taking the bus, in fear if he sits anywhere he will fall into deep slumber due to his single hour of sleep and fuck up his whole getaway plan. The walk contributes to waking his senses and shaking off the weariness, his mind finding it especially hard after the previous hours spent in the small suffocating club, swimming in the smell of alcohol and weed, and being surrounded by blasting music.
When he gets to his destination, there’s still 30 minutes left before the train arrives. He sighs while he sits on a bench by the platform, and waits. Two cigarettes later, he figures there’s nothing else he can do but put his earphones to use and play the first album in his recently played. When not even Twenty One Pilots’ Vessel can avert his eyes from batting until they’re slowly closing, Jeongguk forces himself into a staring contest with the nothingness, in hopes the illusion of having to win a fight keeps him awake. Until even then his vision starts to unfocus, and in his zoned out state he feels like passing out on that same bench.
His phone is his last resort, mindless scrolling on social media apparently the only activity capable of avoiding his mind from completely shutting down. When he gets to Instagram, rather than checking the new posts on his feed, he clicks on Dahye’s story popping up as the first one of the list. Stories are a fairly new feature to the app, but he soon came to learn how much his friend loved it, documenting every piece of her life through them. What he didn’t expect, and surely didn’t need, was her recent updates to be a rundown of Eunbi’s recovery from her drunken state last night: firstly, a close up of her baby face, with cheeks covered by smudged mascara and what looked like tears, and a pout so pronounced with furrowed eyebrows; soon after, a sneaky shot of the girl completely bent over the toilet, almost hugging it, Dahye captioning it with her new BFF!; then, an hour later, Eunbi peacefully sleeping surrounded by all sorts of pillows and plushies. Dahye ended the small series with a short apology to her roommate, adding i love u @song_eunbee hehe.
When he realises the unconscious, dumb, stupid, smile on his face, he jerks his head up and shuts his phone, violently shoving it in his sweatpants pocket. Blinking a few times, he also notices how he quite literally almost missed the train, only then registering it had stopped in front of him and was ready to depart again. Jeongguk quickly gathers his stuff and makes his way onto the train, searching for any seat that is close to a window overlooking the outside. He thinks if he can focus on the view for the rest of the ride, he’d be able to shut off the urge to go on a three hour Instagram spiral. He knows he’s so wrong when not even two minutes in, he physically can’t stop his hands from retrieving his phone and looking up song_eunbee on the app’s search bar.
He’s relieved when he clicks on the first account that pops up and finds out it’s not private. In her profile picture her face is half covered by her hand, but the dimple adorning her cheeks doesn’t hide the fact that she’s smiling. He’s welcomed by quite a few posts, varying from landscapes, friends, family, baby photos, random kittens on the streets, club nights, and some selfies. He learns she’s pretty big on Ariana Grande and that she still loves the moon, as confirmed by the crescent moon emoji being the only thing in her bio. He can’t help but foolishly wonder if looking at it at night makes her even subconsciously think of him, and the fact that he kept calling her that nickname even after her protests. A handful of the pictures on her feed portray the moon too, and one of them is captioned with Kat Stratford’s unmistakeable monologue: but mostly i hate the way i don’t hate you; not even close; not even a little bit; not even at all.
Jeongguk was right when he predicted he would be a victim of an Instagram spiral, because for the next hour he studies her posts more attentively, the people she tagged, the people in her comments, the places she visited, the quotes in her captions. He is so consumed by curiosity, and maybe something more (awfully close to envy, anger and misery) that he doesn’t even notice the sleepiness completely dissipating from his body, his mind now running to connect every single pin on the imaginary board his own brain had offered for him to better analyse her account.
Until, after being extremely careful for the entire endless minutes spent on her profile, he accidentally clicks on her story and before he can react, he’s left to stare at the picture until the 15 seconds finish. He blinks. Keeps his eyes shut for a few seconds. Reopens them. Clicks on the story again. Only one side of her face is showing, and beside it it’s her middle finger, on top of it FUCK YOU @dahye.lee96 !!!!!
He shuts off his phone and puts it on his lap, squeezing it in his hand from time to time. He takes deep breaths every one minute. Considers deleting his account, or his whole existence. He doesn’t know what to do with himself now, his eyes closing but not with the intent to sleep. He’s trying to block his flow of thoughts, unsuccessfully.
The incident haunts him for the rest of the trip, causing him to check his phone constantly and contemplating flushing it down the train’s toilet. Only when he sets foot in Busan’s station he’s able to distract himself from it. He sports a boyish smile when he sees his parents’ car parked outside, and bashfully lets himself be coddled by his mom’s praises and his dad’s content grin before driving away. He’s almost 21, most people his age feel too grown for this type of affection, but he will never deny it. That’s enough for him to stop worrying about his earlier slip. It’s still in the back of his mind, though.
Opening the door to his childhood home, he’s greeted by a fawning Gureum, his tail wagging so hard his whole body moves with it. The white Maltese has been the family dog for almost six years now, and giving him a new life after rescuing him from a shelter had cured Jeongguk’s loneliness and heartbreak; he hopes it did the same to the dog. He blocks out all kinds of noises and questions from his mom while he spends the first ten minutes in his house entertaining Gureum’s zoomies, using a sickeningly sweet tone that is only reserved for the small pet. To the point Gureum almost looks like he’s had enough of being called a good boy, feels like he can confidently reply to who’s the best boy ever? with the correct answer. Me! He just barks.
After settling his stuff and catching up with his parents on university and life in Seoul (he doesn’t mention that Eunbi is a new entry in his friend group, yet) he spends the whole morning in between naps, sleepiness eventually catching onto him. He dozes off after lunch, his tummy full and content with his mom’s cooking, which he had dearly missed, and ends up sleeping for more than intended. Next thing he knows, it’s 5 p.m. and it takes him some time to readjust to the reality surrounding him. He drags his feet to the kitchen to retrieve a snack, only to sit again, this time on the couch, Gureum finding home on his lap. The sleepyhead is close to spacing out again while munching on some Peperos, until his dad asks for help, his voice coming from upstairs.
Jeongguk finds out his most recent obsession has been decluttering, and that’s what he was called over for. His dad had collected old stuff that belonged to Jeongguk in two boxes with the intention of getting rid of it, but he still wanted to make sure there was nothing his son still needed, or valued. The boy is glad for such consideration the moment he spots his old Samsung camcorder in between worn plushies and damaged toy cars. He can’t imagine what would have happened if he wasn’t there; he figures the camera would have probably got thrown away, with his dad’s eagerness. He gets sensitive over it, entertaining a small argument with his father about it and forgetting the task he was supposed to complete, instead returning to his room to check on the camera’s contents.
Leaving the door ajar, he can still hear his dad’s faint voice calling for him and asking for truce, and even if Jeongguk’s little fit of anger is already over, he is too enthralled by the device to acknowledge any other sound around him. It had been a while since he last picked it up, not only because ever since he started university the boy had managed to afford better equipment for his short films and casual moments of inspiration, but also because what is stored in there could potentially break the thin line of sanity he has been walking on for the past weeks.
The first videos he’s met with make him chuckle, his big 10 years old eyes reflecting in his equally wide 20 years old ones, still sharing that same love for filming and blabbering on about his passions and ideas. With time, the contents captured by the camcorder changed, from video diaries of family trips and shared meals, to dramatic storytellings starring any toy that could be put to use. He can see the exact moment he began developing a bigger interest for directing, and his various attempts at finding new original shots and angles put a sweet smile on his lips.
Until, one particular clip marked an important switch, and the introduction of who soon after became the main subject for the rest of the images filmed on the device. From the moment she met him, Eunbi had been a constant presence anytime he would hit record on the camera. Their very first encounter is documented by it, when Jeongguk had forgotten to stop the recording, too startled by the sudden changes occuring right in front of his eyes; nevertheless, it resulted in a pure, authentic fragment that he’d never been able to replicate. There is no way to, the earliest smile she directed at him was captured by those lenses, and that started everything which followed.
He can spot the point in which they eventually got tired of making up stories to play out through their toys, even with the addition of Eunbi’s impressive Barbie collection. They also tried replacing the dolls with their own selves, but changing outfits and makeup for every single clip was only fun for a short while. Four episodes later, the both of them left the telenovela they had started taping unattended, and looked for a new reality to portray, even if it was always only for their own eyes and enjoyment.
Jeongguk was searching for something more simple than cliffhangers and plots. He now remembers how even his little self would always go back to that initial scene that saw them together for the first time, Eunbi’s small voice greeting the camera with the sun beginning to set behind her. He wanted his shots to be characterised by that same unadulterated, filtered feeling.
That is most probably what led him to start a documentary about their friendship, just what he had said behind the lenses while his best friend tilted her head to the side, sporting a confused look on her features, unaware of Jeongguk zooming in and out on her face (which probably got Eunbi to yell at the top of her lungs later on), “Was I unaware of you being a National Geographic reporter?”
“Are you calling yourself a beast?” Jeongguk could be heard chuckling in the microphone at Eunbi’s incredulous reaction. That was how it would always go between them, a constant back and forth to battle on who had the last word in. The girl just scoffed, clearly scrambling to find a quick reply, but only managing to roll her eyes with crossed arms and muttering something close to says you. It seemed the older one was ahead, for now.
Jeongguk grins at everything that follows next, and he tells himself it’s because he’s amused by his younger self’s manners, but it’s not like those were the main subject of his shots. He quickly comes to terms with the fact that if he wants to keep scrolling through the videos, he’d have to be constantly faced with Eunbi; there is really no way of escaping it. Jeongguk had underestimated the amount of clips portraying her, to the point the idea of a documentary seemed more like an excuse to film his friend. Make her his first muse. It was Eunbi playing, doing her hair, secretly trying on her mom’s clothes, blowing candles on her birthday cakes, revising for tests, baking Christmas cookies, coming up with friendship jingles; and everytime, she seemed so natural, as if being in front of a camera was all she was ever created for. She insisted she always wanted to be a teacher, though. He wonders if that changed.
He doesn’t know how much time he spends crouching on his desk with the recorder in his hands, but he knows it has to be hours when he gets to a close up of Eunbi’s face, her sleepy eyes and sheepish smile immediately taking him back to the night that infested his dreams hours earlier in his bed, his assumption being confirmed when he can see the sand extending behind her figure. At that point, he figures the relatively small amount of alcohol they had drank had already dissipated from their bodies, only leaving them feeling hazy, but in a good way. The wind makes it hard to decipher their slurry dialogue, and he misses the reason why Eunbi suddenly stole the camera and pointed the lenses at him. It makes him realise how little he showed himself in front of those. His timid smile probably gives out why: contrary to his friend, he wasn’t a natural. Still isn’t. He works better behind them.
He rewinds the clip a few times, curious as to what they were talking about. He can faintly hear Eunbi mention how that scenario looked so much like the drawing Jeongguk was working on that same afternoon. He doesn’t remember what it was, wishes he still had it. Then, the girl balanced the camcorder on the half empty bottle of vodka and stood, struggling to bring the older boy up with her. Now next to each other, Eunbi looked like she was instructing Jeongguk how to pose, and he figures she was trying to recreate that same doodle. She laughed hard when the boy shoved her, visibly annoyed with being moved around, more so with the girl seemingly repeating something again and again in his face. Her voice got louder, but the recording couldn’t quite catch it. From her lip movement, it looked like she was saying Put this in your movie! Put this in your movie! Jeongguk giggles. Was he already working on something? He wishes he could return to that moment to know, and maybe stay there for some more just because.
