#sorry for the rant i just can’t believe my eyes!! it’s crazy!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

haetrack · 8 months ago

Text

study buddies

haechan x f!reader (ft. doyoung)

wc: 5.6k

warnings: sex mentions, dry humping (MDNI), nothing too graphic, haechan makes a bet against doyoung over you

this is a continuation of me and @hrts4doie nerd!haechan, read part one and part two if you would like! this is the first part, @hrts4doie will post the second part on their account, read here!

“i can’t believe that you haven’t even studied for this test.”

“well, i’ve been busy.”

doyoung rolls his eyes, scrolling through a powerpoint he swears he’s seen a hundred times already. “busy with your new girlfriend? can’t believe she actually asked you out.”

haechan lets out a sarcastic laugh, “you’re so jealous of me, it’s crazy…”

doyoung scoffs, shoving his face closer to his laptop, ignoring the proud smirk on haechan’s face.

haechan never expected to talk to you, never expected to sleep with you, and most definitely didn’t expect for you to to ask him out. he’s always kept to himself, making few friends, like doyoung, from group projects. he didn’t mind his social life, never really care for being alone. but with you by his side, he realized that he could never go back to how he was.

even before he had sex with you, he always found himself staring at you. all he had with you was one shared class, which he was so sure you didn’t even know he was in. you always looked so good, and it was his lucky day when you asked to be in a group with him. when the project was done, he thought you would never talk to him again.

except, you did. you kept up with him, listened to him rambling on about whatever video game, listened when he ranted about a class. you listened when he accidentally confessed that he thinks you’re attractive.

he had immediately taken his words back, to which all you did was laugh. you “accidentally” confessed that you thought he was cute, too. he remembers how the air in the room shifted, how your eyes glanced to his lips, moving to slide the glasses off his face. you pulled yourself into his lap, his fingers twitching at his side.

he suddenly hears doyoung calling out to him, followed by doyoung’s hand shoved in his face, snapping to get his attention. haechan blushes, realizing that he got too caught up in his thoughts, thoughts of you sitting so prettily on top of him. he quickly looks up to find an unimpressed look on doyoung’s face, “i called you here to study, not to daydream.”

“i, uh, i’m sorry,” haechan says, batting his eyelashes, “just remembered how boring you are.”

doyoung, already used to haechan’s teasing, can only huff in response, “you do realize that we’re studying for a midterm. a midterm. this is serious.”

“if you’re still sad about your breakup, feel free to talk to me anytime. now i’m the relationship expert!” haechan smirks, clearly showing off.

“how did you even get with someone like your girlfriend? does she like nerds like you or something?”

“hey! i have appeal, i’m not just some random nerd!”

“yeah, well i just know you’re into some weird stuff,” doyoung says, finally closing his laptop, “you’d probably like it if she pushed you around.”

haechan shifts in his seat, trying to ignore the image of you on top of him forming in his head. “w-whatever!” haechan splutters, “at least i have a girlfriend and i’m probably still going to do better on this exam than you will!”

doyoung has to stop himself from laughing out loud at haechan’s offhanded admission of being pushed around in bed. doyoung clears his throat before speaking, “well who’s the one who’s been studying and who’s the one who’s been getting fucked by their girlfriend?”

“i’m smarter, anyway! you’re acting like you wouldn’t beg to fuck my girlfriend, either!”

doyoung looks at haechan in shock, quickly trying to form a coherent sentence to get back at haechan, “we both know that i could fuck her better, don’t lie.”

a pout quickly forms on haechan’s face, “don’t think about fucking my girlfriend!”

“you literally just said that i would beg to have sex with her,” doyoung falters, “you know what, i don’t want to talk about this in a public library.”

haechan is silent as doyoung slips his laptop into his backpack. doyoung sees haechan bite the inside of his cheek in thought, probably thinking of a nice apology for his friend. once he’s packed everything away, he realizes that haechan is staring at him, his hands pressed onto the table.

“if you score higher than me on this test, i’ll let you fuck my girlfriend.”

okay, so maybe not a nice apology.

doyoung doesn’t really know what to say, doesn’t know how to react, and he doesn’t even know how he’s still making eye contact with haechan. his mouth opens and shuts, haechan still staring at him. doyoung manages to speak, “what… what?”

haechan doesn’t flinch at doyoung’s shock, “i said, if you do better than me on the midterm, i will let you have sex with my girlfriend.”

doyoung’s face is pulled into a frown when he realizes what haechan says this time. he has to stop himself from yelling into haechan’s face, “literally where did that come from?”

haechan just shrugs and pushes up his glasses with his finger, “i just know i’ll do better than you on the exam, and i kinda just want to show off.”

“in what world do you have to make a bet like that just to say you’re better than me? just, i don’t know, say you’ll do good?”

“but where’s the fun in that? and plus, it’s not like i’ll lose.”

“and if i win?” doyoung challenges.

haechan whines and shoves doyoung’s shoulder, “you won’t.”

doyoung sighs, suddenly too tired and wanting to go home. haechan exhausts him, and tonight proves that. haechan just laughs and shoves his stuff into his backpack, standing up and looking down at doyoung. doyoung glares at him, standing up just to intimidate him a little. “lets just go already, you’re stressing me out.”

haechan just smiles and laughs, ushering doyoung out of the library. doyoung walks with haechan to the bus stop, to where haechan will eventually go to your place to be with you. doyoung isn’t jealous, but he does miss being around someone that he likes. maybe he’ll try studying on his own for this exam.

doyoung eyes haechan while walking with him, acting as if nothing even happened. he’s harping about some random game event, almost too casually. doyoung tries not to think about you, but he can’t help but think you are pretty. he’s seen you around campus, he’s seen you more with haechan. he can’t help but stare sometimes.

it doesn’t help that doyoung did go through a breakup, his ex saying that they should both move on. doyoung bites down on his lip, trying not to think too much about it. he should focus on his grades, focus on his studying, focus on this bet. the worst that could happen is losing. the best thing that could happen is the possibility of good sex.

while they’re both waiting for haechan’s bus, doyoung raises the question, “is your girlfriend even okay with this?”

“well, it was a spur of the moment kind of thing, so… i’m not sure yet,” haechan laughs into the quiet air.

once again, doyoung is rendered speechless by haechan, “how do you even know that she’ll agree to this?”

haechan spots his bus rolling down the street, “she’ll say yes. and like i said, you’re definitely not winning.”

doyoung shoves haechan, sending him off to his bus as haechan laughs loudly. before haechan boards, he turns to look at doyoung dead in the eye, “i’ll see you on exam day. good night.”

doyoung nods, bidding him farewell. he goes his own way, hands shoved into his jacket pockets as he’s lost in thought. he will do better than haechan.

haechan finally makes it to your apartment. the bus ride felt too long, and it feels like it’s been years since he’s seen you. you’ve both been busy with your own exams. haechan used to not mind exam weeks, but now that he has you, it pains him to be away from you for so long.

he had tried studying with you, but it always ended up with haechan being too needy to focus. he can’t study by himself either, always disrupted by the thought of you fucking him. he’d send you a quick text, and you always agree to let him come over. it eventually turned into you scolding him, telling him he needs to find someone to study with him.

of course, it had to be doyoung.

he texts you that he’s at your place, making his way to your apartment door. he knocks, waits a bit, and is then greeted by the sight of you. you look tired, but he can’t help but still find you pretty given the circumstances. you smile at him, pulling him into a quick kiss, grabbing his hand to bring him inside.

he’s brought to your bedroom, watches as you plop yourself into bed. you turn to him, cocking your head to the side as you ask, “how was it with doyoung?”

he opens the separate drawer you made for his stuff at your apartment, pulling out some house clothes so he can lay down with you. he pulls off his shirt, hears how you whistle at him, and he immediately gets shy. he shushes you, “it went fine, we studied for most of it, and then we just kept on talking at the end.”

“that’s good,” you hum, watching him shimmy out of his pants with a smile on your face, “what did you guys talk about?”

he crawls into bed with you, caging you in his arms, legs intertwined with yours. after officially dating haechan, you realized how touchy he is. it’s cute considering how he’s still shy, not seemingly thinking too hard about the skinship he offers you. he nuzzles his face into your shoulder, “he was just telling me about his ex, everything that happened.”

you, not one to miss out on gossip, gasp as you pull yourself away to look at him properly. “please tell me you’re gonna talk about his drama. please.”

he laughs a little, moves to lean on his shoulder as he begins, “it’s been maybe, four months since he’s gotten broken up with?” he then leans in to whisper in your ear as if there’s other people around you, “but do you know what?”

you lean into him, whispering back, “what is it?”

“he still goes to see his ex. i don’t know if they’re still friends or they’re just…” he clears his throat, “having sex, but they still meet up.”

you gasp, eyes widening as you laugh at his words. doyoung doesn’t really seem like the type to do that, so knowing he might be just that desperate makes you giddy. “poor doyoung,” you start, threading your fingers into haechan’s hair, “i hope things get better for him.”

he’s not exactly listening, the feelings of your fingers in his hair making his eyes flutter shut, a natural pout forming on his face. you kiss him, and before haechan can pull you any closer, you pull away. you look at him expectantly, waiting for a response as he tries to remember what you said.

“um, speaking of which, there was something else we talked about.”

you curl into his side, eyes closing as you hum in response. he shifts a little, an arm wrapping around your waist. you’re waiting for him to talk, but you get no response. you call out his name, and he grips onto you. “is there something wrong?” you ask, a little worried.

“no, well, me and him have an exam coming up, and we kinda… made a bet on it.”

“yeah, what about?”

“so, i kinda said, if scores better than me, i’d let him…” his words trail off, mumbled out into your room. you move away from him to try to see what exactly has gotten into him. you’re surprised when you see his cheeks flushed red, teeth biting down on his bottom lip as he looks away from you. you raise your eyebrows, encouraging him to continue.

he takes a deep breath before he lets out his words all in one go, “i said if he scored better than me i’d let him have sex with you.”

you blink at him. once. twice. you can’t really say you don’t expect this coming from him but… still. rather than the actual bet, it dawns on you that he might talk about you more than you expect. you wonder if he talks about your sex life. you wonder if he says that he takes control in the bedroom.

“how… how did you even come up with that?”

haechan dryly laughs, “doyoung said the exact same thing. i just felt bad for him? and he kept on complaining how i wasn’t studying, but i’ve been busy!”

