#like to the point where she said she was going to 'Look Into It' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

violetrainbow412-blog · 2 days ago

Text

Intoxication [S. R]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

wc: 9.2k

Summary: when Spencer and reader accidentally consume aphrodisiacs, it seems impossible to maintain control of themselves. It all comes down to who will lose their mind first.

warnings: +18, mdni!! alcohol consumption, mentions of weed, unintentional use of aphrodisiacs, explicit descriptions, oral (f receiving) fingering, kissing, porn with plot, p in v, protected sex, no y/n!

It had been just over half an hour since I entered the fraternity building, fully aware that within the first second, I’d feel the need to leave. Attending any gathering wasn’t a regular thing for me. The noise, the crowds, and the multitude of germs everywhere were reason enough to avoid them.

However, that time, I thought, why not? I had never been to one of those university parties and wanted to experience it. However, I never considered the fact that, to enjoy one, you either: a) went with a group of friends or b) drank until you forgot your name and the discomfort you felt about yourself. I didn’t have the first option, nor did I want to do the second. So, after a few minutes of reflection, I decided I would walk back to my apartment and go straight to bed.

The place was huge, and since my postgraduate program didn’t include the benefit of dormitories, I rarely found myself in places like that. I was about to leave when a hand grabbed my forearm to stop me. In front of me, smiling widely, was her. The moment I saw her, I could swear my face lit up.

“Hi”

“Spencer! I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

Without letting go of my arm, she came closer, wrapping me in a hug and planting a kiss on my cheek before I could react.

I quickly glanced at her, and in the dim light, I noticed her wearing a fitted, spaghetti-strap dress in a deep burgundy red with delicate floral embroidery that looked hand-drawn on the sheer fabric. The material, likely chiffon or tulle, clung to her figure as if custom-made. I tried to focus on her leather jacket instead because the last thing I wanted was to make her uncomfortable by staring too long.

“I was just about to leave, actually.”

“Why?” she asked, noticing my sigh.

“It’s just... I don’t know anyone here.”

“Well, that problem is now solved,” she kindly murmured.

I didn’t even get the chance to respond when she had already walked over to another girl, whispering something in her ear, probably to let her know she’d be away for a while.

Even though I wanted to decline to stay, the truth was that I genuinely enjoyed her company. Rejecting her would have been too rude. We had met some time ago thanks to the advanced classes she took, which overlapped with mine. She was younger than me, of course, but only by one or two years.

She had always been kind to me, attentive, and one could say she was a friend. After all, I trusted her enough to let her hold my hand and guide me through the crowd, despite my aversion to physical contact… and people.

“It’d be a crime to let you leave so early after finally coming to a party,” she breathed once we were both seated on a tiny couch where the noise was slightly muffled. At least she had been considerate in that regard.

“I don’t even know why I came,” I said, shifting uncomfortably. She was leaning against one side, legs crossed, looking at me with a smile. “I don’t like parties.”

“Do you like drinking?” she asked. I shook my head “Maybe that’s the root of the problem.”

“Getting drunk to the point of losing control isn’t my thing,” I replied.

“That’s not what it’s about,” she murmured almost compassionately “It’s more like�� fuel for your social battery, you know? You don’t have to deal with these people. I don’t even know half of them, but the guys in this fraternity are disgustingly rich and just want to get as many girls drunk as possible to sleep with whoever they can. They won’t mind if you drink a little. Enough to have fun, but not so much you end up in some stranger’s bed.”

I thought about it for a second and silently nodded. I didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of her by saying I didn’t want to drink because, come on, what kind of university student doesn’t drink?

“I understand your point, and I don’t mean to be a buzzkill, but alcohol has a more complex impact than it seems. It’s not just something that ‘fuels your social battery’; it’s a central nervous system depressant, which means it slows down brain and motor functions. That initial feeling of euphoria or relaxation happens because it inhibits the prefrontal cortex—the part of your brain that regulates judgment and self-awareness. So, technically, drinking a little might make you feel more uninhibited or confident, but it can also impair your ability to make rational decisions if you overdo it, even if you don’t notice right away.”

I paused, gauging how much more I should say before losing her interest. Hearing no objections, I continued:

“Additionally, strong liquors, which have high ethanol concentrations, can hit your system faster than diluted drinks. And if you drink too quickly, you could easily exceed your liver’s ability to metabolize the alcohol. The excess ethanol stays in your bloodstream, raising your blood alcohol levels and increasing the risk of intoxication.”

I avoided looking directly at her, partly because I didn’t want to get distracted by her gaze and partly because I was nervous around her.

“It’s not that I want to ruin your fun, but if you’re going to drink, you should do it slowly, alternating with water, and never on an empty stomach. Not to seem smarter than everyone else, but because staying in control can be the difference between a fun night and a situation you don’t want to be in.”

I expected her to look bored, confused, or even indifferent, assuming she’d left halfway through my rambling. But when I looked at her, I was surprised by the admiration shining in her eyes, accompanied by an amused smile.

“All right, genius boy, if you know all that and basically have the perfect recipe for not making stupid mistakes while drinking, why do you still refuse?” she teased playfully. I didn’t know what to say, but luckily, she answered for me “Listen, I drove here. How about we make a deal? We can drink a little, have a good time, maybe dance if you want, and if either of us starts doing something embarrassing, the soberest one will make sure to drag the other to the car and drive them home. Deal?”

She handed me her car keys, and I wasn’t sure if the brush of her hand against mine was intentional or if she had decided to linger a little longer.

I agreed to her proposal, and a second later, she was already off her seat, walking toward where I assumed the kitchen was. No one noticed us entering, too absorbed in their own business to care if we were strangers.

There was every type of alcohol scattered around, and she took the liberty of pouring me a shot of a clear liquid, which I guessed was vodka. She warned me to drink it in one gulp, and when the warmth hit my throat, I barely managed to avoid coughing. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything.

“Tastes like… strawberry.”

“It’s good, right?” she laughed, giving my shoulder a playful nudge.

Our previous seat was already taken, so she opted for us to stand in a quiet corner. I have to admit that, although I still felt slightly awkward, the vodka was having the desired effect; making me feel more animated to talk.

Talking to her was almost hypnotic. Maybe it was the rhythmic movement of her lips, still stained with traces of what had once been red lipstick, or perhaps it was her tone, but it made me feel like I had to watch her. She never faltered when she spoke, always exuding confidence and calm, no matter the topic.

On the other hand, whenever I responded, I completely lost focus. No matter what I said, she kept looking at me with a wide smile, nodding, and even leaning closer when something made her laugh. But her laugh wasn’t mocking—no, it was as if she genuinely found my intellectual jokes or nonsensical remarks funny.

Gradually, my glass emptied, and she guided me back to the kitchen, serving us moderately but consistently. After an hour, all my nerves had vanished, leaving only a normal guy enjoying the terrible background music, unconcerned about how dirty the place was, and utterly captivated by the woman next to him.

“It’s strange, you know? I didn’t think I’d enjoy something like this. Parties always seemed so… chaotic,”

She looked around with a slight smile.

“That’s true. They’re not exactly calm, but in a way, the chaos has its charm. It lets you leave everything else behind for a while.”

“I suppose you’re right. Sometimes, you just need to disconnect.”

“You seem less tense now, huh? Are you sure it’s not the vodka helping with that?”

She moved closer, almost leaning against my chest in a friendly way, and seeing her looking up at me made my face feel hot.

“Maybe. But it’s also largely due to the company.”

She seemed surprised by my sudden boldness and let out a laugh that I interpreted as a sign of approval. We continued drinking, laughing, and soon my stomach demanded food. Even in my slightly tipsy state, I still remembered that eating would help lessen the effects of the alcohol.

I have to admit that the way I held her waist to guide her to the kitchen was entirely intentional. However, she didn’t seem bothered by the contact. By this point, I’d realized that no one really cared about what we took or didn’t take, so we felt free to rummage through the pantry.

“There are chips, pretzels, Cheetos, some cookies...” she began listing, handing me each package she found.

I grabbed a stray cookie, and suddenly, she let out a sigh of admiration.

“What is it?”

“Chocolate,” she murmured happily. It was a half-eaten, luxurious-looking golden package with no label “Do you want some?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. Chocolate has properties that can slightly boost energy and mood. Both alcohol and chocolate can be hard for the body to handle, especially with a combination of high sugar and alcohol content. This can lead to stomach discomfort, dizziness, or a stronger hangover the next day.”

But she wasn’t listening. She had already popped a sizeable piece of chocolate into her mouth. Immediately, she offered me a piece, slightly bigger than hers.

“You have to try it,” she moaned.

I resisted, but I have to admit that the fact she grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer caught me off guard enough to let her slip the chocolate into my mouth.

“Hey!”

“You’ll thank me later.”

It was delicious, that’s for sure. Like a pair of sneaky raccoons, we kept scavenging for snacks in the kitchen until we were satisfied. She grabbed a bag of chips, and I took the bag of pretzels.

After our little break, she poured us another round of drinks, and something inside me told me it was time to stop. I decided that would be my last glass for the night.

Let’s dance she suddenly whispered, and once again, I let her lead me toward the crowd.

I didn’t know how to dance; I think that was pretty obvious. But the situation managed to make me forget that fact.

She was patient with me and laughed every time I made a mistake. Even though there was smoke around me, probably from weed, that didn't stop me from staring intently, and even somewhat intimidated, at my friend. Beautiful, statuesque, and drunk friend.

We danced for a long time until something in her swaying movements, in the way she smiled at me, began to make my head spin. It was as if the atmosphere was charged with something more—something I couldn’t identify at first.

She leaned closer, and my pulse began to quicken slightly. Her hands rose to tangle in my neck, bringing a warm sensation that followed: my thoughts seemed clearer, sharper. I wondered if it was the alcohol, but then something different began to course through my skin.

The warmth intensified, not just in my body but in my mind as well. I felt more alert, more awake, yet the calmness of the vodka lingered, balancing the sensation. My skin felt more sensitive, as if every little touch sent vibrations through me in a more intense way.

My eyes focused more on her movements, her voice, and the way the air filled with her perfume. I wanted to get closer, as if there were an invisible force pulling me toward her. And though my body responded with a soft yearning, my mind remained present, conscious of every second.

By the way she was looking at me, I imagined I wasn’t the only one experiencing these kinds of emotions.

“Sweetheart.”

“Hmm?”

“Can we sit down for a moment? I’m completely sweaty, and the smell of weed is starting to bother me.”

“Of course.”

My hands rested on her waist, unsure of where else to go, and we stumbled out of the crowd, finding a couch to collapse onto.

I was sweaty too, and we were both breathing heavily. When I saw her lean her head back against the seat, leaving her neck exposed, something stirred inside me.

“You move well, Reid.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I mean it. You just need a little confidence,” she smiled. Perhaps the alcohol dulled her sense of personal space, which is why she leaned so close to me. “You’re so smart that, with a bit of practice, you’d be the most skilled at a lot of physical activities.”

Did she know how nervous she was making me? My face was already flushed from the alcohol, the effort, and now from the way she was looking at me while twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.

I wanted to say something else, but a voice interrupted mine: a tall, burly guy accompanied by two others who seemed to be flanking him. Probably a member of the fraternity hosting the party.

He specifically addressed her, asking how she was enjoying the party and throwing in a compliment, clearly with ulterior motives. For a moment, I felt disheartened. Of course, she could have gone with him and I would have understood. I was far too used to rejection.

“I’m having a great time—with my friend. Thanks,” she exclaimed, cordial but curt.

“Want a drink?”

“Honestly, no.”

By the uncomfortable smile she gave the men, I assumed she was politely ending the conversation. With some reluctance, the guys walked away.

Suddenly, my breath caught when I felt her hand rest on my thigh, sliding painfully slowly down to my knee. I couldn’t even hear her words over the heat of her fingers on my pants.

“Sorry?”

“I thought you were going to say something, earlier.”

“No,” I quickly replied, smiling like an idiot because of the way she had leaned toward me. “Nothing.”

“I like listening to you. You know so many things, and you don’t make me feel dumb when you explain them. That’s very sexy.”

“Sexy?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, because I’d replied in a voice an octave higher than normal. “You are very sexy.”

Her compliment was followed by a soft, distracted kiss on the line of my jaw, which sent my brain into overdrive.

“Uhm… you… you’re beautiful. Very beautiful.”

My clumsy compliment seemed to please her, and I felt one of her nails, long and painted black, tracing circles on the skin of my knee. Each small movement felt deliberate, as if she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Did you know fireflies don’t just glow to communicate but also to… attract?”

Her voice broke the silence between us, soft but layered with a double meaning that made me lift my eyes to her.

“Yes, I know,” I responded automatically, my brain switching to autopilot. “Bioluminescent signals are a form of courtship. The light patterns vary by species and can be very specific.”

She turned her head toward me, her lips curving into a lazy smile.

“Of course you’d know that. But tell me something—do you think it actually works? Making someone notice you just by glowing?”

My throat went dry. There was something about the way she was looking at me, like she was expecting a more personal answer than a scientific one.

“I guess it depends on who you’re trying to attract,” I murmured, feeling ridiculously exposed under her gaze.

“That makes sense.”

Her hand slid slightly—barely noticeable—toward the edge of my knee. After tapping her fingers on my pants, she withdrew it.

She didn’t move from the couch, and neither did I. There was something about her posture that held me captive—the way she leaned back against the seat, relaxed yet naturally elegant. Her dress had ridden up slightly along her thighs, revealing more skin than I felt prepared to handle at that moment. I tried to look elsewhere, but it was as if my eyes had a will of their own, always returning to the same place.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with a hint of amusement.

“Yes, of course,” I replied quickly, turning my head in the other direction. Perhaps too quickly, because my neck cracked slightly in the process.

She didn’t say anything, but her suppressed laughter made me feel even more awkward. In the silence that followed, I forced myself to focus on something safer: the empty glass on the table, the flickering lights through the window, anything but the curve of her leg or the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

“It’s hot, isn’t it?” she commented suddenly, with almost theatrical casualness. Then, without warning, she leaned forward as if to adjust her shoe, causing the neckline of her dress to dip even further.

“Do you think so?” I muttered, my voice raspier than I intended.

She smiled, a gesture somewhere between innocence and knowing.

“Yes, definitely. Though maybe it’s because we’re sitting so close,” she said, glancing around as if she had only just noticed the temperature.

Her words felt like both a slap and a caress at the same time. I tried to keep my gaze fixed on her face, but it didn’t help that her eyes shone with a kind of mischievous intent. Then she lifted one leg, bending it to get more comfortable on the couch, and her knee accidentally brushed against my thigh.

“Did you know you have a very particular way of distracting yourself?” she remarked while toying with the hem of her dress, as if unaware of the chaos she was causing in my head.

“Do I?” my voice sounded weak, almost a whisper.

She nodded slowly, leaning in a bit closer until I could feel the warmth of her proximity.

“Yes. It’s like you’re trying to avoid something but… you can’t.”

My throat went dry. I wanted to say something clever, to steer the conversation away, anything to regain some ground. But instead, all that came out was a nervous, forced laugh.

She didn’t stop looking at me. Then, with exasperating slowness, she smoothed the fabric of her dress over her thigh—a casual gesture.

“You know, sometimes you seem so self-aware. It’s something that can be endearing, but also… well, how do I put it?” she paused for a moment, bringing a finger to her lips as if she were reflecting. “It makes you seem easier to impress.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s nothing, Reid. It’s just me rambling” her voice softened, and I felt the lightest touch on my nose as her finger grazed it. I tried to ignore the fact that her gaze had lingered on my lips “Scattered thoughts I have in my head.”

Without warning, she let out a loud exhale and leaned back into the couch, arching her back as if trying to relieve some muscle tension. I know she probably wasn’t aware of the movement, but it was what finally made me lose the little composure I had left.

“I need to use the restroom. Can you give me a moment?”

I escaped. Cowardly, completely, I got up and practically bolted toward the bathroom, desperate for a moment of peace. As soon as I entered, I realized I had an obvious problem in my pants—I was hard as a rock, and that wasn’t good. I looked at myself in the mirror, surprised at how flushed my face was. My pupils were dilated, my lips dry… What the hell was happening to me?

It quickly became clear that she was the reason for my situation.

The alcohol prevented me from feeling the embarrassment I surely deserved, and instead, I felt like my head was spinning. I placed a hand over the fabric of my pants, letting out a frustrated, pained groan.

I stayed there for a while, trying to think of something that would make my erection go away, but nothing worked. A couple of knocks on the door startled me, and that forced me to leave. Once in the hallway, I walked for a bit until I bumped into someone.

“Spencer! I’ve been looking for you. Are you okay?”

“No! I mean, yes… it’s just…”

I needed to think of something quickly—something believable, but not catastrophic. However, it was hard to concentrate with her body so close to mine, mere inches away from her noticing my situation.

“Did you throw up?”

“No, no, it’s not that. It’s nothing. I think the vodka didn’t sit well with me, uh, maybe I got dizzy from dancing, I don’t know. I think it’s best if I leave.”

“Poor thing,” she murmured, pouting “I’ll take you home right now.”

“I can take a cab.”

“Nonsense. That was our agreement, remember? If one of us was in bad shape, the other would take care of them. Plus, I was the one who encouraged you to drink. I’d feel bad if something happened to you.”

She was already putting on her jacket—she’d been holding it, probably suspecting the situation—and tried to find the keys in her pocket. My outstretched hand reminded her that she’d already given them to me earlier.

When she placed her hand on the small of my back to guide me out, my breathing deepened. The sensation of excitement coursed through me in a way I couldn’t ignore. I realized that something in me desperately wanted her. Too much.

It wasn’t an impulsive desire but a subtle one that had been building throughout the night—with every glance, every gesture. Perhaps the vodka had intensified my evident attraction to her, but whatever the reason, it had turned into something far more palpable.

It was almost as if my body was begging me to stop her right then and there, to kiss her recklessly, and maybe, just maybe, ease the relentless ache inside me.

The cool night air made me feel better, and as the noise faded behind us, I began to calm down. I fervently tried to hide the bulge in my pants, but the truth was she didn’t even seem to notice. Then again, it would’ve been strange to catch her staring at my crotch, right?

“Are you sure you’re in a condition to drive?”

“I’ve driven home in far worse states of drunkenness. Don’t worry,” she smiled.

She looked more lucid now, as if her intoxication had vanished in an instant. I decided to trust her abilities.

The drive home was silent, and I kept shifting in my seat, trying to find strategic positions to avoid embarrassment. I guess she attributed my silence to the supposed discomfort I was feeling, as she didn’t try to start a conversation.

She didn’t say anything when she caught me looking at her through the rearview mirror. It was an innocent glance, at least on my part, simply admiring her. Her lips were driving me crazy, her eyes, slightly narrowed from the lack of light and smudged with mascara, seemed the most beautiful to me. I didn’t know what she saw in me, but I think—no, I feel—that it was something she liked.

“Thank you so much for bringing me home… and for everything.”

“Did you have fun?”

“Quite a lot, actually.”

“We should do this more often.”

“Go to university parties?”

“Just go out in general. To a bar, grab some drinks, a coffee, the library if you’d prefer,” she laughed “The place doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re there.”

Was she implying she wanted a date with me? I swallowed hard and looked at her, trying to decipher what she wanted me to do. I couldn’t figure it out.

“I’d like that, yes. We can talk about that later. Thanks again for the ride.”

A kiss on my cheek marked her goodbye, and I rushed out, eager to get inside my apartment. I was about to unlock the building’s door when the sound of a car horn made me turn around.

“Hey, would you mind if I use your bathroom? I’ll be quick,” she promised.

I needed to get to the shower and turn on the cold water, but I didn’t protest when she turned off the car engine.

Almost no one visited me in the apartment, so I kept the space however I pleased. It wasn’t really messy, but there were plenty of things on the desk and several books scattered around.

She entered, as she had said, rushing to the bathroom. It was only then that I dared to put a hand over my pants, swallowing a moan that was about to escape from my throat.

In my limited sexual experiences, nothing like this had ever happened to me, and I wondered what the cause might have been. Alcohol couldn’t be blamed, of course, but it was responsible for ruining my ability to react enough to find another explanation.

The shirt began to feel heavy on me, and almost out of necessity, I undid the first buttons to let myself breathe. I tried to ventilate my skin by tugging at the fabric with the tips of my fingers, but it was useless. I sighed.

I glanced around the room, just wanting to make sure nothing was embarrassing in view, and at that moment, she came out of the bathroom. She looked flushed and had some wet hair, as if she had washed her face.

“You okay?”