The boy is startled by sudden soft knocks on his door, jerking his head up and placing the camera on the desk, his hands sweaty from holding it for such an endless amount of time. He hums, signalling to come in, and he smiles when it’s his dad timidly peeking out and lifting his brows expectantly. Jeongguk giggles, “Dad, I forgive you.”
The older man sighs with way too much energy, exaggerating his relief and then coming to his son’s side. He smiles, ruffling his hair, “Are you hiding a girlfriend from us? This thing keeps going off,” handing him his phone, he cackles when he sees Jeongguk’s panicked expression. He must have left it on the couch earlier. And what does his dad mean with “girlfriend”? Phone going off? Does this have to do with him viewing Eunbi’s story? Is she publicly shaming h-
“Anyways. Dinner is almost ready, Gguk.” His dad pats the still alarmed boy’s shoulder and exits the room. As soon as Jeongguk hears the door close, he dashes himself on the phone and unlocks it. It keeps pinging with texts from his friends’ group chat, but there’s no new notification from Instagram. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding, but his relief is short lived when he comes up with another thought: was he that irrelevant to Eunbi? She didn’t even think of requesting his account? He frowns.
His initial idea was to quickly scroll over the messages as to join his family downstairs, positive it was probably just going to be either Seokjin sharing awful unfunny memes or Hoseok updating the group on the next possible catastrophe looming over human beings. He furrows his brows when, instead, he’s met with the whole group chat coming at Jimin, for no apparent reason, after his own name was mentioned.
Jiminssi, 7:48 p.m.
heeeyyy so…. ggukkie’s bday is very soon guys
Dahye, 7:50 p.m.
jimin.
Yoongi hyung, 7:50 p.m.
Park Jimin.
It’s in two weeks
Jiminssi, 7:51 p.m.
what
im just saying
its gonna be exciting!
Dahye, 7:51 p.m.
shut your mouth rn.
Joon hyung, 7:52 p.m.
Bro I thought I could trust u w this
Jeongguk is even more confused when, as he goes on reading, his friends keep brutally bullying Jimin, going as far as threatening to ban him from the next club nights out that he himself had planned. He chuckles at his friend’s misery, but soon remembers he is somewhat involved in it. He pouts, angrily typing.
Jeongguk, 7:58 p.m.
What is this about
Hobi hyung, 7:59 p.m.
baby it’s nothing
Jeongguk, 7:59 p.m.
???
Its not nothing
I wanna know
Like the baby he truly is, he keeps spamming the chat with messages to make himself noticed, until he sees Jimin’s texting bubble going on and off.
Jeongguk, 8:01 p.m.
My dear jimin what is it
I know you wanna tell me 🌀🌀🌀
Jiminssi, 8:02 p.m.
WE R GOING CAMPING FOR UR BIRTHDAY!!!!!!
The next thing displayed on his phone is an incoming group videocall from Namjoon, but Jeongguk remains still staring at himself on the screen for more seconds than necessary, registering the sequence of events that had just occurred. Camping? His birthday?
He slides to answer the call, and he giggles at the imminent chaos he’s welcomed with, all his friends throwing shade at Jimin while he just laughs along with his roommate. As all the members keep joining, he still doesn’t notice a certain someone missing.
”Was this supposed to be a surprise?” Jeongguk finds it hard to stop his laughter, both because of Jimin’s incapability at keeping secrets, but also — and mainly — because of the excitement he feels at the news just revealed to him.
”Well, duh. Jimin just had to ruin it,” It’s Dahye who replies, and Jeongguk can see the indignation on her features even in the little pixelated box she’s now displayed in. She then proceeds to entertain an argument about it with the boy she mentioned, and as everyone just listens and tries to excuse Jimin’s reasoning, Jeongguk searches for Taehyung on the screen. When he finds his eyes, he’s already wiggling his brows and the younger boy silently chuckles, mirroring his actions. It’s been a couple months since the two of them started suspecting something going on between Jimin and Dahye, even with the former always denying it. What is undeniable is the tension between them, though. It is showing right at that moment.
Jeongguk decided to intervene, having to raise the volume of his voice to be heard over the soon to be (in his and Taehyung’s opinion) lovebirds, “Guys, guys. I’m not mad. This is amazing. Thank you, really. Are we the only ones going?”
He questions just because in the last period they were often times joined by Seokjin’s girlfriend, as well as a couple of Dahye’s friends, and he genuinely enjoys their company, would be totally okay with them being present to celebrate his birthday. Seokjin himself speaks, “Sora is coming, and I think Iseul and Aera are also gonna be there. Oh, and of course-“
”Guys!” His phone tings, signalling a new person joining the videocall. It’s Eunbi. Oh. He almost didn’t consider the fact that she is most probably going to be invited too. Well, obviously. From what her camera is showing it looks like she’s outside, more specifically waiting at a bus stop, headphones on, “Sorry, I just saw the texts. Jimin, why the fuck would you do that?”
As the topic of the conversation moves once again on Jimin being awful at secrets, Jeongguk dissociates for a minute, no longer giggling along. He realises this would be the first birthday of his he shares with her by his side after years. He’s not sure how he feels about it. Can only sense a nervous sensation travelling his body, and making him feel uneasy. His furrowed brows and sudden silence don’t go unnoticed by Jimin, while on the other side Jeongguk surely doesn’t seem aware of his internal battle showing on the outside. He can’t let one person ruin his own birthday. He just has to ignore her. How hard can that be?
When he returns to the reality surrounding him again, he absent-mindedly listens to the others talk and can only distractedly pick up that the attention has been shifted to a complely different matter, Eunbi seemingly finding it funny assuming from her loud pearly smile. He frowns, his confidence wavering. It doesn’t look like it’s going to be easy to ignore her. Still, not wanting to dwell too much on it at that moment, leaving it for his future self to worry about, he leaves the call not before thanking his friends again. He misses Eunbi’s fond smile as the others shower their baby with praises, dismissing his gratitude with this is the least we could do for you, Ggukkie boy.
When he joins his mom and dad downstairs, it’s oddly quiet as they eat. Gureum places himself under the table and sighs, laying his head on Jeongguk’s feet. The boy can perceive the eerie atmosphere, so he asks about Gureum’s health and shows genuine interest when his dad updates him on the dog’s improvements. His mom, however, defines herself as an expert when it comes to her only son. She can spot even the tiniest change in his demeanour. Still, she knows to be delicate when asking about it, “Is everything okay, honey?”
Jeongguk stills with the fork in his mouth, looks at his mom with wide telling eyes, then nods. He hesitates, gulping down the previous bite, “Uh, my friends and I are going camping for my birthday.”
His mother smiles a big one, “That’s nice!” She seems aware something is being left out, so she inquires further, “But…?”
The questioned boy plays with his food while still munching on a big bite of it, “I guess I kinda forgot to mention it,” he starts, trying to mask his embarrassment by talking with his mouth still full. When his mom glares at him, he forces it down, “But, huh… Eunbi is in Seoul. And she’s Dahye’s roommate, so she’s coming too.”
It’s his mom’s turn to be silent. She looks like she’s taken aback, her mind working slower than usual to register a name she hasn’t heard in a long while, “Eunbi as in Song Eunbi? Our neighbour?”
Jeongguk unconsciously furrows his brows. The girl hasn’t been their neighbour for years, and never will be again. He doesn’t know why such a simple definition of her makes him feel edgy, “Yeah, our old neighbour.”
”Right… Well, that’s good, no?” Mrs. Jeon tries to lift up the atmosphere, even while knowing the mentioned girl could still be a touchy subject for the boy. When everything happened, a piece of him had been taken away with Eunbi’s sudden departure. There was seemingly no way to mend his heart, and as time went by Jeongguk closed up more and more every time his old friend was brought up, to the point she was never mentioned again, as if she had never existed. That illusion seemed to help the boy move on. His mom is not sure how her son feels about it now, but she unknowingly figures the scar has to have healed after all those years, and maybe seeing Eunbi again even brought her son to the closure he needed. When Jeongguk just nods, she hopes that is the case. His mom smiles, ”Invite her over sometimes?”
“… Yeah, mom. Huh, I will.”
#jungkook x oc#jungkook x original character#jungkook x female reader#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook x y/n#jungkook fanfic#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook friends to lovers#jungkook fluff#jeon jungkook#bts fic#bts x reader#bts imagines#📓: good luck babe!
148 notes
·
View notes
Text
ok i put a longer post abt tim's Emotional State in drafts for when my brain is less melted but re: tim and going to college im just gonna get a lil silly with it. hear me out.
i have this whole vague story in my mind for tim's college days moonlighting as red robin as he tries and figures out what he wants out of life. (it's a while after rr leaves off and all because he's like. Super Depressed for a hot minute and then has to drag himself through actually bothering to get his GED and applying to college, etc., but eventually lucius is like hey. you're great with gadgets, and you clearly love tinkering. i'd hire you for r&d in a heartbeat but you need at the least a bachelor's of engineering. i know you have a lot of the technical skills, but you need a degree. so tim goes ugh fine i'll get a goddamn engineering degree how hard can it possibly be.)
anyways. i think it's a universal experience that if you go to college and you hang with the STEM crowd, you will unfortunately get to know at least one Fucking Guy. it's like brentwood arc; tim does make friends, but there is just this One Fucking Guy he cannot stand and will never stand. this Fucking Guy is in the common room playing his guitar at midnight. he's drunk and yelling and laughing really loud when people have exams coming up. he's convinced everyone adores him. there's also a detective/supernatural plot going on. the subplot is just that tim hates This Fucking Guy.
at some point, there's a story beat where he as red robin has to rescue That Fucking Guy from a real dicey situation, and That Fucking Guy is really shaken and grateful to him, and he's like okay. maybe. maybe we are making progress. but then the next time he encounters This Fucking Guy as tim drake, the guy is just like. "ohhhh hey drake you missed it last night, it was AWESOME!!! i had to save red robin from a KILLER ROBOT. he's pretty cool though i guess. i bet you wish you could be more like him huh??" and tim is just. I Will Not Grind My Teeth About This. I Will Not. his life is a fucking joke. he dismantles the toaster oven in the common room kitchen to cope. it's definitely to cope and not just so that That Fucking Guy won't be able to heat up his pop tarts in the morning.
at another point, This Fucking Guy looks at street mode, lowkey, unremarkable Normal Car-looking redbird and goes, aw, dude, i thought your dad is loaded?? he only got you a generic-ass sedan?? that sucks lol, if you want we can take my car down to the game instead. and tim is just Say One More Fucking Word About My Baby I Dare You I Fucking Dare You One More Fucking Word.
(also i like to toy with the idea of this being a university in metropolis - he's out of gotham, but not too far. keeps him from getting antsy about what if he's needed because he can get right back over there. and in the meantime, he can hang out with kon and kara a lot, and occasionally enable and be enabled by lois lane and her snooping habits. there's another subplot in which tim and lois get up to shenanigans. at least once.)
it's sort of an introspective thing of him trying to come to terms with the way he no longer wants a fully normal life the way he always used to assume he would - he has the option to walk away from the cape now, like he always thought he would one day, but he just can't give it up anymore. he's fallen into the same black hole he watched dick and bruce dive headlong into. it's also about him finding joy in tinkering and working with his hands and getting to spend more time as tim drake first and foremost. and it's about him venting to kon about That Fucking Guy while they have a lil picnic on the green while kon loses his absolute shit laughing. all against the backdrop of a little mystery or something. <3
OH and also, most importantly. zoanne wilkins is there and laughing at him for assuming college would be easy. and kon gets her into wendy the werewolf stalker. My City Now.
#rimi talks#rambles#tim#like.... do u see the vision. there are emotions underneath here#but right now i have a migraine so its silly time first and foremost. Tim Hates That Fucking Guy#we've all known a Fucking Guy right? im pretty sure its a universal experience.#the stories i could tell about the Fucking Guy i knew. man.
