#so either my brain is really loving the A names today

[anotherqueersnailowner]

please name

pretty please™

I dub thee either Athena or Aria idk (fun fact! Aria is a music theory term, but I can't tell you what it means bc I am on the verge of failing the class but it's music-y I promise) but the longer I write this post the more the name Artemis is in my head so have fun with that you get THREE NAMES!!!! (if you want me to narrow it down tho I will try to but I promise nothing I'm SO SORRY FOR ALL THE NAMES I TOLD YOU IM INDECISIVE)

[atlabeth]

unadulterated loathing (pt 1)

pt 2

pairing: fiyero tigelaar x fem reader

summary: you are forced to partner up with fiyero on a history project. things don’t go as you imagine.

a/n: wicked was really good, i love jonathan bailey, and we're coming up on finals season which means im writing about how stressed i am. also halfway through this i realized reader is lowkey paris geller coded lmao. this got away from me so im splitting it into 2 parts, i had a lot of fun writing it so enjoy! also im high posting this so if there's any editing issues im sorry lol!!

wc: 5.5k

warning(s): reader is stressed to the max constantly. she is kinda mean to fiyero but he's into it so it's okay. mostly fluff

Your fingers were beginning to cramp. 

You should have been used to this by now with Doctor Dillamond. You’d been in his class for a few months now, and you graded essays for him often. He often had a propensity for verbosity, but this lecture had been an especially hefty one in preparation for your midterm projects.

He would be announcing partners before the end of class—much to your dismay, for you worked far better on your own than with others holding you down—and you figured you would want to have as much of a head start as possible. 

Great Oz, how you hoped you would be paired with one of your friends. Coralie and Ezura were your only contenders for top of the class—Elphaba had potential as well, not because of the magic she couldn’t control but because of the brain she very well could—and anyone else would frankly slow you down. Doing a large research paper with someone who didn’t care as much as you did would be a drag you didn’t care to go through. 

Midterms were only the most important thing, for they set the track towards finals and affirmed your skill with your assignments, and your first midterm was potentially the most important thing for, when completed successfully, set you on the correct track altogether. 

You tried not to think about it too much (though you failed almost immediately), for you were sure Doctor Dillamond would honor all the work you’d done for him by putting you with a suitable partner. 

“I see some of you are getting restless, so I will cut class short today.” Your eyes snapped up from your paper to see the professor smiling, and you could hear sighs of relief around the room. “I’m sure you’re all eager to know your partners for the midterm paper.” 

The sighs of relief turned to groans, and you had to agree. Assigned partners should have been considered archaic at this point in time. 

Doctor Dillamond trotted back to the projector and, with a bit of difficulty, replaced the image with a piece of paper. Everybody in the class was paired off in groups of two—you immediately started searching for your name, squinting slightly to see despite your spot in the front, and the furrow between your brows deepened when you realized you couldn’t find it. 

You searched instead for your hopeful options. Coralie was with Mayara, Ezura was with Nicholas, Elphaba was with Galinda—of course. You let out a slight huff of annoyance, not just at your disappointment but at the continued lack of your name. 

Perhaps he’d merely forgotten. You didn’t know how Dillamond could have forgotten you, seeing as you were only his best student and literal TA, but things happened. Your anxieties only grew as you heard the beginnings of whispers throughout the room as your classmates saw their pairings, either excited or dismal. 

“Class is dismissed,” Doctor Dillamond said. The room began bustling as students gathered their things, already talking with their friends or searching out their project partner—you heard Galinda squeal and saw her grab Elphaba’s hands out of your peripherals. You could only worry your lip between your teeth as you swept everything in your bag, hardly waiting a second before rushing up to Dillamond’s desk. 

“You didn’t call my name, professor,” you said, managing a smile as you tried to act like it wasn’t killing you. How could he have not called your name? Was there something wrong? Great Oz— had you been somehow moved out of the class? Was your work not exemplary enough? Your assistance not assisting enough? “I don’t have a partner.” 

His mouth opened, but you only found yourself continuing, the words practically tumbling out of you.  

“Of course, if you intended for me to be on my own then I am perfectly alright with that!” Your smile widened as your fingertips dangled over his desk. “I— I prefer it, in fact, so if that is it then there is really no issue at all—”

“Mr. Tigelaar!” he interrupted, and your head turned on instinct to see the eponymous boy arm in arm with Galinda (who was arm in arm with Elphaba) just in front of the door. “I hope you are not about to leave.”

Fiyero flashed a look at his companions before offering one of those easy smiles he seemed to always have up his sleeve. “You dismissed the class. I believe I am part of your class, am I not?”

“You are,” he said, “but you were not assigned a partner. Surely you wouldn’t be trying to get out of the project.”

Your free hand clenched as the threads started to connect. Doctor Dillamond wouldn’t do this to you. Would he?

That easy smile remained on his lips as he turned to Galinda and whispered something in her ear. She giggled and pecked him on the cheek before she walked out, pulling Elphaba behind her, and Fiyero sauntered over. 

“Of course I’m not trying to get out of it,” he said. “Whyever would you think so?”

“Your attempt at a quick exit before you could be assigned a partner,” the professor said. “But it is no matter, for your partner is right here.”

You blinked. He would do this to you.

Why would he do this to you?

“Well, pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand. “Fiyero Tigelaar.”

You ignored him, for you couldn’t look away from Doctor Dillamond. Would it be mad for you to strangle a Goat?

“Professor,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, “why?”

“Mr. Tigelaar’s grades in my class have not been satisfactory, as I’m sure he is aware.” Dillamond moved away from his desk, prodding the chalkboard with his head to move it out of the way. “I care about all my students, even if they seem not to care for my course. I believe a partnership for the two of you would be beneficial.”

Your jaw clenched. “So you’re forcing me to tutor him because he hasn’t got a brain.”

Fiyero chuckled. “Ouch.”

“Not tutoring, just working on your midterm together,” he said. “And if you end up teaching him a few things along the way, then we would all be better off, wouldn’t we?” 

“Professor, with all due respect, this is ridiculous!” you exclaimed. “Why should I have to risk my grade, my midterm, my standing altogether at Shiz just to help him?” 

“Should you perform the way that is typical of you, there should be no issues.” Doctor Dillamond gave you that professorly look and your teeth grinded against each other. How dare he try to take the moral high ground. “Now, the two of you better hurry off. You haven’t got forever to work on this project.” 

“Professor,” you whispered, determined to not let up, “why are you punishing me like this?”

“I’m not punishing you, my dear.”

“Fiyero couldn’t care less about any of this,” you insisted. “I’m going to fail my midterm and it will be all his fault!”

“If you believe he can make you fail, then you haven’t got as much faith in yourself as I believed.” Doctor Dillamond looked at you. “Trust me—and yourself—that this will all work out.”

You stared back—it was rather difficult to have a staring contest with a Goat. “I don’t suppose I can change your mind on this?”

“You’d be correct.”

You huffed and glanced away. “Fine. But expect those test scores to take an extra day.”

He let out a bleaty sort of laugh while you walked away. You considered it a credit to yourself that you held back the childish tantrum you wanted to throw as you moved back over to your desk to gather the rest of your things. You shoved your books into your bag with a bit more anger than necessary, and you heard footsteps behind you. You glanced over to see Fiyero sidled up beside you, leaning against the desk next to yours. 

“Surely you won’t be this irritated at me the entirety of our project.” He still had that unbothered smile on his lips, and it made you want to hit him. “It might make this a much more miserable partnership.”

You let out a mirthless laugh as you shouldered your bag. “Don’t act like this pains you. You’re just going to ride my coattails the entire time.” 

“You know, I hadn’t even thought of that,” Fiyero mused. “But now that you bring it up, I just may have to.” 

“For the love of Oz,” you muttered to yourself before mustering the strength to look up at him. “I have a myriad of things I need to do today. Why don’t you go bother your girlfriend for the rest of the day, and then you can meet me at the library first thing tomorrow morning so we can discuss all of this.” 

He shrugged. “Sounds alright to me.” 

“Good,” you said. “Because I meant every word I said back there. I will not have you ruining all my progress thus far because of your absolute refusal to think.” 

“It looks as if you could take a page out of my book,” Fiyero said. “You seem awfully stressed.” 

Your lips tightened into a mirthless smile. “I’m stressed because of you, Fiyero, and we have hardly even interacted. I dread to think of my mental state after a week of working together. Now, good day. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

You swept past him and walked out of Doctor Dillamond’s classroom. You felt his eyes on you until you turned the corner, and you had to resist the urge to look back. 

Oh, how you loathed group projects. 

-

The rest of your day was far more demanderating than it should have been, and you blamed Fiyero for it. You swore the clock went by half as quick and your lectures twice as long—it didn’t help that you were so distracted in chemistry that you nearly burned your eyebrows off from a potion gone wrong. 

You’d practically thrown yourself onto your bed when you got back to your dorm, and you didn’t get up until your roommate got back and demanded to know what had gotten into you. She didn’t exactly give you the response you wanted. 

“The prince is your partner?” Coralie sighed dreamily. “Oh, you are so lucky.” 

“Lucky is not the way I’d put it,” you mumbled, words muffled by the sheets. You finally tore yourself up off your bed and picked your nightgown up from atop your dresser. You went behind your folding sheet and began to change. “And I didn’t know you had eyes for Fiyero.” 

“I hardly have eyes for him,” she said wryly. “I just have eyes—anyone can see that he’s attractive.” 

“It doesn’t matter how attractive he is if he makes me fail this midterm,” you said. You straightened your nightgown then folded your school uniform while you walked back into the open, passing a glance at your roommate as you placed it on your desk. You then settled on your bed with a huff. “I just don’t understand why Doctor Dillamond is punishing me like this. It makes me reconsider all those late nights spent grading papers for him.” 

Coralie shrugged. “You’re one of his best students, Fiyero is probably one of his worst. I bet Doctor Dillamond figured you would be happy to take him on, what with how happily you take on everything else he throws at you.” 

You grumbled as you laid back against your pillows. “I just don’t know if I can take him on. Fiyero seems to care more about flirting with every student at this school than any actual material.” 

She gave you a mischievous smile. “Maybe he’ll turn the full force of his affections on you in return for your studiousness. Oh, how that would be a sight to see.” 

“Don’t even put that idea into the air, Cora,” you scoffed. “Besides, he’s clearly involved with Galinda. Even if I was interested, which I’m not—” you emphasized with a pointed look at her— “that isn’t something I want to touch.” 

“Well, you can’t deny that he’s dreamy,” she said. “He just showed up at Shiz and people started falling left and right. It’s more impressive that you haven’t.” 

“Because I’m here for one reason,” you said. “His whole… thing doesn’t fit into any of it.” 

“I know,” Coralie mused as she fell back onto her pillows. “You’ve told me your whole plan ten times over. I just think you should also try to enjoy your life instead of bulldozing your way through it.” 

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “I’m enjoying my life just fine, thank you.” 

Interestingly enough, Fiyero was going through something similar a myriad of rooms away. 

He laid on Galinda’s bed, his head in her lap as she trailed her fingers through his hair. She’d been going on about something for the last couple of minutes, but he hadn’t really been able to focus on any of it. 

“Dearest, did you not hear what I said?” 

Fiyero blinked at the sound of Galinda’s voice. He hadn’t indeed. 

“I’m sorry, beloved.” He absentmindedly reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze once he found it. “I was thinking.” 

Elphaba laughed from across the room. She sat on her bed with a book in her lap. “That’s a first for you.” 

“It is,” Galinda said, though with much more concern laced in her voice. Her hand moved from his hair to his forehead. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Just fine,” he assured. “What was it you were saying?” 

“Just lamenting on how awful it is that we’ve been separated for this project,” she sighed. “I’m sure I could persuade Doctor Dillamond to put us in a group of three.”

“You can’t even get him to pronounce your name correctly,” Elphaba said wryly. “How could you get him to do this?” 

“Well,” Galinda huffed, “maybe you could do it. He appears to like you more than me.” 

“I’m sure that really hurts,” she said. 

Galinda placed her hand on her chest. “It does!” 

“It’s fine,” Fiyero interrupted. “I’m alright with my partner. She’s nice.” 

“Nice?” Elphaba scoffed. “I heard her lecturing you the whole time we were out in the hallway.” 

“She’s passionate,” he decided. “Besides, I don’t really care. I haven’t thought about it since she left.” 

That was a complete lie. In truth, Fiyero hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you since you left. Very strange for someone who preferred to go through life with less thinking and more doing. 

He honestly didn’t know why his mind was so occupied with you. 

He’d always been aware of you, obviously—all your professors adored you, your name was always brought up when talking about top of the class, and he was sure you held the record for most time spent in the library at once—but he didn’t know anything about you other than your academic record. And for someone with such strong opinions, especially about him, Fiyero found himself with the strange need to know more. 

He would be at the library tomorrow. Maybe not on time, but certainly there. 

Fiyero would make this the beginning of a beautiful partnership, one way or another.

-

True to your word, you were in the library bright and early after a quick stop at the dining hall. You went through the effort of gathering everything you thought you would need—a myriad of textbooks and encyclopedias, your well-weathered notebook and another one for Fiyero because you doubted he had one, and enough writing material for the two of you.

You sighed. You had to do so much just to even the ground between your groups and the others. Coralie was always so prepared whenever you worked together. 

Fiyero, to your surprise, was only ten minutes late. You already had your head buried in a book when he said your name and scared you witless. 

Your eyes widened as they darted up to look at him, and he chuckled. 

“Sorry. You were in the zone.”

“I just wasn’t expecting you,” you said. “You’re late.”

“Hardly.” Fiyero took the seat across from you, his eyes sweeping over everything you had on the table. “You’ve got quite a collection.”

“I doubt you know your way around the library,” you said. 

“I know my way around a lot of things.” 

You leveled your gaze at him. Leave it to Fiyero to make everything an innuendo. “And is a library one of them?”

“I’m sure I could make it one.”

“If you bothered to think at all.”

“Darling, you know I’d never,” he said with a smile. “Now, what are we doing here?”

“Do you really not know what our midterm is?” you marveled. 

“I have more important things to worry about,” he said. 

You scoffed and shook your head. Ridiculous— it was ridiculous that you had to put up with this. Maybe Doctor Dillamond really did hate you.

“Our assignment is an extensively researched ten page paper on any great Ozian,” you said. “Anyone who has contributed to our society in a relevant way and made our lives better for it.”

“A ten page paper?” Fiyero frowned. “That seems a bit much.”

“Between the two of us, it’s just five pages each, and we’ve got two weeks to get it done,” you said. “I’ve written five pages in a few hours of inspiration.”

“Your life truly sounds thrilling,” Fiyero said. “We could do the Wizard.”

“Half the class is going to do the wizard,” you scoffed. 

“Because he’s a great man,” he said. “There’s no shame in it.”

“There is absolutely shame in copying half the class,” you said as you pushed over a sheet of paper to him. “Now, I’ve already got a list going. Look it over; see if there’s anyone you like or anyone worthwhile you want to add.”

You looked back down at your encyclopedia, opened to your personal favorite choice, and continued scribbling down basic notes. You glanced up a few moments later to see Fiyero’s gaze hadn’t wavered from you. 

You frowned. “Is there a problem?”

“You’re awfully prepared,” he said instead. 

“I figured you wouldn’t be,” you responded.

Fiyero’s lips quirked in a smile. “Then I believe that means you deserve to choose our subject.”

Your frown deepened. “Really?”

“Are you always this suspicious of everyone?”

“Just you.”

“Then consider this an olive branch,” he said. He slid the paper back over. “Who’s your top choice?”

“…Ilara Mayfair,” you finally said as you pointed at her on the top of your list. “She was a historical linguist, responsible for half of what we know about Ozian languages and how they connect and differ. She’s…” you cleared your throat and shrugged, trying to make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal, “she’s kind of my hero.”

“Your hero?” Fiyero’s eyebrows rose. “Is that what you want to do?” 

“…It’s always been my dream,” you admitted. “I grew up helping around my parents’ bookstore and her mark was on nearly everything. I really admire it. I want to make that sort of difference in the world.”

“How noble,” he remarked. What surprised you was how genuine he sounded. “It’s impressive how much of your life you have planned out already. All Galinda knows is that she’s majoring in sorcery—she hasn’t really got anything else worked out.”

“What are you majoring in?” you asked.

“Undecided,” Fiyero said. “I was kicked out of my last school before I could declare, so I figure there’s not really a point in doing it here.”

“Not really a surprise,” you said. 

“Really?”

“On your first day, you snuck off campus with half of Shiz to go dance at Ozdust,” you said. “That’s not exactly a good first impression.” 

“I’d argue the opposite,” he said. Fiyero tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he focused on you for a moment. His gaze made you uncomfortably aware of yourself. “I don’t recall seeing you there.” 

“That’s because I wasn’t there.” You looked back down at your encyclopedia to avoid his eyes. “I had more important things to do.” 

He frowned. “Do you ever take a day off?” 

“Of course,” you said. “There isn’t any class on the weekends.” 

“I mean with this,” he said, gesturing at all the books around you. “It doesn’t seem like you allow yourself a single moment of respite. When you’re not in class, you’re studying. When you’re not studying, you’re doing work. When you’re not doing any of it, you’re probably dreaming of your future assignments.” 

You felt your skin heat. Surely you weren’t that transparent. 

“...I don’t dream of them,” you defended. “Not— not always.” 

He laughed and shook his head. “You’re ridiculous. Do you know that?” 

You frowned. “How am I ridiculous? You’re incapable of taking a single thing seriously.” 

“And you’re incapable of not taking everything seriously,” Fiyero said. “It can’t be good for your health.” 

“I plan to get out of here a year early,” you said, looking back at your books. “I can’t slack off like you do if I want that plan to come to fruition.” 

“Oh, I’ve gotten out of every school I’ve been in a year early,” Fiyero said. “Sometimes two or three— Oz, sometimes I don’t even make it through the first semester.” 

Your eyes snapped back up to him, widened in instinctual panic. “What?” 

He burst out laughing, and it grinded every one of your gears. “Oh, I wish you could see the look on your face! It’s priceless— truly priceless!” 

“You’ve been kicked out of every school you’ve been to and you think it’s a joke?” 

Still laughing, he shrugged. “It is. Nothing bad has happened, and I’m still having the time of my life wherever I go.” 

You just shook your head as you stared at him, eyes still wide. “Are you always like this?”

“Utterly charming?” 

“Entirely insufferable.”

You didn’t understand how he laughed. Everything rolled right off him, like oil off a duck’s back, no matter how many times you insulted him. 

“You know, there are other things to life than your studies,” he said.

“Not while I’m here, there isn’t,” you said. “It’s the whole point of university.” 

“The point of university is to have fun,” he said. “You’ve seen how this place has perked up since I’ve gotten here, haven’t you?” 

“Not really, no,” you said. “I’ve been more focused on other things.” 

“Like?” 

“Like my studies.” 

“It’s like I’m talking to a broken record,” he marveled. “Have you ever had fun in your life?” His eyes widened comically. “Do you even know what the concept of fun is?” 

“Ha ha,” you said dryly. 

He tilted his head. “Do you?” 

You frowned. “Of course I do.” 

“Okay, then.” Fiyero leaned back in his chair. “Tell me about yourself.”

Your frown deepened. “We aren’t doing a research paper on me.”

“We’re working together on this,” he said. “Is it a crime to want to know my partner?”

A muscle worked in your jaw as you stared at him. He stared back, entirely unaffected. 

“If I humor you, will you actually work with me through this?”

Fiyero held up his hand. “Prince’s honor.”

Finally, you broke. You folded your arms with a short sigh then glanced away. “Fine. I’m from a tiny village in Gillikin that you’ve probably never heard of. I’m here on scholarship with the plan to graduate, become a historian, and make a name for myself.” You looked back at him. “Is that good enough for you?”

“It’s excellent,” Fiyero said with a smile. “Dare I say I’ve learned more about you in one short day than I have in the entirety of my time at Shiz?”

You gave him a fake smile as you tapped your book. “Open your textbook. We have a lot to catch up on.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re not going to ask about me?”

“I mean this with all due respect—what could there possibly be to know about you?” You raised an eyebrow as you counted off on your fingers. “You’re from the Vinkus, you’re a prince, and you’ve never read a book a day in your life.” 