“and what made you think i would say yes?” you laugh at his outburst, and haechan relaxes a little at your comfort.

he continues, “i wouldn’t have made the bet if i knew i wasn’t gonna do better than him! i know i’m better, this bet is just gonna prove that.”

a small smirk appears on your face, “i like seeing you all confident like this,” you roll him onto his back, moving on top of him. his hair is splayed behind him, his glasses crooked on his face. “of course my baby is smart,” your lips are dangerously close to his, “are you gonna show me how smart you are?”

he nods, eyes losing focus at your proximity. you lean in to kiss him, his hands grabbing your ass, groping at the flesh. you can feel his dick twitch against your thigh, you can feel how fast he runs out of breath. you realize it’s been awhile since you’ve seen each other, and his desperate movements prove that.

you’re no different either, you can feel how wet your panties are as you grind against him. his hands push you against him, making you grind down onto his cock as he whines into your mouth. your hands make their way to his hair, slightly tugging at the strands as he bucks his hips into yours.

the room is filled with the sound of your lips against his, his loud whimpers, and your soft breaths. moans of your name are ushered out when he gets close, his hands touching every part of you that he can reach. “needed this so bad,” he whines, “been needing you since i’ve been at the library…”

“yeah? thinking gross thoughts in public, in front of your friend?” he frantically nods, arms wrapping around you to pull you close. he can feel the heat on his face, so sure his glasses are embarrassingly fogged up, begging you to continue.

your lips move to his neck, feeling your warm breath on his skin as you speak, “probably why you made the bet, right? you were thinking about me too much, hm?”

your words trigger his orgasm, cum spurting into his boxers as he lets out a whimper of your name. at the sight of your boyfriend falling apart under you, looking fucked out from just some humping and kisses, you cum. haechan moves your hips, helping you ride out your orgasm as he fights off getting hard again.

it’s quiet in the room again, save for the heavy breaths you both let out. haechan’s hand soothingly traces patterns on your exposed skin. your head lays on his chest, nuzzling close to him.

a few moments pass before you whisper out, “i’ll do the bet.”

he opens his eyes to look at you, “really? you don’t have to, i’ll tell doyoung that-”

“no, it’s okay, baby. i know you’ll do good. after all, you’re my little nerd, right?”

haechan doesn’t argue when you call him your nerd.

a few days pass without interruption.

doyoung doesn’t try calling haechan to study, and haechan blasts music in his ears to avoid any thoughts of you crawling into his mind (not that he would mind, but the bet is putting everything on the line). at any chance, haechan goes to see you, seeking praise for being such a good student. he blushes when you do, pulling you into a kiss.

haechan doesn’t try too hard at studying, considering that it was half of his argument saying he didn’t need to study to be good. he’s making sure it won’t backfire on him, glossing over terms and dates as he studies. he tries once more to study with you in a call and repeat way. it’s ruined when you call him a good boy, haechan not being able to stop his cock from twitching.

it’s the day before the exam, and haechan texts doyoung to see if he’d like to meet up.

doyoung: i don’t think you distracting me is going to help

haechan: why are u trying so hard to fuck my girlfriend

doyoung: ?

haechan gives up on him.

there’s no study guide for him to go over, all he can do is go over his notes once more. he considers calling you, but you're either busy, or he’ll just end up getting distracted. he doesn’t think it’s a bad thing with the amount of time he spends with you. he likes it, likes you, he’d rather you take up all his time than him being holed up in his dorm.

he spends the rest of his afternoon at the library, multiple tabs open on his laptop for different classes. he almost forgot about the other exams he has to take, too caught up in his one shared class with doyoung. this bet, he thinks, could be the best decision of his life.

haechan, fully confident that he will win, thinks about what he can do. he’s obviously going to ask if he can have sex with you, but he might have to beg to be more in control. he might send doyoung a quick picture of you under him, crying out for him to fuck you. he doesn’t want to show you off or anything, but he does want to gloat. just a little.

he’s happy that you agreed to do the bet in the first place. you’ve always indulged in his little fantasies, and this is another one added to the list. it makes haechan’s heart beat faster knowing he’s the only one that can make you feel good. it doesn’t matter if he’s not in control, doesn’t matter if he’s the one begging, you’re the one calling his name every night.

which is why he made the bet in the first place. doyoung can complain all he wants, can think about you at any time, but you’re his. haechan tries not to be too possessive of you, but it’s hard not to when he’s so obsessed with you. he was made for you, made to be your boyfriend.

his thoughts are interrupted by a text from you, asking where he is. a small smile forms on his face, fingers tapping against the screen to let you know what he’s doing.

you: if ur not busyyy, then u can come over if u want

haechie: literally just yelled yipee in the library

haechie: packing up my stuff as we speak

you: ur so silly

you: see u soon baby

haechan tries to fight the blush from forming on his face, hastily pushing up his glasses as he rushes out of the library. even if there might be a bet going on, he’d much rather be with you, keeping you close as you press kisses to his skin.

you wait for haechan to text you that he’s outside. you haven’t really done anything today, except for study and taking multiple naps. exam season has always been hard for you, taking up so much of your time when you could be spending it with your boyfriend.

you find it funny how easy it is for him. he always looked like he knew what he was doing, and it was only confirmed once you worked on a project with him. you remember him shyly saying that he’d tell you all his studying secrets, trying to ignore how your eyes focus on his fingers writing something down.

his advice did help, but you still struggle like every person. haechan is just too smart for his own good. it only makes you prouder as his girlfriend.

you get a text saying that he’s at your place, and a knock is followed soon after. you trot to the door, opening it up to see his bright smile. he whines out before he wraps his arms around you, his head falling onto your shoulder as he breathes in your scent. you laugh at him, reciprocating his hug as he buries his face into you.

“you don’t know how much i missed you, it’s been forever.”

“you always say that. come on you big baby, let’s go lay down.”

he follows you into your room, his hand intertwined with yours. he can’t stand not being able to touch you when you’re so close.

when he sees you lay down, looking so comfortable, he practically rips his outside clothes to the clothes he has with you. he quickly scrambles to your bed, joining you in the comfort of your bed. he presses you against himself, silently begging for you to spoon him. you sigh out a laugh, wrapping your arms around him.

you can feel him relax at your touch, shoulders untensing, eyes shutting in the quiet of your room. one of your hands move to his hair, messing with the overgrown strands at the nape of his neck. he shudders slightly, pressing his face in the pillow as he gets more comfortable.

“how was today, baby?”

he mumbles out, “was fine… all i did was study.”

“me too, i think my professors must hate me or something.”

he lets out an airy laugh, grabbing the hand that’s not in his hair to press a kiss onto it. you press a kiss to the top of his head in return, hearing the satisfied hum he lets out at the feeling. if you could, you would want to stay like this forever, him in your arms. you just wish you both weren’t so busy.

“what are you gonna do tomorrow?” you ask.

“i have that exam with doyoung,” he groans, “i’m not worried, but i just need to get it over with already.”

“i know you’ll do good,” you say, watching a pink blush begin to form on his cheeks, “my baby always does so good.”

“thank you…” he whispers, embarrassment in his voice.

“don’t worry about the bet. in the end, it’s up to us, hm? even if doyoung wins-”

haechan cuts you off, “hey! he won’t!”

you laugh out, “i know he won’t, but on the small chance he might, you’ll show him how good you treat me, right?”

you can feel him squirm against you, trying not to let your words get to his head, “y-yeah, he needs to know how good i make you feel.”

“exactly,” you say as you press a kiss to his neck, feeling goosebumps form from your touch, “that’s what’s gonna make you do so good tomorrow.”

he nods, turning himself over to face you. his hands grip at your hips, eyes shining in the darkness of your room. he licks his lips, pulling you close to him as he kisses you. he moans into you, trying hard not to grind into your thigh.

it’s when you can feel him press his hard cock onto you that you pull away, smiling at the desperate look on his face. you shush him before he can whine, tucking yourself under the covers as haechan tries to form a coherent sentence.

“you have an exam tomorrow, you need to sleep early, baby.”

“but i-” he interjects, his eyes looking down at his cock that presses against his shorts, “you- can’t you help me?”

“nope! my baby needs all the rest he can get,” you smile, patting the space besides you, “now come lay down with me.”

he lets out a small groan, ignoring his twitching cock as he lays next to you.

“and no getting yourself off without me,” you assert.

haechan can only let out a whine.

it’s finally exam day.

after waking up, haechan finds you wrapped around him, cuddling up at his side. he stares at you sleeping (in the most non-creepy way, he swears), a smile on his face as he watches you sleep so peacefully. he likes having quiet mornings like this with you, wishes he could stay in bed with you all day.

except, your alarm for eight am rings, immediately waking you up.

haechan watches you groggily reach for your phone, shutting off the alarm, slamming it against the sheets when you do. he laughs at you, pull you in closer, kissing the top of your head as you snuggle yourself in his chest. he’s warm, almost making you doze back to sleep.

the sound of his voice wakes you up again, “do you think i should just skip my midterm?”

his voice is soft, yet serious as he contemplates sacrificing his grade if it means to get to stay in with you. your voice comes out muffled in his chest, “hm, you know i can’t let you do that, baby…”

he lets out a chuckle, the sound soothing you. “if i don’t get up now, i don’t think i’ll be able to move from here.”

you try to untangle yourself from his hold, but he’s the one who’s keeping you in place. you let out a whine of his name while he watches you with a smile. he eventually lets you go, making himself sit up alongside you. he reaches for your hand before speaking, “i wish i didn’t have to go.”

“i know, baby, but you have to take this test. you have to show everyone how good you are.”

he tries not to smile too hard at your words, choosing to slide out of your bed to stretch. he doesn’t miss the way your eyes stare at his exposed stomach from his shirt lifting. if he had the time, he’d ask for at least a makeout session, but even that might turn into something too much. he quickly changes into whatever clothes he can find, ridding the thought from his mind.

“anyways, you have a bet to do, right?” you remind him, “you’re going to show doyoung how smart my boyfriend is, hm?”

“of course,” he hums, “gonna show him what he’s missing out on.” he finishes his sentence with a soft kiss on your lips. it’s always nice like this, having him so close, no shyness detected when loving you. he chases your lips when you pull away, his pretty eyes looking to yours as you walk him out.

your both at your door, hands intertwined when you say to him, “i know you’re going to do great. don’t worry about anything, i’m right here.”

his eyes shine at your words, a faint blush on his cheeks as he turns to walk away from you. before he can fully step out, you softly call out his name. his head snaps towards you, expectant eyes waiting for you.

“one more thing,” you step out towards him. you place a quick kiss onto his lips, his hands twitching in surprise. “just a good luck kiss. if you do good, i’ll give you even more than that.”

he nods, forcing himself to walk away from your door. his hands are in fists at his sides, nails digging into his skin.

he can’t wait to see you again.

he makes it onto campus, calming himself down on the walk to his classroom. he hasn’t seen doyoung anywhere, not that he was thinking he would. it’s quiet on campus, everyone either taking an exam or stuck at the library studying.

he takes a deep breath as he enters the building, watching as other students enter his classroom. still no sight of doyoung as haechan heads towards class. he’s quick to open the door, scanning the room for his seat. he’s happy to see that no one’s taken his usual spot near the front of the class.

he does see doyoung in his spot next to him, scrolling through his phone as he waits for the exam to start. he easily slides in next to him, startling doyoung from his scrolling. he glares at haechan, haechan ignoring him as he clears his throat, “you’re here early.”

“i’m always early though?”

“feels like you might be excited about something.”

“like finishing this exam, yes.”

“or maybe the bet?”

doyoung scoffs, and as soon as he does, his professor begins to explain the rules. haechan drone out the words, shoving his phone away and taking out a pencil. it shouldn’t be hard, it should be easy for someone like him. what’s distracting is knowing that doyoung is thinking the exact same thing, the same goal in his mind.

having sex with you.

haechan won’t let it happen, though. before the professor starts handing out the exam, haechan turns towards doyoung. haechan extends a hand out to him, doyoung hesitantly shaking it back. haechan grins, “may the best student win.”

it’s been a few days since he’s taken the exam. he remembers feeling confident during the exam, remembers walking out of the class with a proud smile on his face. he remembers texting you right after, asking if you’d like to go out and eat anywhere. he remembers telling you how good the exam went over food, a proud smile on your face as you listen to him.

he only remembers being confident that day.

he’s only talked- texted doyoung once after the exam, only after their professor said when the grades will be released. it was a quick chat of haechan gloating while doyoung glosses over it. he doesn’t need to talk to doyoung too much anyway, knowing he’s just as busy as haechan is.

today, he’s at your apartment again, lounging around as he waits for his grade. you’re seated with him on your couch, legs on top of his as you mindlessly scroll through your phone. you’re done with your exams, he’s done with his. it went as good as it could’ve gone, and he’s happy with this exam week.

the cherry on top would be winning the bet, and even after the test, he’s sure that he’s won. he can’t help how his leg shakes under you in excitement, not really reading what’s on his phone as he thinks about what he wants to do. he bites his lip, trying to drown out his thoughts.

after what feels like forever (read: 30 minutes after), he gets an email from his professor saying that grades have now been posted and uploaded. he scrambles to his feet, scaring you in the process as your legs are thrown off the couch. he quickly apologies, his fingers tapping against his screen to check his gradebook. there it is.

he got a 95 on his midterm.

he turns to look at you, immediately squealing as he throws himself onto you. you laugh as you wrap your arms around him, his face nuzzling into your chest as he lets out high-pitched noises. you shake him a little, asking what he got on his exam.

he grabs you by the shoulders, pressing you into the couch as he looks down at you, “i got a 95.”

a smile forms on your face before you pull him down to kiss you. he’s smiling against your lips, a hand on your cheek as he kisses you. you can feel how happy he is, satisfied hums as he kisses you. your hands are around his neck, keeping him close to you. one of his thigh slips between yours, a hand resting on your hip as he continues.

he can feel you grind down onto his thigh, small whimpers coming out of your mouth as you do. his cock twitches at the feeling, adrenaline rushing through his body. you eventually pull away from him, catching your breath before you speak, “i am so proud of you. you worked so hard, i’m glad it all paid off.”

his eyes flutter shut when you palm over his bulge, “don’t you think you deserve a reward?”

he quickly nods, moaning out a yes as he moves to kiss you again. you’re both desperate, hands moving all over each other, feeling needy from how long it’s been since you had sex. you can feel his cock press into you, your hips rolling to meet his. his warm hands reach under your shirt, squeezing your hip when you moan out his name.

it’s not until he feels a buzz from his phone, followed by another as his mind clears. “h-hold on,” he says between kisses, “what if it’s doyoung?”

your head falls back, your hooded eyes peering up at him, “you’re gonna check your phone now, just to see if it’s doyoung?”