“Yes, just… suddenly felt a bit feverish”

“Let me check”

My intentions were purely medical when I cupped her face with one hand, putting the back of the other against her forehead to confirm or deny my suspicions. Of course, I hadn’t considered how close we would be. Or maybe I had, subconsciously, and that’s why I moved forward.

My choice of words wasn't the best either.

“You’re hot,”

“I don’t think it’s as much as you.”

A daring smile slid across her lips, and I held my breath as her fingers traced up to the line of my collarbone, exposed by my shirt.

“Why are you saying that?”

“Don’t you like it?”

“It’s just… I don’t understand it.”

A soft laugh echoed in my ears.

“Well, I think you’re very handsome. Would there be any other reason for that?”

I swallowed deeply. She noticed the movement of my Adam’s apple.

“No… I think… I think not. It’s the most logical thing.”

“Don’t they tell you that often?” she murmured, genuinely confused. I shook my head “That’s a shame.”

Her hand, which had been tentatively caressing my skin, moved up to my neck and pulled me just a few inches closer to her.

“Hey, Spencer.”

“Yes?”

“Could I kiss you?”

A chill ran down my spine. And without thinking, I answered yes.

Her mouth found mine with a softness that contrasted with the whirlwind of sensations inside me. It was a heady contrast: the sweetness of her lips against the intensity of the desire that had been building up in every fiber of my being.

My hands instinctively moved to her waist, hesitating for a moment, as if fearing that this might just be a product of my imagination. But she didn’t hesitate. Her body leaned into me, closing any distance that remained.

Her lips were insistent, demanding, and before I could process what was happening, her hand slid down to my chest, pushing me gently back until my back collided with the wall.

“I’m sorry…” I managed to murmur between kisses, pulling my face slightly away. My voice came out more trembly than I wanted.

She raised an eyebrow, tilting her face toward mine, her fingers now brushing my jawline.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“For this” my gaze dropped quickly before returning to her eyes. “No… I didn’t want you to feel it. It’s embarrassing.”

For a moment, I thought she would pull away, that the spell of the moment would break. But instead, her lips curved into a mischievous smile.

“Embarrassing? I thought I was the only one feeling all this tension,” her tone was low, almost a whisper, but filled with a certainty that made my breath grow even more erratic.

Before I could respond, her lips captured mine again, this time with more intensity. The kiss was everything I didn’t know I needed: desperate, intoxicating, completely consumed by the connection between us. I felt her body press against mine, her curves fitting perfectly as if they were made to be there. And then, all my doubts, all my attempts to hold back, vanished.

My mind was a whirlwind. Every touch of her lips, every time her tongue sought mine, was like a fire I couldn’t put out. My face was hot, yes, but now not because of the alcohol, not even from the effort of holding myself back. It was her closeness, her touch, her condescending voice still echoing in my head.

She knows what she’s doing. And she’s slowly killing me.

“Hey, wait…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you feel okay with this?”

“A lot. Do you want to stop?”

“No. It’s just that… you’ve been drinking. I don’t want you to think I took advantage of you” my voice came out hoarse, full of doubt and repressed desire.

Her eyes met mine, firm and warm at the same time, as if her gaze could completely disarm me.

“Relax. You’ve been drinking too, pretty, and I think if anyone could make that accusation, it would be you. Do you feel like I’m taking advantage of you?”

“No”

“I’m fully aware of everything. I don’t even feel drunk anymore. The only thing that’s making me dizzy right now is you, Spencer…”

I shivered when I heard my name on her lips like that. She continued:

“I’m just as anxious as you are. I’ve been holding back all night, trying not to make this too obvious, but I can’t anymore. Please, don’t doubt me. Don’t doubt what I want. I want you”

Her confession hit my heart like a blow and ignited a spark that set my entire body on fire. My hand moved up her back until it tangled in her hair, while the other rested on her hip. The pull was gentle but enough for her to understand that my inner struggle had ended. I wasn’t resisting this anymore.

I wanted her too. I wanted her now.

“I never imagined…”

My words were barely audible as our lips brushed in a kiss that was both an explosion of emotions and a long-awaited relief. Her mouth was soft, and so perfectly synchronized with mine that I felt like the world stopped at that moment.

Her hands gripped my shoulders, anchoring the connection between us, while my thumb traced a slow path along her jawline, savoring every detail of her skin. It was more than a kiss. It was the confirmation of something that had been lingering all evening.

When we parted just a centimeter to breathe, our foreheads stayed pressed together.

“Did that clear your doubts?”

“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say all that,” I replied with a weak smile, the only one my pounding heart allowed me to form.

“Then stop overthinking”

The space between us disappeared again as we kissed with desperation we had both been suppressing. Her low laugh vibrated against my lips, and I couldn’t help but smile. How did she do it? How did she drive me crazy with so little effort?

But now wasn’t the time for questions. It was time to feel.

The whole world had reduced itself to him: his warm breath, his lips that wavered between soft and desperate, and the hands that roamed my waist with a mix of reverence and clumsiness, making me want him even more. Spencer had always been an enigma to me, a balance between restraint and passion that I didn't know how to decipher... until now.

I had waited for this moment more than I would ever admit. Maybe it had been the way he looked at me when he thought I didn't notice, or the warmth in his voice when he said my name, as if it were something sacred. But now, with his body pressed against mine and his doubts finally gone, I knew I hadn't imagined anything.

It was as if the pieces of a puzzle I had been trying to put together in the dark finally clicked into place, and the resulting image was more beautiful than I had ever dreamed.

Wanting to reverse the roles, it was now him who gently pushed me against the wall, and I felt the control he always seemed to have begin to crack. His breath was heavy, his body trembling slightly, a sign that this was as new and overwhelming for him as it was for me.

"Spencer..." I murmured his name again, feeling it resonate in my chest at the same time his lips moved more intensely against mine. "Can I ask you something?"

I received an affirmative exhalation, and to let me speak, his lips moved to the hollow of my neck. Although my mouth was free, the soft and wet kisses I was receiving blurred my judgment a bit.

"Tell me”

"Did you really feel bad at the party? Or was it just..."

"I didn't want you to notice what you were doing to me. Although I think at this point it doesn't matter much, right?"

Contrary to what I expected, Spencer pushed his hips against mine, as if he wanted to prove that it was true. I could even call it a claim, something that said: look what you did to me. And I wanted him to know just how much my body was begging for him.

Carefully, I moved one of his hands from my waist, and before he could protest, I guided it to one of my thighs, dangerously close to my core. I was glad I had thought of lingerie as a great complement to my dress, maybe in an attempt to feel sexy even if no one saw it. But now, he was going to see it.

Spencer understood my silent request. Those long, slender fingers, which seemed made for more than just flipping through the pages of a book or scribbling frantic notes on paper, slid across my smooth skin. I sighed as I remembered the veins tracing a map under his fair skin, like rivers of contained energy.

Until they finally reached where I needed them. And his touch... God, his touch was something else. They were hands made for discovery, for holding, for exploring, but in those moments, they seemed to be made only for me.

Spencer wasn't an overly bold guy, so it didn't surprise me that he just traced shapes above my panties, as if he wanted to diagnose my anatomy before making any move. My sighs at his ear seemed to please him.

Suddenly, he stopped kissing me, and I huffed, since I liked the attention he was giving my shoulder, until I felt his lips drop just slightly. A loud, pathetic moan escaped me when he squeezed my tits while burying his face to leave an experimental kiss.

I was barely processing that when he knelt in front of me and, carefully, took the edge of my dress and lifted it.

My legs trembled with anticipation at the thought of what he was going to do next, and then I felt his lips brush my thigh. He started gentle, kind, but soon he began sucking every bit of skin he could, and in the end, he made sure to leave bites strong enough to make me whimper.

Who would have thought that this man, seemingly so inexperienced, turned out to offer the best foreplay a woman could desire?

I squealed as I felt his kisses trail down to the fabric of my panties, pausing for a moment to lick the length of my still-clothed pussy.

“You’re dripping wet,” he observed. I was too focused on not giving in right then and there to say anything "Is oral something you're into?"

“I don’t know,” I exclaimed honestly. I didn’t care how vulnerable I looked as I confessed that no man had ever dared to give me head “You?”

“It’s an idea that piques my curiosity, yes.”

Gently he slid some of the fabric aside to clear the way for his tongue, and I felt as if my entire body was only aware of the parts he was probing, kissing, sucking. When he raised my thigh to shoulder height, deepening his thrusts, I felt like I was going to pass out.

I lowered my hand to his thick head and tried, in vain, to push him away from me. I honestly didn’t have the strength or desire to do so, much less when he had picked up the pace.

I moaned a sweet nickname out loud and then Spencer pulled away, looking up at me with glossy, swollen lips.

“Take me to bed, please.”

He didn’t need me to say it twice as he immediately stood up and took me by the waist to guide me to said spot. I was able to taste myself on his lips and for some reason that only turned me on.

Once we hit the mattress the way he laid me down was gentle and I sighed at that. How could he be so sweet all the time? I wondered. And worse yet, how much would this little adventure affect my future expectations?

Because if it was about standards, I was finding out that Spencer Reid was the standard.

Seemingly more enthralled now by my lips than my pussy, he continued with the make-out session we were having. With each touch we had, my excitement was increasing more and more. In the midst of it all I managed to unbutton his shirt and take it off to leave it somewhere on the bed; the semi-darkness of the room shielded any insecurities he might be feeling, as well as my own.

“You are painfully stunning, did you know?”

My tone was one of reproach, and he laughed at that, looking down almost embarrassed. Maybe he wasn't used to compliments, but something told me he was definitely enjoying it.

I heard him murmur something under his breath about me, while he took down the straps of my dress. My hands almost instinctively went to unbuckle his belt, and before I could do anything, he pulled away from me. Needless to say, this left me confused.

"Sorry, I..."

“You don't want to?” I murmured understandingly. I thought maybe he wasn't a big fan of these situations, and I understood, but somehow I felt hurt.

"No! Sure I want to. I want it a lot, but..." he tried not to look at me, as if avoiding confrontation "It's just that I don't have any protection here”

A laugh escaped my lips, and I feared he might interpret it as mockery, so I stretched my neck to steal another kiss.

"One would think there are many girls who pass through these sheets."

"Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not making fun of you. It's cute, actually. It even makes me feel guilty," I murmured, smiling "For a second, I was afraid something had made you uncomfortable."

"No, it's not that."

I hesitated for a second whether I should suggest what was on my mind.

"We could do it like this. It doesn't bother me."

"It's not just about avoiding an unwanted pregnancy..." he began. At that moment, I saw him return to his usual nerdy mode. "Although, of course, that counts. But there are things like sexually transmitted infections, some of which don't even show symptoms at first and could complicate things if not detected on time. I know this doesn't sound very attractive, but believe me, protection isn't just for avoiding future problems; it's also to take care of you now, so you don't have issues later: because sometimes men can transmit diseases we're asymptomatic for, and to be honest, I've never done those kinds of tests. A lot of people don't think about it, but the risks are real. And don't get me wrong, I trust you, but even though you trust me, diseases don't discriminate. And I'd like us both to have that peace of mind. Prevention is never too much."

“You conflict me deeply. On the one hand, I admire how responsible you are; it's very cute. But on the other hand, I just urgently need you to fuck me deep and cum inside me”

Spencer was surprised by my desperate whining and tensed when I placed one of my legs around his waist, trying to persuade him. But I was even more surprised when I felt him pull completely away to stand beside the bed.

"Where are you going?"

"To the pharmacy," he announced, putting a jacket over his bare torso.

"Are you serious?" I laughed widely, sitting on the bed now that my companion had moved away.

"Definitely. I feel like I can't handle it any longer, it’s physically painful, and when you talk to me like that, it just drives me crazy” he groaned, joining in the fun. It was the first time something like this happened, and I honestly thought it was absolutely hilarious “I'll be back in a minute, I swear! Please, don't go...”

"I couldn't," I murmured sweetly. He came closer, and I took the opportunity to kiss him again "Be quick. I'll be waiting anxiously for you."

Something in my tone of voice affected the man, or maybe it was the wink I gave him, but I saw him bolt out the door. I flopped back onto the bed, taking a moment to digest what was happening.

I have to admit that my classmate had always been attractive to me, but I never thought he could feel the same way. Not even in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I would be waiting for him in his bed so that, with any luck, he could ravish me without holding back.

As I reached out my arms, I could feel the fabric of the shirt I had previously removed from him, and then I brought it up to my nose, inhaling without thinking. A familiar scent hit me immediately: the mix of sweet cocktails he had drank during the party and a subtle trace of cannabis, as if the night was still impregnated in him. I could distinguish a hint of wood, perhaps from the furniture in the place, combined with a light scent of sweat that was not bothersome, but rather natural. And then, among all that, there was his perfume: a citrus and spicy aroma that evoked something fresh, but also deep, sensual, as if every molecule of his being was waiting for something more. I breathed harder, feeling that this aroma, this moment, defined him.

I didn't know why that particular night my whole body was screaming for his closeness. I was crazy about him and it wasn't the alcohol's fault, because I'd had too many drinks to know. Neither of us had ever done drugs and for a moment I was terrified by the idea that I could want to be with someone like that, with such fervor that it was worrying.

Still dizzy from the excitement of the moment, I lowered one of my hands to my crotch to get rid of my panties. I thought about him, wondering how skilled he was. Not that I doubted his abilities, but just like I’d told him that night, he might need some practice.

I started to fantasize about helping him through this situation, maybe guiding him or pampering him by just asking him to lay back so I could do all the work. Spencer was the kind of man who invited you to please him, the kind of man you wanted to satisfy because he never pressured you into it.

Playing with myself, I sniffed his shirt again, desperately wishing I could have the source of said scent with me, until my brain was filled only with daydreams in which he was the protagonist and my fingers were replaced by his. That's why I didn't notice when he opened the apartment. And that's why I didn't know he was watching me from the door frame until I heard him let out a ragged sigh.

Being caught in that position made me feel embarrassed at first, but the way he practically lunged at me and kissed me more decisively than before, I figured he liked seeing me like that.

"Busy?"

I was caught off guard by his sassiness and I knew he was proud of it by the smile I felt on my neck.

“I guess you found what we need, right?”

“Uh-huh”

“Have you read any books on female anatomy?”

“Quite a few”

“So I guess you know a lot about sexuality, don’t you?”

“In theory, yes. Unfortunately, I haven’t had many opportunities to put it into practice.”

A smile spread across my face, which luckily he couldn't see because he was too busy leaving a trail of kisses along the top of my torso.

“How unfortunate, considering you’re a scientist. I wouldn’t mind becoming an object of your study, though, you know?”

He subtly slid the straps of my dress and revealed my bra, from which a considerable part of my boobs protruded, which he happily kissed.

At the same time his hand came down to caress me, making me shiver with anticipation, resting on just the right spots. It was the least I could expect from such an intellectual man, one who definitely knew about the thousands of nerve endings concentrated in my clitoris, which he was definitely tapping into to satisfy me.

“May I?” he whispered, looking at the little underwear he still had on.

I nodded immediately and arched my back to make it easier for him to unbutton it, which didn't take too long. He was practically worshipping every inch of my skin, which, combined with his gentle yet firm fingers rubbing me, was driving me crazy.

We both moaned in unison as he pushed a finger into me. It felt just as good as I had imagined.

I had read somewhere that, physiologically, women need more time to achieve an orgasm and although none of my exes had cared about that, this one seemed to know that fact. Maybe that was why he was giving me such attention, which I was undoubtedly grateful for.

“Honey…” I choked out “you’re doing great, really, really good, but would you mind if we replaced those fingers? I want to feel you inside me,” I practically begged.

I never begged, I felt like a fool doing it, but if that got me the intensity of the kiss he gave me, I wouldn't mind starting to do it.

Spencer pulled away from me, searching for the packet of condoms he'd run off to get, and while he unbuttoned his pants I got rid of my dress, which by this point was just a mass of fabric around my waist.

My body wasn't perfect, but I figured that wouldn't matter to him. Besides, I doubt he'd be rude enough to mention it.

“Need a hand?” I joked playfully, noticing that he was struggling to open the silver package.

“I’m sorry, I’m just a little nervous,” he said to himself, hoping I wouldn’t mind too much.

I wanted to reward him for treating me so well a few moments ago and I took the package from his hands, placing my palm on his chest until I laid him down against the mattress. Once in that position it wasn't difficult to get rid of the wrapping to place the piece of latex on him, thinking that I didn't have a single complaint about his body.

My hands on him made him nervous and I watched him turn into a mess as I began pumping his cock up and down to make sure he had the condom on properly.

“You don’t have to hold back. I like the sounds you make,” I exclaimed in a velvety tone, trying to sound as genuine as possible “That way I know you’re enjoying it.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to hold out for much longer,” he confessed, as my hand continued to move along his length. Although I wished I could take better care of him, I understood the situation.

“Your wish is my command”

He didn't complain when I put each leg on his sides and he bravely hardened as I teased him for a moment before sinking my pussy onto his dick. I started slow, trying to make him last as long as possible, but with each second it was getting harder to keep up a pace.

I tried my best to ride him, trying to give him the best experience as a thank you for all his hospitality. And from the whimpers coming out of his throat I assume I was doing my job well.

At some point his hands ended up on my hips, guiding me as he pleased. Sometimes he pushed me down, as if he wanted to get to the bottom of me, and other times he manipulated me so that the thrusts were fast.

He wasn't lying when he said he would cum in no time, as the repressed desire added to the previous sexual actions had him on the edge of the abyss. I knew he had reached orgasm when he closed his eyes and his hips slammed against me, in erratic movements.

I kept riding him a little longer, chasing my own climax, and when I got it I put my hands against his chest, arching in pleasure. Spencer, breathing heavily, grabbed my wrists in his hands and then pulled me so that I was against his torso, my lips too close to his.

He placed his palm on my cheek and pulled me in his direction, seemingly asking for a kiss. I granted it.

“Are you satisfied?”

“I am,” I sighed wryly. It was cute that he didn’t know that sometimes girls don’t even make it. “How was it for you?”

“I'm speechless.”

I laughed and, to a certain extent, felt flattered that I had left a man who knew a million ways to express himself in that state.

We enjoyed the high we had just had for a few minutes and waited for our breathing to slow down; when our sighs took the same rhythm, he spoke again.

“You should go to the bathroom. It’s, uh… healthy for you to do it after every encounter.”

I reached for the garment he had been wearing and, trying to protect myself from the cold air, I put it on over myself.

“Do you mind lending it to me?”

“Nu-huh,” he hummed, eyeing me as if I were a cupcake. I would later learn how affected he was to see me using his clothes to slide out of bed.

When I came out of the bathroom he already had his boxers on, probably wanting to maintain modesty, and when he went to attend to his needs I also looked for my panties. It wasn't long before he returned to keep me company.

“Do you want to cuddle? I’d feel like a whore if I just left”

“Yes, of course I want”

He made sure to throw anything that was on the bed onto the floor and patted the pillows to make them more comfortable. I settled into the space next to him, leaning against his chest, right at heart level.

One of his arms was holding me from behind and in some strange way that made me feel safe; protected.

“Your feet are frozen, are you cold?”

"Not much"

“Do you want me to get you some socks?”

“I’m fine, Spencer,” I laughed softly. I brushed my cheek against his skin and tried to snuggle closer to him. “It’ll just get colder if you leave.”

“Did you know that the human body is incredibly efficient at maintaining its temperature? When two bodies are nearby, like… now,” he paused, settling a little closer to me, “heat transfer occurs due to thermal radiation and direct conduction. Essentially, each body generates heat that helps the other maintain a stable core temperature.”

“So you’re like a human blanket”

“That’s right. In fact, in situations of severe hypothermia, sharing body heat in this way can literally save lives.”

I raised my head to look at him and noticed an excited gleam in his eyes, the one he always had when he shared something from his vast knowledge.

“I’ve been thinking quite a bit about what you said earlier, about female anatomy,” seeing him frown, I continued, “No field of study considers one experimentation enough, right? Everything needs to be replicated two, three, four times. Ten times if necessary.”

“Your guess is quite accurate.”

“Say no more. We must give everything if it is in the name of science”

From the smile on his face, I knew that my joke had pleased him and that my proposal seemed to please him. To seal the deal I reached up and kissed him softly. We remained silent for a while, him caressing me over his own shirt and me enjoying the closeness.

“I like you a lot”

“I had a feeling,” I teased, earning a soft laugh from him “I really like you, too."

He pressed a kiss to my forehead and for some stupid reason a blush crept up my cheeks, even though we had just had sex. I carefully placed myself on top of his body and buried my face in his neck, feeling him hug me around the waist.

