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noonecareslol · 1 month ago

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࣪˖ ִ ೀ 𝐀 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

Hwang In-ho x Fem! Reader

Summary: When the games aren’t in session, and In-ho is lonely, he finds himself in the first row at the ballet. Watching you. Suddenly he's falling in love.

TW: Channeling my love for older men. Injury. Reader lowkey gets sad for a sec. Age gap (reader is 25 In-ho is 49). Just FLUFF! In-ho learning how to love someone again. Quite literally head over heels for you. Allusions to masturbation. Size kink if you squint.

WC! 5k Part 2! -> here!

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It is quite obvious that In-ho is an old soul.

He enjoys old films, old clothing, old theatre, and old music. The little jazz set that plays, “Fly Me To The Moon” is a cherished possession of his, along with his vintage whiskey decanter.

He wears a musky cologne he’d been gifted by his late wife, and his closet is lined with leather dress shoes and perfectly pressed slacks. His dimly lit room on the island is vastly similar to the one in his Seoul apartment, everything perfectly neat and clean.

Yes, In-ho is an old soul.

And in between the games, when he would return to Seoul, he’d find himself bored. Especially during the night. He’d miss his wife, the whispered hope of a promised future.

Often he would distract himself by putting his whiskey decanter to good use, pouring the aged whiskey into his glass over and over again. He would linger by his shelf full of movies he’d seen hundreds of times, tracing his fingers along the cases until he landed on a title. A small smile would play on his lips before popping it into the DVD player and taking a seat next to his beloved cat.

He would find himself mumbling the lines as the actors spoke them on screen, his hand absentmindedly petting his cat. When the movie is over, and the quiet resumes, he’d move to his bedroom.

He’d ensure his cat followed before changing into his expensive pajamas and climbing into the king-sized bed. His cat would join him and he would drift to sleep, dreaming of, well, nothing.

He would close his eyes and wake up without any dream having occupied his mind.

This routine became comfortable. Each night he would get home from whatever he’d been doing before, drink, watch a movie, play with his cat, and sleep without any dreams.

But this night, this night was different.

It was a cold night. And all In-ho wanted to do was drown in glasses of whiskey and watch “Dial ‘M’ For Murder” with his cat.

But as he walked past a line of people waiting to enter a theatre, a poster caught his attention. He blinked once, twice, before walking toward the lit-up frame.

A strikingly beautiful ballerina caught his attention first. She held her arms elegantly above her head, her leg pointed behind her, her other leg resting on pointe as she looked to the side. She was breathtaking.

The Seoul Ballet Company Presents: Swan Lake

Opening Night November 1st

Suddenly the thought of whiskey and Alfred Hitchcock left his mind as he joined the line. I mean, who would miss out on opening night?

Especially when the lead was so pretty.

“We have one ticket left in the front row.” The woman behind the ticket booth clicked her pen unenthusiastically as she watched In-ho pull his leather vintage wallet out of his coat pocket.

A grin rested plainly on his lips as he fiddled with his cash, “That’s perfect. How much?”

The woman slowly turned and punched a few numbers into her register before turning back to him, “80,000 won.” She clicked her pen again.

“Do you have change for 100,000?” He held the two 50,000 won in front of him, watching as she stared at him blankly.

She blinked once before snatching the bills from his hands, “Nope!” In-ho sighed. For someone so slow she took those bills awfully fast.

In-ho drew his lips into a thin line before taking the ticket and placing it in his wallet, “Thanks.”

“Yeah enjoy the show or, like, whatever.” The woman took out her phone and began to text as he walked away, obviously not giving a shit about her job.

But as In-ho walked through the double doors, his breath caught in his throat. The theatre certainly did not disappoint his love for old architecture.

The large barrel vaulted ceilings were beautifully ornamented and adorned with intricately painted designs. Gorgeous crown molding edged the ceiling and stretched to the floor. And a large crystal chandelier rested as the centerpiece, warmly lit and inviting.

In-ho took his seat, a smile evident on his lips as he sighed contently. However, he hoped his cat wasn’t too worried about his whereabouts. Maybe she could come along next time? She is a very sophisticated cat, after all.

As the chandelier and house lights began to dim, the crowd became quiet with anticipation and excitement. And it would be dishonest to say that In-ho wasn’t a little excited as well.

He looked to his left at the woman sitting next to him. She was a small elderly lady with a pair of glasses perched on the tip of her nose. Her eyes were filled with excitement as she scanned through the pamphlet, a wide smile plastered on her face.

She wore a vintage necklace around her neck, layered with pearls. In-ho smiled, it was nice to see someone who also had a knack for old taste.

The soft notes of Swan Lake began to play, and In-ho watched as the curtains opened, revealing the beautifully decorated stage. Large trees with hanging vines arched over the set, greenery and flowers blending into the painted backdrop.

A foggy mist flooded the stage as dancers began to move elegantly across. But the lead had yet to make an appearance.

In-ho watched rather impatiently, and failed to notice the woman next to him lean in, “Right now, the prince is going hunting with his crossbow. But he will find that the white swan has turned into a beautiful woman, and has fallen under a curse.” The old woman pointed slightly to the prince, her voice whispering just loud enough for him to hear.

His eyes trained on the prince as he danced with his crossbow, “Thank you. I must look confused.”

The old lady gave a small laugh, “I used to dance for this company, i’ll never miss an opportunity to explain the ballet.”

In-ho watches as she subtly mimics the prince's moves, her hands moving elegantly in front of her. Her eyes were closed, the sound of the music bringing emotion to her face.

Her eyes flick open as the music changes softly, “Look.” Her eyes lighting up as she nods slightly to the stage.

In-ho watches as you finally take the stage, fluttering your feet as you move elegantly toward the prince. Your hands held high above your head, moving gracefully as you bourrée.

He watched as your back muscles contracted, moving as if you had wings. His eyes trained down to your legs and to your pointe shoes, watching as you danced with ease.

Your white feathered skirt moved along with you, the bodice elegantly framing you perfectly. The feathered piece in your hair catches In-ho’s attention, causing him to study your face.

That poster was nothing compared to your beauty.

You held a soft look, but In-ho didn’t fail to notice the focus that caused your eyebrows to furrow slightly. Your movements were soft and graceful, your demeanor innocent and melancholic.

You were perfect as the white swan.

You were perfect.

He wondered if you were just as innocent as you portray yourself to be, “God, she’s beautiful.”

The elderly woman hummed in agreement as she watched In-ho’s gaze remain sharp on the white swan, an all-knowing smile spread across her lips.

As the ballet continued it seemed that the rest of the audience had disappeared. In-ho felt as if you were only dancing for him. No one else.

He swore you looked at him a few times, him being the focus point of your graceful turns.

And when you transitioned into the black swan, all thoughts in In-ho’s head became dark.

Oh, how he liked this side of you.

Your movements were sharp, determined, and seductive. And he found himself adjusting in his seat as his slacks became increasingly tight. You were so close to him. Just a few feet from his touch as you danced on stage. He could take you right now. He could fuck you, make you feel things you’ve never felt before.

And as you leaped on the stage, the white swan jumping to her death, In-ho felt a tear slip from his eye. You were magnificent.

The audience filed out of the theatre, fanning themselves with their pamphlets and discussing the ballet. You had received a standing ovation, and In-ho took pride in being the first one to stand and clap.

He had finally caught your attention. And when you locked eyes with him as you bowed, you felt your brain turn to mush.

He was handsome. Like, extremely handsome.

His face was perfectly chiseled. His eyes crinkled as he flashed a perfect smile, his hair slightly falling in front of his face and covering his dark eyes.

You didn’t blink once as you remained under his gaze, and it wasn’t until another dancer pulled you up that you realized you were bowing for far too long.

You avoided his eye contact as you walked off, embarrassed he had made you turn into putty just by his stare.

And as In-ho exited the theatre, he took his time lingering by the lamp post. He’d secretly hoped to see you leave.

He doesn’t know what he would say if he did see you. Maybe he would compliment you, or ask you a meaningless question. Or maybe, just maybe, he’d push you against the lamppost, and let his desire consume you.

He’d just wait a little bit longer.

10 minutes.

15 minutes.

30 minutes.

The woman from behind the ticket booth locked the door as she brought down the metal gate, “Excuse me, did the woman who danced as the white swan leave yet?”

She turned around smacking her gum, “Yeah. Why?” She sized him up, placing a hand on her hip as she cocked an eyebrow.

In-ho felt his face flush, “I was just going to compliment her.” He put his cold hands in the pockets of his coat, shifting his weight onto his other foot.

“Yeah well,” The woman smacks her gum as she walks up towards In-ho, handing him a flier, “They have open practice every Friday. Tickets are only 10,000 won.”

He took the flier from her hand, folding it and sliding it into his pocket, “Thanks.” She nodded her head and walked past him, slipping into her jacket.

In-ho turned and started his walk to his apartment only a block away. When he arrived, he heard the familiar sound of meowing by his front door.

And as he opened the door, he came face to face with his cat waiting on the couch, “I’m sorry Elisabeth, but I’m too tired for a movie tonight.”

She gave an annoyed meow before reluctantly following him into his room, hopping onto the pillow beside his. In-ho got dressed in his pajamas, ready for another dreamless night as he slipped into the sheets next to Elisabeth.

But this time, it wasn't dreamless.

In fact, he had dreamed a very vivid dream.

He had dreamt of you.

And as In-ho woke up the next morning, his hand immediately went to his nightstand, picking up the flier.

It seems that the pretty ballerina has stolen his heart.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

"Plié! Ron de jambe, retiré! Good!" You held your arms in front of you, your right leg coming up at a bend, "Pas de chat, écarté! Don't rush it, Fiona!"

Your ballet teacher weaved between you and the other students, her tight bun sitting perfectly on her pointed head, "Développé, demi-pointe! No! Not pointe, demi pointe!"

Her thick French accent bellowed throughout the theatre, "Good y/n! Très bien!" A wide smile painted your lips as you continued your dance, your friend Fiona rolling her eyes at your praise. You giggled as you went into second, your arms outstretched to the side.

"Well done! Take a water break and stretch, we'll take five." You brought your hands to your knees, leaning over slightly as you caught your breath.

Fiona dramatically flopped on her back, a hand coming to her forehead as she breathed heavily, "I've died, she's killed me." You tossed her water bottle into her hand with a laugh as you sat next to her, your eyes scanning the theatre.

Familiar faces met your eyes. Elderly couples, former dancers, and little kids with their moms. Oh! And the man who you haven't stopped thinking about.

Wait.

You hit Fiona's shoulder hard, not taking your eyes off him, "Fiona. Fiona, look." She sat up, holding her shoulder as her eyes trailed to where you were subtly pointing.

"Oh, it's the hot dilf." Fiona took a drink from her bottle, watching as In-ho looked around while taking in the architecture.

You slapped her shoulder again, "Shut up! What if he hears you?" You get up from the ground, pulling Fiona up with you and tossing your water bottle back into your bag.

She followed suit, taking one last drink before tossing it in her own, "First off, stop hitting me. It's abuse." You rolled your eyes as you both took your spot by the barre, "Second, he's in the back corner of the theatre, he's not hearing shit. Except for our teacher's constant yelling."

You didn't respond, instead, you continued looking at him. His black turtle neck sweater hugged his biceps perfectly, and you didn't fail to notice his empty finger where a ring would sit.

"Okay! Lets continue! Tendu, plié! Ron de jambe, plié!"

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It had been two months since In-ho first started spending his Fridays pining over you.

Each Friday, he would come home, change into an outfit he had dry-cleaned and pressed, feed Elisabeth, and head to the Theatre. He would take his spot in the far left corner, and watch as you danced and laughed with your friends.

He found himself looking forward to Fridays. Which is strange, because he's never looked forward to anything before. Well, besides the games. But he had been so focused on you, that he had fallen behind on his work. Something he'd never done before.

You plagued his mind.

He dreams of you. When he's asleep and awake. He'd find himself walking by the Theatre on other days when you were practicing, hoping to see a glimpse of you.

He found himself listening to Etta James and Nat King Cole more often than not. 'A Sunday Kind Of Love' and 'Unforgettable' filing his apartment as he cooked his dinners. 'My Fair Lady' and 'Gone With The Wind' replacing his classic mystery movies.

He even found himself stopping by flower boutiques, smelling the tulips and Orchids. He wonders what your favorite flower is. Perhaps it is Lilies, the flower that represents innocence and purity.

He wondered a lot if you were a virgin. Often imagining the feeling of your body under his large one late at night when he can't sleep, and when his hand finds itself under his pants.

You had him wrapped around your pretty little finger and you didn't even know it.

Vice Versa, you found yourself looking forward to Fridays as well.

It was the only day you could see the stranger who you had been thinking about constantly.

You liked his style, the way he carried himself with a confidence that intimidated you. His large frame towered over everyone, and he stood out from the crowd. He was perfect. It was as if god himself sculpted him with his own hands.

And oh my god.

You were down bad.

Fiona constantly teased you about it. Making fun of how you stopped wearing your loose cover-up, "Im just hot, that's all Fiona. It's warm in here." You lied. And Fiona was obviously aware of that.

You started offering to stay late with your teacher and help clean up, hoping to catch the stranger before he left. But your teacher always insisted you should go home and rest, and who were you to disobey her.

You've always been perfect. At school, at dance, at everything. When auditions came for Swan Lake, there was no question in anyone's mind about who would get the lead.

But since opening night, things have been slightly different. You often got distracted during practice, your eyes always finding the man in the back corner. You started falling out of your turns, forgetting to bring your pointe shoes, and, worse of all, you had been forgetting to point your toes.

And here you were. Walking to the center of the stage, ready to run through your variation in front of everyone. It was an easy variation, but the end was complicated. You had to do several pirouettes, which you have always been good at. But today you decided to test yourself.

You knew your teacher was becoming increasingly disappointed in you, it plagued your every thought. So, as you spun perfectly, you decided to see how many pirouettes you could perform.

17, 18, 19, 20.

Your leg is wobbling, but you choose to ignore it.

21, 22, 23-

You hear Fiona call your name as your foot slips out of pointe, twisting as you fall on top of it, "Oh my god!" The sickening sound of your ankle cracking causes your heart to drop. The stinging feeling of tears replaced by the overwhelming pain that was now shooting up your leg.

Everyone huddles around you as the teacher runs to call an ambulance, but Fiona kneels at your side, "I know this isn't the right time but, the dilf is running over here right now."

You close your eyes, trying to control your rapid breathing. You wished the stage would open around you and swallow you whole, just put you out of your misery.

In-ho jumps with ease onto the stage, his sweater sleeves rolled up to his elbow, "Move." He pushes past the dancers huddling over you and grabs your face.

Your eyes flick open at the feeling of warm hands pressed against your cheeks. Oh my god, he was holding your face. Your heart fluttered but you didn't notice, you were too worried about the fact that your ankle was bent the wrong way.

In-ho's hand softly brushes over your ankle, causing you to wince. At first, he's skeptical about touching you. Was it too fast? Too sudden? Too bold?

But he didn't have time to think it over as he put his strong arms under you, lifting you gently as he stood. Fiona watched with a smirk on her face as she saw shock fill your eyes, his biceps flexing as he pulled you close to his chest.

Without a word, In-ho steps down from the stage and carries you through the exit, "I have an ambulance coming!" Your teacher ran after him yelling, her typically neat bun somewhat loose and frizzy now.

In-ho motions to his pocket and Fiona responds, grabbing his car key and unlocking his Mercedez-benz, "It will take too long. I'll drive her."

For a split second, you catch his eye, and you could've sworn to god your pain disappeared for a moment. And if it were a different circumstance, In-ho would kiss you. He would kiss you right here with you in his arms.

But the shared look was short-lived as he very carefully sets you in the passenger seat, buckling your seatbelt gently. Your ballet teacher leans down to the window, "Don't worry! Fiona can dance for you!"

Your heart shattered.

And tears began to flood. You ignored In-ho's words of reassurance as he took off, speeding to the hospital. The drive was quiet except for your soft cries. And In-ho wanted nothing more than to cradle you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear.

"Im sorry im getting your car dirty." You looked at the tear-stained headrest you laid against, wiping your sore eyes with the back of your hand.

In-ho cuts a car off as he turns, ignoring the beeps from the angry driver, "It's okay. I have another one." The subtle money brag wasn't missed by you. In-ho just wanted to impress you.

"What are you? Like a CEO or something?" You turned to face him, giving a pitiful sniffle as he gave another sharp turn.

He chuckled, and you felt your heart beat faster. Was it because of the adrenaline? Or was it because the man whom you've become obsessed with is quite literally acting like your night in shining armor, "Im... Im a game show host."

You nodded, an impressive smile growing on your face, "That's cool. Im y/n by the way."

He flashes a smile, the same smile from the night you first saw him, and a blush creeps up on your tear-stained cheeks, "You're sitting there, with a fucked up ankle, and you're making small talk?"

You suddenly feel embarrassed. He's just some random guy who happened to be in the right place at the right time, nothing more. "Sorry. Just trying to distract myself."

In-ho frowns. Did he say the wrong thing? His grip tightens on the steering wheel, "No! Don't be sorry. If I'm being honest, I've been dying to know your name."

His eyes flick to you before looking back in front of him, "Im Hwang In-ho." A small smile creeps onto his lips as he pulls to a stop in front of the ER.

"Well, Mr. Hwang, it's nice to meet you."

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

"Well, it looks like you have a fracture." You give a long exasperated sigh as the Doctor holds up the X-rays, "The fibula is fractured below the level of the syndesmosis, which is the joint between the tibia and fibula."

You look at In-ho, who, for some reason, seems more stressed than you do, "What's the healing process like? Will she need surgery?" Your head snapped to the doctor at the mention of surgery. Surgery for dancers is like a death sentence.

No. More. Dancing.

"Fractures like these are considered stable, meaning that they are unlikely to worsen with correct treatment and management. You'll just need to wear a boot for a while." The doctor noticed how your concerned look didn't falter, and gave a sigh before placing a hand on your shoulder, "You can still dance."

The breath you were holding escapes your lips as you feel a heavy weight fall off your shoulders, "Thank you so much." The doctor rubs your shoulder before leaving, instructing the nurse to fit you for a boot.

In-ho watches as you close your eyes, a smile resting on your face. He cocked his head, how could you be so beautiful in a moment like this? His eyes take a minute to trail down your body, taking you in, something he's grown fond of doing.

Your hair is a mess, your cheeks are red and tear-stained, your ankle looks like a snapped twig, and you're picking at your cuticles. But god.

You are perfect.

Just as beautiful now as you were months ago.

An unfamiliar feeling has taken over his chest ever since he saw you. A tightening, warm feeling that he hasn't felt in years. At first, he ignored it. Maybe it was just heartburn? But as it progressed, he got worried. The next thing you know a doctor is laughing in his face.

Calling it 'love'.

In-ho immediately left after he heard that, making sure to write a very passive-aggressive review on Yelp. What doctor diagnosed a patient with 'being in love'?

In-ho was not in love.

...

Right?

It wasn't until he watched 'Funny Face' that he realized the estranged doctor was correct. The moment Fred Astaire saw Aubrey Hepburn and was immediately captivated by her beauty, he knew it was true.

He didn't care that he was more than twenty years older than you, or that he had bigger things to worry about, all he cared about was you.

And that made him so confused.

You had managed to captivate his heart, soul, and body. And he felt like a teenager with his first crush all over again. So as he saw you look up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, he couldn't help what happened next.

He stood from his chair, taking large steps towards your frame. You furrowed your eyebrows as you watched him stand between your legs, careful not to hit your ankle.

His big hands reach down and grab your face, slamming your lips into his own. Your eyes grow wide, confusion flashing across your face before slowly giving in, pulling his head down lower.

His touch was gentle, the opposite of his kiss. His hands softly caressed your red cheeks, while his lips hungrily chased after your own.

You tugged at the baby hairs that rested on the back of his neck, desire and hunger feeding off you as he slipped his tongue into your pretty mouth. A low growl escaped his swollen lips, and you felt arousal begin to pool between your thighs.

You whine as he removes his hand from your face and steps back, crossing his arms. His gaze has always been intimidating. But now that he's seen you fall on your ass, cry, and melt under his touch all in one day, it is much more intimidating.

You've been vulnerable in front of him. Something you could never do before. But you didn't care if he saw your flaws, you were perfect to him.

He saw a future when he looked at you. He saw a family, something he had longed for many years ago. He saw hope, love, and promise.

He saw you.

Beautiful, perfect, irresistible you.

And as he looked at you, only one question entered his mind.

"Do you want to meet my cat?"

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

a/n: chat. its 2 am. but i am DETERMINED to post this. i just love you guys sm mwah mwah. also, wasn't in a smut mood. still getting used to writing smut LMAO.

also random disclaimer: i have never done ballet. so if any terms are wrong or if my spelling is trash PLS LMK!

@bohemiandelilah @menabuser16 @verouys @speedymagazinewhispers @metalbaby2 @nellabear @marymun @orihime188 @nanascupid @fnl9zer @chasinghxran @crystalizia @auspicious-lilana @machipyun @cdej6 @namelesslosers

#hwang inho x reader #hwang in ho #in ho x reader #squid game #squid game x reader #hwang in ho x reader #in ho #squid games #lee byung hun x reader #lee byung hun #001 x reader #young il x reader #young il #front man #front man x reader

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witherby · 2 months ago

Note

hello! great work so far :-) im getting into batfam myself and been loving the platonic/familial works you do w littlest wayne! was wondering if you'd ever do an teen y/n or just an older one? I'd love to see you tackle the idea of a robin y/n or jaybe just some angsty kid stuff,,,,,, hope you had a good new years!

-- :33Anon

I love angst with my whole heart and soul, and I'm happy to write it with a slightly older Reader. Hope you don't mind I've commandeered your prompt to showcase the ability you guys voted on.

This one's a long read so I'm splitting it up. This part is roughly 2400+ words.

The Littlest Wayne: Uncertain Home

(Part 1/2)

Masterlist is Here!

Uncle J'onn is looking at you curiously.

He's been doing that a lot, lately. When Daddy brings you to the Watchtower to be babysat so he can go save the world, one of his co-workers that they can afford to spare gets put in charge of keeping an eye on you. Usually it's Uncle Hal, but this time it's J'onn and he's in his natural form, which you don't mind. Green is your favorite color, and his whole body is green! He's nice and calm, and tells you lots of stories and plays any game you want, even if it's hard for him not to cheat and read your mind. He says it's instinct. You don't hold it against him because you still have fun.

Lately, though, when he talks to you, he tilts his head a bit. He usually does that when he can't understand something.