“Oh, that’s not true,” he chastised. “I’ve read at least one—I just choose not to.” 

“Well, how about we make that two?” You reached across the table and opened his book for him. “Unless that prince’s honor isn’t worth a thing.” 

“Oh, it’s worth everything,” Fiyero said. 

You raised your eyebrows expectantly. “Then prove it.” 

“Very well,” he nodded. “I believe I can be serious for the next… fifteen minutes.” 

“You won’t even get through a chapter,” you said. “Thirty.” 

Fiyero frowned. “You set awfully high expectations.” 

“Why do you think Doctor Dillamond forced me to help you?” you asked. 

“Because you’re oh so nice and charitable?”

That got a genuine laugh out of you. If you’d been looking closer, you would have seen Fiyero’s smile grow, his eyes soften. 

“Of course. Now, go to the glossary, find Ilara, and start writing. I know practically everything about her already, so you need to catch up.”

“I don’t have—”

You held out your extra notebook and fountain pen and cocked your head. “Don’t have what?”

Fiyero chuckled as he took them from you. “You’re prepared for everything, aren’t you?”

“Always,” you said with a satisfied smile. “Now get reading, my prince.”

He pressed his hand to his chest and bowed his head. “At once, my lady.”

-

You looked at the clock on the wall. Fiyero should have been here by now. 

Granted, he was ten minutes late to your first meeting, but that was before he’d changed your expectations ever so slightly. Almost an hour had passed, and there was still no sign. 

Of course, it wasn’t as if it hindered your progress. You kind of always expected him to fall short—if he showed at all, that was a credit to him—so you already had half the outline done. But a small part of you that you’d never admit to might have actually been looking forward to his presence. 

You enjoyed the bout of verbal sparring he engaged you in. A lot of your classmates thought you were mean, and it never bothered you. Like you told Fiyero, you were here for one reason and one only, and the amount of people that liked you at university didn’t influence that at all. Your professors liked you and your grades were perfect—that was all. 

But you couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t… nice. For Fiyero to take everything you said in stride, with a smile and a retort of equal measure.

It was nice. But that was all. 

You were jarred out of your thoughts by someone calling your name. You looked up to see Fiyero sauntering over, bearing his usual smile and not much else.

“This is a library,” you said once he got closer. “You aren’t supposed to shout.”

He took the seat across from you. “I’d hardly call that shouting.”

“You aren’t meant to be loud,” you decided. “Why are you so late?”

Fiyero shrugged. “I lost track of time?”

“You know, we are partners,” you emphasized your last word, “so it would be helpful if you could try to put in the same amount of effort as me.”

“That seems impossible.” He gestured at your notebook with his head, your current page already nearly full. “You’ve got me beat on nearly everything.”

“It’s not that difficult,” you intoned. “I mean, just do some research outside of class.”

He stared at you expectantly, and you rolled your eyes. “I don’t know what I expect with you, honestly.”

“Exactly what you see, darling. Now,” Fiyero's gaze drifted over to the window, then looked back at you as he stood up, “what do you say we put a hold on things and enjoy this beautiful day?” 

Your brows furrowed. “What, you mean do our research outside?” 

“Is your work truly all you think about?” he asked in exasperation. “I mean leave the books and your notes and your stress here, and take a stroll around campus.” 

“I’ve had my entire life planned out since I was ten years old,” you said. “Of course it is. I am not going to have some— some—”

“Some what?” Fiyero interrupted. He still looked remarkably unaffected by your outburst, that sideways smile of his infuriatingly charming. 

“Some ridiculous, pompous, self-absorbed, lazy Winkie prince ruin it!” you exclaimed. 

“Lazy,” he mused. “That’s a new one.” 

“Of course you’re lazy! Why would we take a break when we have a project to do?” 

Fiyero looked at you like you were crazy— no, like he was worried about you. He shook his head. “You really do have a one track mind.” 

“When we’re in midterm season, yes, I d— what are you doing?”

Fiyero had started stacking all of the books you had on the table away from you, then he grabbed your notebook and your pen out of your hand.

“You need a break,” he said. 

“I don’t need a break, and give that back—”

You reached for your materials but only just grazed his hand before he pulled them back and set them on top of the pile. “When was the last time you saw the sun?” 

You scoffed. “I see the sun all the time.” 

“Not from a window in the library or your dorm.” 

You bit your tongue. Fiyero smiled and held out his hand. 

“You need a break.” 

You stared at his hand. He gave you a cloying look. 

“It’s not a good sign that you’re this against self-care,” he said wryly. 

You sighed and reluctantly placed your hand in his. “Fine.”

Fiyero grinned and he pulled you close. You yelped at the unexpected speed and you tumbled into his chest. Fiyero’s hand dropped to your waist, and for a moment all you could do was stare at him, wide eyed. 

“Shall we?” he murmured. 

You jolted away from him once you came back into yourself, your skin burning where he’d touched you. 

“We shall,” you said, a bit too forcefully as you started walking a bit too fast. 

Fiyero chuckled. He matched your pace easily, soon coming up beside you. “You’re already that excited?”

“Oh, shut up,” you bit out. “You’ve already gotten what you want. No need for more.”

He feigned naivety. “What would I possibly be doing?”

You shook your head with a huff. “I’m not entertaining that with a response.”

Fiyero simply hummed. You glanced over at him, still staying even with you, and then you let out another huff as you stopped. He didn’t miss a beat, pausing at the same time as you, then met your flustered expression with a smile. 

“Yes?”

“You’re the one that wanted to do this,” you said, gesturing in front of you with a hand. “So lead the way.”

“Gladly,” he said. “I’m very good at taking the lead.”

Fiyero started walking and, though you had half a mind to take the opportunity and dart back to the library, you found yourself following him. 

Cora’s words spun around your head as you and Fiyero walked together, about him turning the full force of his flirting on you in return for you being such a stickler for your midterm. 

That was the embarrassing thing; you didn’t even think this was half of it, and he already had you blushing—and for what? It was as if you’d never even talked to a boy before. 

You’d had plenty of experience back home. Village boys coming into your parents’ store to flirt at you, leaving notes in your desk in class, offering to walk you home at night—plenty of experience. 

It didn’t matter that you denied them all and never went anywhere because you had a one track mind even then, and that Fiyero had done what no one else had and gotten you take a break simply because he asked nicely—

You sucked in a sharp breath as Fiyero’s arm suddenly pressed against your chest, stopping you in place. Your head snapped up to look at him, mouth already open with questions loaded, but he gestured with his head before you could ask any of them. 

You’d nearly barreled right down the stairs from being lost in your head, without care nor consideration for actually taking the steps. 

“Mind the gap, darling,” he said. “Wouldn’t want you damaging that brain of yours.”

“…Thank you,” you said once you’d regained the ability to speak words again. “One of us ought to have one.”

Fiyero laughed as he took his arm away. “Certainly.” He used it to gesture down the stairs. “Ladies first—unless you’re unsure of your ability to conquer them.”

“I’ll be just fine, Fiyero.” You started the descent, Fiyero right behind you, and you let out another short sigh. 

There had to be something wrong with you. That was the only explanation for why you were acting this way.

Maybe you really did need to start getting more sleep. 

[ellecdc]

Baaaaabe 😫

Ive been sick for the last couple days, and as always, that first day was horrible. Ive had my brain legit decide it wants to inflate bigger than my skull capacity (long story short, pregnancy 🫡) and i got to re-experience that feeling for the first 12 hours 💀

BUT i came back and i was sooo excited for your updates!! They were soo good (please tell me theres a part 2 to that angst....pls 🥺) And i love our discussions in the comments 🫶

I do have another request though if you have the time love. Another possessive!wolfstar buuuttt..... make reader Jamie's sister (twins?)!! Its troublesome enough for James to keep Sirius' hands to himself, but full moon Rem?? He's a brick wall. Like somethings happening between the 2 and Jamie is chasing reader, then she spots Rem and hides behind him. James tries to reach for her and Rem is just kinda like "???? Excuse me, thats mine. Dont touch. James Fleamont Potter. DONT. TOUCH." without even knowing whats going on. James is incredulous (because thats HIS sister) and Siri is chuckling but it looks like Rem might actually bite Jamie's hand off so he moves between them to seperate them but Rem is also like "ExCuSe YOU??? Also mine. *to siri* dont touch him. *to James* dont touch them or you might not have all your fingers when you wake up!!"

And just the repercussions of this where James isnt allowed alone with either until a couple days passed the 🌕

Hope youre looking after yourself darling 🩵

I love James' sister trope - something about it screams fluff and perhaps a little angst but just in all the best ways. I would imagine his sister to be so much like him: mischievous, funny, and full of love. Thanks for requesting!!!

poly!wolfstar x potter sister!reader

There were quite a few perks that came along with being James Potter's twin sister. One said perk was having a built-in best friend from the moment you came into the world. Another was that whilst you were attending school, you had the benefit of no one being willing to mess with you on account of the company you kept - namely, your brother and his infamous friends who called themselves The Marauders.

What being James Potter's twin sister couldn't protect you from? James Potter.

What could protect you from being James Potter's twin sister? Being the girlfriend of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

You and James were leaving Care of Magical Creatures together, heading to meet up with Remus and Sirius near the Greenhouses when one Lily Evans walked by - graciously bestowing James the time of day for quite possibly the first time ever - when you decided that this was the perfect pranking opportunity.

You really couldn't be blamed for what happened next: it truly was a gift bestowed upon you by the great pranking gods, and who were you to deny it?

"Hello, Potter." Lily said, causing James to gasp dramatically.

"Hello, Lily! Beautiful day out today, innit?"

Lily couldn't help but snicker at the sickeningly wide grin that took over James' face.

"Oi, Jamie. I forgot to tell you: mum sent that rash cream you were asking for. She said to remind you it's only safe to put around your anus, not in it." You proclaimed loudly, pretending to read from a 'letter' your mother had sent.

The courtyard became incredibly quiet before what you recognized to be Barty Crouch Junior's laugh echoed the space, triggering the snickering of all those present.

"You are so dead!" James sneered and you didn't hesitate to take off in a sprint - knowing your brother was a mere few paces behind you.

"You slithering little snake! She finally starts coming around - are you kidding me!?" He shouted as you swerved between bodies standing in your way whilst he just barrelled right through them.

Suddenly, you saw salvation in the form of one Remus John Lupin.

Now, granted, Remus didn't always protect you from your squabbles with James. Part of the reason for that was because half of the time you sort of deserved it (much like today), and the other part was that he claimed he didn't know what proper protocol was in sibling relationships on account of him being an only child. Sirius, a brother himself, had no such qualms and always took your side.

However, you knew that the full moon was in a mere two more sleeps, meaning Remus was at his most protective (read: possessive) which did not distinguish James Potter as friend, sibling, nor pack.

Right now: James Potter was only a threat.

And, let's be honest, being James Potter's twin sister, and a girlfriend to Remus Lupin and Sirius black also meant you were mischievous as hell. So you had no trouble using this to your utmost advantage.

You squeaked in terror as you slid behind Remus' lanky frame a moment before James - the bastard - slammed into his form and all but bounced off of Remus. James was admittedly more muscular than Remus, but Remus' height and werewolf strength left him towering above James as the dumb sod picked himself up off the ground.

"What in the buggering hell is going on?" He spat at James as one of his arms wrapped behind him, shielding you from your fuming brother.

"That sneaky little witch just embarrassed me in front of Lily!" James barked, looking like he was still trying to figure out how to get around Remus in order to strangle you.

"Please," Sirius drawled as he walked over casually, "like you need any help in that department Prongs."

You tried to hide your snicker, but from Remus' glance at you through the corner of his eye, you knew he caught it.

"She told the entire courtyard I needed cream for a rash on my anus!"

Sirius doubled over in laughter and you preened when you noticed Remus let out a soft chuckle himself.

"It's not sodding funny you wanker! Lily spoke to me first today! I'm going to kill you!" James snarled, moving his attention from Sirius to you.

As James stepped forward menacingly, Remus grabbed the collar of his shirt. "Prongs, enough." He barked.

Sirius was still laughing when he moved to stand between Remus and James, releasing James' shirt from Remus' fist.

"Okay, down boy." Sirius snarked, patting James' shoulder consolingly.

"Oh, sod off." James muttered, elbowing Sirius as he moved to step away.

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding and tried to even out your breathing; lungs still burning from your run.

"You okay, dove?" Remus asked you so gently as he bent down to make eye contact with you. His face screamed love, attentiveness, and care, making you feel slightly guilty for having shoved him in the middle of your tomfoolery.

"I'm fine, Moons. Sorry for causing trouble." You answered solemnly.

His face picked up slightly at your words as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "You wouldn't be you if you weren't causing trouble, love."

Your tender moment was interrupted by a yelp, causing the two of you to turn only to notice James and Sirius wrestling. James seemed to have gotten Sirius into a headlock, and the sod wasn't willing to tap out - still kicking and clawing at James in anyway he could.

"Oi!" Remus shouted as he plucked Sirius out of James' grasp and shoved him in the direction of the castle. James used his momentary distraction as an opportunity to set his sights back on you as he lunged, tackling you to the ground.

"Fuckin' hell Jamie! You weight a tonne!" You shouted, kneeing him in the gut. James doubled over and rolled onto his side in the fetal position.

You didn't even get a chance to right yourself before you were thrown over Remus' shoulder who was still shouting at Sirius to "get back to the dorm. The both of you are staying within my sights for the next foreseeable future" as you all left James with the wind knocked out of him, keeled over on the castle grounds.

[puckinghischier]

Neighbors

nico hischier x fem!reader

summary - reader can’t bring herself to talk to her new neighbor

notes - guess who’s backkkkkk!!! y’all i have missed writing so much, and i’m so happy i could get this out to y’all. i’m a bit rusty so keep that in mind while reading, but i hope you enjoy it anyways. and as always, happy reading 🫶🏼

request - from my 400 follower celly - “Abort mission, I repeat, abort mission!” “What do you mean abort mission? All you were doing was introducing yourself to your neighbor?” “Yeah, and he’s too attractive. I can never speak to him again” with either luke or nico

[3.3k]

“I really think today is the day, Mia,” you speak in to the cell phone wedged in-between your shoulder and cheek, putting away a few decorative trinkets on the newly hung shelf above your TV.

“You’re telling me you’re actually going to talk to him?” She questions, her tone telling you she doesn’t believe you in the slightest.

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you miss ‘I don’t believe my best friend has the guts to talk to a cute guy,’” you huff out, stretching your arm as much as you can to reach the high shelf.

“I mean, your track record precedes you, Y/N. You’ve said for three weeks now you’re going to introduce yourself and the universe has given you every opportunity possible,” she references the several hallway and elevator encounters you’ve told her about. “but, instead of hearing about a meet cute to an epic love story each week, all I get are stories of why you couldn’t say more than a garbled hi to him before darting into your apartment.”

Finally reaching the shelf, you huff both in response to her statement and the large reach you just accomplished.

After moving in to your new apartment a month and a half ago, you learned on your second day here that your neighbor directly across the hall from you is the most attractive guy you’ve ever met.

You ran into him while carrying a few boxes up to your new space, almost plowing him over while stepping out of the elevator because of your blocked field of view from the stack of boxes.

You apologized profusely, your line of sight still blocked, telling the stranger you know you shouldn’t be carrying this many boxes at once, but you really didn’t want to make another trip down and up. You made a bad joke about deciding to test out your sonar detection incase your eye sight ever left, and gave a few low, drawn-out beeps resembling those you’ve heard on TV.

When you heard the deep chuckle from the other side of the boxes, you turned yourself sideways to see who you almost ran over.

The man standing before you was simply the most attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life. His dark, incredibly soft looking hair matched his dark brown eyes perfectly. The light dusting of facial hair covering his face was definitely working in his favor. The smile on his face was really what made your cheeks heat, though.

Feeling the embarrassment of your terrible joke creep up your neck, you slipped out one more sorry and then all but sprinted to your (thankfully) unlocked door, not even offering your name.

It was that night you told Mia about the handsome stranger, vowing that you were going to redeem yourself one of these days.

Since then, you’ve ran into him what seems like every other day, but never could find the brain power to actually speak to him. It’s either the cliché of both of you leaving your apartment at the same time, or you both end up in the elevator together in complete silence due to your avoidance of uttering anything embarrassing in the confined space. There was one time you unknowingly parked your car beside of his, the two of you walking together the entire way up from the garage to your floor with only a small hi and a wave from you, because you pretended to be listening to your headphones in order to avoid awkward small talk.

“Well, I was never ready all of those times,” you rotate your shoulder in a few circles, trying to work out the small sting you caused. “This time I’m ready. I can feel it.”

“If I was the one living next to him I’d be feeling something alright,” Mia quips back in a suggestive tone, leading you to scoff at her raunchy joke.

“Mia, I’m being serious. I think today’s the day. It’s Tuesday, so I’m pretty sure he should be getting back from the gym around three, which means if I go down to the lobby and pretend to be getting back from a walk around that time I’ll have the perfect in,” you confide your plan in her, having thought about your strategy since last night.

“You are being so insane right now, can you even hear yourself? Just go knock on his door and ask to borrow sugar or something. Then, when he asks what you’re cooking, invite him over for dinner and BAM! a date you didn’t even have to try for,” she suggests.

“Mia, that sounds like the start to a bad porno, I’m not doing that,” you refuse her suggestion right as you hear several loud voices coming from the hallway outside of your door.

Walking over to look into the small peephole, you see not only your attractive neighbor, but several other insanely good looking-men standing outside of his door. You look down at the watch on your wrist, noticing it’s only two, confused as to why he’s home right now.

You can hear Mia chattering away in your ear, but you have no clue what she’s saying, your brain too focused on the men in your hallway.

“Mia, shut up. He’s home,” you interrupt your best friend, causing her to pause momentarily.

“What do you mean he’s home? Did you not just tell me he would be home at three?” she asks you.

“I mean, that’s how it’s been every Tuesday until now. But he’s home. And he has…friends over,” you whisper, worried that if you can hear them they can hear you.

“Friends? Like, other guys? Or does he have a bunch of girls over? Y/N, if he has a bunch of girls at his apartment right now maybe this isn’t the kind of guy you want to go after. Seems like he can’t make up his mind. Or maybe he’s trying to be the next Hugh Heffner and is holding auditions out of his apartment,” you listen to her ramble. “And if that’s true you definitely don’t want to involve yourself with all that. I mean, can you imagine-“

“Mia, so help me God if you don’t shut the fuck up right now I’ll hang up on you,” you snap out, not enjoying her wandering mind.

Watching the men on the other side of your door laugh and converse has you even more curious. You’ve wondered since you moved in what he does for work. The hours he comes and goes are often inconsistent and don’t line up with any job you know of. He never seems to have the same days off, and sometimes you even go several days without seeing any sign of him.

You’ve wondered if he was a doctor, because it would explain the late nights and odd hours, but you’ve never seen him wearing scrubs, all of the men in the hallway currently sporting athletic wear. You thought maybe he was a lawyer, because you see him wearing suits pretty often, but he never carries a briefcase or anything else to prove your theory. You’ve even contemplated that he owns his own company, seeing as he seems to work when he wants and would explain the random down time in the middle of week days.

Of course, you understand you also have a lot of free time during the week, but you have a typical, nine to five office job, you just haven’t started at your new branch yet. Which is partially to blame for the new found obsession with your new neighbor’s whereabouts. You have way too much free time on your hands.

“Damn, someone’s grumpy today. It’s all that pent up frustration from not talking to mystery man. Just go outside and say hi already. Or is today really not the day?”

Even though she can’t see you, you roll your eyes at your friend’s words.

She’s teased you endlessly about this since the second you mentioned him to her. She’s even made a tally of how many times you’ve claimed you were going to speak to him and then didn’t (13 times to be exact). You know she’s just poking fun, but you also know she won’t stop doubting you until you actually do it.

It’s this that prompts you to tell her “You know what, fuck it. Today is the day,” and open your door.

The voices in the hallway stop, all four heads turning to look at you.

Your phone is still being held to your ear with one hand, while the other hangs down at your side.

Your neighbor, standing in the middle of the group, gives you a warm smile, taking in your appearance.

When you look down at your stained t-shirt and your neon pink pajama pants, you mentally palm your forehead, not even thinking to change before making your grand gesture.

