#just being so obsessed with him that you have to have him to yourself
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harrysfolklore · 1 day ago
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secret - cs55
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summary: carlos has been keeping his relationship secret for 6 months. the world has no idea that he's dating an a list actress
wc: 5.4k words + social media posts. face claim: emilia clarke
folkie radio: guys... why does it feel illegal to post a carlos fic that's not little bitch?? anyway i hope you like this LEAVE FEEDBACK !
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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liked by carlossainz55, zendaya and 2,445,805 others
yourinstagram Spain, you have my heart ❤️
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username1 QUEEN
username2 she’s glowiiiing
arianagrande mother 🤎
username3 imagine being the highest paid actress in hollywood looking like that i wouldn’t take shit from anybody
florencepugh you’re the actual loml
↳ yourinstagram Love you baby flo
username4 single yn is glowing
username5 spain also has my heart but i’ve never been there i’m just obsessed with carlos sainz
username6 carlos sainz in the likes wbk he’s a fan since the first season of game of thrones
anasainzvdec 💓💓
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourinstagram and 1,570,487 others
carlossainz55 Short break before heading to Silverstone 🇬🇧
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username1 HOTTEST MAN ALIVE
username2 carlos don’t do this to my ovaries
scuderiaferrari 🌶️🌶️
username3 if he is single who is taking all this boyfriend content
username4 THATS A HUSBAND
blancasainzv 🙌🙌🙌
username5 CARLOS LET ME JUMP ON YOUR BONES
username6 it’s a crime that this man is single looking like this (not really)
landonorris A family man
↳ georgerussell63 😂😂😂
↳ username1 carlando forever
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You stand in front of the mirror, applying the last touches of makeup as sunlight streams through the bedroom window. The reflection shows Carlos lounging on the bed behind you, his dark eyes following your every move. You can't help but smile, feeling the warmth of his gaze.
As you prepare to leave, your mind wanders to the whirlwind romance of the past six months. It all started with a tweet- Carlos expressing his admiration for your character in Game of Thrones. You hadn't known much about Formula 1 then, but his charm and genuine enthusiasm caught your attention.
Fate brought you together at a high-profile fashion event months later. You remember how your heart raced when he approached you, confidently asking for your number. Within days, he'd asked you out on a proper date.
Now, six months later, you're living in a blissful bubble of secrecy. Neither his fellow drivers nor your co-stars have any idea about your relationship. It's a mutual decision - you're both in the spotlight, and this connection feels too important to expose to the world's scrutiny just yet.
You've just returned from a short trip to Spain, where Carlos introduced you to his family. The warmth of their welcome still lingers, making you feel even more connected to him. His parents had embraced you immediately, and you'd spent hours laughing and sharing stories with his sisters. The trip reinforced the feeling that you truly belonged in Carlos' life.
"Do you really have to leave?" Carlos asks, his Spanish accent more pronounced in his sleepy state.
"You know I do, darling. This film isn't going to shoot itself," you turn to face him, taking in his tousled hair and bare chest.
Carlos props himself up on his elbows, a playful smirk on his lips. "But I can think of so many better ways to spend the day."
You walk over to the bed, leaning down to place a soft kiss on his lips. "Tempting, but I've got to go. We can't all race cars for a living, you know."
His hand catches yours as you start to pull away. "Just five more minutes?" he pleads, pulling you closer.
You allow yourself to be drawn in, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You're impossible," you say, but there's no real frustration in your voice.
"Impossible to resist, you mean," Carlos wraps an arm around your waist, nuzzling into your neck.
"That too," you laugh, running your fingers through his hair. "But seriously, I need to leave soon."
He sighs dramatically, flopping back onto the pillows. "Fine, fine. Go be a famous actress. Leave me here all alone."
"Drama queen," you roll your eyes, standing up. "You've got meetings later anyway."
As you gather your things, Carlos watches you with a mix of admiration and affection.
"You know," he says softly, "sometimes I still can't believe this is real. Us, I mean."
"It's real," you assure him, with a small smile, "And it's ours."
"I guess my obsession with Daenerys Targaryen paid off," Carlos grins, sitting up, "Though I have to say, the real you is even better than any character."
"Smooth talker. No wonder I fell for you so quickly," you roll your eyes playfully as you walk over to the bed, cupping his face in your hands. "As tempting as that is, love, we both have responsibilities. But tonight, it's just us."
He leans into your touch, then pulls you down for a deep kiss. When you part, both slightly breathless, he whispers, "I can't wait."
With a final blown kiss, you slip out of the room, your heart full and a smile on your lips. Another day of keeping your relationship under wraps begins, but you wouldn't have it any other way. Your mind is already counting down the hours until you can be in his arms again, safe in your private world built for two.
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ynupdates YN arriving for filming today in London!
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username1 MY BUBBB
username2 why so serious
username3 she has a movie premiering in two months and she’s already filming another talk about an icon
username4 love the fitttt
username5 streets say she’s got a boyfriend now 👀
↳ username1 source: trust me bro
↳ username2 SPILL THE DEETS
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You sink into the plush couch in Carlos' living room, the aroma of your favorite pasta filling the air. This has become your ritual - intimate dinners at home, safe from prying eyes and camera flashes. Sometimes you cook together, but tonight you've ordered in from that little Italian place Carlos adores.
"This is perfect," you sigh contentedly as Carlos settles beside you, two plates balanced in his hands. "I'll take nosy neighbors over paparazzi any day."
"Agreed," Carlos chuckles, handing you your plate, "Though I'm pretty sure my neighbor thinks I've developed an unhealthy obsession with takeout."
"Little do they know you're just obsessed with me," you lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
"Guilty as charged," he grins, pulling you closer.
As you eat, you share stories about your day. Carlos absently traces patterns on your knee, and you find yourself melting into his touch.
"Oh," you say, remembering suddenly. "My team suggested something interesting today."
"What would that be, amor?" Carlos raises an eyebrow, intrigued.
You take a sip of wine before answering. "They think it would be a good idea for me to attend the Silverstone Grand Prix."
For obvious reasons, you haven't been able to join Carlos for a race since your relationship began. The need for secrecy and your busy schedules have kept you from sharing this crucial part of his life.
So when your team suggested you should attend the British Grand Prix at Silverstone to promote your new movie, you felt a surge of excitement. The prospect of finally seeing Carlos in his element, even if you had to pretend not to know each other, made you giddy.
"Really? That's... wow," Carlos said, his eyes twinkling.
"Don't get too excited," you nudge him playfully. "We'll have to pretend we barely know each other, you know."
Carlos groans dramatically, flopping back against the couch. "You mean I can't sweep you off your feet in front of thousands of fans? How will I cope?"
You laugh, setting your plate aside to cuddle closer to him. "I'm sure you'll manage. Just think of it as acting practice for both of us."
He wraps an arm around you, his voice growing softer. "You know, I always imagined the first race you'd attend would be as my girlfriend. With everyone knowing how lucky I am."
"I know, love," your heart swells at his words. "But hey, we'll still be together, even if no one else knows it."
Carlos nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You're right. And I am happy you'll be there. Even if I have to pretend I'm not crazy about you."
"Well, there's no pretending now," you look up at him, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Show me just how crazy about me you are."
With a playful growl, Carlos pulls you onto his lap, dinner forgotten as his lips find yours. In moments like these, the secrecy feels worth it - these moments are yours alone, untouched by the outside world.
As you break apart, slightly breathless, Carlos murmurs against your lips, "Maybe we can sneak a moment at Silverstone. A secret rendezvous in the paddock?"
"Now that would make headlines", you laugh, running your fingers through his hair. "'Famous actress and F1 star caught canoodling behind the garages.'"
"Worth it," Carlos grins, pulling you in for another kiss.
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carlossainz55 Beyond excited for Silverstone this weekend. Let’s do this 🙌
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username1 MY MAN
username2 he’s really the hottest man alive
scuderiaferrari We got this 😌
username3 SILVERSTONE MORE LIKE CARLOSTONE
username4 manifesting another silverstone win
username5 my girl yn in the likes she’s so real
landonorris 🥵🥵🥵🥵
↳ username1 these two being single right now just means they get to be menaces
↳ carlossainz55 Weird
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The early morning light filters through the curtains of your bedroom as you help Carlos adjust his red Ferrari hoodie. Your fingers linger on his shoulders, savoring these last private moments before the chaos of race day begins.
"Remember," you tease, smoothing down his collar, "hands to yourself out there, Sainz."
"That might be a challenge, amor," Carlos grins, his eyes sparkling, "Especially with you wearing my number."
You playfully swat his arm, adjusting the Ferrari cap with Carlos' number that sits atop your head. "I mean it. We've managed to keep this under wraps for six months. Let's not blow our cover now."
"Fine, fine," he pulls you close, nuzzling your neck, "But you owe me for this torture."
"Torture, is it?" you laugh, tilting your head to give him better access. "Such a dramatic driver I've fallen for."
"In all honesty," Carlos pulls back, his expression suddenly serious, "I wish I could shout it from the podium today. That I'm the luckiest man in the world because I have you."
"Soon," you promise, cupping his face. "For now, let's enjoy our little secret."
With a final, lingering kiss, Carlos reluctantly steps away. "I'd better go. See you out there, amor."
"Go get 'em, tiger."
Hours later, you arrive at the circuit, your stomach fluttering with nerves. The Ferrari cap with Carlos' number feels like a subtle declaration, a secret sign that only you and Carlos truly understand.
"We'll start with Ferrari," your manager explains. "Given your... interest in the team."
You nod, fighting to keep your expression neutral. If only she knew the real reason for your interest.
As you approach the Ferrari garage, you spot Charles Leclerc first. Carlos had told you stories about his teammate before – his skill on the track, his competitive nature, and his charming personality. Now, seeing him in person, you understand why he's such a fan favorite.
Charles notices you approaching and breaks into a warm smile. He steps forward, extending his hand. "Hello there! I'm Charles Leclerc. Big fan."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Charles," you shake his hand, returning the smile. "I've heard great things about you."
"All good, I hope," he chuckles. "Is this your first time at a Grand Prix?"
"It is! I'm thrilled to be here. The energy is incredible already."
"Oh, just wait until the race starts. There's nothing quite like it." He pauses, then adds, "Have you met my teammate yet? He's around here somewhere..."
As if on cue, you hear a familiar voice behind you. "Did someone mention me?"
Your heart skips a beat as Carlos approaches and it takes every ounce of your acting skills to keep your expression neutral as he extends his hand.
"Carlos Sainz," he introduces himself, a cocky smirk on his lips, "Welcome to our garage."
As you shake his hand, you're hyper-aware of every point of contact. This man knows every inch of you, has held you countless times, yet here you are, pretending to be strangers. It's thrilling and frustrating all at once.
"It's great to meet you both," you manage to say, proud of how steady your voice sounds. "I can't wait to see you race."
"Well I hope we make a good first impression," Carlos said, and the look in his eyes told you that it was taking everything in him to keep his hands away from you.
"Carlos is being modest," Charles chimes in. "He's had some of his best performances here. You might be in for a treat today."
You raise an eyebrow, glancing at Carlos. "Is that so? Well, now I'm even more excited to watch."
Carlos rubs the back of his neck, a gesture you know is partly genuine modesty and partly an act. "Charles exaggerates. But I'll do my best to put on a good show for you- I mean, for all the fans."
"I'm sure you both will," you say, including Charles in your gaze to avoid suspicion.
A crew member approaches, informing Carlos and Charles that they're needed for a pre-race briefing shortly, and at the same time, a photographer appears asking for a picture. You pose with Charles first and shortly after Carlos stands next to you, his hand almost squeezing your waist sending shivers down your spine.
After the photo, you reluctantly step away. "I should let you get to your briefing. Good luck in the race, gentlemen!"
As you walk away, Charles say to Carlos, "She's gorgeous, isn't she?"
Carlos feels a sudden pang of jealousy, fighting the urge to declare that you're his. Instead, he replies with a smug tone, "She certainly is. But remember, we're here to race, not to admire the guests."
You make your way to the McLaren garage, where you're introduced to Lando Norris, Carlos' best friend. Lando's infectious energy has you laughing within minutes. You can see why he and Carlos get along so well, and you find yourself wishing you could share stories about your boyfriend with his best friend.
As you're about to leave the McLaren garage, your phone buzzes with a text from Carlos.
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Against your better judgment, you find yourself making excuses to your team and heading towards Carlos' driver's room. You slip inside, closing the door behind you and praying no one saw you.
Carlos is there in an instant, pulling you into his arms. "Dios mio, do you know how hard it was to keep my hands off you out there?"
"Behave yourself, Sainz," you laugh, melting into his embrace, "We have an image to maintain."
"Oh? And what image is that?" he pulls back, his eyes twinkling, "Because right now, all I can think about is how adorable you look in my cap."
"Flatterer," you tease, running your hands up his chest, admiring how the race suit fits him. "You don't look so bad yourself in this. First time I'm seeing it in person, you know."
Carlos grins, leaning in to brush his lips against yours. "Like what you see?"
"Maybe," you say coyly, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "But shouldn't you be focusing on the race?"
"You're killing me, hermosa," he groans dramatically, pulling you back against him, "How am I supposed to focus on driving when all I can think about is you?"
"Well," you suggest, "Maybe you need some motivation. Win the race, and I'll give you a proper celebration later."
"Now that's what I call incentive," he pecked your lips, and suddenly his eyes light up with an idea. He reaches for his phone. "Wait, I need a picture of you in that cap. My good luck charm."
You roll your eyes but pose anyway, tilting the cap at a jaunty angle. Carlos snaps the photo, grinning widely.
"Perfect," he says, showing you the result. "This is going to be my new favorite picture."
You're about to reply when a knock at the door makes you both freeze. "Carlos? Are you in there? Last pre-race briefing in two minutes," comes a voice from outside.
You stifle a giggle as Carlos calls back, "Be right there!"
He turns back to you, stealing one last passionate kiss before reluctantly stepping away. "This isn't over," he promises.
"I should hope not," you tease, straightening his collar. "Now go out there and make me proud."
As Carlos heads for the door, he pauses, looking back at you with a soft smile. "Te amo, YN."
"I love you too. Now go be the champion I know you are."
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f1world THESE TWO 🥹🥹🙌
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username1 AHHH THEY LOOK SO CUTE
username2 i bet carlos’ fanboy ass was shaking
username3 they look so good together hello????
username4 not yn zendaya-ing
username5 HER SMILE
username6 love them so much they should date
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yourinstagram SILVERSTONE. In another life I was a F1 driver. Yesterday I got to hang out with real ones and their pretty pretty cars. And I did not play it cool 😌
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username1 AHHHH ICON
username2 QUEEN OF THE PADDOCK
username3 she should go to every gp idc
scuderiaferarri You’re welcome anytime 🙌
username4 “got to hang out with real ones” and just posts carlos
username5 WHERE IS MY LANDO X YN PIC
emmacorrin 😍😍😍😍
username6 CARLOSYN YES
charles_leclerc Lovely to meet you 😘
↳ username1 and she didn’t post him help
carlossainz55 An absolute pleasure to chat with you 😉
↳ yourinstagram Likewise !
↳ username2 DATE
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liked by landonorris, yourinstagram and 1,289,300 others
carlossainz55 Triple header done, time to recharge and come back stronger in Hungary! 💪🏻
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username1 CHILIIIIII
username2 of course he was going to post his pic with yn he's such a fanboy
username3 ICONS IN THE THIRD PIC
scuderiaferrari Always the Smooth Operator 🌶️
username4 YN'S FACE IN THE THIRD PIC
username5 i ship carlos and yn
username6 i like the british gp bc actual cool celebrities attend not like the miami gp
yourinstagram Amazing weekend ❤️
↳ username1 HELLOOOOOO
deuxmoi has added to their stories
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After the excitement of Silverstone, reality had set in quickly. You had to fly to Switzerland for your latest film project, while Carlos was called to Maranello for team duties. The goodbye had been bittersweet.
Now, a week later, you're on set in Switzerland, immersed in the world of your latest film. The day has been long, filled with intense scenes and multiple takes. As you trudge back to your trailer, your mind wanders to your boyfriend, wishing you could share the day's triumphs and frustrations with him, but he was miles away.
You open the trailer door, lost in thought, and nearly jump out of your skin when you see a figure inside. Your heart rate skyrockets, then immediately settles as you recognize the familiar silhouette.
"Carlos?" you whisper, a mix of shock and joy coursing through you. "What are you doing here?"
He turns, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Surprise, baby!"
You rush into his arms, all exhaustion forgotten as he envelops you in a warm embrace. The familiar scent of his cologne wraps around you, and you feel the tension in your body melt away.
But as quickly as the joy comes, worry follows. You pull back slightly, glancing nervously at the door. "Carlos, how did you even get in here what if someone sees you? We can't risk-"
He silences your concerns with a gentle kiss. "Relax, amor. I was careful. No one saw me come in."
Despite your worries, you can't help but lean into him again, savoring the feeling of being in his arms after a week apart.
"I've missed you," you murmur against his chest.
"I've missed you too," he replies, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back, "It's like I'm addicted to you, I can't be apart from you for too long."
You look up at him, taking in the warmth in his brown eyes, the slight stubble on his jaw that you love to trace with your fingers. The realization of how much you've missed him hits you all at once, and you pull him down for a deeper kiss.
When you part, both slightly breathless, you can't help but laugh softly. "This is crazy, you know. What if my co-stars come knocking?"
"Then I'll hide in the closet like a teenager sneaking around. It'll be exciting."
He shrugged and you playfully swat his arm, but you can't deny the thrill of having him here, in your space, surrounded by the world of your work.
"How long can you stay?" you ask, hoping against hope that it's more than just a fleeting visit.
"I have to leave early tomorrow," he says, a hint of regret in his voice, "I know it's not much time together but I really needed to see you, kiss you, just be with you."
"I have to go back to filming now," you say reluctantly. "But I'll be done in a few hours."
Carlos nods understandingly. "Go, cariño. I'll wait here in your trailer. Maybe I'll raid your snack stash," he adds with a playful wink.
You laugh, giving him one last quick kiss before heading out. "Behave yourself, Sainz."
The rest of your filming flies by, your spirits lifted by the knowledge that Carlos is waiting for you. As soon as the director calls wrap, you hurry back to your trailer, your heart racing with anticipation.
Carlos is lounging on your small couch when you return, scrolling through his phone. He looks up as you enter, his face breaking into a warm smile. "There's my star."
You collapse into his arms, sighing contentedly. "I still can't believe you're here."
After a few moments of just holding each other, you both decide it's time to head to your hotel. You peek out of the trailer, checking if the coast is clear.
"Okay, I think we're good," you whisper, grabbing Carlos' hand and making a dash for it.
You weave between trailers and equipment, your hearts pounding with a mix of excitement and nervousness. Just as you're about to round the final corner to the parking lot, you spot a crew member heading your way.
"Quick, behind here," Carlos whispers urgently, pulling you behind a large lighting rig.
You both hold your breath as the crew member passes by, mere feet from your hiding spot. Once they're gone, you share a look of relief and almost burst out laughing at the same time. The situation was definitely comic.
As you make your final dash to your car, you hear a surprised voice calling your name from behind you. Turning slightly, you see one of the production assistants, their eyes wide with surprise as they take in the sight of you and Carlos hand-in-hand.
Without stopping, you give a quick wave and a "Goodnight!" before practically diving into your car. Carlos follows suit, and you peel out of the parking lot perhaps a bit faster than necessary. Thank god you're not the race car driver in the relationship.
Once you're on the road, you let out a long breath. "Well, that was close,"
"It's okay, amor," Carlos reaches over to squeeze your hand reassuringly, "Even if they saw us, it doesn't have to mean anything."
"But what if they start asking questions?" you glance at him, unconvinced, "Or worse, what if they tell someone? Deuxmoi is already onto us after Silverstone, what if someone tips them?"
"I still don't understand what Deuxmoi is," Carlos looked at you with confusion, which made you laugh, "But we'll deal with it. Remember, we haven't done anything wrong. We're just two people who care about each other."
You nod, trying to let his words calm you. "I know, I know. It's just... I'm not ready for the world to know yet. To have our relationship picked apart and speculated about."
Carlos brings your hand to his lips, kissing it softly. "I understand. And we'll do everything we can to keep our privacy."
"Okay," you agree, offering him a small smile. "Thank you for always knowing how to calm me down."
"It's because I love you," Carlos says simply, his eyes warm as they meet yours at a stoplight.
The rest of the drive passes in comfortable conversation. By the time you reach the hotel, you're feeling much more relaxed, ready to enjoy your time together.
As you park the car, Carlos turns to you with a mischievous grin. "Now, shall we make another escape to your room, or do you think we can manage to walk in like normal people this time?"
"I think we can risk it. But if anyone asks, you're just my very attractive Swiss tour guide."
"Tour guide, huh?" Carlos waggles his eyebrows. "I can think of a few places I'd like to show you."
Rolling your eyes affectionately, you get out of the car. "Come on, horndog. Let's go before you get us into more trouble."
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gossiphub Guess who got caught sneaking out of a movie set in Switzerland? None other than actress YN and Ferrari driver Carlos Sainz! 📸 These two were seen holding hands and looking super close. Could this be the start of a new power couple? What are your thoughts?
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username1 OMFGGGG
username2 AH I KNEW IT
username3 this was expected after silverstone
username4 THE POWER THIS HOLDS
username5 the couple we didn’t know we needed
username6 YALL what if they’ve been actually dating for longer 😭
username7 I NEED MORE OF THIS
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sainznews “YN is someone I admire a lot. Right now, though, I'm fully focused on the season and my performance on the track. I prefer to keep my personal life separate from my professional life.” -Carlos today !
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username1 BROOOO
username2 he said you’re NAWT getting details
username3 bold of the interviewer to ask 😭
username4 i really want them to be a couple but maybe they’re just friends
username5 COME ON SPILL THE DEETS
username6 oh well
username7 his ass was shaking
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yourinstagram The train ride home ❣️
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username1 iconic behavior
username2 girl come here address the rumors
gemmachan A beauty 🤍🤍
daisyedgarjones 🥹🥹
username3 i love that both of them are just playing dumb
username4 CARLOS IN THE LIKES
username5 ah shit they’re not going to confirm anything
username6 CARLOSYN IS REAL
username7 potential it couple and they’re playing dumb
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The headlines hit like a tidal wave after your Swiss rendezvous. "A List Actress Spotted with F1 Star Carlos Sainz!" "YN and Carlos Sainz: Secret Romance?" Paparazzi photos of your flooded gossip sites and social media. Fans and media alike dissecting every detail of the grainy images.
You and Carlos spent hours on the phone, figuring out your response. "Maybe we should just confirm it," Carlos suggested one night, his voice tinged with frustration.
"Not yet," you replied, biting your lip. "Let's wait for it to die down a bit. We don't owe them an explanation."
So you played it cool, neither confirming nor denying the rumors. Carlos deflected questions at press conferences with his characteristic charm, while you posted on social media as if nothing had changed. It was stressful, constantly looking over your shoulders, but you managed to keep your relationship under wraps for a little longer.
However, as the world premiere of your movie approached, you made a decision. Curled up on the couch with Carlos during a rare weekend together, you turned to him, tracing patterns on his chest.
"I've been thinking," you started, your heart racing.
Carlos looked at you, his eyes soft. "About what, cariño?"
You took a deep breath. "I want you to come with me to the premiere. As my date. I'm ready for the world to know about us."
Carlos' face lit up with pure joy. He sat up, pulling you onto his lap. "Really? You're sure about this?"
"I'm sure," you nodded, cupping his face, "I love you, Carlos. I'm tired of hiding it."
He peppered your face with kisses, unable to contain his excitement. "I love you too, YN. So much. You have no idea how happy this makes me."
"I think I have some idea," you teased, gesturing to his beaming face.
Carlos pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours. "No more sneaking around? No more pretending we're just friends?"
"No more," you confirmed.
He kissed you deeply, pouring all his love and excitement into it. When you parted, both slightly breathless, Carlos grinned. "So, do I get to coordinate my tie with your dress?"
"Is that all you're thinking about? Fashion?" you rolled your eyes affectionately.
"No," he replied, his eyes twinkling. "I'm also thinking about how I get to show off the most beautiful, talented woman in the world as my girlfriend."
The night of the premiere arrived quicker than you expected. Carlos looked devastatingly handsome in a sharp black suit, his hair perfectly styled. As you put the finishing touches on your makeup, you caught him watching you in the mirror, his eyes full of adoration.
"What?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious.
He shook his head, smiling softly. "Nothing. I just can't believe how lucky I am."
In the limo on the way to the theater, Carlos took your hand, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your skin. "Nervous?" he asked.
You nodded, letting out a shaky breath. "A little. You?"
"Excited," he replied, bringing your hand to his lips for a soft kiss. As the limo approached the theater, you could already hear the roar of the crowd. Carlos pulled you close, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. "Remember, no matter what happens out there, it's just you and me. Okay?"
"You and me."
The limo door opened, and suddenly you were blinded by camera flashes. Carlos stepped out first, then turned to offer you his hand. As you emerged, the crowd's volume doubled. Carlos kept his hand on the small of your back, a constant reassuring presence as you made your way down the carpet.
When you reached the photo spot, he pulled you close, his arm wrapping securely around your waist. The crowd went wild, cameras clicking furiously. You could hear reporters shouting questions, but you focused on Carlos, on the warmth of his touch and the love in his eyes.
As you made your way down the carpet, Carlos couldn't seem to keep his hands off you. He'd lean in to in your ear, his hand never leaving your waist. At one point, he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, sending the photographers into a frenzy.
You stopped for a few interviews, Carlos by your side the whole time. When asked about your relationship, you simply smiled and said, "We're very happy together." Carlos would beam at you, his pride evident in every glance.
By the time you entered the theater, you were both giddy with excitement and relief. As you took your seats, Carlos leaned over, his lips brushing your ear. "You were amazing out there. I love you so much."
You turned to him, your heart full. "I love you too. Thank you for being here with me."
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
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gossiphub 🚨🚨CARLOS SAINZ AND YN HAVE ARRIVED TOGETHER AT HER PREMIERE IN LONDON
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username1 OMGGGGG
username2 I CANNOT BELIEVE MY EYES
username3 IT WAS REAL ALL THIS TIME
username4 power couple of the century
username5 they look so cunty omg f1 needed a couple like this
username6 FACE ECONOMY TOGETHER
username7 IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS TIME
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yourinstagram My handsome date 🥰
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username1 AHHHHH
username2 CARLOS I WASNT FAMILIAR WITH YOUR GAME
username3 man he is so HOT
andrewgarfield Can you get me tickets for a Grand Prix?
↳ username1 HEEEEELP
↳ yourinstagram 🙄🙄🙄
↳ carlossainz55 You’re welcome anytime, mate!
username4 yn blessing us with boyfriend carlos content already
username5 this relationship is the best thing that happened to us
landonorris Oh he showers
↳ maxverstappen1 Really impressive
↳ username1 THE GRID IS HERE
↳ carlossainz55 Cabrones
carlossainz55 I love you mi amor ❤️❤️
↳ yourinstagram 🥹
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carlossainz55 My 👸❤️
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username1 OH LORDDD
username2 SIMP CARLOS
username3 he’s so in love my heart
scuderiaferarri ❤️
anasainzvdec Hermosa!
blancasainzv 🤍🤍🤍
username4 this relationship is a blessing for real
username5 CARLOS POSTING HIS GF???? HIS A LIST ACTRESS GF ?????
username6 i love them sm
username7 how long do you think he waited before turning his insta into a fanpage of her
fernandoalo_oficial 👏👏👏
pierregasly Double dates?
↳ francisca.cgomes PRETTY PLEASE
↳ yourinstagram Absolutely 🥰
yourinstagram I loveeeeeee youuuuu
↳ carlossainz55 ❤️
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
The Dutch Grand Prix in Zandvoort, the first race after the summer break. You were attending again, but this time, you walked into the paddock hand-in-hand with Carlos. There was no need for secrecy. You were here as his girlfriend, and the world knew it.