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, I could tell by how calm his breathing was becoming, and I tried to enjoy the peace he emanated a little longer, until, eventually, Morpheus picked me up in his arms too.

@spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @shuichiakainx @gghostwriter @cafters @weallhaveadestiny @your-left-sock @jaeminsmilk @tmrs-basilisk @kristennotstewart @lostinwonderland314 @f4tpo3s @lortheswiftie @dark-unicorn222 @samsienichole @blackholegladiator @gretaandthatsit @cherrysprlte @halfbloodwriter @piercethefic @reidingandallthat @ariel-23-19 @zorrasucia @ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat @juluina @kylakins88 @tinainaction @sadroses98 @dumbbunnys-safes @bowerfeithwk @freyafriggafrey

Thank you very much for your interest! I hope you liked it, if you feel like it, let me know what you think :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía #david rossi #emily prentiss #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid spicy #spencer reid imagine

406 notes · View notes

shoresoftheshadowlands · 2 days ago

Text

For me this is part of my aversion to small-talk and verbal chatting. If its in text, I can usually glance back right away at what was said. When its verbal, I have to struggle so hard and I get headaches quickly trying to hold everything together. It isn't anything against anyone trying to talk to me, it's just I cannot follow it, especially if people are talking too slow, or being too roundabout on what they're trying to convey, which I know is part of the art of small talk. I know its an important skill to have, but damn, it sucks.

It's even worse when it isn't small talk but some kind of lecture I'm getting for some reason, especially when it's complete BS (I live in a household of far rights, if you know you know), or if it's something that is a non issue that, for some reason 'today', it is suddenly their problem (For example, I organize the space behind my desk in a way that works for ME. It is in MY room which I pay rent for. It may look disorganized at first glance but isn't actually messy. Got a lecture today about how I must clean up and organize and so on because partner is coming to visit.

And I basically just said 'Look, this is organized in a way that works for me,' (I did not bother trying to explain how or why it does because it wouldn't matter in the long run trust me) and I explained that anything that does need tidying up I've already begun working on (Which she did not notice whatsoever, and instead got on my ass about 'all the dishes and stuff' which are clean, or was a take out container I'd only just been using moments prior to her walking in so it wasn't like it was sitting here moldy) Queue the 'Well I know you love me but I am beginning to suspect you don't like me very much!' because I am short and to the point and we've done this dance countless times and I'm so tired. I say 'While I'm gone please DO NOT DECORATE MY ROOM FOR ME.'

I come home. Wow, looks like my room is decorated! And there's nick-nacks and shit in place of where my things need to go! Great! I hate it! Exactly what I asked you not to do! COOL! I'm so glad you value your 37 year old disabled adult child's wishes and boundaries!

But even trying to maintain a conversation about it, verbally because her reading comprehension is shit and she doesn't understand what I'm saying even when I write it down very clearly, we are always at an impass of 'wow this lecture is going on for so long I don't even know how we started' or 'nod and agree, it will be over sooner'

the curse of adhd:

i will remember with absolute clarity, when the thought strikes me that i have a text to send someone, that this is the fourth time in three days i've attempted to send this specific text

i will forget, in the time it takes me to pick up my phone, that i picked it up intending to send a text

44K notes · View notes

archangeldyke-all · 3 days ago

Note

imagine isha doing that thing that mute kids sometimes do, where they suddenly say a word/sentence or two out loud n then go back to being completely mute for a few years. imagine you’re tucking her in like “ily isha, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite” and she goes “ok. goodnight. mac & cheese.” and you never hear her talk again

also i love your writing 🩷🩷

this is so fucking funny god

men and minors dni

jinx has always claimed that isha speaks to her on occasion. you and sevika are always skeptical. a lot of isha's squeaks can sound like words-- and jinx tends to hear voices that aren't really there more than most people.

it takes a year of living together before one of you catches it in person.

sevika runs into the kitchen so fast she almost knocks over a chair. "babe, babe!" she says with a giddy smile. you giggle.

"what?"

"isha-- she just talked!" sevika laughs. "she doesn't know i heard her-- she was puttin' her socks on and her toe popped out of a hole, and she went; 'awe fuck!'" sevika imitates.

you burst into laughter. "are you sure?! you didn't just mishear one of her little grunts?"

"babe, i know what i heard. i read about this, y'know. sometimes, mute kids just randomly talk. and jinx said she's heard it before! i guess... i guess she really liked those socks!" sevika cackles. "you shoulda heard her little voice cursin' baby, oh my god!" sevika can't stop laughing.

for a long time, you don't quite believe her story. you're sure your wife thought she heard your kid curse, but you aren't convinced that isha can talk at all.

until she talks to you.

almost two years after sevika claims she hears isha talk, you're tucking her into bed like any other night. isha's pointing out various poisonous frog species to you in her favorite 'dangerous animals' book, and you're playing with her hair, kissing her head occasionally.

"if i was a poision dart frog, i think i'd be pink and purple. what about you?"

isha taps her chin while she considers your question, then signs with a smile. blue and yellow! you laugh. of course she'd pick her favorite colors.

"nice. what do you think jinx and big mama would be?"

jinxie is blue and purple and big mama is green!

"you've got it all figured out, huh?"

isha nods with a yawn. you chuckle.

"alright-- i think it's bedtime. c'mon, get comfy." isha hands her book to you and crawls under her covers. when she settles, she scrunches her face just a bit and lets out a fart. you giggle. "got your dutch oven going, huh?" you ask. she laughs.

"do frogs fart?" isha asks.

you freeze, staring at isha as she blinks up at you with big eyes, waiting for an answer. "wh-- did you--"

do they? she signs.

you burst into laughter and pull isha into your arms. "i have no idea!" you laugh. "oh my god!" isha giggles in your arms, confused by your reaction but enjoying the barrage of kisses you're giving her regardless. "i love you so much you silly little girl."

isha gets sick of your cuddles, elbowing you and signing. look it up on your phone! she whines. you cackle.

"okay, okay!" you laugh as you pull out your phone to google isha's question.

sevika and jinx are never going to believe this.

or... maybe they will.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb

#sevika #sevika arcane #sevika imagine #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

390 notes · View notes

bluem1lls · 3 days ago

Note

HEYY, I LOVE UR WRITINGG

i have an idea where thanos flirts with reader and immediately reject him, giving him a dirty look or just being rude to him. se-mi is around there so when reader sees her their entire expression changes, giving her a smile or something like that idk 😭

it doesn't have to be exact to that, just take the idea of u like it and use it however u want!!

✦ content: short fluff, how you met your girlfriend at the game while rejecting her friend!

✦ authors note: thank you so much! i was just rewatching and i kept thinking about this idea so i wrote a short fluff, i hope you like it! thank you for your request♥️

⋆｡°✩ ever since the games started, you've been along player 120 and player 095. until the third game, where you lost them out of sight. as you heard "group of 5", you kept thinking that maybe this was your last round.

⋆｡°✩ i mean there was nothing else to do.. right?

⋆｡°✩ until a girl pulled your hand, and somehow you ended up in a room with a purple hair guy, his weird best friend, this girl and a guy who seemed to be her friend.

⋆｡°✩ she leaned against the wall, catching her breath, crossing her arms on her chest while staring at you. she has nice piercings.

⋆｡°✩ "well, well, well... look at what the wind brought us. a new friend" the purple haired guy spoke, looking at me. "i'm thanos, and who brought this pretty thing?"

you rolled my eyes, trying to copy the brunnete's position.

turning your head to look at her, her piercing gaze stays on you.

"thanks..."

"se-mi" she introduced herself.

"i thought i was about to die out there, thanks se-mi" i said to the girl.

she nodded, thano's best friend chuckled.

"we've been trying to get her name for days, but a pretty girl shows up and that's the first thing she tells her"

i snort as she rolls her eyes and scoffs, mumbling something that sounded like "idiot".

⋆｡°✩ of course you couldn't stop talking to her after the third game ended.

⋆｡°✩ eating with her, chatting and even laughing. it was easy to forget about everything when you were with her.

⋆｡°✩ but sadly, you could never find her alone. if she didn't had min-su following her around, thanos and nam-gyu were teasing her. so that meant you always had to chat with them too, as you tried (really hard) to get her alone.

⋆｡°✩ "doll face, came to hear your boy throwing a few lines?" thanos said getting closer to where me and se-mi were sitting down.

"oh my god" i covered my face as i hear her laughing. "i like talking to you so much, but i dont know if it's worth... this" i pointed at thanos.

she smiled, her arm sneaked to rest on my shoulders.

"it's worth every penny. althought you may wanna tell him that you're not really going for boys" she whispered in my ear. i softly laughed as i stare at her. she's so pretty. and her friends so annoying.

"prettiest girls in the planet, listen out, this one's for you-" thanos started.

"listen" i cut him mid-sentence. "you're such a fun, amazing guy" i said, standing up and placing my hands on his shoulder. "and i bet any girl would be so lucky dating you"

he nodded, proud of himself, as se-mi stared smirking.

"but i think there's something that would make you even a better person" i said looking at him, straight in the eyes. "leave to a corner and please let me have ten minutes alone so i can flirt with se-mi"

⋆｡°✩ his expression quickly fell as se-mi and nam-gyu snorted.

"so im not about to be your boy-"

"you're not. i'm not into guys, thanos. but you're...so...nice"

⋆｡°✩ he quickly understood. apparently. at least he went away along with his best friend. it was more than enough.

⋆｡°✩ "so.. can we go back to the flirting part?" se-mi said, her smile never fading as she played with her lip piercing.

"yeah, i think we finally can" i said, dragging her to sit with me in one of the beds.

⋆｡°✩ no need to clarify anything else. the guys understood when the next time they saw you, se-mi was hugging you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder.

⋆｡°✩ se-mi couldn't stop teasing thanos for falling for two times for two lesbians girls, which always ended up with him telling her how he'd release a rap called 'revenge is sweeter than girls' against her once they were out of here.

⋆｡°✩ you believe him. you'll hear more about it once you're out of here, holding your girlfriend's hand.

#se mi x reader #se-mi x reader #player 380 x reader #player 380 #se-mi #se mi #squid games #squid games 2 #squid games x reader #lesbian #wlw #fluff

315 notes · View notes

dafna-mir · 3 days ago

Text

Lol, what if Danny stays a cat because it's easier for him

….

Damian had been an older brother for six months now. That's quite a lot, although it doesn't compare to the fact that Danyal was one for almost 9 full years in Damian's life.

There's nothing wrong with that, because considering that his younger brother was in the form of a cat all the time, he'll be able to catch up in a moment.

…

Tim was Danny's secret favorite. Probably because he was the first to give a gift on arrival.

Damian can respect this, and reserves for Timothy the right to escape from the battlefield and not be disgraced.

As an older brother, he won't do any more favors.

…

Well, that mission was disgusting.

They took his weapon away from him and told him to "stay out"

Ugh, Father is getting more and more paranoid, not giving him a chance to prove himself.

Disgusting and unpleasant.

Danyal goes with him to the kitchen, all the while trying to get his point across.

Despite the fact that Damian had learned feline, cats spoke body language. And he deliberately ignores Danyal.

He bursts into the kitchen, where only Tim is sitting, having just returned from work.

Well, him don't care about him. At Tim, at his father, and at his mother, who decided that he was better off with his father.

— Damian! — he doesn't pay attention, pouring water, — Damian Al'Ghul, I said "no"!

He turns to look at his brother.

Danyal was leaning on the table with both hands, wearing a Nightwing hoodie… He was older than when Damian had seen him. Naturally, almost four years have passed… And..

— Did you steal my hoodie?

Danyal straightened up, putting his hands on his hips

— I bought it at the comicon, it's mine… Wait, do you have a Nightwing hoodie too?

— I wanted to go with Wonder Woman, but they sold out, — Damian shrugs, gulping down a glass of water, — And anyway... — he glances at Timothy, who froze with a half-eaten cookie, looking at him and then at his younger brother, — Timothy, I'm going to start a rebellion against my father's tyranny, and go to Sweden, I need an escort, do you have anyone in mind?

— I can be an escort! — Danyal hits the table again, — This is a family event, we don't need anyone else.

— Last time you became a cat

— Just think, — Danyal waves his hand, as if it were something unreal, — Oh, give Jason!

— Todd will find some kind of cult again, and disappear for a week.

— Cass?

— She's in Hong Kong.

— Tim?

— I don't want him to lose any organs again!

— How do you know that? — Timothy, who had been watching the exchange for a while, started up like a baby bird.

— Grandpa was bragging,— Danyal answers instead, sitting down on a chair, — Alfred?

Damian thinks about it. Alfred is not a good option. He's perfect… Did he agree to this for the sake of rebellion?

— Tim, do you want to go to Norway? Danyal asked, grabbing one of the cookies from Timothy's pack.

—Weren't you going to Sweden?

— Yes, it doesn't matter where, as long as it's there! — his beloved brother noticed, eating a cookie in one bite.

— Okay, I'll go, — Tim said, finishing his expired coffee, — I'm also "rebelling" against Bruce, — he made the picks, and when he got up, he looked directly at Damian, — I'll ask Alfred and Jason if they want to.

Damian opened the door to his room and walked in, the door slipping shut behind him as his brother jumped down from his shoulders to the floor and smoothly slipping into a stretch before moving over to and jumping onto their bed.

"We're going to be living with father." Damian stated, not that he needed to.

"Mrroow." Was his answer.

Damian frowned, tilting his head to the side a smidge as he walked over to the bed. "Are you not pleased?" He asked, watching as Daniel rolled over onto his back, paws hanging in the air as he huffed. "Father is a great man, it only makes sense that Mother would send us to him one day. I believed you had already expected this."

"Meow."

Damian's frown shifted back to his neutral scowl, before humming in acknowledgement.

"Ah, you are upset that you won't be claiming the inheritance?" Damian snorted, crossing his arms as he looked down at his younger brother. "You lost the battle, dear brother. Naturally, the title of Robin falls to me." He stated, uncrossing his arms and slipping off one of his gloves to flick Danny on the nose.

It was Daniel's turn to snort, before he snagged a finger between his teeth and bite down hard enough to draw blood.

Damian's eyebrows furrowed the slightest bit.

Daniel looked up at him innocently as he licked the wound he made with his tongue.

Damian sighed.

"You're lucky you are rather adorable, little brother." He said, moving his fingers to rub beneath Danny's chin. To which he let out a content purr as Damian's expression settled back to neutrality.

"How do you want me to refer to you?" He asked after a few moments, causing Danny to look up at him curiously from where he was laid out, his brother's hand over his stomach. Damian tilted his head slightly. "Brother-in-arms, or my brother?"

"Miao."

"Pick one, Daniel." Damian stated, pausing the belly rubs to look at his brother before resuming when a paw patted against his wrist lightly. "I am not allowing them to refer to you as a simple pet."

Danny gave him a flat look, before huffing.

Damian hummed.

"You're right," Damian nodded. "Being underestimated would be useful against Father's false children. It would do well to have more cards to pick off our competition." He said slowly, looking into Danny's eyes. "But are you certain? There is a chance they would believe us."

Danny reached up to swat Damian's cheek lightly with his paw, a look equally as flat as the first being sent his way.

"Hm." Alright, Damian would give him this one. "You're right, if even Grandfather and Mother doubts that you truly are my brother, then the chances of Father believing so are low."

Daniel let out a smug purr, happy that Damian saw his way.

Damian let out a sigh.

His brother truly was lucky that he was the most adorable creature Damian had ever laid his eyes upon. Of course, his little brother was undeniably the cutest before his death, yet coming back as a cat (that as far as Mother, Grandfather, and the rest of the League were concerned. Was merely a pit creature that had taken a liking to their heir)?

Well.

Damian wasn't one to complain about his brother's return.

No matter what form he takes.

#the title of the eldest brother in the Damian family is passed on to the one who is in the best shape #Jason the younger Damian and the older Danny #these three do not understand (or have forgotten) the concept of age at all #Tim just wants to live #Cat–brother really a brother #not a joke #Bruce just wants a vacation #why did his children go to England without him????#dp x dc #dc x dp #i don't know a word for english #danny fenton #damien wayne

2K notes · View notes

nerdlvr · 19 hours ago

Text

"come in, come in!" a familiar face greeted him, only this time with his hair dyed pink, "jaemin... right?"

he smiled as the boy's face lit up, cheeks matching his hair.

"the hair's nice by the way." he pointed up to his hair, watching as jaemin's smile dropped, "i will make out with you if you let me-"

"enough-" renjun, the short one, stopped jaemin, poking his side to make him go away, "excuse him, he's a little-" he shot jaemin a cold glare, hushing his whines, "deranged-"

"oh my goodness!" your soft yell filled the living space, heat rising to his cheeks at the sound of you.

"my kitty!" he smiled in your direction, lifting an awkward hand to greet you.

"my hyuckie! i'm so glad you could make it!" you strode towards him, arms quickly wrapping around his waist to pull him in for a hug.

he was stiff of course, but he tried his best to wrap his arms around your shoulders, pulling you against him. his eyes moved down to look at you, ignoring the glances jaemin and renjun exchanged.

"you know i'll always come when you call." you lifted your gaze, chin pressing against his chest as you spoke, "and i'll always only call for you baby."

he chuckled nervously, clearing his throat as you detached from him, slightly readjusting his pants.

"so how are we gonna study?"

you only just now noticed his full bag, textbooks sticking out from the top, "uhhh, i had more of a hands on approach- come with me!" you reached your arm out, squeezing softly as he took your hand.

your slippers scraped across the floor as you led him towards your room, door swinging open as soon as you both approached.

"donghyuck-ah! you're here- oh that outfit-" she reached for the fabric of his t-shirt, "lets get you changed- yes?"

you waved her off, "i think hair first- you brought button ups anyways so it won't mess with whatever jeno does."

oh right, he's here.

as if he had been summoned, jeno appeared next to giselle, his figure looming over her's, "i'll take it from here then-" his eyes followed where your hands met, an eyebrow raising in your direction, "if you let him go, of course."

you let go of donghyuck's hand quickly, pushing him slightly towards jeno, "yes- yes, go ahead- take care of him!"

"sit-" the larger boy gestured towards the chair.

he sat down hesitantly, hands seeking warmth under his thighs.

"so what are we doing today? bleach and tone? highlights? blowout? perm?" jeno scrolled through his phone as he spoke, voice bored.

"uh, maybe just like a simple style- i'm not sure, definitely no chemicals though."

jeno finally met his eyes through the mirror, hands coming up to squeeze donhyuck's shoulders, "you're bland."

donghyuck couldn't hide his confusion, eyebrows raising at jeno's comment, "w-what?"

"i said you're bland. i'm shocked y/n isn't tired of you by now- toys are supposed to be fun. and quite frankly-" he got close to donghyuck's ear, voice quiet, "you aren't even all that attractive."

he bit his lip nervously, looking towards the mirror to catch jeno's wide smirk.

"just a simple style it is then!" he ruffled his hair before turning to grab his equipment.

what the fuck just happened.

"he looks amazing!" you fidgeted in your spot, hands clapping softly.

"go ahead. wait-" giselle held her hand up slightly, "but don't touch him too much, the shirt's gonna wrinkle."

you stuck your tongue out at her, turning your focus to donghyuck, "do you like it?"

your warm smile made his stomach jump, cheeks growing warm under your gaze, "y-yeah i look- different."

your hands reached up to rub his arms, trying to calm his nerves, "different is good- you look good."

he smiled meekly, glasses slipping down slightly as he stared down at you, "thank you kitty."

a loud cough resonated throughout the bedroom, "we're leaving!" giselle laughed awkwardly, reaching towards the boys to push them out of the room, "come on guys, our work is done-"

"wait-" renjun reached towards haechan's face, fingers gently pulling his glasses off his face, "can't see the eye makeup with these thick glasses-"

giselle and jaemin gathered around him, "am i giselle of jaemin?" there was a loud slap against jaemin's chest, "idiot of course he can tell you're a man- hyuck how many fingers am i holding up?"

giselle and jaemin's banter seemed to fade into the background as he watched you and jeno from across the room. jeno's figure lean in towards you, talking in a hushed tone.

if it wasn't for his blurry vision he could've sworn jeno was talking about him, head tilting slightly in donghyuck's direction as he spoke.

"giselle- stop poking him." his attention turned back to your group of friends, renjun beginning to lecture jaemin and giselle, "this is why we can't have nice things- when was the last time y/n let us meet her actual boyf-"

"out! thank you so much! i love you all! now please leave my apartment!" you raised your voice, pointing towards the door.

donghyuck bowed as they each walked out of your room, not missing how jeno glanced at him, lips quirked up in a smirk.