Looking back up at the group, heat rising up your neck and to your cheeks, you freeze, the simple “Hi” lost on your tongue.

With furrowed brows and a tilted head, your neighbor speaks out a soft, “Hey there, you okay?”

You nod your head a little too aggressively and manage to squeak out a ‘Fine! Peachy! Never been better!” before slamming your door.

Turning and leaning against the cool door, you close your eyes and try to block out the memory of what just happened.

“Girl…I don’t know what just happened, but that didn’t sound like a hi,” Mia speaks from the phone, startling you, having completely forgotten you were on the phone.

“Abort mission, I repeat, abort mission,” you shake your head no.

“What? Abort mission? All you were doing was introducing yourself to your neighbor? Just go back out there and try again,” she suggests, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“Yeah, and he’s too attractive. I can never speak to him again. Plan be damned, I’m going to have to move apartments again,” you whine out to her, letting the dramatics take over.

“Oh shut up, it’s not that bad. I’m sure he’s already back to talking about whatever with his friends. He’s probably not even going to remember it by the next time you see him,” she refuses to play into your drama. “Plus, you’re a catch. I’m sure he’s been as curious about you as you are about him. Sometimes the silent treatment works wonders.”

A knock on the door you’re leaning against startles you, causing you to jump away from it as if it’d burned you.

“Mia, someone’s knocking,” you whisper, looking out of the peep hole to see your neighbor’s smiling face looking back at you.

You let out a small yelp, jumping back again while covering your mouth with your hand, knowing it’s likely he just heard you.

“Mia it’s him. He’s literally knocking on my door, what do I do?” you ask he as he knocks again.

“Oh my god, you dumbass, answer it! This is your in!” she exclaims through the speaker.

“I can’t answer it! I’m wearing a ridiculous outfit! And I just opened and slammed my door in his face like a freak. Plus-“ you’re cut off by a muffled voice.

“You alright in there? I know you’re standing at the door, I can hear your voice. I just want to make sure you’re okay and didn’t need anything. Sorry if we startled you,” his accented voice carries through the thin door.

“I’m hanging up now, go talk to your man,” Mia chuckles and hangs up the phone, leaving you on your own to deal with the situation before you.

Cursing her, you bring your phone away from your face and wipe your hands on your fluffy pants.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry about that,” you speak through the door.

“You know, if you open the door I won’t bite,” your neighbor jokes, causing another wave of embarrassment to settle in your stomach, not knowing why you decided that talking to him through the door was a normal thing to do.

Taking a step towards the door, you reach for the handle and open it. You’re greeted with the handsome stranger standing not even a foot from your door, no sign of his friends.

He gives you an amused, but warm smile.

“See? It’s just little old me out here,” he brings his hands up in a surrender pose.

You give him a nervous laugh.

Observing his athletic attire, you admire the poorly hidden muscles peeking out from under his compression shirt. The sight makes your cheeks tinge red once again.

When he senses you’re not going to speak, he breaks the silence instead.

“So, you sure you’re okay? You seemed a little…frazzled a few minutes ago. Wanted to make sure we didn’t scare you or anything,” he starts. “I imagine four large hockey players standing outside of your door might seem a little intimidating to a single woman living alone,” he brings his hands down from his face, sticking them in the pockets of his athletic pants.

You wonder if the surprise is evident on your face. In all the time you’ve spent brainstorming about his career, hockey never crossed your mind. You knew your new city had a huge hockey following, but you never thought you were living across from one of the sports’ players.

Realizing you still haven’t said anything, you clear your dry throat.

“Oh, no, you guys didn’t scare me. I just…I don’t know why I opened the door, to be honest. Guess I had a major brain fog moment or something,” you lie, hoping he buys your lame explanation.

The man standing in front of you lets out a small laugh, shaking his head slightly.

“Well, as long as we didn’t scare you, I guess we’re alright then.”

“Yup, we’re good,” you pop the ‘p’, rocking on your heels slightly, needing to channel your nervous energy somehow.

You expect this to be the end of the conversation, but he still stands there, observing you.

“So, do I get to know your name, neighbor?” he questions you, breaking the silence between the two of you for the second time.

His question surprises you slightly, not expecting him to drag the conversation out any longer.

“Well, I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” you hear the words come out of your mouth, with an unintentional flirtatious undertone.

“Nico,” he tells you with a smirk, leaving room for your own reply.

“Y/N,” you move to cross your arms over your chest.

“Since you didn’t protest, I’m guessing you are?” he asks vaguely, causing your brows to furrow in confusion.

“I’m what?”

“Single and living alone,” his smirk only deepens.

Well shit. Is he…flirting with you? While you’re dressed like this? And have only ever made terrible impressions on him before?

“Well, Nico, that depends on why you’re asking,” your mouth is apparently miles ahead of your brain right now, not knowing where this sudden burst of confidence and flirty personality is coming from. “Are you asking because you’re curious about your weird new neighbor, or are you asking because you’re some kind of serial killer that’s stalking his prey?”

This earns a real laugh from him, not just a short chuckle, and you want to melt at the sound.

“I’m asking because I think my new, ‘weird’ neighbor just so happens to be very attractive, but I can tell that she’s far too shy to ever make a move on her own, so I figured I’d help her out a little bit,” he leans forward slightly.

His words make your mouth snap shut and causes you to stand up a little taller, not at all prepared for the conversation to take this direction.

All these weeks of you avoiding Nico, dodging him in the hallway and the elevator, flat out ignoring him from the car garage to your doors, not even being able to say one coherent word to him, and it’s all been pointless? He’s been thinking about you all this time too?

You feel so stupid in this moment. Knowing that he caught you, and knew that you were running from him this whole time makes you squirm, and not in a good way.

Your mind immediately goes back to Mia’s words not only earlier today, but every other time you’ve discussed the man standing before you. Her insistence that you were psyching yourself out for nothing and all you had to do was talk to him echoes through your mind.

“Oh…uh…well…in that case, yeah. I live single. Wait, no, I mean, I’m alone,” you wince, hearing the trainwreck coming out of your mouth. “Okay, I’m just going to shut up now and nod my head,” you shake your head yes, preventing any more jumbled words.

Nico laughs at you once again, clearly amused and not at all repulsed by your awkward nature.

“Well, I live single too. Just incase you were wondering,” he echoes your previous word stumble, shoulders still shaking from laughter.

“Twinsies,” you blurt out, holding your hand out for a high-five.

Before you can make your brain work like a normal, functioning person, Nico slaps his open palm against yours, biting his lip to keep from laughing again.

“I think I’m going to stop while I’m still slightly ahead,” you start, taking a step back into your apartment. “Thanks for checking on me, but clearly I’m lacking any coherent braincells right now, so I think I’m gonna get back to decorating,” you try to end the conversation, not wanting to give yourself anymore embarrassing moments to keep you up at night.

“Wait!” Nico quietly shouts, his face showing it was his turn to be embarrassed, clearly not meaning to have screamed in your face.

You pause the closing of your door, staring at him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout. It’s just, do you want to grab dinner sometime? If you’re not interested that’s fine, but I wanted to at least put the offer out there before I don’t get the chance to speak to you again for another month,” he rushes his words a bit.

You’re so shocked you just stand there and stare at him for a solid minute, the braincells you lacked mere minutes ago now bouncing around in your head like a pinball machine.

Nico stands there expectantly, waiting on either an acceptance or rejection.

“Are you sure?” is what you manage to come up with.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Nico huffs out a laugh through his nostrils. “I’ll even do all the talking if you want.”

You knew you were already going to accept, but his offer made you feel slightly warmer inside. Obviously, he’s been victim to your inability to coherently speak during moments like these, but not pressuring you to carry a majority of the conversation and still wanting to spend the time with you despite your nervous habit sealed the deal even further.

Not trusting yourself to not botch your words once again, you nod your head yes, unable to hide the smile that makes its way onto your face.

Nico returns your smile, a triumphant look in his eyes letting you know he was genuinely worried you’d say no.

“Alright. Good. Awesome. Great.” Is all he says, taking a small step back towards his door.

“Well now you sound like me,” you tease, that small bit of confidence making its way back to you.

“Guess you’re rubbing off on me already,” he shrugs. “See you around?” he continues to walk backwards until he meets his closed door, jumping slightly when he runs into the solid material.

You giggle at him, nodding your head yes again, finding his sudden nervousness cute.

“See you around, Nico,” you give a small wave before shutting your door, taking in what just happened.

You unlock the phone still in your hand, clicking on Mia’s contact before bringing it up to your ear.

“Listen I know you’re mad at me, and I probably shouldn’t have hung up on you, but I knew you wouldn’t talk to him if I was on the phone and you needed a push, so really I did you a favor-“

“Mia, today was the day,” you interrupt another one of her rambles, grinning while hearing her screams to spill every detail.

[imaluvsj7]

緑 ──── NIGHT WALK & SHARED MEMORIES ; park jongseong

SYNOPSIS : reader and fiance jay share some memories and laughter along with some words of appreciation for each other

PAIRINGS : female reader x jay enhypen

GENRE : fluff, slighty suggestive but no smut / no nsfw ; WC : 1,323

WARNINGS : english is not my first language, proofread but there are chances of typos and mistakes mention of marriage, food (seafood) mentioned, slightly traumatic dump of the reader being an older sibling and child, jay being a single child mentioned, past family arguments and disagreement mentioned for the plot but no argument occurring, slightly cringe couple talks, that's it!!! It's all fluff and safe to read.

AUTHORS NOTE : there are so little sfw jay works, so me being a responsible jay stan fulfilling my jay girlies, writers please write about jay I can't find many works to read also if you all have any jay recs please drop :((

DISCLAIMER : This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

second person pov:

Sitting inside the car, you grab your purse and your essentials and throw it in the backseat while getting comfortable. “I ate so much today, my stomach is about to burst out.”

Jay laughed, who was buckling his seatbelt and soon moved forward to buckle yours, noticing you still hadn't, probably taking your time to sit comfortably because of the full stomach.

“Yeah you devoured the marinated crabs and boiled seafood sweetheart, your little humming during eating gave it away.” Jay said while starting the car and softly laughing at your expression as you sighed loudly.

“Hey mister, blame my internet algorithm, the videos kept coming in my fyp. I had to try and let's not forget your expression while you were eating those boiled corn covered in species.” “Okay can you blame me, those corn were so delicious, probably one of the best I ate.”

“I knew that you would love them, anyways jongie can we go to the park before returning home. I’m really full and I need to walk or else I will keep tossing and turning while trying to sleep.” “Yeah sure baby, it's 10 p.m right now we can have a little walk.”

After some minutes of driving to the park nearest to your shared apartment, Jongseong parks the car a few meters away from the park near an area that looks scheduled for parking. You both get out and hold hands while walking in the park.

It was night time so there wasn't anyone and it was comforting silence just how you loved the park. “Remember when we were eighteen years old, we used to meet everyday in the park after dinner.” Jongseong said to you while you both walked together.

“Yeah, oh god how can I forget that jongie. Some days you used to get scolded by your parents because of me.” “Well you loved parks because of its comforting silence during night time and you loved to swing while we both talked so I couldn't miss out on that.”

“It was such an amazing time, I'm so glad I got to spend my last teenage years with you and now we are adults and living life together.” He confessed while caressing your hand. “Me too seong, I can't believe so many years have passed and we are blessed to stand together. I remember being so scared of dating anyone because I was scared of not being treated how I wanted.”

“Can't blame you my love, don't be offended. I love your family with all my heart but they are a traditional family with a little orthodox mindset and you being the older child, you had to bear everything and also manage everything.

All the times you had to approach your parents and your siblings to resolve their bickering and small fights because the generation gap created different points of view among them and you were my sweet little smart big brain girl who used to listen to both sides and resolve the issues.”

“That's all I could do, jongie, my siblings were 4 and 5 years younger than me so they just couldn't understand how to meddle in things without arguments and my parents couldn't understand their teenage thoughts.”

“And I'm so proud of you for that sweetheart. You have handled everything so well. I used to and I still do admire the way you used to handle things in your family at the young age of seventeen, prioritising your family and siblings but still standing up for yourself when it was required.”

“I love you seong so much.” “I love you more sweetheart, always have and always will.” “I’m so glad and thank whoever sent you in my life, jongie, the times I had no one to share anything with and carrying the burden of being an older child, you held me and let me cry without any judgement and always collected me while calming me down.

I can't describe how much I needed you in my life, all I can say is you are my comfort seongie. I find peace with you.” You said while hugging his biceps while you both were still walking.

“I’m glad to be your comfort and peace love, you're also someone who I found when I needed you the most. When everyone looked at me like I'm the most patient, understanding and calm person who can never be overwhelmed you were there for me you know.

Always asking me if I'm really alright and when I used to feel anxious or overwhelmed you used to listen to me with all your attention. I can't describe in words how many times I needed someone beside me just for solace and I found you.”

“We were definitely meant to be you know, me being the oldest daughter who barely used to open up and you being the only child who people thought was perfect in every aspect.” “Definitely my love, I love how we always understand each other and always know how to communicate.”

“Seong, do you remember when Mrs. Jung said how an oldest daughter and only child is going to be a disaster during our university.” You both loudly crackle at the memory. “Of course I do gosh, she warned you how you will end up playing the role of a mom to a spoiled brat because she knew me as a rich single child through others.”

“Oh god don't remind me, she was genuinely sweet and knew about me from my childhood, in a way she was my therapist. When she saw how generous you are and how you treat me she told me to never let go of you and we should invite her to our wedding.”

“Well she is invited isn't she,” he said while softly kissing your ring finger which held a beautiful ring that reminded you how in three months you will tie the knot with the guy who made your breathing easy by existing.

“I can't wait to meet everyone again jay, we will be married” you said while tearing up and looking up at him. “I can't wait either, after spending 7 years with you I will finally get the honor of being your husband. The boys were arguing in the group chat yesterday about who is going to be the best man.”

He said while wiping your tears and you both had another fit of laughter. “So have you decided yet?” You asked while taking his hand and sitting on a beach after thirty minutes of walking. “I'm so confused darling, I know they all love each other and won't be offended by my choice but I can't choose.”

“How about all of them, it's our wedding. You can change some traditions.” “I love your idea, we will think about it later but for now let's go back yeah. I'm getting sleepy.” “Sure, I'm tired after walking with a full stomach but it feels better.”

“Hope on then.” You looked at him while patting your thighs. “Are you sure babe.” “A hundred percent, we need to walk a few minutes to the car. Let me carry my queen.” “Okay Mr. Big boy I appreciate the offer but you're tired baby I can walk.”

“But baby I swear I can-” “I never said you can't be a big boy but give yourself rest.” “It's okay I can-” You pull his collar just slightly since he was already close to you while locking your lips together silencing him.

He sighed softly while closing the remaining gap and grabbing your hips from one hand and the other moving from waist to your neck slowly. While kissing each other for a few minutes you pull away to take a breath, “Let's go now.” You grab his hand and walk towards the gate, leaving the park with another set of memories to remember for your future.

꩜ .ᐟ NOTE : this is my 3rd written work so please forgive me if it's not that interesting to read I'm still learning and if you liked it please leave some feedbacks because I'm not sure about my written works so boost my confidence if you like it. And it was a completely different plot i planned to write, i started with a different idea but the plot wasn't fitting the title so I changed the whole plot and title. I will probably write the first idea later <33

꩜ .ᐟ TAGS : (white = not tagged, grey = tagged)

@taeminsboogers @mimisxs @nishimurarikisthings @avacelestepereira @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @nxzz-skz

˙ . ꒷ 🍰 masterlist taglist. 𖦹˙—

࣪

[frudoo]

I really like your writing! I'm so glad I found your page. I was wondering if I could do a drabble or little one shot ask about the 141 boys (poly or individual doesn't matter either way) I just had this idea because there's so many ideas about the boys not thinking they're good enough for their girl but what if it was the opposite way and I was wondering what you'd think their reactions would be.

The idea is that their girl is on the phone with her friend thinking they can't hear her talking (maybe they were asleep or out for a run or something) and her friend asks how things are going with them. Their girl full on gushes about the boys to her friend and her friend is like "oooo sounds like love to me! Have you told them yet?" And their girl is like "I... No of course not...They can't love me, I couldn't possibly expect them to."

This is long but thank you for listening to me ramble!

PLEASE I got so sappy with this one I just couldn't stop my fingers from typing. Also you're such a sweetheart <333

Warnings: Mentions of self-doubt, food, mentions of sex. Fem!Reader. MDNI.

Kyle Garrick:

     Kyle’s had a long day, and the man just wants a proper cup of tea. He starts down the hallway, but when he hears his name coming from your room, he stops dead in his tracks. He knows it’s wrong, but he can’t help but crack your door open to eavesdrop a bit. 

     “I’m telling you, he’s perfect! When I have a bad day, he’ll take me out for coffee, or we’ll go for a walk or just look around the pet store. Sometimes he’ll even do my laundry! It’s- it’s not a crush anymore. I’m in love with him,” you ramble on to your friend, who’s giggling with glee over the speaker of your phone.

     “Well, have you told him?” She questions excitedly, and you go quiet for a moment.

     “Of course I haven’t. Why would I? It’s not… it’s not like he feels the same. I’d just be hurting myself,” you reply sadly.

     Kyle frowns deeply, and he’s almost positive he can physically feel his heart breaking. God, he’d rather fall out of another helo than ever hear you sound so distraught again. He wants nothing more than to barge into your room and pull you into his arms, kiss away all your doubts and prove to you just how much he loves you. Instead, the sound of your voice brings him back to reality. 

     “I think I’m gonna grab a snack. It was good talking to you,” you hang up the phone and open your door, surprised to see your roommate standing right there. “Kyle! Shit, did- did you-? I’m so-”

     “Y’mean it?” Kyle asks softly, not wanting you to feel embarrassed.

     Even so, you sheepishly nod your head, unable to meet his eyes. His warm hands cup your face and lift your head up to look at him, and he smiles so warmly that you can’t help but do the same.

     “Silly girl. I love you, too.”

     John Price:

     The base was dead today, barely any paperwork to do or new recruits to train. For the first time in months, John was able to get off on time, and he decided to surprise you with a bouquet of flowers and your favorite Indian food. When he arrives at your flat, he uses his spare key to unlock the door and steps inside, kicking off his boots—ever since that one time you playfully lectured him on keeping your home clean, he’s engraved the rule into his brain.

     John sets your gifts on the island in your kitchen, glancing around for any signs of where you could be. You’re definitely home, he can tell that much by your keys dangling off the holder and your own shoes by the door. He carefully steps through the hallway and hears your unmistakable voice in the bathroom, along with the quiet sound of running water. He goes to turn the handle but decides against it when he hears his name slip from your lips.

     “God, I love John so much, you don’t understand. He’s everything I could ever want. Every time I see him, I just- I wanna kiss him stupid, y’know? I mean, shit, he’s already seen every part of me since he’s my best friend and all.”

     “So… when are you gonna tell him? It sounds like he’s interested, babe,” your friend’s voice rings through your phone. “Best friends don’t normally just see each other naked.”

     “Oh, stop it. There’s no way he could feel the same. I’m just… I couldn’t ask that of him. It wouldn’t be fair.”

     John’s heard enough. He trudges back into the kitchen and fixes your plate of takeout, as well as a glass of wine and some chocolates. He arranges the food on a tray and brings it back to the bathroom, not even bothering to knock before walking inside. You scream, and normally he would laugh, but he’s so hurt that you think you’re unworthy of his love, and he’s dead set on proving otherwise. 

     “Do you always scare the shit out of people you’re trying to surprise?” You laugh, hand resting on your chest as if it’ll calm your beating heart.

     “Only the one I’m in love with, sweet girl.”

     Simon Riley:

     “M’gonna step out for a smoke, love,” Simon informs you, and you nod politely.