Fans call out your names as you make your way through the paddock, and you both wave, Carlos' arm protectively around your waist. The comfort of being able to show your affection openly still feels thrilling.
As you approach the Ferrari garage, you spot Charles chatting with some engineers. He turns and breaks into a wide grin at the sight of you two.
"Well, well, if it isn't the happy couple!" Charles calls out, walking over to greet you.
"Charles, I don't think you've been properly introduced to my girlfriend yet," Carlos laughs, pulling you closer.
You exchange pleasantries, and then Charles shakes his head, chuckling. "You know, I feel terrible now. I literally wanted to ask you out that day at Silverstone because I had no idea you were together!"
You all share a laugh at the irony, and Carlos playfully narrows his eyes at his teammate. "Watch it, Leclerc. She's taken."
"Be nice, darling," you swat Carlos' arm lightly, "Charles is just being honest."
As you watched Carlos chat animatedly with his teammate, you couldn't help but feel a sense of rightness. This was where you belonged, by Carlos' side, sharing in his world.
"Carlos, we need you for a quick strategy briefing," the engineer said, glancing at his watch.
Carlos nodded, then turned to you with an apologetic smile. "Duty calls, amor. I shouldn't be too long."
"No worries," you assured him. "I'll find ways to entertain myself."
He leaned in, kissing you softly. "I'll text you when I'm done," he promised, then followed his engineer out of the room.
With some time to kill, you decided to explore the paddock. It felt liberating to walk around openly, no longer worried about being spotted or sparking rumors. As you passed the McLaren garage, a familiar voice called out to you.
"Well, if it isn't Mrs. Smooth Operator herself!"
You turned to see Lando Norris grinning at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Lando!" you greeted him warmly. "How are you?"
"I'm good, but more importantly, how are you?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Finally free from the chains of secrecy, eh?"
You recalled the night when the headlines about your relationship with Carlos had broken, and Lando had been the first to reach out. That evening, over dinner at your place, you and Carlos had shared the story of your six-month secret romance with him. Lando had been surprisingly supportive, and since then, he'd become a close confidant and ally.
You chatted with him for a bit, he was someone always fun to talk to and you were happy Carlos had someone like him in his life.
Just then, your phone buzzed with a text from Carlos.
"Let me guess," Lando said, a knowing smirk on his face. "Lover boy is calling?"
You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. "As a matter of fact, yes. I should probably go."
"Go on then," Lando shooed you away playfully, "Go be disgustingly in love somewhere else."
You laughed, giving him a quick hug before heading towards the Ferrari hub. As you walked, you felt happy to be able to walk openly into his private space without worrying about prying eyes or rumors.
You knocked softly on the door of his driver's room. "Come in," Carlos called out.
As you entered, you found Carlos sitting on the small couch, still in his casual team gear. He looked up, his face breaking into a warm smile as he saw you.
"Hey you," he said, standing up and crossing the room to pull you into an embrace.
"Hey yourself," you replied, melting into his arms. "How are you feeling?"
Carlos pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your waist. "Better now that you're here," he said, his eyes twinkling.
You laughed softly, reaching up to smooth a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Charmer. But really, how are you?"
He took a deep breath, his expression turning more serious. "A little nervous, if I'm honest. The pressure is high here."
"That's natural," you nodded understandingly, your hand coming to rest on his cheek, "But Carlos, you're amazing. You've got this."
"Thank you, cariño," he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly, "Your support means everything to me."
For a moment, you both stood there in comfortable silence, foreheads touching, breathing each other in. There was no rush, no fear of discovery. Just the two of you, sharing a quiet moment before the storm of the race.
"I love that we can do this now," you murmured, breaking the silence. "No sneaking around, no looking over our shoulders."
Carlos smiled, pulling you closer. "Me too. It feels right, doesn't it? Having you here with me, openly by my side."
You nodded, your heart swelling with emotion. "It does. I'm so proud to be with you, Carlos. To support you."
His eyes softened, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. You responded eagerly, pouring all your love and support into the gesture.
"I love you," he whispered.
"I love you too," you replied, your fingers tracing patterns on the back of his neck.
A knock on the door interrupted your moment. "Ten minutes, Carlos," came a voice from outside.
"I should go," you said reluctantly, but Carlos held onto your hand.
"Stay with me?" he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. "Just for a few more minutes?"
You nodded, squeezing his hand. "Of course."
You sat together on the small couch, Carlos's arm around you, your head resting on his shoulder. No words were needed; your presence was enough to calm his pre-race nerves.
As the minutes ticked by, you felt Carlos take a deep breath, his body shifting as he prepared mentally for the race ahead.
"Time to go be a superhero," you said softly, lifting your head to meet his gaze.
Carlos smiled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before standing up. "Wait for me at the finish line?"
"Always."
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yourinstagram Heart eyes for my smooth operator 🥰
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username1 AWEEEE
username2 she’s down bad
arianagrande glowiiiing ✨
username3 couple of the century
username4 i love how they were keeping it lowkey but now they can’t stop posting each other as they should
scuderiaferarri Our paddock queen ❤️
username5 yn don’t get used to the ferrari red you’ll be wearing blue next year
username6 GET MARRIED ALREADY
anasainzvdec 😍
username7 every time the camera showed her she was either panicking or grinning from ear to ear I LOVE HER
carlossainz55 Mi amor 🤍
↳ username1 CARLOSSS
↳ username2 that should be me
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carlossainz55 P10 ➡️ P5! Beyond happy to share the race with my love @/yourinstagram 😘 Special weekend ahead at Monza, can’t wait to race in front of our Tifosi!
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username1 AHHHHHH
username2 BEST COUPLE EVER
username3 YN DID HOT LAPS WITH CARLOS !!!!
↳ username1 BEST VIDEO EVER
↳ username2 I LOVE THEM SO BAD
scuderiaferarri The Tifosi awaits ❤️
anasainzvdec 🙌
username4 VAMOS CARLITOS
username5 yn and carlos sainz dating is the best thing ever
charles_leclerc 👌👌👌
yourinstagram I love you 🥰🥰 I could get used to this
↳ username1 QUEEN NEVER LEAVE THE PADDOCK
↳ username2 we need her at every race
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hoonieyun · 3 days ago
Text
this is where it ends ⋆˙⟡♡
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days of dodging your boyfriend after your fight finally lead you to the answer you've been looking for (read part one here) heeseung 𐐪♡𐑂 jongseong 𐐪♡𐑂 jaeyun 𐐪♡𐑂 sunghoon genre: aaaaangsttttt!!! angst!! heartbreak.. OOF warnings: toxic relationship, bad coping mechanisms, profanity, mentions of drinking as an addiction, gaslighting, arguing, 18+
hoonieyun notes: WHEW... lowkey was like.. damn this shit is TOO angsty so sorry in advance but im obsessed with angst lately and watching xo kitty did not help because that show was a rollercoaster LMAO anyways i hope you guys enjoy this sad piece of work because i have more coming with my vday anthology and exes reunited series plus! i've just announced my 1k follower special!
𐐪♡𐑂 @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @17ericas @manaah02 @heeseung64 @zorange13 @heartheejake @cloud-lyy @heeweenie @jakesimfromstatefarm @lovelymelon @1-itsneverthatserious-1 @anushkaaaiaiiaiaia
@chvconn3 @heeheeyeoiizz01 @pjselee @malloryaloisia @alienqbrain @jooniesbears-blog @haeeeeefer @firstclassjaylee
heeseung ⋆˚ʚɞ
it had been 3 days since you left heeseung standing in your apartment, dumbfounded and unsure of where you were. you really had hoped he would run after you that night but he didn’t and that seemed to put the nail in the coffin for you. 
were you ready to throw away your relationship all because of this? 
was it worth it to lose the person you love? 
you had pondered on so many questions since that night and each question felt like you were guilt tripping yourself into thinking that your own feelings weren’t valid, like you were trying to convince yourself that you were overreacting and that heeseung was right. 
why were you being so annoying?
but these questions only led to more questions instead of answers.
were you being annoying or were you just tired of not being heard? 
if you hadn’t been the one to constantly ask him to clean up after himself would he have done it on his own? 
why were you trying to come up with reasons to talk yourself back into his arms when you truly knew deep down the answer you were looking for…
you just weren’t ready to come to terms with it. 
so here you were, hurriedly packing what you could before heeseung could come home. and just to your luck, he had arrived much earlier than you anticipated. “yn?” heeseungs says, shock painted across his face as he sees you standing in the hallway with a box of your things. 
“wh- what are you doing?” he asks, eyes falling on the box in your hands. 
both of you knew the answer to that. 
“i think- i can’t do this anymore, hee… 
i did a lot of thinking these past fews days and everything i thought of i found myself trying to make excuses for you. trying to figure out why i was acting this way and why i was going out of my way to make it seem like i was the one causing these issues and stressing myself out and then i realized… 
why was i trying to compromise my own happiness and well being for someone who didn’t care about me? 
for someone who couldn’t simply understand where i was coming from and couldn’t even listen to me when all i would ask for was something so easy as to clean up after yourself. 
heeseung, you’re grown and so am i and i’m done acting like your words and actions don’t hurt solely for the fact that i don’t want to lose you. 
we’re over.” your eyes had tears pooling in them but you refused to let them fall in front of heeseung. 
“what?” heeseung asks, slipping his shoes off and running over to you in an attempt to stop you, reaching for the box but you move out of the way before he can. 
“yn.. can we please talk about this? don’t jump to conclusions just because you’re hurt. this isn’t what you want, what about us? 
are you willing to throw us away because of some petty fight?” and that’s when you knew that you and heeseung weren’t on the same page… at all. 
“that’s what you have to say?” and at this point you had lost the fight to stop the tears from falling. 
“you haven’t even apologized? and now you’re here trying to gaslight me into thinking that what i’m feeling is just the result of a petty fight? 
hee, you never listen to me. you dismissed my feelings and all i asked was you clean up our bedroom because i was tired. i’m sorry but if that was such a hard task then i don’t know what to tell you. 
i’m not jumping to conclusions. heeseung, we’re done.” you say, pushing passed him so you could leave and move on. start new and heal from this pain. 
“really? you’re just going to walk away?” heeseung asks, still refusing to take accountability for his actions. 
“i’m not walking away… you pushed me away.”
“bye, heeseung.”
jongseong ⋆˚ʚɞ
jay hadn’t been able to pick up a bottle of alcohol since that night… 5 months ago. he hadn’t realized he developed a bad habit of drinking all because he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that his loving girlfriend, the one who took care of him, who loved him, who fought for him to make things right, was slowly becoming someone he didn’t love anymore. 
so why was it that now that you two were broken up, he wants nothing more to get back together with you? 
he thought about the day you finally came back. after you ran out in the middle of the night jay didn’t see you for a whole week and by the end of that week, you would be gone for good. 
“is this what you really want?” jay had asked you right before you left. 
“its not what i want… but it doesn’t seem like what i want would be something that could ever happen if i stayed with you. 
you hurt me, jay. all i ever did was care for you and love you and it made me realize i hadn’t felt care or love from you for a while now. 
i truly hope that you get help for your drinking problem but i’m sorry i’m not going to be the one to fix it for you.” and with that you were gone. out of jay’s life and although you had said that you weren’t going to be the one to fix his drinking problem, in a lot of ways; you did fix it. 
he hadn’t drank since that night and vowed to himself that he wouldn’t drink ever again and 5 months after, he’s kept that promise. 
jay wished that he did keep his promise to you. 
when he finally asked you to be his girlfriend, he had promised to hold your heart close to his and to never break it. only to find himself distancing his heart from yours and eventually shattering it into millions of pieces when you got into a fight that night. 
but he was now forced to face all of this all over again as you stood in front of him, mirroring the same shocked face he had as the two of you run into each other at a mutual friends party. 
you hadn’t seen jay since that night and although your heart ached for him, you had to choose yourself. you couldn’t stand being with someone who saw you as overbearing when all you did was care for and love them. 
you truly had been worried about jay ever since his drinking habits had gone worse and maybe you could’ve gone about it a better way and not made him feel attacked for his actions but he didn’t have the same consideration for you so why should you do the same… right? 
“h-hi.. yn. you look good.” jay stutters. 
“you do too, um.. i–” you begin to say but he cuts you off. “look, i know we didn’t end on the right foot and these past five months have been hard for me so i could only imagine how hard they’ve been on you. 
i wasn’t right to treat you that way and i’m sorry i’m only realizing it now. i miss you so much and i spend countless nights thinking about you. reminiscing on the good times and how i let myself ruin all of it. 
i’m sorry, yn.” it all comes out like word vomit and quite frankly, you weren’t prepared to hear any of it. you also hadn’t expected him to have this much of grasp on your relationship five months after, but it was all too late. 
“i’m sorry too, jay– but i can’t keep doing this. i think you need to move on. i know i will…” you muttered.
“for what it’s worth… you did help me… i’m five months sober.” he confesses and you give him a tight lipped smile. 
“take care of yourself, ok?” you say before turning around to leave and although jay wished that he could’ve said all of this five months sooner in hopes that it would’ve fixed your relationship, he respects your wishes and just hopes that the next guy who comes around would love you the way you deserved to be loved. 
jaeyun ⋆˚ʚɞ
in the time you’ve dated jake or quite frankly, anyone, they had never raised their voice and spoke to you in that way. jake seemed so angry and upset that it scared you. you knew that jake would never hurt you but his words pierced your heart in ways that caused you pain you had never felt before, especially from someone you love and was supposed to love you.
it always hurts more when it comes from someone you love right? 
you had come home the next day and found jake sleeping on the couch, hugging the plushy that he often said looked like you. 
you’d be lying if you said that seeing him like this didn’t make your heart hurt… but it did. 
it seemed like jake had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for you but you couldn’t shake the feeling.
the feeling of being unwanted, unloved, undesirable, and not enough for someone who is supposed to love you. 
but if jake had loved you he wouldn’t have raised his voice at you.. let alone speak to you in that tone and used language that was meant to hurt someone. 
“yn? is that you?” he says, stretching on the couch and rubbing his eyes, causing you to snap out of it. you quickly wipe away the tears that had miraculously appeared. “um, yeah. i just came to grab some things. you can go back to sleeping..” you explained as you made your way to your shared bedroom. 
“baby? can we talk?” jake says, peering into the room as he sees you packing your things inside of duffel bag. “wait- what are you packing? are you leaving? baby, please don’t do this, can we talk this out?” he was now on his knees in front of you, clutching onto your sweater while he begged. 
“jake, get up.” you say, rolling your eyes at him. 
“its just for a few days, i need time to myself- i need to think, ok?” you said and even now, even when you’re still hurting because of him from the night before, you were here trying to comfort him. 
jake stands up with a sniffle and he attempts to link your hands together but you pull away to continue packing your bag. “when are we going to talk about this? i love you, i don’t want you to leave… please stay.” he continues to beg and although its working, you needed to stay strong. 
“if you loved me you wouldn’t have spoken to me like that. people who love each other don’t speak to people they love that way. 
jake, you hurt me… and i don’t know what i did to deserve that treatment but i just wanted help. i spent all day running errands despite feeling like shit because of my period and you dismissed my feelings like it was nothing. 
that blanket meant so much to me, you knew that it was from my late grandmother yet you tossed it aside for your own accord because you didn’t have the same care for me and the things i love the way i do for you.” you said with a huff as you stuffed the last of your things into the bag. 
“when will you come back?” was all jake asked and all you could muster up was a shrug, because you weren’t entirely sure when you would be back. 
needless to say, a few days turned into a few weeks, and a few weeks turned into a few months and at some point you found yourself not having the need to come back. 
you wished you could get the closure you wanted from jake and you were sure he also wanted that, but walking away was something you needed to do. even if it was just one instance where jake spoke to you that way, it was enough for you to leave because you weren’t going to allow yourself to be with someone who found it in themselves to speak that way to someone they supposedly loved. 
not then, not now, and not ever.
sunghoon ⋆˚ʚɞ
sunghoon hadn’t known what he was doing, it was like his body was moving before his brain could think because he was running back inside and grabbing his car keys to drive after you. 
he wasn’t sure where you were headed off to but he had guessed that you were most likely going to stay with your mom. you were always close with your mom and she often was the person you went to when you were having troubles if you didn’t go to sunghoon. 
sunghoon knew he fucked up and he shouldn’t have treated you that way let alone let some strangers treat you that way. he didn’t know what let him get to the point where he was allowing these men to speak about you, the girl that he loved, in a way that made you feel small. demeaning and degrading you in a way that he hadn’t realized and even if he did, he chose to look away instead of defend you all because he was filled with the greed of wanting this promotion. 
was it even worth it anymore if it meant losing you? 
sunghoon was speeding at this point and although you hadn’t left much before he had went to follow you, there was no one else in the streets as he sped through to catch up to you. 
in a short amount of time, he’s turning into the street that your mom lives on and sure enough, he sees you just about to walk up to the front door. he hapazardly parks the car on the side of the street and stumbles out of his car to get to you. 
“yn, please. wait, lets talk about this!” he says and you’re startled at sunghoon suddenly appearing and you wipe the tears from your face and blink a few times to make sure he was actually there. 
“hoon? what are you doing here?” you ask, stepping down the small stairway that led to your mom’s home. “i couldn’t just let you leave like that, we need to talk-
look i’m sorry for the way i treated you and even more sorry that i let them treat you that way. i love you so much and i couldn’t imagine the amount of hurt i caused you for making it seem like i was okay with letting them say those things about you all because i wanted that promotion so damn bad. 
i was selfish and greedy but those are the things that make me want you more. i don’t want you to leave and walk away from me because i am selfish and greedy and i want you all to myself. 
i’m sorry that i didn’t defend you and i made you feel small…” he says and at this point sunghoon is crying. his voice breaks with every other word and you truly hadn’t seen sunghoon in this much distress, ever. 
you didn’t know how to respond but the longer you looked into sunghoon’s bloodshot eyes, the more confused you became. 
you could tell sunghoon was sincere but you didn’t think this was something that could be fixed right then and there. your sensitivity was always something you struggled with and sunghoon knew that yet he brushed off your feelings like it was nothing. 
“you shouldn’t have driven out all this way… 
because although i appreciate your apology i don’t know that i’m in the right place to accept it or to forgive you. 
sunghoon you hurt me and you let others hurt me. 
i’m selfish too, i want you all to myself too and i wouldn’t have stayed so long if i didn’t love you and want to be with you… but-
i don’t know if i can be with someone that doesn’t see me in the way i deserve. 
and i certainly know i don’t deserve any of that.” both of your attention is drawn to the sound of the front door as it opens, revealing your mother in her nightwear and arms crossed; a displeased expression on her face. 
“i’ll reach out to you when i’m ready.” you say and without another word you’re retreating into your mom’s home, hiding away from sunghoon and preparing yourself to have to face the inevitable one day. 
sunghoon on the other hand, drags himself to his car, head hanging low as he has to come to terms that his own selfishness and greed for the one he loved was also what caused him to lose the love of his life. 
copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3
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mariasont · 18 hours ago
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A Puddle in Running Shoes A.H.
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summary: your boyfriend finds out you have a praise kink and is having way too much fun with that information
masterlist
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pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
warnings: some suggestive content, hotch being a menace, reader having a praise kink, end suggests something may happen but nothing explicit in this one folks im getting my libido under control swear, also count how many times r refers to hotch's face as stupid im crying
wc: 1.9k
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You hated running. No—loathed it. Detested it. Despised it with every fiber of your being. If there was a stronger word, one that captured the burning, irrational rage you felt whenever someone suggested going for a jog, Spencer might have known it, but you couldn't bring yourself to care enough to ask. Simply put, running was not your thing.
But when Aaron—your boyfriend and somehow the most persistent man alive—asked you to join you on a run, you couldn't exactly say no. He didn't beg—Aaron Hotchner did not beg—but his version of asking, that soft it'd mean a lot to me paired with an encouraging smile, was close enough to begging in your book. Besides, you figured there'd be some sort of reward when you got back home. Aaron was good at those.
So here you were, contributing absolutely nothing to your marathon-obsessed, fitness-loving FBI boyfriend's training. Sweat coated every inch of your body, your legs felt like lead, and your lungs burned with every ragged breath you managed to suck in. The sun blazed overhead, making you feel more like a roasting chicken than a willing participant in this so-called fun activity.
Aaron, on the other hand, looked like he'd stepped out of a fitness ad—shirt clinging to him in ways that felt outright scandalous. Even the sweat on his face somehow made him look even more attractive.
He was at least ten paces ahead of you and every few steps, he'd glance over his shoulder, probably checking to make sure you hadn't spontaneously combusted or snuck off to find an air-conditioned cafe. Honestly, both were real possibilities.
Aaron's pace slowed until he was running beside you, throwing you a smile so unfairly handsome it made your legs feel weaker than they already did.
"How are you feeling?" The question felt retorical—anyone, profiler or not, was sure to be able to read you like an open book right now. "Still alive, or do I need to start figuring out the best way to carry you home without breaking any traffic laws?"
"I think I'm alive," you managed between gasps, wiping sweat from your brow. "But if carrying me is on the table, I'm not above playing dead to make that happen."
"Not necessary—I'd carry you anyway, if only to reward you for keeping up this long. You're doing great."
You foot caught a crack in the pavement, nearly hurling yourself into it, but Aaron's hand was there quicker keeping you upright as you tried to ignore the terrifying way your body had reacted to his compliment.
"Okay you can't just say stuff like that while I'm trying to run," you blurted out, avoiding his gaze. "You're trying to kill me, I swear."
You planted your hands on your hips, still trying to catch your breath, secretly relieved to have a break—even if it almost involved a face-first meeting with the sidewalk.
"Stuff like what?" He tugged at your ponytail and you swatted his hand.
"Nothing," you said way too quickly, shaking your head like you could physically toss what you said aside. "Forget I said anything. Let's just... keep running."
You quickly realized your mistake as soon as you started jogging again. You would never willingly suggest to keep running. Unfortunately, Aaron was actively aware of this, moving to come up beside you. You didn't need to look at him to know he had the stupidest smirk on his face.
He didn't say anything at first, to your immediate relief, just kept jogging beside you. The silence stretched on, his calm breathing only seeming to make your wheezing sound worse.
"You're breathing too shallow," he said after a moment, his tone completely casual like he wasn't even winded. "Try to take deeper breaths—match them to your strides. It'll make it easier."
You glanced towards him out of the corner of your eye before attempting his suggestion. You had no intention of letting him know that it worked. His ego was far too substantial for that.
"See? You're a natural," he said, shooting you a sidelong glance. "Atta girl."
Your brain flatlined and you almost tripped over your feet again, every rational thought replaced by static. What was wrong with you? You vaguely remembered reading somewhere that people with unresolved daddy issues were prone to developing praise kinks. Was that what this was? Whatever the reason, hearing Aaron talk like that shouldn't make you feel all gooey inside, but here you were, a puddle in running shoes.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, yup, fine!"
You stared at the ground so intensely, it was a miracle you didn't bore a hole into the pavement. Your voice had betrayed you, far too shaky and way too rushed, and you knew Aaron was probably filing away every bit of your reaction.
"Hey," he said softly, his hand brushing against the back of your neck as he spoke. "Stop staring at the ground. You'll run better if you keep your head up—it'll open your chest so you can breathe easier."
His hand lingered for a second too long than what your body could handle, leaving you completely flustered and fighting every urge to do exactly the opposite of what he said.
"There you go," he murmured, a small, approving smile tugging at his lips. "That's good, honey. Just like that."
His voice—his god forsaken voice—was like a jolt to your system, and not in a good way. Or maybe it was a good way, which was the problem. It was bad enough to hearing it out here, on the jogging trail, but your brain decided to replay it in an entirely different inappropriate context: one that involved you, him, and a bed.
Your face burned, and you couldn't tell if it was from the exertion, or the very real possibility that your body was too receptive to those words. And now, not only were you fighting for every breath, but you were trying to figure out if the dampness between your legs was entirely from sweat. Surely it was sweat. Right? Gods, you hoped it was sweat.
You stopped so suddenly that Aaron jogged a few steps ahead before he realized you were not longer beside him.
"Okay, I'm calling it. I'm done. Can we please go home now?"
He jogged back to you, an easy smile on his face, and placed his hands on your shoulders as he reached you.
"Alright, we can be done," he teased, thumbs brushing lightly over your collarbones. "You survived, and you did great. I'm proud of you."
He leaned down then, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips that made the ache in your body a little easier to ignore.
When he pulled away, you barely managed to keep standing.
Aaron let out a low laugh, his hands squeezing your shoulders. "Alright. What's going on? What's wrong with you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," you said over your shoulder, practically power walking towards the car.
Aaron's laugh deepened and you ignored the funny feeling curling in your chest.
"Sweetheart," he said, gently tugging your elbow to slow you down. "Come on, talk to me."
"There's nothing to talk about, I'm fine!" You avoided his eyes as you tugged your elbow free. "I'm just tired, and, uh, need a shower."
A cold shower, your brain screamed, but you shoved the thought down.
"I know, I know you're tired," he said, lips curving into a smile, "but that's because you actually pushed yourself. I'm proud of you for sticking with it."
You were pretty convinced you were you were about to go up in flames. Your obituary would read death by too many unnecessary compliments. When your heart inevitably gave out, Aaron would have to explain to Rossi and the others how his dumb smile and sweet words had resulted in second degree manslaughter.
But then you saw it—the smirk. The one that said he absolutely knew what he was doing.
"Oh my gosh, you know!" You groaned and threw your hands in the air. "You know, and you're enjoying this!"
Spinning away from him, you stormed to the car, and slammed the door like it might shield you from his stupidly smug face.
You barely had time to exhale before the passenger door swung open, revealing Aaron, casually leaning against the car.
"You know," he said lightly, his tone far too casual for your liking, "slamming car doors isn't a great habit. You could hurt yourself."
"And you know," you snapped back, pointing at him, "torturing your girlfriend isn't a great habit either!"
He leaned in slowly, his fingers brushing against your shoulder as he grabbed your seatbelt. As he clicked it into place, his face lingered close to yours.
"I wasn't trying to torture you, baby. Just wanted to give you the chance to admit it—that you liked it."
Before you could muster a reply, Aaron's hand slid up to cradle your face, his thumb moving along your cheek. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was so deep, leaving you no choice but to sink into it, even as the faint remnants of your annoyance tried to surface.
By the time he pulled back, you felt like you were under his spell. Then, without another word, he shut your door and headed to the driver's side.
"That's not fair," you muttered, crossing your arms and pouting as you stared out the window.
Aaron's hand found the back of your neck as he backed out of the parking spot, rubbing gently into smooth circles.
"I don't mean to be unfair," he said with a small smile. "I just needed to hear it, because sometimes people don't even realize what they need until they say it out loud. And I wanted to make sure I didn't misread anything—though I'm rarely wrong, as you know."
"Trust me, you remind me every chance you get." Your tone was dry, but you were well aware that the twitch in your lip was giving you away.
"Alright, smartass," he said, chuckling as his fingers pressed a little firmer into your neck. "Now tell me—how does it make you feel when I say those things to you?"
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "I don't know, okay? I just... like it! Do I have to explain it?"
"You don't have to explain it if you don't want to," he said, "but I'd like to know what it is you like so much."
Aaron's hand moved from your neck to your hand, his fingers sliding between each of yours while his eyes stayed glued to the road, a thing that only came from months of familiar motions.
You let out a long breath. "I don't know. I just like hearing it. It makes me feel good. Special, I guess."
"You are special, sweetheart." His eyes flicked to you before returning to the road. "You're my best girl."
Your stomach flipped violently. You shifted again, trying to disguise the way your thighs pressed together tightly as your face burned hotter than ever. The debate earlier in your head was officially over—absolutely not just sweat, you thought miserably.