"okay so then what do i do?" you leaned in closer to donghyuck, eyes trained on the camera in front of you both.

"you can change the lens filter here-" he clicked on some buttons, "this is how you zoom-" more button clicking.

your eyes followed the length of his fingers, soft veins bulging as he held the camera.

"uh-uh huh." you nodded your head dumbly, eyes nowhere on the camera.

"kitty-" his voice was sweet, your eyes moving up to meet his.

his eyes were soft, slightly dark from the makeup, his cheeks tinged pink from the proximity.

"kitty, just make sure the camera isn't out of focus okay?"

his smile made your chest feel funny, your face growing warm, "right- just- okay we can start- go stand over there."

you backed away from him, turning your focus to the camera as you took it from his hands.

"let me know how i should pose okay?"

you nodded quietly, face already pressed against the camera.

why were your hands so sweaty?

⋆₊˚⊹.𖥔 zoom, click, panic ! -> 13. music production

previous -> masterlist -> next

notes : and the crowd.... goes boo? i'm back!!! after long thought and consideration ik what the angst plot is LMAO,, jeno is not like a villain or anything dw but shits gonna get fucked up but... not soon... someday though... be alert...

taglist : @sunghoonsgfreal , @hizhu , @axo-l0tl , @strawberrysavi , @hyucktion , @4yunogf , @jakesbubu , @gacktsa , @iheartjayke , @annoyednblax , @luvvhaechan , @dudekiss3r , @nanaxwi , @yesohhsehun , @soobinbunnie5 , @hyucksunset , @peterm4rker , @byeonwooseokabs , @kodasity , @hyuckmoon , @catdonut657 , @lionzyon , @luvandletter , @defzcl , @nneteyamss , @222brainrot , @1lovejinki , @zzurao , @catpjimin , @multifandomania , @docilismo , @cyjzzl , @livingdoll-hara , @this-is-lowkey-a-hyuck-fanpage , @ohwowzersthatscool , @babyjenono , @wonswondrland , @jenoleeaesthetic , @bananinhazz , @hyuckna25 , @doejaejung , @angeliqueiguess , @mymartiniblue , @aerivrs , @heyitsbreeeeee , @choizzn , @jae-n0 , @hyuckshinee , @whothefvckami , @snoopyjimin

218 notes · View notes

igotanidea · 3 days ago

Text

The talk : Dick Grayson X reader ( with Bruce Wayne)

A/n : it's a snippet, I might consider writing it fully

Warning: suggestive but not explicit

Summary: it's time for the bees and bird talk with Dick

***

Bruce walking in on a young adult! Dick and his girlfriend y/n getting cosy between the sheets.

Obviously, as a normally functioning adult and a father, even if just a foster one, the batman takes it upon himself to have a talk about bees and birds with his favourite son.

He got it all planned out, schemed, thought out to avoid surprises and misunderstandings.

He actually had the contingency plans from A to Z drafted for a while, only hoping that those would never come to use.

Unfortunately, seeing y/n, with her blouse undone, hair a mess and Dick's hands (and apparently more) on her, forces Bruce to retreat to hide the blush creeping on. The last piece of his dignity is gone and he is pretty sure there's no good way to recover from such a failure.

He had reached the ultimate botttom.

"Hey B, you good?" Hours later Dick found him in the batcave, engrossed in some feigned, quickly fixed work. It was too easy to figure he would hide there to avoid seeing or - god forbid - hear anything.

"Hm."

"You wanted to talk to me about something, didn't you?" He grinned, delighting in a way Bruce seemed to develop an eye twich.

"Hm".

"Great. I got some time before I get back to y/n, so?"

"Get back?" Bruce turned to face his son and immediately regretted it. He seriously wished to erase the sight of lipstick and love bites on his neck.

"Something wrong?" Once more dick flashed a smile, trying to force a reaction out of Bruce.

"hm."

"we're being safe"

"Amazing"

"and she's okay with it"

"Great"

"And I've studied female anatomy so I know a thing or two about --"

Oh dear lord...

"Dick." Bruce was an inch from having a spasm. How ironic it would turn out to be if gotham lost its protector because of certain golden boy growing up.

"hey did you know that --"

"Get out, Dick."

"But I thought you wanted to--"

"I said get out"

"-talk?"

"I believe you got it all wrong. It was Alfred. Yes. Alfred wanted to talk to you. Not me."

"You sure about it B? You want me to talk to Alfred about -"

"yes. Absolutely. Now go. I'm sure time is of essence"

"it is. Though Alfred took some time off, thanks to your generosity, Bruce. So I'll go, sure, but I've already got so many questions that I don't want to search online and--"

"Dick?" Y/n voice sounded dangerously close to the batcave entrance "Where are you? I'm gonna have to go soon and I need a proper goodbye --"

"coming!!!" Dick yelled rushing off the room " great talk, Bruce. We'll continue it later."

Dick left and Bruce was finally able to let out a groan. The masterplanner forgot to acknowledge the fact that sweet kids tend to turn into feral, hormonal young adults and require actual upbringing.

***

"you're so mean to him, you know that?" Y/m muttered, once again with his lips on hers

"mean? Who, me? Ouch! You're hurting my heart here princess."

"you are. He could easily be a DILF, yet is alone and you're tormenting him."

"but if you saw the look on his face --"

"you're only proving my point of you being mean".

"I'm sure he'll get some, some day--"

"but still- mmm!"

"I remind you that you enabled the plan baby.... Played quite an important part in it." Dick started kissing her a little harder, not even trying to hide where he was heading. "Wonder why that is..."

"cause you're also a -- ohh!"

"you were saying?" He smirked, looking up at her.

"-prick"

"Am I?" His hands moved where she liked it "what else?"

"liar..." She gasped. While it was true he didn't tell her why he invited her over and that his father was in, his movements were serving as a pretty good apology.

Even if knowing Dick it was obviously also a way to boost his ego and prove his point and complete his twisted and deranged plan.

"you know what, I've already had one talk, I don't really need another.... Rather keep my lips occupied with something else --"

***

Bruce came out of the batcave only after making sure it was safe.

Mentally cursing himself for having not one, but four boys under his care.

Which meant that this - whatever it was-- was about to happen again.

#Dick Grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson smut #nightwing smut #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you

175 notes · View notes

strayingawayy · 2 days ago

Text

dance class with daddy!

...where your little girl teaches her daddy, the main dancer of one of the biggest kpop groups, how to dance

“you’re doing it wrong!” your daughter shouted, hands on her hips as she glared at minho.

minho, ever the professional, stopped mid-spin, eyes wide. "what do you mean, i’m doing it wrong? i’m literally following you!" he tried to mimic her tiny movements, his arms flailing in all the wrong directions.

“no, daddy! like this!” she spun in a perfect circle, her arms extended gracefully, before stopping to point at him again. “do the feet! the feet!”

minho blinked, clearly confused. “the feet? you didn’t tell me about feet!”

“do the feet!” she demanded, bouncing on the spot, her voice serious like a little dance instructor.

you were on the sidelines, biting back your laughter. minho, the literal main dancer of stray kids, was struggling to keep up with your toddler. it was hilarious.

minho tried again, his feet doing some awkward shuffle. “like this?”

“no! no! you need to do the other feet!” she screeched, pointing at the floor dramatically. “other feet, daddy!”

he froze, looking at you for help. “what other feet?” his voice was desperate, almost pleading for you to intervene.

“i have no idea,” you said, barely containing your laughter. “she changes the choreography every five seconds. just follow her.”

you watched as your daughter stomped over to minho and grabbed his hand, tugging him into position. “now we jump!” she announced proudly, before proceeding to jump up and down in rapid succession.

minho gave you a wide-eyed look, his body already aching from the "dance." “she’s a drill sergeant, not a dance teacher.”

"jump, daddy!" she yelled, practically jumping herself into the air, her little legs barely lifting off the ground. minho sighed, giving a half-hearted jump. “like this?”

“no!” she shouted. “like this!” she then proceeded to twist her body in a way that looked like an interpretive dance move gone wrong.

you were wiping away tears of laughter, watching minho try to follow along. every time he thought he had it, she changed the move. "she’s a genius" you teased.

minho collapsed onto the couch, defeated but amused. "i’m officially her backup dancer."

your daughter, hands on her hips, nodded seriously, as if she were the one making the final judgment. “good job, daddy.”

minho grinned, rubbing his sore arms. “i’m never going to live this down.”

but you knew, as the three of you giggled together, that these were the moments minho would treasure most. no stage, no spotlight—just his little girl and the other feet.

___

@staytilldeath @somedumbthings @itisjustpaula

261 notes · View notes

shdysders · 13 hours ago

Text

lips that lied

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: tara makes a drunken mistake at the party you didn't want her to attend.

word count: 8.5k

Tara didn't mean for it to turn into a fight.

She never did. It was like something inside her took over—this simmering frustration that she couldn't control, no matter how hard she tried.

The moment someone started telling her what to do or how to live her life, it was like a switch flipped.

She'd hear the words, feel the anger rise, and before she even realized it, she was saying something sharp, defensive.

It had started small, little things that shouldn't have mattered so much. Sam reminding her to take her laundry to her room or nagging her to empty the dishwasher.

Tara knew Sam wasn't trying to push her buttons, but it always felt like she was. The tone Sam used—the one laced with authority, like she was the boss of everything—grated on Tara's nerves.

It didn't matter that Sam was older, that she'd been through more. Tara wasn't a kid anymore. She didn't need someone hovering over her shoulder, pointing out every little thing she did wrong.

But it wasn't just Sam anymore. The fights had started bleeding into other parts of her life, other relationships. With you. And that hurt more than anything.

You were the one person Tara felt like she could truly be herself around, the one who always had her back, no matter what.

But lately, it felt like every conversation between you two ended the same way—with raised voices and lingering tension. And no matter how hard she tried to keep her temper in check, she always ended up getting mad.

She didn't mean it. She didn't intend to lash out at you. But when you brought up the parties, the drinking, the staying out late, it was like a spark to dry tinder. It wasn't the words themselves—it was the way you said them.

The concern in your voice, the way your brows furrowed just slightly, like you were worried but also disappointed. It made her feel like you didn't trust her, like you thought she was reckless and incapable. And that stung more than she'd ever let on.

Deep down, Tara knew where you were coming from. After everything you'd both been through—everything with Ghostface—it made sense that you'd be scared, that you'd want to protect her. She understood that.

But she couldn't shake the feeling that your concern came with strings, like it was just another way of trying to control her. Another way of making her feel small, like she couldn't make her own choices without you or Sam hovering over her shoulder.

And maybe it wasn't fair to take it out on you. Maybe it wasn't fair to get angry every time you brought it up. But Tara couldn't help it. The anger came fast and burned hot, and by the time she realized it, the damage was already done.

It was always about the same thing, too—the parties, the drinking. Always. You'd look at her like she was throwing her life away, and she'd lash out, throwing up her walls before you could even get a word in.

She hated the look on your face when it happened, the way your shoulders would drop just slightly, like you were trying to hide how much it hurt.

But that only made her angrier—at you, at herself, at everything.

Because she didn't know how to stop it. She didn't know how to stop feeling like this, like everyone she cared about was trying to tell her how to live her life. And she didn't know how to tell you that it wasn't you she was angry at—it was everything else.

Tara had been trying—really, she had. There were nights she'd sat on her bed, staring at the ceiling, telling herself she didn't need to go out again. That she could say no the next time her friends invited her to a party. College life wasn't supposed to be about drinking until you blacked out or waking up to half-remembered nights.

That's what you and Sam had told her, over and over. And the worst part? You were right. Tara knew you were right. That's probably why it made her so angry.

She hated the way her stomach twisted every time you brought it up, the way your words stuck in her head like some nagging voice she couldn't shake.

She wasn't proud of some of the nights she'd had—the tequila shots that blurred into oblivion, the mornings she woke up with her head pounding and no idea how she got back to her room.

But she didn't want to hear it from you. Not when it already weighed on her enough.

And yet, she'd been trying. Tara hadn't gone to as many parties recently, even when her friends begged her to come out. She told herself she didn't need it, that she didn't need to drown herself in the chaos of booze and loud music just to feel something.

College wasn't about that. You and Sam were right about that too.

But tonight... tonight was Halloween.

The one night of the year where partying didn't feel reckless—it felt expected. It wasn't just about drinking; it was about the costumes, the energy, the way everyone on campus seemed to buzz with excitement for weeks leading up to it.

Tara had spent the last two days scrolling through pictures of her friends' costumes, feeling the first pangs of FOMO creeping in as they texted her plans for the night.

If there was ever a night to drink and party, it was Halloween. That's what everyone kept saying, and deep down, Tara agreed. It wasn't like any other night of the year. This wasn't just some random frat party—it was a celebration, an excuse to dress up, let loose, and not think about all the heavy stuff for a while. For once, it felt justified.

But there was that nagging voice again. The one that sounded a lot like yours.

You wouldn't see it that way. You never did.

It was part of why she hadn't brought it up yet, why she'd stayed quiet all day when the group chat started blowing up with details about pre-games and house locations. She already knew what you'd say, could hear the conversation playing out in her head like a bad rerun.

Isn't it the same as every other one? You said you were going to cut back, Tara.

She sighed, pulling her phone out and scrolling through the endless stream of messages. It wasn't like she hadn't thought about staying in. There was something comforting about the idea of spending the night with you, cozying up on the couch with a movie while everyone else partied. She liked those nights the most. She liked you the most.

But Halloween only came once a year, and she wasn't ready to let it pass her by.

She had made up her mind hours ago.

Though she hadn't told you yet, and maybe that was unfair. But what was the point? You'd already made your feelings clear about the parties and the drinking, and she wasn't in the mood for another lecture. It wasn't like she needed your permission anyway. Tara had spent all afternoon convincing herself of that, repeating it in her head like a mantra while she got ready.

Now, standing in front of her mirror, she leaned in closer, carefully dragging the eyeliner across her lid with a steady hand. Her music played softly from her speaker as she moved with practiced ease, brushing a shimmery gold shadow over her eyes.

The sound of your footsteps approaching the room made her shoulders tense, but she didn't let it show. She focused on her reflection, keeping her face neutral, as if she hadn't heard you come to the doorway.

You leaned against the frame, your arms crossed loosely over your chest. "Where are you going?" Your voice was casual, but the curiosity behind it was unmistakable.

Tara's eyes flicked to yours in the mirror, her expression calm, as if this were no big deal. "Just a Halloween party," she said, her tone light and nonchalant. She reached for her lipstick, uncapping it and twisting it up. "I was thinking maybe you could come along."

It was true. She wanted you to come.

You didn't answer right away. Tara could feel your hesitation, the way your arms tightened slightly against your body. Finally, you spoke, your voice softer this time. "Oh... I thought we could just stay home and watch a movie. Sam's not home, so it'd just be the two of us."

Tara froze for just a second, the lipstick poised in her hand. She felt the weight of your words settle over the room, quiet but heavy. She hadn't thought about that—about how it would've been just you and her tonight, no interruptions, no one else around.

Her gaze flicked back to the mirror, and for a moment, she almost said yes. But the lipstick in her hand reminded her of where her night was already headed, of the costume she'd spent hours putting together.

She sighed quietly, muttering under her breath, "Well, you should've said something sooner, then."

The words were out before she could stop them. She didn't even think about how they'd sound until the silence that followed made her realize just how loud they'd been.

Slowly, she glanced at you again in the mirror, her stomach twisting as she saw the way your expression changed—the faint flicker of hurt in your eyes, the way your posture straightened as if bracing for something.

Tara clenched her jaw, trying to push down the flicker of anger she could already feel stirring in her chest. She hadn't meant to snap—it just came out wrong. But the way you stood there, looking at her like she'd just let you down, made it so much harder to keep her cool.

She capped the lipstick with a sharp click and turned to face you fully, leaning one hand against the desk behind her. "Are you coming or not?" she asked, her voice clipped, already tinged with irritation.

You hesitated again, and Tara could see the conflict written all over your face. "No," you said finally, your voice quiet but firm. "And honestly... I don't think you should go either."

There it was—the thing she'd been waiting for, the thing she was dreading. Your concern, your protectiveness, wrapped up in a polite but unmistakable disapproval.

Tara let out a sharp exhale, shaking her head as she pushed off the desk. "Of course you don't," she muttered under her breath, though it wasn't quite quiet enough to go unnoticed.

She started pacing the room, her hands flexing at her sides as she tried to keep herself in check, but the familiar heat of frustration was already creeping up her neck.

This was how it always started—your calm but firm words, her biting back without thinking, and then the inevitable explosion. She could feel it building, that anger she never knew how to stop, the same kind that always reared its head when Sam tried to tell her what to do.

"I don't get why this is such a big deal," Tara said, her tone sharper than she intended. She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back against the desk with a defensive edge. "It's Halloween. It's not like I do this every night."

"You shouldn't be doing it at all," you replied, your voice quiet but firm, though there was a tension in your jaw that gave away your frustration. "Tara, you know it's not safe. Not after—"

"Don't." Her voice was clipped as she cut you off, her eyes narrowing as she shook her head. "Don't bring that up." She pushed herself off the desk, turning her back to you.

Her fingers tightened around the fabric as she stared at the floor. Her chest felt tight, her heart pounding against her ribs like it wanted to break free. She didn't need you to say it. She already knew. The parties, the drinking—it wasn't safe. It wasn't smart. But she was so tired of being reminded of it, so tired of feeling like she couldn't make a single decision without someone stepping in to tell her it was the wrong one.

"Why do we keep having this same conversation?" Tara asked, spinning around to face you, her voice louder now, almost exasperated. She threw her hands up, the movement sharp and agitated. "Why can't you just trust me?"

"It's not about trust," you said, your voice rising slightly to match hers, though you clearly didn't want to fight. "It's about being realistic, Tara. If something happens—"

"Nothing is going to happen!" Tara snapped, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. She took a step closer to you, her frustration spilling out in the way her fists clenched at her sides. "Why do you always assume the worst? I'm not some reckless idiot who can't take care of herself!"

You flinched slightly, your lips pressing together into a thin line. But then, your eyes met hers, steady and unflinching. "I don't think you're reckless," you said, your voice softer now but still resolute. "I think you're stubborn. And I think you're angry, and you don't even know why half the time."

Tara's breath hitched, the words cutting deeper than she'd expected. Her jaw tightened, and she let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head as she looked away. "Oh, so now I'm the problem?" she muttered bitterly, pacing a few steps to the other side of the room.

"I didn't say that," you said, your voice still calm, but there was an edge to it now—a frustration that had been building over time. "But you don't listen, Tara. Not to me. Not to Sam. It's like you don't care how much we worry about you."

She stopped pacing, her head snapping up to meet your gaze. "I didn't ask you to worry," she shot back, her tone colder now. "I didn't ask for either of you to act like I'm some fragile little kid who can't handle herself."

The words hung in the air, heavy and cutting.

"Tara..." Your voice wavered slightly, and for a moment, she saw the hurt flicker in your eyes, the way your shoulders sagged just a bit. "I'm not trying to control you. I'm trying to keep you safe. Because I care about you. Because I love you. And it feels like you don't even care about that."

Her chest tightened at your words, but she pushed the feeling down, burying it beneath her anger. "I do care," she snapped, though her voice cracked slightly. "But I can't keep living my life walking on eggshells because you're scared something might happen. That's not fair."

"And it's fair to me?" you shot back, your voice rising now, the frustration finally spilling over. "To stand here and watch you go out, knowing damn well something could happen to you and I'd be powerless to stop it?"

Tara opened her mouth to respond but found herself at a loss. Her hands fell to her sides, her breathing uneven as she stared at you, the weight of your words sinking in. The anger still simmered beneath her skin, but now it was tangled with guilt, confusion, and something she didn't know how to name.

"It's not safe, Tara," you said, your tone softer this time, like you were pleading with her. Your hands rested at your sides, fingers twitching slightly, a subtle sign of the nerves you were trying to hide. "You drink too much. You're out late, and if something happened—"

"Like what?" Tara cut you off sharply, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as she took a step back. Her posture screamed defensiveness, her jaw tightening as she stared you down. "Ghostface? You think I can't handle myself?"

"That's not what I'm saying, and you know it," you replied, exhaling in frustration. Your tone was measured, but there was an edge to it now, like you were walking a fine line between trying to stay calm and letting your own anger slip through. "I just don't understand why you need to go out all the time. Why can't we just stay here? Together?"