You wipe your face, checking for cookie crumbs. All clean. You search your shirt for any weird marks or stains. All clean. You scrunch your nose and puff out your cheeks, pouting.

"What's wrong, uncle J'onny?" You ask him. Daddy says the way to get honest answers from someone is just to be forthcoming (Dicky told you what forthcoming meant when you asked him later), so you are. "Did I do something wrong?"

That seems to snap his train of thought. J'onn shakes his head and goes back to sorting out the jigsaw puzzle pieces for you. You're good enough at this to do 100-piece puzzles, now, and when you get really stuck you don't even cry anymore!

"Nothing is wrong, Flittermouse," he says, watching you start putting the edges together first like Dami taught you. "You are simply...changing. Differences are not inherently wrong."

"What's inherably mean?"

"Inherently. It means instinctively, or something that is "set in stone." A rule that does not change. I am stating that change is not something that is always wrong. It's not a firm rule."

You pout and try to process all of that in your brain. It was a partial answer. Daddy says that means people might want to hide something from you.

"What's changing?" You ask him. "I got older a week ago. Is that what you mean? I'm four, now. Grandpappy says I'm getting so big and growed up. He says to not do that so fast. I dunno how, though. He's silly."

J'onn hums. His eyes look away from you as he considers what to say. You put one whole edge together before he speaks again.

"You know that I am not a human, correct?"

"Yeah, I know," you say. "I don't care. I love you. And auntie Diana. And uncle Clark. And uncle Barry. And —"

"Thank you," J'onn gently interrupts. "Do you also know that, sometimes, humans are born not entirely human? That sometimes they get special abilities?"

"Yeah, I know that," you repeat.

"I suspect that —" he cuts himself off, hesitates, then starts again. "Little one. You are showing signs of being one of those humans with special abilities."

"I am?" You ask. You perk up. "Can I fly?!"

You immediately abandon the puzzle and climb onto your chair, about to jump off of it to try and fly around, but J'onn catches you by the back of your shirt before you can hit the ground.

"You cannot."

"Aww...then I don't wanna be a megahuman," you complain, stomping your foot.

"Metahuman."

"Whatever."

"I am sorry," J'onn says, "I did not mean to upset you. I do think you are developing powers, however."

"Not fly powers?" You frown.

"No, not flight powers."

"Boring," you say, blowing raspberries. J'onn cracks a smile at your antics and you giggle. "Help me do the puzzle, please!"

"Alright," he relents, sorting more pieces for you. You're both quiet for a while, and you get the whole frame done before he speaks again.

"Little one. Do you know your father's rule about metahumans?"

"Yeah," you say, grinning, because you're a great listener. You pitch your voice down and make it scratchy. It's adorable in your four-year-old tone. "No metas in Gotham. I am Nighttime. Raaahhh."

J'onn huffs in amusement. "Right. He usually means what he says, does he not?"

"Yeah," you agree, "daddy is a bad liar. He lied and said he didn't eated the last cookie once, but he did eated it. Alfie was mad, 'cause it was for Dami, but Dami didn't care. He likes brownies more than cookies. I like brownies, too."

"I figured," J'onn says. He's not looking at you again. This time he's frowning.

"Do you want brownies?" You ask, figuring that was the issue. "I don't have any. I can ask for some when Daddy comes back. I'm good at sharing, 'cause I'm a good noodle, like Jay says."

"No, but thank you for offering to share. Jason is right, you are a good noodle."

You preen. "I know!"

J'onn drops the subject again and helps you complete the puzzle. You squint at every piece in concentration and politely ask him if he can dim the lights so you can work better. He complies, and after another hour and a half, you have a completed image on the table.

"Yay! We did it!"

The sounds of chatter and footsteps appear down the hall moments later, and you spring to your feet in delight.

"Hello!!!" You shout.

A chorus of "hello!" greets you in return from multiple heroes, and the rest of the Justice League files into the room one by one. They don't look too roughed up, so the mission wasn't very dangerous. That's good. You stand by the door and offer them hugs. Everyone complies, to your endless delight.

"Daddy!" You cheer when you see him, running and hugging Batman's legs. He scoops you into his arms and you grin and point at the table. "Uncle J'onny and I dided a whole puzzle! I didn't give up!"

"Good job, Mouse," Bruce says, reaching out to adjust the light. "You did it in the dark?"

"Yeah," you grin, kicking your feet. "Did you punch bad guys?"

"I did."

"Did you win?"

"Yes."

"Can we have ice cream?"

"Maybe after dinner." He carries you down the hall and towards his temporary quarters, the place he'll stay after a particularly tough mission when he can't make it home right away, and deposits you gently on the bed. "I have to debrief with everyone, and then we can pack up and go home."

"Okay, daddy," you say, already digging through the nightstand for a toy to play with. "I stay right here!"

"Good job," he says again, kissing the top of your head, and leaves you alone with a small wave.

The next time you need to be at the Watchtower, it's with Uncle Clark and Auntie Diana. The mission wasn't a super dangerous one, so they both got to stay behind and entertain you.

Today, you're a cashier at your world-famous grocery store. You have the best ingredients all over the world.

"Welcome to the groshy store, what do you want stranger?" You demand, getting into character. Clark looks mildly offended.

"Whoa, hello. That's a lot of 'tude for a paying customer," he says.

"You didn't buy nothing yet! Whataya want!"

"Uh. Some carrots please."

"All out."

Clark narrows his eyes at you. "Can you check in the back?"

You turn around. You turn back.

"All out. Whataya want!"

"You barely looked!" He insists.

"FRESH OUTTA CARROTS, BUB. WHATAYA WANT."

"Oh my goodness, now there's yelling. I think I need to speak to a manager."

"Okay!" You shuffle across the room and grab Diana's hand, leading her back to Clark. "This is the manager. Auntie, tell him all the carrots are gone. He can't have any."

Diana covers her mouth to stifle her laughter. "You heard them, stranger. There are no carrots here."

"Well, aside from the blatant nepotism, auntie, I think you're hiding the carrots from me," Clark huffs, crossing his arms. "I need them for my soup. Guess I'll go to the grocery store across town. I hear they're nicer."

"No," you gasp, "wait. Okay maybe I have one secret carrot. I go get it."

You leave their giggling forms and run over to the toy box that was set up for you on the watch tower, thrusting your hands inside to dig around. You squint your eyes, but all the bright colors are hard to distinguish properly. In the dark spaces, deeper into the box, is where you cast your focus. Instinctively, you follow the trail and close your hand around a plastic carrot. You lift your hand triumphantly.

"Okay, got it!" You cry, only to startle when you find both Clark and Diana kneeling beside your toy chest. Diana picks you up around the waist and takes several steps back, and Clark's eyes turn that funny shade of blue they do when he's using x-ray vision. "Umm, I gotted the carrot already. It's in my hand."

"Are you injured?" Diana asks you, expression deadly serious. You frown and shake your head. "You're certain? I could sense something in that box with you."

"No, I'm fine," you promise. Clark stands up and his eyes go back to normal. He shrugs, brows furrowed.

"There's nothing in there but toys."

"Yeah," you nod, "toys and dark spots."

Both heroes look at you. You squirm in Diana's hold shyly.

"Um, want to pay for the carrot?" You ask, holding it up. "It's only ten dollars. Orrr one lollipop." You whisper conspiratorially. "I can be bribed."

Diana and Clark exchange glances. Clark gingerly takes the carrot from you and puts it back in the toy box.

"Sold. Let's go to the kitchen and pick out which flavor you want."

You grin, forgetting about the game, and Diana puts you on the ground so you can follow excitedly after them. With a couple "pretty please's" and your lethal puppy dog eyes, you even manage to get two lollipops. You ask to be hoisted onto the counter so you can swing your feet as you enjoy the candy, and both heroes perch on either side of you.

It's quiet for a while. It feels like that weird, anticipatory quiet you felt with Uncle J'onny, but you don't know what for, so you wait for one of them to speak. You finish off one whole sucker and open the second one when it happens.

"Mouse?" Clark eventually asks, "can you explain what you meant about your toys? That there are dark spots in there?"

"Yeah," you say, "shadows. Dark spots. Light not touching."

"And you can...feel shadows?"

You hum, thinking it over. "Um...yes. Kind of."

Clark and Diana look at each other again. They're frowning. You frown.

"Can you tell us what you mean by that?" She asks.

"Um. I wanted the carrot, for uncle Clark," you say, "so he can buy it at my groshy store. And the dark spots showed me where it was, and I grabbed it."

"Did they also help you complete the jigsaw puzzle, when you were with J'onn?" Diana asks. "It was quite dark when we got back." You nod.

"Yeah. Easier to do in the dark. It's not cheating!" You blurt. "I didn't cheated!"

"Okay, ya' didn't cheat," Clark agrees, gently patting your back. There's a slight drawl in his words which usually shows up when he's stressed out. "We're just curious, is all, darlin'. Seems you've got a... A special talent, we can call it."

"It's a power. They're a metahuman, Kal," Diana says simply, "and you know Bruce's rule."

The rule? Which one? Always brushing your teeth before bedtime? Or maybe no sweets until you finish your dinner? Hmm, but you haven't had dinner yet. That doesn't make sense.

"No metas in Gotham. I'm very aware, Diana."

"Then you see the problem."

Oh. Now you think you know why uncle J'onny was upset that day.

"Now wait a minute," Clark says. He looks genuinely angry, which confuses you. Did they not like that you could ask the dark for help? They had superpowers, too. You figured they would be happy. "They're his kid."

You are. You're Daddy's little Flittermouse, scampering around and bringing joy. That's what everyone tells you. They love you.

"You've seen how hard he works to keep us out of Gotham," Diana says. "We can be trusted to babysit, but we can't enter the city? What does that tell you?"

"That's different. He's territorial, we all know that. He's not a monster, Diana. He would never hurt them —"

"I'm not saying he is. I'm not saying he would. But I am saying that he doesn't bend his own rules. He does not make exceptions."

Oh.

You sit almost numbly on the counter and watch Clark and Diana start to argue over your place in Gotham. Over your place at home.

You think about Daddy's rule about no metas in Gotham. You think about your new ability to interact with shadows.

Oh.

The lollipop tastes like ash on your tongue and the tips of your fingers feel like tv static. When you blink, your eyes sting as they well up with tears. You've been so good about not throwing fits, about not being a crybaby, about being as strong as your super cool daddy and brothers and grandpa.

But you can't call them that anymore, can you? They don't want metas in Gotham, and that's what you are, now. You can't live with your family anymore.

Large, fat tears roll down your cheeks and your bottom lip wobbles. You whimper and both Diana and Clark whip their heads around to look at you in shock.

"No, oh no, don't cry," Diana coos, "you don't need to worry. Your father isn't —"

You bat her hands away when she reaches for you and jump off the counter, running underneath Clark's cape. They don't catch on to what you're doing in time.

Clark practically rips it off and fans it on the floor, floating above it with wide eyes. Diana kneels next to the fabric and frantically pats it, searching for you.

But there's nothing. You've fled into the shadow Clark's body cast and allowed the darkness to swallow you.

#batfam x reader #littlest wayne au #justice league x reader #j'onn j'onzz #diana of themyscira #clark kent #did we all see that dig i made on lantern? i did a little hehehe when i wrote it

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angelfrombeneth · 1 year ago

Text

JUST LIKE YOUR BOYFRIEND - T . NOTT

Mature Content Ahead

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Theodore are the new IT couple in Hogwarts. Theo's known for always causing up a stir but never you. Atleast you do yours in private. It isn't until your faced with Skylar Snaggle, the one girl you can't stand that you break that streak.

Warnings: Girl Fight, Smut talked about but not in detail, Blood kink Theo if you squint, Fluffy Theo and Reader, Soft boyfriend Theo

A/N: This isn't a huge fic more of a short. Merry Christmas to you all and those who don't celebrate it, I hope ur having a lovely day anyway!

Y/N Neveah. Many people loved you, many people didn't.

You were always the talk of the school for being so nice yet being in Slytherin. Boys fawned over you, some girls loved you but most hated you. School bitchiness was not for the faint hearted and you learnt that early on.

Skylar Snaggle, a ravenclaw who always had it out for you. It's like she was jealous of you and everything you did. Constantly side eyeing you and digging at you. You ignored her didn't let it get to you but fuck, was she a bitch. It only got worse when you starting dating your boyfriend.

You were in 6th year now, the past two years everytime you'd come back boys again would fawn over you how you've 'blossomed' over the summer but you belonged to one man. And that man was.

"Cara mia" You turned around smiling as Theo stood beside your locker. You took his hand smiling as you pecked his lips softly.

"I missed you... all of you" He raised his eyebrows as you rolled your eyes and hit his arm.

"Don't be crude" You fixed your tie before shutting your locker and holding his hand and walking down the corridor.

You and Theo were the hot new goss at Hogwarts. The current IT couple, consisting of the hot brood of Slytherin himself, Theodore Nott and the much desired but never achievable Y/n Neveah.

"Here's the lovely couple now" Blaise clasps his hands as the group turn to you both.

"Do we have to announce it" You grit your teeth, grimacing at Blaise. You felt Theo chuckled beside you, his soft laugh filling your ears making the corner of your mouth turn up slightly.

"You did that yourself, sucking face in the back of charms" Enzo snickered.

"True- Anyway we were planning on heading into Hogsmead. We need to stock up on fire whisky with the game against Hufflepuff fast approaching we'll need alot for our celebrations" Blaise smirked, nudging at Daphne as she scoffed at his cockiness.

"You guys might not even win" She panned.

"Don't be ridiculous Daph, when has Hufflepuff ever fucking won" Draco let out a genuine laugh at Daphne's wild assumption. The other boys laughing along with him too.

"As much as we'd love to come to Hogsmead. Daph, Pansy and I were planning on meeting with Astoria to have a little girlie evening swim" You smiled to Pansy and Daphne as you all smiled at eachother.

"Boring" Draco yawned.

"Hardly boring Draco, they'll hardly be wearing anything" Mattheo smirked. A alight blush appearing across Theo's cheek at the thought.

Pansy smacked Mattheo hard with her wand into his chest, earing a sharp 'ow' from the boy. "Don't be disgusting"

"Have fun at Hogsmead though!" Pansy giggled as the three of you began to walk off.

"Wait-" Theo grabbed your hand as you turned to him.

"Have fun, be safe" He smiled before pecking your lips.

"Aww cute" Daphne cooed.

You ruffled Theo's hair softly before walking off with the girls.

"You and Theodore are so cute, I'm so jealous!" Pansy whined as the three of you walked down the hall.

"Blaise isn't even cute like that, it sucks!" Daphne groaned.

"Stop it" You shook your head.

Later in the evening you and the girls relaxed by the black lake taking a light swim with eachorher, gossiping and catching up on the latest with one another.

Finding out that Luna and Pansy have been flirting. Astoria is finally willing to settle down with Draco and stop keeping him on his toes. Daphne describing in great detail her intimate life with Blaise which - to be fair you didn't expect to be so spicy between the two of them. The girls wanted to know all about you and Theo but you'd just been taking your time. Despite the slight hook up the night before. But they knew all about that.

"What about Skylar" Pansy questioned as the four of you walked back inside the grounds. All wearing damp tshirts over your swimsuits.

"Don't even- I don't know her fucking problem. Her big mouth is always yapping about something" You snarled.

"Me? Big mouth?" You four snapped your head to see Skylar and her little minions at the top of the stairs inside the entrance.

"Oh fuck off Skylar" You scoffed, reaching the top of the stairs. As your about to walk of you hear-

"You're always running your mouth about something. Maybe focus on the fact your.. I don't know.. a stupid fucking bitch" Skylar smirked to her friends.

You turned to her. Astoria whispering "Lets just go its not worth it"

"Wow Skylar, you really ate me up there" Yiu gasped dramatically holding your heart like you'd be stabbed. "Maybe stop being so fucking obsessed with MY boyfriend. He doesn't want you and your.." You tapped your lip before speaking again. "Well, your little infestation" You smiled.

"INFESTATION? You fucking bitch. THEO IS MINE" She suddenly lunged at you pushing you back harshly.

"Yours? I don't remember him stating that while he was manhandling me last night" You laughed in her face.

It was like it was all in slow motion. As you turned around to walk away, you watched as your friends faces widened staring behind you. You couldn't react fast enough. You felt your ponytail being dragged back as your body harshly recoiled against the pressure.

You turned, locking eyes with Skylar a smirk upon her face as she tugged at your ponytail, lifting her fist to sock a direct punch in your face, splitting your lip.

After that you reached up, grabbing her hair as you yanked at it, swiping at her legs as she dropped on the floor below you, screaming. The corridor was suddenly not so peaceful as both you and Skylar hurled abuse at one another while Pansy, Daphne and Astoria were trying to yank you both apart along with Skylars friends.

You climbed ontop of the girl, stabilising yourself as you socked a punch into her face as she clawed at yours.

"YOU BITCH!" she screamed as she yanked your hair again.

"OW-" you lifted your leg planting your good right in her face as you swung your arm round once more punching her before you heard tons of footsteps yelling and scrambling towards the both of you. You watched as her tooth cracked and slid across the floor as she spat blood up in your face.

"BEAT HER ASS Y/N!" Pansy yelled from behind. Daphne scolding her as the three continued to try and pull you girls apart without falling in the firing line.

Both of you were clawing at one another. You were landing way more than her let's say. Her face was full of blood as you dug your acrylics into her cheek.

You felt yourself harshly being yanked off the girl as you scrambled towards her but being held back. "LET ME AT HER! WHORE!" You screamed.

"MY FACE! YOU.. YOU.. SLUT!" Skylar screamed at she ran off down the hall with her friends.

You felt hands on your face as you turned to be face to face with Theo. You watched as he analysed every aspect of your face, checking if you're ok.

"Teddy- I'm so-"

"Shhh" He placed his finger upon your lip as he took your hand into the bathroom leaving all the rest of your friends stunned at the scene from before.

He sat you upon the sink as he took off his shirt, dampening it before wiping all the blood from your face.

Theo chuckled at the thought of cleaning up after you having a fight. "Look at my girl, getting into fights like her boyfriend" He smirked as he pecked your lips softly.

"I can't help it- she's so obsessed with you Teddy. It's annoying" you scoffed. "Are you sure you didn't fuck her"

"Bella, I told you. You were my first and you'll ne my last" He caressed your face softly.

You smiled at his words as he finished wiping your face up and smiled.

"You did good, only a cut lip. Atta girl" He squeezed your thighs softly as he leaned forward, kissing your nose.

"Learned from the best" You smiled.

"Amore mio.. I love you" He snickered before capturing your lips in his. Softly kissing eachother as his hands held your waist softly. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you locked your legs around his waist pulling him in closer.

He pulled away, softly sucking on your bottom lip before pulling away and licking his lips before wiping yours with his thumb.

"My little vampire" You cooed as you ruffled his hair chuckling.

"In future if you get in fights let me be there. You looked so hot, but ill always step in after a while. Can't let you actually get beat up" He smiled.

You hit his chest shaking your head as he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead.

If you enjoyed this fic and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here!

#theo nott x reader #theo nott smut #theodore nott smut #theodore nott x reader #slytherin boys fanfiction #slytherin boys #slytherin #harrypotter fanfiction #lorenzo zurzolo #angelfrombenethfics

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cheapshrimpysheep · 25 days ago

Note

my tiktom for some reason has been showing me kiss cam videos all the time, and i just thought about how cute it would be to have a kiss cam in NRC, so i came here to make a request of kiss cam w the first years and/or the housewardens (ill leave for u to choose since ur the writer 🤭🤭)

COMMENTS: I'm not American, so all I know about Kiss Cams is what I can find on the internet and have seen in movies or something. I think the freshmen are more likely to go to a game like this than the Housewardens, which is why I chose them. And I thought it would be more fun with them.

This also doesn't takes place in NRC, but somewhere in the stands of a game.

I hope you and all enjoy 💋

CHARACTERS: Freshmen (Ace Trappola / Deuce Spade / Jack Howl / Epel Felmier / Sebek Zigvolt)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Kiss (duh)

WORD COUNT: An average of 390 words per character

In case you don't know what this is and according to Wikipedia: “The kiss cam is a social pastime that takes place during arena, stadium and court sporting events in the United States and Canada. A 'kiss cam' camera scans the crowd, and selects a couple, their images being shown on the jumbotron screens in the arena.”

CONTEXT: All five of them would have some kind of interest in watching a game live, and of course, they really wanted you to go with them. Obviously you sit next to the guy you like the most and it seems like the Kiss Cam loves seeing the two of you together.

The break arrived and the Kiss Cam was announced. Having the Kiss Cam choose the two of you was kind of something Ace already wanted to happen. They started choosing couples and showing them on the giant screen in the middle of the stadium when Sebek asked what that was and what kind of purpose it had. Ace and the others explained to him (and to you if you weren't familiar with it either) what it was.

You see the couples on the huge screen in the center of the stadium and you notice that the camera is quite fast and imagine the pressure that the people may feel when the camera is pointed at them.

You see that most of the chosen people kissed without any problems and were laughing, having fun with it. Those who weren't couples either made a negative gesture with their hand or found a funny way to get around it, like kissing the cup of drink they had instead.

And then it happened! Ace was distracted arguing with Sebek for being boring for only complaining about that cam when you nudged him to attention. You point at the screen, he looks and see the two of you.

He was immediately flustered and laughed awkwardly. It all happened very quickly. He looked at you with that same smile, but with an encouraging vibe. Understanding that you showed no signs of opposing the kiss, he put one of his arms around your shoulders, leaned in and kissed you. It was only two or three seconds, but you felt his lips pressing against yours with some intention. People applauded.

He'll keep his arm around you and watch your reaction. When he sees you smile and lean toward him, he'll lean back in his chair and let you lean against him however you want. He won't take his arm off you for the rest of the game.

“What? Jealous?” He smirks at the other four who are looking at you in disbelief. And he'll even kiss you on the cheek again to intensify their shock.

After the game he would receive a nosy call from his brother.

The break arrived and the Kiss Cam was announced. They started choosing couples and showing them on the giant screen in the middle of the stadium when Sebek asked what that was and what kind of purpose it had. Deuce and the others explained to him (and to you if you weren't familiar with it either) what it was.

You see the couples on the screen and notice that the camera is quite fast and imagine the pressure that the people may feel when the camera is pointed at them.

And then it happened! Deuce was distractedly agreeing with Sebek about it being a bit intrusive when you nudged him to attention. You point at the screen, he looks and see the two of you.

Deuce was immediately flustered and embarrassed! People around you encouraged you to kiss. Even Ace messed with Deuce, insinuating that he didn't have the courage, not even for a kiss on the cheek. It was then that you felt a quick and shy kiss on your cheek.