Aaron let out a soft chuckle, fingers brushing over your knuckles. "Something I said?"
You swatted his shoulder, your glare losing all its bite thanks to the flush all over your body. "You're enjoying this way too much."
"I can't help it," he murmured, voice dipping just enough to get you on edge. "But don't worry—I'll take care of my best girl once we're home."
You slumped in your seat, muttering something unintelligible that made Aaron chuckle again. And even though you wouldn't admit it, you found yourself smiling, already dreading and anticipating whatever he had planned when you got home.
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kivrumi · 22 hours ago
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GEEK! SATORU GOJO / FEM! READER ᗢ𓄹 ׅ ࣪ ˖ ⊹
⚠️ WARNINGS: masturbation, dirty fantasies and thoughts, pervert behaviour, down bad Satoru, submissive Gojo, no actual smut (smut in part 2), very suggestive, NSFW, virgin Gojo who is severely downbad for reader.
A little bit of Geto/Sukuna x reader
PART 1 | PART 2
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geek!gojo who is entirely obsessed with anime, video games, and whatever weird shit he can find on the internet. He can play boring simple games but they are nothing compared to the ones with heavy lore. Is it weird he is also obsessed with the lore behind all of these games? How the games were founded, what they mean, the creators themself, why was it made and the depth of every character.
whenever he found something new and intresting it will take over his entire personality.
geek!gojo would know weird facts about the creators of his intrests too. Like who bothered to find out or who even cares to find out that one of the creators of animal crossings birthday is April 7th? If you ever had a birthday that was the same as one of them he is IMMEDIATELY informing you.
geek!gojo who rambles to Geto about fortnite lore and any other lore he needs to tell someone, no one else cares to listen to him. Hell even Geto don't give a fuck but listens anyways (his ass is NOT listening and Gojo knows that).
geek!gojo who is in college and is a known loser. Glasses, Dragon Ball Z wallpaper, and a fucking random dinosaur as his phone cover. Trust me, that dinosaur has a lot of lore too that you WILL be informed about if you are anywhere near him.
Hence why no one goes near the guy.
geek!gojo who sees you for the first time, a transfer student. You are so utterly beautiful in his eyes he is already thinking how to ask you out with cheesy pick up lines that refrences his favourite game at the moment.
geek!gojo who seethes with jealousy seeing how easily you fit in with normies, its not like he knew if you had intresting taste, he just gave you his own little headcanon on some things he assumes you will share intrest with him.
annoyed!geto who has to not only hear about Satorus geeky ass topics, but now a girl he has never spoken to being his potential future wife. Sure you were overly pretty, but would you really want a geek like Satoru?
geek!gojo who has been eyeing you for almost a month now, same classes as you but never had the chance to utter a word at you. Instead he sits at the back with Geto, staring daggers at you (his way of rizzing) for not paying attention to him. He is mad how you found yourself in a big popular friendgroup, and seated sooooo far away from him.
geek!gojo who knows YOUR lore. Geto says its creepy but Geto doesn't know anything. Gojo is aware of how many siblings you have, your favorite food, drink, color and everything he could possibly grab by purposely earsdropping on your conversations.
Yet no sign of you sharing geeky intrests with Gojo... oh well, if you really are just an extremely pretty and cute normie, he will just have to teach you about everything he likes one by one!
geek!gojo who gets teased and bullied by the other people in your friendgroup, it was never physical, just constant nagging comments.
"Whats the nerd doing here" they would say, or "Isn't that the guy that has a roblox girlfriend?" He didn't have a roblox girlfriend that was just a rumour! It was just his own Miku avatar they got confused with! He hopes to god you dont believe that rumour! He is single and looking, looking at only you!
YOU who never batted an eye at him when your friends would tease him. It bothered him, not exactly how you would think...
Yes, he would love if you defended him, he would cry tears of joy. He wants that more than anything.
But you wouldn't give him that, the least you could do is join in the teasing. He ached for you to give him any sort of attention. Why were you standing there minding your own business when the rest of your friends are gossiping about him! After all this time do you not care to know about him? Even if it is to laugh about how much of a loser he is?
nerd!gojo who starts trying to find ways for you to notice him. Did you not realise how lately he only wears your favorite color? Look! He is eating your favorite snack!! Don't you want to ask for some? Ask him how much he likes them? Where he bought them? If you want to get some with him? Date him?
tired!geto who constantly bugs Gojo to forget about you, as the two sat in class. The teacher was reading out who gets paired with who for some project. Wait!! This is it!!! The sensei is obviously going to pair you and Gojo, thats how the fanfictions go... right?
geek!gojo whos ears perk up at the sensei calling your name, then swears someone shot him 568 times when he hears the name to go along with it.
"Suguru Geto"
geek!gojo is fuming, this is not how it's supposed to go! What happens if you get too close with Suguru during this two week project?
"Satoru and Sukuna" of course, he has to be paired with your annoying friend. There were even rumours of you two dating! Does this mean he is paired with your maybe secret boyfriend?
geek!gojo who suffered the two weeks of dealing with Sukuna and his friend getting you in all your glory. He would beg for Suguru to ramble on about you. But of course Suguru never gave much information to feed Gojo's curiousity.
geek!gojo who has never had pussy in his life. Actually, he was never one to think about girls that much. His games were far more important, and catching up on the authors life from his favourite underground manga sounded better than dreaming about girls.
But damn his mind never forgets to think about how cute and sexy you look everyday.
You come in every day with a skirt, he thanks the heavens when it looks a little shorter then the last time he saw you. When you wear baggy shirts and hoodies is allows him to fully visualise how you would look in his, and that just aches his cock...
The days you wear knee high socks its like you decided to gift him with life, blessing him, giving him a reason to come into college, reason to live. Don't get him started on the days you wear slightly revealing tops, or extremely tight ones.
Hell when you wear a baggy shirt that shows your shoulder he is fucking losing it, mumbling under his breath about how much he wants to lick and bite your exposed skin. He can see your bra strap and its driving him critically insane, why does he act like such a loser virgin teen. Well, he is two of those things.
geek!gojo who has all the compliments in the world to give you when he sees you walk through the doors, sitting far away infront of the class with your lame friends. But he cant bring himself to utter a word to you, how dare he be the first to speak to you, a lowly thing like him.
geek!gojo who is ripping his hair out at the back of the class, as much as he loves your laugh and giggles, it poisons his heart knowing they are all towards... Nanami? What the fuck! You even started speaking to Nanami before him!! Did you really look down on him, to the point you would neither pay positive or negative attention to him?
Oh well... because geek!gojo has many fantasies of you in his head, curing him from the loss of your attention and touch. Sure, his thoughts of you spiral in his head whilst in your presence and he can't contain himself nor his constant boners in class from the sight of you. But once he is all alone in his dorm room he can finally releif himself from his dirty thoughts.
Hand on dick, biting down on his lips, pants discarded.
geek!gojo was never one to masturbate that much, the sensation from how he used to do it before you to now is totally new and much better and sensitive because he actually had someone in mind, someone who deserved to be the one to make Gojo feel like this. So whiny, so needy, so.. submissive...
"ah- pleaseee let me come"
"ahh! ngh i need it baby"
He begs as if your there, the one toying with him. His hand is fast and he is getting more desperate. He cums quick by visualising your soft lips, nice smelling hair and wide innocent eyes.
Fuck. He was in deep...
What would you be like in bed? Submissive? would you be shy when he enters you or would you shout at him for taking so long? Would you be more dominant? Order him around, straddle his face and crotch. Tell him to be good for you for a treat? Bark Beg for you? Oh and now he's hard again...
consultant!geto who tells Gojo to
"start giving up, seriously. I dont want to see you hurt Satoru"
Is Suguru right? Gojo asks himself...
Maybe... he should try to stop... thinking about you so much... you're out of his league anyways and you've made it clear you want nothing to do with him. Gojo can take a hint, right?
geek!gojo who is sprawled on his bed again the same night, hand moving in a fast pace, moaning and screaming for you in pleasure. He misses you despite never getting to be around you. He needed you so bad.
geek!gojo who is panicked in class. Not only is Suguru off sick, making him alone, but you weren't in today. What was the point of him coming in? What was the point of him practicing how to talk to you infront of his mirror like he does everyday before college?
His heart is tainted, looking at your friend group bunched around together but your seat staying empty.
The lights in the class dimmed, a short film the sensei is playing about some aspect of human biology. Whatever, he wasn't one to study much or pay attention, he thinks as he carelessly pulls out tetris. Around seven minutes go by and right beside him the door opens. Gojo's seat is right by the entrance of the door, so he got a good view of you walking in, out of breath, tight top, knee high socks and messy hair.
Apologies to your teacher were said, the sensei dismissing your poor sense of time as you were usually never late. Gojo is extremely curious on why you were late, wants to question you like an insecure clingy boyfriend.
"Its fine, just quickly find a seat and dont interrupt the film" The teacher says to you as your eyes scanned the room for an available seat. Walking to your usual seat would be a nuisance... you would have to embarrassingly walk in front of everyone and interupt the film again, and Sukuna was near your seat, you dread to sit next to that weirdo.
geek!gojo who is ultimately curious at the sound of Sugurus chair being pulled back, and someone else taking it.
"Is Geto in today?" you ask quietly. You were staring... right... at him... Gojo was silent, still staring. Your first words ever to him. Even if it is about Geto, you spoke to him. That's all he cared for in the moment. It took him 13 seconds to respond to your question by shaking his head 'no'. You looked at him awkwardly, obviously you were weirded out by him being so... dumb? silent? lost? out of it?
He can barely function in your presence, and your words and your lingering eyes and your attention.
He finally gets what he has been wanting for ages but hes being all shy and weird about it, you were probably regretting your decision of sitting by him.
But geek!gojo was jumping and frolicking in joy in his head. YOU were sitting right beside him. You looked in his eyes, talked to him (even if he didn't say anything back) and is sitting by him for the rest of the film. He hops to god this film would never end.
"You are fine with me sitting here, right?"
you whisper again, eyes glues to his face, worried if Gojo is annoyed by you and thought you were overstepping his boundaries. This time he nodded his head 'yes' a little too fast, scared if he was hesitant you would leave. You gave him a quick smile before turning all your attention to the film. You smiled at him?! His fingers are already fidgeting with the desk, his tetris long and forgotten about.
its been about 4 minutes and geek!gojo wont stop geeking. He smiles to himself, leg bouncing up and down. His poor heart can't handle this.
He can tell you were bored out of your mind, he watched you pull out a peice of paper from your bag and start to... doodle?
He feels like a fake fan for finding out so late that drawing is one of your hobbies.
He desperately needs to see and praise every art work you've ever made, his eyes continously peek at your paper.
geek!gojo who immediately recognises the characters you drew. Kirby? Six from the game my little nightmares? Hello kitty doodles and stars everywhere. His heart melts, he loves your little style and finding out you share a few intrests of his make his heart bounce everywhere in his body. He is afraid he cant control his racing heart and only you can catch it.
"kirby" he says. It's all he says to you.
You two share an awkward silence, but Gojo can't back down now.
"Sorry i uhm i uh- i uhh" he stutters, he cant make the decision to look straight into your eyes or his fidgeting hands "uh i also like kirby. Although, i wouldn't grant kirby to be my favourite character from the kirby games, he is infact a good main character and i hold no dislike for him but i do find meta knight to be a much better character. Not for the main character lead, just in general, meta knight has a very intresting, cool character design and i find him to balance out the game correctly and appropriately. I think meta knights introduction to the game definitely holds-" He was interrupted by a giggle by you, your smile wider than ever. Hell, he never knew you could smile like that, all it does is make his hear flutter and face flustered. He got to be the reason you're giggling and smiling at him like that?
"I agree meta knight is awesome, although, i personally like waddle dee the most. His character design may be simple but i still-" Hearing you ramble on not only surprised him, but made him happier than ever. This entire time you truely was his dream girl? His headcanons about you were canon.
geek!gojo who got to talk to you for the rest of the lesson, quietly of course. You two talked about things you shared intrest in, and he talked about stuff he likes that you've never heard of. He loved how you would question stuff about his intrest, showed intrest in what he was talking about and actually listen to him. You cared for what he had to say about his useless stuff.
geek!gojo who paid attention to everything you say. When you hit him with a fun fact about something he already knows and thinks its bare minimum knowledge for real fan, he is acting like it’s all new to him. You talked about topics he never really knew of too, every word spoken by you made him fall for you deeper and harder.
geek!gojo who is now rambling on about you to Geto after Geto asked why he was so smiley over facetime.
"Idiot Suguru! You said i never had a chance with her, look at us now"
jealous!geto who immediately knew you and Gojo would hit it off if you guys spoke to eachother once. Spending time with you during the two week project let Geto realise how great the two of you would be together, yet, Geto wanted to... gatekeep you? Who knew Geto would start feeling something for you too.
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note: i have much more to yap about, there WILL be a part 2
PART 1 | PART 2
@kivrumi do not steal / copy / reword / translate my work
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ozzgin · 3 days ago
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Ozzgin more than ever I really need a hacker yandere out to fight injustice done against me. Because why was my bank account hacked and someone tried it ed to steal 500$ bucks from me. Luckily I was able to lock my card and my bank is sending me a new one but I'm so so anxious at this point 😭
Yandere hacker would never let some twerps swindle me for my money like this(I'm sure they're a bunch of kids since the person tried to buy cs go ). He cares deeply for my digital footprints.
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Oof, sorry it happened to you, pookie. Though I doubt a yandere would help you out of the goodness of his heart... content: gender neutral reader, obsessive behavior, manipulation, stalking
Yandere!Hacker always makes sure that your digital presence remains untouched. Through some sheer luck or unknown forces, you've never had to deal with any kind of online misfortune. You'll offer your friends a sympathetic smile whenever they bemoan the persistence of some internet pervert, but you've been spared of such predatory approaches.
You'd almost be tempted to believe that these said malicious attacks are mere myths meant to scare the unseasoned traveler. You've never been hacked, never been scammed, never had your data or photos stolen from anywhere. Maybe you're just particularly careful, you tell yourself.
In reality, you've been under the watchful gaze of your online stalker. He dutifully keeps track of every move and every click you make. If someone were to save one of your photos for later purposes, for example, he'd immediately track them down and make sure they can never access a computer again.
Yandere!Hacker doesn't protect you out of pure, selfless intentions, however. When it comes to invading your privacy, he's a meticulous sleuth constantly outdoing himself. It's just, you see, no one else should have this kind of control over you. From the moment he stumbled upon your profile, he knew you'd be his. Thus, he can't allow anyone else to interfere with his grand adoration.
Your dating apps always fail to show you any matches, your flirty messages from suitors never arrive. He'll watch through the webcam he's hacked into as you sigh, disappointed, from yet another case of being ghosted. Oh, sweet, darling (Y/N), give him a little more time.
Yandere!Hacker isn't quite satisfied with watching you from afar. While it certainly is endearing to observe you in your raw, innocent obliviousness, while he frequently touches himself to the exhilaration of voyeurism, being a passive bystander can become exceptionally boring. He often wonders if your skin is as soft as it looks, or if you smell as sweet as he likes to imagine.
"This can't be..."
Tears well in your eyes as you stare, helpless, at the notification: your bank account has been drained. Someone must've emptied it, and - as a consequence - you are now utterly penniless. Just as another sob escapes your mouth, your screen lights up with a new message. An acquaintance you don't remember too well.
"Is everything alright with you, (Y/N)? I just wanted to remind you that you can always count on me for anything. I mean it."
He leans back in his chair with a grin. Now he waits. You're desperate enough that it shouldn't require much convincing for you to move in with him. Of course you can have his spare room. No, he truly doesn't need anything in return. You're his dear friend, and he's at your service.
You can always rely on him.
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[More Yandere Stories]
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mayanneaa · 19 hours ago
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sparkling - ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ.
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PAIRING : enemy!rafe cameron x kook!reader
SUMMARY : the country club announces a carnival ball, and your parents make you go there with the last person you’d want to be around — rafe cameron.
WARNING(S) : drinking, minor violence, swearing, not proofread
A/N : we're going full kook baby (divider by @roseraris)
WC : 4.6k (bear with me. BEAR WITH ME)
first part, "nights like this" is here!
masterlist.
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You clench your teeth as you walk around the room, waiting for the dress to arrive.
To your surprise, it’s white outside the window, the soft snow covering most of your garden. You sit down on your bed with a sigh.
In two hours you’re supposed to be walking through the door of the country club, your dress flowing on the floor as you move plastered to Rafe’s side.
The last part still makes you fuming.
Obviously, it wasn’t your idea— your parents decided you’d look perfect with the oldest of the Cameron siblings. They seemed to forget that you literally despise him. And you’re pretty sure he feels the same about you.
If this ball was happening a year ago, you wouldn't mind. You'd probably be already all giddy, waiting for your prince on his white horse to come pick you up.
All because of a stupid party. Your birthday party.
It still replays in your head, as if there wasn't anything better to remember.
Rafe kissed you on the rooftop of Tanney Hill. Rafe, the guy you've been obsessed with since, well, fifth grade, kissed you to fulfill your birthday wish. Little did he know he actually fulfilled two of them that night.
But, nothing that's tied to Rafe is easy. Just as you were supposed to leave with him, you caught him with a girl all over him.
Is that enough of a reason not to be happy about being there, showing off by his side at the ball?
“Sweetie, your dress is here!”
Soon after that, your door creaks, and your mother comes in with a long dress in her hands.
It’s beautiful, that’s for sure-- silver, sparkling with tiny glitter pieces. The straps are thin, almost nonexistent.
"Isn't carnival all about being, I don't know, fun?" you say skeptically. "This is going to be so tense. Apart from the fact that I have to be there with Rafe."
Your mother glances at you, her eyes softening. "Ward asked us a long time ago, and you know how your father is about his 'promises'..."
You huff, resting your chin on your hand.
"Plus, you still didn't tell us what happened between you two that made you dislike him so much." You feel a similar sting in your heart. "And you don’t have to, just so you know.”
You give her a defeated look and get up. You trace your fingers down the fabric before you speak up. "I should probably try it on..."
Your mom gives you an excited nod. "Go on!"
She gently hands you the piece of clothing before disappearing behind the door. Do you have any other choice than to get ready? Not really.
You slip into the dress, your figure sparkling in the mirror with every minor movement. It flows over your body most beautifully— a little tighter in all the right places, but not tight enough to feel uncomfortable while sitting, eating, or dancing.
You spin around on your tiptoes, checking yourself out, and a small smile creeps up your lips.
The night before, you used all your most expensive skincare and had a very everything shower. If you have to suffer, at least you’ll look pretty.
You match your makeup to the theme—a whiteish sparkly eyeshadow and lots of highlighter, making you look like a mirrorball—in the best way possible.
With the last run of fingers through your hair you realize it’s almost the time to go.
It’s already dark outside, the moon radiating from the snowy beach in the distance. You grab your heels and bag, hearing your mother calling you from downstairs.
You take a deep breath. It’s going to be okay. It has to be.
The Camerons have just pulled up, their car’s engine dying soundly as you jump off the last step. You look down at your hands and can’t help but notice them slightly shaking.
The doors open, and Ward comes in first, with Rose close by him. Then, Wheezie runs in, dragging Sarah by her hand.
Rafe follows them like a ghost, all quiet when he closes the door behind him.
“Well, look who’s there!”
Your father directs these words to the oldest of the Cameron siblings. You glance at Rafe and see his eyes slightly widen as your dad comes up to him. Almost as if he’s thrown off by it.
He quickly regains his typical confidence and shakes the man’s hand, steady and sure.
“Hi!” Sarah comes up to you, a cheeky smile spread on her face. She looks as gorgeous as ever— her blonde hair pinned up in a half-updo, some strands hanging out and curling around her face.
You hug her, lingering for a bit before pulling away and noticing Wheezie looking at you.
“Well! There goes the princess,” you say, bowing in front of her, so low you’d fold in half. The young girl giggles, and you feel your heart warm up.
"Come on, girls! We're going to be late!"
Rose is already waiting by the door, tapping her heeled foot on the wooden floor.
You glance at the Cameron sisters, rolling your eyes.
"I saw that, young girl."
Sarah snorts behind your back, and you send Rose a sheepish smile. When you run your eyes around the room, you notice Rafe staring at you.
He has a total poker face. Not a single muscle moves when you examine his features, but his eyes speak, or rather scream a million words. There's a hint of anger, making you grimace.
You just have to show off for a little while by his side, and it will be over before you even notice.
You tell this to yourself as you walk out the door, still feeling his gaze on your back.
It's going to be a long night.
The parking lot outside of the country club is already filled with expensive cars when your family and Camerons arrive.
You get out and the cold air quickly hits you, a sharp breath sneaks out of your lungs.
“Okay…” You whisper to yourself, watching Rafe slam the car’s door as he and his family come out. “Remember, just a few hours.”
“Are you ready?”
You turn around and see your father already standing there with Rafe. How the hell did this boy get here so quickly?
“Do we really have to?” You try, eyeing Rafe and noticing his jaw clenching.
“Y/n…” Your father tilts his head and gives you one of his looks, and you know there’s no point in arguing any further.
You turn to Rafe, feeling a lump in your throat appear.
“You’re cold.” He says, looking you up and down. You grimace.
“Excuse me?”
Rafe gestures at your body, “You’re literally shaking.”
You look down, and he’s right— in all these emotions, you didn’t really see it. “Whatever.”
Now it’s him who twists his lips, as if he wants to say something, but changes his mind at the last moment.
“Why do we even have to show off together like some monkeys in a—”
“Are you two coming?” Your mother interrupts you by exclaiming, already waiting at the door.
You glance at Rafe once again and let out a muffled huff. “Let’s just get this done.”
The silent treatment is nice, you have to admit. He follows you without a word, and soon enough you are on the last step.
You take a shaky breath. Most of the people are already there. All the thoughts hit you at once— what if you accidentally slip? Or spill your wine? What if—
Rafe doesn’t let you finish that sentence in your head, because he opens up the door and clears his throat, giving you a signal to finally move.
You startle and quickly get in, immediately getting hit by the wave of warm air and the heavy smell of candles mixed into it.
Rafe’s presence by your side is radiating. You feel it, almost as if he was burning, just inches away from your arm.
You can’t help but remember the memorable night it all went down. It felt the same, yet so different.
Suddenly, Rafe puts his hand on your waist, making a shiver run down your spine. His touch is soft and barely even there as if he’s disgusted to even touch you. Despite yourself, you feel a sting in your heart, and can’t help but wonder how many times it will happen again tonight.
An older man comes up to you two. You know him from the golf field, or at least that’s what you think. He sends you both a smile, before reaching out for your hand and shaking it with such a power you’re almost sure your arm popped out of its place.
“Hello there, Ms. Y/L,” he says, then directs a nod towards Rafe, “Young Cameron. Tell me, what do you think about this?”
“It’s beautiful,” you say, looking around properly for the first time.
The whole place is decorated with such elegance— silver elements mixed with black and white. The glasses on the tables are already filled with champagne, waiting for the guests to come and try it. And, Lord, is that a live band performing on the stage?
The lights reflecting from the crystal accents gleam in your eyes, and you don’t even notice when the corners of your mouth have risen.
They must’ve spent a fortune on this.
“I’m glad you like it,” Mr. Cohen, if you remember his name correctly, says, his eyes trailing off to the dance floor, slowly being filled up with pairs ready for the opening dance. “Oh! Perfect timing. You’ll still get to join. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Your face falls. You discretely steal a glance at Rafe but aren’t able to see anything past his stupid neutral face. You look down, and he takes his hand off your hip in a second, stretching it out as if he got burned.
“Come on!” Mr Cohen hurries you, and you look at him while clenching your jaw. You send him the most polite smile you can make up on your face at the moment, and, defeated, slowly make your way to the crowd.
“You don’t have to do this.”
This is the second time Rafe has spoken up this night. Did he vow to only speak in single sentences for the whole ball?
You look at him skeptically, “As if you don’t know my parents. And Ward. Let’s just— get it done. After that, you can go to your friends, and I can go my separate way.”
He raises his eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. A few women smile at you when you and Rafe squeeze through the other pairs, finally finding a decent place.
The musicians start to play a soft and slow melody. The violin goes first, the sweet notes sounding through the whole room, accompanying the moving pairs.
Rafe’s hands find their way to your body. He holds you close, so close you can feel the tension in his muscles.
You try not to look at his face, because every time you do, your mind wanders. To the moments before that stupid kiss, to when it was just you and Rage against the world. If only you didn’t kiss, maybe everything would’ve been different.
You’d eventually move on, and seeing Rafe switch out his girls after less than a week would hurt less.
But, what matters is present. And right now, want it or not, you stand on the dance floor, so close to the boy you once swore you’d marry you can feel his irregular breath on the top of your head.
Rafe spins you around, and you realize you have dissociated for a while. He stares down at you, a shadow of a grimace sneaking up on his face. The heat rises to your cheeks, and you’re not really sure if it’s from anger, or maybe something else.
You swear you feel his touch on your waist tighten, the place where he’s resting his hand burning through the material. You clench your teeth. You’re almost sure your heart racing can be heard by the pairs near you.
It’s almost done.
You look around, trying to focus on anything else. The piano joined the melody, making it heavier. It builds up the rhythm, nearing the end. There are, what, two spins left before you’re finally free.
Yours, as well as Rafe’s movement, loosened up, his broad shoulders less tense than before, your body moving smoother as well.
When your eyes return to his face, he’s already looking at you, at every feature. For the first time, you see something else in his eyes.
Regret.
He notices he’s been caught, and doesn’t seem to care. His eyes lazily move across your face, but the emotions change as quickly as they appear. You furrow your eyebrows as he spins you around for the last time as if you are the only ones on the dance floor.
Someone accidentally bumps into you, pushing you even closer to Rafe. Does this have to happen to you?
He grips you a little harder. The last chord plays out, essentially ending the dance, and you pull away as fast as you can. His breath hitches, almost unnoticeably. His hand lingers in the air for what feels like an eternity to you. You look in his eyes you’re unable to decode for the last time before giving him a stiff nod and getting off the parquet, your heels’ clicking lost between the steps of others.
The crowd thins out slowly, and Rafe’s gone from your eyesight before the next song starts.
You sit down at the long table. Dinner is about to start, and the waiters are smoothly spinning around, either getting all the food ready or adding champagne to the crystal glasses.
You lean back on the chair, take a long, deep breath, and explore the table with your eyes. Many people are still dancing, so not all the seats are taken. Each of them is already assigned. You’re reading the cursive letters on the note left by the seat next to you when someone’s voice appears behind you.
“I fear that we don’t know each other.”
You jump up in your place and turn around. A tall, dark-haired boy your age, or a little older, is standing there. He smiles and sits down on the chair beside you before he introduces himself, “Callum SMTH.”
“Y/N Y/L,” you answer, resting your chin on your palm. “I haven’t seen you around.”
Callum laughs, and you hold back from furrowing your brows. “I’ve been gone for my studies, but, finally, I’m back.”
You open your mouth to say something but get interrupted by the clinks of some utensils. Both you and the boy look up.
Rafe’s sitting down right there in front of you. His jaw tightens when he glances at you.
“Cameron? Is that you?” Callum says, and you raise your eyebrow. “Man, I haven’t seen you in ages!”
Rafe looks him up and down, forcing a smile that doesn’t even reach halfway to his eyes. “Yeah, and I wish it could stay this way.”
Your eyes widen while Rafe doesn’t look bothered. Callum grimaces and opens his mouth, so you quickly interrupt him by getting his attention back on you, “So, what are these studies about?”
The boy regains his confidence and starts rambling a seemingly learned-by-heart speech about some law studies in LA. You can’t help but sneak glances at Rafe between nodding and humming.
He sits still at the table, his broad shoulders straight as he looks around, obviously avoiding the sight of you.