     The coffee shop is a little too crowded for Simon’s liking, and he needs a break. Your company is the sweetest he could ask for, and he feels bad leaving you for even a second, but the demons in his head were begging for an escape. Still, he stands by the window where your table is located just so he can keep an eye on you. Call it a weakness, but when he sees you messaging your friend, he can’t tear his eyes away from the conversation. Thank the heavens for the little slip-up the café made, having the one-way windows installed inside out.

yeah he’s like,,, stupidly perfect

it’s like he’s trying to make me lose it???

like sir i’m already in love with you

what more do you want

lmaooo why haven’t u told him yet????

he’s obviously in love with ur dumb ass too

oh fuck off

you know we’re just friends

don’t give me hope

     Simon frowns deeply, tossing the butt of his cigarette on the ground and crushing it with his boot. He’s spent his whole life in shackles, deeming himself unlovable, unworthy of anything good or sweet or kind. But when he met you, those thoughts dissolved like melting snow—he even took the mask off for you. He didn’t even know it was possible to love somebody so much, so to have the one person he adores more than anything in the world doubt herself? He won’t have it. 

     He reenters the coffee shop in a hurry, long legs striding over to you as quickly as possible. Before you can even react, he leans down to press his lips against yours, hands firmly on your face to keep you still. When he pulls back, he’s near tears looking at your shocked expression.

     “I don’t love y’like a friend. I love y’like a man loves his wife, like you’re the air I breathe. I’ve always been yours, y’hear me? Always.”

     Johnny MacTavish:

     Johnny’s expecting to feel your warm body beside his when he wakes, but instead he’s met with the soft thud of his arm onto the unoccupied sheets where you should be. He frowns and rubs the sleep from his eyes, checking his phone—it’s only 4:00 in the morning, and the sun isn’t even out yet. You’ve obviously not been in bed for a while, and it worries him. Did you leave in the middle of the night, all by yourself? Shit, what if something bad happened to you?

     Johnny hops out of bed and quickly pulls on his jeans from last night, starting a frantic search through his house. You’re not in the bathroom, or in any of the spare rooms, not even the sunroom where you love to cozy up and read a book. The last place he thinks to check is the kitchen, and lo and behold, there you are, brewing some coffee and talking on the phone to someone. Your best friend, he realizes, when you put the call on speaker to pour yourself a cup. 

     “It’s just… last night, he told me he loved me, and it- I don’t know. It ruined me. I couldn’t even finish, I had to fake it.”

     Johnny freezes and leans against the door frame. His stomach feels sick suddenly—did he really fuck up that bad last night? God, he knew he should have just kept his mouth shut, but he figured there was no better time to confess his feelings for you while he was… well, inside of you. He really thought you felt the same. Your little sniffle drags him out of his thoughts, and his eyes land on your now crying figure once again.

     “N-no, you don’t understand. I know he just said it because of the sex. I’m not… he couldn’t love me. Not the way I love him. We’re just friends who happen to sleep together sometimes. It’s my own fault for catching feelings when he- he deserves someone so much better,” the break in your voice destroys Johnny and all he can do is listen as your best friend calms you down.

     He doesn’t make a move until you’ve hung up. Only after you’ve set the phone down does he come barreling in, wrapping his strong arms around you, ignoring your shriek of surprise. Johnny pulls back to cup your face in his hands, thumbs wiping away the fresh tears that managed to slip past your waterline.

“Ye’re the only one ah want. D’ye understand? Ye’re the only one fer me. Ah meant wha’ ah said, hen, ah love ye. There’s no’ a force on this earth tha’ could make me want ye less. Ye’re mine, alreit? As much as ah’m all yers.”

[childrenofcain-if]

That one scenario where C and MC have a kid has my heart completely 😭 Can we get a follow up for that? How are things going on in the joint household? I'm also very curious to see what C would name their kid 🤭

the hershey’s kisses glinted in the late afternoon sun, crinkled foil catching the golden light that streamed in through the window. aster sat cross-legged on the sofa, a small island of contentment in the messy sprawl of school bags and discarded socks she’d left in her wake.

she was humming under her breath as she unwrapped another piece of chocolate, oblivious to the way her shoes lay in two opposite corners of the room and how her lunchbox sat precariously balanced on the edge of the coffee table.

you leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping coffee and watching her with the detached amusement of a parent who knows they’ll have to clean up the mess but hasn’t yet summoned the energy to do so.

C was in the armchair, one foot propped on the edge of the ottoman, clicking through their macbook with half an eye on aster. it was domesticity in its sweetest form, the kind you don’t think about when you’re young and idealistic, imagining love and family like perfect polaroids on a wall.

“did you give her those?” C asked suddenly, their voice louder than the hum of the dishwasher in the kitchen.

you blinked and set your coffee down, moving closer to inspect the crumpled foil wrappers littered around aster.

���nope,” you said after a beat. “not exactly either of our flavor. that’s… what is that, cherry? we don’t have those in the house.”

C arched a brow, and without missing a beat, turned their full attention to your daughter.

“aster,” they said, voice soft but with a worried edge, “where did you get the chocolates?”

aster’s head snapped up, her chalcedony green eyes lighting up with excitement.

“felix gave them to me!” she said, her grin wide enough to show the little gap where her front tooth had fallen out last week.

C froze, their hand tightening slightly on the edge of their macbook. you, on the other hand, were far more amused.

“felix, huh?” you said, crouching slightly to meet aster’s eye level. “and who’s felix again?”

her grin grew impossibly wider as she happily declared: “my boyfriend!”

you chuckled, leaning against the arm of the sofa. “oh, really? you have a boyfriend now, kleine ster? when did this happen?”

“this morning actually!” aster exclaimed, bouncing a little on the cushions. “he gave me the chocolates at recess and said he liked me, and i said i liked him too, and now we’re boyfriend and girlfriend!”

C’s eye twitched, a muscle jumping just beneath the surface. they sat up straighter, their attention now fully honed on your seven-year-old’s revelation.

“did he now?” they said, their voice tight. “and what else did this... felix boy say?”

aster frowned, confused by the sudden shift in tone. “uh… he said i could have the last red crayon in art class.”

“generous of him,” they muttered darkly, looking distinctly unimpressed.

“C,” you said warningly, but they ignored you, leaning forward with the intense focus of someone about to conduct an interrogation.

“and does this felix… hold your hand?” they asked, their tone too casual to be actually genuine.

“sometimes,” aster admitted, her brows knitting together.

C’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “does he share his lunch with you?”

“yeah, today he gave me his oreos!”

C’s jaw twitched. you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“C,” you said again, a little louder this time. “let it go, darling. they’re just kids.”

but they were too far gone now, leaning forward as though proximity might grant them any sort of control over the situation.

“aster,” they said with all the solemnity of someone at a funeral, “you can’t have a boyfriend. you’re too young. your brain isn’t fully developed. you’ll... you’ll explode! you’ll leave your parents all alone then and it’ll make us very sad.”

aster blinked at them, unwrapping another hershey’s kiss with deliberate slowness.

“i will explode?” she asked, clearly confused by this turn of events.

you rolled your eyes. “no, you wo—”

“yes, you will,” C insisted, cutting you off. “and anyway, you’re not allowed to date anyone until you’re like 30 and paying taxes. it’s a rule.”

“that’s not a rule,” aster said with the stubborn certainty of someone who knew she was right. she really was her parents’ daughter. “and felix is a good boy.”

“‘good,’” C muttered under their breath, glaring at the imaginary felix as though he was lurking in the shadows, waiting to hand their precious little star another chocolate. “i’m going to fight this seven-year-old.”

“C!” you snapped, stepping between them and placing a hand on C’s shoulder. “calm down, my love. it’s harmless.”

C leaned back reluctantly, their gaze flicking between you and aster, who was now watching them like they’d sprouted a second head.

“fine,” they grumbled, crossing their arms over their chest.

***

after dinner, aster sat cross-legged in the middle of the living room, her brow furrowed in concentration as she examined a tiny instruction manual for building LEGOs with the intensity of someone decoding the human genome. her fingers, small but deft, picked up pieces and slotted them into place, her movements sure and deliberate.

C sat beside her, their long legs folded awkwardly beneath them, one hand bracing their bad knee. their fingers worked slower than hers, more hesitantly. the gap between them—her bright enthusiasm, their cautious quiet—was almost laughable. but C didn’t laugh.

they watched her instead.

aster had inherited their stubbornness, the precision of their thoughts, the way they spoke with certainty even when they were wrong, the hard-headed refusal to back down in the face of a challenge. but she’d also inherited your warmth, your easy charisma, the way people seemed to orbit around you like you were some kind of gravitational force.

she was both of you, but neither of you. something wholly her own. and she shone so brilliantly.

“non,” aster said suddenly, shaking her head. she spoke in a tone that was equal parts exasperated and amused, the way one might speak to a child who couldn’t quite grasp a simple concept. “that piece goes here. look.” she leaned over, plucking a flat blue brick from the pile and snapping it into place on the half-constructed spaceship.

“ah,” C said, their lips quirking into a faint smile. “of course, petite étoile. how foolish of me.”

she beamed proudly, her confidence growing with each small victory.

“it’s okay. you’re still learning,” she said magnanimously, patting their arm. honestly, it amused C greatly to see her reflect you back when you both argued everyday like your life depended on it.

C snorted, shaking their head. “merci, mademoiselle.”

“pas de problème,” she replied breezily, her accent and pronunciation impeccably like a parisian native.

C felt a pang of pride so sharp it was almost painful. french had been one of their gifts to her, a piece of their heritage they had handed down like an heirloom. and she had taken to it effortlessly, as if it had always been hers.

she slipped between languages with a grace that left C in awe, her young mind absorbing everything like a sponge.

“wat is dit?” she asked suddenly, holding up a strange piece they hadn’t encountered yet.

“hmm,” you said from where you were sprawled on the couch, your legs stretched out and a book resting on your chest. you barely looked up as you answered her in dutch, explaining what the piece was and where it might fit.

aster nodded thoughtfully, her small fingers turning the piece over as she considered its possibilities. C watched her, their heart swelling with a mixture of love and disbelief.

how could someone so small hold so much brilliance? how could she be so much more than they had ever dared to imagine for themself?

“do you think felix likes LEGOs?” aster asked suddenly, breaking their reverie. she was staring at them now, her eyes—C’s eyes, pale green and perceptive—narrowed in thought.

C felt their jaw tighten at the mention of the boy, the ghost of their earlier irritation flickering to life.

“i have no idea,” they said evenly, focusing on the spaceship.

aster tilted her head, clearly unconvinced by their tone.

“he’s nice,” she said firmly, as though this simple fact should erase all of C’s doubts.

“i’m sure he is,” C said, their tone carefully neutral.

you glanced up from your book, smirking slightly as you watched the exchange. let it go, your eyes seemed to say.

but it wasn’t that simple.

it wasn’t about this felix boy, not really. it was about aster, about the inexorable passage of time, about the impossibility of holding on to something as fragile and fleeting as childhood. she was growing up, and there was nothing C could do to stop it.

C reached for another LEGO brick, their fingers brushing against aster’s. she looked up at them, her eyes bright with curiosity.

“tu vas bien?” she asked, her voice soft and earnest.

the question caught them off guard. for a moment, they didn’t know how to respond. how could they explain the tangled mess of emotions that had been simmering inside them all day? how could they tell her that the thought of her growing up terrified them in a way they couldn’t quite articulate?

“i’m fine, petite étoile,” they said eventually, forcing a smile. “just tired.”

she seemed to accept this, turning her attention back to the spaceship. but C couldn’t help noticing the small furrow in her brow, the way her hands moved more slowly now, as if she was trying to puzzle something out.

they watched her in silence, their heart aching with a strange, bittersweet kind of love.

***

later, when the spaceship was complete and aster had been tucked into bed, C found themself sitting on the edge of your shared bed, their head in their hands.

“okay,” you said, sitting beside them. “do you want to talk about what exactly is bothering you, my love?”

they sighed, looking up at you now.

“it’s just… strange,” they said, their voice low and tired. “she’s growing up so fast. too fast. i feel like i blinked, and suddenly she’s not my little girl anymore.”

you stayed quiet, letting them find the words.

“i still remember holding her in my arms for the first time,” they continued, their voice thick with emotion. “i remember her first steps, her first word, the first time she looked at me and called out for me. and now… now she’s talking about boyfriends and whatnot.”

they let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through their hair. “i didn’t have this. a proper childhood. a father who cared. i don’t know what i’m doing half the time. i just… i look at her, and i love her so much it terrifies me. so much so that i still don’t understand how my father could—”

“hey,” you interrupted gently, placing a hand on their arm. “you’re nothing like him. you’re such a wonderful parent, C. she loves you so much. you can see it every time she looks at you. and yeah, it’s hard watching her grow up. but that’s the deal. you love them, and you let them go, little by little, so they can become who they’re meant to be.”

C nodded slowly, their eyes softening as they looked at you. “i know you’re right.”

you leaned in, pressing a kiss to their temple. “of course i’m right, i always am.”

they rolled their eyes, but a small, tired smile tugged at the corners of their mouth.

“do you think…” they hesitated, the tips of their ears turning adorably red. “do you think we should have another one?”

“another what?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

they scowled, burying their face in your neck.

“you know what i mean,” they mumbled, their voice muffled. “don’t make me say it out loud.”

you laughed, stroking their hair. “we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

but you already knew the answer.

[reiding-writing]

Hey can i ask for cold!Reader where someone calls her heartless and stuff like that, cuz u know, she has that reputation, and then Spencer finds her crying and comforts her?? cuz she has feelings but it is hard to show them

BREAKING THE ICE [ONESHOT]

/ˈbɹeɪkɪŋ ðiː ɑ́js/

Sometimes people just cry, there doesn’t really have to be a reason. But when you have a reputation for being cold and uncaring, being emotionally vulnerable with other people isn’t very easy. Spencer doesn’t care though, he’ll get through to you either way.

spencer x cold!reader | hurt/comfort | 2.3k I series masterlist!!

WARNINGS: fem!reader, depictions of a panic attack, reader is a lil mean to spencer but it kinda comes with the territory

a/n: cold!reader is my roman empire i love writing emotionally complex characters man (i also feel the need to let everyone know that this fic was originally called ‘micheal in the bathroom’)

main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ part two!!

You hated crying.

You hated the way it made you look, with tears staining your cheeks and a blotchy complexion from your fluctuating temperature, the way your shoulders trembled like a leaf in the wind.

You hated the way it made you feel, your throat tight and constricting your airflow, your head pounding with an impending headache from your irregular breathing and the constant dread at the idea of somebody finding you in the state you were in.

The worst part was you didn’t even have a valid reason to be crying. You hadn’t gone through a life-altering trauma, you hadn’t lost anyone, hell you hadn’t even had a mild inconvenience today; But here you were, crying in the unisex toilets during your lunch break, because apparently the gods had decided your life wasn’t miserable enough already.

Your hands gripped the edge of the sink like it was your only anchor to the physical world, your hands tensing so hard that your knuckles were turning white and the tips of your fingers were beginning to ache.

Your laboured breathing was echoing through the stalls, reminding you of just how pathetic you sounded and only amplifying that sinking feeling in your chest that decided to invade your mind for no apparent reason and rip your brain to pieces until the only thing you could think of was how horrible you felt.

You weren’t just crying anymore. It was like your body was trying to tear itself up from the inside out. And there was no reason for any of it.

Then there was a soft knock on the door, almost quiet enough that you couldn’t hear it over the sounds of your own anguish.

It was to be expected at some point you suppose, you’d locked the outside door instead of just locking yourself in one of the stalls, providing you with complete privacy for your breakdown but also inconveniencing the rest of the office by taking up twelve stalls instead of just one.

Still, you weren’t ready to unlock the door yet. There was no way in hell you were going to let one of your coworkers walk in and see you bent over one of the sinks like the pathetic failure you felt.

You had a reputation to uphold. They could find another bathroom to piss in.

You weren’t ‘heartless’ by any means, but you were strong, and that is what your coworkers needed to see, not this.

You didn’t mind being called an ‘ice queen’ by Morgan every morning if it meant that they didn’t see you like this. You didn’t mind keeping a barrier up between you and the rest of your team if it meant that you didn’t break down in front of them. But god sometimes you wished they’d see you as more than a wall of stone with no emotional capacity so that you could actually have someone to lean on in moments like this one.

But you suppose that half of it is your fault. They wouldn’t see you as some emotionally removed robot if you weren’t presenting yourself like that in the first place.

There’s another knock at the door, joined by a voice this time, Spencer’s voice, and it was calling your last name.

He was literally the last person you wanted to see.

Of all the people on the team, Spencer had been the one to slowly chip away at the obsidian shield you protected yourself with, and with no force whatsoever. He’d settled for taking place besides you and letting you acclimate to him in your own time. He never pried or pushed, he respected your boundaries and your wish to not get emotionally attached, and he never judged you for how you presented yourself to the world.

He was the best type of person that you could surround yourself with, and that made him the worst type of person for you to see right now.

You’re trying to compose yourself, not make your emotional rampage worse at the hands of someone so caring that your walls may as well be made of glass and have them shattered the second his breath hits their surface.

The knocking doesn’t stop whilst you mentally curse Spencer’s kindness in your head, nor does his voice, but he’s transitioned from calling your last name to calling your first. It’s not helping.

“I’m fine Reid,” You strain your voice so it doesn’t crack under the weight of your emotions, closing your eyes so you don’t have to face your reflection in the mirror. “Just give me a few minutes.”

“Are you sure?” You can hear the concern lacing his voice even through the way it’s muffled by the two inches of wood between you. “The average time taken by women when going to the bathroom is 4 minutes and 39 seconds, you’ve been in there for over 12 now,”

Curse Spencer Reid and his inherent ability to make everything logical.

“I’m fine.” Even in a state of absolute distress you still manage to push absolutely everyone away.

“I really don’t want to pry but you don’t sound fine,”

“Reid, leave it.” You know he’s not going to. He might stop trying to verbally get you to admit your feelings, but you know for a fact that when you open that door he is going to be waiting for you on the other side.

You’d given Spencer a bit too much leeway in not enduring the wrath of your psychological defences, and now he’s slowly becoming impervious to your dismissals.

He’s not as intimidated by you as he was four years ago, and it is not doing wonders for your attempts at keeping people at an arms-length.

You’re going to have to face him eventually.

You take in a deep breath as you resign yourself to your fate, inhaling until you can feel the pressure of your lungs against your diaphragm and letting it out slowly through your mouth, forcing your heart rate to slow to an acceptable level as you swipe your index fingers under your eyes to rid your cheeks of the mascara stains painting your face.

You glare at yourself in the mirror as you try to make yourself look presentable again, wetting your hands and pressing them to your cheeks to cool down your face and fixing the wrinkles in your shirt from having been bent over in an awkward position for so long.

You’d say it worked to an extent, and the natural narrowing of your eyes in your resting expression helped to hide the pink irritation from you rubbing them constantly over the last ten minutes, but you worked with profilers, so you’re sure they’d be able to see right through you.

Alas, you’d made your bed by crying in the office bathroom in the first place, now you had to lie in it.

The clicking of the lock as you open the door stirs Spencer’s attention, and he stops leaning against the wall with a furrowed expression to stand straight in front of it like a pet waiting for their owner to come home.

You’re fairly confident in the stability of your emotional state as you open the door to enter back into the office, and that confidence is immediately ripped away the second you meet Spencer’s eyes.

The look on his face is nothing less than absolute concern for you, and it causes the wafer of your remaining emotional shield to disintegrate as soon as those hazel eyes lock onto yours.

You swallow back a lump that rises in your throat at his gaze, averting your eyes from him as you feel them prick with tears again and turning your body back in the direction of the bathroom you’d emerged from, fully intent on locking yourself back in there for as long as it takes for you to get yourself under control.

You cannot believe you just allowed Spencer to see you like that.

“Hey-” Spencer catches the door with his foot as you try to close it on him, most definitely causing him pain in the process from how quickly you tried to slam it behind you. But his expression didn’t show that, it continued to show that soft, sweet kindness that was entirely concerned for your well being. “You’re not fine…”

“No shit Sherlock-” You take in a sharp breath through your nose as you speak, your tone harsh and icy as you turn your head over your shoulder towards him. He knew it was an emotional defence mechanism, but it still stung just a little.

Spencer sighs softly as he follows into the bathroom after you, locking the door after him like you had done earlier to provide you with at least a bit of the privacy you desired. He wasn’t exactly sure to to approach the conversation about what you were feeling with you, afraid that if he misstepped he’d only push you further into your emotional pit of solitude.