475 notes
·
View notes
Note
Wyatt Johnston request!!
Y/n giving Wyatt some birthday "fun" celebrations after Wyatt was on a hatty watch and for winning game 4 on his birthday....smut included please
[ it’s supposed to be fun turning 21 ] w. johnston
paring : Wyatt Johnston x fem!reader
summary : the boys take Wyatt out after the game 4 win for his 21st birthday. Wyatt’s girlfriend goes with him but she has her own celebration plans in store for Wyatt that might not be able to wait until they get back to the hotel
warning(s) : smut ! oral (m receiving), drunk sex, semi public sex, bathroom sex, p in v unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), alcohol consumption and drunkenness
author’s note : got these two requests and i decided to combine them since they were so similar :)) enjoy bc i very much got carried away (pls pretend i posted this around wyatt’s birthday bc it’s sooo late but i started writing it on his birthday )
༺═──────────────═༻
She knew before his first goal that it was a special game since it's the night before Wyatt's 21st birthday. She's been waiting months for this night since she turned 21 in December. It makes tonight even better that Dallas is playing in game four of the second round of the playoffs too.
Wyatt scores again in the second period and she is on her feet for the rest of the game just in case he gets the hatty. It would be the perfect way to end being 20. He gives the puck to Steel on an empty net attempt though and that’s the end of his last game at 20 years old.
That’s Wyatt. He could’ve had a hat trick in his last game as a 20 year old but he let Sam have his first goal of the playoffs instead. So selfless. That’s her boyfriend though and it’s one of the reasons she loves him.
She goes back to the hotel where the Stars are staying to wait for Wyatt. It’s not quite midnight in Colorado so they have to wait a little bit before taking Wyatt out.
She changes out of her borrowed stolen Stars jersey into something a little more bar friendly. The Stars jersey and leggings turns into a skintight black mini dress with thin straps and heels. The dress accentuates her curves and pushes her breasts up. She pulls out the double French braids that she had in to make her hair naturally wavy then touches up her makeup.
A key is used in the door and it’s pushes open about 30 minutes after she gets back to the hotel. She peeks her head out of the bathroom and watches Wyatt walk into the room. He isn’t alone. Pavs, Tyler, Jamie, Roope, Miro and Logan walk in with him. She smiles and walks out of the bathroom.
“Hi, handsome,” she says to get Wyatt’s attention. “Nice goals tonight.”
Wyatt looks up from his phone and smiles when he sees his girlfriend. “Like what you saw, pretty girl?” he asks as she approaches him.
“I’ve very much enjoyed all seven of your playoff goals this season,” she laughs. “And three last season. Good job at scoring ten playoff goals before turning 21.”
One of his hands falls to her waist and he pulls her flush against him before crashing their lips together. His other hand rests on her lower back and he dips her backward a bit. She smiles and cups his jaw with both her hands.
The kiss heats up and for a second, she forgets that six other people are in the room. It’s not until one of said other people clears his throat that she remembers that they’re not alone.
Wyatt breaks the kiss and looks at his teammates. She turns her own head to look at the other hockey players in the room.
“The six of you insisted that you come back to my room with me knowing she was here and I scored two goals tonight while also being the eighth player in NHL history to score 10 playoff goals before turning 21,” he says. “I apologize for getting a little carried away.”
“A little?” Tyler asks. “You were trying to eat her face, Johnny.” She giggles at Tyler’s comment and looks up at Wyatt. He stands her back up but doesn’t let her go.
Her boyfriend rolls his eyes and asks, “What time are we going out and who else is coming? There’s no way that it is just the six of you taking me out tonight. Not after the win.”
Jamie, who was typing away on his phone, says, “All the guys that can legally drink are coming, which I’m pretty sure it’s everyone once the clock strikes midnight in an hour.” The Stars captain looks at her. “You’re 21, right?”
“Turned 21 in December,” she explains.
“Good,” Jamie replies. “We leave at quarter of twelve so we are at the bar by midnight to buy Johnny here his first legal drink. I’m giving Pavs that honor, but I’m buying his second drink as his captain.”
The guys laugh then begin fighting over who else is going to buy Wyatt a drink. All she got from the entire argument is that Wyatt is going to get very drunk tonight and will be very hungover when they wake up for their early afternoon flight back to Dallas tomorrow.
In the forty minutes between when Wyatt got back to the room and when they leave, more Stars players make their way into the hotel room after showering or eating something. It’s not a very big room and there are nearly 20 grown men standing around. She spends the entire time in Wyatt’s arms or sitting on his lap to save some space.
At quarter of twelve, she and the Stars leave the hotel in the van that they all pitched in to rent so they don’t take the team bus to the bar. Pavs is the designated driver so they can make it back in one piece. Ten minutes later, the van arrives at a bar in downtown Denver.
Considering it’s a Monday night in the middle of May, the bar is very crowded. Maybe it’s people who went out to watch the game or maybe it’s people that decided to just go drinking on a Monday night. Either way, it’s very crowded and the music is loud. ESPN is on multiple TVs so the game was on at some point. Their group gets stared at as they find a large high top table to sit at.
Wyatt sits at the head of the table. She sits on one side of him and Pavs sits across from her. Tyler sits on the other side of her and Jamie is on the other side of Pavs.
A waitress walks up to the table with her pad and says, “I guess you’re all here to celebrate your win. I guess you’re also here for his birthday.” She nods at Wyatt. “You guys still have like three minutes before I can legally serve him a drink.”
Jamie speaks up. “Well, by the time the drinks get to the table, it’ll be midnight and he’ll be 21,” he comments.
“Touché,” she replies with a smile. “What can I get you guys?”
They go around the table and order their drinks. Pavs orders for Wyatt since technically, it’s not midnight yet and he can’t order his own drink. He’s got two minutes before he can do that. IDs are checked, including Wyatt’s to make sure he isn’t lying about turning 21 in a minute.
Then she’s off with their drink orders. Pavs has the first round.
Tyler is the first to acknowledge when the clock strikes midnight. He lets the entire bar know when he screams, “He’s 21!” Hoots, hollers, and happy birthdays sound from around the table. Wyatt turns a bright shade of red but has a huge smile on his face as he thanks his teammates.
She smiles at her birthday boy. Wyatt eventually looks at her. “Happy birthday, baby,” she says to him.
“Thank you, my pretty girl,” Wyatt replies.
She hops out of her seat so she can give Wyatt a hug. He wraps his arms around her shoulders and she pecks his jaw. “We have a lot to celebrate tonight,” she mumbles against his ear. “Just so you know.”
He looks down at her with a grin on his face. “I can’t wait.”
Their drinks all arrive about two minutes later. The guys all hold their drinks up and Jamie makes a little toast.
“To Wyatt Johnston’s 21st birthday,” he says. “He is just getting started. That being said, here’s to us going up in the series and being one game away from moving onto the next round. Let’s win it on Wednesday and make it to the Western Conference finals for the second year in a row.”
The boys cheers their drinks and take a sip. Wyatt downs his in a few chugs. Some of the guys are impressed and others are surprised. She gives Wyatt a knowing look so he can relax because it’s so obvious that he’s had drinks before.
Jamie orders a round of shots, and everyone orders their favorite shot. Tyler gets the round of drinks after that and everyone is two drinks and a shot deep already. They’ve been at the bar for maybe fifteen minutes, ten of those where Wyatt has been legal.
A couple of the single guys go and try to find a girl for the night, but it’s rough being a Dallas Star in Avalanche territory. She just laughs at their attempts as the alcohol she has been drinking begins to run through her veins.
An hour later, things are spinning even though she’s in a chair. She’s had four drinks and five shots. All were very strong and she doesn’t have the highest tolerance. Wyatt has a higher tolerance, or maybe it’s because he’s several inches taller than her and weighs more than she does.
Wyatt excuses himself to go get a drink at the bar. Her eyes linger on him as he weaves his way through the crowd to get his drink. She sips her drink as her eyes fall to his ass. It looks good in the dress pants he never got out of when he got back to the hotel after the game. The button up he’s wearing hugs his arms in the right places as he leans against the bar.
She crosses her legs as she imagines both articles of clothing on their hotel room floor while they celebrate the win and his birthday.
Suddenly, she isn’t sure if she’ll make it back to the hotel. The room gets hot very quickly and she presses her lips in a line. Her mind betrays her despite every attempt to stop thinking about her plans for when they leave the bar in a few hours.
He comes back with a handful of drinks for the table, including another drink for her since she was almost finished her drink when he walked away. Wyatt hands her the glass and her eyes focus on his hand around it. All she can think about is his fingers in her hair while his dick is in her mouth.
She really cannot stop thinking about Wyatt fucking her and she’s had enough. She needs him. Now. Not in a few hours when they leave.
“Wy,” she says to get his attention. He hums as he sips his new drink. “Wyatt.” He finally puts his glass down and looks at her. She glances around the table. “I, um … need to use the bathroom. Can you show me where it is?”
“It’s back there,” Wyatt replies as he points over his right shoulder. “Big neon sign that says ‘restroom’. Can’t miss it.”
With a pout, she tries again. This time with intention in her voice. “Wyatt,” she sternly says. “Please come with me to the bathroom because there are so many people here right now and I don’t want to go alone.”
Wyatt turns his full attention to her and she raises her eyebrows. A lightbulb goes off in his head and he gets up from his seat. “Right, okay,” he stammers. “Let’s go.”
Happy that he finally got the idea, she hops down from her seat at the table and takes the hand that Wyatt offers her. Neither of them says a word to anyone at the table. They just walk toward the bathroom.
Luckily, it’s a single stall bathroom with a lock on the door. She checks her surroundings to make sure no one is looking before dragging Wyatt into the ladies room behind her.
She presses Wyatt against the door to shut it and clicks the lock so no one walks in. Wyatt takes her face in his hands and crashes their lips together in a heated kiss. He ravishes her mouth with his and it only makes things worse for her. She whines into his mouth and he swallows the sound.
It’s probably because she’s drunk, but she’s very turned on right now. With every kiss, she feels the need to cross her legs just for some pressure on her core.
Her fingers trail down his chest and torso until they land on the belt around Wyatt’s waist. Without looking, she undoes the clasp and unbuttons his pants. Wyatt groans when her hand slides into his boxers and wraps her hand around his hardening dick. With a flick of her wrist, she begins to pump his cock.
Wyatt hums before he breaks the kiss. He rests his forehead against her and pants, “Baby, I cannot come in these pants because I don’t know how much longer we will be out for and I don’t want to sit around with come in my pants.”
“No one said anything about coming in pants,” she says. Wyatt is about to say something but she drops to her knees on the tile floor of the bathroom before he could get a word out. It’s probably cleaner than the men’s bathroom floor but it’s still a bathroom floor.
She pulls his pants and boxers down until they pool at his ankles. His cock springs free and nearly hits her in the face. She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth as she takes him in her hand. Wyatt leans back against the door and mumbles something under his breath.
After a few slow pumps, she wraps her lips around the leaking tip. Wyatt’s fingers slide into her hair and he grips her locks very lightly as she takes him in her mouth. She is careful not to choke herself on his dick so she has to use her hand to make up some of what doesn’t fit in her mouth.
Wyatt lets out soft pants as she begins to suck him. The back of his head softly hit the door and he looks down at her with his eyes. “Fuck,” he sighs. “Never thought that I would see you on your knees for me in a bar bathroom.”
She pulls off of him and wipes away some saliva that has started to roll down her chin. “I would get on my knees for you literally anywhere,” she admits. Wyatt smiles and she wraps her lips around him again with a wink.