But people wanted more because they realized you liked each other and everything was happening very quickly. However, Deuce didn't want to move forward because he didn't know if you wanted too. He's not very good at understanding your signals. So you're the one who leans over and kisses him. People applauded.

This makes him petrify in surprise. He blinks several times until he finally looks at you. When he sees you smiling, he smiles back and can't stop himself from kissing you back. Not because of the camera, because they had already passed on to another couple, but for himself.

“OI! It's done! The camera is no longer on you.” Ace said in a 'get a room' kind of tone.

Deuce suddenly straightened up as if he had come back to reality and felt a little embarrassed, but he didn't regret it at all.

After the game he would receive an excited call from his mother.

The break arrived and the Kiss Cam was announced. They started choosing couples and showing them on the giant screen in the middle of the stadium when Sebek asked what that was and what kind of purpose it had. Jack and the others explained to him (and to you if you weren't familiar with it either) what it was.

You see the couples on the screen and notice that the camera is quite fast and imagine the pressure that the people may feel when the camera is pointed at them.

And then it happened! Jack was distractedly agreeing with Sebek about it being a bit intrusive when you nudged him to attention. You point at the screen, he looks and see the two of you.

Jack’s ears immediately lowered in surprise and flusteredness. He rubs the back of his neck when he sees you looking at him, waiting to see what he would do. With all that pressure mixed with your expectant gaze and his desire to do it, he placed one of his hands on the back of your neck and kissed you. People applauded.

It was a quick kiss, one or two seconds, but very affectionate. However he remained embarrassed, he was not a fan of public displays of affection. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, looking away from you and down at the floor.

Ace and Epel started messing with him until you leaned on his shoulder. Only then did Jack's tail start wagging. Now rest assured that the feelings were mutual he put an arm around you.

After the game he would most likely receive an excited and curious call from his parents.

The break arrived and the Kiss Cam was announced. They started choosing couples and showing them on the giant screen in the middle of the stadium when Sebek asked what that was and what kind of purpose it had. Epel himself knew little about it because he had never been to one of those stadiums and had only heard about it, so he was one of those who listened to the explanations of others.

You see the couples on the screen and notice that the camera is quite fast and imagine the pressure that the people may feel when the camera is pointed at them.

And then it happened! Epel was distractedly agreeing with Sebek that it was a stupid thing that served no purpose other than being embarrassing when you nudged him to attention. You pointed at the screen, he looked and saw the two of you. Epel practically jumped in his chair.

“WHAT IN TARNATION?! ARE YOU FREAKIN’ KIDDIN’ ME?!”

At first he is completely against it until you look at him and he realizes that the pair the camera chose for him was you. At that moment he fell silent and pondered, blushing. The people around were encouraging him and you were looking at him with an expectant look yourself. With all that adrenaline he simply leaned in and kissed you almost abruptly. People applauded.

It was a relatively quick kiss, a second or two, and then he straightened up again, all his muscles tense and his face flushed. You couldn't help but giggle, finding it cute. He sulked seeing you laugh at him.

“Hey! At least I didn't chicken-”

You shut him up and reassure him with a kiss of your own. When you broke the kiss he was still looking at you in surprise, but with a new confident glint in his eyes. He laughs and puts an arm around you to hug you.

After the game, two calls will clash to reach Epel's phone: one from his grandmother and the other from Rook.

The break arrived and the Kiss Cam was announced. They started choosing couples and showing them on the giant screen in the middle of the stadium when Sebek asked what that was and what kind of purpose it had. The others explained to him (and to you if you weren't familiar with it either) what it was.

You see the couples on the screen and notice that the camera is quite fast and imagine the pressure that the people may feel when the camera is pointed at them.

And then it happened! Sebek was distracted arguing, mainly with Ace, about it being just another stupid human custom with no purpose or sense when you nudged him to attention. You pointed at the screen, he looked and saw the two of you.

Sebek almost jumped in his chair, but he was firm in putting his foot down (almost literally) and refusing. At first. He couldn't have been more sure that he didn't want to take part in that nonsense, until he saw the way you looked at him. Suddenly an indestructible pillar of certainty wavered, realizing that the pair the camera had chosen for him was you.

People were already booing sadly until they saw him hesitate and go back to trying to encourage him to kiss you. Only now had he begun to blush.

After that, everything happened very quickly. He looked at you with his arms crossed from before, now undecided whether to keep his decision or not, and the pressure from the people was joined by Ace and Epel, insinuating that he didn't even have the courage to give you a kiss on the cheek.

Seeing from your expression that you were not objecting, he said: “VERY WELL THEN!” Held your head by the chin with one hand and kissed you decisively. People applauded.

It was a relatively quick kiss, a second or two, but you could feel his passion on his lips. However, when he broke the kiss, he didn't take his face away from yours for a good while, letting you admire his piercingly navy green eyes for a moment.

He straightened up and crossed his arms again as he suddenly remembered he was in public. He looked away from yours and chose to close his eyes instead of simply looking down or ahead.

“There! I partook of your silly ritual.”

The others will tease him until you reach out to give him a kiss on the cheek and he widens his eyes in surprise. Despite this, he will continue to contain himself, but will allow you to lean on him however you want.

After the game he will receive an extremely curious call from Lilia.

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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darkmatilda · 2 months ago

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𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a spontaneous idea for a new year's eve party doesn't seem so brilliant anymore when there's so much to do and so little time left. and when the sound of fireworks wakes you up with flashbacks. but luckily, reid's right there with you. as always.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: spencer x newbau!female reader, baking cookies together, the beginning is really chaotic, reader has a panic attack and flashbacks from time when she was a hostage (in my previous fic but there's no need to read it before. no major references as usual), mention of shooting. penelope garcia slaying. glasses read one more time (will i ever get bored of this?) a lot of jokes (successful i hope) most of the fic is very fluffy, inspired by new year's eve by taylor swift (i recommend listening to this song on repeat while reading)

𝐚/𝐧: this is probably one of my fav fics of mine, i literally cried while writing (because there's no one to clean up the bottles with me on new year's day)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 6k

“Okay, I think we’ve got everything. Although, do you think we have enough types of cheese...?”

“There’s so much cheese it won’t even fit on one board, Pen.”

“Exactly, so maybe we should make two…”

“Hey, look. Do you think these glasses will work for champagne?”

“Two boards—one with cheese, more savory, and the other with…”

“Because I don’t think I have any others. Jesus, I need to wash these; they’re fucking sticky…”

“…and on the second one, we’ll arrange the cookies we’re going to bake…”

“Shit, the cookies. I’m not even sure if this oven works…”

“Wait, did we even buy olives? Fuck, how could we forget olives…”

“Screw the olives! Wash the glasses if you can, and I’ll check the oven…”

“What do you mean, screw the olives?! How the fuck are you supposed to make a cheese board without olives?!”

For about twenty minutes now, you and Garcia had been running around the kitchen in your house, talking over each other non-stop and hardly listening. A grocery bag sat unopened on the kitchen island, you hadn’t started preparing a single one of your overly ambitious snacks, and some pesky gremlin was doing flips on your shoulder, whispering tauntingly, you know it’s highly likely the milk in your fridge is expired, right?

Well, that’s just how it goes when you decide to throw a New Year’s Eve party spontaneously—on New Year’s Eve afternoon. Honestly, it was a fucking miracle so many people agreed to come. And once they said yes, there was no backing out. You had to organize everything: the food, decorating your house, outfits, makeup. With every passing minute, Penelope was transforming into a full-blown organizational beast, completely unsure what to tackle first. The two cute space buns on top of her head had fallen apart, leaving her blonde curls loosely cascading down her neck—not that she even seemed to notice.

You, on the other hand, were losing steam fast. All you wanted was to curl up in a ball on the floor and eat cheese without bothering to arrange it on a board in an aesthetic way. Two types of people under time pressure.

To make matters worse, the doorbell rang.

“Coming!” you shouted, your voice so filled with irritation that, if you were in the visitor’s shoes, you’d have turned and run for your life. Quickly, you opened the fridge and sniffed the damned milk. No signs of spoilage, thank fuck. There was no way you had time to go back to the store…

You made it to the door, and halfway there, you realized you were still holding the open bottle of milk you had forgotten to put back. You sighed, turned around, and with a double dose of rage, anxiety, and sheer insanity, you finally opened the door.

"Hey," Reid greeted, standing on the doorstep. His glasses were perched on his nose, and his hair was slightly tousled from the rather strong wind that day. Without even looking at you, he pointed to the brown bag hanging from his shoulder. "So, about those board games, when you invited me, I decided to look something up online and ordered one that I think you'll like. It's inspired by the works of Jane Austen, and players take on the roles of characters from the Regency era..."

"Is someone trying to sell you something, or what?" You heard Penelope's voice from the kitchen.

"Anyway, I ordered it, but unfortunately, it didn’t arrive, so I just grabbed chess and..."

You could only manage a confused shake of your head.

"Reid, with all due respect, but what the hell are you talking about?"

He looked at you as if you’d asked him for the juicy details of raccoon marital life.

"You invited me over for New Year’s," he reminded you, frowning slightly, as if wondering whether he’d gotten something wrong—like the day, maybe. "Me and Garcia. We were supposed to play board games..."

Your mouth dropped open as you suddenly remembered he was absolutely right. You had invited him. For board games. And then forgot to cancel after you’d all decided to spend the evening in a completely different way.

"Give me just a second," you said, and without waiting for a reply, slammed the door in his face.

Then you screamed. Stomping your foot like a frustrated child. Why, oh why, did you have the memory of a goldfish? Forgetting literally everything, from buying those damn olives to canceling this meeting. Why did the last day of the year have to suck so much? Why couldn’t anything in your life just go smoothly?

"The plans have… slightly changed," you explained with an apologetic smile when you reopened the door.

Reid rocked slightly on his heels, his hand clenched around the strap of his bag. He had clearly heard what happened after you closed the door and looked as though he was debating whether to hand you a note with the number of a good psychiatrist.

"But that doesn't mean I'm kicking you out," you assured him quickly. "I’m really, really glad you decided to come, seriously. So, sorry about how things turned out. But still—will you come in? Garcia's here."

He shrugged and followed you inside.

"What exactly does plans have changed mean?" he asked.

He didn’t look around the room—he’d been to your house countless times before. Lately, for the past few months, with an increasing frequency. But he did stare curiously at a disheveled Penelope, who was busy loading glasses into the dishwasher.

"Well, we met up for lunch," she began explaining without even turning to face him. You didn’t waste the little time you had either, pulling ingredients for cookies out of the fridge. "We talked a bit about Derek and Elle spending New Year’s Eve in the Maldives. And our princess here decided that she wasn’t going to spend the evening in a nerdy way, playing nerdy board games, with two nerds like us..."

"I didn’t say that!" you protested indignantly.

"...while they’re sipping cocktails on the beach and having a great time. And so, it turned out we’re throwing a party."

The explanation came to an end, and Reid listened to it all without much emotion on his face, something you caught out of the corner of your eye. But you didn’t expect him to be devastated. After all, it wasn’t as if you had canceled an event the two of you had been counting down to like prisoners marking days on their cell walls, eagerly awaiting freedom.

Standing by the kitchen island, he glanced at you, then at Garcia, then behind him, as if unsure whether he should stay or politely excuse himself and leave.

“You’re invited, by the way,” you clarified, because while you thought it was obvious, maybe it wasn’t so clear to him. “So, yeah, if you’re planning to come, you have no choice—you have to help me bake these cookies. Get with it.”

You tossed him one of the aprons. The other you began tying around your waist.

Reid caught the object you threw, looked at it with furrowed brows, then shifted his gaze to you, a hint of something resembling a smile flickering across his face.

“Who said I’m planning to come?” he asked.

His mock-offensive tone didn’t quite match what he was doing—slipping the apron over his head. It made you snort.

“Oh, what, got other plans, pretty boy?” Penelope teased. “Some wild party at the book club?”

She leaned over to close the dishwasher. But instead of straightening up, she froze in place, staring at her reflection in the machine’s door. Her jaw dropped, and she gasped in something close to horror.

“What happened to my hair? I look... I look like…”

“Like a homeless caveman who just barely won a fight with lightning?” you suggested in a syrupy tone. “But only just.”

“Excuse me for a moment,” she huffed.

She left the kitchen, the sound of her heels echoing as she headed upstairs to the bathroom. Reid turned to himself with a smug expression.

“Does a caveman qualify as homeless if he lives in a cave…”

You interrupted him with your outstretched hand, pressing it to his mouth.

“Cookies, Reid. Not philosophy.”

You were planning to bake simple butter cookies in the shape of stars, and then decorate them with edible glitter. You started pulling out all the necessary ingredients from the fridge and cabinets, which were soon covering the countertop in your kitchen. You stood side by side, and your eyes were drawn to the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt, barely touching his wrists. Unable to resist, you grabbed his hand and started rolling the sleeves up to his elbows.

"You could've just told me..." he began, looking at you in surprise.

You merely shrugged. You found yourselves facing each other, and you nodded towards his other hand, which he gave you after a brief hesitation. Just like before, you rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, but this time much more slowly. As more of his skin appeared before your eyes, you gathered yourself to speak.

"I feel a bit bad about how things turned out with the games," you admitted, not looking up to meet his gaze. You focused on his hand, holding it by the knuckles.

"It's okay," he reassured you, his voice soft without a hint of reproach.

"I should've warned you earlier," you continued stubbornly. "Instead of doing it last minute. And, you know, if you don't want to come to this party, that's totally okay. I know you were expecting something different..."

"I was expecting to spend time with you," he interrupted, then paused to clear his throat. It was then that you realized you were still holding his hand. His fingers trembled slightly when you let go, and he immediately shoved it into his pocket—perhaps to hide it. "We can have a game night another time. On a different day. Like, this weekend, for example. If you'd want, of course. Not that I'm pressuring you..."

"I would like that," you assured him, looking up at him with a smile, amused by his over-explaining. It always charmed you. You used to think it was because you didn't know each other well and he still felt nervous around you, but as time passed, you came to realize that maybe that was just how he was. "Seriously. And it's not just because I feel guilty about how I left you hanging today. I'm genuinely curious about that game you ordered. It’s inspired by Austen's novels, right?"

He started to tell you more about it, while you both added the first ingredients into a large glass bowl. As he began to knead the dough with his hands, you leaned your elbow on the countertop, propping your chin on your hand, listening to him.

"...one of the symbols of excess in 17th century England was a dish called A Pie of a Thousand Birds..."

You wondered when the conversation had shifted to this topic, while Penelope was still in the bathroom.

"...containing various kinds of birds, sometimes in different layers, cooked together. In the earliest records of this dish, it mentions anywhere from a dozen to several dozen birds such as quails, chickens, geese..."

Reid suddenly stopped when his gaze landed on you. He must have been so absorbed in kneading the dough and sharing this tidbit with you that he was completely unaware of the fact that you were staring at him.

You raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Is something wrong?"

"No," he quickly assured you, adjusting his glasses on his nose. He had a bit of dough on his skin, which seemed to escape his notice. He furrowed his brow, trying to remember where he'd left off. "And... quails..."

You couldn't bring yourself to tell him he'd already mentioned them. Instead of that, you moved from your spot, slowly lifting your hands off the counter and approached him to wipe away the stray bit of dough beneath his eye. Reid, wanting to make sure nothing else was left on his face, wiped it with his hand… which was completely covered in dough. At the sight of his expression when he realized what he had done, you couldn't help but burst out laughing, your head resting against his apron from the weight of it. Meanwhile, he desperately tried to wipe away the remnants using the clean skin of his forearms, muttering a few curses under his breath, which only made you laugh harder.

"I see you're having a great time," Penelope returned to the kitchen.

On top of her head were two cute buns once again, resembling little snails.

"The best," you corrected, undeterred, trying once more to wipe his face. This time, not as gently as before, until he flinched back under the pressure of your hand, scrunching his nose tightly.

You glanced at the clock, and your playful mood started to wane. There was still so much to do, and you rallied everyone into action. Penelope rolled up her sleeves to prepare the charcuterie boards (it turned out the olives were at the bottom of the bag), you got to work on the mini sandwiches, and Reid was busy cutting out star shapes from the rolled-out dough using a champagne bottle as a makeshift rolling pin.

“Oh, by the way, Pen,” you began, opening the heated oven to put in the first batch of cookies, “we’re still going to kiss at midnight, right?”

“That’s right, sweetheart. Nothing’s changed,” your friend replied, focused on arranging various types of cheese into the best possible combination.

Reid, meanwhile, was taking off his apron, folding it into a perfectly neat square, a frown of concentration on his face.

“Why kiss specifically at midnight?” he asked.

“You haven’t heard about that tradition?” you asked, surprised. “A kiss at midnight brings good luck in love and relationships for the whole next year. Skipping it means the opposite.”

“I didn’t know you were superstitious.”

“It’s just a gesture. Or maybe, better put, a symbol. But anyway, last year I was having a bit too much fun and passed out before midnight. And, well, I don’t think I need to tell you it wasn’t the best year for relationships. Or rather, the lack of them.”

“Doesn’t that mean you should kiss two people this year? One for the previous year and one for the current one?” Garcia suggested thoughtfully.

You mulled it over as well.

“Actually, that makes sense. But who?”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone,” your friend assured you. “There’s bound to be some handsome volunteer. And if not, Reid could always be your backup option.”

You glanced at him briefly, biting your lip as you considered the suggestion. Funny enough, you hadn’t thought of him at all. Not because you found the idea of kissing him unpleasant or something you wouldn’t want to do. It was just… this tradition felt more like grabbing a random person, the first friend within reach. Something done without much thought—a gesture that, in this context, meant absolutely nothing serious.

Wait, but with Reid, would it mean something serious? Why the hesitation all of a sudden? You shook your head, dismissing the train of thought.

You looked at him again; he seemed to be making a deliberate effort to keep his gaze fixed on Penelope, not on you. Though as soon as he sensed you looking at him, he turned his eyes to meet yours, his expression unreadable.

“What do you think?” you asked before you could stop yourself. To ease the sudden, inexplicable tension, you added with a playful smile, “My entire romantic year would rest in your hands—or rather, on your lips. Would you be ready to take on such a sacrifice?”

“Think carefully, darling,” Penelope chimed in, pointing a finger at him. “Otherwise, we’ll all have to spend the next twelve months listening to her complain about how awful men are and how unlucky she is in love…”

“I’m starting to feel an unjustified amount of pressure,” Reid remarked cautiously. You kept staring at him, arms crossed over your chest as you stood near the oven, its orange glow casting a warm light across the kitchen.

“No pressure. And just so we’re clear, it’s not like I’m taking advantage of you. You’d benefit from this too. Unless, of course, you decide to kiss someone else—then, fine…”

“Considering I probably won’t know anyone else at this party? Slim chances…”

A snort escaped you before you could stop it. Both of them turned to you with curiosity.

“What I mean…” you began hesitantly, gesturing toward him. He was objectively handsome—maybe not every woman’s type, but then again, no man was. In your opinion, though, he absolutely was. There was something about his polished, intellectual demeanor that occasionally clashed with his sharp wit, creating a strangely magnetic allure. You gestured at him again, as if emphasizing your point. “Just try not rolling down the sleeves of that shirt until midnight, and you’ll see your chances aren’t that slim.”

He shook his head, utterly bewildered.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Oh, Pen, explain it to him,” you sighed in mock defeat.

“She means your forearms are sexy,” Penelope clarified without missing a beat.

Reid looked down at his hands as though they belonged to someone else entirely. You exchanged an amused glance with Garcia, and the whole midnight kiss topic… well, it drifted away. You weren’t entirely sure if he had agreed or not.

You wanted to casually bring it up again, but soon Penelope left the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone with a tray of freshly baked cookies ready to be decorated. Somehow, to your own surprise, you couldn’t summon the courage to ask.

"I bought edible glitter specifically for these cookies," you said, pulling a small box from the cupboard. "Apparently, it’s flavorless, but it’ll make the star-shaped cookies look magical. Maybe we should mix it with the icing?"

Reid stared intently at the label on the bottle, silent.

"What? What’s wrong?" you asked, suddenly worried.

"That’s not edible glitter," he announced. For a split second, you thought you saw the corner of his mouth twitch. But when he noticed your completely bewildered—and now slightly furious—expression, his face quickly returned to its usual stillness. "It’s just regular glitter."

"You’ve got to be kidding me, Reid."

"Since when does edible glitter contain polyethylene terephthalate and aluminum?"

You snatched the package out of his hands, and when his words were confirmed, you slapped your forehead.

"Did I just almost kill all my guests?"

"Maybe not kill them right away," he said, his tone comforting as he took the package back from your hands before you could hit yourself with it again. "Complications from eating include gastrointestinal irritation like vomiting, nausea, and possibly damage to the mucous membranes of the mouth..."

"You're not helping."

"Sorry."

For a moment, you both stood in silence, your gaze still fixed on the tray of cooling cookies.

"But this isn't the end of the world," Reid said gently after a moment. "They still have their... interesting shape. We can decorate them with regular icing. Draw something on them. They may not sparkle, but they'll be just as delicious. And that's probably the most important thing, right?"

You knew he was right, but still, there was a certain sadness in the way you nodded. It took you a while to realize how much you’d been obsessing over such a small thing. You let out a chuckle, and he did the same.

"And I even came up with an idea for what to do with the glitter," you announced after a moment, taking the open box in your hands. A bit of the shimmering particles landed on your outstretched palm, and Reid squinted when you blew on it, sending the glitter his way. "I’ll make you shine. You’ll match the rest of the decorations..."

When Penelope returned to the kitchen, she found herself in the middle of a full-blown war, not even a battle anymore. Reid had both of your hands raised and held still, preventing you from reaching for another handful of glitter. You tried to wriggle out of this trap, kneeing him or doing something, but it wasn't really working. So there you were, looking like you were caught in some kind of bizarre dance neither of you knew the steps to, but your half-smiling faces suggested you weren’t too bothered by it.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to get that glitter out of your hair until the next New Year’s Eve.

You had a rule to be careful with alcohol when the party was at your house.

You preferred to make sure everything was running smoothly. Nothing slipped out of control — no one played baseball with your TV (although you hoped the adult crowd had outgrown that kind of entertainment), no one felt unwell or needed help. Moving between people, conversations, and laughter, asking if anyone needed anything or was having a good time, reminding everyone not to smoke inside. You didn’t notice when it all started to drain you. So much so that you decided to sneak away for a moment in the upstairs bathroom.

You just needed a little time alone, splashing cold water on your neck, playing a game on your phone for five minutes while sitting on the closed toilet seat. That’s all you needed.