“i know, sorry. just really quick, i swear.” his phone turns on, a satisfied grin on his face as he sees the texts are from doyoung. doyoung’s asking what he got on his exam, and haechan quickly texts him his answer. haechan’s about to put his phone down to get back to you, but before he can, doyoung texts him back.

doyoung: that’s funny

doyoung: i got a 96

he sends a picture as proof, and haechan falls back on his heels. you watch as he stares at his phone in shock. he doesn’t move, and you softly call his name to get his attention. “what’s wrong?” you start, “what happened? is it doyoung?”

he slowly shows you his phone, watching as you quickly read the texts on his screen. your face falls in shock. you’re both sitting there in silence, shock painted across your faces. his phone eventually falls onto the couch, trying to think of what to say.

you choose to speak first, “well, i mean… you still did well on the test.”

“but he did better! by one point!”

your hand moves to soothingly pat his head, “we’re just gonna have to see what happens. he did say yes to the bet, right?”

haechan pouts, his head nuzzles against your hand, “yeah…”

“this could be fun for both of us. i get to show off how much of a good boy you are.”

he pouts even harder, “wanted to show him that i fuck you good.”

you laugh, “well, that wouldn’t be true, would it? i’ll make sure to show him how good i can fuck you.”

a/n: I AM SO HAPPY TO BE POSTING THIS WITH WINNIE!!! finally one of our ideas coming out of the drafts... i can't wait for their part to come out... its gonna be crazy... a threesome perhaps (in a way... u will just have to wait and see...)

#nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct fic #haechan smut #haechan fic #haechan scenarios #haechan x reader

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foreverisntenough · 4 months ago

Note

Y/N is so fiercely protective of Trent and I just know that when he comes back from matches where he either didn’t play or someone fouled him etc she’d go off on a tangent and Trent would be like trying to stop her. She’d be like “I can’t believe he didn’t get a foul or a yellow card and like everyone saw it and the ref did nothing the stupid ref and he’s so lucky I wasn’t there and-“ and Trent would be like “babe, breathe”.

Sorry got carried away, I just love your series so much 😭😅

I love this! This made me laugh. I feel like that’s their vibe as well. Y/N being in a panic and Trent being like ‘baby chill out.’

TYSM for sending!

--------- My tiny one shot below for you 🤍

‘Mighty Red’ - 1.2k words

↳ Y/N is fuming after the Liverpool Man City fixture but Trent doesn’t seem too pressed. *If your a city fan- probably don’t read lol

Other ForeverIsntEnough One Shots

---------

“Honestly though it just pisses me off because they get away with everything. That’s a fucking foul every time. Like I don’t understand what are we using VAR for at this point because it doesn’t seem to matter. It’s a card! He had you by the neck of your shirt. I would’ve hit him if I was you. What a fucking prick. I wanted to run down there and kick him in the balls like get the fuck off my man.” You rattled on in Trent’s car as he drove you home after a game at Anfield. The Liverpool City match had ended with a tie as its result and you were less than impressed.

“Wow tell me how you really feel.” Trent laughed a little as he flicked his eyes to the side towards you momentary as he drove on the M62. The lights from the motorway filled the car and splashed across your face. He couldn’t help but think you looked beautiful in your rage.

“I should’ve gone down to the pitch to yell at the ref frankly like he’s so stupid. Why are they all so dumb? It doesn’t bother you? Like this is fucking crazy. They are cheating, T. Blatantly cheating.” You yelped out continuing on with your rant. You were fuming after the matches result. There had been a incorrect (in your opinion) call from the referee that even went to VAR to be reviewed. A City player had dragged Trent down onto the pitch by the collar of his jersey after a trip and you thought it was insane the player got away unscathed, not even a card.

“I don’t know, baby. I mean what am I meant to do? I can do my 90 plus on the pitch but that’s the only difference I can really make. Only chance for impact.” Trent responded in a calm voice but with a smug smirk thinking your passion and fury at the moment was pretty funny and definitely cute.

“Well that’s shitty.” You huffed in response. You pulled your legs up onto your seat to sit in a ball, folding your arms around your knees and pulling them into you.

“Well that’s the way it is beautiful.” Trent told you and tapped at your knee telling you the get your feet, still in trainers off his car seat. He hated when anyone got his car remotely dirty and you were not exempt. No rage was going to be enough to allow that.

“I fucking hate them. Everything about that stupid club. You know what else is ridiculous? The dumb mascot, what even is that? Like what an absolute joke of a club.” Your brow furrowed as you dropped your legs back down but shuffled to turn to look at him driving, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Baby, I don’t even know what it is? Why do you even know?” He started to laugh at how ridiculous of a point you were making. You pulled your bent knee onto the seat to get comfortable again and as much as you tried to hold your expression of anger you couldn’t.

“Stop!” You began to giggle as well. “I don’t know why! Okay? But it’s fucking dumb. You know what’s not dumb? A bird. You know what is also dumb that stupid ref.” Your rationale for why you disagreed with tonight’s outcome was dismantling slowly but surely as you got closer and closer to your house. Your argument was crumbling referring to mascots, saying that Liverpool’s liver bird was far superior.

“Birds not dumb… noted. Refs… dumb. Duly noted.” Trent kept laughing at you, reaching over once more to pat your knee not with instruction but with confirmation to your words.

“T… you have to be fuming you’ve lost the league to them by a point before like this tie is bull shit.” You pleaded for some sort of emotion from him. You leaned forward resting your elbows on the center console holding your face in your hands looking up at him.

“Thank you for bringing up that very pleasant memory but I told you I can only play the game.” He responded and your lip rolled into a frown.

“You’re being too calm and it’s annoying.” You finally decided maybe you needed to give up because he clearly wasn’t going to get on the same page of vexation as you tonight.

“If I got riled up after each game I’d be exhausted and just upset. It’s a waste of my time, energy, and emotions. You know all this.” He cooed turning toward you a bit and a sympathetic smile. He picked up your chin with a free hand. He rubbed his thumb over your jawline gently waiting at the last stop light on the roads before you reached home.

“Boo! I don’t want to know about your mindful ways. You should be mad with me.” You huffed. You just wanted to vent with him and yell about how much you hated the opposition. You’d done it before but tonight, even in the confines of your car, Trent was choosing professionalism.

“Okay, pretty girl.” He cooed kissing your lips with a quick peck before turning back to focus on the winding roads leading into your neighborhood. You arrived eventually after falling more silent as Trent pulled down your drive. He parked and grabbed his bags ahead of coming around to the passager side. “To be clear baby… I know they are the fucking worst.” He whispered pulling you into a hug at the door of the car before heading in.

“I knew it! I knew you fucking hated them too. Like we should be yelling fuck City!” you eagerly and fairly giddily said to him. You stepped forward into him and he shut the car door behind you. “Fuck them!” You yelped out into the night wrapping your arms around his waist resting your chin on his chest tilting your head upwards childishly to look at him.

“Fuck ‘em!” He yelled louder then you with a smile as he swayed back and forth with you in his arms in the driveway.

“Fuck ‘em.” You echoed him in the same volume before you fell into a giggle.” He looked down at you with a love in his eyes and kissed your lips. “City honestly sucks!” You giggled in between kisses.

“I love you. You’re a very very funny, pretty girl. Thank you for coming tonight. You look beautiful as always.” He cooed softly standing in the quiet drive illuminated by the lights of the house.

“Thank you, T. Wanted to look good for my man that City players need to leave the fuck alone.” You whispered with some cheek in response, ghosting your lips over his.

“You succeeded and you know what? Tie tonight on the pitch… still winning going home with you off it.” He cooed a response that managed to make your heart flutter. “And you’re right, birds… not dumb. Mighty red. Love him.” He began to laugh, turning to walk into the house. You gasped before falling into giggles of your own chasing after him. He was giving you shit for know what the city mascot looked like when he knew the damn name of his.

⇨ Read other ForeverIsntEnough here!

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold imagines #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n

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boldlyvoid · 2 years ago

Text

Sweet Nothing

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Summary: Penelope made a friend on the internet over covid who just so happens to live in the same town Dr. Reid just got a new job... and playing Cupid is her favourite thing in the world

Warnings: strangers to lovers, meet cute, 40-year-old virgin Spencer, Virgin reader (late 20's/early 30's), picnics, food mention, lots of Taylor Swift references, first times, Spencer is on anti-depressants, oral sex fem receiving, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, sweet sex, lots of communication

Word Count: 12.6

Making friends on the internet was never easy… it always came with its own set of unique difficulties. People lie, anyone could be secretly crazy and when actions don’t really have consequences on the web, they can get crazier.

That being said, Y/N has recently made a wonderful friend in a woman named Penelope.

Penelope’s Tumblr page was pretty normal, very pink and vibrant and happy, but normal nonetheless. She’s in her early 40s, an internet veteran, an ex-employee at the FBI and known for creating a brand new, very safe, social media platform for young people. She was very easy to trust, very forward and easy to open up to as well, which made the two of them bond instantly.

And despite the age difference and the long distance, Y/N would consider Penelope to be her best friend.

She knew everything about her from her favourite colour to her hope and dreams and favourite singer… and also the fact she was a virgin well into her adult life and dying to get out there. They’ve spent most of their friendship discussing their equally awful dating lives, would-be lovers and almost hookups. Both women have tried time and time again to find love, however, nothing ever seemed to work out… until the day Penelope got an idea.

“I have a friend…” Penelope leads, something sinister in her eyes. “And he’s single and pretty cute, too…”

“Do you have a crush?” Y/N lights up thinking this is a happy moment for Penelope. “Oh my god, Penny tell me all about him!!”

“Well, no, actually… I want to set you up with him,” she explains further, in a much softer tone. “He’s so soft and sweet and a few years younger than me… and still a virgin.”

Her eyes grow impossibly wide and her jaw drops momentarily, “you’re kidding?”

“Nope.”

“Wow,” she takes a moment to soak it all in. She sits back in her chair and lets her shoulders drop as she thinks about it. And for once, Penelope is quiet too. “How much older than me is he?”

“He’s 41… which I know it’s a lot older than you but he’s what you’re looking for and you’d be so perfect for him. He’s so wonderful and he’s waited for so long to find someone who wouldn’t judge him and I know you’d love everything about him if I told you everything but I want you to meet him and find out for yourself… sorry, that was a lot.”