Soft pants pass Wyatt��s lips the closer he gets to his orgasm. His fingers run through her hair and she hums around him. One hand rests at the base of his dick and the other rests in his thigh above his knee to keep herself steady.
Heat pools at her core the longer she stays on her knees. She can only imagine what she looks like on her knees on the bathroom floor of a bar. Her knees do begin to hurt from the tile floor at some point but she tries to pay no mind to the pain.
She occasionally flicks her wrist to pump what she can’t fit in her mouth. Her cheeks hollow out as she sucks since she knows that’s one of Wyatt’s favorite things. It causes a moan to pass Wyatt’s lips and he quickly covers his mouth with his hand in case anyone is outside the door.
The only time she alerts Wyatt to the fact that her knees hurt is when she shifts her weight and winces around his dick.
He looks down at her and asks, “Do your knees hurt?” She nods in response. “Come here, baby.” She pulls off his dick with a soft pop and slowly gets to her feet. Wyatt has her by the waist so she doesn’t stumble and fall.
When she’s fully on her feet and finds her balance, Wyatt leans down and kisses her deeply. His tongue parts her lips and she hums. Her hands find his hair and his hands slide down to her butt. Wyatt squeezes once then picks her up by the back of her thighs.
She squeals in surprise, wrapping her arms around his neck. Wyatt sets her down on the counter next to the sink. She leans against the mirror behind her but keeps her arms wrapped around his neck.
Wyatt smiles at her and wraps his pointer fingers into the thin straps of her dress. He’s always been a boob guy so this doesn’t surprise her at all. He leans into her and presses light kisses to her breasts. He gropes one while he gives attention to the other, then alternates. Moans pass her lips and she leans her head back against the mirror.
“Wyatt,” she whines. “I need you. Please, baby.”
He snaps his head up when she talks. “Oh, you’re so nerdy that you want me to fuck you in a bar bathroom,” he comments with a sly smirk on his face. “Being legal is great.”
She pushes his shoulder. “Wyatt Johnston, fuck me before I go find one of your single teammates who wouldn’t hesitate,” she blurts out. “Quit yapping.”
With a laugh, he pushes the bottom of her already short skirt over her butt so the entire dress sits around just her waist. “You’re all mine, pretty girl,” Wyatt tells her. “Your threat is nothing more than a bark. I fuck you too good for you to go find someone else.”
She rolls her eyes because she knows he’s right. She’ll always come back to him, no matter what.
He pushes her black lace panties over and she presses her lips into a line. She shivers when the cool air hits her wet core. She kicks off her shoes and puts one of her heels on the counter so Wyatt has easy access because her legs have already fallen apart.
Wyatt leans into her and catches her lips in a deep kiss. She gasps against his lips when she feels him run his tip through her soaked folds. She grips the collar of his shirt as he pushes into her. "God, Wyatt," she mumbles. "Fuck."
He nips at her bottom lip as he slowly pushes himself into her. Her legs begin to shake with anticipation as Wyatt deepens the kiss and bottoms out in her at the same time. She hums and Wyatt swallows the noise.
After a second or waiting so she can adjust to him, Wyatt begins to roll his hips against hers. She cries out and he nips at her bottom lip. “Baby, you have to be quiet,” he reminds her. “Anyone could walk by and hear you.”
She nods in response and pulls back so she can look at her boyfriend. Wyatt’s lips are swollen and kiss bruised. His eyes are dark with lust and hazy from the alcohol he has been drinking over the last few hours. His hair is a mess from her running her fingers through it. He’s so pretty and so disheveled at the same time.
He splays his hands on either side of her on the counter to keep his balance. She keeps her arms around his neck so she doesn’t fall off the counter.
If anyone would catch her falling off a counter because of sex, it’s Wyatt. Wyatt would be the one to catch her.
His speed picks up after a minute and he move as deep into her as he can at this angle. She has to bite her lip to keep herself from getting too loud in case anyone walks by the bathroom or comes knocking. Wyatt lets out soft pants as he moves. A layer of sweat forms on both of them since it’s so hot in the tiny room.
One of Wyatt’s hands eventually slithers down between them and he find her clit. She cries out but Wyatt quiets her with a kiss. He plays with the little bundle of nerves and her entire body shakes as she tries to delay her own orgasm.
“Wyatt,” she groans against his mouth. “Wyatt, baby.”
“I have you,” he tells her between kisses. “Let go. I can feel you clenching so I know you want to come for me.”
His pace slows but he continues to slam into her every time he thrusts. She hums and feels the knot in her stomach threaten to come undone.
Wyatt flicks her clit and she comes with a squeal since she can’t shout. She feels her entire body clench around him. He pulls out of her quickly and comes all over her thighs and core. She pulls him in for messy kisses as they come down from their highs. Wyatt slouches against her and she slouches against the mirror. The kisses are hot and open-mouthed as they recover.
The kisses slow and she smiles against his lips. Wyatt pulls back and looks at her. She can only imagine what they look like right now. Sweaty, half naked, and blissed out in a bar bathroom. Come is rolling down her thighs.
“God, I love you,” Wyatt tells her.
“Oh, now you tell me after we fucked in a bar bathroom on your birthday and your come is all over my thighs,” she teases with a smile on her face. Wyatt laughs. “I love you too. Let me go pee and clean myself up if you love me though.”
He pecks her lips one more time before she reaches over and grabs a handful of paper towels to clean her legs. She fixes her dress when Wyatt helps her down then goes to pee because she’s not catching a UTI from having sex in a public bathroom. He cleans up the counter and uses the hand soap to wash it down.
When she’s done peeing, she helps Wyatt fix his shirt. She fixes his hair before fixing her hair. She can’t do a thing about the marks on her knees from the tile floor so she knows that if someone sees them, she’s gonna get teased for it and Wyatt will never hear the end of his from his teammates.
After they decide they’re decent enough, they sneak out of the bathroom.
Music still blares from every corner of the bar when they make their way back to the table. They take their seats and sip their drinks like they didn’t just fuck in the bathroom.
Unfortunately, someone did notice they left.
Logan leans on the table between them. “So, wanna tell me which bathroom you two got freaky in so I know if I have to wait to pee or not?” he asks.
“Shut up,” Wyatt retorts. “It’s supposed to be fun turning 21 so I’m gonna have the time of my life tonight. Also, it’s not my fault that my girlfriend is hot.”
He shudders and Tyler laughs. “You two are insane,” he comments. “Risky considering you’re a NHL player, Johnny.”
“I’d take a thousand risks for her,” Wyatt says. “End of story.”
“Yeah, we’re gonna be attending a wedding next year,” Jamie says after he swallows a sip of his drink. “Two years tops.”
She smiles behind her glass because she knows Wyatt is planning to propose at some point. She has no idea when but maybe Jamie isn’t wrong about the two years tops.
༺═──────────────═༻
MASTERLIST
requests are currently CLOSED !!
wanna be added to the taglist ? fill out this form !
taglist : @dasiysthings @dancerbailey3 @love4lando @ivy-34
#hockey imagines#hockey imagine#hockey fanfiction#hockey fic#hockey oneshot#hockey smut#nhl imagines#nhl imagine#nhl fanfiction#nhl fic#nhl oneshot#nhl smut#wyatt johnston#wyatt johnston x reader#wyatt johnston smut#zegrasdrysdale request
160 notes
·
View notes
Text
the right reasons
bachelorette masterlist - part 1 ▸ part 2 ▸ part 3 ▸ part 4 ▸ part 5 ▸ part 7
synopsis: final stretch of the season. home visits.
warnings: implied sex
w/c: 3.4k
a/n: apologies for late update i have been laid on my literal deathbed with sickness and the brain juices have basically run out for this series so this is a short update to get them flowing again and hopefully i can wrap it up soon 🙏 ty for the support as always!
‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅
the next few days are hectic with house visits. because of the contract you had both signed, and the fact that the entire nation has been invested with sana's journey to find love, it was a given that sana wouldn't be able to just drop out of show. that didn't mean she didn't try, in fact you had to pull her back from calling all the lawyers in the district to break her contract, insisting that it was fine to see the show through and that you were going to be there for her no matter what. it took a few more assurances, and a couple rounds of sex, kisses, and promised cuddles before she reluctantly agreed to continue filming the upcoming home visits.
jiwon's family was first. you had both met her younger siblings and her several nieces and nephews that were very young. they were all very sweet and it was adorable watching jiwon entertain the young ones.
fortunately, the classic 'father figure that gives the intruder the i'll kill you if you hurt her speech' wasn't present because it seemed jiwon served as that person for her younger siblings. though her younger sister was a little skeptical at first, she easily warmed up when she saw how great sana was with her kids.
sana and jiwon wrapped up the night with a private talk, one which sana didn't share with you, but you were learning to trust her, even though it still looked like she was dating 4 people and soon to choose the love of her life, you had to trust that it was going to be you after it all ended.
jacky's family was next except since most of his family was back in australia, you actually just had a nice dinner at jacky's apartment with eunji who jacky had nominated as his family stand-in. you had apologised profusely to eunji for not being a better friend and not being there for her on the night she was eliminated but she laughed at you and rolled her eyes, saying it was completely fine. she was also friendly with sana who was a little anxious seeing her again so soon after practically rejecting her on national television, but eunji was extremely cool, and they got along even better as friends.
if you ignored the cameras set up everywhere and the producers running in and out, it was a pretty normal night between 4 friends. you had enjoyed dinner made by both jacky and eunji, drunk soju, sung bad karaoke on jacky's home-installed karaoke television set, and played nintendo switch games all night.
in typical bachelor fashion, jacky and sana also had their own private talk on the balcony towards the end of the night, although it was a little silly watching the producers and camera crew figure out how to film it because it was a small apartment, meant only for jacky to live in, so the balcony was basically right outside the living room where you and eunji had stayed, trying not to look outside and give them their privacy while they were having their mandated talk.
then, the crew had surprised everyone with a flight to japan for momo's home visit. momo had greeted all of you at the airport in a traditional kimono and one ready for sana as well. sana had teared up seeing her and being in her country of birth again. the next few hours were a whirlwind as momo and her sister hana took you all for a tour of their home city, stopping by all the essential places to eat, take pictures at, and had even brought you to momo's old dance studio where they had readied a performance just for sana. the producers were very happy with the amount of content they were getting as you explored the city.
you could tell sana absolutely loved this date. the amount of planning momo put into it showed how much she wanted to impress sana, and how much she understood her homesickness and her love for her birth country. it was hard to be jealous of momo getting most of sana's attention during the date when sana was on the verge of tears at every new sight, sound, and feeling. and momo was a sweetheart anyway, always being inclusive of everyone, making sure she was there if anyone needed translation or help with anything, you adored her as a friend, grateful that she was able to provide this experience for sana during the stressful filming season it's been.
you ended the day at momo's house. you met her parents and although you were a little intimidated by her dad's buff physique, he turned out to be a big teddy bear who supported his daughter more than anything. both her parents were glad to be able to converse with sana in their native language, and easily warmed up to her because of the fact that she was japanese and communication was made a lot easier. you spent a lot of the dinner just watching them, only catching hints of their conversation from your select knowledge about the japanese language, but momo noticed eventually and tried to translate as much as she could which you appreciated very much.
it was only a little awkward when momo and sana went for their end of the night chat and you had to sit with momo's family attempting to make small talk with your broken japanese. it turned out okay when momo's mom smiled sweetly and brought out dessert, turning on the television and flicking to an episode of the bachelorette with japanese subtitles. it turned out to be the episode that heechul had tried to rizz up momo and sana using his almost offensive japanese, and you were all able to laugh as you tried to explain using gestures and your best attempt at charades exactly what type of man heechul was behind the scenes.
although japan and korea weren't far, the crew had let you had some time off in japan and granted a day off after filming the dinner with momo's family so that sana could go home and see her family as well. so that night you had taken the bullet train from kyoto to osaka and sana had held your hand, leaning into you as she talked through her childhood stories softly. it felt like it was just the two of you against the rest of the world.
the next day sana was positively glowing. she practically skipped around you in circles while she took you around her home town. it was clear she was loved and missed in the neighbourhood. sweet old ladies and old friends were stopping her everywhere, asking how she was, if she was going to move back to japan soon, everyone wanted a piece of her.
you had dinner with sana's parents who you'd met already when they flew to korea for sana's graduation. although there was still the language barrier, it was easily overcome when sana's mom started showing you albums of sana's baby pictures and pictures of her throughout her childhood.
sana had squealed adorably, trying to cover up her baby pictures and chasing you around the house while you yelled out comments while rapidly flipping through the pictures before she could catch you.
you ended the night collapsed on sana's bed in her childhood room, cuddled into each other. you never really decorated your room when you were younger, too repressed and focused on your studies to ever find the time or worth in doing so. but seeing sana's walls plastered with old japanese anime posters, idols, her ceiling dotted with glow-in-the-dark stars, and pictures of her friends and family everywhere, you can't help but yearn for the childhood you could've had if you had tore away from the books for a little bit.
you're both laid supine on the bed, looking at the imitation night sky sana has in her room, little do you know sana's gaze is focused on you instead.