“Did you know that a person’s emotional state is best presented in what they wear?” Resorting to statistics was always the first choice. “Studies have shown that the type and material that a person’s clothes are, as well as they way they’re worn, correlate with the type of emotions they are feeling,”

You’re wearing a shirt and slacks, which most would agree was fairly typical office attire, he was wearing almost exactly the same. But you’d undone an extra button on your collar today, presumably to try and help alleviate the restricting feeling against your throat, and your slacks were wide-legged instead of straight-legged like usual which was likely again to try and help with the constriction you were experiencing.

If he had to wager a guess, he’d say you woke up on the brink of an emotional breakdown today, which meant that it wasn’t caused by something that had happened during the day. That usually left the only explanation as something much deeper at play than just some off-hand experience.

“And let my guess, my clothes are displaying complete patheticness?” You gesture your hands exaggeratedly as you turn around to face him once more, the tears rolling down your cheeks illuminated underneath the overhead lighting. “Because that’s how I feel right now,”

“Being upset doesn’t make you pathetic at all-” Spencer sounds genuinely offended at the idea of you finding yourself pathetic for feeling regular human emotions. There was nothing wrong with crying or being emotionally overwhelmed. “It’s a beneficial part of human nature,”

“It doesn’t feel very ‘beneficial’ to me,” You lean your lower back against the line of sinks as you continue to blow of his attempts at opening an emotionally vulnerable conversation with you, but you also weren’t completely shutting him down either.

Spencer takes a step closer, his eyes still filled with genuine concern. "I know it might not feel like it now, but allowing yourself to feel and express these emotions is healthy. It's okay to not be okay sometimes."

You let out a shaky sigh, feeling a bit of the tension ease out of your shoulders at his words. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was time to stop pretending everything was fine when it wasn't. "I just... hate feeling like this," you admit quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Spencer nods in understanding, his expression softening even more. "I get it, I really do. But you don't have to hide what you’re feeling because you’re trying to protect yourself. I'm here for you, whatever you need."

His words hit you harder than you expected, and for a moment you feel like your mind is just going to give in and forget everything that had become a staple of your character so that you could feel that emotional connection that you knew was going to be good for your mental health.

But if wasn’t exactly that easy.

You offer him a small, tentative smile, grateful for his unwavering support even though you weren’t going to actually take it. Not entirely anyway. "I appreciate that,"

He returns your smile with one of his own, small and awkward and the perfect encapsulation of Spencer’s character. “Of course,”

He knew you weren’t just going to magically change your personality and start emotionally leaning on him, but he was glad that you were acknowledging his efforts in at least trying to be a pillar of support for you.

You’d stopped crying now, so that was a good sign in itself that the conversation had benefited you in some way or other, and for now, that was enough.

You could think about the complications later.

part two!!

[mrsjellymunson]

Start Something

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Eddie helps you generate a new D&D character, but that’s not the only thing that gets started that day

WC: ~2.5k

C/W: 18+, MDNI! NSFW? Physical flirting and teasing, heavy petting, sort of in public (nobody notices). Smut-adjacent? Thigh riding. Swearing. Nothing overly explicit, but it does get heated. Eddie and reader are both over 18. Trope: oh no, there aren’t enough seats, where will you sit? No y/n, one pet name. No physical descriptions of reader other than she wears a skirt (of unspecified appearance).

A/N: Should I be working on parts for my outstanding series? Yes. Would this not leave me alone until I wrote it down? Also yes. I had fun creating a new character in a different RPG and I have no idea whether this is how D&D works, so if it’s not, let’s just pretend, okay? 😆 Text dividers by @strangergraphics Dice dividers by me 🫣☺️

I have a general taglist now, let me know if you’d like to be on it 🖤

My masterlist

Eddie can’t believe his luck. You’re pretty (gorgeous, actually), insanely intelligent and have, for some as yet indecipherable reason, decided that you want to play D&D. With a load of nerdy teens. And him.

You’ve joined in with a couple of short campaigns at school, seeming to enjoy them immensely and fitting in well with the group, bantering with the boys and bonding with Erica over your shared ‘take no shit’ attitudes. At first Eddie wasn't sure how that dynamic would work, but you slipped easily into letting the younger girl show you the ropes, and Erica is clearly enjoying having more female energy around.

Eddie knows that creating a new character is one of your favourite things to do. He’d never admit it, but it’s one of his favourite things to watch, too. He adores the sparkle in your eyes, your creative brain and how excited and animated you get when you come up with new ideas. Sometimes they’re sketchy, or even impossible, which he finds hugely endearing. He also loves how you’ll always check in with him, asking his advice and respecting his opinion.

This weekend he’s running a oneshot at his trailer for the younger members and you. New characters, novel plot, the works. The plan is to create new characters in the morning, and play the game in the afternoon.

This’ll be the first time you’ve been to his home, or seen him anywhere outside of school, and Eddie’s nervous as all fuck.

He couched it as ‘a good opportunity to develop a greater understanding of the game’, but he definitely has an ulterior motive for inviting you here.

So far, he’s taken every opportunity he can to make you laugh, sit near you, even touch you. Creating scenarios where a subtle hug, or even a playful tickle is somehow appropriate. He covers it quickly by immediately doing it to someone else, hoping you won’t spot the bulge in his pants and the fact that he can’t stop looking at you.

He’s not sure for how long he can keep it up. He wants so much more, and it won’t be long before he either loses it, takes it too far, or, worst case scenario, you notice he’s being a total creep and ditch the group because of it.

He’s been trying to muster the balls to ask you out for weeks, practicing lines and imagining scenarios, but he’s found it more difficult to plan than even the most complex of his campaigns.

And although it’s unlikely given the crowd of nerds that’ll be around, he couldn’t miss an opportunity to be in your company. He thought that maybe, just maybe, he’d manage to get you somewhat alone and do it today.

He’s tidied up the trailer as subtly as he can, doing all the dishes and straightening Wayne’s caps, hoping the others won’t notice and ask him awkward questions. But he’s jittery and anxious, terrified that you’ll take one look at where and how he lives and decide you want nothing more to do with him…

Eddie has no idea that you’re just as nervous as he is.

You’ve enjoyed the Hellfire campaigns so far, but haven’t really managed to get all that close to the Dungeon Master, much to your chagrin. Sure, the game is enormous fun and you love all the members and how welcoming they’ve been. But the DM? Holy hell, he’s hot as sin, and being able to spend time around the larger-than-life metal-lover only adds to your enjoyment of the sessions. But you can’t imagine it’ll ever go any further than that. You doubt that a geeky D&D novice who he’s hardly spoken to is his idea of the perfect girlfriend…

But god, the physical touches? Christ. It’s as much as you can do to hold it together. You’ve shared a few celebratory hugs, and he’s even tickled you a couple of times, all of which you’ve enjoyed far more than you’d let on, and filed away in your memory for retrieval when you’re alone at night in your bed. But you know that he’s like this with everyone, and are under no illusions that you’re special. So you relish each and every contact, wishing there could be more.

What if he looks at you for too long with those gorgeous, huge, chocolate-brown eyes? And what if you forget how to speak? It’s already happened an embarrassing amount of times, but you’ve managed to pass it off as being stumped because you’re a beginner. You don’t know for how much longer that excuse is gonna fly.

And, if all that wasn’t already enough to send your anxiety levels skyrocketing, you’re also acutely aware that you haven't spent time with any of the group outside of school as yet. You’re worried that you’re going to ruin their social dynamic, or mess up the game. Or embarrass yourself with no easy way to exit, having to wallow in your shame until the mums come back later to pick you all up. Your spiralling makes you realise that although it was really kind of Mrs Wheeler to offer you a lift, you’re now really wishing you’d brought your own car…

All kinds of anxious thoughts are running through your mind, from what if your ideas are stupid, to what if everyone (okay, specifically Eddie) dislikes the cookies you’ve baked??

Neither of you should’ve worried.

As you enter his trailer, Eddie seems a little flustered, running a ringed hand through his gorgeous chestnut waves and unnecessarily straightening a pile of magazines on the coffee table. He smooths down his (new) black tee (that he totally didn’t buy especially for this occasion), and you pay it no mind, assuming he’s just always like this with visitors, and is excited for the campaign.

You barely glance around Eddie’s home, smiling softly at the trinkets you spot, and offering to help plate up the snacks in the kitchen area. You don’t look uncomfortable, and you certainly don’t pass judgment. Eddie eyes you as indirectly as he can, noticing the unusual skirt you’ve got on (that you totally totally didn’t choose specifically for today). He likes it.

Just like at school, you slot easily into the melee of pencils, paper, dice and snacks. Everyone loves your home baked cookies, including Eddie, and Erica even badgers you for the recipe.

Eddie thinks you couldn’t be any more perfect.

You think this isn’t so bad after all, and relax a little.

The morning’s character building is going well, the fact that it’s a oneshot not diminishing anyone’s efforts or attention to detail.

You still haven’t quite got the hang of the dice and numbers parts, always asking for Eddie’s help with that. His help, not any of the others, he muses with a certain amount of pride and delight. (Selfishly, part of him secretly hopes you never get the hang of it, and will always need to seek his input.)

With you now added to the group, there aren’t enough seats at Eddie’s modest dining table. Nobody notices. Initially Dustin and Will are deep in a discussion on Eddie’s battered sofa, and Mike and Lucas are rifling through the fridge, both at that ‘hollow legs’ stage of teen development and constantly ravenous.

Your character’s almost done, and you just want to clarify a few things, so you ask across the table,

“Eddie? Can I bring this over for you to check please?”

He waves you over, putting on a fake English accent and saying,

“Of course you may, my dear. You know I’m always happy to assist my flock.”

You chuckle lightly at his endearing foolishness as you get up from your place next to Erica, taking your character sheet over to Eddie for his perusal. Behind you, the younger players all convene at the table to share their progress, and all the seats become filled.

With no free spots near him, and assuming you won’t be here for long, Eddie pats his leg absentmindedly and says, “Sit here, lemme see.”

You end up on his lap, facing sideways at ninety degrees.

You initially turn towards him and bring your sheet between you, but there’s not enough room for him to properly examine it, so you turn the other way and lay it on the table in front of him, turning so your back is to him, your legs straddling one of his knees. He leans forward and begins to check it over, confirming some details and asking for more particulars on others.

Eddie’s been admiring your enthusiasm and level of engagement all morning, and he’s impressed by the depth of information you’ve already managed to accumulate.

You’re absorbed with your new character, getting excited and gesticulating wildly. Ideas bounce easily between you and Eddie, his face smiling softly and his dimples popping as he gets to see you like this.

It doesn’t escape him, however, that you’re also bouncing on… him. He flushes a little, and hopes you don’t perceive it.

As you gesture at a particularly thorny issue on your paper, it dawns on Eddie exactly what parts of you are in contact with him, albeit through multiple layers of fabric. The softness of your thighs and the heat from your core against his leg fully absorb him for a moment, and he has to ask you to repeat yourself. You don’t seem to mind, assuming it was the general clamour in the room that meant he couldn’t hear you. That same clamour covers the sound of him awkwardly clearing his throat and gulping loudly.

It occurs to him that he’s never experienced anything… like this. Occasional hookups in the woods or after gigs at The Hideout are great and everything, but he’s never before felt like he has a literal, real-life angel sitting on his lap.

And you? You are slowly realising how nice Eddie’s lap feels beneath you. It’s warm and solid, and the denim of his dark jeans feels pleasantly rough on the skin of your legs where your skirt’s ridden up. There’s a pressure against your most intimate areas that’s generating a warm feeling of pleasure in your core. You’re trying to concentrate, but it’s not easy.

It takes a few more moments for you to catch up to where Eddie is, and you register that you’re essentially riding Eddie’s thigh each time you move.

Your lips roll inwards and you swallow deeply, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to compose yourself. It doesn’t help, and only serves to focus your attention even more fully on the delicious sensations beneath your legs. This is the closest you’ve ever been to your Dungeon Master, and for the longest time. And you can’t help how flustered it’s making you.

Embarrassed, you cough and go to stand, but quickly see that there’s nowhere for you to go. Eddie scans the room and notices your predicament, and, in a broken voice that’s almost unbearably soft, tells you, “It’s okay, Princess. You can stay here.”

Fuck. A pet name? You enjoyed that, perhaps a little too much. If you were being rational you could put it down to Eddie referencing your new character, who happens to be an aristocratic mage. But right now? Right now, you’re not feeling particularly rational.

You slowly sit back down, but as you do so Eddie shifts his position, causing you to spread your knees a bit wider than they were and land further up his leg, giving you even more contact with his thigh. You hope he didn’t hear the broken little hum that escaped you.

Eddie leans forward and in a voice that’s far too quiet, and far too close to your ear, he asks, “Are you… okay?”

You can barely breathe, and all you can manage in response is a tiny, squeaked, “Mhm.”

Behind you, Eddie takes a stuttering breath in, letting it out slowly before he resumes discussions with everyone else at the table.

You each become more unfettered as the morning progresses. Further not-so-accidental encounters only serve to increase the tension between you both.

At one point, you lean forwards over the table to get one of the manuals, lifting your butt from his leg. For a moment you hope there won’t be a visible wet patch on your skirt, or on his jeans. But then you wonder whether it would actually be so terrible if there was, and whether it would actually be so terrible if Eddie saw…

Eddie saw. He hums slightly, but it sounds more like a whimper, and he attempts to cover it by clearing his throat for the umpteenth time today.

He wonders whether you’re doing this on purpose, whether you have any idea what you’re doing to him.

As you settle back onto his thigh, one of Eddie’s hands travels to your hip, holding it lightly, just resting it there. A fire travels up that entire side of your body.

You wonder whether he’s doing this on purpose, whether he has any idea what he’s doing to you.

He leans forward to reach for something on the table, and this time brushes his chest against your back for far longer than is necessary. You feel his breathing against your neck speeding up, hot gasps coming from between his lips instead of controlled outbreaths through his nose.

You reach for a die, and as you sit back you half-intentionally push your core down onto Eddie’s leg just a little bit harder. God, he feels so good. And so what if you’ve moved backwards slightly, so your thigh is even further between his legs, and your butt nudges his crotch?

You definitely feel something hard pressing against your ass. The grip on your hip tightens, and Eddie dips his head forward to hide his face and stifle a moan. Christ.

You think you hear him mumble a quiet and stilted, “Sh-it.”

Eddie can barely contain himself, this morning not going at all how he could’ve even dreamed. He had no idea whether you even liked him, and was planning to sound you out and maybe manage to ask if you wanted to do something cheesy like grab milkshakes sometime.

Having you hot and wet on his lap wasn’t even on the edges of the outside of the periphery of his radar. He’s really trying to keep it together, but he’s barely maintaining a grip on his actions.

Attempting to focus, he leans forward again to explain a character point. You turn your head and look into his eyes attentively, whilst simultaneously rocking your hips ever so subtly and chewing on the inside of your bottom lip.

All at once, something shifts. Something big.

Eddie holds your gaze for way too long. Or maybe you hold his.

Maybe it doesn’t matter anymore, as you both silently acknowledge that there’s way more going on here than simple D&D advice.

Simultaneously, you both come to realise that your affections are most definitely reciprocated.

Shit, he likes me.

Fuck, she likes me back.

And then, as your eyes are locked and he sees your pupils blow wide, Eddie loses that tenuous grip.

Suddenly, both of his hands come to your hips, and he presses his forehead against one of your shoulder blades. He grips you tightly and moves you back and forth against him, squeezing, pulling, pushing, dragging. He’s keeping his movements as tiny as possible so as not to rouse the attention of the group, but what he lacks in expansiveness he more than makes up for with strength and intensity.

You think this might genuinely be the most erotic thing you’ve ever done with your clothes on. You’re hot and wet, and you barely care that you’re in a room full of people, supposedly playing a nerdy game.

Eddie keeps moving you. One exquisite movement spreads your sopping folds in your underwear, and your mouth drops open in a gasp, hand gripping the edge of the rickety table. You try to disguise your movements by shoving the end of a pencil into your mouth and hunching over your paperwork.

Eddie totally notices, and stills you. His warm palms continue to press against your hips, his strong fingertips digging into your flesh. Instead of continuing the back and forth movements, he pulls you down as hard as he can onto his lap whilst outwardly retaining his composure, turning the garbled sounds coming from his throat into encouraging noises for the group.

The two of you can barely focus anymore. Eddie hasn’t let his hands travel anywhere above the tabletop, lest his actions be seen by the others, but if your expression is even half as flustered as Eddie’s is red, somebody is going to notice something. And soon.

You take a couple of deep, steadying breaths.

You’ve already completed your character, so you decide to do a faux check in with Eddie, asking, not entirely innocently,

“Eddie? Is there anything else you’d want me to… take off?”

Turning, you add, even less subtly,

“What should I do now, Master?”

Eddie’s face screws up and his jaw clenches, and you feel the rock of his hips as he bucks his hips up underneath you, pressing his hardness into your flesh and muffling a grunt into your shoulder.

His head snaps back up suddenly and his voice becomes clear and piercing, as he inhales quickly and declares to the room, waving a hand,

“Okay, lunchtime! Everybody out!! You guys need some fresh air and I need a break. I don’t wanna see you for at least an hour, and you’d better come back with pizza! Goddit?”

The teens comply, bustling out the door, a few of them eye-rolling and grumbling something about how this is almost like being at home with their parents.

They’re still leaving as Eddie moves his face so close to you that you can feel his breath in your hairline, and his soft, pink lips tickle the edge of your ear.

In a low, velvety voice, he murmurs, in a tone that’s somehow both challenging and pleading,

“Please Princess, turn around and say that to my face...”

You smirk, and reach behind you to pick up a D12.

With all the sultriness you can muster, you raise your eyebrows and indicate for him to take it. He opens his hand, and you place it down, the tips of your fingers lightly skimming the hot, damp skin of his palm.

Looking into his eyes again, you’re relieved to discover that your power of speech remains entirely intact, as you murmur, with more confidence than you thought you possessed,

“Okay, Master. How about this? You roll, and the result is how many kisses you have to give me...”

Eddie swallows and almost chokes, sitting up straight and gently lobbing the die across the mess of paper and writing implements. His chocolate eyes don’t leave yours as it rolls and comes to a stop in the centre crease of one of his manuals. He struggles with the internal conflict of never wanting to break your gaze and a deep desire to check the number.

He has no idea where the rest of today, let alone this, is going, and he’s grateful he has at least the next hour in which to find out. But he does know one thing:

He’s never been so desperate to roll a 12 in his entire fucking life.

Thanks so much for reading!

(This might become part of an anthology of D&D-related adventures - let me know if you’d like to see more!)

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed this, it’s honestly like throwing breadcrumbs and roses for your writers 😃🥰

My masterlist

I have a general taglist now, let me know if you’d like to be on it 😃

Tags: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @curlyjoequinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @wonderlanddreamer

[jjmaybankswifeyx]

don’t play with me princess

zach justice x fem!reader

warnings • smutty smut smut, zach : daddy, kissing, use of yn, pet names, oral sex, flirting, angst, jealous zach, swearing , 18+

summary: you went on dropouts after being friends for years and him begging you for ages to come the podcast , you finally give in and things kick off.

*Do not copy my work*

*zach has his own place in this*

you were messaging zach all last night about the podcast, what time to come etc he was being so sweet telling you he’s gunna be with you the whole time but knowing zach he will probably bully you for it tomorrow on the podcast “i’ll be fine” you mumbled before dozing off to sleep.

you wake up at 11:06 to zach phoning you making sure your awake as you always sleep in, unfortunately you had just woke up and had an hour to get ready and leave as you had to be there for 12:30 and it takes 20 minutes to get there “yea you just woke me up” you say rolling out of bed “good can’t have my star guest not come” he says, you hang up the phone starting to get ready doing a natural look as you didn’t have time nor effort to do a glam look, once you finished your makeup you chose your outfit then left.

you got there about 5 minutes before the pod started saying hi to everyone “omg yn” alyssa shouts across the room running towards you engulfing you in a big hug “alyssa ahh i missed you so much” you say with a massive smile “alright alyssa she’s mine calm down” zach says appearing around the corner with a smug little smirk on his face “oh shut up zach” turning around to face alyssa again and walking into the studio.