“No, no, that’s okay,” she actually loved when Penelope went on little rants like that. “I just don’t really have the funds to fly to Virginia right now—

“That’s another reason why he’s perfect for you, he’s moving to Reno next week!!!” Penelope can’t help but shake her hands with excitement while her voice raises at least a pitch if not 3.

“Is this the same friend who’s already from Nevada?” Her eyes light right up like a cat staring at a laser… she’s seen photos on Penelope’s personal Facebook, everything from selfies in new glasses to the parties with friends and throwbacks from working at the FBI… “doctor what’s-his-name?”

“Spencer, yeah oh my god? I can’t believe you remember him?” Penelope asks and she just shrugs, “See, this is why you’re perfect for Spencer, he talks a lot like I do, only about much smarter things but you’d be able to keep up.”

“I’d love that, actually,” she swoons, feeling slightly embarrassed about how the possibility of having a boyfriend makes her so giddy. “I’d love to listen to someone talk about what they love and just sit there and look at them…”

“Perfect, I tell you! Perfect!!” Penelope exaggerates, “he’s moving in a few days but all his things are already there. The department paid for his relocation and everything, I’m so surprised he actually decided to go this time, he’s been thinking about it forever.”

“Ask him if he wants some help unpacking when he does get here and I’d love to give him a hand,” she agrees fully, taking a leap of faith and seeing where this could go without the fear of the unknown weighing her down.

—

She shows up at Spencer's apartment 2 days after he arrives in Reno, a bottle of Welcome to the Neighbourhood sparkling cider and an assortment of muffins in her arms, thinking it would be quick and easy for him to take the muffins to work over the next few days, unlike a flower arrangement he didn’t need taking up space in his downsized apartment.

She takes a deep breath before she knocks, her knuckles are barely off the door when he opens it. She barely has a moment to prepare before she’s smacked with the realization that this man is very handsome and incredibly smart… and so, so intimidating.

“Hi,” he smiles at her. “Is that— you didn’t need to bring anything?”

She looks down at the basket she’s holding and then back up to see those beautiful brown eyes, “I know… sorry, um, Hi, welcome to the neighbourhood,” she hands him the basket with the best smile she can muster, slightly embarrassed to be so flustered by the mere sight of him.

“Thank you, come in,” he steps out of the doorway so she could walk in, he steps away from the door completely and sets the basket on a moving box. “Sorry, it’s a mess, the movers just put the boxes wherever they wanted, so I’ve been reorganizing where they were supposed to go,” Spencer explains, gesturing to the room around them.

“It’s okay, that’s why I’m here,” she’s cheery as she shuts the door and starts to take her coat off. “Can I just leave this over here?”

“Yeah, actually—“ he reaches for the closet door, “I found the box with hangers first so you could hang your coat when you got here.”

“She said you were a genius,” Y/N teases, holding her coat up so he could slip the hanger inside and hang it on the bar. She sets her purse down inside the closet too, just for safekeeping.

“I hope she hasn’t talked me up too much,” he’s honest with his fears. “I’m afraid I’m actually quite average, maybe tilted towards the strange side…”

She gives him another smile, but ultimately shakes her head, “Don’t worry, she didn’t tell me anything really personal. I only really know about you from stories she’s told me about her old job, but nothing in detail… I was just starting to get to know her when you were hospitalized before the pandemic and she was by your side a bunch so she wasn’t online and I was actually worried something happened to her 'cause she’s never that quiet.”

“Oh, yeah, that was awful,” he agrees, pressing his lips together awkwardly while he thinks about it. But then he takes a deep breath and his shoulders drop. “So I was thinking we could start in the kitchen? I’ve found most of the boxes.”

“Yeah, lead the way,” she says, following him through the front room to the living room that was connected to the kitchen by means of an archway. “Oh wow,” she muses aloud, “this is going to be nice to decorate…”

“You think?” He looks a mix of worried and confused, “I have no idea what to do with the place.”

“I’m sure once we start taking out all your things we’ll figure something out,” she knows she can make a room out of anything, it's how she decorates her classroom each September. Just with sheer will and pure hope.

“I had to downsize a lot to come here, I donated most of my books so I wouldn’t cost the department a fortune moving them out, but I still have a lot,” he shares, both proud and a little embarrassed that 50% of his boxes are for books. “I don’t have many personal things or decorations… I honestly wasn’t in my last place enough to make it feel homey.”

“You’ll be here often, though, right?” She asks, selfishly, she can already see them becoming somewhat good friends and she wants to be able to see him regularly.

He nods, “Yeah, I’m going to be working with the sex crimes unit, 9 to 5 every day unless there’s a big case,” he explains. “Like human trafficking or a pedophile ring or something, but I doubt I’ll see an overwhelming number of those right now, it’ll be nice to downsize to just a city instead of dealing with the entirety of The United States.”

“I have 4 different groups of teenagers that I teach, which is like 120 kids alone, I can’t imagine being principal and having a thousand kids to watch out for,” she can relate it back. “I’m sure this will be less stressful for you… still awful sometimes but—

“But I’m good with stress,” he assures her. “Especially this kind of stress. You know, when I first started at the BAU I had a co worker who transferred over from sex crimes in New York, she actually had a great time cause she got to kick some creeps ass every now and then.”

“Oh that’s cool, I guess,” she tries not to be jealous, knowing he’s probably had lots of meaningful relationships with women throughout his life, but that’s not going to stop him from getting to know her.

She grabs a box that says mugs and lifts it to the edge of the counter island instead of dwelling on these bubbling feelings for who is essentially, a stranger. “Which cupboard did you want the mugs to go in?”

“Uh,” he gets nervous then. “I have about 3 boxes of mugs… so wherever they fit?”

“Sounds good,” she can’t help but smile, it was cute. “Do you like to collect them or something?”

“Kinda,” he reaches into his pocket and takes out an exacto-knife, handing it to her so she can open the cardboard box. She pushes the knife out of its plastic sheath and starts to cut along the tape seam.

The first mug she pulls out is a pink octopus, “oh, this is so cute?”

“That’s Mildred,” he can’t help but smile, “I got that from Penelope on her last day at work.”

“Oh,” she holds it to her chest in a sweet hug. “I can’t wait for her to come and visit, I just know she gives amazing hugs.”

“Actually, she hugged me before I left and said that I was supposed to pass it along to you at some point…” he looks at her softly, slightly terrified. “Which is strange 'cause she knows I don’t like touching and we’ve never met before but for some reason, she knew I’d still want to hug you upon meeting you…”

She can’t help but laugh, placing the mug down on the counter, “is that an invitation?”

He nods, opening his arms and allowing her to step into his space. She wraps her arms around his middle and holds him close, feeling his large hands on her shoulder and upper back, his thumb lightly caressing the fabric of her shirt.

She stays there in the hug for a moment and then pulls back, “I’ll be sure to tell her that you passed that along.”

“Good,” he’s smiling like an idiot, bright red and flustered, falling head over heels for her already.

At least, the little voice in her head thinks so. Making her smile back at him with the same giddy hopefulness that she’s longed for most of her life.

—

He feels like the most awkward person in the whole fucking world. Hiding away in the living room to unbox something alone and give himself a moment of anxiety without having to play it cool in front of her any longer.

She’s pretty, she’s nice, she smells like honey and happiness and new beginnings… Penelope raved about her for days when she heard he was moving to Reno and now he can see why.

Y/N is amazing… it’s almost too good to be true.

She’s in his kitchen humming while she unpacks box after box of his dishes, moving around his new space like she was always meant to be here too. Like she’s a ghost or an extra piece of the pre-furnished listing. Like it was hers first.

He can’t quite place what song it is that she’s humming, but it’s nice. He wanders over to the archway and leans against it, watching her in admiration as she slides some more mugs to the back of a shelf. He knows he wants to ask her out for real. Not just as friends, not just for help or convenience but because his aura is drawn to hers and the colour they could make together has never been made before.

When she turns around to grab another mug she’s startled by his presence in the doorway, “gosh,” she gasps and places her hand on her chest to get over the initial shock. “What the heck, Spencer?”

“Sorry, it’s just…” he licks his lips and thinks it over before saying it, “It’s so nice to have you here… it feels right.”

“Oh,” she softens, he can see a weight lift off her shoulders and her eyes glimmer under the lights. “Thank you, thats the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me?”

“Would you want to go on a real date, tomorrow?” He can’t help but ask. “I know Penelope was hoping for us to date and I hate that she’s always right but, I would really like to go on a date with you.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” she makes her way around the counter and over to be closer to him. “I’d love that, what do you want to do?”

“Um,” he really didn’t think that far ahead… “can I surprise you?”

“Sure,” she gives him the sweetest, most hopeful smile that makes his heart swell.

“Is there anything you don’t like? Or are allergic to? Anything I should avoid?” He can’t help but ask. The last thing he wants is to surprise her with something that makes her distance herself from him. It’s happened too many times before.

She shakes her head, “not that I can think of?”

“Okay,” he smiles at her, stepping into her space more. “I found my Alexa that Penelope got me years ago, did you want me to put on that song you were humming?”

She looks like a dear in the headlights, she clearly forgot he could hear her when she was humming. “Oh, um… no? I don't think you’d like the song.”

“It sounded nice when you were humming?”

“It’s embarrassing…”

“What is it?”

She sighs and gives in, “Taylor Swift has this song that I listen to when I dream about the life I want and it’s been stuck in my head all day cause I’m in your kitchen… and the lyric is outside they’re pushing and shoving but you’re in the kitchen humming, all that you ever wanted from me was Sweet Nothing…”

“That’s not embarrassing,” his heart swells. “Penelope is a matchmaker, has she ever told you about all the couples she created at the FBI? She’s responsible for 5 marriages and by proxy about 10 babies.”

“Wow,” Y/N’s a bit taken aback by that. “So you’re saying she’s like Cupid?”

He nods, “Or she’s able to see fate's design a lot better than us.”

“One hug? That’s all it took?” She teases him.

“A few mugs?” He teases right back.

“Hey, you can tell a lot about a person by what they hoard,” she bites back, trying not to smile too hard.

He just shakes his head and backs up, headed back to the living room with her in tow. “Hey Alexa, what’s the Taylor Swift song that says you’re in the kitchen humming.”

“That would be Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Midnights By Taylor Swift, released October—“ the British man's voice comes booming from the small speaker only to be cut off.

“Hey Alexa play Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift,” he orders with a smirk plastered to his face.

“Okay, here’s Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Amazon Music.”

Within the first few notes, he knows this is going to be their song. He extends his hand to her, silently asking her to dance even though he doesn’t really know how… and by design or some exquisite happenstance, she takes it.

With one hand in hers, his other hand lands on her hip while her extra hand is placed ever so gently on his shoulder. Chest to chest, eye to eye, they smile and sway along to the flow of the tune. Her hand squeezes around his own slightly tighter, the tune matches exactly how she was humming in his own kitchen and then he hears the lyric she mentioned.

They said the end is coming,

Everyone's up to something,

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings.

Outside, they're push and shoving,

You're in the kitchen humming,

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing.

He spins her around making her laugh as she crashes back into his chest and holds him tighter. She wraps her arm around his middle and rests her chin on his shoulder. The music is loud, but his thoughts are louder. He wants everything this song mentions but with her. Only her. And it’s been only an hour and a bit that he’s known her. He doesn’t even really know her but he craves to.

“Do you write poems?” He asks after the song mentions them.

She shakes her head, “no, but I know you read a lot of them… do you write them too?”

He nods, “Sometimes… maybe I’ll make you one.”

“I’ll probably cry,” she admits.

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors

And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other

And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"

To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

She is soft-hearted. She’s sweet and kind and wonderful, too. She tilts her head to the side to rest against his own. Now cheek to cheek, he lets out a deep breath he didn’t even know he was holding. She hums along to the song, just soft enough for him to hear, not quite on key, but it’s endearing.