Tara's mouth opened, then closed, her eyes flickering to the floor for a brief second before she met your gaze again. Staying here felt suffocating, like the walls of the apartment were closing in on her a little more every day. But she didn't say that. Instead, she threw her hands up in exasperation, her voice rising despite herself.

"I'm not some kid who needs a curfew, okay? I'm not going to stop living my life just because you and Sam want to keep me locked up in bubble wrap!"

Your face fell, the flicker of hurt in your eyes like a knife twisting in Tara's chest. She hadn't meant it like that—at least, not entirely. But the words were out now, sharp and cutting, and there was no way to take them back.

"Tara..." Your voice was quieter now, but the disappointment in it was unmistakable. It made her stomach churn, but the anger boiling inside her wouldn't let her stop.

"You don't get it," she snapped, doubling down even though part of her wanted to stop. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, her body trembling slightly as she glared at you. "You never want to come with me anyway, so why do you care so much? You're just going to sit here and judge me from the couch like you always do!"

"That's not fair," you said, your voice breaking slightly, but you didn't raise it. Instead, you crossed your arms, your shoulders hunching defensively as you looked at her, the sadness in your eyes more apparent now. "I'm not judging you, Tara. I'm scared for you. There's a difference."

"Scared for me?" she scoffed, rolling her eyes as she took another step back, her arms still crossed like she was shielding herself. "I don't need you to be scared for me. I'm fine! I'm not some helpless little girl who needs you holding my hand every second of the day!"

You blinked, your lips parting like you wanted to say something, but the words didn't come. Tara could see the hurt written all over your face, the way your shoulders slumped like her words had physically knocked the wind out of you.

"Why do you always do this?" she continued, her voice louder now, cracking slightly at the edges. She ran a hand through her hair, pacing a few steps before spinning back around to face you. "Why do you always make me feel like I'm the bad guy? Like I'm the problem?"

"I'm not trying to make you feel like anything," you said, your voice shaking now, though you still kept it calm. "I just—I don't want to lose you, Tara. Is that so hard to understand?"

Tara froze for a moment, your words cutting through her anger like a blade. But instead of softening, the guilt twisting in her gut only fueled the fire.

"You're not going to lose me," she said, her tone sharp, almost dismissive. "But you can't keep treating me like I'm going to break every time I step out the door. That's not fair to me, okay? I'm allowed to have a life."

The silence that followed was heavy, the tension in the room thick enough to choke on. Tara's chest heaved as she stared at you, her fists clenched so tightly that her nails bit into her palms.

You took a step closer, your hands falling to your sides as you looked at her with pleading eyes. "I'm not trying to take away your life, Tara. I just want to be a part of it. And I want you to be safe. That's all."

Tara's hands shook at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as she tried to hold herself together. But the tightness in her chest only grew, her pulse pounding in her ears.

She felt caged, suffocated by the weight of your concern, like every decision she made had to be scrutinized and questioned.

It wasn't fair—it wasn't fair that you could make her feel this way, guilty and cornered, when all she wanted was space to breathe.

"Well, maybe I don't want you to be a part of it!" The words were out before she could stop them, and the second they left her mouth, she wanted to take them back.

Your expression shattered, your eyes widening slightly as you stepped back like she'd physically pushed you. The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air.

Tara swallowed hard, her throat tightening as she looked away. "I didn't mean that," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. But the damage was already done.

You didn't say anything, your lips pressing into a thin line as you looked down, your hands clenching at your sides.

"I'm going," she said finally, her voice colder now as she grabbed her jacket off the chair. "Don't wait up."

You finally opened your mouth at that, your voice trembling as you took a hesitant step forward. "Tara, wait, I'll—”

But you were interrupted by the sharp slam of the door.

Which Tara slammed behind her harder than she meant to, the sharp sound echoing in the hallway. She paused for a moment, her chest heaving as the anger slowly began to ebb, leaving guilt in its place. She rubbed a hand over her face, muttering a quiet curse under her breath.

She did feel bad. She hated the look on your face, the way your shoulders had slumped, like her words had taken something out of you.

But going back now? That would only prove your point—that she couldn't handle herself. Tara wasn't going to let that happen.

Her boots clicked against the pavement as she made her way down the street, her jacket pulled tightly around her. The city was alive with Halloween energy, groups of costumed people spilling out of bars and clubs, laughter and music filling the air. It should've made her feel better, reminded her why she was doing this. Instead, it only made her stomach twist.

By the time she reached the house, the bass from the music inside was already vibrating through the sidewalk. The door swung open as someone stumbled out, nearly knocking into her, and Tara slipped past them without a word.

Inside, the party was in full swing. The living room was packed with people, costumes ranging from elaborate to lazy crowding every corner. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol and sweat, the music loud enough to drown out her thoughts. Perfect.

The first thing she did was head for the kitchen, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. She grabbed a red solo cup from the counter and poured herself a drink, the burn of the cheap vodka barely registering as she tipped it back and swallowed half in one go.

Her shoulders relaxed slightly, the warmth of the alcohol spreading through her chest. Tara grabbed another cup—this time mixing it with whatever mixer was nearby—and made her way back to the main room, the tension in her body slowly unwinding.

"Tara!" Anika's voice cut through the noise, and Tara turned to see her standing near the couch, Mindy by her side. Both of them were grinning, their costumes half-wrinkled from the chaos of the party.

"Hey!" Tara forced a smile, lifting her drink in a half-hearted salute as she made her way over.

"Look at you!" Mindy said, smirking as she gave Tara a once-over. "All dressed up and ready to party. Didn't think you were coming."

"Changed my mind," Tara replied casually, taking another sip of her drink as she leaned against the wall.

Anika nudged her playfully, her own drink sloshing slightly in her hand. "Glad you did. It's not a party without you."

Tara chuckled softly, her smile feeling a little more real now. The noise, the crowd, the alcohol—it was a distraction, exactly what she needed.

Anika shook her head, grinning as she sipped her drink. "Where's Y/N? I thought you two were hanging out tonight."

Mindy shot Tara a knowing look, raising her drink to her lips as she waited for the response.

Tara stiffened, her grip tightening slightly on her cup before she masked it with a shrug. "She didn't feel like coming."

"Really?" Anika frowned. "She seemed excited about Halloween the other day."

"She had other plans," Tara said quickly, brushing it off as she took another sip of her drink. "It's not a big deal."

Anika's brows furrowed slightly, but she didn't push. Mindy, however, smirked as she leaned closer. "Trouble in paradise?"

"Shut up," Tara muttered, rolling her eyes as she took a long drink.

Mindy laughed, holding her hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Just saying."

"Okay, but seriously," Mindy said, her tone conspiratorial as she leaned closer, clearly trying to change the subject. "Who do you think has the worst costume here? My vote's on the guy in the banana suit.”

Tara snorted, the tension in her chest loosening a little more as she let herself fall into the moment, pushing everything else to the back of her mind.

For now, this was enough.

But it wasn't for long.

The drinks went down too easily tonight, one after the other, the burn of the alcohol soon replaced by a numbing buzz that made Tara's limbs feel weightless. She wasn't keeping track—she never did—but by the time she was halfway through her fourth drink, the world around her had already started to blur.

It was worse than usual. She could feel it, the familiar dizziness settling in her head, the way her balance wavered slightly every time she shifted her weight. But she didn't care. She couldn't care.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw your face—the way your voice had cracked when you said, "I just don't want to lose you." The guilt she'd managed to bury earlier was bubbling back to the surface, and the only way to shove it down again was to keep drinking.

By the time she reached for her fifth cup, her hands were unsteady. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice told her to stop, that this was too much, too fast. But that voice sounded a lot like you, and Tara didn't want to hear it.

She threw back the drink anyway, wincing as it went down harder this time, the sweetness of the mixer barely masking the sharpness of the alcohol. The room spun slightly when she set the cup down, and she reached out to steady herself on the edge of the counter.

"Hey, you good?" someone asked, but Tara didn't bother turning to look. She waved them off with a muttered "Yeah, fine," before pushing herself away from the counter.

She stumbled back into the main room, the crowd swallowing her whole. Anika and Mindy had been here a minute ago—she was sure of it—but now they were nowhere to be seen.

God, she was drunk. Too drunk.

She tried to push through the sea of people, her eyes darting around the room in search of her friends. Her chest tightened when she couldn't spot them, panic starting to creep in around the edges of her alcohol-fueled haze.

Someone bumped into her, spilling a bit of their drink onto her jacket, and she spun around, her frustration spilling out in a slurred, "Watch it!" The person just rolled their eyes and moved on, leaving Tara standing there, unsteady and alone in the middle of the chaos.

Her head was pounding now, the music too loud, the lights too bright. She fumbled for her phone, pulling it out of her pocket to call Anika or Mindy, but her fingers felt clumsy, and she nearly dropped it twice before managing to open her contacts.

No answer.

Tara swallowed hard, her throat burning from the alcohol and something else she didn't want to name. The room felt smaller now, the walls closing in as the reality of the situation began to settle over her. She'd lost her friends. She was drunker than she'd ever been. And she had no idea what to do next.

The air in the crowded living room was stifling, thick with the mingling scents of sweat, spilled drinks, and cheap perfume.

Her head was swimming, the pounding bass vibrating in her chest like a second heartbeat. She pressed a hand to her temple, grimacing as the alcohol buzz threatened to tip her into full-on dizziness.

Her throat burned, dry and aching from the string of drinks she'd knocked back earlier. She needed water. Something cold to clear her head and keep her upright. The thought became a singular focus, cutting through the haze. Just water. If she could get to the kitchen, maybe she could think straight again.

The dimly lit hallway leading to it felt like a challenge course, bodies crowding every step of the way. Tara squeezed past a couple leaning against the wall and miscalculated her footing as her balance wavered. Before she could stop herself, she collided into someone with enough force to send her stumbling back.

"Whoa there," the guy said, his hands coming up instinctively to catch her by the shoulders.

Tara blinked, disoriented, her face heating from the embarrassment and the alcohol swirling in her system. "Sorry," she muttered, trying to straighten herself as her vision cleared enough to see who she'd bumped into.

Frankie. Of course.

He smirked, letting his hands drop but not stepping back. "Tara Carpenter, right?" His tone carried a mix of recognition and amusement, as though the universe had handed him this moment just for fun.

"Yeah," she said, brushing her hair back as she tried to shake off the drunken haze clouding her thoughts. "Sorry, I wasn't—"

"Looking where you were going?" he teased, his grin widening.

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the faint curve of a smile tugging at her lips. "Something like that."

Frankie didn't move away, his presence lingering a little too close for what might have been polite. He tilted his head, giving her a once-over with that same smirk, his dark eyes glinting under the dim light.

"You seem like you've had a good time tonight," he said, his voice light but edged with something Tara couldn't quite place.

She shrugged, brushing imaginary lint off her sleeve as a distraction. "It's a party," she said, aiming for casual. "That's kind of the point, isn't it?"

Frankie chuckled, the sound low and smooth. "True. But you look like you might need a breather. Want some water or...?"

Tara raised an eyebrow, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. She wasn't sure if he was being considerate or just trying to prolong the conversation. Either way, she crossed her arms, leaning her hip against the counter to steady herself.

"I was about to get one," she admitted, her voice more defensive than she intended.

"Smart move," Frankie said, stepping around her to open the fridge. He pulled out a bottle and held it up with a crooked smile. "Ladies first?"

Her gaze flicked between him and the bottle, her lips quirking in a faint smirk of her own. "Thanks," she said, taking it from him and twisting the cap off.

She took a long sip, her throat easing from the burn of the earlier drinks. The water was cold, sharp against her tongue, and for a moment, she let herself focus on that—on the relief of it.

"So," Frankie said, leaning back against the counter as he watched her. "What brings you to this madhouse tonight? Thought you weren't much for these kinds of things."

Tara bristled slightly at the question, shifting her weight to the other foot. "Why does everyone assume that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "I can have fun, you know."

He grinned again, but it was softer this time, almost like he was testing the waters. "Didn't mean anything by it," he said. "Just... you seem more low-key. Not the type to down four drinks and stumble into strangers."

Tara rolled her eyes, though she couldn't entirely stop the heat rising to her cheeks. "Guess I'm full of surprises," she said, taking another sip of water.

Her thoughts drifted briefly as the alcohol in her system dulled her usual defenses. It felt nice, talking to someone without the tension simmering beneath the surface. No fights, no accusations, just... this. A moment where she wasn't angry or being scolded. She leaned into the counter, letting herself relax slightly.

Tara let her gaze drift over Frankie for a moment, her vision slightly unfocused from the alcohol but sharp enough to take in the details. His short, dark curls framed his face, and there was something effortlessly casual about him—like he knew exactly how to play the part of the guy who didn't care too much but somehow still caught everyone's attention.

A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, a fixture she doubted ever left, and the faintest trace of a beard shadowed his jawline.

She took another sip of water, using the motion to cover the way her eyes lingered. It wasn't like she was interested—not really. He had a reputation, and not the good kind. But he was here. He was talking to her. And with her friends somewhere out in the chaos of the party, who else was she supposed to talk to?

Tara knew she was drunk, the buzz coursing through her veins a constant reminder. It made everything feel a little too easy, a little too warm.

Her thoughts were slippery, darting from one thing to another before she could catch them. But still, she could look, couldn't she? That wasn't a crime.

"Your friends ditch you or something?" Frankie's voice cut through the fog in her head, his tone light but curious.

She shrugged, her fingers curling around the neck of the water bottle. "Something like that," she said, leaning a little more heavily against the counter. "They'll turn up eventually."

"Mm," he hummed, his smirk deepening. "Guess that makes me the lucky one, then."

Tara raised an eyebrow at that, her lips twitching into a faint smile despite herself. "Lucky?" she echoed, her tone teasing.

"Yeah," he said, his gaze flickering over her like he was sizing her up. "I get to keep you company."

She rolled her eyes, though the warmth in her chest spread a little further. "You're full of it," she muttered, but there wasn't any bite to her words.

He shrugged, unbothered. "Maybe. But you're still standing here, aren't you?"

She didn't answer right away, instead glancing at the door that led back into the main room. The thump of the music bled through, muffled but still loud enough to make her head ache. She could leave. She could walk back out there, try to find Mindy and Anika and pretend she wasn't standing here with him.

But instead, she stayed.

"You're right," she said finally, her tone dry. "Guess I am."

Her lips curved into a smirk, matching the one Frankie had been wearing since the moment she stumbled into him. Her steps were slow but deliberate as she closed the distance between them, her eyes locked on his.

The noise of the party around them faded into the background, leaving only the faint thrum of the bass vibrating through the walls.

She didn't know why she was moving closer, or what exactly she was hoping to find in the glint of amusement in his eyes, but she didn't stop herself either. Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through her veins, softening the sharp edges of her usual caution. Maybe it was the simmering anger she hadn't been able to shake since she left the apartment.

Either way, the part of her that usually screamed to think twice was silent, and she wasn't about to argue.

Frankie didn't step back as she approached. If anything, his smirk widened, the corners of his lips curling with a confidence that might have been off-putting if she were sober. But she wasn't sober, and the alcohol told her it was a good thing. His posture remained relaxed, leaning slightly against the counter, but his eyes followed her every move.

Tara stopped just close enough for the air between them to feel charged, her gaze flickering down to the beer in his hand before returning to his face.

Her heart thudded in her chest, though she couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol coursing through her veins or the strange electricity in the air between them. Her balance wavered slightly as she shifted onto her tiptoes, her hands briefly brushing the counter for support before she reached up.

The decision wasn't calculated—it wasn't even really a decision. It just happened. Her lips pressed to his, soft but insistent, the faint bitterness of beer on his mouth mingling with the warmth of his breath.

For the briefest moment, her mind went completely quiet. The noise of the party faded into the background. The tension from earlier, the argument, the mess of emotions—none of it mattered. Her chest felt lighter, as if she'd found a fleeting relief she hadn't even known she was searching for.

Frankie responded almost instantly, his lips moving against hers with a confidence that matched his earlier demeanor. His hand slid to her waist, steadying her as she leaned further into him. The kiss was firm, and there was no hesitation on his part. It was easy, natural, and for a fleeting second.

But then, just as quickly, he pulled away, breaking the connection with a soft sound that felt too loud in the charged silence between them. Tara blinked up at him, her breath hitching slightly as she tried to process the shift.

Frankie's expression was a mixture of amusement and something darker, his brows furrowed slightly even as a small, lopsided smirk played on his lips. His eyes scanned her face like he was trying to solve a puzzle, his voice low and teasing when he finally spoke. "Don't you have a girlfriend?"

The words hung in the air, sharp and pointed, but they didn't land the way they should have. Tara's mind didn't snap to you, to your laugh or your smile or the way you always made her feel safe. It didn't even flicker with guilt. Instead, the question felt almost absurd, like it wasn't meant for her.

Her expression shifted, her brows knitting together as her lips parted slightly in confusion. She stared at Frankie, her drunken mind slow to process the accusation. "No," she said finally, the word slipping out with a sharp edge, like the idea itself offended her.

She barely gave him time to react. His smirk widened slightly, like he wasn't entirely convinced, but she didn't care. She didn't want to care. She pushed up onto her toes again, her hands gripping the edge of the counter for balance, and kissed him once more.

This time, Frankie didn't hesitate. His hands found her waist again, pulling her closer as he kissed her back with more force. Tara leaned into him, her body moving instinctively as her mind quieted further. The heat of his touch and the pressure of his lips were the only things she could focus on, drowning out the buzz of the party and the alcohol swirling in her system.

The kiss deepened, and the edges of the room blurred as the world around them fell away. Tara didn't think. She didn't analyze. She just let herself go, letting the moment sweep her up completely, letting the alcohol and adrenaline guide her. For now, it was easier not to remember. Easier not to think about anything else.

It didn't feel good.

That was the thought that struck her, sharp and insistent, as the kiss deepened. There was a hollowness in her chest, a feeling she couldn't quite place that refused to be drowned out by the alcohol. But it was supposed to feel good. That's what she told herself. This was what she came here for, wasn't it? To forget. To escape. To lose herself in something that didn't matter.

Frankie's hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer, and Tara kissed him harder, as if forcing the moment to feel like it was enough would make it so. But that sensation in her stomach—the one that twisted and knotted itself tighter with every second—didn't leave.

Her lips moved against his with a kind of desperation, but the spark she expected, the relief she thought she'd find, didn't come. The kiss was warm, his touch steady, but it wasn't enough to chase away the heaviness sitting in her chest. It wasn't enough to erase the lingering anger, the ache she refused to name, or the faint sense of wrongness pressing at the edges of her mind.

Tara told herself it was the alcohol. That the burn in her stomach and the dull ache creeping up her spine was just the vodka catching up to her. But it wasn't. It was something else entirely, something she didn't want to think about.

So she pushed it down, ignored it. She kissed Frankie like it was a solution, like if she just went through the motions hard enough, it would fix the uneasy feeling clawing at her insides. She tilted her head, her fingers gripping the counter for balance, and kissed him like she meant it.

But no matter how hard she tried, that feeling in her stomach didn't leave.

And then.

It hit her all at once, like a punch to the gut.

You.

Her body froze against Frankie's, the haze of alcohol momentarily lifting as her mind snapped into sharp, almost painful focus. She did have a girlfriend. A girlfriend who was waiting at home for her.

A girlfriend who had looked at her earlier with worry etched into her features, asking her to stay, asking her to talk.

A girlfriend who wanted nothing more than to spend the night curled up on the couch with her, watching movies and laughing at whatever cheesy dialogue made its way onto the screen.

She had you.

And she'd told Frankie she didn't. She'd looked him in the eyes, as if the very idea of you didn't exist, and said no. No. She'd kissed him, lied to him, and to herself, and for what?

Her breath caught in her throat as the weight of it all came crashing down.

Tara shoved Frankie away abruptly, panic tightening every muscle in her body. The force sent her stumbling back a step, and Frankie staggered too, looking utterly baffled.

"What the fuck?" he spat, his voice sharp and angry, his brows furrowing in disbelief.

Tara barely heard him. Her chest heaved as she scanned the kitchen, her eyes darting to the edges of the room, searching frantically. Had anyone seen them? Was someone standing there, phone in hand, ready to immortalize her mistake forever?

Her hands trembled as her gaze swept over the crowd, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. She didn't know if it was the alcohol, the fear, or the overwhelming realization of what she'd just done, but the world tilted slightly as her mind raced, desperate to make sense of what had just happened—and to undo it, even though she knew she couldn't.

Tara's eyes darted wildly across the room, desperate to anchor herself to something, anything that would quiet the storm brewing inside her. One of the doors creaked open as someone stumbled in, but she was already turning toward the noise filtering in from the main room.