Your bathroom had a window, usually left open. The room was on the second floor, so there was no chance anyone could be watching. You never worried about it. The window overlooked the yard of one of your neighbors, whom you didn’t even know. As you returned, you stood with your hands on the cool sink, your eyes half-closed from exhaustion but feeling a sense of relief.

Midnight was in fifteen minutes. The year was ending in fifteen minutes.

A lot has happened over the past twelve months. The most important, of course, was joining the BAU. A huge achievement for someone so young, always commented on with a surprised raise of the eyebrows, so much so that it still hadn’t fully sunk in for you. A fair amount, but still not enough, of cases solved, unsub caught, lives saved.

Apart from the professional achievements, there was also something you couldn’t add to your CV or your dating profile. Memories. The big ones, and the ones often overlooked. The countless smiles exchanged over office desks, the amused nudges of elbows, the hours spent in simple laughter. The nights, the ones spent dancing in clubs or at house parties, the ones in your friends' homes with bottles of wine passed from hand to hand and gossip flowing from your lips, one after the other, in a constant stream of surprised exclamations and sighs. There were also those spent in sad motels during business trips. Many of them, but it was the shabby ones that stuck with you the most. Narrow beds shared with Reid, because of his fear of the dark, which worsened in such places. Sometimes silly conversations and arguments, but also the more serious ones. Comforting. And, of course, you had to include the people around you, those you met this year, and those who have been with you for a long time. All the moments when you were happy, and all the ones when you cried. The books and movies. Those that disappointed you so much that you cursed them for days. Those that made you laugh until you choked, but also the ones that nailed you to the theater seat, your gaze vacant and your mind drifting somewhere on the waves of an existential crisis.

You thought about it all with a small smile on your lips

Unfortunately, when you focused on reflecting on the passing year, another memory hit you—one of those decidedly unpleasant ones. The one where, under the guise of normality, you found yourself in the middle of a robbery, becoming a hostage. And as you watched one body after another drop motionless to the floor, blood pooling around them.

The sink you were leaning against grew warm. Your hands were hot, sweating. You shook your head, trying to push away the uncomfortable memory. Why dwell on it? It was over, long over...

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a flash in your neighbor's yard. A bright spot rising into the air, even though it wasn't even midnight yet. What kind of idiot sets off fireworks before the New Year? What was the point of that?

You straightened up, an irrational sense of danger taking hold of you. As if that fired projectile was about to crash through your window, causing an explosion in the room. Absurd, you knew that. But then the sound hit. A blast, almost like a gunshot. A gunshot coming from an unknown direction, fading lights around you, and screams. You took a breath as another shot rang out. Fireworks lit up the night sky, a green glow spilling into your bathroom, painting your face. You stayed frozen, breath held, with your chest tight.

You knew you should move, shake off the state that the experience had put you in, but… you couldn’t. Although physically unharmed, in your own home, fear took control, robbing you of your agency. Your heartbeat quickened to an unnatural pace, a sickly rhythm. It paralyzed your limbs, one by one, while images kept flashing before your eyes, intensifying with each approaching shot.

Since your actions and most of your awareness remained beyond your control, you soon realized that you were sitting on the floor. And, worst of all, a silhouette cast its shadow over you. You flinched, expecting to see a pair of leather boots and a gun pointed at you.

“It’s just me,” came a quiet, familiar voice, somehow cutting through the wall that separated you from the world. “Me, Spencer. Sorry I came in, but you didn’t respond when I knocked... okay, that doesn’t really matter right now.”

He sighed and crouched down right in front of you, his forehead furrowed in concern. Hesitantly, he reached for your shoulder, lightly touching it, but you flinched the moment his hand moved.

“No touching, it’s okay. I understand, I get it. I understand... what you’re going through.” He spoke quietly and calmly, but you could see a hint of panic crossing his face as he carefully observed yours, choosing his words. He swallowed hard. “You’re really scared, your hands are shaking, you can’t... you can’t breathe. It’s a panic attack, you know what that means. And... it’s temporary. The important thing is to just breathe. I know it’s hard... but just try…”

The surrounding air seemed thick, like some dense gas filling your nostrils and painfully entering your lungs. You shook your head in refusal, not wanting to do it again.

"Slowly, they don’t have to be deep breaths. Just try to make them steady, okay? Please," he continued, settling down closer to you on the floor. He was also breathing the way he described, trying to demonstrate for you. Focusing on the rise and fall of his chest, you made another attempt. It went... better.

"Exactly like that. We're at a party now, remember? At your house. We baked cakes specially for the occasion. It's New Year's Eve and people are shooting fireworks... those are fireworks, just regular fireworks..."

The green glow crept in again through the window, covering and retreating from your two huddled forms on the floor like a tide. You focused on what he was saying, alternately keeping your eyes tightly shut and wide open. You preferred them closed—it was easier to listen to him that way. But when you closed them, it felt like he was so far away. You reached out with trembling hands, trying to touch him, to make sure he was really there in front of you. And before you realized it, you fell into his embrace, your hands clutching his back in panic with every new shot outside.

You could close your eyes; his presence and scent were with you. You could close your eyes, pretend it wasn’t happening, that you weren’t there.

But it didn’t stop. Reid whispered that it was midnight, and the next round of fireworks shot into the sky, sending those trembling sounds that rattled you. A part of your mind knew why this was happening, so why did your body still react this way?

You buried yourself deeper into his arms, feeling some weight on the top of your head—he must have rested his chin there. You kept trying to breathe, and by accident, you inhaled the scent of his neck, which, surprisingly, helped. One breath after another. In and out. His skin. Another shot outside. In and out.

It must have been many minutes before it finally stopped. You both ended up leaning against the wall, side by side. Your knees were pulled to your chest, his legs stretched out. From downstairs, through the floor, came the muffled sound of music, and that’s what you focused on. On that, and on counting the tiles on the neighboring wall, on the hands of Reid’s watch moving forward. On the details, helping you ground yourself.

"How do you feel now?" he broke the silence that had lasted for several minutes with a quiet question.

You pressed the back of your head to the wall behind you, closing your eyes for a moment.

"Better," you said after a moment. The sound from your throat was raspy, and you swallowed, pausing for a second. "Isn't it... isn't it a strange twist of fate that we're always there for each other when something bad happens to the other person?"

You kept your gaze fixed ahead, and from the corner of your eye, you saw him looking at you. Slowly, he shrugged.

"Isn't that what friendship is about?" he asked.

Then, you shrugged.

"Friendship," you repeated, turning the word around on your tongue. You shook your head slightly. "I guess so. I mean, I guess that's what it's about." For a moment, you paused, lightly licking your lips. Your mind was still clouded, and you struggled to form coherent sentences. "I completely forgot what I was talking about a moment ago. What was it about again?"

Reid smiled gently at the look on your face, the expression confused but calm. And then... his hand slowly dropped to the top of your head, gently stroking it and sliding down along your cheek, where it stopped.

"Friendship," he repeated slowly.

Suddenly, as if realizing something, he turned his head slightly, as if to pull his hand away, but you stopped him. You grabbed it, and even though it had moved away from your face, your cheek, you enclosed it in a gentle grasp with both of your hands, the way a shell embraces a pearl.

You noticed the time on his watch.

"It’s already past midnight," you remarked. "Do you think everyone’s too drunk to look for us, or do they just honestly not care what we've been doing in the bathroom for the past hour?"

He chuckled at your words, amused by your suggestive tone.

"Don’t want to go back?" he asked, making sure.

You immediately shook your head.

"Not yet. I like it here. And I guess I’m not ready," you said, the last part tinged with a slight embarrassment. He nodded understandingly, signaling that it was okay. You didn’t have to leave yet.

You sighed, probably for the hundredth time.

"Honestly, I’ve completely lost my party mood. We could’ve played those board games instead. When I think about the bottles I’ll have to clean up tomorrow, I just feel like I might puke."

"We'll be here. Me. And Garcia," he reminded you. "You thought we were just going to disappear together, expecting you to clean up all this mess by yourself?"

"It's not really your responsibility," you replied with a slight shrug. However, a small, grateful smile tugged at your lips. "It would have been enough if you helped me set it all up. Even if it meant the entire kitchen glittering with sparkles before the party even started."

"New Year’s Eve decorations."

"Right," you scoffed. "That I’ll never get rid of. It will always look like a place where My Little Pony ponies had an alcoholic binge."

As you continued to stare at his hand, lying limp on your lap, and at his watch, you realized something else. A thought that made you tilt your head back with a sigh.

"I missed midnight again," you groaned suddenly. "Third year in a row. Where am I supposed to find three people to kiss next year, when I couldn't even find two this time?"

"You did manage," Reid pointed out, frowning slightly. "Penelope. And if you're counting your backup option, that would be me too."

"Would you?" you asked, surprised.

Pleasantly surprised. This subject had slipped by so quickly that you were sure his final answer would have been a no. You glanced fleetingly at his lips. They were slightly parted, probably in the same way they would have been if everything had gone according to plan. If you had found yourselves facing each other under the full, colorful-blinking night sky.

He nodded slightly in response, his upper and lower lips meeting. You tore your gaze away from them and refocused on the rest of his face.

"Sure," he replied aloud. He was close, the words escaping him with a slight breath of his air. "I mean... I'd also like to have a good year. So far, it’s started well. Anyway... yeah. I don't mind if you extend my backup option subscription for next year too."

The way he phrased it amused you. you lowered your gaze for a moment with a smile. Then you nodded, turning your head back toward him.

"So I guess I have my lineup for next New Year's," you said, letting go of his hand to start counting on your fingers. Both of you only realized then that you had been holding it at all. "First, of course, my husband..."

"Husband?" he interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

"I’m being very ambitious this year, Reid," you assured him, with mock seriousness. "Then Garcia, if she agrees again. But she probably will. Unless Derek gets in the way. Oh well, I’ll just send him to the tropics again. And then, number three, you."

"Your husband won’t mind if you kiss me?"

Something changed in his expression, and it was becoming harder for you to maintain eye contact. Your gaze kept dropping, as if it were searching for something against your will. Plus, the whole bathroom suddenly felt incredibly small, your movements slow, like in slow motion. You forced yourself to wave it off dismissively.

"He’ll understand," you said, forcing yourself to take a breath. You had forgotten again, but this time, it wasn’t panic. It was more about his face, so close to yours, the side of your head against the wall, your bodies nearly touching. "Well, he won’t have a choice. If he wants our marriage to last happily and forever, he’ll have to let me make up for all those lost years, those three missed kisses. Sorry... if I’m talking nonsense right now, just tell me, I don’t know what’s happening with me..."

When he kissed you, for a moment, you couldn’t find yourself. Even though everything had been leading to this, with your faces so close for the last twenty minutes, gazes repeatedly falling on each other's lips, it still surprised you. You sucked in a breath through your nose as his lips pressed into yours.

Only when his hand, the same one you had been playing with for so long, the one that had earlier caressed your cheek, fell back into the same place, carelessly resting and brushing the tips of his fingers against a small part of your ear, did you truly feel it. You squeezed your eyelids shut, placing your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. It wasn’t the kind of kiss you usually associated with New Year’s Eve, one you’d forget the next day or mention with a fleeting smile. Every thought of it was meant to bring overwhelming loneliness to your lips, to make you imagine it still lasting. It alternated between tasting you slowly and carefully and consuming you with the anticipation held captive between you.

You sighed softly against his lips, and he mirrored it when you briefly pulled away. Your breaths mingled, your faces still close, foreheads gently touching.

“I almost forgot,” you whispered, barely lifting your eyelids. “Happy New Year.”

He smiled, his lips brushing yours once more for a fleeting moment.

“May your wishes come true...or something like that.”

“Or something like that.” you whispered, completely distracted, before pulling him back to you again.

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#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #dr reid

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yapperblog · 28 days ago

Text

Tags: smut, fingering, unprotected piv, kinda mean Joost.

Explicit RPF below, don't interact if you are not comfortable with that; +18

You walk down a busy street, the path is familiar to you – it leads to the Internet Cafe, where you go to do your personal admin tasks and unwind playing games after a stressful day at work. It is already dark outside, but the sound of rain splattering onto your umbrella and lights of the nearby shops shining from the windows as you walk past are keeping you company.

As you reach your destination, you notice a printed note on the door "Today we are closing for maintenance at 10pm. Come back tomorrow for usual working hours." You sigh, as you usually prefer to stay for longer, the whole point of it being open 24/7.

Familiar clacking of the keyboard, murmur of conversations and laughter of groups of people engaged in a computer game greets you as you walk in. You put away your umbrella and head to the administrator's desk. Your heart starts pounding faster, as it does every time you see him. Joost, who works at the cafe, is sitting at his desk, a usual scowl on his face and a cigarette hanging from his lips, even though there is a No smoking sign. He is the sole reason this place is running as smoothly as it does, he keeps every customer at check. From the first time you came here, you could tell everyone is scared of him due to his mean attitude, but it thrills you – the smudged eyeliner look he has, his style, how he towers over everyone, it all excites you. You haven't talked to him much, he keeps it pretty short with everyone, an uninterested look on his face, so getting a few words from him always seems like a win.

You unbutton your jacket and fix your skirt, which you wore just for him – today it is even shorter than usual. He doesn't talk much, but you can feel his eyes on you, when you wear those skirts. How he rolls his eyes, when you bat your eyes at him asking for help on the computer, even though you know how to fix it yourself, he is annoyed, but never denies your ask for help. It excites you knowing you have some effect on him.

"Hi, 2 hours please." you say as you reach his desk, sliding the exact amount of cash for 2 hours on the computer and internet.

"We close at 10 today." he doesn't look up, takes your money.

"I saw the note." you say and before he can point at what computer is free, you chime in. "I was thinking...do you need any help?"

He stops typing, stares at the screen and then looks up at you. You smile cheerily, "I can help with the maintenance, whatever that is, or I can vacuum. It will be faster together." yet his facial expression doesn't change from the usual bored scowl.

"We are fine." he says and turns back to the computer.

"5th computer is yours for 2 hours" he points at the direction of the desk.

You turn around to walk towards it, not entirely surprised by his answer, but it was worth a try. You say hi to other usual customers you've become friends with. As you take a seat, you look behind your shoulder, catching Joost staring at the exposed skin provided by your short skirt. You can't help but clench your thighs together, hoping he notices how a simple glance from him arouses you, wishing it was him touching you directly.

2 hours go by fast. You throw your head back laughing at something a guy next to you said. He is funny, and has been a good company, you put your hand on his thigh, not meaning anything by it, other than trying to catch yourself as you laugh again leaning forward. On accident your eyes meet Joost, who is watching your hand on the guy's thigh – his scowl angrier than usual, the cigarette letting out smoke as it hangs from his lips.

"It's 10pm. Everyone – out." Joost stands up to announce and walks towards the desks with a trash bag to collect any junk left by the customers.

You start to pack your things, when you feel a hand on your upper arm. It's a guy you met earlier, "I was thinking, maybe you want to grab a drink with me? There is a good bar nearby. If you are not busy."

You are about to reply, when you hear a familiar deep voice coming from behind you. "She is helping here today."

You turn to face Joost. "I thought you said-"

"Yeah. Change of plans. Are you staying or no?"

You look at the guy, who is still waiting for your answer. "Sorry, I can't today."

The last customer leaves – it's just you and Joost now. You stand awkwardly, not really having expected your evening to turn out this way.

"Grab the trash bag, throw out anything that's not supposed to be on the desks. And wipe them down later, cleaning wipes are next to the printer. I will vacuum. The guys should come soon to update the computers." you just stare at him, this must be the most you've heard him talk.

"What?" he asks with raised eyebrows after you don't reply.

"Nothing." you giggle and grab the trash bag. This should be fun.

It is not a big space, so you keep bumping into each other, as he vacuums under the desks, you mutter little sorries, but he keeps at task, seemingly in his own world. His presence in the same room feels electric, now that everyone else is gone, you want his attention more than ever. You bend down and reach forward on the desk as if to pick up the trash at the back of it, your skirt bunching up higher revealing even more skin. You know he notices it, you don't even have to look back to feel his eyes on you. Even a little brush of his arm next to you makes your breath hitch, you wonder if he can tell. Was it jealousy that made him change his mind and let you stay? You want to talk to him, but the constant noise of the vacuum cleaner makes it impossible.

The next time, you intentionally pick a desk to clean right where he is vacuuming. You lean against it and your ass brushes against his hip. He doesn't move away, you wiggle your hips slightly. The noise suddenly stops.

"What are you doing?" he asks. Only the buzz of computers running and your both heavy breathing can be heard in the room. You haven't noticed how worked up he has gotten you just by being close, but seeing how his own chest is rising and falling you can guess it had the same effect on him.

"What do you mean?" you are still in the same position, and he also hasn't moved. He looks down at where your ass meets his hip. The cool metal clasp of his pants feels nice on your skin. You play coy and it thrills you what he will do about it. "I am cleaning the desks as you told me to, am I not?"

He groans and the sound of it makes you grin.

"Well, I think you missed a spot." his voice is lower than usual.

"Huh? Where?"

"Right there." he points at the suspicious stain at the back of the desk. You lean in to reach it, when you feel him move behind you. A pair of warm hands holding your waist, it makes you stop in your tracks, suddenly hot all over.

"Why did you stop? Should I help you?" his crotch is pressed behind you.

"I don't think I see it. I do need some help."

His palm slides from your waist up to your shoulder, down your arm, as he reaches your hand, holding it gently, his chest now pressed against your back. Your heart is threatening to jump out of your throat. The weight of his body on you, the smell of his cologne and cigarettes he smokes makes your head spin. You can't help but arch your back, a quiet moan slipping past your lips.

You hear him huff next to your ear. "Such a pretty girl. Coming here flaunting in your tiny skirts." he speaks quietly and a chill runs down your spine.

"Always the loudest laugh in the room." he continues and moves your hand to wipe down the stain, holding it firmly in his own. "But I can't even bring myself to say anything, because I love the sound of it." he admits. "Don't think I don't notice you."

"Oh, I know you notice." you try to calm your breathing, but fail miserably, it comes out more as a pathetic whimper. He chuckles at how fast he has gotten you wrapped around his finger.

"So you wear it just for me?" he continues moving your hand, his lips ghosting over your neck. "Not these other guys?"

"Only you. I don't need anyone else." you try to turn your head to look at him, but he straightens up and holds the back of your neck.

"Fuck." he groans, you can feel he is getting hard, the rough material of his jeans still pressed against you. You want him to know how wet he got you. "What should I do with you?"

His hand starts trailing from waist down to your thigh, when you hear the door open. He quickly takes a step back from you, turning away. You also stand up from the desk, fixing your hair.

"Hi. We are here for the computer updates?" one of the men says.

Joost goes up to greet them and show around. "Continue cleaning." he calls out to you, when walking past.

After awhile you start to get bored, now that you are not alone, Joost has gone back to ignoring you. The lack of his hands on you makes you feel so lonely, you can still remember the weight and warmth of him pressing you onto the desk, and it is still not enough. He is sitting at his desk, lighting up another cigarette, you watch him flick a lighter, taking a few deep drags filling his lungs with smoke.

You walk towards him. "Is there anything else I can help with?"

He looks around the room, "Honestly.. no. You can go home, you know." there is a hint in his voice that shows he feels bad for keeping you here waiting around for whatever reason. You must have better ways of spending the night rather than this dirty old place.

"I can stay." you reassure him. "I want to help you finish your shift." you trace a nail down his bicep. He looks at your hand, then back up at your face. After his confession of loving the sound of your laugh and calling you a pretty girl you became bolder. His eyes shift to the men still working on the computers, "How long will this take?" he calls out to them.

They shrug, looking at each other. "Like another.. hour or so." one of them replies. Your head drops in defeat, why is it taking so long.

"Sure you don't want to go home?" Joost asks you again.

"I'm sure."

"To help me finish the shift you said?" he laughs. And it makes you stop in your tracks. This is the first time you heard him laugh, what a beautiful sound. You need more of it.

"You are doing it again." he says, his attention back to the computer.

"Doing what?"

"Staring at me silently."

"I am fascinated by you." you want to smooth down the messy strands of hair sticking out in the back of his head. But restrict yourself not to push your luck too much.

"You are so weird." he says putting out his cigarette in an ashtray. "If you need something to do, here take the pencils, sharpen them." You sigh and take the pencils and the sharpener.

You are sitting at the opposite side of where the two men are busy working on computers, their chatter can be heard in the room. You have the perfect vision of Joost, from where you sit facing him, conveniently hidden from anyone else's eyes. He keeps checking on you, humming a melody while sharpening the pencils, as if it is the most interesting task in the world. He seems to have gotten back to his previous uninterested demeanour or just tries to act this way around others. You wave your fingers at him and shoot a smile. He shakes his head at you and is about to turn back to the computer, when you uncross your legs, slowly pushing them apart just for his viewing pleasure, you trace a pencil from your upper thigh closer to your skirt, raising it higher and higher, revealing the side of your panties. You look into his eyes, the bright blue irises almost invisible at this point, how aroused he is.

"We are done." the man stands up and starts to pack up their bags. Joost all but jumps out of his seat. "Thank you guys." and starts to walk them out of the door.

The door closes, the silence surrounding you both again. The anticipation is killing you, you tentatively stand up and head in his direction.

"I sharpened the pencils." you say showing him the sharp ends.

"Good." he takes the pencils, placing them on a nearby desk.

His back is turned to you, you take an opportunity to glide your hands along his back muscles. He doesn't scold you, or move away, so you continue working your hands up to his shoulders, down his arms. "You seem so tense."

You don't have time to react, he moves so quick pinning you to a desk behind you. The backs of your legs pressed against it, he is mere inches away from you, holding both your wrists in one hand. Joost leans his face down toward yours, his hand sliding down to your neck as he rests it there. His eyes dart between your soft lips and eyes.

"You really wanna get fucked here? Want me to pause my work for a needy slut?" He growls lowly, keeping a firm grip on your neck as he brings his face close to yours, his other hand holding your waist. The sudden change makes your head spin as you smile and look up at him through your lashes. You are finally getting exactly what you wanted. "Yes, please." your smile grows with your arousal as you keep your lidded eyes on his handsome face, plastered with frustration.

You wait for his next move, smiling innocently at him, even though there is not a single innocent thought in your head right now. "I want you, Joost." you say into his ear. He leans into your neck, his lips and moustache ghosting over the sensitive skin. You think he might kiss you, but he licks a stripe on your neck, it makes you moan louder than you anticipated and suddenly he turns you around. His hand pressing down on the back of your neck pushing you into the desk.