They’re quiet for the rest of the song and keep swaying, knowing it’s going to end soon and they’re going to have to pull away. They don’t want to… luckily the song is on a loop. It starts right back up and so they don’t pull away.

—

His place is still a mess when he gets ready to leave the next morning. After their dance, she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus on unpacking and he knew he’d be too tempted to hold her all night long… so she went home. He helped her into her coat, he hugged her goodbye and she left, taking a piece of his heart with her.

He’s not as used to Reno as he was with DC, but one look at the map and he was able to find the grocery store quite easily. He walks there because he opted not to bring his shitty car with him. He sold it with the promise of looking for a new one here in Nevada, but it was actually a lot nicer to walk in a sunny place like this. And on days when it’s not as nice, taxis exist for a reason. He really didn’t need a car, anymore.

He didn’t realize how much he missed Nevada until now.

He spent a lot of last night thinking about what he wanted to do for their date and came up with the splendid idea of a picnic. The first thing he did was call Penelope, it wasn’t too late for her back in DC, so he didn’t feel too bad, but he had to ask her some questions. He wanted everything to be perfect. She talked his ear off and then gave him an extensive list of the things she knows Y/N likes from past conversations, it turns out they’ve spent a bit of time talking about snack foods and it was finally coming in handy.

He comes back to his newly unpacked kitchen with bags of groceries, he prepares sandwiches on croissants and cuts up cheese and puts them on toothpicks with fancy slivers of meat… and he bought some new Tupperware so the meats and cheese can be in one and the fruit he bought can be in another. He bought her favourite drinks and some cute disposable cups to put them in because he didn’t have anything other than coffee mugs, which he was sure she wouldn’t mind, but he did.

He wanted this to be perfect for her.

All while he was packing their picnic basket, he listened to Taylor’s music, thanks to Penelope he had a playlist of her favourites to get himself caught up on them and ended up liking most of them himself. Especially one called Maroon. The lyrics are so powerfully written and wondrously sung, it’s as if a heart-stopping novel was put to music and all told within 3 minutes and 38 seconds. Taylor Swift is a genius, that much her lover got right in sweet nothing. What a mind, indeed.

Just a little past her apartment, there is a little park with a lovely field of flowers beside it. It’s a perfect spot for a picnic, so once he’s finished packing their picnic, he sets off on a walk to her apartment, thinking a walk to the park together would only add to the ambiance of the day.

He makes it to her place a little before 11, like he told her he would, and spends a few seconds in the hallway to catch his breath and fix his hair before he knocks. And when he does knock, it’s 3 times and he hits the wood pretty hard with his knuckles. Inside, it’s pretty quiet and then he hears her call out, “Just a sec!!”

He waits patiently for a minute or two and then she wipes the door open while putting in an earring, “Sorry, I didn’t realize what time it was.”

She’s breathtaking. She’s all dolled up and it’s all for him. He can’t believe it.

“That’s okay,” he manages to breathe out, leaving his mouth hung open as he stares.

She just smirks and reaches out for him, touching his chin and redirecting his jaw closed. “You don’t want to catch flies…”

He blushes, uncontrollably, and bows his head, bashful as ever. “Sorry, you just look beautiful… I’m not used to someone getting all dolled up for me.”

She lets out a huff of breath through her nose, settling all her nerves, her shoulders drop and she stares at him like he’s the only man in the whole world. “You’re so sweet, I almost can’t believe you’re real.”

“That feeling is mutual,” he assures her.

She finally looks down at his hands to see him holding a picnic basket. “Oh my god, are we going to have a picnic?” She lights right up.

He nods, “is that okay?”

“Okay? It’s perfect, Spencer!” She’s so excited and it’s real. She’s not playing it up or anything. She’s genuinely over the moon. “Let me just put on my shoes and grab my purse, you can wait in here.”

“Okay,” he steps inside and closes the door behind himself as she runs off into he bedroom.

It’s a small apartment. Her bedroom and bathroom are separate rooms, but the kitchen, living room and the washer and dryer are all exposed. She has it set up really nicely, it’s warm and inviting and happy and he could see himself making a home on her couch in the upcoming weeks of getting to know her. He couldn’t wait to learn about her favourite shows and movies and books. He wanted to hear all about her family and friends and co-workers, even her favourite students and the ones who irked her. He wanted to hear about it all. He wants to know her favourite colour and how she likes her pizza and her pasta and what her favourite baked good is. There’s an endless amount of personal things that he can learn, and he wants to know it all. He wants to love it all, too.

When she returns, she has her shoes on, her purse over her shoulder and a blanket draped over her forearm. “I don’t want to sit on the grass, and I didn’t think you fit a blanket in there…”

“Oh, shoot,” he looks down at the basket and realizes that was the one thing he forgot. “Yeah, we’re going to need that.”

“Thought so,” she smirks. She walks back over to the door and grabs her keys, “anything else you need?”

“Just you,” he replies without thinking it over.

“Stop being so sweet,” she nudges him, staring up at him like he hung the stars, himself.

“Or else?” He teases. It’s remarkable how easy it is with her. It just flows out of him like the script was already written between them.

She steps even closer into his space, “you get a kiss for every compliment,” she says, standing on her tip-toes, she presses her lips to his cheek for 1, 2, 3 seconds of pure bliss.

She drops back down to her normal height, a smirk plastered to her face, proud of the lipstick stain that’s almost as red as his blushing cheek. She reaches up to wipe it off but he pulls back, “don’t…” he’s adamant. “I want everyone to know you’re mine if you’re going out looking this beautiful beside me.”

“Okay then.”

—

Like a real man, Spencer insists on standing closer to the road as they walk along the sidewalk. A few moments into their walk, he transitions the basket to his right side so that his hand that’s closest to her is free and she notices it right away. She has draped the blanket over her left arm, leaving her right hand free… all but begging him to take it. But he’s shy and quiet and he doesn’t know how to just do it.

So she does.

She takes his hand in hers and interlocks their fingers, smiling up at him as they keep going forward, “have you ever been to this park?”

He shakes his head, “No… is it nice? The reviews online said it’s clean and there isn’t a lot of illegal activity there.”

She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, it’s a nice park. Sometimes I hit up the bookstore down here and then I go read in the park. It’s nice in the summer when I have a week off between my regular job at the school and my summer job.”

“Summer job?”

She nods, “Mhm, you know, 'cause I only work at the high school when school is in session and I don’t make enough to take two whole months off so each summer I take a new job. Like last summer I worked at a daycare but the summer before that I was at a ladies' clothing store a few streets over.”

“What are you going to do this summer?” He asks, intrigued.

“I’m not sure yet… I’m still friends with some of the girls at the daycare so I might go back, but honestly, I’m also thinking of putting in my application for summer school and I might tutor some of the kids that need help graduating,” she explains. “Cause I know how hard it is to try your best and still just not get it. They shouldn’t be punished for having a hard time.”

“You sound like a wonderful teacher, I’m sure they’d really like to have you in the summer, too,” Spencer compliments. “I was always closest to the kids that didn’t do very well in school. It’s not that I pitted them or felt like I could improve them, I just liked who they were as people, more.”

“They’re lovely kids, they just get pushed to the side because they either learn differently or they can’t do the work at home for whatever reason. And they shouldn’t be punished for that, it’s not their fault that most kids nowadays have to work to help their families or become a second parent to help their younger siblings. They barely have the time to take care of themselves let alone do 5 hours of homework a night,” she rants, “I genuinely hate how the school system is currently.”

“My nephew is in high school currently and he isn’t having the best time,” Spencer shares. “He calls me for help on his math homework sometimes and it always floors me that even if he got to the right answer, if he didn’t follow the exact formula that the teacher uses then he gets a 0. There are many different ways to solve an equation, and as long as he shows his work it should count.”

“Exactly!” She raises her voice a little and startles a lady passing them. “It’s frustrating to watch them struggle with shit they’ll never use again unless they’re going into a math-dominated field. It’s not fair.”

“More kids need a teacher like you,” Spencer says, giving her hand a little squeeze.

“Why, thank you,” she gleams. “If we weren’t in the middle of the walkway I’d kiss you again…”

“The books store is just up here, you can kiss me in the aisles… if you really want to?” he kids, but not really. She can tell he wants another kiss from her.

So she drags him into the bookstore, they tell the worker that they’re just looking and perusing the store, calling out the titles they know and rating the backs of the ones that seem interesting until they’re in the back aisle. She turns to him with a smirk, “Are you gonna make me stand on my tip-toes every time, bean sprout?”

He smirks and places the picnic basket down on the floor so his hands are free, “I could just kiss you, instead, you know?”

“You wouldn’t be so bold?” She tempts, secretly hoping he will.

He tentatively reaches out, placing his beautifully soft hand on her cheek and caressing her skin with his thumb before he starts to lean in. She closes her eyes in anticipation, just mere seconds before their lips touch and like the big bang, universes were created in the pitch-black darkness behind her eyelids. Colours she’s never seen before, feelings she’s only read on pages that surround them, and a warmth in her chest that seems so foreign… yet so right.

He goes to pull away and she leans back in, dropping the blanket in the process to kiss him again and again until his tongue slips past her lips and it's more than just a kiss. It’s the start of something beautiful. Something more than Penelope ever thought possible when her two friends ended up in the same town at the same time.

They’re brought out of the moment by the sound of a woman clearing her throat, “You actually have to buy something you can’t just make out back here.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“I’m so sorry!”

The two of them rush out with equally guilty mugs. She grabs the first book she see’s, “We’ll take this.”

“I’ll meet you at the register,” the keeper replies rather snidely and over it as she walks away.

Looking down at the book, it’s a poetry book by an author she’s never heard of before. “You know this one?”

Spencer shakes his head, “surprisingly, no.”

She picks up the blanket again, he grabs the basket and the two of them slowly make their way towards the cash. “Sorry, again,” Y/N says, pressing her lips together awkwardly. “I don’t know where that came from, we really just wanted a book for our picnic.”

“I’ve been in love before, I get it,” she waves it off with a growing smile. “This is a good choice… it’s only 6 dollars as well.”

“I’ve got it,” Spencer steps forward, taking his wallet out of his pocket and handing the woman two 5 dollar bills. “Do you take tips or donations?”

“Always, it keeps the lights on,” she’s happy to take the extra money, exchanging one of the 5’s for 4 1’s and placing them in a jar behind the desk. “Thank you, I hope to see you back here sometime.”

“Definitely, I’d love to have a real look next time,” Spencer teases as Y/N takes the book. He places his hand on her back, “thank you.”

“Have a good rest of your day,” she adds for good measure, following Spencer towards the door.

“You too! And enjoy your picnic!” The lady calls back just before they leave.

“God,” Y/N scolds herself, “I can’t believe that happened.”

“Spencer just laughs, “It’s not that embarrassing… believe me, I’ve walked in on much worse.”

“I can imagine, I mean, Penelope told me about some of your cases,” she says with the roll of her eyes. “I really don’t know how you did it for so long.”

“Honestly, me either,” he agrees with her there. “How much do you know about me? Because she never told me much about you and I’m worried we’re not on even playing grounds…”

“Oh, not much!” She tries to sound as believable as possible. “She basically told me you’re a genius, she loves you like a little brother and some little anecdotes like you were shot in the knee once and were on crutches for months and you wear a lot of purple which I’ve also seen in the Facebook photos she has of you… but nothing super personal.”

“Okay, that’s good then… cause she’s seen me at my worst,” Spencer admits as they make their way toward the park entrance

“She was basically big brother to you guys,” Y/N teases.

Spencer manages to laugh, “Yeah, she was.”