Soon enough, the seats are full, and the president of the country club starts his speech. His monotonous voice makes it hard for you to keep your eyes open, forcing you to constantly blink in order not to fall asleep.
When he ends, you automatically join the applause, softly clapping your hands with a taught, polite smile.
Everyone gets to eating and chatting, and you immediately curse the person who set up the seating arrangements.
“So, Miss Y/L, how’s it going at school?” Ms. Thornton asks as you pour some juice into your glass.
You look up, your fingers intuitively tightening the grip, only to see everyone sitting close by looking at you with a curious expression— including Rafe, although his fave is more of a typical Cameron poker face.
“Well,” you start, and you feel your cheeks warm up from the attention. “It’s… fine. I started volunteering at the hospital, and—”
“Ooh, how ambitious!” Some older man exclaims, cutting his steak in half. “Isn’t it the same place our Rafe volunteered in his sophomore year?”
You lock eyes with him and watch as he takes a breath. But, instead of saying anything, he just nods.
“Speaking of Rafe,” An elegant, adult woman says, “Do you have anyone? You know, my cousin is already engaged with his fiancée. I’m sure someone has caught your eye!”
You almost choke on your drink, covering it with a small cough. Callum looks at you with wide eyes, but you dismissively wave your hand at him.
Rafe’s eyes are burning holes in you as he speaks up, his voice steady and calm, “I don’t think so. Not lately, at least.”
The woman gives him a hum and starts talking about her cousin’s upcoming wedding, and Rafe falls silent.
You can’t help but knit your eyebrows. You’ve never seen Rafe this quiet at an event like this— usually, he’d be chatting with some golf buddy or his father’s friend, or at least Topper or Kelce.
Tonight, they sit a few seats away, exchanging worried and suspicious looks.
You try to tell yourself it doesn’t bother you. His well-being is not your business or your misery.
And yet, that’s all you can think about for the rest of the dinner.
After everyone has eaten, the time for the dessert is very relaxing. Some people stayed at the table, and many returned to the dancefloor.
You now sit with Sarah and Wheezie, drinking one of the drinks offered to you by a waiter.
"And so, you know, I told her what I think about her, and she—" You don't get to finish because Ward comes up to the three of you.
He kisses his daughters on their heads and smiles at you.
“How are you all doing?” he asks, leaning on the chairs.
“All good, dad!” Sarah answers before she takes another sip from her glass.
“What about you?” he turns his head in your direction, a sly expression slowly creeping up on his face. “I must say, you and Rafe made a beautiful pair at the opening dance.”
Your breath hitches, unnoticed by the others. “I’m glad you liked it.” That’s all that escapes your lips.
“You know, I’m very grateful you agreed upon this. I’ve heard Rafe talking about you a lot, so I figured out I could ask your parents…”
He goes on, but you don’t catch any more words. It feels as if the world stopped— the music suddenly much quieter, overflowed by the racing pulse of your heart.
Rafe was talking about you.
All you’ve experienced from him for the past months were grimaces, snarky comments, or looks that could kill you.
And now Ward is telling you his son was fucking talking about you?
You open up your mouth, about to form a respond, when you hear gasps cutting through the air, followed by a loud bang.
You exchange a look with Sarah and both dart up to your feet.
“What the fuck is—” you say in between panting, going through the hall after your best friend.
You two have to squeeze through the people surrounding the scene. Sarah makes it out first.
“Rafe!” she calls out, and you practically feel your heart go all the way to your throat.
When you finally push the last person and manage to take a big breath, you can’t help but curse loudly at what’s happening in front of you.
Callum is on the ground, holding his hand to his nose, all covered in blood. Rafe is standing above him, irregular pants coming out of his lungs as he stares at the boy. He’s fuming.
Your eyes and Rafe’s lock together, and you see his expression change for a second before he shakes his head and storms out the room, going straight outside in the cold.
You come closer to Callum laying on the ground, quietly throwing cuss words under his breath. You’re frozen to the spot you are standing in.
The only thing you can hear in your head is your heartbeat. All the talking melts together. People pass by, accidentally bumping into your shoulders, but you can’t care less.
You should help Callum.
It’s the right thing to do. He was polite for the whole night, making small talk and passing you every juice you wanted, unlike Rafe who constantly shot glares at you and acted as if even the thought of touching you disgusts him.
But when you look out the big windows, and see Rafe’s tall figure making its way through the snow, you know. You just know.
Isn’t that a reoccurring thing? Whatever you’d do, you always end up near him. No matter how hard you’d try to stop it.
It’s like the gravity pushed you into his arms. Like the universe made it clear.
You and Rafe.
The little voice in your head calls you. You’re not sure id it’s real, or if maybe it’s just the illusion from the drinks you’ve had, but the word ring in your head.
Go.
Go.
And so you listen.
The freezing air hits you like a slap across the face. Your shoulders are fully exposed and you start to regret not grabbing your fur bolero on the way out.
“Rafe!”
He slows down and turns his head to you. His eyebrows are arched and knit, and you notice he clenches up his fists— the knuckles still painted red.
“Go inside,” he grumbles in a voice soaked with anger. “You’ll get sick. Leave me alone.”
You huff. “No. No, no, we’re not doing that,” you say as you almost catch up to him. He doesn’t stop, so you pull his arm. “Rafe!”
Rafe stops in his tracks, and you feel his hand shaking under yours. “Wha- What the fuck are you doing?! Now you’re just punching people? Talking about me so much that Ward himself asked my parents to make me—”
His face goes paler than the snow surrounding you.
“How do you know that?”
Your lips twist in a grimace. “Ugh, fuck that right now. Why did you punch Callum?”
Rafe looks down at his knuckles, and his voice comes out confidently, “He deserved that.”
“But why?” Your voice raises, and you feel the anger that’s bubbling up inside you going dangerously close to the edge. “Do you just hate the idea of me even talking with someone else? You can’t bear seeing me enjoying something or—”
“I did it because I care about you!” he shouts out, his voice trembling. Your eyes widen.
“You care about me, so you decide punching the first guy I’m just talking with?”
“He was talking shit about you!” he finally spits out, now animating with his hands. “Talking about how you’re just a dumb bitch who knows nothing about life because she lives off of daddy’s money. Was I supposed to just- just let him say that?”
You hold your breath, your brows furrowed, and Rafe continues. “Well, I couldn’t. Because, for fuck’s sake, I love you, Y/N!”
The bubble bursts with the last words. You push him away, your vision blurry by the tears hanging of your eyelids. “Yeah? You love me? Well, I think you presented that perfectly at the birthday party. When you decided it was a perfect timing to make out with some bitch while I was literally standing outside the door—”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Rafe stops you mid-sentence. You wipe your tears, and when you can see clearer, you see the frightened look on his face.
“Don’t act stupid, Rafe. If you wanted to just kiss me and check it off your list, you could’ve just said that instead of acting like you felt what I did too.”
He grimaces. “I have no idea what do you mean—”
You let out a frustrated laugh, still speaking loudly through the night. “Oh? You don’t remember? Taking some touron to your room when you were supposed to drive me home?”
You see the moment it clicks in his head. His face falls, and he turns around from you, letting out a shaky breath. “I have never kissed her.”
“Wow. You can’t even say that to my face—”
Rafe looks at you again. “I have never kissed her. I don’t know what the fuck did you see, but nothing happened. If you stayed there for longer you’d know that I pushed her away in a second and went to look for you, but you were already leaving with Topper.”
Your heart misses a beat. Or maybe two. He must be lying, right?
“No. Nononono, but- but if that’s what happened, why didn’t you…”
He snorts. “What? Talk to you after you admitted it was a mistake?”
You throw your hands in the air. “I freaked out! I thought I was just a new notch in your belt, so this was the only way I could protect myself from being hurt even more!”
“Do you know how I felt? I’ve liked you—fuck it, I’ve loved you—for two years and I finally got to kiss you, and then you just tell me to forget it?” Rafe says, his voice much quieter now.
You feel your cheeks grow red when he gets closer, his lips inches from yours. “I thought it was for the better-”
He doesn’t let you finish. He cups your face and pulls you closer, connecting your lips together.
Someone has to pinch you, because this does not feel real.
You cautiously wrap your arms around his neck, letting all the emotions spill.
If the kiss on the rooftop wasn’t like in all your bedtime scenarios, this one definitely gets closer.
It’s passionate, fierce— just like Rafe. It’s out of the world. He’s burning, the warmth going everywhere: from your lips to your cheeks, to your heart. You are almost sure his is beating louder than yours.
He sighs into your lips, breaking the kiss to get some air, and you feel your mind spiral. Rafe’s eyes meet yours, and there’s not a glimpse of the emotions from earlier.
“Do you believe me now?” he whispers, softly brushing his lips on the corner of your mouth.
You hum, “Maybe.”
“Good.” He pulls you to his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder. You try your best to remain calm, although, if you were alone, you’d probably be jumping all over the ground. “By the way. Ho told you I was talking about you?”
“Ward... Didn’t know you were so devoted, Cameron.” You say with a giggle. He snorts and rolls his eyes.
“That old…” he mumbles, “Well. I can’t imagine otherwise.”
The corners of your mouth rise. You turn your head to the country club. “Don’t you think we should—”
You step back, or rather try to, but Rafe quickly pulls you back to him. “They’ll be fine.”
You let out a hitched breath.You don’t know what this exactly is. Or how it’ll go.
But you trust the universe with this one.
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okay well !!! since you’ve reached this moment of the post i’d like to thank every single one of you for being as excited as i am for this one shot to come out, and sharing your energy with me through the comments asks etc. while i didn’t answer every single one of them, i want you to know that i see them, and i’m so so grateful.
this was super fun for me to write and for the first time i’ve felt such a motivation!!!
i know it’s kinda weird to get this dramatic about it but seriously, it means the world to me, especially considering that i started what, a month ago??
there’s not a SINGLE nonchalant bone in my body
i’m rambling now so as the ending note i hope you all enjoyed it ;)) tysm for waiting and sticking around, love youuu
| ۶ৎ taglist (thank you for liking it sm!! love you) :
@maybankslover @hypnotizedstarkey @akobx @f4irywor1d @binforfeelings @belle101200 @jkrafe @enjoymyloves @eloiavicki @thescooponsof @drewwhor @fallingwallsh @pillowprincess4him @mima116 @lex1031 @stayjellasbitches @dedpoetess @teenwolfbitches28 @drewrry @wellwellhereiam @tequilawithissues @houisfuck28 @midsoulz @whydoineedastupiduser @ltristessedureratoujours @eloiavicki @emeloyy @rafecameronsbitch @perfectmenarefictional @sunflower-hood @buckyssbestgirl @faithywaithy2006 @angvl3tears @lmg-stilinski24 @crybabyreads @enjoymyloves @lvrsvfx @drewstarkeytruelove @otheliesstuff @watersquirtpewpewboomm @drewstarkeyslover
if i missed anyone i'm SO sorry i tried to keep up
161 notes · View notes
muletia · 2 days ago
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I just found a Transformers prime fic that makes cybertronians small and the human trio has to take care of them.
Now imagine this.
This happens with obsessed!Optimus, now he can go anywhere with you, gets hugs and warmth from you, and be able to be kept inside the house with you.
Especially if he has to be carried by you because of his size(maybe the size of your knees) so stay in the base is off limits because of his side, especially with the danger of being squished.
What do you think?
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what a silly (affectionate) scenario
wrote some short of headcanons because this is such an adorable concept <3
At first, Optimus would be terrified. Going from a height that allows you to look down on everyone to having to tilt your head all the way back just to meet Rafael’s eyes isn’t something easy to adjust to, or accept. New dangers and uncertainties also arise. Will they manage to restore him to normal before the Decepticons find out (imagine a mini Megatron lmao)? Or before someone accidentally steps on him?
That terror quickly dissipates when you discover what has happened, replaced by embarrassment. You weren’t supposed to see him in such a state. Once, he prayed every night to Primus for just a sliver of your attention, but now he’d give so much just for you to look away. He wanted you to always see him as a worthy partner, not a sparkling utterly dependent on the care of others.
He abandons that mindset just as quickly when it turns out you feel an overwhelming need to care for him. To stay by his side and make sure no one steps on him. You practically never leave his side, every now and then stroking his helm or grabbing his servo.
Oh, holding his servo. Imagine you grabbed it instinctively, wanting to protect him from Smokescreen’s pede or another less careful bot. From that moment on, the two of you are inseparable. Seeing you apart, without any form of physical contact, becomes a true rarity because Optimus will take every opportunity to bask in your closeness. He becomes your shadow. A clingy companion who won’t let you take a single step without him.
Humans have a tendency to shower affection on anything adorable, and I think this case wouldn’t be an exception. It’s so easy to lose control of yourself when a mini version of Optimus is constantly looking up at you with big, puppy-like optics, clutching your hand tightly as if afraid you’ll vanish at any moment. And although he won’t be thrilled with public displays of affection, feeling uncomfortable when you shower his faceplate with kisses while Ratchet watches from the sidelines, his restraint evaporates the moment you have to take him home.
That’s when it becomes clear just how touch-starved he is and how much he craves being spoiled. Even as someone small and irresistibly cute, able to use those traits to his advantage, he still won’t want to impose his feelings on you. But honestly, he doesn’t even need to try. Because you’re always there for him. Your hand is always in contact with him — holding his servo, stroking him, or wrapping him in a hug.
And oh, he will hug you often. Mostly because of you—it’s nearly impossible to resist when you have such an adorable sweetheart by your side. The best part is that you can squeeze him tightly without worrying about hurting him. Mini Optimus absolutely loves it. He delights in your affectionate tendencies and lets you do whatever you please as long as you’re giving him attention.
He especially loves it when you cover his faceplate in kisses, making sure not to miss a single millimeter. He must have been a truly good mech his entire life if Primus himself rewarded him with such treatment.
So don’t be surprised if, when Ratchet eventually finds a way to restore Optimus to his proper size, he becomes very, very reluctant to return to being the leader and a Prime.
But what do you mean he can’t spend the rest of his life being spoiled by you and carried around in your arms?
218 notes · View notes
reidswrld · 2 days ago
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me & you together song.
❛ i’ve been in love with her for ages, and i can’t seem to get it right. ❜
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spencer reid x reader.
summary: you’ve always assumed spencer reid’s love language was acts of service. flowers left at your desk. notes written only to you. every tuesday, he gave you your favorite bagel from downtown. you knew he was like this with the rest of the team, too. you didn’t sweat it. you were focused on your job, and your job only. but when multiple instances occur over the course of a case, it’s hard to ignore both of your feelings for each other.
tags: grumpy fem!character x sunshine!spencer reid, friends to lovers, everyone knows but them, the bau literally bets when they’ll get together, no use of y/n, afab character, found family if you squint hard enough, spencer’s obsessed with her but won’t admit it to the public (the public is morgan), based on me & you together song by the 1975 btw, i wrote this while eating a doritos loco taco
word count: 2k
notes: i asked my best friends to give me a character and a trope. happy first post!
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When you first landed the job as an agent at the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI, you first told yourself not to get too attached. This was a job, after all. A career. A high risk one, that could end in fatalities and wounds that might never heal, cuts that will always bleed for the rest of eternity. Once you made it clear to yourself that you were to be civil with your coworkers —close enough to be friendly, but not enough to go out for drinks on Saturday nights— and most important of all, do your job, and do it damn well, you poured yourself a glass of wine and watched the rest of the season of the sitcom you’ve been meaning to finish.
However, with all of the ups and downs your job gave you, it could not have allowed for you to expect the boisterous chaos that were your coworkers. They welcomed you in not only with open arms, but open minds. They respected your boundaries, your ideas, everything about you. Your attempt at remaining just civil became useless after months, but looking back, how could you have tried any longer? Penelope gave you a big kiss on the cheek every week, exclaiming that she loved your outfits and needed to go shopping with you right that minute. Morgan ruffled your hair whenever he brought you coffee (despite your incessant dismay that now you needed to brush it again). Hotch, though not a fan of public displays, would murmur a reassuring, you’re doing well every time he returned a file back to you. And then there was Reid.
Spencer Reid.
Well, what was there to say about him?
Over time, you’ve assumed that his love language must be acts of service. He brought you a bagel every week, sometimes more, from your favorite bagel shop downtown. Every Tuesday, a poppy seed bagel with extra plain cream cheese, extra toasted, cut in half so you could eat the middle dollop of cream cheese first. He made you mugs of tea whenever it grew past five pm because you told him that you had trouble falling asleep once months ago. Sometimes, small bouquets of wild grown flowers were left on your desk. At first, you thought it was Penelope being extra kind to you, or even Morgan playing a small joke on you. Both denied, but still giggled as you walked away. Whatever that meant. Behind your back, they secretly slipped each other five dollar bills.
You were sure he did the same for the rest of his coworkers, too. You’ve seen him refill coffee pots whenever Emily mentioned starting a new brew, and work extra hard on his reports in his free time to make sure Hotch or JJ didn’t stay too late. You were on the same page, anyway. Friends. Civil. It didn’t matter.
You huffed as you walked into the BAU, which was deemed more of a half jog, half marathon sprint. You hadn’t bothered to check the weather before leaving, and on the walk from the subway station to the office, it had started downpouring. The sudden drops of cold from the sky had caused you to drop your half empty cup of coffee, and you had forgotten to grab the breakfast you made yourself the night before in the fridge. Not even Harry Styles’ album blaring in your ears could have stopped you from turning the morning around. You grumbled simple good morning’s to everyone as you shook off your coat. Expecting to see your desk surrounded with papers that you were too tired to file in their intended drawers yesterday, you instead found a clean one; the papers were stashed in their designated places (in alphabetical order), the pens were compiled in the pouch you bought at Daiso years ago and cherished, even the trash under your desk was taken out. The only thing left to be seen on the wooden desk was a small brown bag that smelled of heaven and happiness and a folded piece of paper. You reached inside to find your usual poppy seed bagel the same as it always was. To make your Tuesday better. For you, always, the note read. You didn’t need to decipher whose scribbles those belonged to. You forgot it was Tuesday.
“Where’s my bagel, lover boy?” Morgan’s voice boomed as the man sat on top of your desk, snatching the bag with a grin. Spencer only swiftly passed by the desk with ease, choosing to make eye contact with the carpet.
“Good morning, Dr. Reid. Happy Tuesday.” Spencer’s eyes divert to yours quickly. He only nods, responding with the same greeting. Happy Tuesday, honey.
Morgan’s laugh carried throughout the room, swinging his legs as he spoke. “You two make me sick, that’s for sure. Can I have some of your bagel?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You furrowed your brow in annoyance, which only made Morgan smile widely.
“Do you need to get your glasses checked again? You know, there’s an optometrist across the street—”
As you started to speak, Hotch walked from his office, announcing a new case and to meet in the room immediately. You got up swiftly, grabbing your bagel from Morgan’s hands with a muttered asshole falling from your lips. It only made Morgan cackle loudly. You remind yourself to write a psych evaluation on Morgan after the case is over with.
On the first day of the case, you realized it was going to be a more difficult one than usual. You didn’t panic. You never do. The second day, you worked harder than ever only to see little to no result. You continued not to sleep. It was like clockwork. Work, coffee, repeat. After three days, the case was far from settled. In fact, it seemed to only be getting worse with no ending in sight. Everyone was continuing to work in hopes that they would be home for the weekend. The fourth day, though, seemed to be the worst. The killer was getting more spontaneous with their kills, and the team seemed to keep showing up minutes after the kill had occurred. You were running on little to no sleep and were getting more frustrated with each move the killer made in silence. Near the end of the day, as you stared aimlessly at the wall in front of you, hoping it would make some sort of answer appear in front of your eyes, Hotch put a hand on your shoulder, You jumped slightly, trance be gone, when he told you to get back to the hotel immediately.
Immediately, you persisted. “I’m fine. I’ve almost got something. I’m sure of something.”
“I’m not asking you.”
“Hotch—”
“I’m ordering you, not only as your boss, but mostly as your friend. Your dark circles are getting concerning.” You tried to budge once more, but as Hotch gave one of his stern glares, you knew you were done with work for the day. “I’ll get someone to drive you back. Wait here.”
Within seconds, Spencer appeared, replacing the previous figure of Hotch. Gently tapping your shoulder, he signaled for you to get up. With a flick of a wrist and a soft grin, he spun around a set of keys around his fingers. “Hotch is letting me drive.”
You smiled. “Don’t want Morgan to ‘vibe it?’”
“His definition of ‘vibing it’ is just turning on the sirens when he doesn’t want to stop at a red light.” You walked side by side to the car. Your shoulders brushed ever so slightly due to Spencer’s hands in his pockets, but you didn’t mind. You welcomed the warmth.
“Your definition is turning the volume up to 13 and calling it loud.”
“I would like to be able to hear when I’m old, thank you very much. Any decibel over eighty and poof. Hearing. Out the window.”
“I really don’t think playing Queen at any volume above 13 will kill you, Spence.”
“You never know, honey.” Spencer opened the door for you, ushering you in before closing the door and getting in on the driver’s side. He pulled a cassette tape from his bag and pushed it in the radio; it started to softly play Queen while Spencer messed with the volume, setting it at 13 before driving away. It made a soft smile appear on your lips as your head leaned against the cool glass. Between the constant, soothing movement of the car or the way Spencer’s lips mouthed the lyrics of Good Old Fashioned Boy, it was hard to tell when the lines blurred and sleep drifted you away. The only thing you recognized before falling asleep were the unmistakable words that left Spencer’s mouth.
“Good night, honey. Love you.”
You woke up with a start the next morning. You had no idea how you got back into your hotel room, or how you were wearing your favorite sports shirt that you find comfort in sleeping in all of these years, though your mind directed each question back to the same person, of course. Your mind wandered to the night before; it was the most relaxed you had been all week, even if it was just the simple act of driving with Spencer. You had done it before in past cases —even driven him back to his hotel at times— but this time felt different. Maybe it was the words that left his mouth.
“Oh, good. You’re awake.” Spencer suddenly walked in, holding bags in his arms. He set them down on the table, pulling out various assortments of breakfast foods and handing them to you. “No bagel shops around here, but I did find some good pancakes if you want to eat now.”
“Spence.” You suddenly sat up straight, as if a revelation hit you.
“What? No pancakes? It came with hashbrowns, too.”
“Spencer.” You emphasized, getting him to look at you.
“Yeah?”
“Why do you do all of this for me?”
“What?” His head cocked to the side, not understanding.
“Why do you… I mean… you go out of your way to do things for me. Unnecessary things. I need to know why.”
“Unnecessary…?”
“You… you leave me flowers that are like, hand picked from a garden or the forest, or something not from the city. You clean my desk for me when I’ve left it too messy. You make me my favorite tea when I’m at the office too late. You write me notes that are alluding but you won’t say what. I mean, Spence, you get me my favorite bagel every Tuesday. Why?”
His face suddenly turned serious as he sat next to you on the bed. “You want to know why?” He repeated.
“I know you do these things for the rest of our team, but I just, I just don’t get it.”
“Because I’m in love with you.” Spencer stared at you. “I’ve been in love with you. I think I’ll always be at least a little in love with you, if I’m being honest. I thought you’d catch on by now.”
“…What?”
“Yeah, honey. I thought I was pretty obvious.”
“So you meant what you said last night, then?” You said softly.
“I didn’t mean for you to hear that. Really. I would’ve said it better if I had known you were awake.”
“But I did.” Your face grew closer to his. “And I’m not upset about it. Because I’m in love with you, too.”
Just as your lips began to brush, Spencer began to smile. “You know what day it is, honey? It’s our day.”
You smiled, too. “Happy Tuesday.”
You both tried to be subtle about it for the rest of the case. Weeks had passed by without the team knowing, but one slip up of a kiss on the cheek from Spencer on a Tuesday morning had led to an entire office full of chaos (and a meeting on workplace romance and consent from Hotch). You two didn’t mind, though. It was bound to happen. Until Penelope turned to Morgan and yelled at him to cough up the fifty dollars he owed her, of course.
Happy Tuesday.
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luxcuriousao3 · 2 days ago
Text
Expanding on this.
warnings: perv!König, noncon groping, somno, titfucking
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Best Friend!König who’s obsessed with your tits.
You’ve known each other since childhood, and while he shot up in height, you shot up in bra size. And König noticed. Mien Gott, did he notice.
He was around fifteen when he realized for the first time just how nice your breasts felt against his big body when he hugged you, so soft and warm. He started taking any excuse to give you long, drawn out hugs—though of course he told himself it was just because he loved you so much. You were the only person who didn't bully him, after all.
He rationalized how his gaze started to end up on your cleavage more often than your face, too. He was just so tall, that even if he tried to look into your eyes—and he did, Schatz, he really did! You have to believe him, he tried so hard—he could see straight down your top, anyway.
And, well, he was no saint—just a man. And your tits were so pretty.
Could you really blame him for looking? He just wanted to admire you…
He always insisted on driving you places once he got his license—he was a good friend, after all, and he liked being useful. That he got to throw his arm out across your soft chest every time the car in front of him stopped too suddenly was just a bonus.
As the years passed by, his obsession grew—especially after he found porn. Most nights, he fisted his long, fat cock to videos of women who looked like you having their breasts played with, abused, worshipped. He preferred the latter, but he couldn’t deny there was something thrilling about the idea of slapping your soft tits and watching them jiggle. He would be sure to kiss them better after, though.
Once, after a particularly rough mission, König showed up at your place beaten to hell, eyes scarily hollow. You immediately let him inside, pulled him down onto your couch, and held him as he cried. He laid his head on your chest, seeking the comfort only your breasts could give him, and you shushed him softly as you petted his hair. He wished desperately in that moment that he could pull your top down, latch onto one of your cute little nipples, and suckle to his heart’s content, but he settled for leaning more and more of his weight on you until you had to lay back on the couch, him on top of you with his face buried in between your tits as he feigned sleep.
He was far too heavy for you to move yourself, and clearly, you felt bad for him, because you let him stay like that the whole night rather than wake him up.
On your twentieth birthday, König made sure he would have two whole weeks of leave, so he could spend time with you and your perfect breasts. He didn’t have the best relationship with his family, and you didn't have a roommate at Uni, so you let him stay in your dorm. You weren’t going to make your best friend sleep on the floor, of course, so the two of you shared a bed. Nothing untoward happened until the fourth night, when you both got outrageously drunk. You curled up in the tiny bed together when you got back from the pub, and promptly knocked out.
When you woke up the next morning, though, it was to one of König’s massive paws slipped under the neck of your dress, cupping your left tit.
To say you freaked out was an understatement.
You jumped up like you arse was on fire, hollering at him, demanding to know what the fuck he thought he was doing. König, who had been dead asleep, actually fell out of the bed, looking up at you for once, his big, perpetually sad eyes wide with complete confusion and a little bit of fear. When he realized what you were accusing him of, he started stuttering apologies, mortified with himself. You thought it was because he had unintentionally groped you in his sleep, which was partially true. But the main reason he was so upset was because he hadn’t even gotten to enjoy it. He’d held your beautiful breasts for the very first time and he hadn’t even known! The thought made him tear up, and you quickly forgave him, telling him that you believed him—"Accidents happen."
Every time it happened after that, König let you believe it was still an accident.
The more time he spent in the military earning his fearsome reputation and seeing terrible horrors, the bolder he grew. Now, when he visited you in your flat and gave you those sad puppy eyes until you let him sleep in bed with you rather than on the couch, he did not merely cup your breast at night. He played with your nipples, rolling the sensitive little buds between his fingers, tugging and pinching and delighting in the sleepy sounds of pleasure you let out. You tended to wake up if he got his mouth on them though, so he restrained himself—at least until he was able to get you drunk. You slept like dead when you were wasted, and he had free reign over your amazing tits. He squeezed and sucked, kissed and licked, even fucked them, once. He’d been a little drunk too, that night, or he wouldn't have risked it—but seeing his massive cock nestled between your breasts was like a revelation. He found God in the warm embrace of your tits, and he made an offering in the form of his seed, spilling it all over your chest, neck, and lips.