"y/n?"
"hmm?"
"thank you for being here."
"are you kidding? i wouldn't be anywhere else in the world right now. plus we just got a free trip to japan, life couldn't be any better. i should be thanking you."
sana giggles and fully turns her body, facing you and draping an arm over your stomach. you have your arm under her neck, supporting it while she nuzzles into you.
when she starts playing with the bottom of your shirt, sneaky fingers sliding up and under it, you squeeze out a warning, "sana... your parents are literally next door."
you can feel her smirk against your neck as she starts leaving light kisses along it, and you're helpless, lifting your head slightly to give her better access.
she hums against you, "you can be quiet can't you?"
you make a muffled sound of protest, "your childhood idols and plushies are watching us right now."
you can't see it but sana rolls her eyes, continuing her way up your neck, "i lived out my teen years in here. you think they haven't seen me get off?"
you squirm at the thought, the image of sana under her sheets, trying to keep quiet while she touched herself to whatever fantasies she had at the time.
"you're thinking about it aren't you? how i looked- coming home after school- do you have a school uniform kink y/n? that's slightly concerning y'know?" she leaves a hot trail of dangerous kisses up your throat with each phrase, intent on driving you absolutely crazy.
"n-no!"
"mm okay." then her lips are on yours and really, you should know better than to alert her parents of your sexual proclivities but when sana's licking into you like that you can't blame yourself for not being able to think straight.
‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅
the final date is of course, with jihyo back in korea.
you were nervous walking in through the front door, the sight of jihyo's parents and her sisters, all familiar faces from when sana and jihyo used to host parties and get-togethers for the various holidays of the year.
fortunately, jihyo's parents and rest of her family were sweet enough to welcome the both of you with open arms. as if the breakup never happened. you gripped sana's hand tightly knowing she was probably going through a hellstorm of emotions right now, being in an environment that reminded her of the brokenness jihyo left her with.
what you did not expect was jihyo's ex-boyfriend to also be at the dining table, all smiles and big buff arms.
sana's hand tightened around yours at the sight of him, her eyes quickly flashing to jihyo with a mixture of hurt and disbelief. jihyo avoids her gaze, sitting down next to her ex-boyfriend instead.
you hear sana take a deep breath, composing herself before the cameras and smiling, you can see straight through it though, keeping her hand in yours when you take your seats at the table, glaring daggers at both jihyo and her ex.
it's clear the tension around the table is present.
jihyo's mom clears her throat, attempting to strike up a conversation, "so sana... it's been a while since we've seen you. what have you been up to?"
sana smiles politely, "well this entire show has been a pretty big thing lately. although i will say i was very surprised to see jihyo there on opening night. not as surprised as i am to see your ex-boyfriend here though." sana directs towards jihyo, a little harshly, stabbing her food with her fork.
"sungbin. it's nice to meet you." sungbin offers a polite nod, but keeps mostly to himself.
"sungbin is my best friend. i thought if y/n could go on this whole experience with you then it wouldn't be a problem if i brought my best friend along." her tone is cutting, like she knows something you don't. "besides... my family's already met you and given you their approval. i thought the whole point of home visits was to get to know people close to me and see if they like you?"
sana shuffles a little in her seat, her grip on you tightens. "right."
the table falls silent again, only the sounds of cutlery scrapping against plates able to be heard.
it's more than awkward and you can see the producers talking worriedly with each other, coming up with any ways to make this more entertaining.
it's jihyo's dad that clears his throat this time, "so sana... do you think you've found your 'one' on this show? i know jihyo is a contestant on your show but know we still care about you and want the best for you, even if that's not our daughter." he smiles kindly, while his wife pecks him on the cheek for his sweet words.
"dad!" jihyo startles.
"what? just because you decided to break up with sana doesn't mean we wanted to let go of her."
"yeah sungbin isn't nearly as good as you at super mario bros even with all those muscles." jihyo's youngest sister chimes in with a laugh, lightening the mood easily as you slip into old conversations and reminiscing better times. you can see the producers visibly relaxing as conversation starts flowing, but jihyo is still tense, unable to look at anyone except sungbin in the eye.
eventually the night leads you into board games with the family while sana takes jihyo outside to talk. you give her a reassuring look before she heads outside, sungbin gives you a strange glance but you don't bother paying him any attention. regardless of his presence, he was still a stranger to you.
you're celebrating your third pass by the go slot in monopoly when the argument outside starts to get louder and louder, able to be heard from inside the house.
"why would you bring him here!?"
"what do you mean why? don't tell me you haven't been sneaking around with y/n this entire time! you haven't even given this show a chance have you?! you haven't given us a chance!"
"jihyo i told you last time that we are over! we have been over for over a year now!"
"i apologised for that okay! i just thought- i didn't think you'd be the type of person to go on this show for the wrong reasons sana."
"what- what wrong reasons?!"
"you're not here to find love! you've had it! even when we were dating i always thought it was kinda weird how close you and y/n were!"
"what- what are you talking about jihyo?!"
"you know damn well what i'm talking about."
"i don't."
"the fact that you've been in love with y/n since way before we were dating sana."
"wh- what?!"
"yeah. i figured if you're not taking this experience seriously than i give you a taste of your own medicine. that's why i invited sungbin tonight. everyone talks about people only coming on these reality shows for their 15 minutes of fame, i didn't peg you to be one of them sana."
"i am taking this seriously! how can you tell me anything about what i've been doing when you've had tunnel vision this entire time? you've only been focused on trying to get me back after i already told you that we're over!"
"if you are taking this seriously then tell me you don't have feelings for y/n. tell me you're going to end up with one of the final four, it doesn't have to be me, but don't you think you owe it to the others who have been trying so hard to impress you this entire time to give it your all?"
"i- that's not for you to decide jihyo."
"you can't say it can you?"
there's silence for a bit, the muffled sound of sniffling. you can't help but feel like you're intruding, and the fact that everything was being filmed and recorded right now made it even worse.
you quietly slip out of board games night and head towards the producers.
"you're going to cut that out right?"
"sorry?"
"their conversation. you'll cut it out?"
"excuse me, who do you think you are?"
"sana's best friend. who cares about her and her national reputation as korea's most eligible bachelorette."
the producer sighs exasperatedly, "we'll see what we do in the final edits. no promises." he rolls his eyes and pushes past you to go talk to the camera directors.
you hurridely go outside to see sana sitting on the balcony, her head in her hands, jihyo looking out across the balcony.
"sana?"
they both turn to you, jihyo rolls her eyes predictably, scoffing and moving past you back inside. you take the opportunity to step outside and close the door behind you.
"sana sweetheart..."
sana's eyes are watery, barely concealed emotions rampant across her face.
"cameras." she gestures weakly around the balcony where cameras and microphones are still set up.
"let's go home then."
she takes a breath, nodding slightly and taking your outstretched hand, you squeeze it reassuringly, leading her out of the house and offering your goodbyes to jihyo's family.
rather than take the driver back to the bachelorette pad, you insist on driving and giving the driver the rest of the night off. that way, you can at least ensure the both of you aren't under the watchful eye of producers looking to make a buck off sana's misfortune for entertainment.
it also helps that you can take a detour and head to a late night ice-cream parlour you and sana used to go to all the time as college students.
you grin when you see sana's expression immediately brighten when you pull up into familiar streets.
"where are we going y/n?"
"somewhere as sweet as you."
"ice-cream?"
"mhm."
she squeals happily, hugging you and you try your best to return it with a laugh while you keep your eyes on the road.
you park and walk into the ice-cream parlour hand in hand.
sana beams when she walks in, excited to taste test all the flavours despite always getting the same thing every time. you let her be childish again to forget all the things jihyo's said to her.
once she's tasted everything you order your usual white crumble pistachio and strawberry yoghurt for sana.
as always, she has to try some of yours and you must try some of hers because she's tried yours so it's only fair. except this time she leans in to kiss you, the flavours mixing on your tongues, a sweet kiss with no cameras or pressure, a moment just for the two of you.
after you're both finished with your cones, she leans into you, placing her head on your shoulder.
"about what jihyo said..."
"it's okay sana. you don't have to explain anything. i shouldn't have been eavesdropping anyway."
she snorts, "well i mean- it's going to be broadcast nationally anyway."
"maybe not. producers said they'll take it into consideration."
"mm. i haven't- i don't-"
you let her think, placing an arm around her shoulder comfortingly, letting her come up with the words in her own time.
"i love you. i told you that already. i don't know for how long- maybe jihyo's right and maybe i've always loved you. that doesn't mean that- it doesn't meant that i haven't put my all into this right?"
"of course not sweetie. i don't know if it was the same for you but i didn't even realise i had romantic feelings for you until during this. in the beginning, i was completely focused on finding the person that would be right for you. and i think you were too. it just so happened that halfway through, we started- well i realised that you were it for me." you turn to face her gently, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear and caressing her cheek.
she rubs her nose against yours softly with a smile, "you're it for me too. i'll figure out how to get through the rest of the season, but i think jihyo's right in that i have to start being honest with the rest of the contestants. none of them deserve to be led on like this."
"i'm sorry i kinda fucked up this whole show for you."
she pecks you chastely, "silly... we wouldn't be here together or have realised our feelings for each other if this didn't happen right? we just have to be selfish for a little more."
you sigh against her, bringing her into a proper kiss, lips trying to convey just how much you felt for her.
#sana#minatozaki sana#twice sana#sana x reader#twice x reader#sana imagines#twice sana x reader#twice imagines#dovveri
177 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sweet Blind Summer Fling ༄ S. Gojo
"Due to a bet made by Nobara, I made an online dating account to set myself up with a blind date. Although a bit witty and annoyingly childish, Gojo's remarkably handsome and sweet...So, how the hell did I end up sleeping with him on the first date!?"
A/n: Alright, y'all, it's time for the second entry for my summer series!! Not gonna lie, it was fun to write as it's my first time writing for Gojo. I think I did a decent job capturing his character in my style, but you will be the judge of that. This was supposed to be posted on Monday, but I was overwhelmed (had 1 hour of sleep) and dropped something else. But we're good to go now! :) And fyi: there's a bonus scene at the end that sets up the next story as they are connected. Any spelling/grammar errors will be dealt with tomorrow.