The gates to the park are open, there are children running about cheering with one another while their parents sit on the benches and talk, barely watching on. They pass everyone and head right back to the grassy area behind the playground, past the soccer fields and take cover under a baby Willow tree that still has lots of growing left to do, however, she’s still big enough to cast a good amount of shade on them.

She lays out the blanket perfectly and takes a seat while Spencer gets down on his knees, placing the picnic basket in front of himself. All while they’re still talking about Penelope. He takes out two plastic champagne flutes and hands them to her first, then he sets out the bubbly drink he got, followed by 4 Tupperware containers. “Speaking of which, I called her last night and she told me about your favourite snacks…”

“No way?” She can’t believe it.

He simply nods, a smirk growing, “It would seem you two love food.”

“Well, it’s always late when we call so she’s seen a lot of my nightly snacks,” She admits. “Is that? No way…” She takes one of the containers and opens it up to find little croissant sandwiches. “You want me to fall in love with you? Don’t you?”

He’s startled to hear it and she can’t believe she said it. It was forward and real and incredibly honest. But Spencer nods. Of course, he nods. “Yeah, I do.”

She looks at him like that 'I do' was the big one. The most important one. And to her, it’s almost more important. “Really?”

“I’ve spent most of my life completely alone, I’m tired… and I’m not settling, not at all, no,” he stutters out and worries he’s offended her. “I just mean, I like you, you’re wonderful already and everything I look for in a person and if you loved me I’d be the luckiest man in the world.”

“Wow,” she can’t believe it.

“Sorry—

“No, no,” she reaches out, dropping the container so she could touch his knee instead, “don’t, I’m just shocked, really…”

“Really?”

She nods, “Yeah, not many people have just openly told me that they like me let alone want me to love them?”

“Me either,” Spencer admits. He’s ready to lay his whole heart bare to her. “I really want someone to love me and if that someone was you then I could die happy.”

“Not on my watch,” she manages to smile. “My love means taking care of you. My love includes worrying and obsessing and making you entirely mine… it’s driven people away before we could even start anything real, I don’t want that to happen here.”

“It won’t,” Spencer is quick to reply. “It can’t drive me away, it’s exactly what I want… and I want to love you just the same.”

“You won’t have to try hard,” she teases, smiling up at him. “Come on, get comfortable, grab a sandwich and talk to me. Tell me about yourself and watch it happen.”

“Okay,” he follows her instructions.

He gets comfortable on the blanket, taking off his shoes so he can sit crisscross applesauce and he pours them each a glass of sparkling cider. “I’m sober,” he shares first. “I had some drug problems in my 20’s and I find if I avoid all substances, except coffee, then I won’t slip.”

“Wise man,” she compliments. “I don’t drink either, mostly cause drinking alone is sad and I don’t like how it makes me feel.”

“And I picked this pinky one cause of the line in Paris…” Spencer admits which makes her peak right up. “You know, fake wine makes believe it’s champagne…”

“Oh my god, you listened to Midnights?”

He nods, “I went back to listen to Sweet Nothing and thought why not?”

She can’t help but shake her head and smile, “That’s so cute, you have no idea how cool this is for me. No one I know really likes her, everyone acts too cool for Taylor Swift and then you come in and listen to her on your own accord? That’s— that’s everything to me, Spencer.”

“I think she’s amazing, well, so far, at least,” he admits. “I’ve only listened to the one album but it was a great album, I particularly enjoyed Maroon.”

“Her track 2’s are always my favourite,” Y/N raves. “She saves track 5 for her personal favourites or songs that mean the most to her, like on Red there’s this one called All Too Well and it’s originally 5 minutes but on the new recording of Red it’s 10 minutes and it’s so good. It’s insanely beautiful.”

“I can’t wait to listen to it,” he can’t help but smile. “I love listening to you talk about her, you glow.”

“Here,” she pulls out her phone and headphones from her purse and plugs them in. “We can listen to it now if you want?”

“Okay,” he agrees, taking an earbud and placing it in his ear while she moves closer to share the other.

And for 10 minutes they sit there in silence, she eats her sandwich and he listens to the words with the most admiration. The hurt is palpable, the passion is gut-wrenching… he loves it and she can tell from the look on his face. He’s so focused and enthralled. She feels a warmth in her chest that she hasn’t felt before, something in this moment is what makes her really love him. She isn’t just infatuated, he isn’t just cute and nice… he’s special.

“That was amazing—

“I never want to feel like that,” she whispers, staring at him intently. “don’t break my heart, please.”

“I don’t plan to?”

She lets out a deep breath she didn’t mean to hold, “I’ve never dated anyone before because I can’t go through the heartache. She made it seem so fucking awful I never want to feel it.”

“It’s awful,” he admits, all the hurt he’s experienced comes forth, pooling behind his eyes as tears form. “I was in love only once. She died before I could tell her.”

“Oh, Spencer, I’m so sorry,” she can’t believe it. “When?”

“In 2013.”

“Have you been single for 10 years?”

He nods, “Basically. I tried to date before the pandemic but she wasn’t really my type, it was more convenient so it didn’t last.”

“Oh.”

“This isn’t like that,” he assures. “You’re kind and beautiful and you have a normal job and you make people's lives better… you’ve made Penelope’s life better. You are sunshine—

“Do not call yourself midnight rain I will laugh,” she cuts him off, biting back a smirk.”

“I wasn’t,” he laughs too, “but it works here, too.”

“I’m not always sunny,” she adds, making sure he knows that.

“That’s okay,” he’s fine with it, really. “Even on gloomy days, the sun is just behind the clouds.”

She can’t believe he just said that. It’s so beautiful and kind and about her? It makes her just stare at him, mouth opening to say something but nothing comes out. She doesn’t know what to say. “Oh, man… I’m going to fall in love with you so quickly.”

“Me too,” Spencer smiles, reaching out to hold her hand. He grips it tight and doesn’t break eye contact with her, “and I’m excited about it.”

—

He only lives around the corner from her which means they see each other every day for the next week. They wake up at the same time, they get coffee before work, she drops him off at the police station and then she heads to the high school. After school, she goes and picks up something for dinner and he Ubers right to her apartment to eat. They talk well into the night, they listen to music, they watch documentaries and movies and they cuddle… she knows almost everything about him and he knows almost everything about her. He’s going to meet her family in the summer, hopefully, and she’s going to meet Diana in a few weeks.

Being together is the most fun she’s ever had in her entire life.

And while they’re not going on dates to get to know each other, they are dating and Penelope is happy about it for the most part. She’s just upset she lost her nightly chats with Y/N on Zoom. They barely even text now.

When Penny finally does get Y/N on the phone, however, it’s on a night that Spencer has an intense case in Reno. The BAU are back in town… 3 women have died this week, all online sex workers, they never walked the streets and yet that’s where they’ve ended up. It’s heartbreaking.

“I called him today during his break and he just sounded so defeated, it breaks my heart,” Y/N says with her hand over her chest and pleading eyes, “it’s too bad you’re not working with them again.”

“Their new tech guy is good,” Penelope assures her, “and he’s got JJ and Luke with him so he’s fine… he’s more than fine, he’s Spencer.”

She rolls her eyes playfully, “he is fine…”

“You guys really like each other?” Penelope digs, she wasn’t going to pry and press too many questions but she can’t help herself.

Y/N nods, “Yeah… I think I love him.”

“Really?” Penelope lights right up, “Oh my god?”

“I know! It’s been so nice, we were going to go on another date tonight but, you know, duty calls…”

“How many have you had so far?”

“Uh,” Y/N doesn’t really know. “Well, we unpacked boxes last Saturday and then on Sunday we went to the park and I’ve seen him every day this week…”

“I know,” Penelope pretends to be mad about it but she can’t stay fake mad for long. She loves them both too much. “I’ve missed you.”

“I miss you too, I just like cuddles with my boyfriend more…”

“Boyfriend?”

She nods, “Yeah, I think that’s what we are, I mean, we’ve already talked about what we want and he said he wants to fall in love with me so I think that makes us boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Spencer said that? Shy, nervous, Spencer Reid?” Penelope can’t believe it.

She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, I guess that’s him… I don’t know, he’s a lot less shy with me.”

“Have you—

“No, no, not yet,” she waves her hands in front of the screen and looks panicked. “No. We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“No?”

She shakes her head, “No… I mean, I want to and we’ve had some nice make-out sessions but we haven’t done anything more than kiss.”

“Wow,” Penelope is genuinely shocked. “I thought you would’ve jumped him by now.”

“Hey,” she says with a cheeky smile. “I have self-control… so does he, I guess cause he hasn’t even tried to cop a feel or anything, he’s super reserved.”

“Well yeah he’s spent 40 years being a virgin,” Penelope says without any malice, she’s just stating a fact. “He’s used to things not going there. I think you have to make the move.”

“I was thinking that too,” she doesn’t sound excited about it. “I’m just really scared even though I know I shouldn’t be when it’s Spencer. He’s going to be very sweet and he’s already told me he thinks I’m beautiful and I feel it around him… it’s just so nerve-wracking.”

“I was still a teenager when I had sex the first time and it was so scary, I wish I waited,” she really emphasizes Wish. “I wish I was mature and chose someone good and deserving and I wish he cared about me. But you have all those things right now, it’ll be worth it now.”

“I know,” she tries her hardest to believe her. “I know it’ll be okay… it’s just the anticipation feels more like anxiety.”

“Which is totally normal, but it’ll go away when it happens, believe me.”

“I do.”

—

Spencer's cause goes on another 4 days. She brings him coffee and donuts after work, she meets his friends and ex-collogues and she understands now why he had to get out of it all. Emily is just a few years older than him and fully grey, JJ sneaks out to make phone calls to her family who she doesn’t see as often as she wants and Luke is still single no matter how hard he tries. The job takes things from them.

She gives him a hug before she leaves each time, never a kiss, that would embarrass him in front of his new co-workers and his old ones would never let him live it down. So he gets just a hug. It’s long, they linger and then she goes home.

It’s weird being home without him now that he’s been there often. She misses him dearly, every day. All through the weekend, he works. And then the case ends on a Tuesday at 3 in the morning and stays up just for her. He buys them coffee, he walks to her place and he knocks on her door right at 6:30, 15 minutes after he knows her alarm has gone off.

She opens the door dazed and confused. “What are you doing here?”

“I missed my best friend.”

“Get in here,” she tugs him inside and makes him put the coffees down so she could have a proper welcome.

She cups his face in her hands and kisses him with so much force and passion, it startles him. But he kisses her back. He wraps her up in a big hug, bringing her in closer, he deepens the kiss with the swipe of his tongue and she pushes him back against her door. It’s as fiery as the first time, it’s better than the kiss in the bookstore, there’s so much more feeling in it now.

His hand roams up the flat of her back, over her shoulders and rests on the nape of her neck. His thumb caresses the skin under her ear, causing her to moan into the kiss and pull away, embarrassed. Her eyes go wide and she stutters on her way to find an excuse but Spencer just smiles, still caressing her, he brings his other hand up to cup her cheek, “It’s okay… you’re so cute.”

Her cheeks heat up and she feels bashful as all hell. “Shut up,” is all she can manage to say. “I’m still half asleep, I mean, you should be lucky I already brushed my teeth before you surprised me.”

“Mm,” Spencer hums, running his tongue over his teeth, “that’s why you’re so minty.”

She just pulls away and reaches for her coffee, “And now I can’t drink this until the minty-ness goes away, so thank you.”

“Should I go awa—

“No,” she rushes out. “No, you can stay. I can drive you home on my way to work.”

“Okay,” he can’t help but giggle a bit as he makes his way closer to her, reaching out for her waist. “You like me…”

“Shush!” She swats him away, “I have to get ready, don’t tempt me.”