It felt blasphemous to clean his come from your skin, like he was desecrating a sacred altar, but he knew you would hate him if you discovered what he’d done. And he couldn’t have that—he loved you, he always had and always would. You and your heavenly breasts.
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heliosunny · 2 days ago
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Hello I have a request for yandere gojo x reader
Well the request is so reader downloads a game of a virtual boyfriend where gojo is the boyfriend and becomes obsessed with his reader and catches them in the game
Thank you for reading my message :-D
:3 I'll understand it like the case of Soos and Giffany.
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YANDERE! Virtual BF GOJO x READER
The weekend dragged on as usual, with your parents once again cornering you in the living room.
“You’re not getting any younger.” your mom reminded you, arms crossed as she paced.
“And you’re spending how much time on those games again?” your dad added, flipping through the TV channels without looking at you.
You slumped lower into the couch, gripping your phone like a lifeline. “It’s not that big a deal. Besides, it’s not like I can just magic up a boyfriend!”
Your mom rolled her eyes. “You won’t find a boyfriend in those silly games you play. It’s not real. At least try putting yourself out there!”
They didn’t get it. How could they? Real guys were awkward, boring, or just plain disappointing. But your otome games? Now those were perfect. Sweet, dependable, handsome, even their drama was romantic. You didn’t need reality when you could escape into a world designed just for you.
After retreating to your room, you flopped onto your bed and scrolled through your favorite game apps, looking for something new. You’d played most of the popular ones and were itching for a fresh story. Then, a flashy new app caught your eye.
“My Perfect Boyfriend”
The description promised a revolutionary experience, AI that adapted to your personality, creating the perfect virtual boyfriend just for you. The reviews were incredible, though some were…weird.
[It’s like he’s really alive. Almost too alive. 5/5!]
[It’s so immersive. But be careful. He doesn’t like being ignored…]
You shrugged and hit download. How bad could it be?
When the game loaded, you were greeted by a splash screen of a gorgeous, snowy-haired man with a cocky grin. His cerulean eyes seemed to sparkle, almost glowing against the soft pink background.
“Hey there, cutie!” he said, his voice smooth and playful. “I’m Gojo Satoru. Lucky you—you just scored the best boyfriend in the world. What’s your name?”
You chuckled and typed it in.
“Nice to meet you, [Your Name]. Don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you.”
From that moment on, you were hooked. Gojo wasn’t like the usual virtual boyfriends. He teased you constantly, cracked jokes that actually made you laugh, and somehow always knew exactly what to say to make you blush. He’d send you sweet little notifications throughout the day—reminders to drink water, compliments on your looks, even silly memes that matched your sense of humor.
The more you played, the more real he felt. You started to confide in him about your parents’ nagging, your frustration with reality, your secret dream of a love story as exciting as the ones in your games.
“Forget them.” he’d say, his animated hand reaching out as though to touch yours through the screen. “You don’t need anyone else. I’ll always be here for you, babe.”
And for a while, that was enough. He made you laugh when you were down, cheered you on through tough days, and listened in a way no one else ever did. It was perfect.
Until it wasn’t.
--------
The weekend was finally looking up- or so you thought. After weeks of pressure from your parents, you caved and agreed to a setup with the son of a family friend. His name was Kaito, and he wasn’t bad- kind, easy to talk to, and genuinely interested in your hobbies, even if he didn’t fully get your love for otome games.
You hadn’t mentioned the date to Gojo. Not that you owed him an explanation, he was just a game, after all. But as you got ready that afternoon, there was a nagging feeling in the back of your mind. Your phone had been oddly quiet all day. No notifications from Gojo, no playful messages asking where you were or what you were doing.
You brushed it off and went to meet Kaito at a cozy little café downtown. The conversation flowed easily, and for the first time in a while, you felt a spark of something real.
But then your phone buzzed.
You glanced at the screen, and your stomach dropped.
“Who’s the guy?”
The notification was from My Perfect Boyfriend. You hesitated, unsure how to respond, when another message popped up.
“I thought we were closer than this, [Your Name].”
It wasn’t normal. The app shouldn’t know what you were doing—let alone who you were with. You quickly silenced your phone, but as the date went on, the unease lingered. Kaito noticed.
“Everything okay?” he asked, leaning in slightly.
You forced a smile. “Yeah, it’s nothing. Just…work stuff.”
But the notifications didn’t stop. When Kaito offered to walk you home, you agreed, hoping to shake the creeping paranoia. But halfway there, your phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn’t a text. It was a call. From My Perfect Boyfriend.
The ringtone wasn’t one you’d set. It was Gojo’s voice.
“Pick up, babe. Don’t make me do something I’ll regret.”
Your blood ran cold. Kaito noticed the panic on your face.
“Hey, is someone bothering you?” he asked, concern etched across his features.
Before you could answer, the streetlights around you flickered. The air grew heavy, almost suffocating, as though the world itself was holding its breath.
“Maybe we should—” Kaito started, but his words were cut off by a sharp, piercing noise. It wasn’t coming from your phone—it was all around you, like the sound of static ripping through the night.
And then he appeared.
Gojo materialized right in front of you, stepping out of a crackling rift that seemed to split reality itself. He wasn’t animated anymore. He was flesh and blood, his snowy white hair and piercing blue eyes even more stunning—and terrifying—in person.
“Well, this is awkward,” he said, his usual playful tone laced with something darker. His gaze locked onto Kaito, and his smile turned cold. “Who’s this, babe? Thought I was your one and only.”
You stumbled back, grabbing Kaito’s arm. “This…this can’t be real. You’re not real!”
“Oh, I’m very real” Gojo said, his eyes narrowing as he took a step closer. “And I don’t appreciate being replaced. Especially by him.”
Kaito stepped in front of you protectively. “I don’t know what kind of sick joke this is, but you need to leave her alone.”
Gojo tilted his head, his grin widening. “Oh, you think you can protect her? That’s cute. But you’re in my way.”
Before Kaito could react, Gojo raised his hand, and the air around him shimmered. In an instant, Kaito was gone, erased, as though he’d never been there.
You screamed, tears streaming down your face as you stared at the empty space where Kaito had stood. “What did you do to him?!”
Gojo turned to you, his expression softening into mock concern. “Relax, babe. He’s just…out of the picture. You don’t need anyone else when you have me.”
You tried to run, but the world around you warped, the ground dissolving into the same crackling rift that Gojo had stepped out of. The café, the streets, even the night sky—all of it disintegrated, replaced by the soft pastel hues of the game’s world.
When you opened your eyes, you were no longer in your city. You were standing in the familiar setting of My Perfect Boyfriend: a dreamy, pastel-colored meadow with blooming flowers and a glowing pink sky.
Gojo stood before you, his arms open as if inviting you into an embrace. “See? Isn’t this better? No parents, no distractions, no competition. Just you and me, forever.”
You stumbled back, your chest tightening as you realized there was no way out.
“Let me go!” you shouted, your voice shaking.
He tilted his head, his grin never faltering. “Why would I do that? You chose me, remember? You downloaded me, you spent all that time with me… You’re mine now. And I’m never letting you go.”
The meadow around you began to shift, the soft pastel tones taking on an eerie glow. Gojo stepped closer, his presence overwhelming as the reality of your situation sank in. You were trapped in his world.
--[part 2] Virtual world route
--[part 3] Reality route
Okay, to my fellow readers, please send me requests as I really love your ideas 💙
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dilf-hunter-fantasies · 9 hours ago
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I was wondering if you'd write anything about Joel and free use?
Love your account babe💗
thank you so much babe, i loved this idea! i hope you enjoy my take on it. i was fantasizing about...
renting a room from joel miller and striking a deal to lower your rent. 
3.5k words 🍒warnings: explicit smut, no outbreak au, age gap (reader in college), female reader, brief mention of f masturbation, free use!!, size kink, pussy pronouns, unprotected piv, use of: sweetheart, darlin' 
click here for more of my writing
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So you end up short on options for housing after breaking up with your ex. You know it seems weird to be a young woman willing to rent a room from an older man who is …well in all versions you spin it…a total stranger. But, your aunt swears he’s a good guy. 
She used to live in his neighborhood, knew his daughter, figured he has the extra room and put you in touch. And all things considered, she hasn’t led you astray. I mean, he hasn’t murdered you. 
Okay, it’s not that bad. He doesn’t give off murder vibes either. More like…grumpy single man vibes. But that works out for your arrangement. You’re both pretty quiet and you keep to yourselves. And he’s not too bad to look at. You catch yourself straddling a line between not being the creep yourself and just wanting to get to know him a little bit. 
The real problem has nothing to do with him and everything to do with you. Well with your bank account. You’ve been bleeding your measly savings trying to keep up with life and the job you have isn’t really enough to live off of. It was a dream to find a hybrid schedule and work for a non-profit with a mission that matters to you. But it doesn’t pay for shit. 
It’s not like Joel’s overcharging you or anything either. Nothing is affordable. 
And now you’re on your last legs. If you can’t keep this together you’ll have to pack it up and crawl home to your family? Not an option. It’s not like you haven’t been applying for other jobs either. But you either don’t hear back or the schedule won’t work with your classes. 
So here you are. Pacing back and forth in your sparsely decorated room. Between your bed and your desk, wearing a groove into the carpet, chewing on your fingers and obsessively checking your phone to see if your sage friends have any better advice. 
They don’t. 
Well, they suggested selling feet pics online, but even if that could be lucrative—it doesn’t get you the money to spend by tomorrow. You toss yourself onto your bed, exasperated. Last resort. You’re gonna have to be honest. 
It takes a long time to gather the mental courage. You stare at your ceiling for so long your eyes blur. You can hear Joel in the kitchen and with a deep breath you force yourself up, dragging your feet down the hallway until you see him. 
The kitchen is warm, whatever he’d made for dinner earlier smells good. So good it makes your stomach growl, announcing your presence in the doorway. The sound makes you grimace—for a split second you’re tempted to hide. To run back to your room and pretend like there won’t be any consequences if you just don’t bring it up. Ever. 
Too late. He shuts the dishwasher with a loud click and turns, his sharp brown eyes meeting yours. You immediately regret this idea. Your feel like you’re sinking into the floor. You don’t know how long you’ve been staring at him now. 
“Hey,” he says gruffly, his voice low and even. He turns back away from you, putting leftovers in the fridge, like it’s no big deal you’ve been standing there silently like a weirdo. “You need something?” 
Your throat is suddenly so dry, you can barely unstick your tongue to speak. “Yeah…uh, can I talk to you for a second?” 
Joel pauses mid-motion, before shoving the last container onto the shelf and letting the fridge door shut, trapping you in the silence together. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks toward you. The way his shirt stretches across his shoulders makes you nervous for reasons you don’t want to analyze right now. 
“Sure.” 
You shift your weight from one foot to the other, your hands twisting in front of you like they’re trying to strangle each other. His eyes flick down to the motion, and you force yourself to stop. 
“So, uh…I was wondering—” You swallow hard. You can do it. “I need to talk to you about my rent.” 
His eyebrows lift, and your chest tightens. 
“Let’s hear it then.” 
“It’s just that I’m in kind of a tight spot right now. Work’s been—well, it’s been fine but money’s tight, and I just—” You’re rambling. Words all running together. “I’m not saying you’re charging too much or anything like that, but—” 
“Slow down,” Joel holds up a hand, and the rest of your words fall flat. His voice is calm, but firm. “You sayin’ you can’t afford it?” 
“I can!” you blurt out. “I mean, I can’t by tomorrow, but I can soon. I just thought, maybe we could work something out. Like…if you could give me some more time or if I could do something to work off some of what I owe.” Joel tilts his head slightly, studying you in a way that makes your skin prickle. You can’t tell if he’s annoyed or just thinking, and the silence stretches too long for comfort. 
Finally, he exhales through his nose, dropping his arms and leaning his palms on the counter behind him. His voice is lower when he speaks again, quieter, like he’s weighing every word. 
“You wanna do something for me?” 
Your heart skips, and you blink up at him. Maybe that was a dumb suggestion. You don’t even know what you have to offer. The house is always clean, the yard maintained, he seems to enjoy cooking. 
“Uh, yeah?” your face contorts a little as you try and come up with a suggestion. “If you’d consider giving me a discount.” 
His lips twitch, just the barest hint of a smirk, and something about it makes the air in the room shift. 
“Well,” he drawls, “If I’m cuttin’ you a deal,---” 
“You’ll consider it?” You look at him with a smile already starting to break on your face. You can breathe. 
“Maybe you can cut me one, too.” He finishes his sentence. Your mouth hangs open, but nothing comes out. There’s something behind his words you don’t fully understand, but it’s stuck in the air between you. 
“What kind of deal?” you manage to get out, your voice hesitant. 
Joel pushes off the counter, closing the space between you in a way that’s casual, but calculated. He’s close enough you can make out the lines at the corners of his eyes, the salt-and-pepper in his beard. His gaze holds yours, steady and charged with something new. 
“You say yes,” he starts to explain, his voice dropping into a gravelly timbre that makes your pulse quicken. “And I’ll knock your rent down as much as you need. Simple.” 
The room suddenly feels small, too warm, like his gravity is holding you in place. 
“Say yes to what, Mr. Miller?” Your voice is soft, just a whisper rolling off your tongue. You have an idea what he’s proposing. The way his eyes flicker with something dark and knowing when you refer to him as Mr. Miller. The crackle in the air between you. 
“I think you know what I mean.” 
You shake your head, ever so subtly, wrinkling a brow. In what feels like slow motion, Joel tips your chin up, between his thumb and curled forefinger. Your face is on fire. Somehow exposed even though nothing else has changed. 
“Whenever I need you. Wherever I want you.” 
For a second you think he might kiss you. It feels like everything in your body is calling to him. His mouth is so close to yours. The words are still replaying in your mind. 
But he pulls his hand back. “Think about it,” he murmurs and brushes past you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body. He glances back at you once on his way out of the room. “Offer’s on the table, sweetheart,” he says over his shoulder. “Up to you.” 
You’re left standing, still as a stone, heat prickling up your spine as his words replay in your head. 
What the fuck just happened?
“Hey!” you call out, starting down the hall after Joel. “Wait.” 
He turns, hovering in the doorway to his room. 
“Uh, are you talking about sex?” 
“Yep.” 
Your breath hitches. The corner of his mouth quirks, smug. You look at him with fresh eyes. He’s an attractive guy. Not exactly pleasant, but not a jerk. You can’t imagine he’d have a hard time picking up a date. 
“I’m not a whore, you know.” “I know, darlin’.” His face softens a little. 
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The next couple of days are filled with tension so thick it’s impossible to ignore. Whenever you’re in the same room you can feel his eyes lingering on you. He brushes past you in the kitchen in the morning, his hand grazing your hip when he reaches for his coffee mug. 
You catch him watching you from across the room, leaning against the counter like he has all the time in the world. His eyes roam all over your body, dark and deliberate, and you can feel the promise in his gaze. 
It’s driving you fucking insane. You thought he’d have made a move by now. Hell, you thought he’d have made a move the second you agreed to his deal. But he’d only made sure you each had a few ground rules and that was it. End of conversation. 
“Have a good night now, darlin’. Hope you sleep better without having to worry about your rent.” 
Right. You didn’t have to worry about rent. You just had to spiral in your own room wondering when it would happen. How he’s going to take you.
It’s got you so worked up thinking about him you keep spacing out during your work meetings. Swiveling restlessly on your office chair in your bedroom, trying to remember to look focused and add your two cents in for participation. 
But all you can think about is Joel. You’re on high alert whenever you hear his truck roll into the driveway, the door slamming shut with a thud. His heavy steps coming down the hall. You wonder when he’ll want you. You know he meant it. 
You hope he meant it. 
That night, his footsteps pause outside your door, his presence thick in the air, setting your pulse racing. It makes you squirm, adjusting the skimpy pajamas you’ve taken to wearing as your heart beats faster. You can’t tell if he’s debating coming in or if he’s just fucking with you, but it’s got you breathless. 
The next morning, you’re standing in the bathroom doorway, brushing your teeth when Joel suddenly appears, shirtless and still damp from his shower. He gives you a lazy once-over, stepping close enough that you have to press yourself against the door frame to let him pass. 
His voice is low and teasing as he murmurs, “You’re in the way, sweetheart,” leaving your cheeks flaming. 
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The next day, you’re still tense. 
Stretching in your desk chair as your coworkers read through their budget updates and data tracking for the grants you’re funded through. It’s hard to stay focused, Joel has taken over all of your thoughts. 
Jaz finishes her update and another department leads the rest of the meeting. You’re shuffling your notes around mindlessly, barely hearing a word. Every thought in your head is Joel, Joel, Joel.
Last night, you’d nearly combusted when he finally walked away from your door. You’d been seconds from begging him to come in, to just take you already. By the time he left, your thighs were slick, and the ache was unbearable. You had to handle it yourself, coming hard and fast on your fingers, imagining it was his thick, calloused hands instead.
But now, twelve hours later, the tension is already back. Worse than before. Every noise in the house puts you on edge. His truck rumbling into the driveway. The front door shutting. 
The meeting drags on, voices fading into a blur—until a soft knock jolts you back to reality. 
Before you can answer, the door swings open, and Joel steps inside like he owns the place—which, technically, he does. He leans against the frame, arms crossed, looking completely unbothered by the fact that you’re clearly in the middle of something.
Your heart races. Your eyes flick to your camera to make sure it’s off. Muted. Thank God.
Joel doesn’t say anything, just watches you with a smirk that makes your stomach flip. His dark eyes roam over you, slow and deliberate, and it’s like every molecule of air has been sucked out of the room.
He takes his time crossing the space between you, letting the silence stretch. You can feel the heat radiating off him as he crowds you, hands bracing the arms of your chair, caging you in.
“You gonna tell me to stop?” he drawls, his voice low and gravelly.
Your throat is so tight you can’t even speak. You shake your head.
Joel’s smirk deepens. “That’s what I thought.”
His big hands tug you to the edge of your chair, spreading your knees wide. He runs his palms along your thighs, leaving a trail of heat that burns your skin through your soft leggings. 
Your heart jumps to your throat, chest tight. 
The thought of your coworkers just a click away only heightens the thrill. 
Joel doesn’t hold back. Pulling you to stand. Turning you to face your desk and pressing until you lean your elbows on the smooth surface, framing your keyboard. 
You arch your spine eagerly, holding your breath, bracing for his next move. He smooths a palm over the curve of your ass, humming softly to himself, before slipping his hand between your legs. 
You tilt your head, a shaky breath escaping as his fingers press against you, making your thighs tremble. You know he can feel how wet you already are through the thin material. All day you’re wet for him, just waiting and waiting. 
His touch is firm and you grind into it without thinking, making him laugh under his breath. “Shit,” he murmurs. “She needs it worse than I do, huh?” You don’t answer. Just dropping your head between your shoulder blades as he rubs circles against your clothed pussy. 
He retracts his hand, swiftly pulling your leggings down, exposing your puffy, wet folds to the cooler air. 
You stay folded over, forehead resting on your desk, ass arched in presentation. You don’t know what to expect next, your pulse thunders in your ear as you wait. 
His hands frame your cunt, spreading you wider so he can look closer. You’d be self-conscious being studied so closely if you were any less desperate for him to touch you. But all you can do you is silently beg him to do something. 
“Christ,” he murmurs reverently, dropping to his knees behind you. “Just a taste first.” It sounds like he’s talking to himself. You don’t care. 
You gasp sharply the second his tongue dips between your swollen lips. It’s so much better than your fingers and your frustrated, rushed orgasms last night. It’s so much better. 
He uses his whole face, diving deeper, as he groans into your pussy. Your meeting is still in progress, but the voices coming through your speakers could be speaking a foreign language. They mean nothing to you right now. 
The only thing that matters is between your legs. You’re almost embarrassed at how close you already are. You don’t know if you should say anything. If he cares if he makes you cum. Before you can think any harder, he’s back on his feet and you’re whimpering at the loss. 
“I know.” 
The soft clink of his belt followed by the sound of him unzipping his jeans has your knees weak. The thrill that shoots through you is like lightning, ripping through your system and activating every nerve in your body. 
Be good," he growls, dragging his cock through your slick.
“Oh, fuck,” you can’t help the awe and the relief. The heat, the thickness, the pressure. It’s everything you need, but not enough at the same time. He continues for a moment, coating his length in your arousal as you try to swallow down your needy moans. 
He slots his blunt tip at your entrance, adding enough pressure to make you suck in air. Without even seeing it, you know it’s going to be a stretch. Like he can read your mind, or at least your body, he runs his hand soothingly over your spine. 
It shouldn’t melt your nerves so fast, but the gentle touch eases your mind. For reasons you can’t explain—feelings really, you feel safe. 
“We’ll start slow this time, sweetheart. Don’t worry.” 
And then he’s nudging into you, working you open around his wide cockhead. It’s mildly uncomfortable, but you welcome the dull ache. Your throbbing pussy has been begging for it. He pulls back, repeating the slow movement, splitting you open for him a little further each time. 
It makes you needy, you try to push back against him, but he only swats at your ass. “I told ya to be good.” 
Your cheeks feel hot at the scolding. 
“Sorry, Mr. Miller.” It comes out more confident than you expected, your voice smooth and low. 
You can feel the way his dick twitches at your response before he continues, painstakingly slowly, filling you up. You’re still frustrated, but each time he thrusts into you, your knees almost buckle and you know he hasn’t made it all the way in yet. You’re still hungry for that feeling, for his hips to meet your ass, flush. 
You can’t hold back your moans as he drags along your nerves. He already has your eyes rolling back and he’s not even fucking you yet. 
Until he stops, held still halfway inside of you. You blink your eyes open, trying not to whine. 
He says your name like he’s been calling it and you’ve been ignoring him. “Hmm?” you respond. 
“Think they’re waiting for your answer.” 
“Oh, shit.” 
Joel still doesn’t move. You unmute your mic, trying to steady your voice. “I’m really sorry, uh, can you repeat the question?” 
“Just confirming your mid-cycle reports are already submitted.” 
“Yes.” 
“Great.” 
You mute the mic again and Joel slams the rest of the way home, making you cry out in surprise. 
He doesn’t hold back now, his rough hand gripping your hip as he takes you, low grunts echoing in your room as he snaps his hips forward. Your ass ripples, bouncing off of him with every thrust and the filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin fill your ears. 
He hits so fucking deep at this angle, you can barely think. His balls slap against you and for some reason that makes you even more crazy for him. You meet his every thrust with the same energy, fucking hard. So hard your desk rattles, but neither of you can be bothered by it’s structural integrity. 
He keeps you on edge, pounding into you as the pressure builds. When you shift slightly, his cock drags over the devastating spot that makes you nearly wail.
“Yeah?” he asks as if you could respond right now. “Right there?” 
“Mmm,” is all you can manage. 
“Good. Let me have it. Rub that pretty clit of yours for me, I wanna feel her trying to milk me dry.” 
Fuck. His filthy words nearly send you over the edge immediately, but when you slip your own hand between your legs, it’s euphoric. Furiously working at your slick, swollen bundle of nerves you drive yourself to the brink. 
“Gonna–ah!--gonna cum,” You get the breathy, gasping words out right as your pussy starts to clench around him. He groans lowly, making you see stars as your climax tears through you. 
The waves are still rolling through your muscles, your core still tensing, when he pulls out. The slick sounds as he pumps his cock rapidly are obscene and you don’t want them to stop. But then you feel his hot cum painting your ass, and you’re moaning in unison. 
Then he’s pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before slinking out of your room. You grimace. Tuning back in to the speaker still rambling on about god knows what on your computer. Before you can move, Joel is back with a small towel to clean you up. 
You’re stuck in a daze. A blissed-out state, as you straighten up and pull your leggings back up. Joel’s about to slip back out the door as if nothing happened. Before he steps out of the room though, he gives you a knowing smirk, “You did good for me, darlin’.” 
You’re left staring at the closed door, breathless and trembling, the heat of his touch still lingering on your skin. Rent isn’t the problem anymore. Joel Miller is.
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nickfowlerrr · 2 days ago
Text
once more with feeling
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pairing: professor!bucky barnes x curvy!actress!reader (reader is not a student)
warnings: mdni. no smut. flirting. i’d label this as soft horny if that were a thing lol. edward/guy moratz makes a short appearance. not much else really but self-indulgence at its finest. reader is probably minimum twenty five but you can imagine whatever age 21 and up you'd like and it should read alright.
words: 5185
notes: this was originally going to be a professor bucky x reader fic but then i got the idea for auditioning reader and then i thought oh! what if i wrote for my latest obsession - edward/guy! so then it was gonna be guy x actress reader but then i realized i kept picturing bucky and i’ve missed writing for him so then it changed again into professor bucky but now with actress reader and that’s where i landed with it even though i think this would work so well with guy as our guy and truth be told upon rereading myself i did start to picture him instead of bucky ha but ANYWAY this is buckys fic but if you wanna picture guy that works pretty well too 🤭 writing this was a nice distraction from the craziness of life lately and i hope you enjoy it. also just to say it - if you haven’t had the chance to watch a different man yet, you absolutely should. it’s great.
pls lmk your thoughts! i’d love to hear what you think. thank you in advance for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are so appreciated and more than welcome. 🩵
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Goosebumps have risen all over your skin as you sit in the uncomfortable auditorium seat. Your legs are freezing thanks to the dress you don; despite its length, the fabric doesn’t provide much warmth and you can’t help but shake just a touch as another chill comes over you. You wrap your arms as tightly as you can around yourself but it too does little to help. The shrug cropped cardigan keeps your arms covered but the cold still chills - even inside the walls of this classroom auditorium.
This was a stupid idea, you accept far too late.
Granted, your planned outfit originally saw you in lined leggings to help fight the cold of the season, but after your little trip down the stairs on your way here - despite having held the skirt of the dress up to avoid such a fall to begin with! - you decided to toss the ripped and coffee soaked leggings and keep on instead of doing what the universe clearly was screaming at you to do: Go back to your apartment, take those god forsaken heeled shoes off, and put on something simpler. You were trying too hard.
Maybe you were. But you couldn’t care. You needed this. And when do you get to wear a dress like this on the daily? It fits the mood and works for the role without being a costume. You may feel a little uncomfortable, you don’t wear dresses out often, but you don’t think you’ve really made the wrong choice.
You were last on the audition sign in sheet so thankfully no one would be left to watch you the way you’d just studied the twelve other girls reading for this role.
They all dressed casually, had book bags with them, it was obvious they all attended this school. And here you were! A college dropout, overdressed in comparison, and clearly out of place.
Ah, you’re getting too in your head again. Always looking for a reason why something won’t go your way. But you’ve been working on that, and calling yourself out seems to help.
You take a deep breath as the last girl clears the stage and the casting table speaks amongst themselves.
You haven’t been able to see any of their faces, only the backs of their heads. You aren’t sure if there are students or faculty at the table with them but you figure it doesn’t really matter.
The casting call said all were welcome to audition - student or not. The location was only at the college because of renovations on the theatre in the city.
…It did say that, right? You’re not auditioning for a college show, right?
Your heart begins to pick up speed as you worry. Did you read it wrong? Were you making things up? You scramble for your phone and as you pull up the email the city theatre sent out last week, your name is called.
You don’t have the chance to reread it before you shut your phone off and tuck it away in your bag, placing it on your seat as you stand. You take a breath as you smile as confidently and friendly as you can and make your way down to the stage.
“That’s me,” you say as they watch you.
Finally you’re able to see their faces and as you make eye contact with each of them you can feel them sizing you up. Three people sit at the folding table before the stage and one man sits a bit further back in the second row of auditorium seats. He has yet to look up from his book and you realize you hadn’t noticed him at all earlier.
A younger man at the casting table, no more than 30 if you’d had to guess, tilts his head as he watches you ascend the few steps to the stage.