"I can give you what you want." he presses his crotch against you. It makes you gasp, you can feel he is big, it excites you to no end, just like the sound of the metal clacking, in the peripheral of your position you can see him undoing his belt and pushing his pants down just enough to free his erection. You were right, he is big – it will be a stretch, but so pleasurable, you are ready for anything he will give you. He wraps his hand around his dick, the tip already dripping pre-cum.

"You want this as bad as I do, don't you?" you ask, wiggling your ass at him.

He just groans in response, still working on his dick, looking down at you. In a swift motion, he flips your skirt up, exposing your panties to him.

"If you wanna pretend you're all angry with me you can, I always liked watching you get angry at other customers." you tease, feeling a new wave of arousal wash over you when you feel his eyes on you.

"Hurry up." you press yourself further into him.

He takes a hold of your hips, taking off your panties in a swift motion and slides his thumb down to your clit, rubbing slow teasing circles over it, effectively shutting you up. The hand he has on the back of your neck tightens against you as he watches your mouth open in a small o, your eyes rolling back in your head. "So fucking easy, I touch you a little and you behave," Joost says, his cock dripping pre-cum against your ass as he throbs watching your face contort from pleasure.

"I am not easy." you try to argue.

"No?" he speeds up his movements on your clit, the wet sound filling the room. "Look at you. I have barely touched you and you are already dripping wet." his fingers move to your hole, he dips one finger in, soon after the second finger follows.

You try to press your thighs together as he continues sliding his fingers in and out of you, but Joost is having none of that. His large thigh knocks your knees apart, keeping you spread open for him so he has full access to your pussy.

"M-mmmm" You moan, your ass wiggling back against him as you try to escape the intense pleasure he was giving you – or were you trying to get more? You are so lost in pleasure. "I want you inside. Put it in." you try to meet his eyes from your position. "Please."

He looks down at you, slowing down his movements, but not completely. "I don't have any condoms on me, sweetheart."

"That's okay. You can do it raw. I don't mind." you plead. "I am on the pill."

He grew even harder than before, your teary eyes and needy voice fogging his judgement. He spends a few more moments stretching you out on his fingers, listening to your moans, what makes you louder, making sure you are ready for him.

You whined at the loss of his fingers, but the feeling was soon replaced by the fat head of his cock. You reach your hand behind you, wrapping your hand around his cock. "Fuck." he exhales loudly as you move your hand from his head along the shaft. You rub the head up and down your folds, mixing his precum with your juices, making sure his cock was nice and wet before he fucked you. But also to hear more of his sounds, you could get drunk on every sound that leaves his mouth.

"Enough, baby. Or the fun will end far too soon for my liking." he moves your hand away.

"I am glad you are having fun, baby." you tease him at the use of a petname already. You wiggle your hips and hear a groan from him. "And you say I'm easy."

The smile from your lips changes into a moan, as you feel him catching his head against your entrance and pressing against it teasingly before he pulles back, making you whine. "Please."

"Please what?" he asks. You didn't miss the teasing tone in his voice, it was his turn to play with you now. "I need you inside. Please" you begged, pouting against his desk as you tried to look back at him, even though it is hard from your position. Joost releases the back of your neck to grab both of your wrists in one large hand, keeping them restrained against your lower back, as he slides his dick slowly into you. The stretch is there, but it is quickly replaced by pleasure when he starts to move dragging against your walls, there is no resistance at how wet you are.

He speeds up the pace of his hips against you, the slapping echoing louder in the room as he abuses your g-spot with his dick. "What's wrong? Too much?" Joost asks, faux sympathy laced in his voice. You can only moan in response. "That's too bad. You wanted this, so you're going to fucking take it." He groans.

He reaches down to rub your clit, feeling you clench around him. Your legs are shaking from the intense pleasure flooding your body. Joost's balls slapping harshly against your clit, making your brain turn to mush as he fucks you so deep.

He is getting embarrassingly close to his release, he hasn't gotten laid in awhile and you are making it so hard for him to last. He leans forward, his chest flush against your back as he crushes you with his weight, his hand restraining your wrists being crushed between your bodies, his mouth right against your ear as he says, "So fucking good for me."

Your eyes roll back in your head each time his fat tip brushes against your sweet spot deep inside you. "Would you have said yes to that guy asking you out?" He whispers, his deep voice in your ear sending goosebumps down your spine. His possessiveness makes you feel hot all over.

"Yes." you lie to see his reaction. "I wanted to agree."

"Oh yeah?" his thrusts get harder, both of his hand gripping your hips, moving you to meet his thrusts. "Would you let him fuck you like this?"

Your pussy squeezes tightly around his cock as he fucks you open for him. He keeps his weight against you, his balls slapping against your thighs making lewd noises to echo around the cafe. "Answer me."

"No." you confess. "I would have never gone with him. I already said I only want you."

"Good." he says and your moans increase in frequency, you are squeezing him impossibly tight. "I'm so close" you moan feeling the familiar pleasure spread in your lower stomach. His weight on you, the fact that it is a public place, empty but public nonetheless, his smell all around you, his sharp thrusts inside you make you closer to your peak by the second. "Do it. Cum all over my cock, pretty girl, c'mon." He coos into your ear, his own dick twitching inside you with his impending release as he keeps the same pace up, working you higher and higher to your orgasm.

Your eyes screw shut and your mouth falls open in a loud moan. "Yeah, that's it- oh fuck" Joost groans as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your moans sound shaky as the rest of your body jolts as it was wracked with your high.

Joost's hips still against your ass as his cock twitches inside you with every rope of cum he shoots deep inside. His balls clench with his cock as he releases inside you, groaning loudly against your ear. You whine back, keeping your thighs pressed together as he rolls his hips against you, letting your walls milk him entirely before he stops moving. "So good." Joost huffs as he comes down from his high, his body crushing yours even more as he relaxed against you from such intense orgasm.

He was still deep inside you and he could already feel how his cum was spilling out around his dick from how much he came. "It is getting hard to breathe..." you whisper against the desk, your cheek being squished into the wood by his body on you. Joost quickly stands up. "Sorry." he groans as he slowly pulls his spent cock out of you.

You hiss as he slides out of you. Your walls clenching around him in instinct, making him wince as your pussy hugs his tip before he slid it fully out of you. He reaches over your body to grab the tissues on the side of his desk, grabbing a couple as he wipes gently against your thighs. He cleans up himself and tucks back into his pants.

He helps you to your feet, you stand on shaky legs, reaching around his shoulders for support. He pulls your panties back up and fixes your skirt.

You can feel his arms wrap around your waist, helping you stand and come back to Earth. You realise you are hugging, he just came inside you, but you are melting at the simple hug.

"Thank you." you say quietly looking up at him from where your head lays on his shoulder.

"Thanking me? For what? Did I fuck you so well?" he asks, looking down at you, tucking a strand behind your ear. Something has changed in him, you can tell, he seems softer.

"For letting me stay." you say. "And yes, you did fuck well. I can still barely stand." you laugh.

He smiles at that, your words boasting his ego. "You can stay any time."

"Any time?" your voice comes out almost a squeak how excited you are.

"We are literally open 24/7." he says after a pause and laughs, you slap his chest lightly and laugh too.

#joost klein #joost klein rpf #joost klein x reader #joost klein smut #yapperwrites

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cheriladycl01 · 8 months ago

Note

Hiiii could you write about Carlos Sainz that he has a secret relationship with an Arab Muslim girl (she doesn't wear hijab) 24 years old, Y/N and Carlos' little sister her friend because they go to the same university from Madrid and Carlos always bothered her, he was always around Y/N whenever she was talking with a boy Carlos made them run away and that's how they became a couple but secretly it was due to Y/N's religion and Carlos likes to annoy her by teasing her face to face or sharing a message by pinching her side because she is ticklish and she also annoys him.

Thanks youu 💖

Romeo to my Juliet - Carlos x Reader

Plot: After studying at the University of Madrid, and making friends with Blanca Sainz you were constantly around her older brother Carlos who was … obviously obsessed with you!

A/N: Ive done research before writing this on Muslim culture and struggles, however I am not a person of colour, and do not want to cause any offence when writing this! Also the wording of this request did confuse me a little bit so I’m hoping I’ve got everything that you’ve wanted in here!

Carlos and you were two people you wouldn’t pin together. You were quiet and reserved whilst he was loud and expressive. You were shy, whilst he was confident. But it was those differences that actually made you the perfect pair.

Being in a secret relationship with the Carlos Sainz wasn’t easy, and neither is the story that came with it.

It started when you first applied to university. You got into the University of Madrid and your parents couldn’t be more happy as your father had work in Spain taken from the Middle East, so it wasn’t a difficult family move.

You were a very stylish girl despite being shy and with your outfits it wasn’t hard to catch the eyes on campus. And that was how you met Blanca Sainz.

It was a colder day in Madrid, around November and you were in one of your favourite winter time outfits that’s kept you warm and cozy, still not completely used to the cold winters Europe have compared to the Middle East.

You had this Burberry scarf on, a gift from you father and a gust of win caught you, immediately your hands grabbed for your skirt leaving your scarf to fly off from around your neck.

“Oh my gosh” you gasp as you tried to reach out for it but it just flew off into the distance. You started to run after it, until you saw it hit a girl and practically strangle her.

“I’m so so so sorry! The wind … and it just … and oh my gosh I’m so sorry, it hit you!” You gasp at the girl who looks over you before laughing.

“It’s … a scarf I’m fine” she giggled.

That day you guys got coffee on campus before getting to know each other and you’d been fast friends since.

It wasn’t until the end of your second year in university, your mum and dad had moved back home to the Middle East. And you didn’t know what to do about summer break.

Blanca actually invited you to her family trip to Mallorca and to stay with her in her family home.

You felt bad, so you suggest the first few weeks are spent in your family home in Dubai. And she definitely didn’t want to turn that down.

So of course you guys spent the summer, tanning, in your pool playing games with your mum and dad when they were free and going to get ice cream.

“Your house is insane, what the hell does your mum and dad do!” She asked looking around the 6 bedroom Villa your family owned.

“I don’t actually know, but he’s a business owner of some sort” you giggle, always too bored to listen to your father explain his career.

“There’s an aquarium in your kitchen island …” she points at it, mouth open wide.

“Yeah, excessive i know but my dad adores his fish”

“And your house it on the beach! AND there’s a pool? I don’t even know if I want to see the garage!” She exclaims.

“Mmmmmm yeah my dads also a car collector. He actually left some in Spain in the house there” you offer.

“Your like so humble though! I - WHAT?” She asks in shock and you just laugh her off.

You guys definitely enjoyed your time in Dubai and your parents loved her, she was invited back for the Christmas holidays too.

Then when you got to Spain you met the rest of her family.

“Mum dad, this is my friend Y/N” Blanca offers as you enter the home which was a beautiful Spanish Villa.

“Ah Y/N we’ve heard so much about you from Blanca when she calls” her mother smiles. Ana comes running down the stairs immediately pulling her sister into a hug.

“Ah you must be Y/N? Yes, you are gorgeous! Where are you from!” She grins pulling you into an unexpected hug.

“I’m from Dubai!” You smile and that night guy guys all get to know one another through board games.

It got to just after sunset when you realised that it was time to pray for Maghrib. You calmly excused yourself from the family. Blanca at this point knew when you had to pray and was always very respectful and actually intrigued at the way it all worked. She would be with you on campus in the pray room, or in a random corner of a cafe you guys were studying in and offer you her coat to kneel on if you didn’t have one.

She was the sweetest and most understanding friend you’d ever had.

However, this was the time you met her older brother Carlos. You were just finishing up, in Blancas bedroom when someone came into the room.

“Sorry Blanca, I didn’t mean to be long if I was!” You smile turning round only to see a confused man behind you.

“Erm sorry can I help you?” You ask and he still stands there with his big brown chocolate eyes just staring at you.

“A-sorry you must be, Y/N right? Blanca’s friend that she brought home?” He questions and you nod standing up, reaching out to shake his hand.

He looks down at it smirking before lifting it up and placing a gentle kiss on the edge making you gasp and go wide eyed.

“Well, welcome to the Sainz household. Are you excited about Mallorca?” He smiles and you nod, of course you were, you’d be waiting all summer for it.

And it was an unforgettable summer.

Carlos was ALWAYS around. He was like this little lost puppy and the only time you don’t think he was around was when you showered or slept. He bothered you the whole summer, interrupting you and Blanca when you were trying to tan, or would splash you in the pool when you were lounging on a lilo. He was a menace, but there was a certain type of endearment to it.

He was also insanely protective over you. Whenever you all would go out to bars or restaurants or clubs, you got a lot of male attention, which to Carlos wasn’t surprising.

You were the most beautiful person he thinks he’s ever seen, and he wants you all for himself.

“Hey Bonita, why don’t you come downtown with me, and I’ll show you a good time?” A random guy from the island had said to you in a club.

“I’m fine thank you, I’m here with friends” you smile pointing behind you to the table where Carlos Blanca and Ana are sat.

“I’m sure they won’t mind, come on. ¡Vive un poco!” He exclaims looking over you.

“She said she was fine, and I would mind” Carlos said in a gruff voice coming to stand behind you and hand on your shoulder.

The guy swiftly left, seeing who it was. You’d gotten used to the fact that Carlos would be noticed in public, you tried to stay out of it as much as possible. Whenever a fan came over you’d practically glue yourself to Blanca’s side.

But all the guys that came talking to you Carlos had them running away for one reason or another. Whether it was just him, being Carlos Sainz, or the look he gave them or what he whispered to them when you couldn’t here. They always left.

That was how Carlos and you ended up together. You were a modern day Romeo and Juliet. You knew your parents wouldn’t approve of the Spanish race car driver, just based on all the tabloid articles about him.

“We should leave” he said in a huff, he was always like this and a lot of the times that you left was because of Carlos’ changed mood.

“But we didn’t get here long ago!” You offer and he huffs again, getting more frustrated.

“Just, let’s just go home!” He says again, not touching you but giving you a look as if to say, I will drag you out of here.

“We need to get Blanca and Ana, we can’t leave them!” You say as you start to look around the club for the two girls, hoping they would protest to Carlos wanting to get you to leave.

“They’ll be fine, let’s just go. They are pretty preoccupied anyway” he nods towards them with their boyfriends and how they are dancing.

Next thing you know Carlos was dragging you home, poking at your side saying how you broke your good girl demeanour just to leave the club with him.

“I was in a club, I can’t be that good of a girl” you tease him back and he looks over at you with a sparkle in his eyes. Maybe it wasn’t even there and it was just from the street lights, but he looked so happy and content in this moment that you couldn’t help but stare.

After this summer, you and Carlos hide your relationship from everyone, you hated hiding it from Blanca the most as he would often come find you in Madrid after race weekends to keep you company.

And don’t even start about him at family venues. Despite Carlos wanting to keep the relationship as secret as you did because of the media, and your parents, he wasn’t very good at keeping his gestures subtle.

“Carlos, I haven’t seen you for a while. And whose this, a girlfriend?” One of his aunts comes over seeing you together chatting at a family reunion his mother had hosted after his race win.

He pinched your side teasingly as if to say that you guys must look good together. And as you look up at his face you can see that.

“No this is Y/N Blanca’s friend from university” he offers keeping up with the secret. And your look down smiling to yourself. It was fun in a way keeping up a little white lie that you were with Carlos.

“Shame, she’s a dime and you two would look great together” she winks before fluttering off elsewhere in the house.

“See someone else who thinks we look great together” Carlos says leaning down to meet your eye level making you blush.

“Carlos leave Y/N alone, you tease the poor girl enough you’ll give her a heart attack one day. Come on sweetie” his mother guides you away, you turn round to catch Carlos’ eye before poking your tongue out in a childish manner.

He shakes his head with a slight chuckles as he watches his mum pull you away to a different crowd of people and introduces you.

When you and Carlos would admit your relationship was unknown, but you knew you’d never been happier than you were with Carlos Sainz Jr.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

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caitlinbueckers · 11 months ago

Note

ok Ik you said Pazzi fic in studio but will never get the idea of Paige calling azzi mamas out of my head so just felt like I needed to share an idea for a blurb or to include in anything you write PAIGE CALLINF AZZI MAMAS

anon ur a genius but i am simply a fool who took this prompt and then ran with it and turned it into a random oneshot soooooo i apologize for the minimal use of ‘mamas’ but hope u like it anyway and will implement that in all my writing deadass

pet names.

paige bueckers/azzi fudd.

2.8K.

kinda bullshit rambling but a lil more of a structure to follow???

minimal nsfw so 18+ as fuck

Wait guys let me know how u rly feel bcuz im not suuuper happy w this one

at first, it’s a subtle change.

it’s not like paige is ever actually serious enough for her words to be taken to heart or with any ounce of meaning behind it— she’s a fucking idiot, and azzi was more than well aware of her incessant antics, and the fact that she just played too much.

so, of course it surprises her, but she can’t say it really means anything, until it does.

it’s funny to azzi, really, when recently, all of a sudden, paige will get caught up in her usual tangents that she’s started letting these random, little pet names slip from her lips, mouth moving so fast, almost as if she barely meant it, could barely even call it out herself.

it happens usually when they’re tired— or, at least when azzi’s tired, and paige is excited. sweat clinging to the back of azzi’s neck, her curls drawing up and away from the edges of her hairline, skin flushed and hot to the touch when paige is suddenly breezing past her. she’s somehow still in a jog despite the rigorous drills they’d done, oblivious to the redness of her face or the plastered strands of blonde hair against her forehead. she’s at the tail end of a conversation with KK, still grinning like a fool about whatever they must’ve been chattering about, yelling out some type of phrase or joke that only those two could conjur up.

azzi’s right eyebrow is already lifted, somehow already suspicious and unimpressed of her intentions when paige is launching straight into a new conversation, cheeks still pink and teeth on display as she skips backwards to keep her eyes on azzi.

“i think me an’ KK are ‘finna go play 2K when we get back to the dorms— i told her ass she doesn’t stand like, a single chance when I’ve been on my grind, and she don’t believe me, like, baby, you know i’ve been on that shit,” she clicks her tongue, rolls her eyes before she’s smacking azzi’s arm, giving her a sneaky grin, one that signaled whatever she was offering was really gonna be a delight, (it never was), “you should come chill. you don’t gotta play if you don’t want, you can always be my lil’ cheerleader.”

it wasn’t like her high energy, rapid movement behavior was anything unusual, but that little, barely missable word was.

baby. it rolls off her tongue like it’s been waiting around the whole time, lingering beneath the surface, waiting for the moment to strike. she says it with an ease of comfort she can’t necessarily place, and azzi doesn’t necessarily hate it, but it’s there, nonetheless.

it momentarily stunts her, but azzi still finds herself smiling— not from any type of fluster or flush miraculously, but one that she usually gives paige when she’s amused by her, eyes wide and exaggerated as she huffs out a chuckle. “that sounds… boring, honestly.” but, she’s laughing at the gape on paige’s face anywa, “i need to shower, dude, i don’t wanna watch video games.” she scoffs, before she grins at her, only because she knows it’ll piss paige off.

and it does, so, of course the walk out to the parking lot is filled with a whole lot of, ‘oh my god, bro, you’re so lame.’ or, ‘like, azzi, you can have a turn ‘forreal, like just come over for like, deadass a second.’

ultimately, and unsurprisingly enough, paige ends up getting her way. though, she’ll swear it’s only because azzi takes her shower, does some homework and is in the middle of taking out her braids when the word hits her again, and again, and again.

babybabybaby.

she can’t really blame the way she rolls her eyes despite herself. her and paige had been close for fucking ever, so there wasn’t necessarily much between them that was off limits, but it still resonated within her as something azzi couldn’t just brush off. whether that was more damaging than pretending it never happened, she didn’t have a single clue.

all she did know, was that paige bueckers got her way entirely way too much. so much so, that azzi has to let out an audible groan reserved only for paige, before she texts that she’s on her way over.

and yeah, whatever, maybe it wouldn’t matter so much if it was just a one-off, or if maybe their friendship wasn’t so fucking complicated in the first place.

but then, it does matter, because it doesn’t stop happening.

when paige is frustrated at her homework, sitting plainly with her legs at full extension in the study room with aaliyah, ice, and azzi, it leaves her lips in a huff of exasperation, “azzi, babe, this shit really makes no sense, swear.” even if she’s saying it in the voice that clearly states she hasn’t attempted it for nearly long enough to proclaim she doesn’t get it, “az, can you please just come check it out.” azzi can’t tell what’s worse; the fact that paige had said it, or the fact that nobody had even looked surprised that she did.

or when they’d gotten dressed for media day, everyone milling about as they try not to wrinkle their uniforms or crease their concealer, it’s paige (and eventually nika and aaliyah) that whoops and hollers during azzi’s solo pictures, something like, “yeaaaah princess! nation’s best, babyyyyy! work that shit!” followed by a series of whistles that sounded so off pitch it makes azzi snort, rolling her eyes as she purposely avoids the gaze that paige so obviously wants to capture, teetering at the edges of azzi’s peripheral with a grin so wide it threatens to make her blush.

and, she swears she doesn’t, and instead turns back to the photographer with cheeks only a touch pinker than they were previously, “sorry— can we do that again?”

really, the only time she’d ever allowed herself to actually enjoy it, was on the last night at the hotel after a game. it couldn’t have been later than two or three in the morning, paige and azzi having spent the majority of it whispering beneath the covers, anything to not wake up the two other girls asleep in the other double bed.

it’s not too bad, having to share beds— except that, paige is a chronic cuddler and azzi would rather sleep on the shitty futon than be subjected to paige’s unrelenting weight against her back, or her arms slung lazily over her, but it was because of that precise position that azzi could even hear the words when she says it.

“mmmh-,“ she hums tiredly first, speaking mostly out of her ass, like paige always did when got too tired and let herself start rambling “night, pretty girl.”

it’s soft, and sort of raspy— the way paige gets when she’s been screaming all night on the court, and azzi can really only tell by the amount of ibuprofen that she’d downed before bed being somewhat more than her usual, that she’s probably got a headache. it’s a voice she uses when she’s being sincere.

the quiet sentiment, however insignificant to anyone else, replays in her mind. almost like a secret. almost like the closer she keeps it to her chest, the harder it’ll be to lose it.

it makes her whole body warm all over.

her response comes a few beats later, when she’s sure paige has drifted, and nothing but her measured breath is puffing against azzi’s neck, heard only between the two of them.