“Just one more kiss? Come on, isn’t it the deal that I compliment you and you kiss me?” He begs. “You’re so beautiful and smart and lovely—

She steps closer to him and presses her lips right to his only to pull back just as fast. He cups her face in his hands and stops her from moving away too fast and peppers kisses to her lips. “Spence— Spencer!” She giggles while trying to pull away, “Seriously, I have to go to work!!”

“Fine,” Spencer sighs as he lets her go, only to pull her back in for one last kiss. “Okay, now you can go.”

She just laughs as she pulls away and heads back to her room, “Come on, you can sit in my room while I get ready.”

“Really?” He follows even though he doesn’t believe her.

“Why not?” She doesn’t see why it’s a big deal, “I’m just doing my makeup and then I have to pick an outfit and I’ll change in the bathroom?”

“Okay, yeah, sorry I just thought you meant you’d change in front of me and I didn’t think we were there yet?”

“Oh, no,” she agrees. Taking a seat at her little makeup desk, she turns to him. “When do you think we should be ready for something like that?”

“When do you want to?” He questions her right back.

She shrugs, “I don’t know… this Saturday is 2 weeks of us being together so, I mean, most couples start moving further around then?”

“We’re not most couples,” he reminds her.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Spencer hesitates, he looks a little nervous but he sits on the end of her bed anyway. “I’ve never had sex before… I’ve wanted to, I’ve tried.”

“I’ve never even tried,” she’s incredibly honest. “Making out is as far as I’ve gone with anyone.”

“Really?” He almost can’t believe it. “Why?”

She shrugs, “I’m over-emotional and incredibly soft. I can’t do one-night stands and I’ve never trusted anyone enough to experiment before.”

“Oh,” Spencer softens, “you feel safe with me?”

She nods, “Extremely.”

He gets up and wraps his arms around her, resting his cheek against the top of her head. She snuggles into him and holds onto one of his forearms, they both sigh. Completely content with one another.

—

They agreed to try and go further on Friday night. They both have weekends off, so they could spend the whole weekend together if they wanted to.

And when Friday comes, she isn’t nervous. It’s just a Friday.

She placed an order for Chinese food when she got home from work and texted Spencer right after so he could get it on his way over. It was closer to his place and convenient this way and he just liked to get it for them. And while he’s on his way, she takes the time to bring out some comfy blankets to put on the couch for their cuddles later and she lights some candles and turns on her fairy lights. Her whole living room is set in a soft, romantic mood with the hopes that they could do more than just cuddle tonight…

Spencer knocks 3 times to let her know it’s him and then he walks in, “Hey, so they ran out of spring rolls but they gave us egg rolls instead, is that cool?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” she doesn’t care, rushing over to the door she takes the bags from him and puts them on the table by the door instead.

He slips out of his shoes and puts them beside hers, then he takes his bag off and places it beside his shoes, next he takes off his coat and hangs it up. He even locks her front door for her, these are all things he’s used to doing after 2 weeks of visiting. She clears her throat when he takes too long to turn back to her, “excuse me, I’m waiting,” she teases.

“Sorry,” he steps closer to her and places his hand on her cheek as he leans in for his welcome home kiss. It’s a new tradition that she loves so much and clearly he does too as she can feel him smile through the kiss. He kisses her once, twice and a 3rd time just because he can, “there, happy?”

She shakes her head and cups both his cheeks, pulling him in for a longer, more passionate kiss. His hands go to her waist, holding her closer to his body, he wraps her up in a hug as well. She pulls back with an audible “mwah,” and a smile on her own face. “Now I’m happy.”

“You’re so cute,” he compliments. “I missed you so much today.”

“I missed you, handsome,” she compliments right back. “Um, I missed you so much I was wondering if maybe you’d want to stay over tonight?”

“Oh?” He’s only slightly surprised, “yeah, I’d like that… I just need to check my bag, hold on.”

“Okay?” She’s a little confused about why he has to, but she doesn’t ask any questions. She just watches him open up his satchel and search the pockets.

“Oh, good,” he says with relief in his voice as he pulls out a bottle of pills and his toothbrush. “I haven’t told you yet, but I’m on antidepressants… I take them every night before bed.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she says without a second thought. “Do they help?”

He nods, putting them back in his bag until later, “Yeah, I like them.”

“Good, now, come on,” she grabs the bag of food and makes her way over to the kitchen so she can start dishing everything out. “Did you check that they had everything?”

“You bet, after they forgot the red sauce last time I’m never not checking the bag again,” he says as he follows her.

They spend a few minutes in the kitchen as they fill their plates with a variety of food. Spencer opts for a fork while she uses the chopsticks provided in the bag and then they move back to the living room. They put their plates on the coffee table and sit down criss-cross apple sauce together on the floor in front of the couch. The remote is on Spencer's side of the table, and the TV is on and ready for them to pick a show, but instead, Spencer asks how her day went.

“Oh, it was okay with my juniors we worked on SAT prep and then with my 3 freshman classes we worked on their independent study unit and I’m now considered the cool teacher cause I let them listen to their music while they read,” she shares with a smile. “And then for my spare I filled in for Miss Tyndall, the arts teacher, so we watched a David Bowie doc while they all worked on different projects.”

“Sounds like a fun day,” Spencer loves to listen to her talk about it all. “You’d be my favourite teacher too.”

“I know,” she can’t help but smile. “How was your day?”

He shrugs, taking a forkful of fried rice, he covers his mouth with his hand while he talks, “It was okay, no one died so that’s a bonus.”

For the rest of their meal, they share little stories, about their day and things they heard on the news or on TikTok, funny anecdotes and memories from their separate pasts. It’s nice. She could listen to him all day and he felt the same. When their plates are empty, they both lean back against the couch and Spencer turns to stare at her with so much love in his eyes.

“I’m really enjoying my nights with you,” he shares, and in the silence, she feels it. But he says it anyway, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she says and a feeling of relief flows out of her in the form of a sigh. Her shoulders drop, and she looks over at him with a sweet smile, silent as they take in the moment. “I love you so much.”

He places his hand on top of hers, both of them are in too much of a food coma to move closer or kiss or anything. They just hold hands and stare at each other.

“I get it now,” she whispers. “I understand what she’s been singing about all these years… this feeling right here. It’s worth the heartbreak, I think.”

“I can’t tell the future, but I know I never want to leave you,” Spencer replies, voice equally as soft. “I want everything with you.”

Her heart starts to beat out of her chest but she knows she has to ask it. “Would you be my first?”

“Only if you’d be mine?”

She nods, tears bubbling behind her eyes, and she squeezes his hand. “I’d love nothing more… but I’m in a food coma right now.”

Spencer breaks out in a burst of historical laughter first, causing her to laugh just as hard and lean into his shoulder.

“Well, then it’s a good thing we have all weekend,” Spencer finally says, he wraps his arm around her and holds her close.

“Even if we don’t do it tonight, do you want to sleep in my bed with me?”

He nods against her, “Yeah… I’ve been thinking about that a lot actually. It’s really hard to leave here in the middle of the night knowing you’re sleeping alone in there when we were just cuddling right here,” he motions to the couch. “I want to wake up with you next to me every morning.”

The warmth that fills her stomach is a mixture of extreme happiness but also anxiety… it’s almost too good to be true. She pulls away and looks up at him with fearful eyes, “is it normal to fall in love this fast?” The words just tumble out of her.

Spencer shrugs, “I mean… I’ve always heard the saying ‘when you know, you know’ and I’ve read a lot about love at first sight and the way we pick our mates based on familiar facial structures that make us feel safe… and I’ve been in love before and I never met her—

“But I understand why you loved her, she was the only person in your life other than your mother to truly take care of you and listen…” Y/N cuts him off, remembering the night he told her all about Maeve.

“Yeah, and from the first day I met you, you’ve done the same,” Spencer reminds her. “You brought me muffins so that I’d have something to eat before work and you wanted to help me unpack and every day since you have cared for me more than anyone I know. Onto of that you’re beautiful and easy to talk to and you’re not only wonderful to me, but to everyone, you know. It wasn’t hard for me to love you, I’m just surprised you love me.”

“Why?”

“Well, for starters I’m a 42-year-old man who’s spent the last 20 years of my life hunting serial killers and I had a drug problem and I’ve killed people and I was in prison… you know everything and you still love me?” Spencer really can’t believe it.

“Mhm, I love you because despite all that shit that’s happened to you, you still have a sweet smile and a big heart and the best mind I know,” Y/N confirms everything he needed to know. “I love you because you’re you. There’s no other reason.”

He cups her cheek and looks at her with the softest expression known to man, “I’m going to love you forever.”

“Show me?” she whispers, pleading with her eyes to know just how much he loves her.

“Do we just leave our plates here?” He teases, going to stand up.

“I guess we can put them away,” she agrees, she moves to her knees and gathers up her own plate while Spencer does the same with his.

They meet again in the kitchen, placing both plates in her dishwasher, she turns to the leftovers and starts to pack them away while Spencer moves back over to his bag. He grabs his phone and something else while she’s not looking and he opens up Spotify. He doesn’t have many songs saved to his account, just some classical music and the most important song… Sweet Nothing.

She turns to him within milliseconds, “Spence?”

He places his phone on the counter and hands her a little rock, one he picked up on his walk over to see her before work last week. He never had the time to give it to her between all their kissing and her getting ready for work. “Here… it’s only May but I can get you another rock in July.”

She doesn’t want to speak or she’ll cry, but she manages to say: “okay,” as she takes it from him and steps into his space to dance again. In her kitchen this time…

She rests her head on his shoulder, his arms around her waist, they sway to the sound of the music and hold each other close. And then he kisses her shoulder and the side of her neck up to her ear. He cups her face in his hand and stares into her eyes, “bedroom?”

“Bedroom,” she agrees, taking his hand in hers, she leads him back into her room and turns on just the one table lamp she has beside her bed, “should we light candles and stuff?”

“Do you want to?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know, isn’t that what people do when they have special sex?”

“Special sex?”

“You know, first times, birthday sex, anniversary sex… emotional sex,” she redefines what she meant and surprisingly she isn’t embarrassed.

“Candles would be nice, then,” Spencer agrees with a smile. “Do you have condoms? Are you on the pill?”

She smirks, “I bought some condoms on Tuesday after work.”

He watches her open her bedside table and take out the box of condoms and a lighter, she hands him the condoms, “Here.”

“Thanks,” he reads them over, latex-free, real feel, they’d work perfectly.

While he’s reading over the box, she lights a few candles in her room and he takes a seat on the side of her bed, watching her. When she returns to him, she stands between his legs and rests her hands on his shoulders. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely,” Spencer smiles up at her and reaches out to hold her hips. He plays with the hem of her shirt, “how do you want to do this?”

“Can we strip down to our underwear and get into bed and kiss for a bit and see where it goes?”

“Of course, yeah, that sounds good,” Spencer agrees, he pushes up her shirt and she lifts her arms to help. Spencer has to stand up to pull it all the way off and then he looks down at her in her bra. “wow…”

“Thanks,” she smirks, shaking her head as she reaches for his shirt to undo the buttons, “they’re just boobs…”

“Just boobs,” he repeats with a small chuckle. “I’ll have you know everything about you is spectacular.” And with a rush of confidence, he cups both breasts with his hands, he runs his thumbs over where her nipples are hidden under the fabric and she has to bite her lip so she doesn’t moan.

“Do you like that?”

She nods and pushes his shirt off his shoulders until it's discarded on the floor. “Yeah. I don’t think you’ve ever noticed but… your hands… I watch them when you talk and when you’re tracing a page as you read really fast and you use two fingers instead of one and I’ve wanted you to touch me from the moment I saw you.”

“Mmm,” he turns her around and motions for her to get on the bed and she moves quickly, she’s resting her head on the pillows when he’s suddenly hovering over her.

He runs his pointer finger from her chin, down her neck and between the crease of her breasts before cupping them both again and places kisses on her exposed chest. She arches into the contact and his hands follow both her arms until his fingers are interlocked with hers. Holding them over her head as he kisses her neck and shoulder.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, “how’d I get so lucky?”