“hello welcome or welcome back to dropouts today we have an extra special guest, my girlfriend yn y/l/n” looking at u in shock “oh you wish” looking at the mic “i do i really do, so yn” your quick to answer as your nervous as what hes gunna say “yes zach” already dreading the question “how have you been” relieved with this you start to smile “yea it’s been great honestly i’ve started my own clothing line and makeup and it’s going great!” smiling knowing how far you’ve come “wow that’s great! any boys recently ?” jared says adding to the convo “oh jared you know” you say winking at him before you both start bursting into laughter, you look over at zach and he looks like he’s burning a hole into your brain, he looks mad ? you chime in “no guys i’m jk don’t clip that” you say with a nervous laugh zach still does not look impressed until he spits out “oh yn you wouldn’t even kiss jared on the cheek never mind do the devils tango with him” smirking you reply “oh and how would you know that” he stares at you for a second “okay guys if your not subscribed to the patreon you get a 7 day free trial, you get extra bits from these podcasts also you get them earlier plus extra videos like the drunk episodes when we get me and some other people drunk and try spill some secrets” you just look at him unimpressed as he carries on.

by now your on the subject of sex and relationships jared talking about this girl he is going out with tonight and how he would love to have something with her as theyd been speaking for months “yea jared i think you just gotta go for it, no woman wants a man who takes their time, and they don’t want to beg for it either ” you say giving him a woman’s perspective “oh yn you were begging for it last night” zach says smirking earning an oh and oh shit from jared and alyssa you just completely gobsmacked on what this man just said to you “oh please like i would go to you for that your probably not even as good as you make out zach, actually alyssa can you relate to this a man always says he knows what he’s doing yet he can’t get it in the right hole” jared and alyssa start laughing hesring a very quiet yes from alyssa as zach says “oh trust me i know what i’m doing” you didn’t look impressed “hm ye still don’t believe it sorry zach” he’d had enough at this point he wanted to throw you over his shoulder, take you upstairs and prove it while you were screaming out his name “don’t play with me princess”, jared just gasped and alyssa just started laughing you however just turned over and said “of course i’m gunna mess with you other wise your gunna wind me up so” looking over at him letting your eyes drop for a mere second you saw him readjusting himself seeing a massive bulge in his pants looking up with him smirking at you.

alyssa and jared start having a conversation about something i’m not sure what i was zoned out thinking about what zach said and his bulge until you were pulled out by zach coming closer to you wanting to whisper something “i’m gunna fuck you so hard after this your not gunna be able to even speak and say i didn’t know what u was doing, you understand me gorgeous?” you nod while backing away just smiling jared and alyssa obviously caught on “um guys what you saying over there” knowing you were caught until zach chimes in “oh i was just asking yn about something i heard about her clothing line and it’s true but not able to say sorry. it’s a secret” you sigh knowing zach just saved your ass and his.

after 1 hour of you and zachs glances you started you flirt with jared to get a reaction out of zach, must say he contained himself pretty well until the pod finished you said your goodbyes to jared and alyssa claiming you were gunna hang out with zach for a while as you haven’t seen eachother in months they believed it obviously as it is true you did miss him but you needed him now, as soon as they walked out that door you said “so you gunna prove it to me or what?” walking over to him looking up batting your eye lashes without a word he smashes his lips into yours quietly letting out little moans and gasps as he picks you up taking you to his room he throws you on the bed hovering over you “hm you look so good today” moaning while he’s kissing your neck “you too baby, wanted to have my way with you since i first met you” you moan against his touch not knowing this as you thought you guys were just friends with the occasional flirt “take your clothes off princess wanna see you” he says throwing his shirt some where across the room, after hearing those words you have never done something quicker you were lying there naked while zack still had his jeans on he slowly started kissing down your stomach reaching down to your bare dripping pussy “this wet already baby? hm someone’s needy” saying with a grin before you could answer he dived into your pussy sucking your clit making you scream out in pleasure “hm zach more baby please” he starts to pump his fingers in and out of you sucking and licking your clit, you could hear his tiny little moans and the vibrations coming off, “could jared eat your pretty pussy like this baby?” he says hint of jealousy in his voice you shake your head unable to focus “words princess” he says picking up his pace “no! daddy you do it better than anybody” you say about to come until he stops what he’s doing and looks up at you “what did you just call me?” you now are very embarrassed yet the words come out you couldn’t stop it “d-daddy” he smiles looking at you “fuck princess i cannot do this i need to be in you” you sigh then spreading your legs for him as he unbuckles his belt letting the cold air hit your core “fuck gorgeous such a good girl for daddy” he says slipping into you, he’s massive so much bigger than you thought “fuck daddy your huge” that just gives him a boost and he starts picking up the pace, “oh baby you don’t how long i’ve wanted to do this” he says moaning in your ear “me too daddy needed your cock for so long hmm” screaming without a care who heard you “your mine princess” you moan at the words nesrly making you cum alone “all yours daddy” you say trying to fight for breathe “what princess didn’t quite hear you?” ramming into harder and deeper “i’m yours daddy all yours!!” shouting even louder before he utters “good girl” as his thrusts get sloppy “where do you want me beautiful” without even thinking you say “in me daddy i’m on the pill” he does a couple more thrusts before you both are cumming the hardest you ever have, nobody has ever made you feel this way and you loved it, he pulls out of you now all cocky “that prove it to you huh” saying all confident “wasn’t even that good” you say smirking “hm i wish i could believe that but your moans and words say different gorgeous” he says before getting something to clean you both up.

as you were laying there he says “i meant it you know” you look up at him confused “your mine now, not letting you go” you just kiss him as you fall asleep tangled up together.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I hope you enjoyed leave me things to write in my inbox 🤍🦭🌟

[peeponastick]

Unraveled

Domme!Reader x Sub!Yuji Itadori

Word count: 2.5K of pure smut

Rating: Explicit NSFW 18+ Minors DNI

cw/tw: fem!reader, teasing, edging, orgasm control, overstimulation, cursing, dacyrphilia if you squint, oral sex (f. giving) & deepthroating, spit?, sweat, nipple/breast play, lots of dirty talk (Yuji is very vocal yummm), size kink?, not super hardcore BDSM or dom/sub dynamics but there are elements (if i had to label it, reader would be a pleasure/mommy domme/switch but she's really just a freaky lil' minx. no mommy/mama titles used!!!!), praise, use of pet names (sweet boy/pretty boy/good boy, etc), creampie.. phew I think that's it

Synopsis: just purely depraved smut someone help me that i wrote while taking a break from my Itachi fic. Yuji is such a sweet subby boy and reader thoroughly enjoys herself as she makes a mess of him. 

This is my first time writing straight-up smut and my first Kinktober writing!! There's not enough Yuji smut out there and that's a damn shame bc muscular puppy boys make my brain go brrrr. I hope y'all enjoyyy <3

♡♡♡♡ Smutty smut smut right under the cut♡♡♡♡

Yuji let out a breathy gasp as your wet folds grazed ever so lightly against his oversensitive tip yet another time. Your pretty boy was sprawled out beneath you on the bed, gripping the satin sheets as he struggled to control himself. A wicked smile spread across your face seeing him like this, so desperate for you.

You had been playing with him for an hour already, languidly peppering kisses down his neck, broad chest, and chiseled ab muscles at a torturously slow pace. Your lingerie-clad figure hovering inches above him, the soft skin of your breasts rubbing against him as you made your way down. Making him squirm as you lightly dragged your nails down and up his v lines, teasingly getting closer and closer to his hardening erection. 

He watched you with eager eyes, mind overrun with buzzing anticipation as you began to lightly stroke his cock, seductively looking up at him and licking your plump lips. That sight alone was too much for him as he tossed his head back against the bed, “Fuuuckk!” he moaned, his whole body tensing and flushing with heat as he tried to reconcile how badly he wanted more stimulation with the deliciousness of the sexual tension he felt pulsing through his veins. His head shot right back up to resume intently watching you, not wanting to miss a minute of the beautiful sight laid out in front of him. 

“P-Please”

He knew it was early to start begging, but he couldn’t help himself. Every breath, look, and touch of yours drove him absolutely wild, and right now, he desperately wanted– needed more of you. 

“Please, please, more,” his voice laced with sweet desperation. You paused, sitting on his thick, muscular thighs, your brow quirking at his brazen request. 

A loving smile warmed your face, “So needy today, hmm my pretty boy?” your saccharine voice rang in his ears. He enthusiastically nodded, a pleading look in his puppy brown eyes, his hips tensing and bucking once at the lack of stimulation. “Ooh what a poor thing,“ you cooed, rubbing his sculpted chest. 

You slowly leaned over him, arching your hips as you placed your hands on either side of his neck to bring your full breasts inches above his face. Your lace-covered, hard nipples gently brushed against his wanting lips and nose as you teasingly rocked back and forth. 

Mesmerized by your body, he let out a soft moan as he fervently tried to latch onto your nipple. His mind went hazy with desire, his large, strong hands moving without his permission to firmly grab the plush of your hips. You let out a small gasp at the sensation of heat radiating from his palms against your skin.

You leaned down, bringing your lips a whisper away from his as you looked deeply into his lust-blown eyes. “I’ll give you more,” you purred against his lips, his fingertips digging into the tender flesh at the excitement of your words, “but no cumming,” a devious smile lit up your face as you licked his bottom lip to punctuate your order. Yuji let out a low groan from deep within him and you made your way back down to the center of his desire.

You took his fully hardened cock in your soft hands, resuming stroking it before you moved to lightly press a gentle kiss to his slit already leaking with sticky precum. His eyes were locked in on you, face twisted in divine pleasure and biting back his moans. But when you looked up at him, a sultry look in your eyes, as you began kissing lightly up and down his entire length, dragging your wet tongue along his cock between kisses, his eyebrows knit together as waves of white hot pleasure and desire flooded his senses, “Fuuckkk oh my god,” he cried out. 

He was coming completely undone and you had barely done anything, but he didn’t care. All he could think about was you, how good you made him feel, how much he loved you, how amazing your pretty mouth would feel wrapped around him and taking all of his lengthy girth down your throat. He needed more. 

As if you read his mind, you flicked your tongue along the base of his cock up to his frenulum, before taking the smooth head of his cock fully into your mouth. He whimpered, muscles shuddering with pleasure at the sudden warmth of your mouth, propping himself up on his elbows to get an even better view. 

“Mmmh feels s-so goood,” he panted, watching you swirl your tongue around his length while looking up at him with a naughty smile before you took more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you began passionately sucking. You hummed in enjoyment, sending vibrations through his cock that made his eyes momentarily roll back in ecstasy, and felt his thighs and lower abdomen flex as he was getting closer and closer to the edge. 

You were in control, but your own lust was starting to unravel you as well. Your spreading wetness gathering between your smooth thighs, pussy clenching at the sight of the mess you were making of Yuji. His soft pink hair disheveled from his squirming, sweat dripping down his temples, over his prominent cheekbones, rolling down his neck to drip off his collar bones that framed his beautiful figure, his whole body heaving at every sensation your skillful tongue and lips created. 

Your carnal appetite became insatiable, drunk on the sensual power you felt making him feel so good. You took his length all the way down your throat, swallowing around his pretty cock, before sliding him out of your mouth with a pop of your lips, your spit sloppily dripping off his length and down your chin onto your breasts. You continued deepthroating him, hungrily watching the pleasure overcome him as he whined, his hips bucking up to chase his high.

“Ahhh-haah fuuckkk!” he choked out a moan, “O-oh my god yess! Y-You make me, fuck-” he whimpered, “f-feel soo good,” eyes screwing shut at the overwhelming pleasure washing over him in heated waves. He could feel the pressure building at the base of his cock and in his lust-driven state, had completely forgotten what he was told. His primal urges controlling his body, he wanted more than anything to release the pressure building inside, to cum all over your beautiful face, chest, down your throat– anywhere, he just needed to cum.

Noticing him reaching the precipice of release, you pulled back, a sadistic glint in your smile as you stopped all stimulation making him desperately whimper. His sweet eyes looked at you with shock and confusion as he whined, “No, no, nooo pleasee y/n why, f-felt s-sooo good was so c-closee, pleease!” 

You tsked, “Good boys listen to what they’re told,” you warned in a soft but stern voice, “you wanna be a good boy for me, don’t you?” your honey-sweet voice lilted. 

“Yess!” he cried, tossing his head back against the pillow in pitiful frustration, tears of overstimulation flowing down his flushed cheeks. 

“Poor baby,” you cooed as you began ghosting your fingertips down his lower abdomen and around the base of his rock-hard erection. His hips rut up against you as he let out a whine, desperate for more of your touch. 

You crawled back over him, leaning down to give him a soft kiss at the edge of his pouty lips. His head perked up, noticing how close your soaking wet pussy was to the head of his cock. He looked up at you with half-lidded, innocent eyes, “Pleaseee I’ll be soo good,” his strong arms snaked up around you, large hands pawing at your hips and kneading the round of your ass, “just, mmneed more of you, fuck, I can’t-” 

Whether it was his pleading words paired with the sweet look on his face, or the way his needy touch was making your pussy crave the feeling of being stretched by his thick cock, you decided to oblige.

Looking deep into his soft eyes, you leaned down to press your lips against his, pausing centimeters away to let a breathy moan whisper against his lips before he reached up to pull you into a passionate kiss. 

You pulled back, sucking on his bottom lip, eliciting an excited moan from him. You slowly moved your hand down your curves to grab his hand that had made its home in the crease of your thigh, guiding him to the heat between your thighs. You rubbed his long fingers along your slit, indulging him in the knowledge of how badly you wanted him too. 

“Shii-iiiit,” he hissed at the feeling of your burning arousal, his cock twitching with excitement. You brought his hand up from between your legs, his eyes captivated by the glossy wetness coating his fingers. You seductively locked eyes with him as you pulled his fingers closer to your face, wrapping your swollen lips around his pointer finger as you sucked your wetness off, a shuddering moan left his throat at the sight. 

Yuji’s lust-glazed eyes looked up at you, “Mmm wan-wanna taste p-please,” lolling his tongue out obediently. 

“Such a good boy,” you hummed with a smile, dropping his hand to let him savor the taste of you on his fingers, a look of elation on his face at receiving such a reward. 

As he lapped up every drop, you began rocking your hips back and forth, arching your hips to position your pussy ever so close to the head of his weeping cock. Your slick-covered lips lightly brushed against his tip as you moved forward, making his breath hitch as he let out a strained moan. 

His needy hands bruisingly gripped your hips before one began roaming your body, caressing your soft skin and pulling aside your lingerie to expose and fondle your breasts. You flashed him a sinful smile as you continued to tease your poor needy thing, his hips thrusting up in desperation anytime your wet pussy hovered close enough to touch. 

Rolling your nipple with his thumb before he latched onto your breast with his supple lips, going back and forth between breasts, hungrily kissing and sucking as he moaned contently.

“Fuuckk baby” you mewled at the delicious sensations, the ache of desire in your lower abdomen becoming unbearable. 

You rocked your voluptuous figure forward again, grazing your arousal-flushed lips against Yuji’s tip once more. On the return of your hips, you slowly slid the head of his eager cock inside your wet pussy, both of you let out ragged gasps and moans at the long-awaited sensation that sent white-hot pleasure pumping through your veins. You paused, relishing in the sinful stretch you felt just from his tip.

He panted, his muscular arms and shoulders flexing as he reached to grip your waist, cock throbbing as he desperately tried to fight the overwhelming urge to slam your hips down and indulge himself in the intoxicating feeling of your warm, wet pussy lips swallowing his entire length. 

When neither of you could take it anymore, you sank your hips all the way down, burying his pulsing erection to the hilt between your tight walls. Your pussy squeezing him at the feeling of being so full. His eyes focusing on where you two were connected, enamored by the sight of his cock disappearing inside you.

You spread your palms across his firm chest as you began slowly riding him, almost letting the tip pop out before you sheathed his engorged cock deep within you again, your eyes transfixed on the mess of a man beneath you. 

“F-Fuckkkkk, y/n” a throaty whine leaving him as his eyes screwed shut, mouth agape as he tossed his head back in ecstasy. 

He looked up at you with a dazed expression, “Holy fuckk, fee-feels so fucking good,” his words fumbling between breathless moans, “mmmh I-I love, I love y-you so much,” his sweet voice drawled.

You smiled affectionately, leaning down to press gentle kisses from his pink cheek to the corner of his lips, “I love you too, sweet boy,” your silken voice danced against his lips as you pressed your plump lips to his. He kissed you back, fire pooling in his lower abdomen at your words and kisses as your pussy milked his cock, he nipped at your lower lip as you pulled back. 

His hands grasped your hips firmly as he began thrusting up into you, unable to withstand the torturous pace at which you were riding him any longer. You gasped, a strangled moan coming from deep within you at the rippling shockwaves of pleasure his pounding cock sent through your body. 

“Fuuuckkk, like that baby ooh m-my god,” you sobbed wantonly, your breasts bouncing as he relentlessly fucked up into your pussy. A coil beginning to form deep in your core as he pounded you from below, unhinged in his desire to pleasure you and chase his own high, both of you moaning in combined euphoria. His throbbing cock massaged your g-spot with each thrust, his hand moving to rub circles around your pulsing clit with his slender fingers.

You felt the coil tightening in your lower abdomen, your bodies both tensing at the nearness of release. Your brows knit together in bliss as you looked down at your pretty boy, pleasure painting his face with determination to make you cum before he went over the edge, the pressure at the base of his erection building with every thrust. 

You tilted his chin up, making him look into your eyes, “Cum with me, my good boy,” you breathlessly commanded, feeling lightheaded as you began teetering on the edge of your climax. Yuji’s pupils dilated with pure lust and desire, your words releasing the floodgates of restraint, his pace mercilessly quickening, dragging curses and screaming moans out of your chest. 

Your aching cunt clenched around him as your orgasm exploded out of you, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he let out an exasperated cry, thrusting one final time as deep inside you as he could. Stilling as his cock spasmed, emptying the contents of his heavy balls deep inside your pussy, filing you up, your pulsing pussy milking him for every last drop. 

He held you there for several moments as the electricity continued coursing through the both of you. Your bodies connected as one, his warm cum filling your pussy to the brim, your sweat dripping down to combine with the sheen of sweat covering his body, pooling in the lines of his carved muscles as you both panted with exhaustion. 

His hands tiredly dropped down to your thighs as he let out a satisfied groan, “FUCK, that was amazing,” a beaming smile on his face. You moved to slide him out of your abused pussy, teasingly dropping down the length of his sensitive cock one last time to make him hiss with overstimulation and smack your ass as you giggled.

You tossed your spent body down next to him, snuggling up to his sprawled figure. He hummed lovingly as he pulled you closer to him, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. Two lovers, connected as one heaping pile of sweaty flesh and tangled limbs, peacefully drifted off to sleep together. 

If you read this far, thank you so much!! I hope you liked it ♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

[itsonlybaby]

𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐝 - 𝐛. 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞﹒

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

playlist ! kinda took ur idea and ran with it, i love getting requests

Bellamy Blake- Arkadia

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ ⸝⸝ It wasn't uncommon for you to flirt with Bellamy, but it was unusual for him to flirt with you back. ﹒ 　 ⊹ 　⤷ cw: smut, plot, nsfw

Flirting with Bellamy was my forte, brushing me off was his. I had stopped counting the number of times he'd dismissed my advances, not really caring. Most of the time it'd be a joke, and most of the time it wouldn't be.

Today was no exception.

I was walking down the halls of Arkadia to the bar where I 'worked' when I passed by Bellamy.

"Hey, hot stuff." I greeted as I always do with a smile.

"That's not my name, y/n." Despite his words, I could always hear a hint of amusement in his voice.

Bellamy always said it was inappropriate, that we were just friends, but that could never stop me. I knew he'd have to give in at one point, who wouldn't with me?

"Right, where are you off to looking like that?" I looked him up and down, he looked good. Though he looked like that every day. Literally.

Bellamy had a look of confusion as he examined his own outfit before connecting the dots and rolling his eyes, "I don't have time for this," He said before turning heel and continuing his walk down the hall.

"You know you love it!" I yelled before doing the same.

Life at Arkadia was simple, the grounders had stopped attacking around a month ago, and our hunting parties would always come back with feasts, it was how life should be.

And I didn't always flirt with Bellamy or shoot terrible pickup lines his way.

I knew when the time was right to do it, most saw it as a funny bit, most saw me as desperate or wierd, and some saw me as a girl trying to find her way which I found completely unrelated to the situation at hand. People usually made it known where they stood on the pyramid; either by their actions or words. But I wasn't sure where Bellamy stood on the pyramid; I was sure his stance fluctuated as the days passed.