“night, p.”

but then, suddenly, everything sort of changes. azzi doesn’t know when this part happened— maybe it’s between the time she kisses her at that bar, tipsy and too close, unaware of the camera that set the internet aflame, and now, where it was customary that paige did homework with her, or ate dinner with her or slept over all the time. perhaps, it’s one selective moment in the chaos between that had suddenly transformed paige’s subtle casualty of the pet names, to something more intimate. more for them, rather for anyone else.

or, maybe it was exactly where they knew they’d end up all along.

it’s after a night out, after neither of them had ever really questioned how this had became their routine. that now, it had become something unspoken, an inherent rule that was followed without it needing to be stated. that, when they got too fucked up with the team, and the ubers were being ordered, azzi and paige always went together, that the address would always end up being paige’s dorm, and that azzi would always be curling into purple sheets by the time she sobers up enough to sleep.

but, she’s not sober. she’s drunk, and her face is flushed hot, sticky with the bar atmosphere. “paige, you’re making me too hot.” azzi complains with an impatient lilt to her voice, lifting her right shoulder up to her neck as if to shrug paige off, but the girl is relentless, humming her denial as she slid a hand across azzi’s thigh, grasping it hard enough that her nails dug into the skin there.

“psh, you’re already hot, shut up.” the words are spoken clumsily, lips brushing against the bare skin of azzi’s shoulder with each word, while a sudden surge of annoyance and somehow gratitude courses through azzi for having worn a sleeveless top, “c’mere, mamas, ‘lemme lay on you.”

she’s being whiny, and it only makes azzi roll her eyes before her gaze flickers to the screen of the car, giving her another light elbow prod, only this time, a short, sneaking smile is crossing her face. “paige, ‘forreal, we’re about to be back anyway.”

this, somehow, only fuels her. “i’m wounded,” she complains, before she’s pressing a little smack of a kiss to azzi’s neck, “my girl’s so mean to me, shit.”

my girl.

what the fuck ever.

azzi should’ve demanded an explanation then, but she doesn’t.

in fact, there’s not an explanation waiting for them when they stumble into paige’s room, their hands in a tight grasp, pulling each other in so that they can both fall against the bed, and azzi really shouldn’t have been expecting one. it’s definitely not explained when they’re somehow under the blankets, and paige has an arm, long and lean, wrapped around azzi’s waist to end somewhere between her legs, fingers finding a rhythm that seems to pull the very air from azzi’s lungs.

it’s not what azzi was expecting to happen, and yet somehow they’d fallen into place like it something they’d done a million times. paige had undressed her, after azzi’s complaint of still feeling too hot, and paige— not even a singular bit sober— finds her hands along the bottom of azzi’s top, tugging it over her head before she tosses her an old basketball camp shirt that had been slung across her dresser.

“you gonna sleep in jeans?” is really what had started it, paige’s pointed tone making azzi’s face burn hot, but the smirk on her face never faltered. “you’re so annoying.”

because then, paige has her fingers hooking into azzi’s waistband, eliciting a string of giggles that escape because fuck, she’s ticklish and paige knows. “what? what am i doing?” the blonde is grinning too, snickering under her breath as azzi’s pants are yanked down her hips, kicked from her feet with minimal effort until azzi feels it. a featherlight kiss was placed to each of her scarred knees, the inside of her thigh, eyes flickering up to azzi’s hazy but steady gaze, “this okay?”

god, azzi hadn’t realized until just then how fucking okay it was.

it’s quiet, sensual even, the way that paige talks her through it— heel of her hand dragging endlessly against her swollen clit, fingers thick as they arched into her, teeth grazing the back of azzi’s shoulder with each word of encouragement.

“c’mon, mamas, jus’ like that.” had anyone known better, they’d think paige must’ve been getting off just to this, by the way her own voice hitched and caught, her own hard swallows that reverberated in azzi’s ear, each laced with little gasps as she plunged into her wetness.

but, azzi did know better— paige was absolutely getting off to it. her voice is all breath, crackling and barely audible, murmuring incoherent mumbles that make it almost incomprehensible to decipher, yet, azzi swears she can understand.

it’s in her ear, over and over, that heat and pressure between her legs building as her hips twitched involuntarily against her knuckles, feels the way they slide deeper within her and azzi lets out a noise that even she’s too embarrassed to recount. “fuck, i wanna hear that shit, need to hear you baby, please.”

it coaxes the orgasm straight from azzi’s core, thighs involuntarily squeezing around paige’s hands, to which the blonde is silent in muted awe. she watches with bleary eyes but bated breath, sitting up only a bit to really witness it. the way azzi’s face drew up, eyebrows furrowed and lips parting, the whimper edged breaths that huffed out of her, the tight clamping of her eyes shut.

“so fucking pretty,” each word is punctuated in a kiss, “so good.”

really, it should’ve been a lot worse for them the next morning. azzi can’t help the wave of a ground shaking realization she gets when she rolls over to inspect paige’s sleeping expression, lips slightly parted, her blonde hair mussed on the pillow behind her. there should’ve been some type of lingering awkwardness that hung above them, some type of trepidation or fear, maybe even regret.

it definitely wasn’t like they talked about it, but they’d also never quite gone this far. did they need to? probably, because azzi knew that the guilt would probably hit sooner or later.

in fact, azzi waits for it to hit, all the way until paige wakes up, and her eyes are a little puffy, watery blue and clear as she blinks up blearily at azzi like she’s the finest thing she’s ever laid eyes on (because she is), and whispers with a grin, “distracted by my beauty?”

she waits even until the next away game, when her legs are propped up over paige’s lap and her fingers are drumming absently against azzi’s thigh, humming something in her headphones with her eyes shut, looking like a complete idiot, before their eyes meet by chance when paige opens them, and suddenly, they’re both grinning.

she even waits for it to hit when the buzzer goes off after the fourth quarter of that game, an easy win, and confetti is thrown. it’s chaos really, with all the girls rushing through the tunnel to get back to the lockers. that is, until, paige pulls her aside for half a second, hidden away from the hungry eyes to press a solid, sweet kiss to her lips.

but it doesn’t end there. azzi waits for it during her injury, when enough nights in linoleum covered white floors with the constant smell of antiseptic start to pierce the inside of azzi’s brain, ruins her attitude enough that paige’s texts go unanswered. and yet, everytime azzi wakes up, the pain in her leg flared and angry, it’s paige that’s sat in the corner of the room, huddled under a shitty hospital blanket, waiting for her to wake up.

it went even as far as the loss against IOWA when the roles are reversed— after the excitement of final four had became real, after the grueling, rampant preparation, and then ultimately, a loss. it’s when azzi gets permission to stick around in paige’s hotel room until she gets back from the game, and the way that the blonde, finally in the safety of the four walls, found herself crumbling to azzi, becoming nothing but a shell of what everyone perceives her to be, everything paige wishes she fucking wasn’t.

it’s only then, that azzi finds herself returning the favor— arms wrapped tight around paige’s waist with a burning, sting in her own eyes that she can feel the moment she sighs against the crown of paige’s head. she can smell the sweat, the smell of a basketball court that had just gotten waxed, but really, azzi just smells paige, and that’s enough to give her the composure she needs to whisper against her head, “don’t be so hard on yourself, baby… you guys did so good.”

and they don’t talk about it, because they don’t need to. the same way they never had to ask the other when it came to the hospital or bus rides or homework dates or hotel rooms— it was unspoken, implied but never mentioned. the same way back when they’d met at USA camp, it was never a matter of conversation for their plays to work, it was all in the matter of a look, or a slight of hand.

and when the team starts asking, giving paige shit about how she’s missing video game nights with KK or azzi’s getting shit about caroline missing her study partner, everybody already knows. when paige tells nika, voice only a little timid as she gives her a condensed version of the last few months like it was a ground shaking news, head tilted to lean on the older girls shoulder, the brunette bursts into laughter. ‘finally, took you guys long enough.’

and really, it was a wonder they hadn’t been like this the whole time.

a wonder that it had taken this long in the first place.

#paige bueckers #pazzi #azzi fudd #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x azzi fudd #writing asf #anon asf

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jeon-ify · 1 year ago

Text

thoughts - choi san ft. mingi (part 2)

a/n: idk girl… i kinda want mingi to fuck her with tied up san and make him watch 😩

warnings: mean!dom mingi, sub!tied up san, swearing, pussy slapping, fingering, squirting, mingi fucks reader in front of san, spit play, face slapping, degradation, titty slapping, etc. if i missed anything lmk !

enjoy! not proofread :)

—————————————————————————————

the 2 weeks went by extremely fast, considering how you’ve spent it with san the entire time— in and out of his dorm. you felt guilty, but he was filling that void for you.

the drive to the airport felt like a dread. you wanted mingi to come back, honestly. but you didn’t want to go back to the vanilla sex that you’d been having with your boyfriend from this point on. you pull into the lane with doubt, maybe he’s upped his sex game, maybe he doesn’t want sex anymore. you think about ways to bring up the topic, but it just doesn’t flow.

you swerve into the lane to wait for mingi. after 20 minutes, you get out of the car and wait in the airport lobby for him. he arrives shortly, running to hug you and seeming so tired after working so hard. he wanted to surprise you with his project, but the last thing that was on your mind throughout those two weeks were what he was doing in japan.

“my baby, i missed you so much! how was japan?” you exclaim. he hugs you tightly, kissing you all over your face. your heart ached before him, not knowing how to handle the guilt.

how could you?

“it was so great, but i missed you so much, y/n.” he relaxes his head on your shoulder through the hug, your body warmth making him sleepy.

you carry his backpack and take his duffles to the car as he follows you out. he sits beside you, turning up the radio and listening to your playlist. “what’d you do while i was gone? we barely spoke.”

his head turns to face you as he questions you. it feels like you’re being convicted of a felony, your heart falls to your ass as you try to come up with a lie. he watches your breathing change and your face flush with red.

“honestly i was super bored. i…” you pause, taking in a deep breath and chuckling before continuing your bullshit, “don’t know how i managed. how was your filmmaking? was it exciting?”

he stays quiet, his face straight, plastered with suspicion.

“it was exciting, thanks. what’d you do the day i left? yeosang said you stopped by. what was that about?” you literally cannot come up with anything else, so you decide to ‘tell the truth’.

“i was bored so i hung out with wooyoung and jongho for a little bit but then i went home, why?” you reach a red light as mingi grabs your thigh, squeezing tightly. he squeezes almost too tight that it begins to hurt.

“mm, but they weren’t at the house, y/n. what were you doing there?” he looks out the window, trying to think of what he’ll do when you confess and make it easier so he’s not worried about if you’re cheating or not— he’d just know. he hopes he’s wrong, though.

“n-no. mingi, you’re hurting me.” he squeezes your inner thigh as the car swerves just a little bit out of the lane. you feel like he’s gonna rip a chunk of your thigh off of you, tears welling up in your eyes.

“yeah? it didn’t hurt me when i heard you on the phone fucking san? do you think i’m stupid, y/n? i told you not to go near san, didn’t i?” you fall silent as your ears begin to ring.

he knew.

but san didn’t say anything?

but he heard your voice.

“fucking answer me,” he brings his hand up to your throat to cut off your airways as a threat to make you speak.

“y-yes,” you gasp. you literally feel like your body gave up on you as your limbs all fall numb into mingi’s touch.

“why are you fucking my friends? the one friend i told you to fucking stay away from. he’s married, hm? you’re home-wrecking, darling. are you a whore? are you san’s whore?”

“n-no, mingi, please,” you moan. he lets you go as you pull into the driveway of your home, seeing a familiar car parked in the front.

leaving all his luggage in the trunk, he slams the door closed as he goes to open your door. he pulls you out by your wrist, slamming the door shut behind you and dragging you into the house. you stop in your tracks when you see a familiar pair of shoes on the doormat.

“keep walking.” he demands. your legs shake in fear and somehow, arousal. mingi has never been this rough with you, and somehow it sends a shock down to your core.

you slowly walk over to your shared bedroom, opening the door and seeing what you thought you’d never see— san on your bed.

you stop and stare at the man on mingi’s side of the bed. he’s sat up straight with his hands tied behind his back, his feet tied together, and a black piece of duct tape on his mouth. a layer of sweat envelopes his toned torso, his black hair slowly moves with every breath he takes. the silver chain he wears is now covered in beads of sweat as the veins in his neck become more prominent. you would be lying if you said that you didn’t want to bounce on his dick at that given moment.

you feel mingi’s chest press against your back as his hand moves to wrap itself around your throat. he feels your heartbeat through your neck, gulping in fear.

“what’s wrong, baby? cat got your tongue?” his deep voice grumbles in your ear. his teeth graze against your ear, sending chills down your body.

“m-mingi, what’s going on?” you shake and try to break away from mingi’s grasp, not breaking eye contact with the man tied up on your boyfriend’s side of the bed.

“you thought i wouldn’t know if you were whoring around with my friends? i’m many things, but i’m not stupid.” he lets go of you, shoving you further into the room and closer to san.

you hear san whimper, his head thrown back in irritation from how he can’t fuck you into oblivion in front of your boyfriend.

san loved so many things about you— but what he loved the most was how turned on he gets whenever you get helpless. you’re like a brainless whore he wants to fuck over and over— just for him to use.

it’s almost like a continuous battle between the two— and hopefully, your boyfriend would win. you’re rooting for him.

san groans something that you make out to say “take this off,” but he’s enjoying every minute of it. he feels like he’s gonna cum in his pants from the way mingi is undressing you.

mingi takes your sweats off first, then proceeds to taking off your tanktop. you gasp and try to cover your chest as he takes your bra off with only one hand. when he sees your hands fly up to cover yourself, he pins your wrist between his large hands.

“let’s not act all modest now, y/n.”

he proceeds to sliding your soaked panties off, a string of arousal connected to your pussy makes mingi groan, and san’s eyes roll.

mingi pulls you by your hair and bends you over the dresser in front of san. he stands beside your bare body, staring at san through the reflection of the mirror. both of their breaths pick up at the sight, mingi glaring at san and watching him stare at his naked girlfriend.

“i’m gonna ask you once, y/n. is he better?” mingi challenges you in answering the question you fear your life to answer. of course san was better at sex, but you’d never admit to your boyfriend.

“fuck! no, please—“ you feel your legs weaken as mingi plunges two fingers into your sopping cunt, not giving you the chance to answer his question. he lands a sharp slap onto your cunt, making your body shiver.

“no?” his fingers move quickly, feeling the way you’re about to cum all over his fingers. he feels you sucking him in and clenching around his long fingers, so he pulls out before you could release.

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry, mingi.” your breath hitches as you cry out in desperation for a release— and a hint of guilt. you literally feel like karma is biting you in the ass, no matter how pleasured you are.

with your juices all over his middle fingers, mingi’s tall and lean figure walks over to san and rips the tape off of his face. san winces in pain, a smirk plastered all over his face. a soft red tint blankets his skin as he takes in a deep breath and licks his puffy lips.

“open— there you go. taste my girlfriend’s cum all over my fingers.” mingi groans— impossibly but somehow possibly— growing harder at the action of his friend sucking your precum off his fingers.

“she tastes phenomenal, mingi. you’ve missed out.” san breathes out deeply after mingi releases his fingers with a pop. you watch the entire scene happen before you, your thighs clenching with need. you’re taken aback when mingi grips the back of san’s head, forcing him to stand up straight.

“y/n, come here.” you follow his command weakly. you immediately fall to your knees before the two men, legs shaking as mingi moves the strand of hair that delicately falls on your forehead. he makes you seem so innocent, but he knows, and so do you and san know, that that is far from what you are.

san watches as you drool before your boyfriend. “open your mouth, pretty girl,” san speaks up as he lands a wad of spit onto your tongue. you swallow with pride, watching mingi glare at the encounter before him.

“you just open your mouth to anyone, mm?” mingi is upset, but san is so fucking turned on, he literally feels like he’s gonna explode.

you (un)intentionally unzip mingi’s pants, looking san in the eyes. you pull the band of his boxers down, revealing his aching cock, just for you to claim into your throat. you lick a long stripe up the length, not breaking eye contact with san as you so whore-ishly suck on your boyfriend’s cock.

“thinking of me, butterfly? remember me when you fuck him, ‘kay?” the man says as you take mingi’s entire length into your mouth, the aching tip touching the back of your throat making your eyes water.

as his hand starts forming a makeshift ponytail and pushing your head down, san wishing he can break free from the restrains on his hands. he so badly wants to pull out his painful cock and start stroking himself before the both of you.

“mingi, you’re so big. how’s she gonna take you?” san questions, his breath hitching and deepening.

“she’s been stretched out enough. i’m sure you’re loose now from all the dick you’ve been taking while i was gone, yeah?” he pulls you off of his length to throw you onto the bed like a ragdoll.

you gasp at the action, san’s head turning to face you as he whines.

“please, untie me. wanna cum so bad.”

mingi ignores his friend’s cries, moving down to spit on your abused cunt. he slides his tank top off, throwing it somewhere in the room as he leans down to plant a kiss on your forehead. a sign of care slightly shows in mingi’s eyes, but the way he plunges his cock so hard into you immediately blocks out the kind gesture he gave you. your legs jolt at the powerful and radical thrusts that mingi gives you, crying out for mercy.

“fuck, mingi sl-slow down! it hurts,” you’re not sure if you want him to stop, but it hurts so good.

he lands a painfully sharp slap onto your right tit, making you wince out in pain and pleasure.

“yeah? but you can fuck san for days and not say anything? who’s hurt, darling? which one of us is really hurt?” you feel so fucking guilty. your eyes well up in tears as you try to apologize, because mingi’s given you nothing but love, respect, support, and most of all, he understood you the way no one else could.

how could you do something so terrible to him?

“i’m sorry! i’m so fucking sorry-“ you’re reaching your orgasm, cumming on the base of mingi’s cock. he feels you clenching around him as his thrusts come to a slow. his hand rubs on the red area on your chest, leaving a kiss on the irritated spot.

“yeah? how sorry? use your words,” his deep voice is so beautiful, it almost makes you cum again from the way he’s talking in your ear.

“f-for fucking your friends, i— fuck, please—“ you cry out.

while san watches, a spot on his pants becomes a darker shade, indicating that he literally came in his pants. he’s been moaning and whining and whimpering, all while mingi fucks you senseless.

“listen to me, hyung. if you ever get near my girl again, i’ll fucking kill you, you hear me?” mingi doesn’t face san, nor does he blink. he doesn’t break eye contact with you as he pounds into you deeply, hitting your cervix over and over, making you squirt around him and staining his sheets. his hand caresses your cheek as his warm minty breath fans into your face. his eyes roll to the back of his head, listening to your cries.

san doesn’t answer. instead, he groans and tries to wriggle his hands out of the restraints. he watches his friend fuck you hard, wishing it were him. he’s fucked you all 14 days, he just can��t get enough.

neither can mingi— as he licks up the tears that flow onto your cheeks.

“why are you crying, hm? do you feel sorry for being a slut behind my back?” mingi’s faux concern masks his lust, making you clench around him for the fourth time tonight.

“you’re clenching me so tight, oh my goddd, ‘m not going anywhere,” he pulls out before you can cum around him, standing up to untie san.

“fuck, thank you, mingi.” san hurries to take his pants off and stand before you, stroking his painfully hard cock. mingi watches as san gets off on his own girlfriend, not understanding how he hasn’t killed him yet for looking at you.

“you can fuck her, and don’t hold back. she likes it hard.” mingi speaks up, making your heart drop to your ass as you’re about to cheat on your boyfriend again, in front of him.

“m-mings—“ you’re silenced by san’s hand around your mouth as he immediately plunges his long and familiar cock into your wet, stretched out pussy. he pounds into you almost in an animalistic manner, making your vision cloud and your stomach clench from the painful orgasm.

“don’t call out for him, i’m the one fucking you, look at me.” he groans out as he grabs your chin, forcing you to watch him fuck you again.

mingi sits where san was, jerking off his long and hard length from how hot it was that you were so helpless and ‘innocent’ from fucking someone else.

“slap her.”

san lands a sharp slap on the left side of your face, grabbing your jaw and moving you back into place just to slap you again.

he repeats the action one more time as you slap him back. his thrusts stop. feeling disrespected and taken aback, san thrusts into you harder as your body jolts and shakes. you squirt again, all over san as mingi whimpers and groans from beside you.

“shit! i’m cumming, fucking cumming, mingi. where—“ you whine out again, mingi standing up and reaching his orgasm as well.

“me too, fuck— cum on her tits, all over her.”

“cum all over me, please—“ you whine out with a dry throat while both men release their load all over your chest, even on your chin.

“so much cum, just for my bitch, yeah?” mingi groans breathily as you nod for him in response.

san walks away to clean up and put his clothes on in the bathroom, leaving the two of you alone.

“go near that fucker again, i’ll kill the both of you in a heartbeat. am i clear?” he says with a doe eyed smile as if he was a puppy, planting a kiss on your plump lips.

“y-yes.”

————

i—

my god.

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putellasawfc · 1 year ago

Text

exposed !

jen beattie x arsenal!reader

( a/n: omgggg this has been in the works FOREVER, before jen announced leaving arsenal which i am still not over tbh. but it’s finally here! especially dedicated to @mccabeswife since she requested it ! i hope you enjoy ! )

another media day at the arsenal training grounds meant a lot of bored footballers sat around waiting for their turn in front of the camera, the current youtube video being filmed was for three pairs only, another one of those ‘guess what the person is saying whilst you wear sound cancelling headphones’ videos that people went crazy over. the lucky girls who had been paired together for said video had been chosen at random, and you had ended up with leah with frida, manu with katie and viv with lotte which meant the rest of you were trying to entertain yourselves elsewhere.

which wasn’t really an issue when you were all shoved into a recreational room with an assortment of snacks, gossip and phones in hand. beth, the self proclaimed quidnunc of the group had been sat in between you and alessia for the last ten minutes, and had yet to stop telling you about the ongoing drama in the west ham team that she had found out about at an event over the weekend. you paid attention for as long as you could, sharing looks with alessia as you both struggled to keep up with the fast paced ramblings coming from the yorkshire woman but beth was none the wiser.

you felt a dip in the sofa to the left of you, the last bit of space being occupied by someone who threw an arm around your shoulder and when you got a whiff of the familiar perfume she sprayed on every morning, you knew exactly who it was.

you turned your head and smiled at the culprit, jen sat sporting her usual messy bun on top of her head and cheeky smile on her face. she pulled you further into her side and gently squeezed your upper arm, “she still talking your ear off?”

you huffed a laugh at that, looking to see if beth had heard but she was still too busy ranting and raving, now focusing her attention on alessia since you were now occupied elsewhere, poor girl.

“something like that.” you hummed, snuggling up to your taller girlfriend who was happy to let you lean on her. “you finished your influencer activities?” you teased, referring to the number of tiktok’s she had forced some of the girls to take part in since they all arrived.

“aye, i get a lot of love and appreciation from the fans for providing them with five star, behind the scenes content i’ll have you know.” she told you, “but yeah. letting steph take over for now, think she’s really getting into those football murder mystery filters.”

you glanced over to where she nodded towards, indeed seeing steph with her phone in her hand obviously recording herself, with kyra and vic sat either side of her laughing at the story that was unfolding on the filter.