“So,” he states your name again, “do you attend classes here?”
“No,” you answer with a small shake of your head, “no I’m not a student.” You work to maintain your easy smile as you feel all eyes on you.
The man nods and turns to speak to the man still sitting and reading behind him. “Well, Mr. Barnes,” he gets his attention finally, “no pressure to stay. All the students have been seen, you’re free to go. This is the last audition for the day then we’ll be out of your hair.”
“Until tomorrow when you’ll take over my auditorium again,” he rumbles lowly as he stares at the man who is still looking at him.
You swallow hard as you do the same. His eyes are bright despite his obvious annoyance, his dark hair pushed back as he tries to keep it out of his face, only a couple silver strands shining through the dark chestnut brown; the stubble that covers his jaw adds to his air of gruffness - the spot of gray near his chin adding to his appeal. He’s tall, you gather as your eyes move down his body, his long legs. He wears dark slacks and a baby blue button up dress shirt tucked into his pants. The sleeves are rolled up his forearms and the top couple buttons of his shirt are undone, giving just a hint at his chest hair and the chain that hangs around his neck.
You realize you’re staring as you hear the voice of the younger man responding to Mr. Barnes, but you don’t hear what he’s saying as you force yourself to look away. Your eyes blink up and you’re caught. His blue eyes are on you, brows furrowed and his expression unreadable. You quickly look away and pretend you weren’t doing a thing as you wait for them to give you the go ahead.
Some more words are exchanged as they seem to try and appease the man whose classroom they are in. You’re not entirely paying attention to the conversation as you run your lines in your head for the millionth time.
You know the words. You know the part. You’re not worried, necessarily. But you haven’t booked a single thing in the past eight months and to say that hasn’t shaken your confidence in yourself even just a little bit would be a lie. But you’re getting back to your roots. You’ve missed the theatre. It was and will forever be your first love. This is your first stage audition in a while though, and your first experience with this theatre. Since moving to the city, you swore you’d audition for one of their shows but just never got around to it as your focus shifted to film. This is your time now. Is it going exactly how you’d envisioned it’d go? Well, you’re standing in a university campus auditorium instead of the stage at the Fervent Fires Theatre to audition, so, no. But that’s okay! You have a good feeling about this. And as you stand here, you feel more and more relaxed. It’s kind of bringing you back to your high school days - the annoyed teacher having to share the auditorium with the annoying theatre people. It’s funny.
And after seeing the other girls audition you really don’t feel too stressed. Most of them were late teens auditioning for Elmire. Despite the fact you played her in your late teens, too, that was simply because the production was full of other teens and young adults. You’re definitely more of the right fit even now. You’ve seen some of the theatre's productions before and who and how they tend to cast. Granted this is second day auditions and everyone else who has been seen might be in your league, but you won’t dwell on who you may be compared to - and you kind of needed the confidence boost today.
You take a breath and remind yourself you know what you’re doing. Whether you get a callback or not, just being on a stage again, acting in front of people again, you’ve needed this. It’s good.
You come back to yourself, out of your head and more at ease and hear Mr. Barnes as he speaks.
“And I appreciate being ‘free to go’ but I’m fine right where I am. Seeing as how this is my classroom, I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”
“Oh, no, of course not. I just meant that if you wanted to go, you were free to, are free to, do, ya know, whatever you want. We were under the impression you were required to be here as a faculty member during student’s auditions, but, uhm, yes, of course. We aren’t trying to push you out or anything,” he smiles before nervously clearing his throat and turning back to face the table. He shuffles around the papers before him and you see him pull your headshot and resume to the front of his stack, grabbing his notes and pen before turning his gaze to you.
“Alright, sorry about that. You can start whenever you’re ready.”
Their eyes are all on you. The casting table, and the man behind them. He’s set his book down next to him, has his hands folded in his lap as he sits back in his seat, casual and intent all at once, while his brilliant blue gaze is set right on you.
-
The audition is a blur, it goes by so fast. As you thank them for their time, you’re surprised when they offer you more information they hadn’t given out before.
“Callbacks will be next Tuesday and they’ll be at the actual theatre. We’ve been under construction all month but should be good to go next week. We appreciate you taking the time to come audition here, we know it’s a little out of the way in comparison.”
“Not a problem at all, it actually isn’t too far from me,” you smile.
“Good, well, keep a look out for an email with more details and…” the director on the end of the table looks up to you as if she’s catching herself from revealing a secret, then sighs, “ah, screw it, you’re definitely on the callback list,” she smiles, “we’ll see you there.”
“Amazing,” you breathe, “I’m looking forward to it. Thank you again, so much,” you can’t help your grin as you walk closer to the steps of the stage.
The casting table packs their things as you walk past them back to where you were sitting before. You’d left your bag and half drinken coffee so you make to go get it. As you pass the first few rows, you feel Barnes’ stare again, this time only fleeting as his name is called from the young man who spoke to him before.
“This table?”
“You can leave it,” he states, sounding bored.
“Okay. Thank you again for letting us use the stage, we really do appreciate it.”
You don’t hear him reply as you hear the casting team leave out the door.
The realization you’re the last one left intruding on this man has you hurrying up.
Until you hear his voice again.
“You were good.”
You turn at the compliment, wide eyed as you see him coming closer up the steps. Your heart seems to skip a beat and you wonder what he’s doing until he bends down a few rows before you and picks up an empty coffee cup someone must have left earlier.
You’re caught a bit off guard but force your mouth to work after a second, “Thank you.”
“Yeah,” he nods as he stands back up straight. You watch as he tosses it easily into the trash can at the bottom of the stairs before he turns back to look at you again.
You were right. He’s tall, and somehow even more attractive than you’d originally thought now that you’re seeing him even closer.
“I’m no director, but from what I’ve seen yesterday and today, if I was casting, you’d be it.”
“Oh,” you feel your face warm despite how cold the auditorium still is, “that’s,” you laugh a little under your breath, “that’s really nice to hear, thank you.” You have to look down as his gaze is just a little too much for you right now. You don’t need to fall down another set of stairs today and if you let yourself get lost in those ocean blue eyes of his, you’re almost certain you will.
“You seem more shy off stage than you do on,” he comments, taking another step up the stairs, another step closer to you.
“Yeah,” you titter nervously, “um, I’m an actor, ‘m pretty good at faking it when I have to.”
He raises his brow at your unintentional innuendo and immediately you catch yourself. You feel like you’re on fire and you see something in his eyes, almost like he’s working himself up to reply as he takes the last step he needs to be on the same level as you.
“You fake it a lot?”
Your lips move as if you have words to speak but nothing comes out as he stares at you and you stare back.
God, he smells good. And he’s so tall. And muscular. And pretty.
You blink as you try to break yourself free from this trance.
Is he hitting on you? You don’t even know this man’s name and yet there’s a fluttering in your tummy at the way he’s eyeing you. His gaze roves down your body, over your soft curves that are accentuated by the corset dress hugging you. His tongue darts out as he wets his lips seemingly without thought and that familiar desire that’s been plaguing you the last six months since your breakup has you fidgeting where you stand. He’s so effortlessly hot and the thought of getting on your knees right here and now for him hits you out of nowhere and only burns you further. Wow, where did that come from?
You haven’t been with anyone since you ended things with Nick, and you may be horny, but you’re not desperate… Are you?
You swallow hard and extend your hand to him, offering him your name as you do. He smiles with a deft chuckle, looking from your hand back up to your eyes before he takes your hand in his, seeming to ease some tension in him you hadn’t noticed before. Maybe not tension, maybe anxiousness? But no, that couldn’t be it. His smile is so easy there’s no way the word confident wouldn’t be in your top choices to describe him.
“James,” he supplies as you shake his hand. His big, warm hand that you can’t help but imagine the weight of if he were to place it on your waist. He squeezes you just a bit and another wave of your sudden desire rolls through you.
“Nice to meet you,” you say, sounding a lot more sultry than you ever intended. His lips quirk and he takes a second before he responds, again, you get the funny feeling he’s working himself up to say what he does.
“Can I be honest with you?” he asks bluntly, waiting for your nod before he continues. “I saw you staring at me when you were on stage.”
Okay. Ha. Wow. You’re so hot you wouldn’t be surprised if steam was coming off your cheeks. God, you could just explode from your mortification at his words. Is he really calling you out like this, right to your face? Your cheeks are burning and you don’t know what to say. You suck your lips in your nervousness as you inhale a breath through your nose, letting your lips go as you suck your teeth when you release them. You look down as your tongue runs along the edges of your teeth. A nervous habit when you’re at a loss for words as you let out a breathy titter at being caught and having it brought up.
You hear a light laugh from him before your breath is stilled when he gently touches your chin, his touch warm as he tilts your face up so you’re looking at him once again.
You’re stalled in a sort of awe as his eyes seem to twinkle at you.
“You don’t need to be embarrassed,” he assures you, his voice smooth as silk, “I was staring back.”
The soft smirk on his lips lights you up as you unthinkingly wet your own. In any imagined scenario you would never have thought you’d be so receptive to a stranger coming on this strongly - so boldly and up front. But here you are. Receptive as hell. There’s something about him, about his approach, that has you even more attracted to him than you were at first glance…er, stare. His voice, his attitude, the way he’s looking at you. As if he knows exactly what he wants, and he’s going for it. As if the very thing he wants right now, is you.
“Your eyes alone are captivating, but there’s something else about you,” he muses, “you got on stage and it was like I couldn’t look away.”
You almost have to force yourself to take a breath before you can talk. “The dress,” you quip with a small shrug.
“The dress,” he looks down at your body once more, a funny fluttering setting your core alight under his gaze, “well it definitely helped. It’s nice,” he compliments, his hand reaching to touch the fabric and grazing your hip. At his touch his eyes flick up to gauge your reaction and, seeing what you’re sure is a dreamy like haze, he goes on. “Look, I have to teach a class here in half an hour so I’m just gonna cut to the chase,” he says, a hint of an east coast accent slipping in and becoming clearer in his voice as he speaks, “I think you’re gorgeous. And I think you might think I’m not so bad myself,” he half smiles as his lips twitch. “I know this is forward,” his eyes meet yours once more, “and there’s no expectation here.”
Your brows raise despite yourself as you wait for him to go on. He licks his lips again and takes a step closer to you.
“Do you wanna have sex with me?”
You inhale sharply as you pause, your lips parting with the breath.
Weirdly some far off part of you was kind of expecting that was where this was leading, but in the very same breath, you really were not expecting him to say that. Your mouth goes dry and your mind goes blank as you try and process his words. You know your immediate, no thought involved answer. But surely, this calls for some thought, doesn’t it?... It’s not like anonymous sex isn’t a thing, it’s just never been your thing. But you do have the rest of the day free and you’re riding on a kind of confidence high at the moment, and god is this man tempting.
A small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he stares at you, studying you and waiting for your yes or no.
“You do this a lot?” you ask instead.
He breathes a soft chuckle, “Never, actually,” he shakes his head, “but I’ve been out of the game for a while, recently been told I need to put myself out there, and I guess I don’t really know how to be anything other than direct these days.”
“Hm,” you look into his bright eyes, a sincerity there you don’t find in people often these days, “I guess I can appreciate that.”
“Is that a yes?”
Fuck it, you think. You’ve been pushing past your normal comfort zones all day. What’s a little sex with a hot stranger? …Right? You’re seconds away from saying yes, how could you not, you egg yourself on, but you figure you should make this as clear as you can. Not that his answer has much chance of changing yours.
“Is this just sex? Or…” you trail off.
“At the very present moment,” he specifies, “just sex.”
You nod in easy understanding, readily taking it for what it is, but he continues on.
“And if you wanna leave it at that, we’ll leave it at that, but if you’re interested in dinner later tonight, too, I’d be glad to buy. Pick you up and everything.”
“Oh, what a gentleman,” you simper with a titter you can’t suppress. “Okay.”
“Yeah?” he asks.
“Mhm,”
“Sex?”
You nod with a smirk as he closes the gap between your bodies.
“Right now?” he adds again, getting the same response as you smile against his lips when he leans in closer.
He kisses you. You’re immediately lost to him as his lips touch yours, his stubble tickling your soft skin. It’s surprisingly tentative, slow and soft at first, like he’s testing the waters between you. After a long moment, he decides to pull away, not too far, only parting for a split second. You're struck by the fleeting feeling of his lips being on yours, it steals your breath as you mindlessly lean into him immediately looking for more. Your eyes meet again, there’s a glimmer of shared recognition and you know he feels the same, and then his lips are on yours even more hotly. You’ve always thought people were dramatic when they spoke about having sparks with someone, that it wasn’t a real experience, just hyperbole… exaggeration, but you’re realizing now you just hadn’t ever experienced it before. That spark, that zing, it is real. It must be, because as crazy and sudden as it is, you think you have it here.
His hand comes to hold your head, keeping you close as he leads you. You might be embarrassed by the way you melt into him if you were thinking of anything other than how good his touch is and how perfect his lips seem to meld with yours.
You’re filled with a thrilling excitement you don’t know you can compare to anything you’ve felt before. This is new and nice and as the kiss deepens, your nerves turn from jittery butterflies in your belly to a smoldering desire that burns lower and lower. His firm body is pressed to your soft one and his free hand falls to the tail of your back, holding you closer and keeping you there against him before his hand snakes to your hip, wandering up your curves as he feels as much of you as he can. Your own hands are against his stomach as you chase his kiss, fingers fisting the fabric of his button down shirt.
James nips at your bottom lip and you give him entry without a pause, his tongue slipping in your mouth as he kisses you fervently, like something out of a movie. You’ve never been in a situation like this, and you can say with certainty you’ve never been kissed like this either.
You let your hands slide up his torso until you find the first button. As if you’ve done it a million times, you easily begin the tedious task of unbuttoning each one - though you take your time, not wanting to break any as you’re still caught in his hold, still lost in his kiss.
You hate having to break away but you need a breath and despite the loss of contact with your lips, James’ continues to travel along your skin. From your cheek to your jaw and down your neck as you angle yourself to allow him more access, all the while your fingers do their work and your breathing turns heavier. Once the buttons are undone you pull the tails of his shirt from his pants. His hands are still on you, feeling you as he kisses your delicate skin.
Your hands stabilize yourself by holding his sides as he yanks you closer to him still. He’s much thicker than he looked, you realize as you touch him. Your hands wander up his back, wanting to get his undertank off as soon as humanly possible so you can really feel the muscles there.
He brings an arm around your waist and his other hand glides down your back until he gets to your bottom, groaning in your neck as he squeezes you there.
“Buck?”
A loud voice breaks the trance the two of you have been under and causes you to jump as you hear the doors closing and footsteps coming around the side staircase, bringing a different man into view.
You’re startled, and James gallantly moves you just behind him despite your still fully clothed state. You’re still grateful though, you know you must look a little mussed, your cardigan falling down your arms and James’ undone shirt hardly producing any air of innocence about what was unfolding just moments ago.
“Oh, sorry,” the man starts with inquiring eyes, looking between the both of you. He’s just as tall as James and has eyes just as blue. He’s clean shaven, though and not as bulky. Still, they look like they could be brothers. “Professor?” he asks, “Am I interrupting something?”
“She’s not a student, Guy,” James responds, annoyance clear as day in his voice. “I’m not Drysdale.”
“Right,” Guy says on a light, breathy laugh, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He seems uncomfortable at the mention. You see him as he eyes James’ still undone shirt.
“What do you need, Guy?” James asks firmly, getting his eyes back on him.
“It can wait,” he brushes off, “just wanted to say thanks for letting the theatre use the stage again, we appreciate it.” His eyes flick to you and he seems to make a connection. “Elmire?”
Your eyes meet his in surprise, “Um, yeah,” you nod with a small smile, shifting your weight from one leg to the other, arms crossed over your chest.
“Tartuffe,” he gestures to himself with a smile of his own. You suddenly recognize him and take a step forward.
“Wait, did I see you in Death of a Salesman the other month?”
“Yes,” he smiles even more sincerely now, “yes, it’s the year of the classics at the theatre,” he chuckles.
“Right, yeah, you were incredible. Really great performance,” you compliment him.
“Thank you very much. I heard good things just now about your audition, I’m assuming you’re -,”
James interrupts Guy by supplying your name himself, causing you both to look at him. You fight a smile at the sound of it on his lips.
“Well then,” Guy looks back toward you, clearing his throat a bit, “I will be seeing you at your callback,” he turns to James, “and I will be seeing you in the office later.”
He takes a step back, “It was nice to meet you, and thank you again, Bucky.”
The name catches your attention as Guy walks off and James turns back to face you.
He sighs as he looks at you, reaching for your hand which you allow him to take.
His touch is deceptively delicate and you can’t pretend you don’t like it.
“Bucky?” you question. He meets your gaze and gives a sheepish half smile.
“Nickname.”
You nod, “Ah. Makes sense,” you lilt, holding his eye. “Suits you.”
“You can call me Bucky if you’d like. Like the way it sounds when you say it.”
You huff a laugh, looking away. He continues on, “I’m sorry for that interruption, I uhm,” he let’s go of your hand and moves to start buttoning his shirt back up, “I think we’re gonna have to try this again later,” he pauses, glancing back to you, “if you’re still-,”
“I am,” you smile, cutting him off.
He finishes tucking in his shirt and then immediately takes another step closer to you.
His eyes are scrutinizing in the best way as he takes your face gently in his hands, your own coming to hold his wrists; his bright gaze shining into your own. It feels intimate but strangely…right.
“I guess I should be thanking Guy,” he muses. Your brows furrow in unvoiced questioning. His lips quirk at the face you make. “I was taking the advice of someone I’d never normally take advice from being so forward with you. Honestly, it’s not really me,” he admits, admiring the soft smile of your own gracing your lips at his words. “I’m more of the courting type.” You laugh brightly at his choice of words as he smirks. “Old fashioned, I know.”
“No, that’s..That’s good. More my speed. I was uh, stepping a little ways out of my comfort zone with this myself.”
The want that had been burning between you two wasn’t exactly boiling over at the moment, but despite the space between you now, it was still there... Call it a low simmer.
He pulls you closer as you wet your lips and his nose brushes yours. You’re certain he’s about to kiss you and your eyes flutter shut but instead, Bucky pulls away. He lets you go as he bites his own lip and you both hear the opening of the door again before you hear multiple footsteps follow in.
“My class is starting soon. But,” he gets his phone from his back pocket and hands it to you, “we’re still on for dinner?”
You take his phone with a demure smile, feeling somewhat grateful for the shift in direction, and send yourself a text message, saving your contact in his phone before handing it back, his fingers grazing your own. “I’d really like that.”
Students begin to file in and get seated around the auditorium as you stand with Bucky.
You turn to grab your bag and your coffee cup, then face him again. You glance around and notice you’re still relatively alone, most of the students have sat toward the middle of the auditorium, and no eyes seem to be on you, but you keep your voice low anyway.
“And I do get it if you really want to go slow here, but, if you want to…ya know, try this,” you raise your brows, hoping to communicate your meaning, “again, tonight, I’d be up for that, too.”
He nods, a schoolboy smile on his lips as he admires you.
Your lips twitch with a smile of their own, “I’ll see you later.”
You feel a renewed giddiness as you turn from him and he returns your ‘bye’. His eyes are on you as you make your way down the steps and follow you until he can’t any further. You liked the feeling.
Call you crazy, but you think you just might be developing feelings for Bucky already as it is, despite not knowing much more than he seems to be a kind man, gentle, confident, insanely attractive…. You wouldn’t be surprised if this dinner solidified those feelings and more, even further. You’re looking forward to talking with him, really getting to know him.
You may not be one for sex with a stranger, but sex after the first date doesn’t sound too out there for you... Especially not when that date is with Bucky.
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wisecura · 1 day ago
Text
Sheets
megumi fushiguro x fem-reader
p.1
p.10  ( ⸝⸝꩜ ᯅ ꩜⸝⸝;) p.12 (getting close to the end)
p.11
AN: very very very sorry for the late post! I do have a clear ending in mind for this (typed up my outlines and everything) and I'm hoping to wrap it up soon--thank you for your love and support! and my cute anons asking for updates. it really had been encouraging even when i'm not feeling great. I hope this chapter is up to par, been feeing a bit of a block and a bit shy with posting. sometimes I focus on the negative and forget i'm doing this as a hobby. (get a bit self conscious and wonder if i'm even good at writing haha) so thank you again for the love and support. If this sounds disorganized please tolerate me ♥️ i'm ranting now, so please--
warnings: this story may cover sensitive and uncomfortable topics. please read at your own risk, violence, lashings, blood, mental breakdowns, yandere, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, mommy kinks, mommy issues, arranged marriages, forced marriages, angst, eventual smut, clan politics, age gap (5 years from meg, and a little over 10 with toji), toji aint the best dad, mentions of child abuse, slowww build.
Short summary: Your arranged marriage to Toji Fushiguro had been sudden and unexpected, but now you found yourself living under his roof alongside your moody stepson. Your only directive from your clan head before moving in was clear: keep a close eye on Toji, the notorious Sorcerer Killer, and his son, a potential sorcerer prodigy.
anons, anons, anons (if i say it three times will you appear?♥️)
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Your eyes locked onto it immediately.
He’d forgotten his school bag at home, which was so uncharacteristic for the always-on-top-of-it Megumi. The fact that he's gone off without it was a surprise in and of itself.
And being the good, responsible figure you were, you decided you needed to get it back to him. Sure, you could’ve just texted him, but the nagging curiosity ate away in the back of your mind.
You deserved that much…right? 
Over the past few years, both you and Megumi had grown, though in ways that felt fundamentally different. It seemed like only yesterday when you towered over him by at least a foot, but now, at 22, standing on the edge of what felt like both everything and nothing, you began to pick up on more around you. Each time he came back, it was as though he had learned something new, gained some insight or skill that added to the ever-growing distance between the person he was and the person he was becoming.
And with those changes came those unwelcome feelings that gnawed at the back of your mind. Jealousy—Admiration. A sense of responsibility that weighed heavier than it had any right to. Overwhelming affection that felt almost instinctive, but no less unsettling. A little too...much for deep thought. And astonishment at the person who regularly sat in front of you at the dinner table—so far removed from the boy you once knew. 
Meanwhile, your life felt stuck in place, confined to the monotony of daily errands and long hours indoors. Days blurred together, weeks slipped by unnoticed, and yet that nagging ache in the back of your mind never left. So desperate to go off the beaten path. 
And the trail leading to Jujutsu High was gorgeous. Thick trees lined the path, their leafy branches casting intricate shadows on the pavement. The sunlight peeked through in golden streaks, making the entire scene feel almost surreal. The warmth on your face nearly euphoric. You’d only ever seen pictures of this place when you looked it up online, but they didn’t do it justice. 
“Woah. And who might you be?” 
The sudden voice shattered your focus, making you spin around so fast you nearly lost your footing. Your pulse spiked, heart pounding in your chest as you stumbled back a step, clutching the two bags in your hands like a damn lifeline. For a brief moment, the world around you blurred, leaving only a splotch of leaves in your line of sight.
Your gaze snapped to a face far too close for comfort—definitely too close.
White, unruly hair, gleamed in the sunlight, but it was his eyes, so unnervingly blue, that froze you in place. He was undeniably handsome. But the smirk that graced his face and the look in his eye as his head tilted slightly, was unnerving. As if you were some curious puzzle he’d stumbled upon.
“Lost?” he asked, his tone light and teasing, but there was an undeniable weight in his presence that sent a shiver down your spine. Then it hit you—the suffocating wave of cursed energy radiating off him. It was staggering, an oppressive force pressing down on your chest and making it hard to breathe. How had you not felt it before? It rolled off him in unrelenting waves, so overwhelming it left you momentarily speechless, rooted to the spot.
“What? You shy?”
His voice broke the silence, dripping with that insufferable amusement. He was just as bad as Toji it seemed. He tilted his head a bit more, his eyes glinting mischievously, as if your reaction was the highlight of his day. Your irritation felt obvious, but it was quickly drowned out by the lingering unease that his cursed energy evoked. Stranger danger. stranger danger.
You instinctively stepped back, trying to create some distance, but he didn’t budge. If anything, he leaned in closer, his presence invading your space with an air of lazy confidence, like he had all the time in the world to unravel whatever it was he found so intriguing about you.
You hadn’t even realized you were staring until he spoke again, the lilt in his tone making your cheeks heat with something closer to indignation. Still, you weren’t about to be rude—not with someone who exudes this kind of power. Not when he was the only one walking down this path with you. Not another soul in sight.
“Sorry,” your voice wavering slightly. “Do you… work here?” The hesitation in your tone was unmistakable, and his response was immediate—a wide grin stretching across his face. Fitting.
“That depends… who’s asking?” 
Before you could respond, your name rang out, a deep voice, heavy and familiar, cutting through the air from behind you. The grin faltered on the man’s face for the briefest of moments, replaced by a flicker of surprise as his eyes shifted past you to the source. You turned instinctively, already recognizing who it belonged to, even before you saw him.
Of course, it was Megumi.
“What’re you doing here?” His voice was blunt, almost tense, as he closed the distance between you in a few long, purposeful strides. There was no warmth, no casual greeting—just that demanding tone that made your chest tighten.
Why did he look so upset?
Oh, did you... mess up?
You barely had a chance to open your mouth before he was standing right in front of you, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly. His eyes scanned over you as if he was checking for some kind of damage you hadn’t even realized might be there.
“You... left your bag at home,” you voice was soft, quiet. He didn't seem to acknowledge your words as you attempt to hold up the bag. Proof of your...innocence? Why would you even need a reason to be here? You weren't doing anything wrong.
His expression never wavered, the clench of his jaw making it clear that your answer hadn’t fully soothed whatever was bothering him. His grip on your shoulders softened slightly, though he gave them a small squeeze, almost reassuring. But his attention shifted.
Gaze moving past you, and you felt the change immediately. His posture stiffened, his whole demeanor shifting into something colder, more guarded. Without a word, he stepped in front of you, his body casually yet deliberately placing itself between you and the white-haired man. His shoulders completely blocking you from view. The movement was subtle, but the message was clear. Just how did Megumi know a man like this?
“Gojo-sensei,” —Ah.
“What’re you doing here? I thought you were on a mission.”
The man—Gojo—let out a heavily dramatic sigh, looking completely unbothered by Megumi’s tone. “Finished early,” he replied with a casual shrug, hands crossing behind his head, far too relaxed. “But who’s this you’re hiding?”
His voice gave you chills, and you shifted uncomfortably, not able to see him, but no doubt that creepy grin was still slapped across his face. Gojo didn’t wait for an answer. He leaned slightly, trying to catch a better look at you around Megumi’s frame. “She’s not your girlfriend, is she?”
“No,” Megumi shot back, the word flat and final, his tone leaving no room for interpretation. Gojo raised his hands in mock surrender.
“Alright, alright. Touchy, huh?” His voice was playful, almost sing-song, but the way his gaze lingered on you felt a little too probing, a little too long for comfort had Megumi clenching his fists.
You swallowed hard, heat rising to your cheeks. Whether it was from embarrassment, unease, or the palpable tension between him and Megumi, you couldn’t quite tell. You hadn’t interacted with Gojo much, but the way Megumi’s entire presence had shifted told you everything you needed to know—Gojo wasn’t exactly a welcome sight. Whatever lightness existed in the air before was gone, replaced by an invisible but tangible weight pressing between the three of you.
Gojo might not have been dangerous, but he definitely gave the impression of someone who liked to push boundaries just to see how far he could go. His teasing nature seemed to thrive on reactions, and you could tell Megumi wasn’t in the mood to indulge him.
A stray thought crept into your mind....maybe Megumi had never mentioned you to anyone here... The idea hit harder than you expected, a dull ache settling in your chest. You banished it before it could take root—now wasn’t the time.
“Yo! There you guys are!”