Her gaze followed the chaotic scene beyond the doorway—the crowd swaying to the beat of the music, cups raised in the air, bodies pressed too close together.

She spotted a couple making out against the wall, their faces blurred together in the dim light, oblivious to the world around them. Nearby, a guy in a cheap pirate costume laughed loudly, spilling his drink over himself as his friends roared in drunken amusement. It was all so normal, so loud, so suffocating.

And then, her breath hitched.

There, just beyond the shifting sea of people, was a figure standing motionless. Someone was looking straight at her, their eyes locked onto hers.

At first, it didn't register. Her vision swam, the blur of tears and alcohol distorting the scene in front of her. But that silhouette—that hair, those familiar features—something about it cut through the haze, stabbing straight into her chest.

Her pulse quickened as the figure stepped forward, just slightly, enough for the light to catch their face.

It was you.

Tara froze.

It was you—your eyes, your expression. The heartbreak painted so clearly across your face, it made her stomach twist painfully. And then there was your costume—something hastily thrown together, it seemed. A loose shirt that was supposed to pass as part of the look, a small prop in your hand that didn't match the theme of the party. It was clear you hadn't cared what you looked like. You had come here for her.

Tara felt like she was going to be sick.

You had seen it. Tara could tell by the look in your eyes, the way they shimmered with unshed tears, the way your brows furrowed ever so slightly, as if trying to make sense of what you'd witnessed.

You had seen her kiss him. Probably seen her lie, even if you hadn't heard the words. The betrayal was written all over your face, the silent confirmation that Tara's worst fear—the one she hadn't even allowed herself to fully acknowledge—was now her reality.

You didn't say a word, didn't move. You just stood there, your shoulders slightly slumped, the light from the room casting harsh shadows over the raw hurt etched into your features. Your lips parted like you wanted to speak, but no sound came out.

She couldn't breathe.

Her body trembled, her legs feeling like they'd give out at any moment. The guilt crashed over her in waves, suffocating her. Tara's chest tightened as she stared back at you, her lips parting uselessly as though she could explain—could somehow undo what you must have seen.

Her mind raced, replaying the moment just minutes before when she'd lied, when she'd kissed someone who wasn't you.

The taste of Frankie's beer still lingered on her lips, and it made her stomach churn. How could she? How could she do this to you—the one person who cared for her, loved her, even when she didn't deserve it?

Her guilt clawed at her, sharp and unrelenting. She could feel the weight of it in her chest, see it reflected in your eyes.

You were here, dressed in something last-minute, probably feeling out of place in the loud, chaotic party. You'd come for her, likely because you'd wanted to talk, to make things better after the argument. She could see the effort, the love in the way you'd shown up for her. And she'd thrown it away.

Tara's breathing turned shallow, her hands shaking at her sides. She couldn't move, couldn't speak. The words she wanted to say died in her throat, swallowed by the lump of regret that had taken over.

Her lips trembled, but no sound came. The only thing she could do was stand there, staring at the one person she swore she'd never hurt, knowing she already had.

Tara felt as though her chest was caving in, the weight of her actions pressing down until it became nearly unbearable. Her stomach churned violently, guilt sinking its claws into her as her mind replayed every small detail of the moment before. The way her lips had moved against his. The lie she'd so easily let slip from her mouth.

And now, you. Standing there, looking at her like she was a stranger—a stranger who had just torn your heart in two.

Her throat tightened painfully, a lump of emotion rising that she couldn't swallow down no matter how hard she tried. Her head buzzed with alcohol, with shame, with the sudden, overwhelming clarity of what she'd just done.

You weren't supposed to be here. You were supposed to be at home, waiting for her like you always did, with that soft patience only you seemed to have for her. But you weren't.

You were here, in front of her, and she had ruined everything.

A tear slipped down your cheek, catching the dim light as it fell, and it was like a knife slicing through her chest.

She watched as you exhaled shakily, your shoulders rising and falling with effort, as if just standing there was almost too much.

And then you nodded. Slowly, your head dipped once, twice, as if acknowledging what she'd done, what she was.

That nearly undid her.

Your lips pressed into a small, trembling smile—forced, broken, and so soft it shattered her. You tried. Even in the moment where she'd failed you in the worst way, you still tried. And that was what gutted her the most.

You didn't say a word.

You turned around, your movements slow and deliberate, like it physically hurt to walk away.

And Tara stood there, rooted in place, her hands trembling so violently at her sides she could feel her nails biting into her palms. Her chest heaved, her breath shallow and uneven. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to move, to follow you, to grab your hand and beg for forgiveness.

She wanted to run after you, to stop you before you disappeared into the night. She wanted to scream your name, to throw herself at your feet and tell you it was all a mistake, that she only loved you. You. Always you.

But she couldn't move. She was frozen, locked in place by her own fear, her own shame.

And you walked out.

The sound of the front door clicking shut in the distance echoed like a death knell in her ears. Tara felt the walls closing in around her, the party suddenly too loud, too bright, too much. And yet, all she could do was stand there, watching the spot where you'd been, her chest hollow and her heart splintering apart.

She had lost you. And it was her fault.

Tara was left staring at the place you just stood, knowing she'd just destroyed the one thing that ever felt like home.

#jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #vada cavell x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #wednesday addams x reader #mabel x reader #melissa barrera x reader #sam carpenter

220 notes · View notes

mindless-existence1 · 1 day ago

Note

Hello!! I love your writing and I was wondering if you could write a oneshot with Shadow x reader (fem preferably but up to you!) and Reader's taking a shower and there's a flipping spider and she asks Shadow to kill the damn spider please (totally not speaking from experience) anyways haha have a great day! 🤩

The warm glow of the bathroom light spilled into the hallway as you prepared to step into the shower.

Steam curled up from the running water, and you were just about to turn around to grab your towel when you saw it.

A spider.

It wasn’t massive, but it wasn’t small either—one of those mid-sized ones that somehow looked bigger when it decided to skitter across your bathroom floor.

Your heart jumped, and a startled yelp escaped your lips. “Shadow!” you called instinctively, backing away toward the door.

Before you could process your next move, the sound of rapid footsteps echoed down the hall. Shadow burst into the room, his crimson eyes scanning the area with the intensity of someone expecting a life-threatening situation.

“What happened?” he demanded, his tone sharp. You pointed toward the floor near the base of the sink. “There’s… there’s a spider.”

Shadow blinked, his gaze shifting to where you were pointing. Sure enough, there it was, sitting completely still as if mocking your fear.“…A spider,” he repeated flatly, the tension in his stance immediately easing.

“Yes, a spider,” you said, still clutching the towel close. “It’s huge!” Shadow crossed his arms, his expression hovering between exasperation and disbelief. “You called me in here… for that?”

“It’s not just a spider!” you argued. “It’s a menace! It could be poisonous or something.”

Shadow stared at you for a long moment, his usual stoic demeanor faltering slightly as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re afraid of this tiny creature?”

“Hey, everyone has their thing,” you muttered defensively. With a sigh, Shadow crouched down, effortlessly scooping the spider up in his gloved hand.

The arachnid didn’t even try to resist, its tiny legs twitching as Shadow carried it toward the open window.

He released it outside with an almost robotic efficiency, shutting the window afterward. “There,” he said, turning back to you.

“The ‘threat’ has been neutralized.” You take Shadows face in your hands and give him a sweet kiss on cheeck. “My hero!” you see the reddness come to his cheeks as he avert his gaze away from you.

“You humans are truly baffling sometimes,” he muttered, though the faintest hint of amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth. You smiled sheepishly.

“Hey, you’re the one who rushed in like I was being attacked. Admit it—you thought I was in serious danger.” Shadow didn’t deny it, his eyes flicking away briefly. “I wasn’t going to take any chances,” he said quietly, his tone softer now.

The sincerity in his voice made your heart flutter, and you couldn’t resist leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Well, my hero, thanks for saving me from the terrifying creature.”

He huffed, clearly trying to maintain his aloofness despite the faint blush creeping into his cheeks. “Just try not to scream next time unless it’s actually an emergency.”

“No promises,” you teased, grabbing your towel and stepping into the shower.

As you closed the door, you could still hear him muttering under his breath about “overreacting humans,” but you knew he didn’t really mind. Shadow had a habit of making your small problems his responsibility, no matter how ridiculous they seemed.

#shadow x reader fluff #shadow x reader #shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow the ultimate lifeform #sonic fanfiction #sonic universe #sonic the hedgehog #sonic fandom #sonic movie #Sonic universe x reader #Sonic fluff #Sonic 3 #sonic live action #Sonic live action fanfic #Sonic fanfic

173 notes · View notes

mj0702 · 17 hours ago

Text

New Year🔞🔞

There is smut content in there so... MINORS NO NO!!!

What a Party it had been. Patri really went all out for this new year party she hosted. Jenni wore a simple black piece hugging her figure just perfectly her eyes in a – what you called vintage – smoky eyes in silver and black makeup her lips painted in a dark red nearly brown-ish. Alexia the complete contrast as usual wore cream light but elegant pants, a – also vintage – crop top (you'd never dare to call your girlfriends old into their faces so you always settle for “vintage” instead) and simple makeup. You – the most simple out of the three of you – wore simply Jeans (you wanted to go in sweaters but both Alexia and Jenni threatened to tie you to a lamp post and just leave you there if you would dare to leave the house in sweat pants) and a Ralph Laurent Polo. Surprise you weren't the only one. You found yourself in a corner with Caro, Ewa, Laura (Keiras girlfriend) and Esmee all sporting the Jeans 'n Polo look standing there awkwardly all of you a cup of something in your hand. It was like a scene from a bad High school movie where all the nerds standing in a corner watching the popular girls while all your girlfriends (minus Ewa who still longed after that girl in her old Club and Esmee who had a dating ban by your girlfriend – the Barcelona one not the Mexican one – after the drama caused with Esmees ex-boyfriend) had the best time on the makeshift dancefloor

“So... how was your Christmas?” Caro asked after 15 minutes of heavy silence

“Oh... yeah... good” Ewa shrugged her shoulders “... spend it with my family in Poland”

“Careful there Pajor...” you smirked nodding at Laura “... not that you get invaded... again”

“hey.... that was ONE time...” Laura rolled her eyes playfully

“Wait what??” Esmee looked confused “Laura invaded Ewa? Uh oh.. Keira won't like that”

“Yeah no...” you snorted “... Lauras grands invaded Poland... and the Netherlands”

“Oooooh....” the young player looked curious “.... why?”

“Hun... I know you're young...” Laura started patting Esmees head “... but even you should've heard of World War II … Jexias plaything over here just loves to milk them Austrian jokes”

“Ooooooh... yeah I heard of that...” Esmee nodded while Caro snorted into her drink

“England was invaded too...” the norwegian pointed out making Laura groan

“Not really no...” you pursed your lips “... our leadership knew what they were doing”

“Can we please stop making bad 1930s jokes?” the Austrian huffed but the little twinkle in her eyes showed that she wasn't mad

“Because you'd lose again?” Esmee asked innocently

“Careful there kid...” Laura pointed her finger at the youngster “... or you and I will have a little face off tomorrow”

“I still have tomorrow off...” the young dutch exclaimed

“You won't if you keep choosing the wrong side” the Austrian raised her eyebrow

“Come to the dark side...” Ewa threw her arm around Esmees shoulders “... we have cookies”

“And alcohol” you pointed out lifting your cup

“And alcohol” the polish player confirmed

“Alexia said I'm not allowed to have alcohol during the season” Esmee hung her head

“First.. she's not looking...” you quickly glanced at your girlfriend who was dancing with Jenni before you pushed you cup into the young players hands “... secondly... drink that”

“Bad influence... all of you” Caro shook her head smiling

“Are you going to report us all to Marta?” you challenged her an eyebrow raised while you “helped” Esmee drowning your drink – you simply held the cup so the young one couldn't do anything else than drink

“And get in trouble because I didn't stop you?” the norwegian snorted “Hell Naah”

“Jesus... that's strong...” Esmee now coughed a little bit after she emptied your cup “... what is that”

“It should've been a Mojito....” you shrugged your shoulders “... I might went a little hard on the Rum...”

“It tasted like... pure Rum” the young player pulled a face

“Because it was...” you said unphased “... I forgot what else belongs into a Mojito so I went for the ingredients I knew... Rum”

“Isn't there sugar in it?” Ewa wondered out loud

“Yeah... but try to find sugar in a pro athletes household...” you waved your hand around Patris home

“Huh... true” Ewa nodded while Laura and Caro started laughing

“I think our Cari is enjoying herself” Jenni husked against Alexias ear her hands on the blondes hips while Alexias back is pressed into the older ones front the Catalans arms hanging loosely around her girlfriends neck

“Mhm...” Alexia hummed after she quickly glanced over to you “... and with Caro and Laura there we don't need to worry that her, Esmee and Ewa get into trouble”

“I wouldn't go that far” the dark haired one chuckled “... she can be quite the brat if she wants to”

“You love it if we act a little out of line” the blonde smirked turning in her girlfriends arms so she can look at Jenni

“I love it even more when I get you both back into line” Jenni smirked bending down kissing Alexia softly

“Get a room” Pina hollered from the other side of the room which caused Jenni to deepen the kiss lifting her left arm and showing Pina the middle finger

“NOT my room!!! NOT any room in my house!!” Patri panicky interrupted when she saw that Pina was about to contra Jenni once more

“You just have to turn the music up Pats...” the dark haired one smirked after she ended the kiss “... both of them can get quite loud”

“Oh god” Jenni and Alexia heard your faint groan bursting out laughing

“Why would you yell at each other in a room?” Esmee asked with the innocents of a child after your groan of embarrassment making Ewa, Caro and Laura burst out laughing

“Jenni and Alexia are both....” you tried to do damage control “... intense people”

“Intense... yeah...” Caro chuckled wiping away a tear “... call it intense”

“I mean I never played with Jenni...” the young player pondered

“Y/n does that quite frequently...” Laura laughed at your misery

“Really?? When?? You play here...” dear god that girl was naïve “... and she plays in Mexico”

“Whenever she's here... ain't that right Tygrysku??” Ewa pressed out before she broke down laughing again

“Can I come and play with Jenni too?” Esmee looked at you pleadingly

“NO” you exclaimed sending the people around you into a new fit of laughter

“Gosh...” the young player rolled her eyes “... you really are egoistic... playing with the best players in the world and not even willing to share”

“Oh she's sharing alright” Caro heaved out trying to get some air into her lungs

“Can you please stop” you pleaded

“Defiantly not...” Ewa pressed out holding onto Lauras shoulder so she wouldn't fall over from laughing

“Sweetie...” Laura started in an overly motherly voice “... Y/n isn't playing football with them....”

“Well... what else would she play with them?” Esmee looked confused

“They're...” Caro started before she had to think for a second “... shaking sheets”

“That makes no sense” Esmee rolled her eyes “... I know for a fact Y/n has a woman coming in once a week cleaning her flat because she's too lazy... I bet she's shaking the sheets too”

“No she's not” Ewa snorted “... not in that way”

“I want to die...” you groaned in agony “... can't the floor open up and swallow me whole?”

“They're playing... bedroom rodeo” the norwegian now clarified waiting for Esmee to catch on – and oh you could see the moment she did

“EW....” the young player exclaimed disgusted looking wide eyed at you “YUCK!!! That's basically mi Mamí you're talking about”

“DON'T call her that” you groaned your head in your hands trying to hide your beet red face

“Even the fans say she's basically my football Mamí” Esmee looked outraged at you

“Please... for the love of god... I pay you whatever you want... just...” you looked desperate which didn't go unnoticed by your girlfriends “... stop calling her Mamí”

“WHY???” the young one exclaimed and again the three players around you exploded laughing

“I think I'm gonna pee myself” Ewa was laughing so hard she hardly got any air into her lungs “... this is gold”

“Just...” you took a deep breath “... stop”

“Everything alright here?” you know heard the voice of Alexia right behind you and at the tone you heard that she expected an answer – most likely from you

“Everything alright” you turned around putting up your best (very pained) smile

“Then why are you looking like you just want to drop dead?” your girlfriend raised an eyebrow

“Esmee and I just.... settled some...” you started before Ewa interrupted you

“Misunderstandings” the polish player snorted trying to hold her laughter in

“I didn't ask you...” Alexia fixed her player with a glare “... Cari?”

“Y/n said I'm not allowed to call you Mamí..” Esmee exclaimed “.. but even fans say you're my football mom”

“Hmm...” the catalan hummed her eyes not leaving yours making you squirmy

“Come here...” Alexia said low but not low enough but you stayed rooted in your place not wanting to give the group around you even more material to make fun of you

“Really?” the blonde just raised her eyebrow giving you a last chance and you knew it “I advice you to think hard about it...”

“Can we please not here...” you said your voice quite sharp – sharper than you intended

“Watch your tone” Alexia was instantly in your personal space towering over you not even leaving you time to react “... now be good and come here”

“You're right in front of me” you snapped “... where should I go then?”

You should've known that it was a bad idea to challenge Alexia Putellas. With her being nearly 15cm higher than you, pure muscle AND spanish-hot-blooded you knew there was no way you would win fighting against her. So the second the words left your mouth you looked up in horror right in time to see Alexias face switch from surprised to disbelieve. A second later her big hand made its way to the back of your neck locking in place pushing you past her and through the whole room. To your relief no one except the small group who were the start of all evil noticed what was happening. Well... no one except Jenni of course who always had an eye whenever Alexia and you interact knowing that sometimes both of you were to stubborn to listen to each other. So the second she saw Alexias hand dart around your neck she was already on her way to interfere whatever argument you two were “settling”

“I don't know what was in that cup you had in your hand before” Alexia sneered the second the front door fell shut behind you two “... but you better pray it gave you enough courage to tell me what THAT was in there”

“You were right in front of me...” you grumbled back wincing a little bit when the blondes hand squeezed a little tighter

“Wrong answer...” the catalan sneered “... think again and think HARD what comes out of that bratty mouth of yours next”

“Well hello...” you heard Jennis surprised voice behind you

“You keep yourself out of it Jennifer” Alexia snapped shortly glancing at your girlfriend

“Ay... I did nothing...” Jenni lifted her hands in surrender “... I'm just here to make sure you don't kill her and end up in prison.. your ass is too pretty for prison”

“Oh you find that funny sí?” Alexia snapped at you shaking you a little bit by the neck as you snorted at Jennis comment

“You do have a nice ass...” you admitted the alcohol in your system not letting you grab the situation “... I must know... I stare at it often enough”

“Are you...” the blonde got thrown off track by your behaviour “... drunk?”

“Teeny tiny little itsy Bitsy bit” you giggled the alcohol kicking in full force now that you were outside breathing fresh air

“Mierda..” Jenni chuckled under her breath “... it took her all of 30 minutes”

“I can't even punish her for being bratty” Alexia looked outraged at Jenni like the older one stole her ice cream

“Amor....” the dark haired one chuckled “... either you sober her up or you wait until tomorrow and then punish her”

“How should I sober her up right now right here?” the catalan asked Jenni bewildered

“Ice water? Coffee??” Jenni offered knowing Alexia wouldn't have the heart to dunk you in ice water

“Uh” the blonde groaned while you looked intensely at Patris butterfly figure next to the door “... she'll cost me my last nerve”

“The joys of love” the older one snorted “... let her be for tonight Amor... I'll let you do whatever you want to her tomorrow...”

“It's not like I have a choice...” Alexia grumbled “... she wouldn't remember anyway”

“Let's get her some water... and some Ibuprofen” Jenni smiled as you tried to poke the butterfly wondering why it wouldn't fly away

It's not like you planned on getting drunk. But being a pro athlete that only has a drink now and then or at some celebration at the end of the season – that Mojito really brought you down. You didn't remember Jenni and Alexia getting you to drink glass after glass of water with you getting distracted every five seconds to the point were the blonde considered just hitting you over the head with a bottle so you would sleep it off. Jenni had a field day watching the two of you bickering the whole evening only stepping in when she noticed Alexia was near losing it. You didn't remembered that you saw them two kiss at midnight sending you into a frenzy where you actively ran away from them out of the house tears clouding your vision so that you fell over Patris porch railing straight into a bush of dark red roses. When Jenni and Alexia who were hot on your heels found you crying in them roses both of them really had to hold in their laughter. What they didn't expect was that you didn't wanted to be touched by either of them – it took a drunk off her ass Ewa Pajor to pull you out of the rose bush (with Patri yelling in agony about her damn roses) and an Ingrid Engen to calm you down so at least Jenni was allowed to sit next to you. When she asked what was going on with you knowing fully well that drunk you was a very emotional you you started crying again how your girlfriend Alexia kissed your other girlfriend Jenni and they both cheated on you with each other. Drunk you also didn't do common sense. Not realizing that your girlfriends were right in front of you. Alexia let out a string of spanish curse words how one could be so stupid making you cry even harder. Jenni got you to calm down by telling you she will have words with Alexia and Jenni that under no circumstances is it okay to forget about you but only if you'd agree to go home with her. You agreed under the deal of her sleeping on the couch – you were a lot but no cheater. The oldest one chuckled and agreed. By the time you three were home you were fast asleep against Alexias chest drooling on her crop top.