Also, guest appearances from my lovely mooties (@cu7ie // @kazushawty // @etherealxmaya // @hqkalon // @yourrfavzxri // @neptunes1nterweb) because I felt like it, lol. Hope this puts a smile on their faces if they see this :3
Series m. list!! This entry has been updated along w/ its contents.
Cw: switch! Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content, so minors DNI - blind date/online match-up - age difference (the reader is at least in their 20s; Gojo is around early 30s) - texting back and forth - sex at a hotel - one night stands - consensual sex under the influence - protected sex (PSA: wrap it up, or get the fuck up) - cowgirl + lotus positions - pet names (angel, baby, dollface, pretty, princess, sweet thing) - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - praise - mentions of drug/alcohol use (reader and Gojo don't get blackout drunk, but y'all get tipsy) - a bunch of silliness bc it's a Gojo fic (duh).
Wc: 6.9k (7.4k with the bonus scene...never say I don't do anything for y'all)
Dear Diary...I once again have come to you with more thoughts that cloud my personal judgment. I did not think you'd be of use to me again. But after what happened last night, it's worth having you in front of me and a pen in my hand again once more...
After finishing your finals, summer break has finally welcomed you with open arms. Two semesters of painful studying and sleepless nights have been long forgotten since you turned in your last in-person exam! You've started working at an internship that you've been dying to get, enjoying the new things you're learning from experienced colleagues, and finding love in the field you've grown and studied for this entire time.
In addition, you also have all the time in the world to hang out with your best friends — Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara! Just last weekend, you four hung out at this new sports bar that recently opened and had the most fun experience! Yuuji made new friends with people at the bar who kept buying him drinks; Megumi had to begrudgingly watch over the salmon-haired other to ensure he didn't croak from alcohol poisoning, and you and Nobara took sweet pictures together for your summer album.
It's been a great summer so far. There has been nothing that could bring you down from enjoying this season in the best way you can. Absolutely nothing that could throw you off your summer grove!
However, that's what you initially thought. Because why else would you be in some random hotel room writing in your diary.
To get the full context, I'll take you back to the night I and the gang left the sports bar. We spent the night at Yuuji's as he and Nobara tried to sober up...
It was a chill evening in your friend's place, you and the other three in the living room chatting with the television on low to not disrupt his sleeping grandfather. Yuuji was sobering up by eating bread and drinking water, Megumi was on the couch reading something on his phone, and you were arguing with Nobara.
The auburn-haired other points to you with her index, holding a glass of water. "I told ya, you lost the bet!"
"How!? You literally cheated!" You push her finger out of the way as you two giggle at your complaints. "You kicked Yuuji in the shin to distract him, and I didn't even know I was a part of the damn thing!"
Now your pink-haired friend jumped to say words of his own. "That was foul with what you did; I should've fallen to the floor and acted like I was really hurt. Have you paying my medical bills."
"Blah, blah, blah, sounds like a losers' pleas to me." Nobora rolls her eyes while you and Yuuji glare at her. "And you! You didn't say you were out of the game, unlike Megumi. I said, and I quote: 'When the wings touch the table, the bet is on,' and guess what? By the time the wings got here, I didn't hear a single peep out of you saying you forfeited from the challenge! Once you picked up a single wing, your ass was set in stone!"
"Oh, for fuck's sake, you annoying bitch..." you groan in your hands as the woman maniacally barks her laughs. "Alright, fine, I ate the shortest portion of wings. Therefore, I, Y/n L/n, declare myself the loser to this fuckery of a challenge. So, Queen Cheater," Nobara snickers to herself at the title you've given her. "What is my punishment?"
You should've known by the evil twinge of your friend's lip that the punishment would be absurd. "I, Queen Cheater," she takes a confident swig of her water before sealing your fate. The words she says next shake to your core, and the decline of your dignity hits you like a bullet train. "...Hereby dare you, the loser, to make an online dating account and find thyself a blind date!"
Your disapproval fell on deaf ears, forcing you to resentfully grab your phone and download a dating app. To make matters worse, you had to make the account with your friends watching (minus Megumi, who still wanted no part in what you all were doing). Once you were done setting up your profile, the three of you looked to the screen to look at the other users, who were also on a quest to find a sense of courtship.
The past thirty minutes have been spent looking at all the users around the area, swiping left and right for those who did and didn't pique your interest.
Todo Aoi (22) "I like 'em tall, with a FAT ASS. If you don't fit the criteria, it's gonna be hard to convince me."
Oh, brother.
Sol (18) "Don't know about a long-term relationship, but we can be chill if ya wanna be friends! :D"
Seems nice. Maybe a chat wouldn't hurt.
Mei Mei (36) Don't ever expect me to pay for the first date or any date. Will you see me again depends on what you have in your savings. ♡
Alright, I appreciate the honesty. But nope.
Karma (20) "Tbh I'm secretly married to my four wives: Hoshi, Maya, Sae, and Zari. But if you look like or are Toji Fushiguro, hit my DMs pronto!! Shhhh, don't tell Hoshi tho, she might divorce me :P"
Okay then—Wait, isn't that Megumi's dad??
Hoshi (20s) Don't listen to Karma. We are very much divorced, and my heart belongs to my one and only: Toji Fushiguro :/
Alrighty then...
Sapphire (19) "Call me MLK, cuz I had a dream about us 🫦"
Fucking no!
Frustration keens in through a heavy sigh. Usually, you'd be happy knowing you can't seem to find a match; however, for this situation, Nobara Kugisaki will not let you off the hook until there's someone worthy of the swipe of invitation. You groan in exhaustion, throwing your head back onto the couch behind you.
With no luck, you decided to call it a night and try again later. So you called an Uber, took yourself home after saying goodbyes to your friends, and reluctantly promised Nobara you'd let her know if you'd get a blind date. With a nice shower and some comfortable PJs, you're now lying comfortably on your bed and looking through all the pictures you took tonight. Then, for some reason, you had the urge to go back on the dating app to look through more users to match up with. Probably because you'd prefer to get this bet out of the way now than later. Regardless of the justification, you spend about twenty minutes swiping and reading through many other people's profiles, and — just like before — not many people catch your eye.
That holds true until you stumble upon a name and description that sparks your curiosity.
Satoru Gojo (old enough to be irresistible; 31) "I was made perfect, I can do everything perfectly, but I want us to be perfect together (・ω<;)☆"
It might've been the use of the emoticon or the confidence that seeped out based on the tiny description. Whatever the case, you stayed on the user's profile for quite a while longer than the others. Even going far as to read his profile thoroughly: knowing what his likes and dislikes are, his height, a fan of Digimon, and so on.
And you contemplated whether or not to swipe him to the side of approval, but you made up your mind after a few minutes of inner discourse. It's not like I'll match up with him immediately. So, you gave him the go and continued on with your search.
Although, that was short-lived because what happened next surprised you to the point that sleep no longer claimed over you.
"Contratz! You've successfully matched with Satoru Gojo!"
Wait, what!!??
You were utterly perplexed by the pop-up showing up on your phone screen. There's no way this was happening, all under the same night, too! And what surprised you the most was the fact that he was awake as well, sending you the first message:
gogojojo: Hey!
Oh, fucking shit. Your body tenses at the greeting, reading his username and message repeatedly. Quickly, you take a few deep breaths to ease yourself before doing something stupid. You answer him with a salutation of your own:
y/ndontwannabehere: Hi there!
gogojojo: A night owl too, huh? Couldn't sleep?
y/ndontwannabehere: Yeah, was just on my phone for a bit, until I saw your message.
gogojojo: Lucky me! I was surprised to have you as a match, I saw your profile about an hour ago.
y/ndontwannabehere: I'm also surprised as well, you're one of the few people who I seemed interested in.
gogojojo: Well, I'm flattered :D Now that you got my attention, what would you like to know about me?
y/ndontwannabehere: Okay...it says you're six-foot-three, how's that like?
gogojojo: I may be six-foot-three, but I'd like to be six feet under you ;3
y/ndontwannabehere: ......
......I regret giving this dude a chance.
Because of the terrible pick-up line, you closed off the app and turned off your phone to switch the lights off and go to sleep. However, another text sends your phone vibrating on the dresser's surface.
gogojojo: Woooow, not even a pity laugh? :/
You shake your head at the notification, but a smile creeps up when you open your phone and tap on the keys to message back.
y/ndontwannabehere: nope, that sucked ass.
gogojojo: Hey now!! >:T you can't say it's ass if it did what it was supposed to do
y/ndontwannabehere: and what's that?
gogojojo: got you here talking with me ヾ(●ε●)ノ
His message makes your smile broader, and you spend the rest of the night talking to Gojo.
It continues for two more weeks, sharing pieces of info about yourselves while rolling your eyes at his annoying jokes and pick-up lines. But for the most part, you enjoy your talks with the stranger on the other side of your screen.
And it all goes swell until he drops this:
gogojojo: Hey! Wanna go on a date with me this weekend?
You were lying on your bed watching Netflix, and you almost choked on your dinner when the message popped up. So in tune with the back-and-forth between you and Gojo that you had forgotten why you made an online dating account in the first place! You grab for your phone to reply:
y/ndontwannabehere: you're serious?!
gogojojo: yeah! I mean, you and I've been talking for a while, I'm kinda into you, plus we could meet up somewhere close. Besides, I would like to see you, and I know you're dying to see me too :)
y/ndontwannabehere: And what makes you think I'd DIE just to see you?
gogojojo: Because why would you not~? You'd be surprised by how many people I've had fallen head-over-heels for me~
y/ndontwannabehere: well, guess I'll be the first one to not be >:3
gogojojo: HUH!!?? Don't say that, I'll cry
y/ndontwannabehere: LMAO grown ass man crying over rejection
gogojojo: Rejection hurts, and I have a weak heart!! :'000
y/ndontwannabehere: Liar.
gogojojo: ANYWAYS! You up for a date?
And that's how you started dressing yourself up on a Friday afternoon, fixing yourself up in front of your bedroom mirror. Checking your phone periodically for Gojo to tell you when he's in front of your home.
You already texted Nobara that you got a blind date, to which she praised you with monumental amounts of supportive text messages and emojis and a text stating she'll throttle you if you don't tell her all about it. It was humorous: you created the online dating account because of a stupid bet for a random date — and now that it was here, you didn't know how to feel. You can't say when was the last time you ever went out with someone, let alone on a blind date! Anxiousness shadows you about the whole thing, but after chatting and getting to know a little bit of Gojo, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad of a date.
After all, the guy seems likable and fun to hang out with based on your interactions. Plus, it's only a date. That's all it is. Absolutely nothing attached in any shape or form.
Thoughts grind to a halt when you hear your phone vibrating on your dresser, a text from Gojo.
gogojojo: I'm here~~~ Ready to fall madly in love with me? :3
Your heart skips a beat at the message, biting the bottom of your lip in nervousness. You send him a reply:
y/ndontwannabehere: Nah, ready to barf right in front of your face :P
gogojojo: Such a rude person :/ Get your butt out here
You giggle before shutting off your phone and grabbing your bag with all your necessary items. Before you leave, you look in the mirror one last time, using this moment to mentally prepare yourself for what's to come. The day has come; you're about to go on a date. No going back now, and I can finally put this dumb bet to rest!
You open your front door and enter outside, the summer heat crawling on your legs from your cute jean shorts and your shoulders excluded from the cream-white cami top. You see a black car — a black 2018 BMW XI — parked right on the street, windows tinted to hide the face you're looking for. But when you draw closer to the vehicle, the passenger side window slides down, and you finally meet him.