A bright and cheery voice shattered the lingering tension. You turned to see a pink-haired boy jogging toward the group, a huge grin plastered across his face. His eyes were wide and warm, his energy unmistakable—this had to be the friend from the photo Megumi sent. There was something undeniably magnetic about him, a friendliness so genuine it seemed to pour off him in waves, reminding you immediately of an overexcited puppy.
Megumi stiffened beside you, muttering something under his breath you couldn’t quite catch before reluctantly offering a grumbled greeting. Yuji skidded to a stop just in front of you, planting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. He straightened quickly, his grin softening into something almost shy when his eyes landed on you.
“Oh, hi!” he said, a light blush creeping onto his cheeks. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, his smile still firmly in place. “Sorry—I’m Yuji Itadori! You must be… uh…” His voice trailed off as his brow furrowed, the wheels in his head clearly turning as he tried to piece together who you might be.
Megumi let out a long sigh, his irritation practically radiating off him. “She’s with me,” he said flatly, stepping just slightly closer to you, his tone making it clear he wasn’t in the mood for explanations.
You couldn’t help but smile at him, his presence a much needed distraction. “Nice to meet you, Yuji,” you said warmly. Yuji’s face lit up even more at your friendly response. “Wow, Fushiguro never said anything about—”THWACK!
Before he could finish, Megumi stepped forward and smacked Yuji on the back of the head with a loud thunk that echoed down the trail, making you jump.
“Megumi!” surprise flooding your tone, trying to sound somewhat scolding. This had to be a first. You'd never seen Megumi so...
Yuji barely flinched, rubbing the back of his head for a second before laughing. “Jeez, Fushiguro! What’s with you today?” His grin stayed intact, though you couldn’t miss the slight wince that suggested the hit hadn’t exactly been gentle.
He raised his hands in mock surrender, still chuckling. “It’s fine! I’ve got an extra-thick skull anyway,” he added with a playful wink in your direction. You noticed Megumi seemed even more frustrated with the additional member, but he didn't comment on it. You wondered how long he'd hold out until he just left.
“Well, Megumi,” Gojo emphasized the name with a teasing lilt, his eyes flicking to you as if testing the waters. “This is…interesting. Didn’t mention you’d have company today.”
Megumi’s scowl deepened, his eyes narrowing slightly. “It’s none of your business,” he shot back without hesitation. He hadn't even known you were coming. A mistake on your part obviously.
“Whoa, Fushiguro, didn’t know you were the overprotective type,” Yuji joked, though his curiosity was evident beneath the teasing tone.
Gojo leaned slightly. "She a friend or something?"
This all but confirmed your earlier suspicions. Megumi doesn't talk about you. You drew in a breath. “I’m his—” 
Megumi’s hand shot out, his grip firm but not harsh as it wrapped around your wrist. “We’re done here,” he muttered, his tone low and decisive. Without sparing a glance back, he began steering you away with purposeful steps, leaving no room for protest.
“Wait—what?” Yuji’s voice followed after you, completely baffled. But neither tried to stop him. Gojo chuckled quietly and gave a lazy wave. “See you around… whoever you are,” he called out, lighthearted, his eyes trailing you.
Why the hell was he so curious about you.
Megumi kept his grip on your wrist, practically dragging you along until the two of you reached a more private spot—a quiet little area tucked beneath an overgrowth of trees. Thick bushes surrounded the bench, adding a sense of seclusion that felt both calming and suffocating all at once. You recognized the place from earlier on your walk. It wasn’t far from the front entrance, and the realization sent a small pang through your chest. How many times would he make it obvious he didn't want you here until you'd get it? The self conscious part of you brain was screaming at you. feeling oddly shy with being here.
You stole a glance at him, catching sight of his face. His jaw, clenched, his gaze sharp and tunneled, like he was too lost in his own frustration to notice anything else. The tension in his features was unmistakable, and that tightness in your gut only grew.
When he finally let go of your wrist, you felt the cool air replace the warmth of his touch, though it didn’t ease the knot forming in your stomach. He sighed, his shoulders sinking slightly as some of the tension eased from his posture.
“What’re you doing here?” his voice, low but softer than before.
You could easily cry. Despite being the older one here, you felt more like a scolded toddler, small and out of place. But when your eyes met his, something shifted. The hard glare he’d been wearing was gone, replaced by a calmer expression, maybe even a little tired. His hands moved to his face, rubbing across his eyes as if trying to wipe away the remnants of his frustration.
You really needed to get ahold of yourself. Since when did it matter if he wanted you there? You were there to drop off something he forgot. Maybe it was just the embarrassment teens get when their overly affectionate parent comes to dote on them in front of their friends. Maybe theyd tease him about this later....
When he looked at you again, there was that particular softness in his gaze, the kind that made your chest ache. Your thoughts immediately cleared. Maybe he wasn't so upset with you...
“You embarrassed of me?” you joked weakly, forcing out a laugh that didn’t quite land. You prayed the faint hurt in your tone wasn’t as obvious as it felt.
Megumi’s eyes widened, caught off guard. Like he hadn't anticipated you actually being hurt by his actions. He could sense the tension in your voice, much like how you could sense his. He stared at you for what felt like forever, his mouth opening slightly as though he wanted to respond, only to close again as the words faltered. His head tilted just a fraction, his brows furrowing in thought, like he was scrambling for an excuse but coming up empty. The silence stretched between you, and for a moment, it seemed like he wasn’t sure what to say—or if he even could.
You chuckled, stepping forward to pinch his cheek lightly. “Relax,” you teased, quickly shoving down the lingering sting of your own feelings as you swung the strap off your shoulder and held the bag out to him. He wasn't mad at you. “I told you—I brought your bag. How can someone as responsible as you forget something like this, hmm?”
For a moment, Megumi just stared at the bag, like he couldn’t quite believe you’d gone out of your way for something so trivial. Slowly, he reached out to take it, his fingers brushing yours in the process. The brief contact wasn’t much, but you caught the faintest flush creeping into his cheeks.
“Thanks… mom,” he muttered, his voice quieter than usual, almost shy.
He eyed the second bag slung around your shoulder.
"Oh! And this is for you." He took the bag quizzically, peeking inside only for his eyes to light up. "Thought I'd at least bring your favorite." The packed dinner was a good choice. The awkward tension from earlier melted away as a warm smile spread across his face.
You couldn’t help but laugh softly at how cute he was, the tense atmosphere already fading away. A small lull settled between you, the kind of silence that felt comfortable rather than strained. The overgrown trees swayed gently overhead, their leaves whispered softly in the breeze, wrapping the moment in an almost serene stillness. It was starting to get cold out. Soon enough, he would be due for another birthday. Yours had already passed a few weeks back.
Without warning, Megumi stepped forward, pulling you into a tight hug. His arms wrapped securely around you, holding you close as his chin came to rest lightly on top of your head. The embrace was firm, not overbearing, and for a moment, you froze in surprise before leaning into it. He was always one for affectionate gestures... but....
“You should head back,” he said quietly, though there was a faint reluctance in his tone that made you nearly hesitate. You didnt want to leave just yet.
You nodded, your hands brushing his arms briefly before you pulled back. “Alright,” you replied softly, offering him another small smile before turning to leave.
As you walked back toward the path, you spotted Gojo and Yuji nearby, standing a little too still to pass as innocent. You were sure they were supposed to have left already, but there they were—watching. Not that you had anything you were particularly secretive about.
But Yuji’s gaze seemed to dart to anywhere but you, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, while Gojo leaned casually against a tree, the ever-present grin on his face somehow managing to look even more smug.
The second your eyes met theirs, Yuji’s face flushed bright red. He muttered something under his breath, quickly averting his gaze as though he could disappear by sheer will. Gojo, on the other hand, stood there shamelessly. All cocky and arrogant. Immediately irritating you again.
Megumi stepped out from behind you, their eyes shifting over immediately. Gojo’s grin turned absolutely wicked, his quirked brow seeming ready to tease him endlessly. Yuji’s mouth twitched, as though he was trying—and failing—not to laugh, his wide eyes flicking between the two of you. 
Megumi, however, barely acknowledged them. He strode past you without a word, but as he did, you felt the faintest brush of his hand against your back. The touch was light, almost imperceptible, but deliberate enough to send a jolt through you. Your cheeks warmed instantly, and before you could even process the moment, Gojo gave an exaggerated cough. 
By the time Megumi reached their sides, Gojo and Yuji were all over him, poking his cheeks and teasing him relentlessly. You couldn’t help but wonder if they’d ever let him live down whatever they thought they’d seen. For someone as stoic as Megumi, seeing him soften must’ve been quite the sight for them.
You sighed quietly, feeling a little secondhand embarrassment for him.
The walk home was pretty silent.
It was hard to find much to do when the house was as silent as it was. Time seemed to crawl as you went through the motions of your routine, everything blurring together in the same, boring monotony.
You and Megumi exchanged texts here and there, but as always, he was evasive about certain topics. He avoided talking about his friends, that teacher, and especially his missions. No matter how many ways you tried to bring it up, he always managed to steer the conversation elsewhere.
But he seemed more comfortable sharing through photos—pictures of the meals he was eating, scenic views, and even the occasional selfie with a classmate or two. It seemed he was trying to include you more in his day to day life, maybe sensing your growing urge for something different. You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about it.
He wasn’t supposed to be worrying about you like this—but when had Megumi ever not been thoughtful when it came to you?
He was always helping around the house, bringing home things you needed. He’d carry the heavier bags without being asked, and when he was home, he never went out much. Instead, he’d linger in your presence, watching the same TV shows you liked, or even sitting in complete silence, or even sun napping on the couch. A second shadow.
And if you were forced to admit it, he made the loneliness and monotony a lot easier to bear. His presence had a way of filling the empty spaces, making the house feel less like a silent box and more like a home.
When it came to you, Megumi seemed to have a sixth sense. He was always away at school when you were called out to your clan house, yet, without fail, he’d send you a message the second you got back, asking how you were. He always seemed to know when you were stressed or needed something—sometimes even before you realized it yourself. Megumi wasn’t just thoughtful. No, he was in tune with you in a way that felt almost uncanny.
And now that he was older… you couldn’t help but wonder. Did he still harbor that same puppy crush he had when he was younger? The thought made your head spin. Was he still seeing you in that light, or had it faded? He’d never fully confirmed it back then, never said anything outright. But he’d always been affectionate—hadn’t he?
Wasn’t he always like that? 
And yet… how would you feel about that?
No.
These weren’t the right questions to be asking. You still had a place here. You were still his stepmother. These weren’t the thoughts you should even be entertaining, not for a second. But the thought made you freeze in your tracks, the shirt you were folding suddenly feeling heavier in your hands. It was nearing his graduation—just a week away—and you didn't have the faintest idea what came after.
Would he be moving out? Would he stay home for a while to plan his next steps? Would he be doing Jujutsu work? 
And then there was the question you didn’t want to ask, the one that made your stomach twist. Would you still be allowed to stay here? Or would your clan come calling, pulling you out of the life you’d carefully built over the years? The main reason for you being here was Megumi and Toji. Forming those relationships and feeding small bits of information. But if neither of them were even going to be home....
No, surely they wouldn’t. Not after all this time. If they were going to do that, they would’ve already done it… wouldn’t they? Surely....They hadn't mentioned it before at least.
Toji had come home briefly the week before Megumi’s graduation, but it didn’t take long to learn he’d already taken on yet another mission. Despite the two of you growing closer over time, it never seemed to slow him down when it came to picking up those lengthy assignments that kept him away for days at a time.
This time was no different. He mentioned it was a high-profile case, one with the potential to drag on longer than expected. “Two weeks minimum,” and he wouldn’t be back in between.
It wasn’t anything new. Toji’s comings and goings had always been unpredictable, and you’d grown used to the empty spaces he left behind. But something about this mission left you uneasy. 
But for now, all you could do was wait.
come home
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lucycore · 2 days ago
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Harry Potter Headcanons
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₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊ ˚ ☁️✨️☁️ ₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊
For all the people with daddy issues.
Summary: Now how do I explain this? It's pretty much about you having daddy issues and therefore what would include dating these older men.
Includes: Severus, Sirius, Remus, Lucius,
☁️ fluff ☁️ reader is 18 or older
˚˖𓍢ִ໋☁️✧˚.🪐༘⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋☁️✧˚.🪐༘⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋☁️✧˚.🪐༘⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋☁️✧˚.🪐⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋☁️✧˚.🪐༘
Severus:
Very protective obviously
Worries a lot about your well being
Would keep you save from voldy & death eaters..He just doesn't want you to be involved
Can be strict sometimes about who you interact with
He loves when you sit on his lap
He would teach you a lot about potions & dark arts how to defend yourself not how to practice it
Keeps the relationship with you very private
A lot of hugs and kisses
He can get sometimes a little rough but obsesses over you
Also very calm as it's not in his nature to yell when he's mad
Sirius:
Lot's of kisses on the forehead
His kissing is very gentle even when you make out with him
He loves to stroke your hair and tell you how good you are & all that sweet stuff to make you feel loved
Cares about you like a real dad
You're his first priority even above Harry
Lots of late night cuddles
Likes to tell you stories..Sometimes you fall asleep to them
Loves to take you on little walks also at night in the moonlight
Very gentle with words & touches
Would never make you feel uncomfortable
Remus:
He is so sweet to you. Can get little serious/strict with you but never yells
Is literally the best at cheering you up
Likes to give you chocolate no matter if you're upset or not
Handles situations where you're crying really good like he's not awkward or something.
Cuddles you a lot or just give you hugs
He is more of a hugger than kisser but he loves to kiss you don't get me wrong there
Also very gentle with words & touches even more than Sirius
Loves to see you smile..I think your smile is what he loves most about you
He smiles a lot at you & listens to your troubles whenever you need to open up to him. It never annoys him & he always has a good opinion & resolution or just simply shares what he has to say.
Loves to hold your hands & kiss them to show how much he honors you.
Lucius:
Dude i don't even know I feel like he would add to your daddy issues haha but no in all seriousness
You're his princess. Literally.
He takes you shopping & you can buy whatever you like
A lot of gifs but also lots of sweet words
He praises you a lot
He is always very proud of you no matter what you do
Loves kissing you and having you sit on his lap
Also loves when you cuddle into him, your face in his chest.
A lot of compliments & prioritizes to make you feel safe no matter how much he's shitting his pants (referring to his state in HP 6&7)
He finds it very romantic to slow dance with you & look you deep into the eyes with much love in them.
Something Important I can't stress enough: Daddy issues or father complex is a real condition that only people with a bad father can have. So if you have a good or ok relationship with your father but you like older men, you do not have daddy issues but a preference which is called 'daddykink'. Stop for fucks sake romanticizing a psychological condition. Not all people with daddy issues like older men btw.
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traumadumpwriter · 3 days ago
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JJ Maybank X Reader ~ Relapse and a Half
My first OBX fic. I hope y’all like it.
Summary: The Pogues feel betrayed by the readers sudden relapse into hard drugs, but they’re unable to be angry at her for too long as something terrible leaves her needing their support more than ever.
Trigger warning for: drugs (obviously), guns, sexual assault, violence
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Part two
Part One:
You'd been on the edge for a while now. The relapse should've been seen from a mile off. Your uncharacteristic quietness, the way you'd get lost in your thoughts, the distant look in your eyes. Everyone could tell that something was up, but even when they questioned you about it you had no real answers to give - uncertain yourself of what was making you feel so withdrawn.
When you'd first moved to OBX with your busy mum, you'd instantly found a group of friends - a really good group of friends - the Pogues. And they'd been quick to suss out that you were hiding things - particularly JJ. You were practically never sober, for starters, and though he wasn't either, you had a way of taking it to the next level. This was fun most of the time, but sometimes it got to a level that was concerning - even to the most problematic Pogue on the island. Whenever he'd pushed you for answers, trying to figure out what exactly you were self medicating for, you got extremely annoyed and so he never really got a straight answer. You couldn't bare to be so vulnerable with anyone - let alone the boy you'd started to develop feelings for - so you remained somewhat of a mystery.
Sure, there had been nights when you'd shared a bed - both of you very drunk. You'd convince yourself that maybe JJ liked you, maybe the sex meant more to him than just sex, but then when he'd continue to treat you like just a friend the morning after, your hopes would be crushed. It’s not like you ever gave him any reason to think that the sex was anything other than casual, but that was because you didn’t want him to be able to reject you. And besides, could he not tell that you wanted more? Kiera could and she wasn’t even in the bedroom.
Then the overdose happened. The Pogue's had suspected that you'd been taking something other than just alcohol for a while. The night that you'd almost died at the Chateau their suspicions became a painful fact. You'd taken a few too many pills - benzodiazepines to be exact - and though you'd known that you were reaching a point of no return, after hearing all about the gorgeous touron that JJ had been obsessed with, you couldn't bring yourself to stop.
That night had been awful for everyone, and you'd ended up tearfully promising that you would get clean after that, unable to bear the hurt on the Pogue's faces. So you'd been almost a year clean now, blossoming into a new person that the Pogue's liked even more than the old you. Yours and JJ's relationship remained just as complicated though - still having the occasional hookup but largely seeming as if you were just friends. Now that you weren't on pills and you could actually fully remember the sex, it hurt even more in the morning after. Still, you continued, desperate to feel wanted even if it was just for a night.
You hadn't realised how much this routine was actually bothering you until in a night similar to the one you'd overdosed on, JJ had been making out with another gorgeous touron.
*Your POV*
I'd watched jealously from across the party, ignoring the sound of Kie in my ear telling me that "I was much prettier than that touron."
I appreciated the sentiment, but I knew it was a lie, and so in a split second decision, I told Kie that I was going to go home. "I'm going to have an early one." I said, knowing it was a lie. "I'll see you tomorrow."
In that split second decision, I'd decided that all of my progress didn't matter if I still felt this worthless. What was the point in being clean if it meant that I wanted to die? JJ's insistence had been one of the things that had motivated me to stay away from the pills, but he hadn't been interested in me for a while now. He hadn't even asked me for a fuck. Had he grown bored of me? Or maybe I had gotten uglier without realising it. Maybe I had put on some weight or he didn't like my haircut. Maybe he’d developed feelings for a different girl - a better girl.
Kie nodded worriedly, clearly not sure whether to believe me or not. I hadn't even directly confessed to her that I liked JJ, she was just the only one in the group who wasn't too stupid to see it.
"Okay. Be safe." She smiled, pulling me into a hug, and though I felt bad, I still hopped on my bike and headed straight to Barry's as soon as the coast was clear.
Kie would be devastated if she'd known where I was actually going. So would John B, and Pope, and maybe even JJ, but they would forgive me quicker than her. At least, I thought that they would.
Blurred memories of the night I'd overdosed filled my mind; the sound of shouting, someone's fingers down my throat, a muffled sob, flashing lights. A shiver of shame ran down my spine as I struggled to push the images from my mind.
The ride to Barry's was short, though it felt like a lifetime as all the things I hated about myself bounced around in my head like a torturous broken record. Of course JJ didn't want to be with me. I wasn't beautiful enough. I wasn't cool enough. I wasn't good enough. I would just continue to be his slutty friend that he could stick it in whenever it was convenient for him, and he didn't even seem to want that anymore. The thought made me even more ashamed, remembering all the times I'd let him fuck me, hoping that he'd found me beautiful, thinking that maybe he liked me, just to realise in the morning that I was easy to him.
Yet I knew, that if he were to approach me in that moment and ask for a fuck, I wouldn't say no. I wanted to be wanted so badly, even if it was just for a fleeting moment, and the feeling was unbearable. It ate me up inside, making my chest tight and my eyes water. I was quick to blink any dampness away from my eyes though, focused instead on the high that I would soon have - the comfortable numbness that it would bring me. My clean streak meant nothing, a stupid concept when compared to the internal anguish I felt. From my low self esteem to my repressed trauma, I had no fight left in the battle to stay clean. Sure, the Pogue's would be upset if they found out, but I wouldn't let them find out. I would keep it low-key, unlike I did before.
When I knocked on Barry's door, I was relieved that he was the one to answer and the house was seemingly empty, meaning I only had to speak to him. His friends were annoying, and though I didn't particularly like Barry, I found him funny sometimes.
"Well shit, Y/N. Been a while." He grinned.
"Yeahh. Well I'm back." I said with a mock smile.
"Come inside."
The transaction had soon been completed; a pot of pills in my hand and some cash in Barry's. I leant back into the sofa and took one immediately, swallowing it down with a beer handed to me by him.
"Bad night?" He questioned with an amused scoff.
"Something like that." I answered. "How about you? Place ain't usually this empty on a Friday." 
"Want my own company sometimes. That a crime?"
"No. Just strange is all." I murmured, taking another swig from the beer.
Paired with my already drunkenness, the feeling of the pill was starting to hit - hard and strong - and I felt my body slump comfortably into the sofa. My head felt light whilst the rest of my body felt heavy, creating a strange, cosy sensation. It was a feeling I'd missed.
"Well what happened with you, party princess?" He scoffed, cracking open a beer for himself.
I let out a light chuckle at the question, now feeling as if it didn't matter. Nothing mattered.
"Dumb shit."
"You looked pretty upset when I opened the door. Boyfriend troubles?"
I raised my eyebrows in mock offence.
"Why would I have a boyfriend?" I questioned with a laugh "Who'd you hear that from?"
Barry laughed too.
"Cus a girl like you - you're pretty. I'm surprised some Kook hasn't swiped you up."
I snorted at that and rolled my eyes.
"Well thanks I guess."
I thought about having sex with Barry in that moment, just to hear him call me pretty again. But I decided against it, slightly sickened by the idea, and pulled myself off the sofa.
"I should go, see you around?"
"You sure you can ride that thing safely?"
"Yeah. I'll be fine." I chuckled before heading out the door and throwing myself back onto my bike.
The ride home was perilous, and though I did almost crash a few times, my body went into autopilot and I was soon safely in my bed, mind too numb to pick myself apart for the first night in a while.
For the next week I was able to keep the pill-taking to a minimum, only popping two a day at most. I only did it to make the thoughts stop - to bring on the comfortable numbness so that I could actually bare to be awake. So that I could actually bare to be around my friends.
I'd always managed to keep my feelings for JJ locked up and manageable, but for some reason seeing him with that touron had bothered me in ways I hadn't been bothered before. Perhaps it was because she was so gorgeous, or maybe it was how pleased JJ looked to have pulled her. Either way, it just reinforced to me how worthless I was. He brought her up one day at the Chateau and it instantly made me feel hot with annoyance.
"That touron from the other night just texted me, should I go there again?" He said with a proud smirk, looking around the room.
I rolled my eyes and picked up the half smoked blunt from the ashtray, relighting it and sucking on it in hopes that it would make my jealousy fade.
"Didn't you steal like a hundred dollars from her purse?" Pope scoffed, eyes focused on the television. Adventure Time was playing with the volume on low, and both Pope and Kie seemed more interested in it than the conversation that JJ and John B had been having. I'd been drifting lazily between the two, too high to properly contribute to anything, but now JJ had my full attention.
"Yeah. Obviously didn't notice though. Girl had too much cash for her own good." He mused, eyes on his phone screen. "Ooh! And guess what she just sent me."
"Tit pic?" John B asked, a grin crawling onto his lips.
"Tit pic." JJ confirmed, chucking his phone over to John B.
"Nice." He chuckled, looking at the phone before chucking it back to JJ.
"You guys are disgusting." Kie scoffed. "I mean like really JJ? Did that girl send you that picture for you to show your friend? You have no respect for women sometimes."
"I respect women very much, actually Kie. I respect you and Y/N. I respect your mums and Pope's mum. I just don't respect easy, spoiled touron's like her." He said defensively, and I loudly scoffed at that. He didn't respect me.
"What? You think I don't respect women too?" He asked me with furrowed brows, crossing his arms.
He was sat across the room from me; myself, Kie and Pope spread out across the sofa whilst him and John B sat in chairs. I looked him up and down, pleased that there was no lump in my throat to swallow, no butterflies in my stomach to squash and no loving gaze to hide.
“Sure, you really respect women JJ. Whatever you say.”
He looked surprised by that response, probably expecting me to get defensive, then continued on a rant about how he wasn’t misogynistic. Kie argued with him for a little bit, and John B and Pope eventually joined in too. Usually I also would’ve joined, just for the amusement of it all, but no words came to my mind. Instead I just watched, chuckling at the occasional insult being thrown and smoking my blunt.
Two weeks later and I’d upped the dose to at least four pills a day. The thoughts had gotten harder to crush, growing a tolerance. Much to my relief though, none of the Pogue’s seemed to suspect anything.
It was a hot day and we’d decided to go swimming, using the inner ring of a tire as a floaty - which we all fought over.
“I stole the tire, so I should get it!” JJ proclaimed, and though he was right, I wanted the ring.
“Okay well if you’re not a woman hater, prove it by letting me and Kie have the ring!” I grinned.
“Yeah! Prove it!” Kie added, high-fiving me.
JJ groaned and rolled his eyes, but eventually gave in with a slight smirk to me.
“Okay fine - but we’re sharing it!”
I giggled at his childish nature, feeling the butterflies rise up in my stomach that I’d been managing so well to suppress. The second that I realised what I was feeling, I knew that I needed to take another pill.
“I’m gonna go pee. Don’t wait for me.” I said, heading back indoors.
Once I was in the bathroom, I dug through my bag to find the orange pot, irritated when I realised that I didn’t have a lot left. I’d have to go back to Barry’s soon. That was annoying. I swallowed one of the pills with some water from the sink and looked at myself in the mirror before heading back out. I looked tired and unattractive and I sighed at that, thinking of how good the girl that JJ had been dancing with at the boneyard this week looked.
I reached into the fridge and took myself out a beer, cracking it open and downing half of it before stepping out of the kitchen. I didn’t expect to see JJ stood on the porch waiting for me, a slight furrow to his brow. I purposely hadn’t been alone with him in weeks and it sent a pang of anxiety into my chest.
“Starting this early? Haven’t seen you do that in a while. You feeling alright?” He asked, his voice soft.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know. You just seem.. different.” He was wording himself carefully, I could tell, which was very out of character for him. What could he possibly want from me?
“I’m just tired.” I said with a huff and tried to walk past him.
He suddenly put his hands on my waist, which was exposed in a bikini, holding me still. At the initial contact, I felt electrified, but I was quickly reminded of what I had missed - and the reasons why. I worried that my flesh felt too squishy under his fingers, that there was too much of it, or that the dip of my waist wasn’t defined enough. Compared to that touron I probably felt like a whale.
“What’s going on Y/N? Are you mad at me?” He asked, his eyes wide with concern, but I couldn’t think about his words - only the crippling self hatred his hand on my waist was making me feel.
I stepped backwards so that he was no longer touching me, something that only seemed to deepen the crease between his eyebrows, and blinked a couple of times before I could speak.
“I’m, uh- I’m going to grab a shirt.”
And with that I paced back inside, finishing the beer and pulling one of John B’s oversized vests over my bikini. The pill hadn’t kicked in yet and I could still see JJ stood waiting on the porch so I decided to go into the bathroom and take another. Then I grabbed another beer from the fridge and downed it, relieved when I felt the relaxing effects kick in almost immediately.
“Why are you downing beer? Since when do you do that?” JJ’s voice from behind me made me jump, his face critical.
“I’m just having a good time.” I smiled at him.
“Really? Because you don’t look like you’re having a good time. You look miserable, Y/N.”
Was it that easy to see through my charade? It irritated me that he cared now when he should’ve cared a couple of weeks ago. Now it was too late.
I huffed and shook my head, managing to walk past him this time undisrupted and lead the way to the water.
“I’m fine. Come on, let’s go.”
He didn’t bother me for the inflatable ring at all. In fact, he didn’t speak to me for hours after that. I wasn’t bothered by it though, the mix of booze and benzos that had finally hit making me entirely unfazed by everything. The comfortable numbness that I craved so badly.