“I can't believe that happened tonight” the blonde rolled her eyes as she carefully slipped out from under you

“I can't believe I have to have words with myself” Jenni snorted reaching over you to unbuckle your seatbelt

“How did she get so drunk so quickly?” Alexia shook her head at your black out state

“She never could hold her alcohol” the dark haired snorted while she pulled you out of the car “... just... let's get her to bed”

Jenni should learn pretty quickly that this task alone was a whole other fight. You woke up the moment the dark haired one sat you down on the bed starting to open your Jeans. Alexia went into the Bathroom to get something to clean you up and to change you into (it's either one of hers or Jennis t-shirts) when she heard you panic screeching from the bedroom

“What's going on??” the catalan rushed back into the bedroom to find Jenni standing at the foot of the bed while you were pressed against the headboard a pillow pressed to your middle

“Ale...” you cried out

“Sí Cari?” the blonde features soften a little bit as you shuffled over to the edge of the bed, getting stuck in the blankets falling face first out of said bed to then quickly jump up wobbling behind Alexia for cover

“This woman wanted to.... you know” you whisper yelled behind Alexia with absolute urgency

“This woman???” Jenni exclaimed making you shriek ducking further behind your blonde girlfriend

“Bebé...” Alexia said softly “... it's okay...”

“No it's not!!” you huffed “.... she wanted to get into my pants!!”

“She's drunk... she's drunk... she's drunk....” the dark haired spaniard mumbled to herself so she wouldn't lose it while Alexia tried to not burst out laughing

“Normally you like it when Jenni gets into your pants” the blonde snorted “... come Cari.... let's get your drunk ass into bed”

“But....” you pouted “.... there's a stranger in our bedroom”

“Stranger?” Jenni looked at you with wide eyes while Alexia bursted out laughing

“It's okay Cari....” the catalan laughed “... she's a good friend... she just needs a couch to sleep on”

“Are you really kicking me out of OUR bedroom because of drunky there??” the older woman looked at Alexia outraged

“Just wait until she's asleep and come to bed” the blonde rolled her eyes manoeuvring you back onto the bed

“Since when am I the bad one?” Jenni mumbled as she left the bedroom

“You can come back” Alexia called out just as her girlfriend left the room

“I can't believe she declared me as a stranger who tried to rape her” the older one grumbled

“You know that she's not thinking straight when she's drunk” the blonde said as she pulled your pants off your legs

“But still... I'm her girlfriend!” Jenni huffed as she started to undress herself

“Yes you are” Alexia said carefully

“But?” the dark haired one asked an eyebrow raised

“You aren't around as much as I am...” the catalan pointed out “... we live together... and I KNOW you do everything possible to be here as much as possible... but...”

“It's not enough” Jenni sighed as she got into bed next to you

“It is Jenni... she's not thinking straight...” Alexia said softly getting in on your other side

“Apparently it isn't” the dark haired one huffed

“Don't get hung up on that....” the blonde rolled her eyes “... we'll find a solution one day”

“You both can move to Mexico...” Jenni kept her voice light even tho Alexia heard how much it hurt her girlfriend

“Not in a million years” Alexia played into it “... you know what they say... Barca is Alexia... Alexia is Barca”

“They can have a human sized cardboard cut out from you... can tape it to the side of Nuo” the older one chuckled tiredly

“You're an ass” the blonde chuckled kicking her girlfriend lightly under the blanket

You woke up because you felt so warm. Your head felt heavy and you needed a second to realize where you were and why you felt so hot. You turned your head to find Jenni spooning you from behind her arm loosely around your midsection while Alexia laid in front of you – more half under you. Of course you fell asleep in between the two space heaters you called your girlfriends. These two women had a body temperature from around 200 degrees and always complain how cold it was hence the extra blankets. You on the other hand were english – you literally melted every time you shared a bed with Jenni AND Alexia. One of them was bad enough but both of them... sudden death for you. But there was something else that made you feel hot. Alexias leg was slotted in between yours and her thigh pressed right into a very delicate area. If you were really quiet and REALLY carefully you probably could get away with getting yourself off on the Catalans thigh. You knew both of your girlfriends were normally dead to the world sleepers – even more when they have time off. So you really carefully started to move your hips a little to test the waters a little bit so even IF one of them woke up you could still play it off as getting uncomfortable and just needed to move a little. After your initial try you waited a few seconds to see if one (or in the worst case scenario both) of your girlfriends stirred but nothing. So you got bold. You pressed your centre down on Alexias thigh and out of reflex your blonde girlfriend flexed her muscle making you suck in your breath

“I hope you're not doing what I think your doing Cari” Jennis voice cut sharp through the silence

“Fuck” you swore and jumped a little turning your head quickly looking at your girlfriend with big eyes

“So...” the lanky spaniard looked at you expectantly “... where you doing what I think you were doing?”

“I....” you stammered “... no?”

“No?” Jenni raised an eyebrow “... to me it looked like you were trying to get off on Ales thigh”

“No no no no no” you quickly shook your head “.... I was getting.. uncomfortable... you both are too hot”

“Gracias Cari” the dark haired one smirked wolfish “... but I KNOW you tried to get yourself off... alone the fact that you waited to see if one of us would wake up... you know neither Ale nor I will let that slide.... even tho it was just an attempt... a very poor attempt”

“I didn't...” you started but one look from Jenni shut you right up

“Why are you two so loud?” Alexia groaned next to you

“Our dear Cari just tried to get off on your thigh and now is trying to lie about it” Jenni informed Alexia who shot right up into a sitting position

“You what??” the blonde glared at you which you couldn't quite take seriously since her hair was sporting the fresh out of bed look making her look like a confused Owl and not like Alexia “I can make people cry just looking at them” Putellas

“I... didn't...” you started but the way your lips pressed into a thin line told Alexia everything

“Oh I can promise you now...” the blonde looked down at you “... you will regret that”

“You wanted to come didn't you” Alexia whispered into ear while Jenni was busy eating you out “So you'll come... over and over and over again... until I AM satisfied”

“Ale... por favor” you whined trying to push Jenni away from you

“No Cariño...” the blonde whispered sweetly “.... you were so SO bratty yesterday... challenging me in front of everyone... then you called Jenni a stranger and hurt her with that... and THEN... if you weren't in problems anyway you thought it would be a good idea to use ME to get off... not very clever Bebé”

“Please...” you whimpered but with Alexia having your leg in a dead grip with her legs and Jenni having your other leg over her shoulder you had no chance to get away any time soon

“Come Cari...” the catalan growled into your ear “... come for me”

You did just that. Your back arched off the bed your body trembled and shuddered your eyes screwed shut as you came hard. Alexia smirked against your skin not letting go of you. You on the other hand didn't know where you were for a second. Not only did the blonde keep her hold on you also Jenni didn't stop. From your experience you knew the Madrista could go for hours.

“Ale please... no more” you begged the catalan who just chuckled against your skin before she gently nipped at it

“Oh mi Corazon...” Alexia shushed you “... you WANTED this”

“No I.... dear JESUS” you squeaked out feeling two of Jennis long fingers entering you roughly

“Just Jesus? The last time you called us “oh god”...” Jenni grinned from her position between your legs “... not doing my job well enough then...”

“Very well...” you groaned “... too well... enough well”

“Oh Bebé...” your blonde girlfriend now taunted you “... if you can still talk back then Jenni isn't doing her job properly”

“No... please” you begged again tears starting to form in your eyes when you felt the dark haired one thrusting her fingers in and out of you in a rapid pace and now on top sucking on your clit

“Ssshh Cari... let Jenni do her job and loosen you up for me” Alexia whispered sweetly her nose brushing against your cheek “.... you have no idea what I have in mind for you”

“Ale... por favor” you whined

“No mi Bebé...” the blonde kept her voice sweet “.. you wanted to come... now you'll come”

“I can't.... no more” you screamed out and still your body betrayed you reaching it's climax on Jennis long fingers

“Huh.... that just looked different to me” Alexia faked surprise knowing you wouldn't be done after two orgasms “... be good for us Cari”

“You are pure evil Ale” Jenni smirked from her position between your legs

“She ASKED for it..” the blond defended herself before she turned her attention back to you “... and whatever Jenni does to you know Bebé... I'll do too... only for twice as long and three times as often”

“No please” tears spilled down your cheeks knowing exactly Alexia would do just that to the point where you either tap out or use your safe word

“Oh sí mi Hermosa Corazon” the catalan murmured as she pressed open mouthed kisses to your throat

You groaned pitifully knowing you just.... lost. You feel Alexias evil smirk against your skin and right this moment you accepted your faith. The bed dipped but the blondes hand against your jaw and cheek prevented you from looking what's going to happen. But you didn't need to wait long until you realize what's going on.

“You're so beautiful Bebé” you heard Jenni murmur her hands stroking over your thighs her thumb digging into your muscle there “... you're gonna look even more beautiful stretched around my dick”

“No no no no no” you whined wriggling around but the dirty chuckle from Alexia told you everything you needed to know

“Sí Corazon...” the dark haired one smirked nudging your legs further apart with her own thighs making more room for herself “... just relax....”

You whined when you felt the head of the strap pushed inside you but at least Jenni was kind enough to give you a moment to adjust before pushing further until she bottomed out her hips flush with yours.

“So beautiful” the older one mumbled her hands gently stroking over your stomach “So tight”

“You're getting soft Hermoso” Alexia smirked looking over her shoulder at her girlfriend

“YOU are the one torturing her... not me... I'm just here to let her have fun” Jenni wriggled her eyebrows while she slowly started to gently thrust in to you

It wasn't something that you weren't used to – them speaking about you like you weren't lying writhing in between them. Most of the times you found it extremely sexy but today it hit different fuelling your insecurities and you knew you wouldn't be able to enjoy whatever they have planned with you if you wouldn't word your concerns

“Jenni... el alto” you grunted out and immediately Jenni stopped moving and Alexia looked back down on you – not that you expected anything else

“What's wrong Pequeña?” the dark haired one asked her brows furrowed

“I'm here” your voice raw making Jenni and Alexia looking first at each other than back at you

“Sí... we.. see that” Alexia said carefully not knowing what your point was

“... I mean.. I feel it” Jenni piped up getting slapped by the blonde on the shoulder

“I am HERE” you said lowly

“Sí Bebé... we see you” the blonde catalan said carefully

“Then don't talk like I'm not” you sniffled

“Oh Corazon” Alexia sighed leaning down again pressing her nose into your cheek “... lo siento... we KNOW you are here.... we KNOW”

“Sí...” Jenni nodded slowly not knowing if your head was in the right mindset to continue

“I...” you tried to find the words but you couldn't

“It's okay... breath for me mi amor” the catalan said her voice low “... while you are a brat sometimes you can always talk to us”

“I need you to relax for me Corazon” the dark haired spaniard above you said softly about to pull out as you stopped her

“No...” your hand basically flew to her hip your fingers grabbing the harness to stop her from moving

“Sí Bebé....” Jenni kept her voice soft “... your head isn't here...”

“I can...” you started again before Alexia interrupted you

“We know you CAN...” the blonde whispered “... but there's no use right now... I will get my way... don't you worry... but right now you need something else... you need us...”

“Don't tell me what I need” you snapped

“Cari...” Alexia warned you but she knew this was just a way of you coping “... this is going a VERY long year if you don't watch it...”

“I KNOW what I can take” you shot back a slight feeling of failure making it's way into your mind

“Basta” Jenni interrupted her voice strict “... let go Cari”

You begrudgingly let go of the harness and Jenni pulled back and out of you oh so carefully but still making you grunt in process

“I know Bebé” the dark haired one said softly as she wriggled out of the harness disposing it carelessly on the floor before crawling up your body pressing soft kisses to your skin “... you did so good”

“No I didn't...” you huffed “... failed both of you”

“Ay non of that” Alexia interrupted your train of thoughts firmly “... stop thinking... you did NOT fail me or Jenni or us... you made us proud by telling us what you need”

“Sí... so good for us” Jenni murmured against your skin “... but we need you to tell us what you need right now”

“I need...” you stammered “... I don't know what I need”

“Space? Gym? A run?” Alexia provided

“No” you looked at her shocked

“Cuddles? Bath? Breakfast?” Jenni smirked

“Yes” you sighed sinking deeper into the pillows letting yourself relax a little

“Which of the offered things?” your blonde girlfriend asked

“All of them” you answered like it was the most obvious thing making Jenni snort as she laid down next to you

“All of them?” Alexia asked her eyebrow raised but her eyes soft

“Sí...” you nodded letting the dark haired one pull you into her side

“You heard her Ale... vamos...” Jenni smiled widely keeping her tight hold on you

“You can also...” the blonde started confused and immediately Jenni shook her head

“Can't... someone has to stay with our Cariño” the lanky one smirked

“Increíble...” Alexia mumbled rolling her eyes swinging her legs out of the bed “... usarla para no hacer nada”

“Someone has to look after her...” Jenni yelled after Alexia who just flipped her off on her way to your bathroom getting started on that bath

“What do you want for breakfast Cari?” Alexia asked from behind you holding you securely in her arms while you had your eye closed simply enjoying the warmth of the water and the calming smell of Sandalwood, Chamomile and a little splash of citrus oil

With you being very open to stress and anxiety Alexia started quite early in your relationship to read and study about different ways to reduce your stress and calm your mind and body. You weren't open to everything she introduced you to like mediation. Even tho you could meditate if your in the mindset for it most times the quiet left you even more overwhelmed than relaxed. The blonde figured out very quickly that if the technique got pushed on you that you left the session even more stressed so she put a stop to it immediately and kept on looking for other solutions. Sometimes skin to skin contact helped you immensely and sometimes even the lightest body contact sent you into a frenzy. But what always worked was scent. If it was in form of a Bath like now or Candles or a few drops of oil that your catalan girlfriend sneaked on your pillow before you went to bed. And yet it was a long road to figure out what worked best. You absolutely despised anything too floral or too woody. Citrus always worked but citrus wasn't very calming so Alexia experimented a lot until she got the perfect mixture for you. She didn't mind one bit always one for learning new things exploring new directions. She even used Mapí and Pina a couple of time as a cross reference. Pina apparently was allergic to Jasmine – poor woman sneezed for two days straight after Alexia held the little bottle under her nose asking if she likes that smell.

“Breakfast is nearly ready” Jenni appeared in the doorway keeping her voice low seeing how you basically melted into Alexias embrace

“Vinga Cari...” Alexia mumbled against your temple “... esmorzar”

“No...” you whined your eyes still closed

“Sí... vinga” the blonde said pushing you slightly to sit up more

“If you move at this rate we can make dinner out of it” Jenni rolled her eyes disappearing again

“Come on Cariño....” the catalan poked your sides making you whine even louder “.... you know we'll never hear the end of it if we need too long and Jennis hard fought breakfast making is for nothing”

“We can eat it later... it's only cut up fruit” you whine sinking back slowly again

“I made eggs!!” your other girlfriend yelled from the kitchen knowing you and Alexia bashing her breakfast skills

“I rather get a red in a Champions League final than to end up in hospital again because of food poisoning” you mumbled making Alexia bark out a laugh

“We'll just let her eat first...” the blonde smiled “... if she drops dead from the chair we know not to eat it”

“You see....” you slowly got out of the bath “... food poisoning takes time... even IF she eats first... it's at least four hours until the symptoms kick in... I'm NOT risking it again”

“I'll never do anything for you again if you don't move your ass soon” the dark haired one yelled from the kitchen again and you heard she's getting annoyed

“We're already moving” Alexia yelled back wrapping you in a big fluffy towel

“Good...” was the answer you got as you pulled an old t-shirt (probably Jennis according to the length of it) and put on some boxers Alexia held out to you knowing you prefer those to “normal” underwear

“I don't feel good...” you mumbled your back pressed against Jennis front as you were laying on the couch her arm loosely around your midsection your feet in Alexias lap

“What's wrong Corazon” the dark haired one murmured from behind you her eyes closed as she was about to drift off to sleep

“My stomach hurts” you whine trying to get more comfortable

“Oh no...” your catalan girlfriend looked over alarmed “... not again”

“What you mean again?” Jenni lifted her head slightly looking at the blonde

“You cooked her into hospital before” Alexia said eyeing the lanky one until she caught on

“ONE time... that was ONE time” your girlfriend exclaimed

“Ale...” you whined holding your stomach

“Oh Bebé...” the blonde was up as a shot kneeling next to your body

“Hurts” you whimpered while Jenni looked flabbergasted

“I used the book you gave me for Christmas!!!” Jenni defended herself

“And still our Cari is laying here in pain...” Alexia snapped at your girlfriend “... Jesús Jennifer... why do you always have to offer to cook”

“I followed the book step by step” your dark haired girlfriend huffed starting to gently massage your stomach making you groan

“We should go to the hospital” the catalan mumbled stroking some hair out of your face

“Tea... we could make tea” Jenni said quickly “... tea is good for stomach”

That's when it happened. You quickly sat up thinking you need to puke. Alexia scrambling away thinking the same. She loved you but it was not on her new years agenda to get puked on by her girlfriend. But no... the burp that left your body was everything but NOT human. Jenni and Alexia looked at you like you were transforming into a demon right in front of you while you smiled happily instantly feeling better.

“Now I feel better” you declare grinning widely as you threw your body back on the couch getting comfortable again

“That was...” Jenni looked down at you then back up at Alexia

“... I'm at loss for words” Alexia shook her head still shocked “... how can such a pequeña Cariño make such a sound??”

“It's a special talent” you smiled cheerful “... you should look up the video where Mapí challenged me to do the Sprite-challenge... THAT was loud”

“I'm dating a child...” the catalan said bewildered “... a literal child”

“Found it” Jenni held up her phone grinning widely

“Two children...” Alexia shook her head stunned listening to Mapís voice cheering you on to ex the bottle and then the demonic sound coming out of the phone while Jenni nearly died laughing and you grinning pleased

#alexia putellas x reader #jenni hermoso x reader #woso image

163 notes · View notes

crstilia · 3 days ago

Text

Arcane actor AU scenarios!

☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

Jinx and viktor have a sibling dynamic and they always goof off on set despite not having many scenes together. They always get in trouble for talking during scenes they aren’t in and they are constantly told to stop laughing so loudly.

Vi has embraced the flop duo title and calls Jayce her “floppy.” The crew then surprised them with chairs that say “flop duo.” Jayce proceeded to cackle so hard he had to be escorted off set to get a breath of fresh air.

Caitlyn and Jayce love to film TikTok trends together and they did the “give me my money” prank on viktor. He hit Jayce with his cane.

“Ok so what is this?”

“Ok so me and Jayce have been seeing this thing on TikTok and you have to say “just give me my money” and then after wards we all clap.”

“Yeah! But you have to be dramatic or like funny when you say it.”

“Uhm? What’s the point in that? I don’t understand the joke.”

“We don’t either but everyone is doing it.”

“Hmmm… okay? I guess I’ll do your tic tac.”

“Ok I’ll go first… ahem… just give me my money!” Caitlyn struck a dramatic pose and Jayce cheered and whistled as viktor just clapped.

“Alright… just give me my money!” Jayce said it in a weird accent that made them giggle and they both clapped, Jayce clapping for himself.

“Ok… uhm. Just. give. me. my. money!” He said in a sassy tone and he smiled at the camera before he realized he’s been set up. He looked at Jayce and Caitlyn both of them averting eye contact and just snickering amongst themselves. Viktor took and deep breath, grabbed his cane, and threw it over his shoulder like a bat making Caitlyn and Jayce shriek trying to run away from him.

Mel made a secret group chat with Caitlyn, Ekko, and Viktor where they take pictures of their cast mates sleeping in their trailers. They make it a challenge to see who can take the most absurd awful picture. Ekko always wins because he’s always taking pictures of Silco with the .5 camera setting. Mel comes in second place taking pictures of Sevika since she sleeps with her mouth open.