“what happens when she steals your tiktok crown?” you asked with a sly smirk, knowing the older woman would have a meltdown if steph’s content starting getting more love than hers.

“don’t jinx it.” she shoved you lightly, “i’d have to post something outrageous to get me my title back. know i have some mugshots of you deep in my camera roll, i’m sure they’d come in handy.”

“you wouldn’t!” you gasped, sitting up slightly in your seat and the scottish woman laughed at your reaction.

you knew she had accumulated a hefty amount of embarrassing pictures of you over the year that you’d been together, ranging from you asleep with your mouth open to you pulling the ugliest faces whilst you awaited the impact of the ball to hit you during games.

“then you better hope steph gets bored quickly.” she shrugged.

you playfully rolled your eyes at that, finally relaxing back down beside her, grabbing ahold of her hand that was hanging over your shoulder, interlocking your fingers as you did.

“you’re so mean to me, sometimes i don’t know why i agreed to be your girlfriend.” you shook your head as if you were disappointed with yourself, trying your best to hold back the smile that was itching to come out.

that didn’t last long though, as only a moment later the defender jumped up from her spot on the sofa and leaned most of her body weight on you, her hands flew to grab either side of your face so she could get a good view of it as she began to lather every inch of your skin in kisses, her lips not leaving one patch of your face untouched. your squealed and thrashed wildly beneath her, your shoulder knocking into beth’s who finally halted in her gossiping at the interruption.

she kept going, stopping for a second to grin at your flushed state. “you fancied me too much to say no to being my girlfriend you goon.” and with that she continued her loving attack on you.

you wriggled around, laughing as you fought for breath and attempted to push her from you but she wasn’t budging.

“jen! stop, i can’t breathe.” you shrieked between giggles, hands gripping at her red jumper, “you’re right! you’re right, please let me go!”

finally deciding you’d had enough, jen let go of you and you caught your breath as you sagged against beth with a hand on your chest. “you could’ve killed me then, i hope you know.”

“so dramatic you are.” she tutted, pulling gently on your arm so that you were sat upright once again. “now gimme a proper one.”

you grinned, and gladly leaned in towards your girlfriend, giving her exactly what she wanted as your lips met halfway and you sunk into the display of affection almost immediately, your lips moving together in unison before you felt a harsh nudge in your side.

you yelped and pulled back, glaring at beth who only looked proud of what she’d done.

“not in front of the children please.”

the next day you arrived back at the training grounds, this time with a full day of practice ahead of you rather than a day in front of the cameras which you were very much looking forward to. media day was always fun, especially when you were partnered up with the right person and yesterday you were lucky enough to have gotten cloe as your pal for the day, so you had no complaints.

but you were excited to get back to doing what you loved, especially with an important match ahead of you. you wanted to get your head in the game and make sure you were one hundred percent ready to face the opposing team on sunday.

everything was normal for all of five minutes, you walked in and greeted some of the staff lingering near the entrance before you headed off to the changing rooms so you could change into your training kit, but before you even had chance to push the door open, a body came barrelling into yours, making you stumble on your feet and your arm fly out to steady yourself against the wall.

you looked to the person with furrowed brows, your jaw dropped in shock at the scare you’d just gotten. “christ steph, what’s up with you?”

she looked worried, as her hands gripped onto both of your arms and the aussie looked behind her where leah and lia were approaching, with much calmer demeanours. “i have to tell you something before you find out from someone else, but you have to promise you won’t be mad at me.”

you eyed her warily, your head cocking to the side before you looked over to the two other girls with narrowed eyes. “what is it?”

“no! you have to promise first.”

you rolled your eyes at that, beginning to panic a little as your mind ran wild with possibilities of what information steph could be withholding from you.

“fine, i promise. now tell me.” you told her, not really meaning it, you just needed her to spill the beans before you tired yourself out from overthinking.

“i kind of, may have, accidentally posted a tiktok that had you and jen kissing in the background of it.” she winced, waiting a beat to carry on. “but i promise it was a genuine mistake! if i had known it was in there i would’ve never, ever posted it i know you guys didn’t want your relationship to be public yet, and i am so sorry please don’t be mad at me.”

“what?”

a stupid question, most definitely but it was the only thing that you could manage to say at this moment in time. you didn’t know how to feel or what to say as you processed the information just given to you by steph who was still watching you carefully, as if she was awaiting some kind of wild outburst.

an array of different emotions passed through you simultaneously, you were annoyed at steph for outing your relationship on a platform that spread content like wildfire. no doubt screenshots and recordings of the tiktok had already been shared to the likes of twitter and instagram, posts made that couldn’t be taken back now. how could steph have let that happen? why did she not spot it before she pressed post?

you were also panicking. did jen know? would she be annoyed? would this change things between you? you’d both agreed when you first began dating, after months of mutual pining, that when you got together you would keep your relationship as private as you could, for as long as you could.

something that was unfortunately common amongst women’s football, was how invasive some fans could be in the players lives. you had seen how they could overstep boundaries and pry too deep into stuff they didn’t need to know about many times, which would then jump to them spreading their opinions without a care about who was on the other side of their sometimes vicious comments. you’d been witness to it ruining some of your friends relationships, and you didn’t want that to happen to you and jen. jen who you loved, who loved you back, jen who you could see yourself marrying one day in the future. so you had come to the smart, unanimous decision to keep it hush for as long as you could. but now, it was out there.

“does jen know?” you asked next, deciding that was the priority for you right now.

steph shook her head, “no. i was gonna tell her but she’s been talking to jonas since she got in.”

jen had set off an hour prior to you, with fans sometimes lingering outside the training grounds in hopes of getting a photo with some of you before you came in, you didn’t want to risk them seeing you and jen showing up together a few times too many and start to put two and two together, so more often than not you took separate cars and showed up at different times.

you nodded at that, and took in a deep breathe as you tried to think of what to do next. seeing as it was already out, there was no way you’d be able to backtrack or deny that you were in a relationship with jen, so the only real option you had left was to come clean to the fans about it all. you just weren’t sure how to.

“are you still my friend?” you were brought back into the present by steph’s quiet voice, her eyes were still scanning you warily and you probably would’ve laughed at how silly she sounded if you weren’t the person on the other end.

“course i’m still your mate steph.” you told her, and the blonde visibly deflated in front of you. “just wish you had the common sense to check what’s going on in your tiktok’s before you posted them.”

you were half joking, half serious. but when steph tutted and shoved you playfully, you didn’t have the heart to be upset with her anymore. it’s not as if she had posted it on purpose, and with how she reacted when she approached you, you were sure she’d been beating herself up over it since she’d realised what she’d done.

“see! told you she wouldn’t be mad, got yourself all worked up over nothing.” leah spoke up, and then you remembered her and lia were still lingering in the back.

“yeah well, i wouldn’t have blamed her if she was.” steph said, and you pulled the aussie in for a side hug.

“it’s okay steph, just gotta find jen now and spill the beans.”

it was only twenty minutes later when jen joined you all in the changing rooms, already clad in her arsenal training kit and with her water bottle in hand, she spotted you almost instantly and her face brightened when she realised you had arrived whilst she’d been busy.

“when did you get here?” she asked, pulling you into a hug which you gladly reciprocated.

“not too long ago.” you told her, rubbing your hands up and down her back. “got something i need to tell you though.”

she pulled back a little at that, looking down at you with a raised brow. “should i be worried?”

you shrugged, “i mean, it’s not anything to panic about but … i don’t know if you’re going to like it.”

you nodded your head towards the door, gesturing to the empty hallway on the other side where you could both have the conversation privately with nobody there to eavesdrop. jen nodded in agreement, retracting from your embrace and pulling on your hand to tug you in the direction you had just motioned towards.

now standing in the vacant corridor, you leaned your back against the grey wall and watched jen as she stood in front of you with her hands on her hips as she waited for you to speak, which you did after a sigh.

“steph practically ambushed me this morning, she um, did something stupid.” you began, scratching your head as you thought about how to put what happened into words. “you know all those tiktoks she was messing around with yesterday?”

you waited for jen to nod, which she did a second later so then you continued. “well she posted some of them and in one of them, it has you and i kissing in it, in the background. and it’s definitely too late for us to do anything about it.”

you stood with baited breath, similar to how steph had been when she was breaking the news to you, all of a sudden wishing you had the power to read minds as jen’s poker face came out in full force, the brunette not hinting to how she was feeling at all. at least she wasn’t tugging at her loose strands of hair, or biting at her nails, two big tell tale signs that she was stressing which you’d picked up over the months you’d spent together, which was a small win you were willing to take.

“well i guess the secrets out then.” jen shrugged, her hands remaining on her hips as you looked at her slightly puzzled.

“you’re not bothered?” you asked, half expecting a bigger reaction from the woman who was always so careful with how you interacted in public.

“i mean, it’s not great is it?” she asked, “but honestly, a part of me is kind of glad its out there now. i love our little bubble, not having to deal with people we don’t even know deciding whether we’re a good fit or not and all that stuff. but at least now, we don’t have to stress over the littlest things everytime we go out together.”

you listened to the points she made, nodding along with pursed lips in agreement with what she was saying. one of the most annoying things about have a relationship that wasn’t public, was having to be on guard everytime you both wanted to spend time with eachother out of the house, leading to the two of you just ending up having most of your date nights at home instead, not having the energy to make sure there were no prying eyes wherever you went.

“and we don’t have to watch what we post on social media. no more making sure our stories don’t give away that we’re at the same place, or triple checking that none of our stuff’s in the background.” she added on, and your lips quirked up in amusement at the amount of times you’d had to quickly delete a story or instagram post when you realised there was a beattie shirt in the background, or anything else that gave away who you were with.

“so this is kind of like a blessing in disguise?”

she grinned, “yeah something like that. but don’t tell steph i said anything, she’ll be gloating for weeks.”

you laughed at that, finally being able to relax properly for the first time since steph had practically jumped you whilst you were on your way to get changed. jen approached you, clearing the few steps that kept her away from you and pulling you into her warm embrace, pressing a kiss to your forehead as she did. “at least now we don’t have to do any big, relationship reveal post. you know how much i’ve been dreading that.”

you hummed, “think we should get steph to do a big post for us? i’m sure her drafts are stacked with videos of us.”

“we can ask. but not yet, wanna pretend i’m really mad at her for a bit so i can bribe her into pampering me for a bit.”

you scoffed at that, giving the scottish woman a faux disgusted look. “you’re evil beattie.”

“you love me.”

#jen beattie #jen beattie x reader #jen beattie one shot #jean beattie imagine #woso #woso community #woso x reader #awfc x reader #awfc one shot #awfc imagine #woso imagine #woso one shot

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joelalorian · 10 months ago

Text

Petals of Affection - Part I

A floral mystery in three parts featuring Jackson!Joel x f!reader

Summary: A secret admirer gifts you a different flower and a riddle ten times before you put the clues together and discover that he's been right in front of your face the whole time.

Written for @morallyinept's Flora & Fauna challenge. Please check out all the wonderful works created in Jett's honor!

I know enough about flowers to fill a thimble. Really, all I know is how to kill them, accidentally or otherwise. Everything to do with the flowers in this story is courtesy of Google, so please suspend disbelief at how some of these could exist in Wyoming, yada yada. I just picked ones that fit the narrative.

Word count: 4,284

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, humor, cursing, gratuitous use of poor floral descriptions, scheming, clueless reader, fluff, eventual smut, alcohol, food, coffee, terms of endearment. POV flops around like a fish outta water. Reader has no physical description aside from having hair that gets frizzy with humidity and often dirt-covered hands, because greenhouses, ya know? No use of y/n, none whatsoever.

Dividers courtesy of the wonderful @saradika-graphics. Gif chosen because of the wonderful floral wallpaper ;)

Hope you enjoy!

Part II | Part III | Masterlist

An oasis in a world rife with death and devastation, you clung to the life the reinforced walls of Jackson offered. After years of struggling to survive each new day, you felt like you could finally take a deep breath. Everyone was no nice and welcoming, some more than others, and you slipped right into the fabric of the small community.

Within a month of your arrival, Maria assigned you to the greenhouses, having picked up on your knowledge and love of plants – particularly flowers. You must have bored her to death one too many times regaling the language of flowers over a bottle or two of aged wine while seated together on her couch. The two of you became fast friends, the kind that felt like you’ve known each other forever. It was exactly what you needed, longed for even, after long bouts of solitude.

Being close to Maria meant you visited their house often. And equally often, you would find Joel Miller there, deep in conversation with his brother about one matter or another. His eyes always flashed when you entered the house, and he’d stop mid-sentence to greet you with an effortless, “Howdy darlin’” as you followed Maria to the kitchen.

Soon enough, the soft greetings turned into more substantial conversation as the four of you dined together or gathered at Maria and Tommy’s for game night, playing whatever new board game the men found while on patrol. Laughter and friendly arguments filled the air on those nights, making it easier than ever to forget about the carnage and desolation beyond the walls.

Tonight, the four of you played Scrabble – it took Tommy finding three sets of the game to get all the letter tiles required to actually play – and your belly hurt from how hard you laughed whenever Maria challenged Joel on a word. He was better at the game than you would have thought – his reserved nature and southern twang not giving away how well-read he was.

“Denied! Fartlek is not a word, Joel. There’s no way!” Maria insisted, not willing to give into Joel’s apparent triple word score on the word that would have him take the lead in total score.

“Is to a word,” Joel returned stubbornly, refusing to remove the letters from the board. “Look it up if ya don’t believe me. It’s in the fuckin’ Oxford dictionary.”

“Oh, it is, is it? Is it in the Cambridge one, too? What does it mean then?” Maria wasn’t backing down, ripping a battered dictionary right out of Tommy’s hands to see for herself.

“Hey! I was looking it up,” Tommy yelped, shooting a wink at you as you both watched the drama unfold.

Ignoring his brother, Joel rattled off something about the word being related to running. At least, that’s what you thought he said, you were too busy fighting back tears from laughing too hard. Sure enough, he was right.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Maria grumbled, flopping back into the couch cushions. “It’s a training technique for running. Screw you, Miller.”

Unsurprisingly, the game ended shortly thereafter with Joel the victor by a healthy margin. After helping to clean up, you offered appreciation and hugs to Maria and Tommy for a delightful evening. “Next time, let’s play something less…”

“Cerebral?” Maria supplied with a frown.

“Annoying?” Tommy interjected with a grin.

Joel stayed quiet, a half-smile gracing his lips as he waited for you to finish your sentence.

“Just something that doesn’t require a dictionary or cause so much arguing,” you laughed. Waving between Joel and Maria, you added, “You two can never agree on anything! See you all tomorrow.”

“I’ll walk you home, darlin’,” Joel said, rushing to put his jacket and boots on and catch up with you. When you opened your mouth to let him know you’d be fine on your own, he added, “Gotta check in on Ellie anyway.”

Maria and Tommy shared a look as Joel opened the door to usher you through. You caught them and frowned, feeling like you weren’t in on a joke or something.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the last remnants of winter’s snowy wrath crunching beneath your boots the only sound. You looked up at the night sky as you walked, gasping at the flash of colors in the otherwise darkened sky. Joel stopped, following your gaze upwards as you both stood mouths agape.

“That’s the northern lights, right? I’ve never seen it before.”

“Mmhmm. Aurora borealis. Pretty amazin’.”

“Beautiful,” you sighed, breath a cloud billowing in the crisp air, eyes soaking in every bit of the cosmic phenomenon.

You didn’t realize it staring up at the sky as you were, but Joel’s umber eyes were fixed on you when he replied, “Sure is.”

You stayed like, shoulders gently bumping as you both enjoyed nature’s show, until the temperature dropped further and you shivered. An awed smile remained plastered on your face the rest of the walk to your house, one Joel would never forget.

The dichotomy of the humid, warm air within the greenhouses and the chilled breeze outside confused your body, but you loved it. Sure, the humidity did nothing good for your hair, leaving it a frizzy mass around your head sometimes, but the dewy feeling on your skin always reminded you of childhood summers spent at the beach.

Tending to the various fruit and vegetable plants all morning, in what you deemed Greenhouse 1, you saved your favorite duties – the ones associated with flowers – for the afternoon. While you enjoyed caring for all the plants, you loved tending to the flowers, humming as you pruned and replanted clippings, expanding your every growing collection. If the patrol teams kept bringing you seeds and specimen back, you’d need yet another greenhouse. The council would just love that.

The creak of the door to Greenhouse Two drew your attention shortly after you switched gears and you stood, brushing the dirt from your jeans before glancing up. Your face shifted into a soft smile at the sight of Joel standing hesitantly just inside the door.

“Hey Joel, what did you bring me today?” You knew he had patrol duty and likely found some interesting plant during his travels. “Better not be western baneberry again. You know how poisonous those berries are!”

Stepping forward, Joel chuckled as you teased him. “I know now! It was one time and you’ll never let me live it down, will ya?” Thrusting his hand toward you, he dropped a small pile of seeds onto your dirt-covered palm. “Not sure what these are, but we found down by the ol’ mill. Might be something cool.”

“Might be,” you hummed, poking the seeds a little. Hopefully the cold didn’t get to them. You grabbed the nearest pot, quickly filled it with soil and sprinkled the seeds in as you tilled the top few inches. “We’ll find out soon enough what kind of treasure these are.”

Leaning back against a messy tabletop, hands on hips, Joel watched you tend to the new addition before finding the perfect place for the pot, nestled on a table amongst other seedlings. “Do you –”

Joel’s mouth snapped shut as the greenhouse door banged open next to him, a boisterous voice carrying into the warm space before its body did.

“Tangerine! Check out what I found today,” Alex, another member of the patrol team, called as he strolled right past Joel without acknowledgement. Younger and not as broad as Joel, the man held a growing affection for you, which irked the older man.

“Alex,” you sighed playfully. He was cute in a youthful, untrained puppy kind of way and had an annoying habit of calling you nicknames that made no sense. “I told you to stop calling me that. We don’t even have tangerines here.”

Snickering under his breath, Joel observed the younger man falling all over himself to impress you. Why you indulged the idiot, he would never understand.

Alex waved you off. “You love it, and you know it. Lookit here,” he said, thrusting his hand toward you. Slight though he was, Alex had large hands, and in his right one were three clusters of small, bell-shaped blooms with a purple hue.

“Prairie bluebell! Where did you find these?” Your face lit up as you took the blooms in a gentle grasp, admiring them for a moment before setting to work on replanting.

Alex prattled on boastfully about finding them just off a rocky path down near the river while Joel focused on watching you work. When Alex finally paused for breath, you chimed in with some flower lore.

“Did you know that bluebells are often called fairy flowers? It is said that the bluebells are rung to summon fairies to a meeting. But, since fairies aren’t always good, the flowers could be enchanted leaving anyone who wanders into a ring of bluebells lost in fairy woods.”

Joel snorted at the idea of Alex becoming lost in fairy woods, never to be found again. If only they could be so lucky, he thought. He knew there was more you could share about the symbolism of the delicate flowers, but it would be lost on someone like Alex.

Rolling his eyes, Joel was about to take his leave when Alex blurted, “Would you join me for dinner tonight? I heard they just got in some fresh venison.”

Absorbed in your work, you hardly heard him, and Alex repeated himself, a hint of annoyance in his tone. Joel froze, holding his breath in anticipation of your answer. Please say no, he thought. You could do so much better than this moron.

Brow furrowed, you stared at Alex, considering your response. “Like a date?”

The younger man nodded eagerly, a broad smile spreading across his lips. You glanced at Joel, not certain what you were hoping to see, and found him staring back, stone faced, arms crossed in front of his chest tightly. Giving you nothing to work with, your shoulders slumped, resigned. “Sure, I guess.”

Not the most enthusiastic answer, but you couldn’t remember the last time you went on a date and Alex was the only one asking.

You didn’t even realize Joel moved until the door closed heavily behind his retreating form.

The breeze carried a sense of change as you strolled home from your shift in the greenhouse. The weather was finally warming, ever so slightly, as Mother Nature loosened her grip on winter, letting spring slowly creep in.

Mixed emotions tumbled through your mind as your feet carried you through the streets of Jackson by muscle memory alone. Alex asking you to dinner caught you off guard – you had a feeling he was interested, but he never made any sort of bold move. The fact he finally did while Joel was standing right there threw you off balance.

Did you even like this guy?

Sure, Alex was attractive, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and tanned skin. But his personality made him seem more like a golden retriever, goofy and too eager to impress, than someone you could fall for. It made you wonder if there was any substance lurking under the surface.

In the absence of any other offers, did it even matter?

No, you guessed it really didn’t.

These thoughts carried you right to your front steps and you stopped, taken by the presence of something unusual waiting in front of your door.

A solitary stalk with a gorgeous jasmine bloom, a slip of paper wrapped around the stem held in place by nondescript string.

Picking it up, you held the flower to your nose, breathing in the rich, sensual aroma. The scent brightened your mood, and you slipped the scrap of paper from beneath the string. You whispered the words printed in a block scrawl you didn’t recognize.

Joyful moments shared; the answer lies in the air.

What did it mean?

Glancing around, you searched the street and neighboring homes for a sign of who might have left the flower and note for you. The only people in sight were your elderly neighbors, married couples, and the kids from a few houses down. None of them would have left you such a gift.

Who in the world left this for you?

Would Alex do something romantic like this? You doubted it, but what else did you have to go on?

Once inside, you trimmed the stem and put the flower in a container on the counter, placing the scrap of paper in front of it.

You gazed at the flower, mulling over the riddle before you. The note indicated that you’ve shared moments with whomever left the flower. Jasmine itself symbolized love and romance. You made friends with a lot of people since you came to town – too many shared experiences and moments to choose from.

Twenty minutes and too much thinking in circles, you were no closer to understanding the clues and teetering on the verge of being late for your date. You needed more data before hazarding any reasonable guesses.

“Why do you torture yourself like this?” Tommy questioned. Sitting at the bar watching his brother pining over you was not his idea of a fun Friday night. “You should just bite the bullet and ask her out already.”

Joel shook his head. He had no explanation for why he hadn’t made a move yet. For months now, he knew he liked you as more than friends, pined over you in silence, yet he never took the next step. Joel Miller was not a coward, but his fear of losing one of the few friends he had left in the world had him frozen in place, afraid to make any moves. He couldn’t take that chance. Finally putting words to the feelings roiling inside him, he told his brother as much.

“I get it, brother. I do,” Tommy replied, thumping Joel on the back in commiseration. “But can you really say you’re ok watchin’ her go on dates with asshats like Alex? ��Cause that’s gonna keep happenin’ unless you do something about it. And I don’t mean killin’ the dude.”