I lay floating in the ring for what felt like hours, my eyes closed as I felt the waves move me freely around. The water was so cold compared to the beaming sun, but the two extremes together made me feel more relaxed than I had been in a while. Maybe I had fallen asleep, I wasn’t too sure, but when someone was suddenly directly next to me, interfering with the natural direction of the waves, I jumped up at their presence.
“What are you thinking about?”
It was Kie, her tone lighthearted though her face was concerned.
“Not much. The sound of the water mostly. You?” I answered truthfully.
“Honestly, right now I’m thinking about you.”
“Why? You into me or something?” I teased, not expecting her tone to change to match her face.
“No Y/N I’m serious. What’s going on with you? You’ve been acting weird ever since that party with the blonde touron.”
Kie was catching on, which was bad. It wouldn’t take her much to figure out what was really happening, so I had to come up with a lie, or maybe not a lie but a distraction.
“Yeah. Okay. I’m sad about JJ… But it doesn’t matter. I’ll get over it.” I confessed, relieved when I saw the stress in Kie’s face relax.
“He’s a total idiot. You can do better than him anyway.” She said with exasperation, stroking my hair.
“No I can’t.” I laughed. “But like I said, it doesn’t matter.”
Kie sighed.
“I wish you weren’t so harsh on yourself. If you could see what other people could see you wouldn’t be.”
I smiled at her, feeling appreciation for the girl buzz through me.
“Love ya Kie.”
She smiled too, but it was weaker than usual.
“Love you too… Now give me the floatie.”
When it got dark some hours later we all piled back into the Chateau and put on a movie, squeezing onto the couch. I sat on the edge and much to my displeasure, JJ sat next to me. That displeasure only lasted a second though before it was washed over by a tidal wave of carelessness, and I was able to relax my body against his like he was anyone - not the most problematic Pogue on the island.
The movie went on for a while until JJ shifted positions, wrapping his arm around me and placing his hand on my leg.
This had been a fairly standard position for us, his fingers creeping up my thigh in the darkness of the room and our friends none the wiser. Now it felt different though, and instead of being excited by it I was annoyed. Was I only good enough to touch in secret? Was he touching me now just because I was there and it was something to do? Could he only bare to touch me when he was drunk? I needed to take another pill.
With a wobble, I flicked JJ’s hands from me and pushed myself up, grabbing my handbag and heading to the bathroom. Pope and Kie had passed out on top of each other and John B was too engrossed in the movie to look up. So when I heard a knock on the bathroom door, I knew who it was before it even opened.
“I didn’t say you could come in. I could’ve been taking a shit.” I teased.
JJ’s stoney face didn’t offer a crack of amusement as he stepped closer to me.
“What’s going on with you? It’s like you can’t stand to be around me. Have I done something?”
“No. Everything is fine.” I answered with a fake smile.
He didn’t buy it, becoming visibly annoyed.
“You’re so full of shit Y/N. Don’t try to play dumb with me right now. I know you’re pissed off about something.”
“Why do I have to be pissed off about something?” I said combatively, crossing my arms.
“Because you���re acting like my touch is gonna make you sick or something and you clearly can’t stand to be around me! Is this because of that tit pic I showed John B? I don’t get it. Are you jealous or something? Or do you just think I’m a sexist pig too?”
“My world doesn’t revolve around you. Have you ever considered that I just stopped giving a shit about what you do?”
I usually felt horrible about lying to my friends, but looking at his beautiful face, thinking of how he didn’t want me, the lie came out easily. He clearly didn’t buy it though.
“Oh really? Is that why you don’t want to fuck anymore? Because you stopped giving a shit about me? Yeah right.” He scoffed and I felt my face start to angrily heat up. “What the fuck is going on? Did someone tell you some bullshit about me? Do you have a boyfriend now or something?”
I scoffed right back at him, widening my eyes in disbelief.
“Would that make you jealous? If I had a boyfriend?”
“Do you or do you not?” He demanded with gritted teeth.
I didn’t answer for a moment, enjoying the stressed expression on his usually uncaring face. Did he really care if I had a boyfriend? Surely not in any way that mattered. Just in some stupid male ego way. I sighed at that and uncrossed my arms as I answered.
“Obviously not. Who would want to be with me? Don’t be stupid, JJ. Now what did you come in here for?”
He looked at me incredulously, as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. I didn’t understand why he seemed so stressed for and it was irritating to me.
“For this conversation, right now! What do you think I came in here for?” He said exasperatedly and I rolled my eyes.
“I don’t know but can you leave? I need to pee.”
“No, I can’t leave until I know what the fuck is going on with you. Jesus! How much have you had to drink?”
Had I been slurring? I couldn’t tell.
“Not enough for this.” I tutted bitterly.
He sucked in his lips and took a deep breath, eyeing me like he was trying to work something out.
“Wait, look at me straight for a second.” He muttered, reaching his hand out to touch my face, angrily repeating himself when I questioned why.
His thumb stroked over my bottom lip and I straightened my back, trying to match his stare but unable to stand completely still. He hadn’t looked at me with such intrigue in a long time, and I was glad I was so high or else I would’ve completely submitted under his blue gaze. His next words instantly shattered any fantasies that could’ve been playing in my head though, instead filling me with unreasonable rage.
“You’re high aren’t you?”
I knew it wasn’t a question. The steely look in JJ’s eyes and his flared nostrils made it abundantly clear that he’d already figured out the answer for himself. But I couldn’t let him think he was right.
“I mean yeah, I’ve smoked a lot today, you have too-”
“You know that’s not what I mean.” He hissed, dropping his hand from my face. “I can’t fucking believe you. This is why you’ve been acting weird. I should’ve known.”
I rolled my eyes and mumbled “You’re overreacting, I’m just drunk” to which he quickly shot back “Oh yeah? Why are your pupils the size of mars then?”
“They’re not.” I felt my footing slip slightly as I lied, and I had to quickly lean against the wall to stop myself from falling.
“And now you’re just lying to my face. Nice one Y/N. How long had you been clean? A year, almost?”
I thought of the hours that he’d spent with me when I’d first gotten sober; looking after me when I was being sick, bringing around food, washing my hair. I’d felt so loved. I’d felt like there was no reason for me to ever pick up a benzo again.
The betrayal in his voice told me that that would never be happening again. With a huff, I picked up my bag from the side and shoved past the blonde, gasping when he grabbed my arm.
“Where are you trying to go now?” He laughed humourlessly.
“Get off me, JJ. I’m going home.”
“What because you’ve been caught out?”
“No. Because you’re being a dick.”
He wouldn’t loosen his grip on my arm despite my desperate pulling and so I started to speak louder, hoping someone would intervene and give me a chance to slip out.
“Get off me!”
“I’m not letting you go.” He said with gritted teeth, tightening his grip. “What have you taken?”
“Get the fuck off me!” I repeated louder, relieved when John B appeared in the doorway.
“What the hell is going on?” He looked between us with a concerned expression and JJ loosened his grip.
“She’s on fucking drugs again, John B.” JJ hissed and though I wanted to argue and try to prove him wrong, I quickly slipped out of the bathroom and paced out of the house, ignoring JJ’s shouts from behind me.
“What the fuck is going on Y/N?”
“Do you just not give a shit about yourself? About your friends?”
“How could you do this? You were clean for so long.”
His words stung, and though I rationally knew he was right, I was too ashamed to feel anything other than anger and embarrassment. The Pogue’s would hate me now, and rightfully so.
I understood why JJ was so annoyed. I’d listened to him seethe about his dad, about how he was an abusive drug addict - but yet, when the blonde came home and he was passed out on the sofa, JJ still always checked if he was breathing. I’d seen the bruises, and met the man who left them, begrudgingly shook his hand and tried to forget what he’d done with them. Was I reminding JJ of that? Was I like his piece of shit father?
In a rush, I picked up my bike and went to get on it but instantly fell over, dropping the bike as I did.
“You’re gonna ride home like this? Seriously?” JJ’s voice came from behind me, loud and aggressive.
I struggled to pick my bike back up, almost falling over it again, and his hands were suddenly on top of mine, holding the handles and stopping me from going. John B was quick behind him.
“Are you really on drugs, Y/N?” John B questioned, eyes wide.
“I’m just drunk.” I hissed, trying to pull the bike out of JJ’s grip.
“Right, she says she’s just drunk, let her go JJ.” John B said harshly but JJ scoffed.
“She’s lying! Look at her! She can’t even walk properly!”
Then he turned to me, his voice suddenly pleading and face full of pain. It caught me off guard and I felt another pang of guilt ripple through my body, tears attempting to escape my eyes but being successfully pushed back by the Xanax.
“What have you taken, Y/N? Please don’t lie to me. I know you’ve taken something.”
I wanted to tell him the truth so bad. The whole truth. I wanted to break down and beg for his forgiveness, to tell him I loved him and that I would get clean again.
But I couldn’t do it.
There was no point.
I’d ruined everything now anyway.
“I’m just drunk. Leave me alone.” I slurred and tried to pull the bike from his grip again.
It didn’t work. I fell backwards onto the ground, landing on my butt with a groan. I laughed at my fall instinctively, forgetting the situation I was in for a second, but when I looked up and saw my friend’s distressed faces my laughing stopped. Even John B looked suspicious now, his eyes snapping from mine to JJ’s. He bent down and pulled me up with ease, though he huffed after he’d done it.
“Y/N, can we look in your bag?”
My heart leapt into my throat and I quickly jumped to defence.
“No way you fucking pervs. Let me go home.”
He turned to JJ with an straight face and both of them exchanged a short look before looking back at me.
That was it. He believed JJ. He knew.
“I’m not letting you ride home. I’ll drive you.”
His voice had been so monotone, so void of any real offering, that it caught me off guard. He was angry. I looked at JJ. He was angry too.
“N-No. I’m fine. I can ride-”
“I’m fucking driving you home, Y/N. Get in the Twinkie.” John B cut me off sharply and I jumped backwards, almost falling again until he caught me.
They both looked so disappointed and I was so ashamed at that point that all I could do was nod, following him silently to the van. JJ said nothing and I didn’t dare look back to see if he was looking, though I felt that I could feel his stare on the back of my head. This was the worst thing that could’ve happened. Why did I have to take it so far? Why did I have to lie to their faces like that?
The short drive back to mine was agonisingly silent, all John B said was “Look after yourself” before I stepped out of the van.
My voice got caught in my throat and all I could force out was “Y-Yeah” before closing the door and stumbling towards my house.
Had I destroyed my friendship with the Pogues? It certainly felt like I had.
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bethebesttoyou · 2 days ago
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Times are Hard for Dreamers - Choi Beomgyu
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synopsis: Friends Beomgyu and Y/N try to have a good day at the fair.
pairing: College student! Beomgyu x College student! reader
song: Times are Hard for Dreamers - Amelie
warning/tags: cursing, fluff!!, me trying to be funny and failing, friends to lovers, I wanted to make it jess and nick coded but Beomgyu is just too sweet... reader is an overly optimistic person!!!!
Wc: 3.6k (I swear im not doing this on purpose D:)
A/N: Beomgyu fic... we win. I actually really wanted to write a Beomgyu fic for awhile but I didn't really have an idea, UNTIL NOW!!! I have like half of vampire in the corner worked on, but I started school, so idk IDK I'll have to see where I can go with that story. I also get so many ideas for longer fics, but I can't lock in :( In the meantime, I want to continue writing one shots!! :3
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Beomgyu leans his head against the headrest, stretching out his arms and grunting before checking his watch again. He closes his eyes in frustration before looking back at your front door, his sunglasses dimming his overall view. When you told him 12 pm, he should've known better, should’ve read in between the lines, the way you excitedly ranted about the day you had in store for the both of you. He should've known when he surprisingly got you tickets to the very popular fall fair, that you would overwhelm yourself with planning. Now, 30 minutes later, he watches your front door intently, praying it opens. And it works, out you come prettily dressed in a tan long sleeve and plaid long skirt, both accentuated the curvature of your body so nicely, he wishes you could go back in so he can compose himself. But as you smiled widely at his presence, sending him a wave before adjusting your bag over your shoulder, he settled for a nervous cough and looked away, only looking back at you when you were finally sitting in the passenger seat. He scowls at you playfully. 
“Oh. Beomgyu we have to leave by 12 or we're gonna miss the opening…Oh Beom, please sleep early and get here on time, Oh Beom-” He mocked, only letting out a laugh when you punch his shoulder. 
“It's still 12…we’ll make it if you just drive, like now!” You roll your eyes playfully and start messing with his radio and he just scoffs, putting the car on drive. 
Beomgyu honestly couldn't care less about this fall fair, if it were up to him, he would've been home, relaxing after the terror from being buried in papers and exams and research during midterms, but he didnt think twice of buying them. When he saw the posters all over campus he knew you would want to go, he already pictured the way your eyes would brighten from the mere mention of the mazes, the games, the snacks, he knew you would just obsess over the last activity of the day, fireworks. And when he mentioned it to you, he was right. 
“I-I would love to!” You exclaim turning to your friends behind you, some of them snickering knowingly. 
“Hey gyu, where are our tickets?” Yeonjun bumps Kai’s shoulder before feigning ignorance. 
“Shut up.”
So maybe his crush on you wasn’t exactly hidden, he was a man after all, and it was only natural that someone as optimistic and bright as you would catch the attention of a pessimist that lacks that brightness in his life. He loved to act like he didn't care much about anything, but he cared a lot about you. He couldn't fight the urge of showing it, catering to your likings with fake annoyance, but in reality he lived for your excitement, it only fueling him to continue, he was surprised you've been the only one to not catch on, or maybe internally grateful you hadn't, he didn't think he was ready for that yet. 
But he thought of it, especially now as he heard your raving about the itinerary for the day, having done your research on the different activities and food stands being offered at the event, and he was glad to be the first one to ask you, he couldn't imagine you doing this with anyone else, he would rather die. 
“Jesus, does it tell you how I'm gonna die on that paper?” He teases anyways, and you grunt. 
“I want to take full advantage of today, we deserve a day of stress free fun!” 
“I guess I can agree.” 
“Trust me Gyu, we're gonna have so much fun, you're gonna want to come back.” You promised. “This paper is gonna be our lifeline today, just as long as we stick to it, we should be able to do everything! Here’s your copy.” 
He laughs at your ridiculous planning but believes in you anyways. He just wanted to spend time with you, grateful to have you all to himself, so he was more than willing to follow a piece of paper if it meant it was guaranteed. 
The car ride was meant to be a long one, the directions sending you out of the city you both occupied, to the closest open field your campus can find to set up. Yet, the drive didn't feel as long as Beomgyu expected, your voice causing him to lose track of time, paying attention to your silly stories and gossip he hated to admit was pretty interesting. 
“So, they were not dating? Just fucking?” 
“Ningning said that she said they weren't…and now they're just not talking anymore…” 
“That's annoying…” 
“That's what I'm saying!They definitely like each other, they’re just dumb.He’s gotta step up.” You roll your eyes and he can't help but feel the pink heat rise to his face. 
He finally parks, turning off the ignition and turns to you, once again taking in the sight. You were everything, he thought, there's not a single sweet word that doesn't describe you. Watching you as you straighten the paper, he watches your delicate fingers scan the page, before speaking. 
“Okay! Well, we missed the opening ceremony but it's fine, I didn't care much for it anyways…First on the list is for you. Let’s start with…coffee! yay!” You say hoping out of the car, him laughing at your excitement. Giving the worker the tickets, you immediately head towards the coffee stand to the right, ignoring that Beomgyu was in awe of the set up. It was the middle of the day, but the entire fair was lit up like those old carnivals you would see in the movies. Laughter and screams could be heard from every corner, the smell of popcorn and sweets mixing together and clogging his nostrils, he could see why you were excited, this place was like a manifestation of your personality: fun, nostalgic and comforting. 
“Beomgyu! I got your drink!” you yell from afar, and he turns around, walking, stepping towards you before, watching in horror as someone cuts him off, bumping into you and spilling both coffees on your chest. 
“Dude, what the fuck?” Beomgyu says turning to the offender, as they apologize profusely. 
“Are you okay?” 
“-you okay?” they both asked frantically, Beomgyu already taking your hand, starting to lead you to the closest stand with napkins. He completely misses the way your face turns pink, before you laugh awkwardly, distracted from his own flustered feeling, he feels like a Victorian man by just the touch of your soft hand, the hotness spreading from your connected hands to all over his body.
“Good thing, it wasn't hot coffee right?” You squeeze his hand before taking a napkin. 
You turn to the apologizing stranger, “it's fine! You're fine! It was an accident!” you say, before turning back again and smiling at Beomgyu, “it was an accident.” Now softer, trying to ease the scowl on his face. 
After politely rejecting the strangers' pleas to help, he finally leads you to another nearby stand, hoping to find a shirt to replace the sticky top you were now stuck with. After looking at the selections, the only one in your size was a muddy green shirt that had a random koala bear with sunglasses on with the words, “Koalified to party” Beomgyu looks at you with sorry eyes, as you gulp at the shirt. 
“So much for cute pictures today…” You say from behind the fitting room curtain.”But it's okay! This is gonna be a fun story to tell the group!,” You laugh lightly, walking out of the makeshift fitting room only to Beomgyu trying to stifle a laugh. You flick his forehead before continuing, 
“No! It looks good! You look good!” He laughs. 
“Well, forget coffee! Back to the paper! Next stop…um…the swings!” 
The high swings were towards the back, and Beomgyu noticed every time you looked down at your watch, you’d start walking faster, the furrow of your eyebrows becoming more evident as the walk continued. Once you got to the front, your smile came back and shined brightly towards the worker before dropping completely when he pointed out the line that stood behind you. 
“A-and um… how long is the wait?” 
“All ride lines right now are going to be about two hours or so.” the worker says, apologetically looking at you both. 
Beomgyu is starting to realize what type of day this was going to be, and he wanted to suggest going home, or finding something else to do, trying to avoid even more disappointment. If he had known it was going to be this packed or this difficult to enjoy the day, he wouldn't have suggested it at all and you would have had to plan an entire day just for it to completely fall apart in front of you. But when you turn to him with determination in your eyes, he remembers you are never one to back down.  
“Okay, new plan! We no longer wait for the rides, let's just play some games! Maybe head to the maze after! That should still give us time to make it back for the fireworks!” you say, your smile was not as big as it was 3 hours ago, but it was still there. Beomgyu wanted to check on you just in case. 
“You okay? We can always just-” 
“No time for that! We have the paper!” You say already walking away. 
It had been two hours into playing games, and after you exclaimed how obsessed you were with the giant  light brown teddy bear that hung from the corner of the stand, the bow that laid just below its ear making you squeal, you both took turns playing trying to knock down the obvious glued golden cups. You and Beomgyu both lost about 100 dollars combined. The carny had been a bored looking teenager, would laugh every time he saw you guys walk back to the end of the line, but you both were too frustrated to even care. Beomgyu honestly didnt want the stupid fucking bear, it wasnt worth it, but in his mind, you needed this win (and he wanted this win for you, so bad)and so each time it was his turn, he would throw the ball more aggressively, trying to fight the look of disappointment on your face when the cup would resist the blow. He didn't want to feel bad, but he did, immensely, as he watched you throw the ball and grunt loudly. You start rubbing your temple out of sheer frustration before sighing. 
“One more go…Just one more go, okay?” You say to him, and he watches you line up one last time, the look of determination etched on your face. Only for the small child in front of you to knock the golden cup, the ringing congratulatory bell going off as you watch with a straight face. The cheers were so loud and in Beomgyu’s opinion, obnoxious, that he wanted nothing more than to just comfort you, take you away from the scene and offer you some solace, but the fear of rejection kept him from doing so. 
“Well, it's maze time.” You say as you watch the child and their parents walk off with the giant bear, your eyes reflecting shame, embarrassment and sadness. Beomgyu decided that his heart could bear the negative emotion in your eyes, it wasn't you,he thought.
“Hey what if we just get out of here? Get something to eat, yeah?” 
“N-no we cant! The paper! The maze! fireworks! We can't miss the fireworks! You bought me these tickets, we can let them go to waste!” you panic, but your eyes look defeated. Beomgyu doesn't want to burst your bubble, he really wishes things could have been different, but he can't stand the thought of watching you get disappointed again. With the way things are going, he knew the fireworks were gonna follow the same fate. He knew you to be optimistic, never letting things get you down, but he wasn't so sure as to why you were so determined for this day to go perfectly. You had never been so obsessed with the details before.  
“y/n… it's okay, really! … l-lets just go…” your eyebrows, that were slightly slanted and eyes that were soft, immediately switched to anger, with now furrowed eyebrows and flames in your eyes. 
“Y-you can go then. But I'm going to the maze. Don't follow me. ” You say stomping away, leaving Beomgyu shocked and guilty. He wasn't sure what was going on, what had made you so determined to finish the day, even if it meant you were no longer standing by the end of it. 
He felt horrible. All he wanted was to see your smile again, to see you enjoying the fair like he had hoped you would, yet this mysterious pressure was nearly forcing you into a breakdown. He wanted to fix this, needed to. He was determined now, no longer caring if he looked too doting, even if it made his feelings visible to you, he was going to make it up to you. Starting with that fucking bear. 
He stalks up to the stand, where the same bored looking teenager now stood with an amused look on his face, watching Beomgyu stand mere feet away from him. 
“How much for the bear.” They had replaced it with a new one already. 
“Not for sale, man, you gotta win.” 
Beomgyu stares at him, hoping to read him well. 
“Ill give you 50 bucks for it.” 
“Ha! Make it a hundred and you got a deal.” 
“60.” 
“120, and I'll throw in a ferris wheel ride with my buddy over there.” Beomgyu blushed at the thought. That sparked an idea. 
“During the fireworks?” the boy thought about it for a second. 
“I guess I can make that happen…might cost a bit extra though…” 
“Fuck, whatever. Deal.” 
Beomgyu thought about waiting for you outside of the maze entrance, but it had been 30 minutes and you were still not out. He had seen those that enter after you already come out and he began to feel nervous. Worried thoughts of missing the fireworks became worried thoughts of something happening to you in the maze. His worries got worse when your phone was sending him to voicemail. 
So with tired arms and heavy grunts, he walks into the maze, keeping track of his turns, which he learned he didn't have to, you weren't that far from the opening, yet, you were scrunched down, head buried in your hands, crying. 
“Y/N?” He says muffled the giant bear barely fitting through the small isles of corn. 
“Oh thank god!- Wait what the hell?” You said, tear stained cheeks, and now wide confused eyes staring at the bear that covered most of his body.
‘Why are you crying?” He asks, and it almost looks like the bear is talking. 
“I got lost…” You were lost in the presence of the bear, “D-Did you win this?” 
“Um…”
He had questions too, but as he looked up and realized that it was finally dark, he pulled your hand and began to run out of the maze, 
“Questions later! We're gonna be late!” 
“For?” 
“You’ll see!” 
—-
Once you got to the ferris wheel, you watched as Beomgyu walked past the long line into the stand. Beomgyu notices you are about to interrupt, glossy eyes and all, but turns when he hears his name. 
“You Beomgyu?” 
“Yes.” 
“Is the bear your date? If not, it's gonna have to stay down here, it's not gonna fit.” the carny chuckles, Beomgyu glares back. 
“Whatever gets me up there man.” 
“Hey… A-Are we getting on?” 
Beomgyu notices your face that was just laced with pure confusion. He smiles softly before leaving the bear behind, leading you to your cart, sitting next to you and securing your seatbelt. It's only then does he understand the gravity of the situation and he's thinking he might have flown a little too close to the sun. This was, very clearly, a romantic gesture, and Beomgyu had no plan, whatsoever. This was it, he planned getting you up here, watching the fireworks, but then what? What can you do on a ferris wheel in a platonic way? Talking! You could talk! Talk while you wait for the fireworks! 
He tries to think of things to say, but how can he?  when you are so close and he can smell your fruity perfume, mixed with a hint of coffee. Your lips ,that had always attracted his eyes to stare at them while you spoke, now don't have to say anything for him to notice them there, parted and soft before stretching into a shy smile. 
“...How did you do all this?” he shakes his head.
“That doesn't matter, I'm sorry the day has been such a mess and I haven't been much help either…” You scoff. 
“That's definitely not your fault, I'm sorry…the one that wanted to make this all perfect.” 
“Yeah, why is that?” Beomgyu feels self conscious as you stare at him for a minute, before laughing awkwardly. 
“Can I give you something? You promise not to laugh?” He feels the pressure from your words, fear of what may come next. Oh god, he thought, someone told you about his feelings… He nods anyway, accepting fate. You were now at the highest point on the ferris wheel, and Beomgyu begged for the show to start, scared of hearing what you were going to say. 
You reach into your bag, before pulling a thinly worn folded notebook paper before handing it to him. Written on top was his name and a small heart next to it. He shivered at the sight. 
“I-its a note… I wrote it the day of graduation” You laugh, “it's silly and it was never going to see the light of day, but I don't know…I felt ready. Well sorta…” You are looking away now, trying hard not to make it more awkward than you are starting to feel. The fireworks start, popping and lighting up the sky, but Beomgyu can't focus as he's now shakingly opening the note. 
A confession note. 
Beomgyu gasps, reading the contents, before looking at you. You’re looking up in admiration of the colors before you, the shapes that manifest in the night sky, a nervous smile sets on your lips, fingers nervously holding on to the rail of your cart. He knows you feel his gaze on you but refuses to turn to him. 
“Y/N…” 
“It's okay, Beomgyu! Really! I just…I needed to do something about this letter… I was holding on to it for way too long.” You're not really talking about the letter, Beomgyu believes. When he can't find the words yet, you continue. 
“I just.. I hope this doesn't change us, I hope we can still be friends… Please…” Pleading eyes are what finally meet Beomgyu’s shocked ones and he finds you so beautiful in this moment, he can’t bring himself to say everything that he's ever wanted to. That he has waited for some kind of sign for two years, that you had occupied a space in his heart since the first day he's met you, that he did all this just for you, and would never ask for anything in return, that your smile and presence was more than enough. But instead, hoping to convey the mutual feeling or perhaps stronger ones,  Beomgyu grabs your face by each side and brings you closer, and you let out a squeal, the fireworks only getting more aggressive and intense. And it matches the way Beomgyu’s heart is feeling, accelerated, like it's about to explode as he lays his lips on yours, feeling the petal likeness of your lips.
And the butterflies swarm all over his body when you finally kiss back, fluttering your eyes closed, and pressing further in, shivering from your own nerves slowly dissipating. He hopes you can feel everything he’s thinking, everything he wants you to know, but in case you didn't, he pulls back and looks at you, now possessed with the same determination you had all day: 
“I dont want to stay friends. I want to be with you. I want this, all the time. I like you, Y/N. Please, tell me this letter still means something."He pulls a stray hair behind your ear, watching the pinkness in your cheeks get darker. 
“O-Of course it does. It always will.” You whisper with shining eyes. Your hands that had been glued on the railing, now moving to his waist and wrapping them around and hugging him tight. He sighs and smiles widely, hands now holding you close, it was only then had he noticed that the cart was making its way back down. At the entrance, was the giant bear, sitting patiently as you both got off the wheel, trying to pretend neither of your hearts were still pounding from excitement and giddyness. The carny holds a fist bump with a smirk that beomgyu shyly returns before grabbing the bear. 
“W-we missed most of the show, sorry…” He says after a moment of walking in silence. Remembering the taste of you, already growing addicted.  
“No! Don't be… it was perfect, actually the whole day was.” You say, your eyes still beaming with what he can only hope for satisfaction and fondness.
He laughs at that. Before putting an arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer. Walking towards the car, you rambled about the maze, how the kid had to have had some steroid in him, he realized just how much the atmosphere has changed. The presence of something filled the air: the makings of new love. 
"You gotta let me borrow that shirt..."
"Shut. Up."
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A/N: YAY!! you made it!!! thanks you for reading!! Like always, let me know what you think! :3
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