Vander is seen as father figure by most of the cast mates and he always comes to set even in scenes he’s not in to make sure everyone is doing ok. He helps them with their lines, grabs them coffee, etc. He once had to give Jinx a serious talk because she was doubting herself as an actor. The conversation ended in them both crying and hugging each other.

#arcane actor au #arcane actor au is living in my head rent free please I can’t get this out of my head #Jinx and Viktor being sibling coded #Actor au to cope with the season finale #arcane #league of legends arcane #viktor x reader #vi x caitlyn #jayvik #vi x reader #caitlyn kiramman #Cait vi #vander #silco #mel medarda #Jayce x reader #sorry for the random tags

158 notes · View notes

noxitsnox · 3 days ago

Text

if we get too closе, would it be okay?

hyun-ju x gn!reader - highschool au

summery: hyun-ju came out to her- now ex- girlfriend who spread the rumor around the whole school.

tags: trans/homophobia (the word tr**ny is used one (1) time), bullying, hurt/comfort, lots of fluff i promise, let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: i am obsessed it's not fair. this is pre-t but i'm still going to use she/her pronouns for hyun-ju <3 also english is not my first language and this isn't proof read, so i apologize for any mistake. @exactlyinfp

hyun-ju didn't want to go to school that day. her girlfriend, ex girlfriend now, broke up with her just because she trusted her, because she didn't want to hide anymore and she believed that her girlfriend of almost two years would understand. but she didn't. she called her all kind of names and blocked her everywhere.

she hoped this was where it ended. that they could just ignore each other and keep living life as it is. it would have been so much easier that way. but the moment she entered the school hallway she knew something happened. the looks she was getting were strange, full of hate. definitely not the looks you receive when you just broke up. she tried to ignore it and walked to her class with her head down.

it was early. a lot of time passed before some of her classmates entered the room. maybe it was better if they stayed outside. their chatter died down as soon as they saw her. one of them, who was seated next to her, took his desk and dragged it as far away from her as possible. “you're sick”, he said under his breath. “stay away from me.”

she stayed silent as the realization hit her. if he knew, everyone else did too. fighting tears, she forced herself to keep cool.

slowly people filled the room. everyone ignored her, even her so called friends looked at her with disgust. only y/n seemed to be acting as if nothing happened. maybe they didn't know about it yet. they’ll turn their back to you like everyone else, she thought.

“oh hyun-ju, how are you?”

y/n waited for an answer that never arrived. so, with a sad smile, they spoke again. “it's fine. you don't have to talk with me. you have my number in case you change your mind.”

———

for the rest of the week she ignored everyone. she was barely alive.

every morning she entered school feeling like a criminal. her locker in the changing rooms was filled with insults. some guys even tried to push her on the ground. that was the only moment she reacted. she could ignore words, but physical aggression was were she drew the line.

every night she cried herself to sleep, wishing she had someone on her side, someone to talk to. her family didn't know about what was happening in school and she hoped for it to stay that way or she wouldn't even have a home anymore.

it was on saturday afternoon that she lost it. she was out, getting some groceries for her mother at the local market, and she saw her ex with her friends. she tried to hide before they could notice her, but she wasn't fast enough.

"oh god, isn't that that tranny you used to date?", one said pointing at her.

"don't say that out loud, please. what will people think of me?"

hyun-ju ran away without even taking food from the market stall. she kept running until their voice became indistinguishable echoes.

she sat on the side walk and took out her phone, looking for y/n contact. she started crying, the tears blurring her vision.

their words came back to her. you have my number in case you change your mind. were they serious? she hesitantly called them, hoping for the best.

y/n didn't take long to answer and for that she was grateful.

"hey, you called!"

"i- yes... listen can you, can you come here?"

"oh hyun-ju, you're crying? is everything okay?"

"i don't even know anymore. please, just come here." and with that she hung up the phone, quickly shared the position with them.

she hugged her knees as she waited.

———

y/n was happy that hyun-ju called, even if the situation wasn't ideal. even though they weren't intimate, they cared about her and it made them sad to see her suffer. especially if she was being ridiculed for something beyond her control.

y/n tried to get to her as fast as possible. they went out in their sweats without bothering to put on something nicer. they didn't like the idea of hyun-ju seeing them in that state, but they also realized that they had to put vanity aside at the moment.

as soon as she saw y/n she got up and hugged. they remained in that position for a while. hyun-ju cried and cried while y/n rubbed her back, doing what they could to comfort her.

"sorry... i don't know why i did that", she said as she let go of them.

"you don't have to apologize. do you feel better now?"

"i do, thanks."

an awkward silence fell until y/n suggested they start walking with a wave of their hand, "do you wanna talk about what's happening?"

"i just want to forget about it. can we talk about something else?"

"oh sure", y/n looked at her and smiled. "do you wanna hear about this manga i'm reading?"

a/n: i realize that for an xreader the reader is barely there 😬 sorry. let me now if you liked it!!

#squid game #squid game x reader #cho hyunju #hyun ju x reader #hyun ju #hyun ju squid game #x reader #squid game x you #squid game x y/n #squid game season 2 #🦑:sg

153 notes · View notes

jessiexflem · 3 days ago

Text

– oh, baby | jessie fleming x reader

content: pregnancy blurb, fluff, based on this request!

word count: 820

Blankets, car seat, clothes. Blankets, car seat, clothes. Diapers? No, they have diapers at the hospital. But, what if they run out of the size we need? No, they won’t, they have so many. It wouldn’t hurt to bring some of ours, though, right? You toss a few newborn diapers in your hospital bag, just in case. Do we need bottles? Shoes? Babies don’t even wear shoes. It’s January, though, what if her feet get co–

“Babe?” Jessie interrupts your thoughts, “Why did I find the television remote in the fridge?”

Your eyes land on the remote in your wife’s hand. You were flipping through channels this morning when you had gotten a craving for a mug of hot chocolate. But, if the remote was in the fridge, where was the carton of milk?

“Oh, I was looking for that earlier,” you frowned.

Jessie chuckles, placing the remote on the dresser as she steps toward you. She wraps her arms around your waist belly, her chest pressing against your back. She rests her head on your shoulder, “How are my girls doing?”

You groan, motioning at the half-packed hospital bag and pile of baby supplies strewn across your bed. You were eight months pregnant, and your doctor instructed you to be prepared for your baby girl to make her appearance at any point between now and your actual due date.

“What if I forget to pack something?”

Jessie bites her lip, holding back a laugh, “Sweetheart, I think you’ve packed the entire house.”

You sigh, turning around to sit on the edge of the bed, “I just want to be prepared.”

This was your and Jessie’s first pregnancy, and the stress of the unknowns of parenthood were growing and growing the closer you got to your due date. Your friends had been supportive, giving recommendations on what you did or didn’t need, and things that you could expect during each trimester, but you were terrified for what was to come once it was time to take your baby home. You and Jessie had enrolled in pregnancy and parenting courses, but you couldn’t help but worry about everything the classes didn’t cover.

You stare down at your feet belly as the back of your eyes begin to sting. “I don’t want to mess anything up,” you whisper.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Jessie frowns, kneeling on the floor to look up at your face. She grabs your hand, giving it a squeeze, “You won’t mess anything up.”

“I’m scared, Jess,” you use your free hand to wipe away a few stray tears, “What if I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“I know you’re scared, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t also absolutely terrified,” your wife admits, “but I also know that you’ve done everything you can to learn about what to expect, and what we need to prepare for.”

You shake your head, “What if it’s not enough? What if I’m a bad mom?”

“My love,” Jessie frowns, “I promise you there is no way that you will ever be a bad mom. Absolutely no way. Dare I say you’ll be the best mom. I won’t pretend like we’re going to know everything, but I know that even if we don’t, we’re going to figure it out.”

You take a deep breath, biting your lip as you mull over her words. Jessie had been amazing your entire pregnancy, from caring for you when morning sickness kept you in bed most of your first trimester, to running to the store at odd hours of the night for that one specific ice cream that you needed right now. If anyone was going to be the best mom, it was going to be your wife.

“Promise we’ll figure it out?”

“I promise.”

You give Jessie a meek smile, “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“Hush,” she rolls her eyes, moving to sit next to you on the bed, “I love you so much, and I can’t wait to watch you become a mom.”

“I love you more,” you press your lips to hers, “Are we sure she’s going to like her name, though?”

“Y/N.”

“I don’t want her to not like her name!” you giggle.

Jessie shakes her head, but a laugh escapes her lips, “Then we change it. I think little Miss Amelia will like her name just fine, though.”

As if on cue, you feel a foot start pushing into the side of your belly. You shift Jessie’s hand to where your baby was kicking and watch her face light up.

“I think that’s a resounding yes,” your wife’s grin pulls from ear to ear, “Isn’t it, Amelia? You’re kicking hard, aren’t you? Auntie Janine’s going to have you running shooting drills with her as soon as you’re out here, huh?”

You smile, your fears pushed out of your mind, “She already takes after her Mama, doesn’t she?”

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming fanfic #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming one shot #jessie fleming x reader #woso #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso soccer #canwnt x reader #canwnt #canxnt

146 notes · View notes

bosbas · 1 day ago

Text

Chapter 4: uh oh, I'm fallin' in love

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!daphne's best friend!reader WC: 2.3k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love, anthony being a big softie, mostly fluff, i still ship y/n and daphne tbh

Summary: At her wit's end after Anthony's multiple attempts to scare away her suitors, Daphne employs her best friend's help to keep her brother distracted while she tries to find a husband. It's a foolproof plan, except it ends up working a little too well. (or, a Bridgerton version of The Taming of the Shrew/10 things I hate about you)

June 16, 1812 - “How’s Mr Norwood?” you asked Daphne, sitting on the couch next to her in the Bridgertons’ tea room, her legs on your lap as the rain steadily poured outside.

Your best friend and her hopefully-husband-to-be had been looking particularly cozy as of late, and you knew that you had played no small part in making that happen. Unfortunately, Daphne’s happiness was often overshadowed by the small pang of guilt you felt every time you had a particularly lovely afternoon with her oldest brother.

“Oh, he’s lovely. I do think he’ll propose in the next few weeks,” she said excitedly, her legs dancing excitedly on your lap.

You squealed in response, absolutely elated at the prospect of seeing your best friend in a wedding gown before the end of the season. It’s practically all she’d dreamed about, and you couldn’t believe the time was so close.

“Where will you live? After you marry, I mean,” you asked, twirling a lock of your hair around your index finger. “If I have to travel to another country to see you, I’ll riot.”

Daphne paused, unsure. “We haven’t particularly discussed it. I think his family has a home a few hours away, but surely his older brother will inherit that…”

You sat up straight, realizing this was a sensitive subject. “That’s quite alright, I’m sure your dowry will be more than enough for a simple estate somewhere nearby,” you reassured, patting her legs comfortingly.

If they were truly in love, it wouldn’t matter how small or large their home was. But Daphne only hummed in response, looking out distractedly at the raindrops hitting the window.

Deciding not to press your best friend and potentially cause her more distress, you changed the subject.

Playing with the hem of Daphne’s dress, you said nonchalantly, “I suppose I’ll end things with Anthony right before Phillip proposes. There’s no real point in continuing the façade if Phillip has to ask Anthony for your hand anyway, so it’s not like we can keep going longer than that.”

Daphne narrowed her eyes at you, smiling slightly. “Really? I thought you two were having a lovely time during your courtship.”

You paused, your hand going still for a moment. “Well, of course. We get along quite well. But it’s not real, Daphne. I don’t really have feelings for him and he doesn’t really have any intention of marrying me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” you laughed at the absurdity of your best friend’s suggestion, sounding a bit panicked. “I couldn’t truly be interested in him!”

Just then, you heard the front door open and heavy footsteps coming down the hallway.

Recognizing her brother’s footfalls, Daphne called out, “Anthony, I didn’t know you’d gone out riding. It’s absolutely pouring outside!”

“I can’t believe it actually rained,” he groaned, his voice carrying across the hall. “I thought Colin just said that to be a nuisance.”

He peeked his head into the tea room, looking completely disheveled from what you could only assume was a hectic horse ride. His hair was soaking and stuck to his forehead, his sleeves were dripping water onto the carpet, and he was shivering slightly from the cold. And yet, you thought to yourself, he still looked more handsome than any other man in the ton.

“Y/N!” he yelped as his eyes fell on you, sitting comfortably on his couch as Daphne had her legs propped on your lap. “I didn’t expect to see you here. I’m sorry, I would’ve looked more… presentable. Or at least dry.”

It was the oddest thing, he suddenly seemed impossibly shy. You only laughed and shook your head, waving off his apology.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” you smiled, recalling how reckless young Anthony was when it came to riding.

Anthony crinkled his nose, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s different now, though,” he insisted, still sounding out of sorts. “I can head upstairs quickly to make myself presentable and greet you properly.”

“No, that’s quite alright,” you insisted, finding Anthony entirely too endearing at the moment. “I should probably head home anyway; I’ve been here the better part of the afternoon.”

“Let me walk you home at least,” pleaded the positively soaking man at the entrance of the room. “Or even just call a carriage.”

Your home was only a few minutes’ walk away, and you were usually happy to do it on your own. However, looking out the window you realized it probably wasn’t the best idea to head home in this weather.

“Very well then,” you conceded, finding it impossible to say no to Anthony.

“Alright, give me five minutes, then. Just let me change out of these clothes and I’ll be back,” he yelled over his shoulder, already out the door and rushing upstairs.

“So it's all just pretend, then?” asked Daphne smugly once Anthony was gone.

“Oh, shush,” you grumbled, shoving her legs off you.

But Daphne only laughed gleefully, a knowing twinkle in her eye.

---

June 19, 1812 - Anthony had gone into town on a fine Friday afternoon in search of a new pair of hunting boots when he spotted you some distance away. You were accompanied by your lady’s maid, and you seemed to be leaving the modiste.

Apart from noticing how stunning you looked, even in a simple day dress, Anthony realized a few things.

First, you were far enough away from him and positioned in such a manner that there was no chance that you would see him. He could easily just go on with his day, quickly find the pair of hunting boots he came for, and make his way home.

However, the second thing he took note of is that a gentleman such as himself would always go out of his way to greet the lady he was courting. Perhaps it was time to shift away from the tiring rake act he so often put on and act like a Bridgerton.

And finally, he noted that, in reality, he could come back for a pair of hunting boots at any time. However, he couldn’t unexpectedly run into you every day.

So, with all this in mind, Anthony determinedly shouted your name. When you didn’t hear him and kept walking, he yelled your lady’s maid’s name, who turned around to look at who had called for her. Spotting Anthony through the crowd of summer shoppers, your lady’s maid tugged at your sleeve, turning you around so you could see him.

“Oh, Anthony, what a surprise!” you called, unable to help the bright smile that lit up your face.

How gentlemanly, you thought, for Anthony to go out of his way to say hello. Perhaps he had left behind his rakish ways.

“It’s rather hot today, isn’t it?” said Anthony as he reached you, leaning down to kiss your hand in greeting. “What do you say about going across the street and enjoying some tea?”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. Greeting you unexpectedly and asking to spend time together? This was quite unusual indeed.

“Is there something you wanted to talk about?” you said, somewhat nervously. Had Daphne somehow let her plan slip? “We were due to see each other this evening at the Featherington ball."

Anthony laughed, enjoying your confusion. It felt quite good to be a gentleman, he thought. “Not at all, I just thought I’d take advantage of the fact that I saw you. I’m not particularly keen on depriving myself of the company of a wonderful lady such as yourself.”

You felt your face growing hot, completely floored by how lovely Anthony was being. It was like his usual charm turned up by a factor of ten.

Looking over at your lady’s maid, you raised your eyebrows to ask if it was alright with her if your plans were derailed.

“Nowhere else to be,” she shrugged her shoulders.

“Perfect, then, let’s go,” you smiled at Anthony.

Hooking your hand into the crook of his arm, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your stomach. Bit by bit, you were realizing you were in far over your head. So far you couldn’t even see the ground anymore. Anthony was turning out to be completely unexpected.

And though you were practically giddy every time you saw him now, you were also fighting to bury the uncomfortable thought that you might have made a grave mistake trying to mastermind your courtship with him.

---

June 23, 1812 - “Well, I suppose I should get going,” Anthony said to Colin, getting up from his chair as he looked at his watch. “Y/N will surely be expecting me, seeing as how we went to a ball yesterday evening.”

Upon hearing Colin snickering in response, the eldest Bridgerton shot his younger brother an annoyed look.

“Do you think this is funny? Wait a few years and you’ll be doing this, too,” Anthony scoffed.

“It’s not that,” said Colin, still chuckling to himself. “It’s just that she’s been here since this morning. I ran into her and Daphne a few hours ago.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” asked Anthony in disbelief.

Colin shrugged. “I thought you’d surely seen her. You’re the one courting her, after all.”

“Why didn’t she ask for me?” grumbled Anthony, mostly to himself. “Well, even more reason to go see her now. Goodbye, Colin. I would say it was a pleasure speaking with you but based on the last two minutes I don’t particularly think it was.”

In response, Colin half-heartedly crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it at his brother. “Say hello to your wife for me,” he teased, knowing Anthony’s aversion to marriage.

But his jab was only met with a slammed door. Anthony was too focused on finding you.

How on earth had he not noticed your presence in his home the whole day? To be fair, before you started courting, you spent copious amounts of time at the Bridgerton residence, with or without Daphne, and he wasn’t always aware until after the fact.

You had practically already been a part of the family, but it felt different now. He felt panicked that he hadn’t already greeted you, and he was worried you would hold it against him.

Rushing down the stairs, he ran into Daphne, who was shuffling through a stack of letters in the foyer.

“Who are you expecting correspondence from? A suitor?” he questioned suspiciously.

“She’s in the sitting room,” answered Daphne curtly.

Without a second thought, Anthony dashed across the hall, bursting into the sitting room.

There, he found you and Hyacinth sitting next to each other on the pianoforte bench. Your hands were on hers as you guided her nine-year-old fingers over the keys to form a melody. Startled, you dropped Hyacinth’s hands and turned to look over at the doorway.

“Is something the matter, dear?” asked Violet calmly from the other side of the room, quite used to the antics of her eight children.

“No, no- not at all,” gulped Anthony, not expecting to have seen you with his youngest sister. “I just heard Y/N had stopped by, is all.”

“That’s kind of you,” you said, smiling softly at the man you were courting. “Hyacinth seems to be a natural at the pianoforte.”

“Better than Gregory anyway,” said Hyacinth haughtily, eliciting a hearty laugh from you.

“Well, run along, then, Hyacinth,” urged Anthony. “I believe I should like to speak with Y/N.”

Hyacinth groaned, “She’s not yours Anthony. I believe I should like to stay," she said petulantly. "I was having such a lovely time with Y/N before you interrupted.”

She hugged you tight, lest Anthony tried to make her leave by force. Laughing, you hugged her back, patting her head soothingly.

“No one’s making you leave, Hyacinth,” you shot Anthony a playful glare. “I apologize for not finding you earlier, Gregory has just learned how to play chess and wanted to play a match. And then Hyacinth came in and thought it quite unfair that I had spent such a long time with Gregory and not her. And then, well, you know how they are…” you explained, your voice full of fondness for the youngest Bridgertons.

“Oh, do I,” said Anthony, walking over to ruffle Hyacinth’s hair affectionately. “Who won the chess match?”

Resigning himself to the fact that his little sister wouldn’t leave, Anthony made himself comfortable on the couch closest to you. And though he was hoping to spend some time alone– well, chaperoned– with you, he couldn’t deny that his heart was doing all sorts of gymnastics in his chest at the thought of the care you had for his siblings.

“We each won one and the third was a stalemate,” you responded, winking at Anthony and running your fingers through Hyacinth’s hair. “He’s quite good.”

“I want to learn how to play chess,” whined Hyacinth, detesting the fact that you and Gregory shared something she couldn’t join in on.

“I can teach you next time I stop by,” you promised, smiling fondly at her. “It’s quite a fun game, once you understand the rules.”

And at that very moment, Anthony knew he loved you. It had happened slowly, and then quite suddenly he was extremely aware of it. Much like you had made your way into the Bridgertons’ lives, you had made your way into his heart.

He knew he would be a fool not to see it. All he ever wanted was to take care of his family, and seeing you feel the same way was doing all sorts of things to his heart that he found impossible to ignore. You cared so deeply about his family, and it was difficult not to imagine the pair of you having a child of your own.

Anthony had decided. This was the first and last courtship he would ever have. He was falling faster than he could imagine, and he didn't particularly want to do anything to stop it.

—

previous part || next part || buy me a ko-fi!

Turn on post notifications for @bosbas-library to stay updated when I post!

130 notes · View notes