The man of the hour himself, the man you've been talking with for two weeks straight, and the man you were about to experience a complete mess of a date with: Satoru Gojo.
"Hey there," his voice was chipper and friendly; his texting style matched his speech. From the window, you can interpret his outfit: a blue flannel shirt covering his white Tee and black jeans with a silver chain emanating from his belt. His eyes were blocked by dark circle sunglasses, making it hard to decipher the color. But his snow-white hair was the first thing that caught your eye, contrasting with the black interior of his car. "Y/n, right?"
You smile at your name. "Correct, Mr. Gogojojo."
He snickers at the use of his username. "You look cute, and I know you like what you see since you were eyeballing me up and down."
"Yeah, whatever." You roll your eyes before opening the passenger door, putting your bag between your legs as you sit down. While putting on your seatbelt, you can feel the bass subtlety vibrate within the car, and the music was...What the fuck? You look at the front integrated head unit on the dashboard and see what artist the man is listening to. "...You listen to Zack Fox?"
"Yeah, I was listening to his songs on my way here! You know his song Marinate?" And before you could answer, the white-haired man sang along to the lyrics. To your perplexity, you just watch him rap along with the artist and the outlandish lyrics. And he just keeps going until the transition to the second verse. "Funny, right?"
"You know," you shake your head at Gojo, whose grin goes wider. "I was about to fall for you until you started rapping the lyrics."
"Whaaaat, he's a comedian, it's meant to be funny!"
"Whatever. Let's just hurry and get this date over with."
"Oh, sounds like someone's ready to be wined and dined by me." He starts the car and shifts between gears. "Don't rush things, princess. Good things come to those who wait."
"Just drive!"
Gojo laughs at your complaints as he drives off on the street. You playfully groan to yourself at your date's antics, looking out to the window to watch your surroundings move past your line of sight.
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
"Ever since high school, I would eat a pack of gummies anytime I was doing homework because it stimulates my brain and helps me focus. So by the time college came around, I got so used to eating sweets that I naturally started liking them." Gojo took a sip of his milkshake. "But then, when my best friend and I went to our first house party, I had my first drink. And, Y/n."
"Oh God, what?"
"The taste was so bad that I tried downing it all in one chug. Well, that came back to bite my ass — and my best friend got the worst of it."
"Gojo, what did you do?"
"He was sitting down on a couch talking to someone, and I was behind the couch feeling all squeamish. So, before I could stop myself, I barfed on his hair!"
"Oh, my God, No!!" And the two of you roar in laughter and bang on the booth table you were sitting at.
The date was at an old, vibrant diner in the city where Gojo is a regular customer; the cozy and welcoming atmosphere had you erase any anxious feelings about this date and feel a little more confident. You and Gojo took things slow, you talking about your summer internship and him of his job as a high school teacher.
The conversation started the topic of summer break came to play, prompting you to talk more about yourself and your friends. That flipped the switch entirely as you became more open about your friends and their goofiness. And as a goofy man, Gojo was intrigued with your stories and had him reminiscent of memories from his youth. Although, you've come to find out that Gojo takes his playful nature to a whole other level, and it's been having you two laugh about said foolishness for the past hour.
"The funny thing is, right, he was talking to this sophomore girl that was eyeing him up the whole time we were there," Gojo says through wheezes. "And he was finally talking to this chick, and she was really getting into him. I didn't mean to intrude on his parade or anything, but as my best friend, you're supposed to help me through thick and thin. I was going to ask if it was okay if I headed to the dorm alone while he stayed at this party. And then, vomit happened."
"Ewww, you terrible friend!" You try to eat a fry from your meal, but your giggles make dining difficult. "No wonder he pranked you with a weed brownie."
"Jokes on him; I still nailed my presentation for my exam. I don't remember saying anything I said, but I take pride in whatever I did to get that A." He takes a big bite of his burger and swallows before saying more. "And I started seeing the sophomore girl he talked to afterward, so checkmate."
You gasp at the information and throw a piece of your food at him, which he effortlessly catches with his hand and eats. "You petty bastard! I'm on your friend's side all the way."
"No regrets!" He hits you with his annoying chuckle that has you smiling hard, and the light above your table makes his dark sunglasses shine chicly.
"Oh, yeah?" You inquire. "I bet I could make you regret it."
The man on the other side of the booth scoffs. "Is that so? And how are you gonna do that, my pretty princess?"
You didn't think he'd buy your bluff. So, the truth is, you had no idea of how'd you punish the snow-haired man. Looking around the diner, you scope for anything that sparks a concept. You then turn to his side and notice a booth at the far end. A woman was laughing with her friends and sipping on a cocktail, making a slightly sour face after taking a drink.
And then it hits, along with a sneer, and you peer back to your date.
"You don't like alcohol, right?" He quirks up a brow at your question. "How many times have you had a drink in your life?"
"Three or four."
"Well then, I dare you to drink three or four cocktails. No milkshake or water to help you get through. Just the ice cubes in the drink."
White brows furrow, and even if the shades block them from your interpretation, you can tell Gojo is studying your face in deep thought with your so-called punishment. Ten seconds go by before he scoffs again. "I'll take up on that. On one condition," he leans back on the booth seat. "You have to take the drinks with me as well."
Now it's your turn to raise a brow and think about his words. "You're paying for the drinks."
"Done deal." He pulls his hand outward to you, initiating a handshake to set the seal in stone before continuing on with this game of yours. You happily shake his hand, commencing the punishment to officially start.
One cocktail was a breeze for you but a bit of a doozy for Gojo to stomach; you had to warn him that if he barfed on you, you'd ditch him and block him for life. Two cocktails in is when you begin feeling tingly. Your date was going through it halfway into the glass, so you had to compromise that a glass of water was needed for him.
Three cocktails in, and you undoubtedly feel the alcohol hit you behind its sweet and tangy facade. You can hardly look at the drink, same with Gojo. You two look at each other and shake your heads in disagreement, pushing the glasses to the side and groaning with your now-drunk selves.
Gojo is the first to say something. "As far as disciplines go, that was, without a doubt, one of the worst things I've had to endure."
You giggle. "Honestly. But I—hic! Excuse me. I bet you're regretting throwing up on your friend's hair now. I did it for his sake, after all."
He only looks at you through his glasses. He then gets up from his side of the booth and walks to yours, and you scoot over to let him have a seat. "Nah, don't regret it one bit. Because if I hadn't done it, I wouldn't have you over here laughing and suffering in alcohol with me about it." He maneuvers his hand to rest on your shoulder, and you allow him to move closer to you. "Wouldn't be spending this fun evening with you."
Your eyes hesitantly venture up to his face, welcoming you to the tension that builds up with the lighting and soft music of the diner. His hand rubs on your shoulder in a comforting manner, a gesture you take note of even under the influence. "You know, since you're enjoying having me and all, don't you think I should have a reward for doing your punishment with you."
"And what reward do you have in mind?"
"Can I see them?" You use a finger to motion your own pair of eyes, resulting in the snow-haired man in a short chuckle. But he doesn't argue with you and uses his free hand to remove his shades.
Icy blue is the first thing that comes to mind when you look at his eyes. His orbs are a rarity to the usual crowd, yet they go perfectly with his peachy complexion and pale hair. His orbs hooded and honed in on your figure, appearing soft because of the slight rosy shade of pink on his cheeks. You take in every single feature of his face before speaking.
"Well, I'm starting to see why so many people fall for you, Mr. Gojo." Your face goes hot with the sudden confidence that sneaks within you, yet you continue. "You're very attractive."
He chortles at your comment. "Thanks, dollface. But I don't think it's fair that you only get a reward from me. After all, I almost drowned in alcohol."
You hum. "Fair enough. What would you like?"
His face doesn't change with the following sentence he utters, but you take note of the slight squeeze on your shoulder. "A kiss from the princess would sure warm my heart."
Brows draw upward and breath hitches. A kiss? On the first date? On a blind date?
You don't know what possessed you to do this — it might have been the cocktails. But you incline your face to his and move forwards, your plump lips land on his soft ones for a simple kiss. And with the low hum of his voice, you place another. And another.
When you remove yourself from him, his eyes open to meet yours. A smile gets broader, and so does yours. "You taste sweet," you say.
"So do you." His fingers toy with the strap of your cami top. "Kinda want to kiss you more. And, you know, do a little more, only if you're up for it."
You give him a look. "I believe I just gave you a reward after receiving yours."
"I know, I know," he raises his other hand defensively, but he doesn't remove his smirk. "That's why it's up to you."
You only look at him as he waits for your answer. You already kissed the man; what more is supposed to happen on a blind date? Thoughts on what to do are carefully calculated in your mind, remembering the reason why you're even on this date in the first place. Without Nobara's stupid bet, none of this would be conspiring. Yet simultaneously, it's not like you were having a terrible time. If anything, it was quite the opposite. Not once did you feel uncomfortable around Gojo's presence or feel the need to call off the date. Just enjoying his company and character that attracts you to him more. Even if it means spending the entire night with him.
I'm already deep into this night. What's the use of stopping now.
"So?" Your eyes peer up and down on his figure. "What does 'a little more' entail?"
One moment you and Gojo were enjoying each other's company at a diner, then the date was moved to a different location the next. Now you and the white-haired man are in a cozy hotel nearby. You expressed your worries about Gojo driving you two to the new spot as he still had alcohol in his system. But your complaints fell on deaf ears as he persuaded you into trusting him ("Don't worry, it's like three streets away! Plus, it's almost midnight. No one's on the street." "If you crash us into a pole or something, don't ever ask to talk to me again." "Duly noted~" )
The two of you got yourself into a small hotel room. Soft lighting from the lamps bathes nude bodies lying on the comfortable queen-sized. You mount on top of Gojo, a makeout session warming the two of you up with the exchange of body heat. Sucking and biting each other's lips, his big hand at the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, and the grind of your hips on his firm erection makes the throbbing sensation between your legs flourish with your slick painting him.
His kisses trail down to your neck, and you allow him to venture below your clavicle. Pillowy lips pepper your chest and eventually find your breasts, taking a hardened nipple into his warm mouth.
A sharp cry exits your mouth when Gojo lightly teases your nipple with his teeth. "Mmmm! G-Gojo, pleaseee, I want it," your words come out in whimpers, your body quivering as your cunt brushes against his erect cock shielded by a rubber.
"Is that so, dollface?" He coos at your pleas, his hand running up and down the cusp of your ass and slender fingers teasing your aching entrance every time they draw nearer. "Then go on, ride on my dick like you want to."
His permission has your face go hot, but you station your hands on his chest to propel you upwards, admiring the view of him below you for a moment before lifting your ass. He moves his hands behind his head to relax, signaling you to do the work yourself and at your own pace. And with that, you do.
Your bottom raises until you position the tip of his shaft on the squish lips of your folds. Your breath hitches at the contact of his glans. His smooth voice coaxes you. "Relax, sweet thing. Take your time." You take a few moments to even your breathing and mentally prep you for your following actions. Hips gradually go down and push the cockhead further between your folds. Entry is prompted through the pain with every breath, and a sharp gasp lets you know that his girth finally enters you. And Gojo moans as well.
"Hmmm, that's it." He comments sweetly, his blue orbs tracing the union of your sexes. His hands now snake to your hips, and he throws his head back on the pillow under him. "Ready when you are, princess."
When you're ready, you move your hips downward to take in more of his member, the size of him widening your folds to accommodate the foreign limb intruding inside your vulva. His curve nudging your inner walls has your legs quake, and you concentrate on not being hasty and taking his cock all in one go. So once you finally meet the base, you exhale shaky and use a few seconds for your body to adjust.