Funny.

Desperate.

Weird.

Lost.

Those were the four trifectas of the pyramid.

There were days when I thought I should find my luck elsewhere- like Murphy or Monty, people who would fold the second I even glanced their way. But that was the easy way out, and Murphy wasn't exactly the cutest tool in the shed. I liked the chase with Bellamy; it was exhilarating. The constant back-and-forth banter on how it was inappropriate, how there were better times for flirting, and how bad the pickup line was.

The chase wasn't the only thing that fueled me, it was not knowing the outcome. Despite my confidence, I was sure how this would end with Bellamy, this could go on for years to come, and he could get a girlfriend. I wasn't sure how that thought made me feel- well I did; I just didn't know how to put it into one word.

Disgust, jealousy, hurt.

For my own brain's sake, it was a less-than-appealing thought.

"Hey, Sinclair!" I yelled, entering the back of the bar.

Jasper was already in his usual spot. He sat there every day for 43 days since they got rescued from Mount Weather, the only time he left was when we called Miller to carry him out.

I always asked Sinclair to just ban Jasper from the bar and save us the trouble, but Sinclair said to just let him cope after the trauma he'd been through, having lost someone special to him. So after the first 10 days, I stopped pitching the idea. I wasn't sure what else he was on, it was a sore sight for the other regulars who weren't drinking their way into the grave. It was a sad sight for anyone, but nobody but me had the guts to say anything to him.

I wasn't sure where Jasper was on the pyramid, when he wasn't drinking he was smoking, and when he wasn't smoking he was drinking. The only time he isn't doing either is when he's sleeping.

I like the think that the old Jasper would find it funny.

"So, what is it? Day 40 already?" I ask Jasper while pouring a new batch into the bar's fountain.

Jasper didn't turn to look at me, he didn't try and do anything, he never did. Though I didn't know how he felt since I've never lost anyone I loved.

"Day 43." His head was resting on his arms as he stared down into the half-empty glass, he didn't even feel like drinking, too consumed in his own sadness.

I didn't try to continue the conversation further, knowing the fun, easygoing Jasper was already drowned out by the buzz and taste of the drink in his hands. And I didn't openly argue with him, I already knew he was arguing with himself.

"Two minutes late, y/n." Sinclair said, appearing from the open door next to me.

Sinclair was like a mentor to me, he was tough on me but it kept me in line when I needed to be.

I knew where Sinclair stood on the pyramid, he thought I was trying to find my way in this burned world; which was only half true, the world was factually burned.

I wasn't lost, I wasn't trying to find my way. I thought people were taking it far too seriously for their own good. And no matter what I said, they would always think that.

"Salvation isn't easy, Sinclair." I joked, directing my attention from Jasper.

"Salvation lies within." Sinclair walked by me, taking a seat on the stool behind the bar.

"Salvation," I look to him, "Can kiss my ass." I smiled.

"Language," Sinclair warned, though a smile showed through his frown.

"Nobody deserves forgiveness," Jasper spoke up, in his self-deprecating pity.

I turned to look at him, his glass was now empty and he tossed me a familiar look.

I grabbed his cup and refilled it under the fountain, "Miserable quote of the day, Jas?" I handed him back his drink.

I joked to keep my own sanity around Jasper, his sadness had a way of infecting people. You could've been the happiest person but one minute around Jasper and you're drinking your way to an early grave.

Did it with half our regulars.

Jasper didn't reply, instead, he gulped down the thick liquor and stood abruptly. It wasn't a surprise, it was his usual routine. He'd drink until he felt tired of drinking, then dance until he felt tired of dancing.

All this sadness got me thinking back to my happy memories, I wonder what Bellamy is doing right now.

"You pass by Bellamy?" I ask turning my head towards Sinclair who was absentmindedly watching Jasper find music.

"Yeah, why?" He asked, resting his head on his palm with his elbow propped up.

"Just curious. Is he on watch today?" With how much I think about him you'd think I'd have his guard days down- but I don't- I'm not desperate.

Sinclair sighed, "For the first half, I think."

I smiled widely at this.

Serving at the bar was great, it meant I could socialize, and learn more about people, but most of all?

I could see Bellamy nearly every day.

Everyone used the bar room as a hangout area and eating area, it's where everyone went when they wanted to chill. It's where Bellamy always goes.

And like clockwork, I saw Bellamy's tall build walking into the bar with Miller and Clarke at his sides.

Miller was a nice guy, despite his total resting bitch face which intimidates most- if not all- people. Though, when it comes down to serious situations he isn't one to joke around. I, unfortunately, learned that the hard way when we were talking defense plans and I had the great idea to hit on Bellamy.

I was on guard watch for a week after that.

It was easy to understand where Miller landed on the pyramid, most of the time, he thought I was desperate. He believed I could get anyone else I wanted, and that I should give up on the delusion of Bellamy.

It really pushed my buttons when people couldn't grasp the joking aspect of it all, but I was too deep in the joke to stop.

I could tell Clarke didn't like me by the way she looked at me and by the way she talked to me. I didn't like her either. I wasn't sure why she didn't like me, it's not like I openly talk about hating her.

And it's fairly easy to know where Clarke stood, she told me every time I brought it up, she thought I was weird. Her words never got to me though, nobody ever did, I was very confident in myself.

Not wanting to suffer through my firting Sinclair patted me on the shoulder and took his leave, sad for him, I've been thinking of new ones this entire time.

Bellamy walked up to the bar while Miller and Clarke took their seats at a table, watching Jasper dance very tiredly.

"Let's hear it," I heard him say, already expecting my antics.

I smile, "Hear what?"

"Don't play dumb, I've been waiting all day for this one." My smile was quickly returned with a grin as he leaned on the surface.

"Why don't we skip the talking and go back to my room." I placed three cups full of liquor on the bar.

I was expecting him to laugh my comment off, return to his friends, and make some witty comments.

"Might take you up on your offer if you keep dressing like that,"

His tone was the opposite of his smile, he sounded serious.

Maybe he was drunk.

But he hadn't even drunk.

This was the first time he didn't brush off my flirting.

I felt all my confidence go out the window, finally not having a witty comeback I stared towards the ground. Feeling my face fog over with a deep red I hoped he didn't notice, I hoped he took the drinks and left.

But the world never worked in my favor.

"Look at me," Bellamy said.

I didn't hesitate to obey his command, looking up at him to be met with a cocky grin.

Bellamy noticed the red lining my cheeks, he didn't know I'd fold this fast.

"That's a good princess." I watched as he took all three cups in his big hands and turned his heel towards Clarke and Miller.

I was left stunned.

"Can I get another drink?" Jasper slurred.

"Shut up..." I breathed out.

I watched Bellamy's figure that entire night, he knew it too, I didn't try to hide it. But I knew he was watching me too, he watched as I interacted with people, while I poured drinks, and watched me watch him.

Why was I so nervous over two simple sentences? I was supposed to be in control.

The night was full of shameless staring, eye fucking each other from across the room. A complete switch from this morning.

My mind imagined what was under his clothes, what was below his waistline. The thought made my whole body shiver.

The hours passed by antagonizing slowly. Jasper got mad and voluntarily left the bar while Clarke and Miller took their leave, and once they left so did the rest.

But Bellamy didn't leave.

He stayed until the bar room was empty and the only thing you could hear was the low hum of music from the bar's old iPod recovered from Mount Weather.

Knowing it was just me and Bellamy left in the bar I felt nervous.

Was he going to leave too? Turn heel and pretend it didn't happen? What did happen? Why am I asking so many questions?

Bellamy was sitting at a table in the middle of the bar, gazing at me as I emptied the fountains into buckets for the night. Thanks, Jasper.

My hands were trembling the entire time, I was too focused on trying to look normal I didn't even notice when Bellamy stood up, I didn't notice when he walked to the bar, and I didn't notice when he leaned on it.

Placing the lock on the barrel I stood up once again, being startled when I locked eyes with Bellamy.

"Got anything else for me?" He asked, looking me up and down.

Confidence.

"I need you..."

That is not confidence.

"Go to your place, I'll be there soon." Bellamy stood up correctly while speaking, his body now towering over mine from across the bar.

I wasn't sure if it was because I felt intimidated or curious, but my chores had been long forgotten. My only goal now was to listen to Bellamy.

He stared with a smile, watching me walk out of the bar and down the hall towards my room.

Thousands of thoughts were racing around my mind.

Maybe he was just pranking me, or standing me up, finally getting payback for all the inconvenient times I've hit on him like a desperate dog.

One thing was for sure.

I knew where I stood on the pyramid.

Sneaking into my room I realized the mess I left it in when I woke up late this morning.

"Shit!" I whisper-yelled, quickly tending to the mess unsure of how much time I'd have.

What was I meant to do in these situations? Undress and look sexy on the bed? Just stand here and wait? Stare into the wall and think about my actions that led to this point? Only one of those options sounded good to me at this moment.

And it was definitely not the first one.

But what if he was expecting that?

I shut my mind up when I heard three knocks.

I didn't need to check to know it was him. What do people do in these situations? Do I wait before answering?

Confidence.

Opening the door I was met with Bellamy looking down at me. He wasn't in his jacket and he carried a serious face.

"Do you, um, wanna come in?" I ask, my voice wavering.

My confidence once again crumbled at the sight of him.

"I wanna do more than that," Bellamy said before walking inside, once the door was closed he pressed his lips to mine.

Something primal took over Bellamy, he kissed me wildly as we walked backward towards my bed. We didn't part once, not even when he roughly dragged my pants down and undid his, or when he tore my shirt to get to my breasts.

The cold air hit my nipple but was soon covered by his big, calloused hands. I moaned into the kiss and he smiled, parting from the kiss to get a full view of my chest.

I bit my lip as I watched him, his gaze shifting from my breasts, down my stomach, and towards my cunt hiding behind my panties.

"You were so cocky this morning," His hands roamed down underneath my panties, "What happened, princess?"

The feeling of him exploring my body made me shiver and let out a breathy moan.

I couldn't believe Bellamy had me crumbling and melting under his gaze and touch. It was everything I'd been dreaming of, I knew I wouldn't last long with his praise.

"Stop teasing." I breathe out, bucking my hips up more into his hand, needing more than his fingers.

He smirked and snaked my panties down my thighs at a teasingly slow pace.

"Careful what you wish for."

He gripped my thighs and spread them apart, my lips parting with them. Bellamy used one of his hands to lower his boxers just enough to reveal his hardened cock.

I shivered at the contact it made with my cunt, "Please."

With a smirk, he lined his tip up with my entrance, and with a light thrust, he only inserted the tip.

I propped myself up on my elbows and watched his tip enter me, despite the little amount he was giving me I still felt the pain of the stretch. I needed more, I needed him; all of him.

"Bell, please, more," I said in a whiny voice staring up into his brown eyes.

"Brave princess, huh?"

I wasn't expecting him to thrust fully into me, but I was glad he did. The feeling overtook my entire body with a shake of my legs causing me to throw my head back with a loud moan, despite the pain a soft smile appeared on my face.

Bellamy let out his own series of groans at the tightness around his cock, the sight of me such a mess over his dick was beautiful to him, knowing he caused this, knowing I could follow his orders so well.

"Good fucking girl." He groaned out, running his hands down my thighs and to my hips, gripping them tightly as he began thrusting into me roughly.

I couldn't keep my eyes open, pain being mixed with pleasure making me shut them tightly.

"Keep your eyes open, princess, I want you to watch,"

I opened my eyes and watched as his cock pounded into me, the wet coat clearly visible despite the low lighting.

Bellamy used one of his hands to start circling around my clit as a reward for listening to him.

I was already reaching my climax, his fingers guiding me to my peak.

"I'm so close, Bell," Lewd sounds filled both our ears.

"Let it go, it's okay," He deepened his thrusts when he leaned forward, ghosting his lips on my cheeks and giving kisses to my jaw.

My entire body shook as my orgasm hit, I grabbed onto his back and dug my nails into the flesh; needing to grip onto anything while he fucked me through my high. The pleasure was unlike anything I've ever felt, him being so close causing me to breathe in his scent- it was intoxicating.

"That's my good girl, just like that," Bellamy exaggerated out the 'just.'

Bellamy pampered my neck with his kisses, leaving surprises I'd find in the morning. But I was too starstruck to care, only thinking about how well he fit in me.

I could tell Bellamy was close, he sounder louder with his grunts, and his hips couldn't keep up with his thoughts. I ran my fingers from his back and into his hair, gripping it slightly.

Bellamy began thrusting more wildly and faster, chasing his high until he finally reached it.

"Princess," He pulled out and rested his dick on my stomach as he came with a loud groan in my ear.

Coming down from his high Bellamy pulled away from me, letting me see his cum that decorated my stomach. Before he could grab a cloth I scooped the cum up with my fingers and stuck them in my mouth as he watched; the salty taste invading my mouth while I bit my lip at his reaction.

Bellamy only smirked at me before zipping his pants back up.

"Want me to stay?" He asked, watching me crawl under the fur covers.

"Of course I do, hot stuff." I scooted over giving Bellamy enough room to slide in next to me.

"That's not my..." He cut himself off, "Alright, princess." He smiled as he pulled me into a small kiss.

I learned two things that night.

Bellamy was amazing in bed.

And I didn't care about the pyramid anymore.

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[stevesbipanic]

Eddie sometimes went quiet.

Wayne noticed it after Eddie moved in. He didn't do it as much when he was little and Mary would bring him round, but here he was at ten years old completely silent. When Eddie was little Wayne assumed the boy was just shy, but now that he lived with Eddie he knew that sometimes a whole week would pass with not a peep from the young boy. M

The doctor said it might be a trauma response, might just be something he would do from time to time, either way, Eddie Munson, one of the loudest and dramatic kids Wayne had ever met would still be him, just nonverbal. They worked with a notebook but sometimes Eddie would get frustrated he wasn't being answered fast enough and they were running out of paper.

It was Wayne's buddy from work that presented a solution. "Have you tried sign language? My son was born deaf and Susan and I went to night classes so we could talk to the kid." So that's exactly what Wayne did, he moved his shifts to the day and spent his nights at the school learning to talk to his boy. On his days off he'd show Eddie what he'd learnt and slowly they were able to bridge the gap that the silence presented.

The silent days didn't stop as he grew older, his teachers didn't really understand and sometimes he'd end up in detention with a note saying he was being disrespectful. His friends understood though and enthusiastically asked Eddie to teach them sign language, they'd use it even when Eddie was happily chatting with them, they liked that they shared a 'secret' language from the bullies.

He hadn't had any silent days since Vecna, which Eddie thought was a miracle in itself given the circumstances. However, he woke up a couple months after spring break knowing what kind of day it was going to be. He felt frustrated with himself, he was supposed to be hanging out with Steve and Robin today and was worried with how they'd take it, especially Steve. They'd been dancing around each other's feelings lately and he didn't want to ruin everything before it even started. Resigned he grabbed a notebook and pen and headed to Family Video.

He'd spent ten minutes psyching himself up in the parking lot before heading inside, note written and ready explaining that no it wasn't anything Upside Down related, he just wouldn't be speaking today. The door's bell rings in his ear as he stops suddenly staring at the scene before him. Steve and Robin were, quite rapidly, signing at each other. Steve turns at the bell, smiling at Eddie.

"Eddie!"

Still in a bit of shock, Eddie signs on instinct, "You know sign?"

Steve has the same look of shock now, before his face breaks into an even bigger smile and signs back, "You know sign! You know sign, how, why?"

His hands are faster than his brain as he explains how he goes quiet sometimes, and Wayne and night classes and Hellfire before asking Steve how he and Robin know sign.

Steve looks bashful as he signs back, "Um, after Starcourt my hearing started to go, so Robin, ever the linguist, insisted we learn, which was actually very smart of her. I can still kinda hear but I get by mainly on lip reading."

Things started to make sense now to Eddie, how sometimes Steve seemed to just nod and smile at whatever the kids were saying, or would need things repeated to him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why didn't you tell me about going nonverbal? Robbie has days like that too."

"Didn't want you to think I was weird."

"I like that you're weird, I like you, Eds."

Eddie blushes at what he interprets is his sign name from Steve, the letter E and the sign for love combined.

"I like you too, Stevie." Eddie signs, the letter S mixed with the sign for heart.

Eddie may still have his silent days, but now he shares them with Steve, and they can sign the things he's not allowed to say out loud, making sure they both know they're loved.

[shallowseeker]

And yeah, it sucks, and Dean was cruel and murderous and dehumanizing, but on the other hand, 14 days isn't very long.

And yet, at 14 days, things were already starting to repair and heal with Jack just a little bit, even before Cas came back.

(I've seen it said that this didn't occur till after Cas came back, but in 13x04, Jack's behavior and personality are what began to thaw Dean out and, per the script, "put chinks in his armor.”)

///

Interestingly, even back in 13x02, Dean’s body language doesn't match his words. Here it reads as "move behind me."

///

By the end of 13x04, Dean and Jack are tentatively starting to like each other. They're even a little bit alike in this scene:

*THEM: not looking directly at each other as they say HEY awkwardly*

Jack: Hey.

*Dean, doing the same thing*

This is also maybe the first time Dean calls Jack by his name? (I'd have to check, but I think so.)

*Dean’s eyes flitting around nervously*

Dean: “You did good today (pause) Jack”

Yeah, I think you can make a well-argued case for something-something “conditional love.”

But given the Kelly-Cas brainwashing and everything else that came before, I’d say it’s not unreasonable for Jack to like having established trust. To have earned trust.

Earning trust is important in all relationships, not necessarily always an evil “conditional” thing.

///

Then Dean goes and apologizes to Sam, saying that he was out of line during the therapy session and that he's sorry for being a dick lately.

It's sweet, but also, no one is being very empathetic to Dean and his losses. But I think by this point in Dean's life, Dean's not really expecting that either.

He’s only able to get that support from one person in his life right now: Jody Mills. (13x03) Which is part of why he felt comfy taking the case with her, I think.

Later in this scene, in a break with his past tendencies, Dean will actually try to rely on Sam:

///

DEAN: And he tapped his power and saved our asses, so that's a win.

Sam was right about one thing, though. It wasn't Jack’s powers that impressed Dean, or even being saved. It was the effort.

(Jack's personality was already thawing Dean, too.)

///

The rest of the scene is sweet. Dean tries to see Sam's perspective, and Sam tries to see Dean's.

It's a trading of strength and hope, which is how real families are, too. Our strength and resilience wax and wane, and we share our burdens, but we try to share our hope, too.

This is a rare occasion: Dean is trying to share a burden; he lets Sam know how bad it really is.

(Dundundun! Ellen Harvelle would be proud.)

Dean is accepting that Sam isn't going to get there on his own. So he spells out his despair for him. The Cas of it all.

And Sam seems to get that it’s a Cas thing. That's clear in his behavior in the next episode. And Sam wants to be there for Dean, I don't think that's a lie, but…

Sam ALWAYS wants Dean to tell him stuff like this, to talk out the big stuff. But one of Sam’s hopes is that talking things out will fix them.

(Classic Type-A kinda mentality.)

But THIS? Cas’s death isn't fixable, not quite as nebulous as the mom-in-Apocalypse-World-problem is. (In fact, I wouldn't put it past Sam to have been up all night researching, finding NO way to get Cas back. Alternatively, the constant casework could represent just utter denial.)

Anyhoo, Sam's grieving the losses too, but Dean is different. And unfortunately for Sam, John Winchester's grief was so horrendous and frightening that seeing Dean's, uh, particular kind of grief triggers Sam's panic response.

Just look at Sam’s face here.

SAM's BRAIN: brrrrrrrr RED ALERT brrrrr RED ALERT

*Meanwhile*

///

Next episode (13x05):

We find Sam in a state of near-panic. Just look at that face:

And actually, looking at Sam's D8> here…

..I think it's possible that he TOTALLY knew what the PB&J stuff was about, and his brain went into a meat grinder of:

OH NO FUCK NO NO NOT THIS--I RECOGNIZE THIS. THIS KIND OF GRIEF RUINED MY CHILDHOOD!!!!!111

{8[

Don't Grieve in Front of Me Dean (analysis)

Don't Grieve in Front of Me Dean Redux (s7 analysis)

///

So.