Joel shook his head. Hunched over the bar, shooting surreptitious glances your way, he had to admit Tommy was right. He could think of few things worse than watching you go on a date with someone other than him, especially with dipshits like that guy.

“I ain’t killin’ anyone, but I do have a plan. Already put it in motion, in fact.” Picking at a scratch in the bar, Joel shifted his gaze from you to Tommy. “I might need your help with some of it. Maria’s too.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me all about this grand plan then.”

Unsurprisingly, the date was a dud.

Alex had the personality of a goldfish rather than a golden retriever, and the two of you had nothing in common. He also interrupted you mid-sentence no less than three times – once could be considered a mistake, but three times was an unforgiveable offense as far as you were concerned. You stopped making an effort about halfway through dinner and wished for a hole to open up beneath your seat and swallow you whole.

Worst of all, he acted like an entitled dickhead when you refused dessert, thanked him for the date, and let him know there wouldn’t be a second one. He’s lucky you didn’t knee him in the nuts before walking away from the table.

How unfortunate that dating sucked nearly as much now as it did before the fucking apocalypse. It was unfair, really. At what point did being a woman stop sucking?

Lamenting your lack of success in the relationship department, you trudged home. You wondered what Joel was up to – you caught a glimpse of him at the bar with Tommy earlier and he didn’t look happy, but you didn’t see him when you left. Part of you longed to visit him, maybe have a drink and sit on his porch gazing at the stars together like you’ve done before. But it was already late, and you didn’t want to bother him. Hell, he could have a woman over already, which would be mortifying if you interrupted. The thought sank unpleasantly in your mind until you got to your house and pushed it away.

A little gift waited for you on the porch, just like earlier. An orchid this time. Symbol of love, thoughtfulness, and charm. Your index finger traced the delicate petals with the gentlest touch as a smile slowly crept its way across your lips.

Another note was attached, and you plucked it from beneath the same kind of string, eyes devouring the words.

Overwhelmed by your grace, the answer hides in this place.

The flower wasn’t completely cold, so it had to have been left recently. Brow furrowed; you glanced around but there was no one in sight. You wracked your brain trying to figure out the identity of your secret admirer, but you were at a loss. Prior to dinner, you briefly thought Alex was the culprit, but now it was obvious he didn’t have a romantic bone in his lanky body.

You heart knew who it longed for it to be, but you refused to consider it. He didn’t want you that way, of that you were certain.

Giving the orchid the same treatment as the jasmine earlier, you tucked the stem into the same container and placed it on the coffee table so you could admire the blossoms while you fell asleep on the couch. After all, why bother with a big bed without someone to share it with?

Saturdays were your day off, but the sun shining through the curtains you forgot to close the night before ruined your plans of sleeping in. Grumbling at the unnecessary brightness, you stumbled into the kitchen desperate for coffee. The coffee tin felt light in your hand when you reached for it and, sure enough, you saw nothing but a tiny amount of powdery remains of coffee beans at the bottom.

God dammit. Barely eight o’clock in the morning and this day already had two strikes against it. It wasn’t looking good so far.

Not caring that you still wore the clothes from your date the night before, you quickly brushed your teeth and finger-combed your hair into submission before leaving the house. Pausing at the door for a moment, you debated whose house to go to. Joel always had coffee – it was his drug of choice – but Maria and Tommy were closer.

Not awake enough for decision-making, you let your feet carry you in whichever direction they wanted… which was exactly three feet onto the porch before they stopped. Another flower with a note sat waiting for you.

Your mood brightened considerably at the sight of the double-flowered, funnel-shaped Eustoma, petals a pale purple. The rose-like flowers weren’t native to Wyoming, but you got lucky months ago when someone found a seed packet. You were shocked the seeds were still viable. Did someone pluck it from the greenhouse? You gave away a few cuttings not that long ago, but unless they were replanted, there’s no way they’d last this long. It had to be from the greenhouse. Where the hell else would they get one?

The addiction-like need for coffee temporarily forgotten, you rubbed the Eustoma gently against your nose, confirming the lack of scent when you breathed in and wondered what the little note would say this time.

Endless thoughts of you, the answer is in the view.

Stepping back into the house, you added the flower with the others, mulling over the symbolism of the Eustoma. Whoever left it must be trying to tell you that they appreciate and admire you. But when you add it with the others, what did it all mean?

As good as you were with flowers, you were awful at solving mysteries. A detective you were not. Besides, it was still too early for this kind of puzzle.

The desire for coffee returned and you left the flower quandary behind as you made your way to Joel’s.

Joel didn’t expect to see you today, his day looking up when he opened the door to find you on his doorstep. His heart immediately sank when he noticed you wearing the same clothes from the night before, hair mussed.

“Your date must have gone well,” he said, eyes roving over your clothing, knowing his tone was less friendly than you were used to from him. “What are you doin’ here this early?”

You were clearly thrown off kilter by his remark, frowning as he stepped back to let you in.

“Wha—” you started to question him but shook your head. “I just came to see if you had any spare coffee. I ran out without realizing it.”

“Didn’t have any to offer Alex this morning? That’s a damn shame.” Joel felt the heat of your confused gaze on his back as you followed him into the kitchen.

“What are you talking about?” You sighed, staring at him with furrowed brows.

Avoiding your searching gaze, Joel poured a cup of coffee, adding the perfect amount of sugar you liked, and glowered at the cup as he handed it over. “You’re wearing the same clothes as last night. I assume you did the walk of shame this morning only to find you didn’t have any coffee.”

“It’s too early for your judgmental shit, Joel. You can be a real ass sometimes, you know that?” You turned to leave, mind trying to wrap itself around why this day was turning out so oddly. Mercury was in retrograde again, it had to be. You and Joel never spoke to each other like this. As you reached the door, not caring that you basically stole his coffee cup, you called over your shoulder, “And the date wasn’t even like that, for the record.”

“You’re welcome for the coffee,” Joel muttered as you let yourself out of his house.

“You didn’t have to be such a dick, you know.” Ellie appeared around the corner; arms crossed over her chest.

“I know. I couldn’t help it. The thought of her with that jackass just…” he sighed. “I got a little carried away, but it’s fine. The plan is still in play. Did you take care of what I asked you to?”

“You come up with some strange plans, old man. Yeah, I got it done.”

Fed up with the day and everyone in town before noon, you hid away in your house for the rest of the day. The interaction with Joel weighed on you the entire afternoon and well into the night. What was up with him? Were you being too sensitive, taking his comments personally?

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was jealous you went on a date with Alex.

Unsurprisingly, you slept poorly and woke up groggy and unfocused Sunday morning. It was going to be a long day in the greenhouse if you didn’t find some coffee to power you up. Getting ready earlier than normal, you planned to stop at Maria and Tommy’s to see if they had coffee – there was no way you were going back to Joel’s after yesterday.

Opening the door to another brisk, early spring morning, the glint of sunlight on the porch drew your eyes to yet another flower waiting for you. Four in a row now, how long would this carry on for?

One of your favorites, you picked up the stalk with six lavender blossoms, violet in hue, and breathed in the fresh, light scent, savoring the sweet undertones. Fingers caressed the downy leaves, making you feel calmer, mellower, which was exactly what you needed.

You kept sniffing the floral scent as you read the accompanying note, finding it fitting.

Lost in your scent, the answer is present.

“Tell me you have a secret admirer!”

Startled, you gasped, gaze shooting to Maria as she approached your house, two mugs of coffee in hand. You face shifted into a smile at the sight.

“I’m… um, I guess. I’m not sure?” You shrugged accepting the mug Maria held out toward you. “Thanks for this, I ran out.”

“I heard,” she replied. “Joel’s on the hunt for more, don’t worry.”

“Of course he is,” you rolled your eyes.

“Soooo…” Maria gestured to the flowers and note in your hand, seeking an explanation. “I feel like there’s a story here.”

“There is, I just don’t know what it is yet,” you admitted. Inhaling the calming scent of the lavender once again, you added, “This is the fourth one I’ve received. Each one has its own riddle. Let me show you.”

Leading the way into your house – you still had an hour before your shift started – you showed Maria the flowers and each note that accompanied them. In small print, you added what each flower symbolized to the corresponding note and numbered them in the order you received them, hoping every little detail would help you sort out the puzzle.

Maria looked over everything, smiling softly at each note. “Whoever this mystery man is, he’s quite romantic.”

“Right?”

“What do today’s flowers mean?”

“In the context of the rest of the flowers so far, love and devotion,” you replied, heat warming your cheeks.

Maria whistled softly. “Someone is down bad for you, girl. Any ideas who it could be?”

Shrugging defeatedly, you admitted, “Not a clue. The one person I’d want it to be would never do something like this.”

Maria hid a smile behind her mug as she sipped her coffee. “How can you be sure?”

tbc

#jettsflora&faunachallenge #writing challenge #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel x female reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #pedrostories

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katanablue · 8 months ago

Text

I originally had a totally different idea for this but I think I may just do a part 2 hehehe. ALSO IF ANYONE GOT ANY GOOD 07 DONNIE FICS ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Warnings: NONE JUST DONNIE BEING A CUTE GRUMPY DORK.

Another day another long boring shift full of talking to idiotic people who don’t know the difference between hardware and software and explaining to one too many elderly people that ‘No, you cannot print out the Internet.’

He’s just finished a call, rubbing the space between his eyes as he feels his daily headache come on. He’s impressed that he’s managed to nearly finish his workday without it appearing until now. He groans low in his throat, debating on getting up to grab a glass of water so he can take a pill or just sucking it up these last 30 minutes.

He gets his answer when an incoming call rings through his headset, making Donnie roll his eyes hard and into the back of his skull. He inhales deeply through his nose to prepare himself, letting it out when he clicks on a key to answer the phone.

“Thank you for calling tech support, this is Donatello speaking, how can I help you today.” He doesn’t bother putting on his customer service voice, his headache dully throbbing now as he waits for the other person on the line to start rambling about their dumb issue.

“Hi, how are you today?” You say, giving the standard pleasantries before delving into your computer issue.

Typical, of course his last call would try to make small talk.

“I’m fine ma’am, thank you. How can I help you today?” He repeats it, resisting the urge to roll his eyes again and leans back in his chair, swaying gently side to side. He thinks about what he should eat after, his eyes trailing to the clock in the Lair that signifies in big red letters that it’s nearly 2 a.m. Not the latest he’s stayed up but today’s shift was particularly exhausting. Maybe it’s the full moon or something, ‘Mercury in Gatorade’ as Mikey would sometimes call it.

“Hello?”

Shit. He totally just fucking zoned out on you.

“Apologies ma’am, I didn’t quite catch that. Would you mind repeating it?” Great, he just extended this call by about 2 minutes.

“Oh, that’s alright! I’m dealing with an issue with my laptop’s ability to open programs fast. It’s taking forever just to open something and I’m not quite sure why.” You repeat your issue, quietly sighing as you aimlessly move your mouse around your screen, hoping that the guy on the other side will be able to help with you.

Donnie immediately knows what the problem could be; slow processing speeds a fairly common issue for him but thankfully an easy fix.

So he starts by asking the standard questions: do you have any programs that take a lot of space? Any tabs open that you aren’t using? Anything running in the background?

When you tell him ‘no, no and no’, that’s when he sits up from his chair and squints his eyes. If those aren’t the cause of your laptops slow speed then what could it be?

“Well,”

Ah, there it is.

“I do play a few games but those have never caused me problems before. Could that be it?”

Normally Donatello’s irritation would increase when the customer would ‘suddenly remember’ something that could be pausing their problem. You, however? Didn’t spark that within him for some reason. In fact, besides your calm demeanor, it’s the way you spoke so kindly to him combined with the fact that you also game apparently that has Donnie not wanting to snap at you.

“Like what?” He asks, being sure to keep it professional.

And when you list his all time favorite game among some others that he’s obsessed with, he has to practically force himself to not totally geek out. Sure he’s played some of the popular games nowadays like League or Valorant, but hearing you say that you modded some old PS1 games to play on your laptop practically skyrockets his excitement.

Which in turn makes his headache pound harder.

He’s unable to keep himself from hissing when a pang shoots right through his skull, knowing you heard it when you trail off your sentence.

“Are you alright?”

Maybe it’s because he’s had a long day or maybe it’s because this seems to be shifting into a migraine, but the concern and sincerity in your voice makes an odd feeling bubble in Donnie’s chest. Surely no one would ever be genuinely worried over an I.T guy, not when you have more pressing matters on your hands.

“My apologies miss, I’m just uh, dealing with a bit of a headache right now. Although I think it’s turning into a migraine.” He grunts through his clenched jaw, swinging carefully around in his chair as he searches for his bottle of Advil only to suck his teeth when he shakes the container and hears absolutely nothing rattling around.

“Oh no, I’m sorry! Do you want to go grab some medicine? I don’t mind waiting.”

The corner of Donnie’s lip twitches upward. He brings his hands to massage at his temples, the motions doing something to relieve the tension in his head but not nearly enough.

“I unfortunately just discovered that I’m out of medicine. But that’s alright, I’ll pick some up after this call.” He doesn’t bother hiding his sigh, settling back in his seat as he prepares to ask you more questions to help you out.

“What about any oils? Got any of those? Usually lavender or peppermint do the trick.” You put him on speaker and go to your Safari on your phone to begin looking up other remedies, wanting to assist this poor I.T man.

Donnie’s not quite sure why you’re trying to be helpful but at this point he doesn’t exactly care, the throbbing getting worse by the second.

“It could also be too much pressure, literally, around your head. Do you wear headbands or anything like that? Could also be your headphones.”

“No, no headbands. And my headphones have cushioning all around so not those either.” He responds, debating on texting Mikey to bring him the peppermint oil that April bought for Splinter last Christmas.

“Ah, a man of comfort.” You laugh, fingers quickly typing in your question into the search engine.

Donnie finds himself smiling faintly at the sound, a fleeting thought of ‘Wow, I want to hear that again’ passing through his brain.

“Well, I can’t use regular headphones for gaming. I’m also a fan of those games that you play.”

You blink in surprise, your scrolling faltering for half a second before continuing on.

“No way, really?”

And so you talk for the next 20 minutes about said games; reliving memories, talking about specific moments you wish you could experience again, the soundtracks, the characters. Everything.

For the first 10 minutes, Donnie kept reminding himself that he was just prolonging his work call, that he should drive the focus back onto your issue so he can hang up and clock out. But the more he talked to you, the more he said ‘fuck it’ and allowed himself this one rare moment of normalcy.

He also nearly forgot about his raging migraine, until it pleasantly reminded him that it was still present with a sharp stabbing pain behind his eyes.

It’s what snaps him back to reality, his face grimacing from the white hot torment happening in his skull.

“I’m so sorry, we should really get back to your computers issues.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

God, why did he feel so awful saying that? And why did it make his stomach twist when hearing just how disappointed you sounded? It’s something he’ll have to dissect later, not when he’s already 30 minutes past the standard call time for support.

“Let’s see what we’re working with here.”

This is one of the rare times Donnie wishes he wasn’t so smart with technology because in less than 5 minutes he solves your problem. He wishes he could just be a little average to talk to you more even if it’s computer stuff.

“Alright, you shouldn’t have a problem anymore. Anything else I can help you with?”

Please say yes please say yes please say yes.

“No, I’m all good. Thank so much Donatello!”

“Donnie! You can call me Donnie.”

Fuck.

“Just your friendly I.T tech support here to help you 24 hours a day.”

Double fuck.

Why did he say that? It’s standard spiel protocol but still, how utterly lame…

You can’t help but giggle at him, your cheeks hurting from smiling so much from this total stranger.

“Alright then, Donnie. I’ll know who to ask for if I ever need help again.”

He smiles and asks for your name, just so he’ll know who he’s talking to if you ever do call again. He repeats it back to you once you tell him, the word rolling off his tongue in such a way that makes you feel giddy and grinning like a kid in a candy store.

“Have a good night, please don’t hesitate to call back if you’re still experiencing technical difficulties.”

And by Darwin he hopes you do.

#tmnt #tmnt 2007 #donatello x reader #2007 donnie #my writings

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ilypaigebuckets · 10 months ago

Note

could you write something about Caitlin based on so high school by Taylor?

literally same wavelength bc i was thinking abt writing this last night that’s crazy!!! i hope you like it! as always my reqs are open for you guys :) feel free to request any scenarios, hcs, prompts, etc <3

pairing: cc x reader

plot summary: caitlin gets asked a question about her girlfriend at a post game interview and it takes her back to her high school years with you.

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

“So Caitlin,” an interviewer questions, “you were on fire tonight on the court. What gives you that drive and that power to keep pushing through?” Caitlin tightened her ponytail and cocked her head to the side, thinking of an answer.

“I couldn’t have done it without the support of my family, teammates and of course my Coach. But there’s something else, well someone else, that definitely has played a huge part into my success over the years. My beautiful girl Y/N. She’s supported me through everything, ever since I’ve known her. She’s just this ball of sunshine that’s just..just my everything. She’s been my biggest supporter and being around her just makes me feel like so..i don’t know so high school, I guess?” Caitlin chuckles at the end of her sentence, thinking back to get when first fell for you

I. I want to find you in a crowd just to hide from you.

It was your junior year of high school when you started to get close with Caitlin. You were a new student and had sat by her in her chem class. She took a liking to you immediately. You weren’t exactly the science type, your forte being more English and History; Language composition, Aristotle, socratic seminars, those were your thing. You came right as basketball season was starting and Caitlin saw this as a perfect opportunity to get closer with the pretty girl in her chem.

“Hey! Super random but are you a basketball fan?” Caitlin questioned you, “I have a game today if you want come”.

“I mean it’s not really my thing, but I’d love to come support you!” You replied cheerfully.

Fast forward to the game, your schools team won 58-67, thanks to Caitlin and her amazing skills.

Caitlin’s teammates surrounded her, but all she could think about was the pretty girl in her chemistry class that came to watch her. Just her. She searched for you in the crowd until she finally saw you. She was to scared for your eyes to meet, and quickly looked away. She hurried back to the locker room with her cheeks pink underneath the gymnasium’s twinkling lights. She wiped the sweat off her forehead and checked her phone.

Y/N💕

you were great tonight! thanks for the invite ;)

Caitlin buried her head in her hands. You were going to be the death of her.

2. I’ll drink what you think and I’m high

Later that year, Caitlin took you out to a house party. She thought it would be a great way to get you out of your shell and meeting new people. Not in a romantic sense of course, she already had dibs on you and everyone except her knew it.

At the party you both declined any drinks offered to you, wanting to stay clean and level headed for your first official “hangout” together. Despite staying sober, Caitlin was cracking up at every one of your jokes. You continued them just to see her smile.

“Wonder how much Cait’s had to drink.” One of her teammates said. “Not a drop,” another replied.

The latter was right. Caitlin Clark was simply drunk on love.

3. Are you gonna Marry, Kiss, or Kill me?

The end of your junior year, Caitlin took you to another party. You two were crushing and crushing hard, but hadn’t made anything official yet.

One of your mutual friends suggested you play a game of kiss, marry, kill and being bored out of your minds, you all complied. “So Y/N, kiss, marry, kill. Caitlin, Alexis, and Joshua.” You didn’t skip a beat and replied instantaneously.

“Easy peasy. Cait for all three.”

“WHAT?!” Caitlin shrieked, “You wanna kill me?!” looking at you with an expression of mock horror.

“Well, you can’t pick 2 and not the other. So technically I have no other choice.” You looked at her sweetly.

“Actually I think the point of the game is you assign one name to either kiss, marry, or kill.” Your mutual friend started, “But I’ll let it slide for you two lovebirds.”

4. Touch me while your boys play GTA.

It was your high school senior year. Caitlin’s basketball team was having a relaxed hangout at her house, playing video games. You had made your relationship official over the summer, and were excited to see what this school year had in store for you both.

You and Caitlin were snuggled up together under a blanket on her couch, while her teammates sat on the ground below playing Grand Theft Auto, a game you knew nothing about. You and Caitlin stared at each other intensely and suddenly you jumped in your seat. The hand on your thigh had shocked you, Caitlin had always seemed so PG to you. You looked up at her with an “are you crazy?!” look on your face. She used her free hand to put up her pointer finger to her mouth as if to shush you.

You weren’t quick ready to take things further than that, never having had anybody the way you’d had her before. She of course respected you and gave you a kiss on the forehead, and then proceeded to get up. “Okay guys, time for me to show you why Y/N calls me the Grand Theft Auto Annihilator.”

“Dude. I have never in my life thought about calling you that.”

5. I’m hearing voices, like a madman.

Freshman year of college and you both had committed to the University of Iowa. The two of you had, of course, decided to room together, and were happy and content with how everything had worked out for you too.

Living together proved to be somewhat challenging at first, with Caitlin being quite messy with her things. She was usually level-headed and wasn’t one to start fights, but God forbid you mention something about her not keeping her side of your room clean. Her D1 ego would not allow you to.

That day you two had bickered about Caitlin not doing the dishes like she’d promised to. “Caitlin. There’s literally 3 dishes in the sink, and you said you’d do them. C’mon man.” You said to her, half joking in an attempt to get her to listen without arguing. But Caitlin had already had a stressful morning and was not in the mood. “I’ll do them after,” She spoke curtly. “I have practice.” She jumped up, grabbed her bag, and stalked out of the dorm.

During practice, she was a mess. She kept missing shots. “Serves her right,” She thought to herself, “Little Miss ‘Oh I’m Y/N yes I’m so clean and proper lalalala-” Caitlin paused as she realized how absolutely ridiculous she sounded. She reminded herself of you whenever you did impressions of your dad. In an instant she busted into a fit of giggles, sharing her thought with her teammates so they could laugh too.

After practice, she came straight home to your shared dorm and spent the rest of the night making it up to you with a movie night filled with popcorn, candy, and most importantly a clean sink.

Caitlin snapped back into the present as the interviewer finished her thought, “It sure seems like your girlfriend Y/N has played a huge role in not only your life on the court but also off of it. How sweet! Where is she tonight?”

“She’s actually…” Caitlin turned around to look for you, and saw you walking past her to Kate wearing one of her jersey’s. She softly grabbed your arm and pulled you into the camera’s view. “She’s right here! Hi baby!” Caitlin gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before turning her attention back to the interview.

“So Y/N, in your eyes how do you think Caitlin did tonight?” The interviewer now questioned you.

You took a moment to think and then smiled, “Amazing as always. She’s always been amazing. Ever since high school where I met her.”

#caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #wcbb #wcbb x reader #iowa wbb #iowa hawkeyes #paige bueckers

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