Knowing you have the reins, you start to move. You start off with a slow speed, letting the feeling of his dick rub your walls in a steady position. Your whining is muffled with the bite of your lip, but not the man below you. He proudly expresses his pleasure in his moans, the hold on your hips getting tighter.
"Haaahhh, so good and tight," Gojo purrs, egging you to dial up your tempo. He notices you biting the bottom of your lip, and he chuckles. "Come on, baby. I wanna hear that cute voice of yours. Lemme hear it all." He then surprises you with a sudden thrust, evoking a choked cry from puffy lips.
You get the memo then and just let the pornographic noises fly, every moan getting higher and louder with the pace of your hips. His length drilling within you with each intake, and you lean forward for your clitoris to stimulate with the friction, causing you to jerk. You can't tell if it's because of the sex or the cocktails from hours ago making your nerves so sensitive and tender. But in any case, it makes you feel so good right now.
And when you lean back, the feeling gets even more ecstatic, resulting in more mewls from you. His dick goes even further than before, grazing your sweet spots and walls with precision with your increased speed. You swerve your hips in circles, having the man groan. To counter, his hand snakes down to your clitoris to play and pinch on, and you scream.
"Ahhhnn! Haaaah, Gojo! It feels so," the sounds of your ass smacking on his things are now apparent to the ears. The raunchy squelching noises of your cunt embarrass you; however, you can't deny the grip your cunt has on his cock with every rock. Your mind slowly descends into a dreamy haze. "Nnnmph!! Feels too goood, wanna commme..."
He opens his eyes to look at you; the erotic display of your nude body bouncing on his shaft turns him on even more. "Yeah, wanna come with me?" You nod lazily, earning another chortle from the man beneath you. "Alright, stay still for me."
It takes you aback when he suddenly moves up from the bed, sitting with his legs crossed under your ass and his handsome face too close to yours. You instinctively avert your gaze away from the frosty-headed other, bashfully turning your face to the side. It amuses him, guiding your face back to him with his hand. "Hehe, don't be scared of me, angel. I wanna see that beautiful face of yours."
Again, you can't tell whether or not it's the effect of the alcohol, but your face and ears go uncomfortably hot at his compliments. And now that his face is so close to yours, you can clearly take in his features. His sky-blue eyes were extremely fixated with yours, softly hooded with the flutter of his snow eyelids and in contrast with his rosy cheeks. Your heart skips a beat. What is with this beautiful motherfucker?! "Stop flirting with me in the middle of this..."
He laughs at your sheepishness, kissing your cheek. "Flirting with you is what got you here in the first place, baby. Now," his hands slither down your ass, squeezing the flesh with his fingers. "I'm gonna start moving — get ready."
He waits for you to wrap your arms around his neck and lift yourself from his legs before he begins moving his pelvis. The rash jabs of his cock leave you gasping for air and clasping around him. He hisses to your ear with his arms now wrapped around your back as he brings up the rhythm of his hips. You're now forced to bounce onto his crossed legs, his dick scraping your insides deliciously so that you can't think properly.
It's now that everything feels better than before; his member now achieving deeper penetration to the point of hitting your G-spot accurately with the underside of him. You no longer try to suppress the sounds leaving your lips, your wails bringing life to the hotel room. And Gojo's moans get louder and louder when your legs slither around him, and your ass matches the climbing cadence.
"Oooooh, fuck, Gojo! Shit, shit—Mmaah!!" With every rut to your cunt, you can feel the pounding of your head get louder and louder. "Oh, Christ, it feels tew good, so gooood...!!"
"Hnngh, mmmnph!!" Gojo groans at the pleasure, placing his sweaty forehead on yours. His eyes survey your certified expression caused by his touch. He chuckles, "You look so cute jumping on my cock like this. Such a pretty angel."
Timid by his words, you shift your face onto his shoulder to shield away from his line of sight. "Haaaah, stop saying stuff like that—Ahhhhhnnn!!"
You shriek when two fingers come down to your clitoris, the digits swiping and pinching the tender bud. "Hiding away from me again, huh, dollface?" He continues to mess with your clit ensuing in choked mewls and tears streaming down your face, and his hips increase in speed.
Your brain is a mushy mess, fighting the right to form coherent sentences. His fingers go at a hurried pace, abusing your clit. You're so close. Almost there. "Ahhh! Ahhhhh! Go-Gojo, pleaseee, I'm gonna cum—Hmmm!! Ahhaaaaaa!!!"
The peak hits you hard like a train, your body shaking uncontrollably on Gojo and his cock, the walls of your cunt fluttering beautifully on his length. And the contraction pushes him to release, his essence captured in the condom to prevent a spill.
Pants and groans fill the hot space between you two, and Gojo kisses your shoulder as the shockwaves die down with every passing second. A wave of calm covers your body while exhaustion crawls up your spine. You lift your head from his shoulder, and he's met with the most beautiful dazed expression he's ever seen.
"Heh, I should drink with you more often if it means I see you like this." He kisses your nose, and you smile.
"Oh, shut up," you remark breathlessly, and your lips meet his. He kisses you without hesitation, bringing you with him as he lies back on the bed. The sounds of his lips smacking with yours fill the room with a romantic glow, and it stays that way even when slumber claims you both.
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
You're woken up by some sort of light on your eyelids and the sound of birds chirping. With a few blinks, your eyes open and are met with the sun's glaring rays peeking through the blind of the hotel window. Begrudgingly, you rise from the mattress and stretch your fatigued limbs. A massive headache greets your head without your consent, pounding it like a drum. The sheet above you slips from your figure, and you find out you slept bare nude.
Too flustered for exhaustion to take control, you grab the sheet to cover your chest, afraid that someone would've seen. The headache vanishes into thin air as you whip and search the room. But there's no one here? And you then notice the blue flannel on the side next to you. The side of the man you were on a date with.
Wait? I was with Gojo last night, right? Questions of the night prior finally come to you. Okay, wait, we went to that diner. Then we had those cocktails, which was a bad idea on my part. So what else? Oh. We kissed. Yeah...we kissed...then I got in his car and drove to this hotel room, and then...And then we.....we—
Unable to complete that thought, a sudden click catches your attention, whipping your head to the hotel door to see it open. And there he is.
Gojo enters the room with his clothes back on, his white tee and black jeans. His shades now block the beautiful eyes you had seen last night — perhaps it was a fever dream, imagining that you did see them. He's holding a paper cup, which you could only assume was tea or coffee. When he notices you, he greets you with a smile.
"Well, good morning, sunshine~" his tone gets chipper the closer he walks to the bed. Placing the cup on the bedside before grabbing for his flannel. "I brought you some tea since I'm sure your throat is sore from last night," your face heats up at the comment. "Plus, I didn't want to leave you empty-handed before I head out."
You blink at him. "You're leaving?"
"Yeah, sorry about that. Remember my friend I told you about last night?" You nod at him while he ties his blue clothing around his waist. "He texted me earlier, saying something came up with one of our other closer friends, and they need my help. He tried calling me, so I had to leave the room to let you sleep."
You hum at his confession. "I see..." How considerate.
"Hey," He climbs on the bed to be close to you. "Sorry that I can't take you back home or treat you to breakfast or something. Maybe next time."
Now that he's close to you like this, you can make out the implications of his eyes behind his dark sunglasses, blue orbs honed in on you and you alone. Your cheeks gradually go warm. "Next time?" You didn't mean for it to be a whisper, too entranced to notice.
He chuckles at your comment, and you swear your heart's beating irregularly. "Yeah, princess. I'd love to see you next time." He draws closer to kiss your forehead, and it takes every nerve in your body to not melt then and there. He then removes himself from the bed, the dent returning to normal now that his weight is off.
Gojo straightens himself and turns away from you. "Alright, I'm off. I'll leave my hotel card by the door. Text me if you need money for an Uber, 'kay?" You hear the door open. "Be good, ya hear!?" He shouts to you from the other side of the room, practically already in the hallway.
"Same to you!" You reply back in the same manner.
"No promises~." And with that comes the sound of the door closing, confirming your isolation in the now quiet hotel room. You're left to properly rekindle everything that led you up to this point, yet even then, you feel so at a loss.
As far as blind dates go — or dates in general — it's safe to say that this was the most bizarre one you've had. Not because anything dire happened. And that's probably the reason why it felt so surreal. You came into this date to release yourself from the shackles of a bet, knowing that you wouldn't see the end of it from your friend if you didn't take care of it with haste.
Nevertheless, thanks to Gojo, it didn't feel like a bet. Not at all. It felt like an actual, fun date with a new person. With a great person at that. Not once did you express any uncomfortable feelings or ill will towards Gojo. And if you did, you're sure he tended to your worries without your knowing.
"I'd love to see you next time."
His words ring in your ear once more, and they resume to do so when you exit from the bed to grab your bag on the chair next to you. You grasp the most necessary item inside — your diary — and sit at the hotel room desk to document your concluding statements appropriately.
...What happened last night was something that I had no vision of seeing. So, now that it did happen, I just feel a little...empty? Probably because I took care of Nobara's bet and don't have to worry about going on another date again.
But, deep down, a part of me wants to do it all again — Not with just anyone, but with him. What we shared yesterday was one of the most refreshing days I've had all summer. Although he was a bit childish for his mature age, maybe that made me like him even more. He was kind to me, funny, and, dare I say, an attractive guy, both in personality and physical appearance.
Thanks for the date, Satoru Gojo. And if you wish to see me again, any time at any place, know that my heart will accept with glee.
˚₊‧꒰ა Bonus ☆ Scene!! ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Gojo exits the hotel room and walks down the hall to the elevator, whistling a tune that only he could understand. He presses the button to summon the machine to his floor, and it comes in a few seconds with the soft ding to mark its risen state. And before Gojo could fully get inside, he sensed his phone vibrating in his right jean pocket.
He grabs for it and stops whistling, tapping on the green call button and placing the device to his ear as the elevator doors close. "Morning, you man-bunned prick."
"It's midday, you blue-eyed sheep." A voice comes from the other side of his phone. "Judging by how you didn't know that, you went out last night, didn't you?"
"That's none of your business~," the white-haired man says in a sing-song manner.
"Shut the hell up~," The one on the phone returns the sentiment. "It's not like I don't know practically every person you screwed in the streets with."
The elevator door opens to the main floor, and Gojo exits to head for the entrance. "Yeah, yeah. I will say this: I had a great time with them."
"You say this about everyone who opens their legs for you."
Gojo sucks his teeth. "Well, this one really had me enjoying myself from start to finish. They were fun to be around. Shit, they even made me drink alcohol."
"Really? And you didn't barf on the spot?"
"Fuck off, Suguru." The one from the phone line — now named Suguru — chuckled at the curse thrown his way. Gojo walks out to the parking lot and enters his car. The phone call is transferred to the car's Bluetooth when the engine starts. "I don't know...They were just great to be around, ya know? Haven't had that in a while."
Suguru hums, vibrating the car with the bass systems. "Think you wanna hang with them again?"
"Mmmmm, I'd like to."
The one on the phone chuckles. "Well, don't get to whipped. Especially since you promised to be at Shoko's beach house this month, we don't want you canceling on us again because someone scheduled you for a dick appointment."
Gojo smirks at the comment. "Yeah, I won't. You'll see me." A few seconds of silence follow through until Suguru asks another question to his friend.
"So? How was the sex this time around?"
With a twinge to his lips, Gojo snickers to himself from reminiscing about the events of last night.
"Man, let me tell you..."
#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑭𝒊𝒄𝒔#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#satoru x reader#gojo satoru fanfic#gojo fic#gojo x poc reader#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#gojo x black reader#jjk fanfic
847 notes
·
View notes