Sam finds a case about best friends. Makes you wonder what he was googling to find it...

And Sam’s distress surrounding the case is interesting, because he is behaving so DIFFERENTLY than he was in 13x02 and 13x03:

Dean: *cue surprise*

Dean is weirded out. Maybe he figured Sam would let him take a real break, or maybe it's just that the timing of Sam’s suggestion of leaving Jack behind feels weird now.

They’ve switched places.

Dean was eager to leave Jack in 13x03, and Sam was the one insisting on them staying with Jack to help him “learn to control his powers.”

Now, in about two weeks’ time, Sam’s like—“Jack has TV! We’ll put up extra warding! It’ll be fiiiine!”

Dean’s brain, probably: Hmmm. Sam is trying to cheer me up, but wow are these about-faces on what's bad parenting and what's good parenting kinda fucked up.

///

And at the end of the episode, Dean tries again to tell Sam just how bad it is (mirroring Mary's willingness to offer up “not being okay” in s12):

And Sam is pretty much at sea.

[theemporium]

What about... Pining and yearning driver (doesn't matter who he is tbh) but in reality he's just stupidly in love and doesn't realize reader is also in love with them 😭 happy ending of course <3

thank you for requesting!🖤

.

“You’re glaring.” 

“No, I’m not.” 

“Yes, you are.” 

“No, I’m not.” 

“Mate, she’s his assistant. Stop planning his murder,” Lando grumbled, though the amusement was clear on his face. He was enjoying each and every second of this.

It wasn’t uncommon for Max to find him in the McLaren motorhome on a Thursday afternoon, especially if they knew they would be in a conference together. The Dutchman would most likely just spend time catching up with his friend, laughing and joking about before they would be guided to the interview by their PR teams. 

However, more recently than not, Lando was starting to notice that Max was showing up to the McLaren motorhome for a different reason. A reason that had everything to do with the fact the motorhome beside the papaya orange team was none other than the Ferrari one. And Max had his eye on a certain member of the Ferrari team. 

You. 

You, who was Charles’ assistant. You, who was currently standing outside the Ferrari motorhome with your boss and his teammate. You, who currently had your hands on Charles’ chest as you tried to smooth out his team polo as best as you could. 

Not that Max cared. Not at all. He had no reason to care and he certainly didn’t. Or at least, that was what he was telling himself.

“You know,” Lando continued when the Dutchman had fallen silent. “Charles was telling me he thinks she has a crush on a driver.” 

Max’s head whipped around. “What?”

“Yeah,” Lando shrugged casually. “Apparently she admitted it when she was drunk.” 

“Who is it?” Max asked almost immediately.

Lando grinned. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” he retorted defensively. 

“Right,” the Brit laughed before patting him on the back. “God, you are so easy to wind up.”

“Lando,” Max grumbled. “Name.”

“Huh? Oh, it must have slipped my mind,” Lando sighed before shifting the conversation onto something else. 

But it didn’t leave his mind. It couldn’t leave his mind. Instead, Max spent the whole press conference wondering who the driver was. He racked his brain on who he saw you interacting with, who he had seen you hanging around more often than the others. 

The obvious answers were either one of the Ferrari drivers. But you had always insisted you viewed Charles as a brother, yet that didn’t cross Carlos off the potential list. He wondered if it was either of the McLaren drivers, or maybe even Daniel, his own teammate. He wondered maybe if it was one of the drivers he wasn’t as close to on the grid, that maybe you hung out with them for more than he realised. 

His answers during the conference were short, blunt and distracted and everyone noticed. 

You had been standing off to the side, phone in hand as you answered a few emails here and there whilst Charles dealt with his media duties. However, your attention was quickly pulled away from your work when you heard the Dutchman speak. And then, you were distracted by your own concern for him when you realised how off he was acting. 

You had waited until the end of the conference before you approached him, a sheepish smile on your face when you realised he was far too lost in thought to even realise you were beside him. You placed your hand on his arm, causing the boy to jump slightly and you quickly pulled your hand back.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised with a smile. “Are you okay?”

Max blinked. “What?”

“Are you okay?” you repeated as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “You seem really off today.”

“Uh, yeah,” he muttered, a crease forming between his brows. “Just have a lot on my mind.”

“Anything I can help with?” 

Deep down, Max knew you were probably only asking to be polite. He knew you probably expected him to just shake his head and say no so you could run off to help Charles like you should have been doing, rather than standing there talking to him. But the question was plaguing his mind, and who better to give him an answer than you?

“Do you like one of the drivers?” he blurted out.

You blinked, slightly surprised. “What?”

“Do you like one of the drivers?” he asked again, his eyes never leaving yours. “Lando says you did.”

“He did?” you questioned, your voice a little high-pitched and you hoped the Dutchman couldn’t tell your face was burning up. “I wonder where he got that from—-”

“Charles told him,” Max told you.

And you cursed your boss for opening his mouth.

“I…might,” you muttered shyly.

“Who is it?” 

“Max—”

“I won’t tell him,” he continued, pretending like the idea of you saying one of his friend’s names wouldn’t make his stomach churn uncomfortably. “I could even help you if you want—”

“No, Max, it’s you,” you interrupted, your nails digging into your palm as you blurted out the words. “You’re the driver.”

Max nodded once but stayed silent.

You instantly wanted the world to open up and swallow you whole. You cleared your throat, taking a step back as you tried to pretend the embarrassment of his blatant rejection wasn’t making you want to curl into a hole and never come out.

“I’m sorry, I should just—” you started but Max quickly intervened.

“Do you want to get dinner with me?” 

You blinked at him. “Dinner?”

“Yes, with me,” Max continued. “Tonight. Or tomorrow night. Whenever it works for you.”

“I—” you paused, letting out a breath as you smiled at him. “I would like that.”

Max didn’t bother hiding the small smile on his face. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you said and nodded. “I’ll message you when I’m free.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he said, watching as you headed back towards the Ferrari garage, a weight having been lifted off his chest as he watched you go. He couldn’t even deny the butterflies in his stomach as he thought about your message.

Max was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even see Lando approaching his side, grinning wide like a madman.

“I knew you liked her!”

“Shut up.” 

“Max and—”

“Fuck off, Norris.”

“Sitting in a tree–”

“You know what, you can get your own plane home.”

.

[gremlin-girly]

Kinktober Day 18

Title: Cheat Day

Pairing: Personal Trainer! Bucky x Curvy!female reader

Tags/warnings: SMUT, semi-public sex, shower sex (slippery), self-consciousness, mentions of cellulite/stretch marks, a smidge of fluff bc I can't resist, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it!!), pet names (doll, baby), praise

Summary: You are a newbie to a gym and one of the regulars takes a liking to you and offers to help you on your gym journey. However, you notice that he's a lot more hands on than other trainers at the gym

Word count: 2.9k

Banners by @/cafekitsune + dividers by @/saradika-graphics

A/N: maybe it should more aptly be gym buddy Bucky but alas... I had plans - I promise!! I might have to get my big fics out tomorrow rip me

Prev | Next | Masterlist

Warm Up

You hate, hate, hate HATE working out.

You hate the gym. You hate the way you look like a lost puppy and don't know which machine to use. You hate that you get so out of breath on a tread mill. You hate how your arms wobble when you lift weights.

And you hate that damn Stairmaster.

The only thing you love is perhaps how your deliciously thick thighs can support the heavy weights on the legs press like it's nothing. That would probably be it.

You take one of the last treadmills available, setting your bottle and towel down before fiddling with your earbuds. You're not really paying attention to the guy next to you; you're too focused on trying to get through your warm up.

You start at a walk. You're hair swishing as you lift it to your crown to tie with a hairband. The guy beside you picks up his pace and your eyes flicker over to him. And oh God. What a guy. He's tall and muscular, clearly a regular unlike yourself who makes every excuse under the sun to avoid the gym, with a mop of dark hair that's bouncing to his movements. He's barely sweating at a pace that would have you panting.

You don't realise you've been staring until he smiles at you, sticking his tongue out playfully, before going back to running.

You are red faced and almost trip over your feet. You need to focus. You turn your music up and eventually break into a light jog. After thirty minutes your gym buddy wipes down the machine and disappears to another section of the gym, flashing you a smirk and a wave has you watch him go.

His T-shirt has the logo of the gym of its back and for a split second you're wondering if you should book a session, before scolding your horny brain.

Workout. Focus on working out.

Arms

The next time you come to the gym, it's dark out. You'd spent the day in work and although you just wanted to go home and eat dinner, maybe have a glass (or three) of wine, you had made a promise to yourself to go and now you were here.

It was so much more peaceful at night. The blaring music was off and there was hardly anyone about. Suddenly, you loved your idea of coming here. You had little reason to be self-conscious with so few people around.

Today was arms and you were busy trying to hype yourself up using the bench press. Arms were the worst, just after cardio and you dreaded having to do this. Suddenly the thought of three glasses of wine didn't seem so bad.

Adjusting the weights either side of the bar, you slip under it, getting comfortable against the hard leather seat. You reach up and grasp the bar, straightening your arms and pushing the bar out of it's rest. Your arms wobble slightly, your arms bracing against the weight and you hadn't even managed one rep. Perhaps you'd done the weight wrong.

"Whoa doll!" A voice calls out and you strain your neck trying to look for the approaching footsteps. It's the guy from the other day. "You're gonna hurt yourself doing it like that."

"I - Uh-" you grip the handles, unsure if he wants you to let go or not, but you're palms are starting to sweat. "Okay."

He grins down at you, placing large, rough hands over yours and gently lifting the handles back to stationery position.

"Thanks." You sigh, rubbing your sweaty palms on your workout leggings. You glance up at him again, only to find you're eye level with his crotch and go beet red.

Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts.

The guy doesn't seem to notice. "I'm Bucky. I'm one of the trainers here."

"Y/N." You try and offer a smile but you're too focused on not thinking that his crotch his just right there.

"I've seen you round here once or twice before, um..." Bucky rakes a hand through his long hair. "You're new right? Have you thought about getting a personal trainer?"

You recalled almost tripping in front of him a week or so ago and flush red. Was it that obvious you weren't a regular? Unhelpful, mean thoughts fluttered through your head and you fought to push them away.

"That obvious, huh?" You smile sheepishly, finally sitting up on the bench.

"Very obvious." Bucky nods, still smiling at you. "You hadn't put the locks on the plates, they could have slipped and injured that pretty face."

Your eyes widen; you hadn't noticed the locks and were grateful Bucky was there to save you from injury... even if he was being a flirt about it.

Even if it made your heart flutter.

"Well, thankfully I have a hero to step in." You tell him playfully. "And about the personal trainer... to be quite honest, I don't think I could afford one right now."

You give him an apologetic shrug but he only smirks in response. "Good thing I'll help you for free. Consider it a free trial."

You eyebrows shoot up. Having someone around to motivate you and show you the ropes would be ideal, and especially if it was someone as handsome as Bucky, it may motivate you to come to the gym more often.

"Only if you're sure." You say cautiously, eyeing him. "I don't want you to lose out on work because you're helping me."

Bucky shrugs. "Hey, helping you is more important. I can just text you what days and times I'll be at the gym - if you're here the same time, then we can do some sets together."

You can't say no to that. His eyes brighten when you agree and exchange numbers before he runs you through how to correctly use the bench press, encouraging you and praising you even though you're red faced and drenched in sweat by the end of your set. But you feel fantastic.

If this was how your sessions with Bucky would be, maybe you'd have to consider saving up for more sessions.

Legs

Whichever the Bucky you saw the night he convinced you to take some sessions with him, didn't exist after that night.

The next few sessions with Bucky he'd been nothing but a hard ass, making your brows furrow with displeasure each time he taunted you. It spurred you to complete reps sure, but that wasn't the point. Quite frankly, you missed him being a little bit nicer and you missed the praise that came with it.

"It's false advertising," You huff mid-squat, shooting Bucky a glare. The more time you'd spent with him, the more confident you'd become at back talking him (even though you'd still complete all your reps). "If I'd have known you were going to be a drill sergeant, I wouldn't have agreed to this."

Bucky chuckles, eyeing your form as he stands with his big arms folded, sipping his water bottle. "And yet you finish every rep like a good little soldier." He teases back.

You scoff in response but your cheeks still grow warm. "Whatever."

After squats it was the leg curl machine. You're on your front, your quads under the foam cushions of the machines trying to push the bar against the curve of your ass but it's too heavy. Bucky is stood, as always, with folded arms watching you intently.

"Bucky, it's too heavy." You huff, letting your legs relax. "I need to put the weight down."

"No, you're doing it wrong." He chuckles. "May I?" He approaches, hands splayed.

You shrug, looking over at him with your chin in your palms. "Be my guest."

You still jump when you feel his strong hands on your thighs, moving them slightly wider. Your heart leaps into your throat and you could swear his fingers linger. His fingers are hot even through your gym wear and you're suddenly bashful when your head is filled with thoughts of another type of exercise you could be doing with Bucky. Again.

His hands trail to your knees slowly, bending them a little more before giving your calves a playful squeeze.

"Try now." He says quietly and you obey. The curl is a lot easier now, and the bar smacks your ass making it wobble.

"Oh, wow, OK." You chuckle bashfully. "Yeah OK you were right."

You catch Bucky smirking triumphantly but his eyes aren't on you; they're shamelessly glued to your legs and ass, watching you perform your reps.

Heat pools to your core and you quickly glance away. You have to be imagining it.

You have to.

Cardio

It had been about two weeks since you last saw Bucky and since you last visited the gym. You'd had a cold and then were so busy at work you couldn't find the time to drop by. You'd dropped Bucky a text to say you'd be out of commission but never explained why - and he'd not asked.

Sighing, you dumped your towel and water bottle next to the treadmill and began to walk. You'd come to the gym tonight for an escape. You hadn't wanted to text Bucky just in case he'd already be asleep but you itched to reach out.

The gym was a ghost town. Only the whirr of your treadmill echoed around the open space. You tried not to think about how you wished you'd bumped into Bucky or remember how he'd looked at you.

Maybe he's like that with all newbies...

That thought made your chest twist uncomfortably. You picked up your earbuds and shoved them in your ears, picking up your pace to a light jog.

So much for easing yourself back into it.

After an hour, you decide to call it quits.

It's 11pm and you just want to be back in your bed, hidden under the covers, away from the world.

You're on your way to the showers when you bump into a familiar face emerging from the men's changing room.

"Y/N?" Bucky

"Hey." You pause as he approaches, taking in the sight of his large biceps under the rolled up sleeves of his tee. "How've you been?

"Good. Long time no see. I thought I lost you."

You can't help yourself from smiling. "Oh no, can't keep me away from this place." You say sarcastically, making Bucky grin over at you.

"Really? Even miss me?" He teases softly.

"I don't miss you being a hard ass, if that's what you mean." You quip and Bucky scoffs. "But I have missed you."

Both of your gazes meet and the tension you'd been feeling over the last few weeks increases a hundred fold.

"So..." Bucky says slowly, barely breathing as he looks at you, not knowing which path to tread. "What are we doing tonight?"

"I've just finished," you say a little disheartened. "I was about to hit the shower."

"Can I join you?"

You both stare at one another. Bucky’s brain was expecting you to say your plan for your next set... not that you were going to shower. Mortified, redness bolts to his cheeks as he attempts to back track.

"I - I mean," he shutters and then coughs awkwardly. Your face is equally red but your eyes glimmer with want. "I thought - Uh- you were going to-"

"Sure," you say thickly.

Bucky's brain short circuits again and you give him that bashful smile that makes his heart stammer.

The women's showers are empty and after two minutes Bucky sneaks in behind you. As soon as the door closes, his strong arms pull you towards him, cupping your face before putting his lips on yours.

"Missed you too," he huffs, pulling his shirt off as you both fumble blindly for a shower booth. Bucky tugs at your gym clothes desperately as he kisses you, urging you to undress.

Your mind swims. He missed you too. He's kissing you senseless and you're sure that given the chance he'd rip your clothes from your body.

You peel away your clothes, pausing only to give Bucky more needy kisses in between layers. Bucky follows suit, discarding his sneakers, shorts and boxers into the pile next to your feet.

You feel a wave of self-consciousness as you take in Bucky's body; all muscle, toned and hard and utter perfection. Your eyes drop to your body; soft, squishable, with silvery zebra stripes running over your hips.

You hear Bucky suck in a short breath and you glance up through your eyelashes, smiling a little nervously. His blue eyes are transfixed on you as he closes the space between you. His fingers twitch as he reaches for you, desperate to feel your skin under his hands, but not knowing where he wants to touch first.

"Perfect," he murmurs, his hands ghosting over your hips, drawing you flush against him. His hands tighten their grip on your hips and you you gasp softly, feeling the hard heat of his cock brush against your thighs. One hand cups your face again, and Bucky’s head dips to kiss you slowly. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip and you open your mouth wider, letting Bucky kiss you with far more passion and severance than you'd anticipated.

You're lost in the kiss for what seems like an age; your fingers running through his hair as his hands explore your body, tracing each and every curve, groping at your breasts, hips and ass. You moan into his mouth, mimicking his actions, running your hands over his pecks and down his abs to his cock against your thigh. Bucky pants a curse as you pump him a few times, nipping along his jaw.

"Bucky," You whisper. "The shower."

"Right," he huffs. He pulls the shower door open and gestures for you to step inside first, following closely behind and pressing the on switch.

You gasp when cold water hits your back and Bucky chuckles, arms encircling your waist and moving in to latch onto your neck under the spray of now luke-warm water. Your arms attach themselves around his neck, half-hoisted as you spread your legs to allow Bucky to slot between them. You bite back a loud gasp when Bucky's hand slides between your legs, running along your slit finding your sweet bundle of nerves and drawing quick, tight circles.

"Bucky," you whimper into his neck, your your breathing hitching and hitching like the tightness in your core; rushing upward so fast you feel lightheaded.

"Cum for me doll, be a good girl and cum for me," Bucky sucks at your neck, groping at your tits with his free hand. You lean your head against the shower wall as you feel pussy clenches around nothing. Your fingers grip at Bucky's wet hair, gasping his name as you hang at the precipice of your orgasm. Without warning, Bucky plunges two fingers into your sopping hole, curling them inside you. Your orgasm crashes over you and you cum over his fingers with a wracked half sob.

Bucky's fingers are withdrawn as quickly as they're inserted, leaving you hollow and looking at Bucky pleadingly. He grins at you pecking your lips with a hasty kiss.

"'M sorry, doll. I promise to take my time next time but I need you so bad."

He lifts you with ease, pushing your back against the cool wall, wrapping his arms under your thighs and spreading them open. Wisps of steam rise from behind him as your eyes lock, his cock brushing against your slick folds only once before he slowly lowers you down onto him.

"Oh - oh - oh!" You moan as he breaches inch by inch, each time your walls contract around him, adjusting to his size. Your nails dig into his shoulders, your thighs shake with pleasure and you're utterly at his mercy as he starts to fuck up into you.

"That's it, baby." Bucky praises, littering your face with kisses. "You feel amazing on my cock."

You moan his name and kiss his lips hungrily, pulling yourself closer to him as he brings you to ruin again. Your pussy's grip is like a vice, milking him as you press yourself flush against him glassy eyes meeting his and Bucky can't take it any longer.

Bucky pants curses rutting into you before pulling out entirely and cumming over your stomach and thighs with a short groan. His cock continues to twitch, his cum slowly being washed away by the water save for the white, thick line that connects to your thigh. Bucky slowly lowers you to your feet and you lean against him for support, relaxing in the post-orgasm bliss and the heat of the water.

"I've wanted to do that since the moment I laid on you," he confesses, tilting your head up to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

"So have I," You admit with a soft chuckle. "Kinda wish we could have done that instead of you making me do squats."

"But you're ass looked good." Bucky teases, chuckling when you glare at him.

"So you were checking me out!" You smack at his bicep playfully and that earns you one of his boyish smiles.

"So? Besides, more importantly," His hands grasp your hips tightly, forcing you to be still. "Today's a cheat day and I wanna take you out."

"Take me out? At 11pm? What's even open?" You smile up at him and he only shrugs.

"Okay, fine, twist my arm. Breakfast it is." He kisses you again, this time lingering a moment before smirking deviously at you. "But first let's get you cleaned up."