“We have a great mutual friend, remember?” She teases,

He groans “Don’t mention her when I’m about to go down on you…” he says as he nibbles at her skin and it makes her moan, grinding her hips up against him, she wants him so bad but she still has her pants on. He sits on his knees between her spread legs and undoes the button as she lifts her hips, helping him glide them down her legs and off. He tosses them to the floor and goes right back in, gripping her by the hips he leans down and kisses her stomach… something she never thought any man would do.

He wants her just as bad as she wants him and it’s prevalent in the way his eyes are blown out as he looks up at her, pleading with his eyes, all he says is “Can I?” And she nods. He pulls her underwear down and tosses them off only to lift one and kiss from her ankle and all the way up to her knee and then he dips in closer, smothering her inner thigh with kisses and nips and then he sucks a deep purple mark into her skin, lapping over it with his tongue before blowing on it softly.

“Holy fuck,” she moans as he gets closer to her pussy and all she wants is his hands on her.

Almost like he reads her mind, he moves to the other leg and hurries along until he’s kissing right along where her underwear used to meet her thigh. Then, he spreads her pussy and licks a broad stripe along her cunt. He presses a kiss to her clit next as she bucks her hips into the sensation, “Oh my god, Spence?”

“Shh,” he whispers, looking up at her from between her legs like a man starved. “Just enjoy it, I’ve always wanted to do this.”

She’s so turned on from the teasing alone, and then he adds a finger, he gently circles it around her hole before inserting it slowly, seeing how much give she has before he takes it all. The feeling of his tongue on her is unlike anything she’s ever felt before, he’s soft yet rough and sweet yet disgusting with the noises he’s making. She can’t help reaching out and gripping his hair as her hips lift from the bed again. With only one free hand, he pushes her back down against the bed and she whines. When he adds a second finger, the stretch isn’t too much to handle, he’s so much better with his hands than she figured he’d be as he finger fucks her. His tongue on her clit and freehand trails from her hip up to grip her tit as he grinds against the mattress, he’s so into it she’s worried he might not get to really fuck her.

“Spencer,” she pants, “holy fuck Spence, please, oh my god,” she can barely make it through the sentence when his fingers curl and her legs tremble.

“Cum for me,” he growls against her and her body listens as she jolts forward and she feels the rush flow through her bloodstream.

“Oh!” she cups her breast and arches her back, oblivious to how he watches her while still lapping at her clit.

When it gets to be too much for her, she grips his hair tighter and pulls him off, “fuck me, now… please?”

“Is it an order or a suggestion,” he teases as he kisses back up her body with his glistening and wet lips, “well?”

“Please?” She looks at him with the sweetest, most fucked out expression. “That was amazing, baby.”

“Fuck,” he groans and drags himself off the bed so he can push his pants and boxers off in one fell swoop. Now, only in his mismatched socks, he doesn’t really have the time to take them off as he reaches for the abandoned box of condoms at the foot of her bed.

She watches contently as he hastily rips it open and rolls it on before he gets back on the bed. He gets right back to where he was, between her legs, he places his hands on her knees and soothes them down her inner thighs, “you sure?”

She nods, “I’m ready.”

“Okay,” he says with a deep breath, readying himself in the meantime, he grips himself at the base and pushes the head into her, inch by inch, he watches as her mouth opens in a silent gasp.

“My god…” he coos, “it’s like you were fuckin made for me.”

She’s speechless, reading out for more of him, she’s desperate for his touch. Her hands land on his hips, his skin is so soft and warm and then they’re flush together. He bottoms out and stills, he drops down so that they’re chest to chest and she cups his face instead, “Hi…”

“Hi,” he manages to laugh, holding himself up with one arm, his other hand pushes her hair back off her forehead and stays there. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she says as she pulls him in for a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue, he collapses onto her and wraps his arm around her, angling her hips up as he starts to thrust.

The kiss gets hungrier, and they moan into each other as he picks up the pace, really fucking her just like she asked him to. She has no idea where this side of him came from but she can’t explain how much she likes it, the hand that was once in her hair is now pushed into the pillow, bracing himself as he hovers and fucks her deeply.

She absentmindedly runs her hand along his forearm and takes his hands in hers, interlocking their fingers before he holds it over her head again and fucks into her with vigour. Her legs wrap around him, every trust grinds his pubic bone against her clit and she’s still so sensitive, she’s so incredibly close that all she can do is sloppily kiss him and moan into his mouth.

His hips snap faster and faster as he fucks her and she can’t hold back anymore when she tosses her head back and sucks him in more. “Oh my god,” and “Holy fuck,” is all she can say, making him smirk.

He’s trying his hardest to keep his composure, breathing quickly, it’s the best workout he’s ever had trying to keep the pace and please her right. “I might,” he says between pants, “I might last a while… cause my meds—

“I don’t care,” she uses her free hand to cup his cheek again, “I want to stay here forever, holy shit.”

“Yeah?”

She tosses her head back again, “Oh my god, yeah!”

He just laughs and it’s the sexiest thing she’s ever heard. She’s right there at the edge when he retrieves his hand from behind her back and rubs his thumb over her clit, “you can cum, if you want.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she says, running her hand down his chest and looking between them to see what he’s doing, “I want to finish with you.”

His grip on the hand she’s holding gets tighter, he’s sweaty and losing stamina and nowhere close to being done. “Do you want to switch positions?” She asks, “It’s okay?”

“Can we?” He slows to a stop, “you’re okay with that?”

“Spence, I love you,” she reminds him, “It’s fine, it’s better than fine, actually… I’ve heard all my friends talk about dudes who last 5 seconds, this is more than I ever expected.”

“I’m just anxious, you can see why I take them,” he gets all blushy and bashful as he lets go of her hand, pulls out and sits back up on his knees.

She sits up too, taking her bra off in the process. She tosses it to the floor and his jaw drops when he sees her naked chest, “fuck..” He mumbles under his breath.

“Here, you sit up against the headboard,” she suggests, moving out of the way so he can take her place.

Once he’s settled she straddles his hips and takes his cock in her hand, angling it toward her entering as she sits upon it. Once he’s fully inside she drapes her arms around his shoulders and smiles at him, “We can do it this way… now you’ve got a face full of tits.”

His hands soothe down her bare back down to her hips, he licks his lips as he looks at them and helps her glide her body against his. “My god,” he all but moans, watching her boobs jiggle as she starts to really ride him.

“You’re so deep,” she moans, tossing her head back again to free up her neck, he pulls her in and kisses her from her shoulder up to her ear, lighting sucking at her earlobe, he brings his hand up to cup her cheek and ends up gripping her hair at the nape of her neck and pulling her to the side so he can messily smother her in kisses. “No marks, I have teenagers to teach, ‘member? They’re fucking ruthless.”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, too into it to really care, his other hand reaches down to thumb at her clit, he’s getting close and she wants to finish with him.

He finally does cup her face with the hand that was just in her hair, he caresses her cheek with his thumb, pulling her back in for a kiss that’s all tongue. She moans into his mouth, running her hands down his chest, she uses his as leverage to keep pushing back before grinding down on him, he’s right against her g-spot and so fucking deep she can feel him everywhere, “Spence,” she whines, pulling back from the kiss, “are you close?”

“Uh-huh,” he pulls her back in, kissing her deeper, he wraps both his arms around her back and lifts her up, laying her back against the bed and slams his hips into hers over and over.

Her back arches again and she opens her mouth in a silent moan, it’s so good she can barely breathe. She reaches out for him, gripping his biceps, he attacks her neck again, covering her in sloppy kisses and hot breath. His pelvic bone grinds against her clit, again and again, bringing her right to the edge again until she finally peaks, moaning, she arches her back as her orgasm rushes through her but he doesn’t stop. He fucks her through it, chasing his own high.

“Fuck, I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbles, through his last few thrusts, and then he stills with a groan, filling the condom, he drops down against her.

they’re a ball of limbs, holding each other so close she doesn’t know where she ends and he begins. He buries his face in her neck, still kissing her, she holds him tighter, “I love you so much, too, Spencer.”

taglist:

@reidsbookclub @samuel-de-champagne-problems @superskittles @thedancingcostumeyoungadult @midnightreids @ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129

#Spencer reid #Spencer reid smut #Spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer reid fanfic #Spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid x y/n #Spencer reid x you #Spencer reid self insert #Spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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marvel-ous-m · 1 year ago

Text

Eddie Munson’s Guide for How to Adopt a Jock in Four Easy Steps (4/5)

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Five

Ao3 Link

A.N.: I can’t believe we’re already at the penultimate chapter! I know it seems crazy that it’ll all get wrapped up after this, but I promise it will. You’ll have to forgive me for the D&D game description... in addition to being a Stranger Things nerd, I have been a D&D nerd for the last ten or so years, so describing a campaign is super fun for me and I sometimes can get off-track. Speaking of which, I did some 1st edition research but I mostly play 5th, so apologies if there are any discrepancies! All that to say, hopefully you can pick up on the symbolism in the campaign scene, too! Okay, rant over, now onto the chapter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright, Sir Grant the Good, roll a perception check.”

The familiar clatter of dice against the wood tabletop filled the room, and it seemed that the entire party held their breath to hear Grant’s result.

“15 plus three- what’ll an 18 get me?”

Eddie hummed, tapping a finger on his chin. “You see a pair of eyes staring back at you from deep in the tree line. They’re slightly yellow, certainly belonging to an animal, and seemingly a large one.” Eddie pauses to roll a die, then hisses under his breath. “The animal meets your eyes and sees you’ve spotted it. It lets out a low growl- what do you do?”

Grant groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Shit, um- I draw my sword and I wave to Mistress Emery and Sir Geoffrey.”

“Sir Geoffrey stands beside Sir Grant and readies his bow.” Jeff speaks from his seat next to Grant, holding a D20 between his fingers, ready to roll initiative.

Gareth grinned, leaning forward in his chair to get a better view of the map on the table. “I come up to stand next to Sir Grant and ready myself to cast call lightning.”

“Um, sorry, can I-” Steve whispered from his place at the table, a chair that Eddie had moved up to have Steve sit next to him while he DM’d. Eddie turned to Steve, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s up, Steve? You’re free to speak whenever you want, you don’t have to just watch quietly.” Eddie nudged Steve’s side, encouraging the jock to speak.

“Yeah, um, it’s just-” Steve cleared his throat, then looked at the other three members of Hellfire. “Mistress Emery is a Druid, right? So like, isn’t her animal handling through the roof or whatever? Why don’t you try and take care of the animal before you try to kill it?”

Gareth blinked in surprise, shot a look at Jeff and Grant, then turned to Eddie. “He knows D&D?!”

“He is sitting right here.” Steve muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes.

“Right- sorry, what Gareth meant to say is- how do you know D&D?” Jeff gave Gareth a warning glare, then turned his attention Steve’s way.

Steve sighed, shrugging somewhat awkwardly. “I babysit some middle schoolers. This one kid, Dustin, he’s obsessed with this stuff. Honestly all of them are, but I spend the most time with Dustin. He brought up a druid recently when we were walking around the tracks- sounded kinda interesting, so I listened.” Steve’s eyes shifted to stare down at the tabletop then, and he frowned to himself. “I used to pick up Nancy’s little brother from their campaigns, too. I’d usually have to wait around for at least thirty minutes for them to wrap things up before we could get a move on.”

The party sat in silence for a few moments, processing the revelation about Steve’s D&D knowledge. Finally Grant hummed in thought, then turned to Gareth. “He’s got a point. Plus, if we don’t attack immediately we save some spell slots, potentially some HP too.”

“Yeah, but the thing is growling! It’s probably going to pounce at us any minute now.” Gareth huffed, crossing his arms.

“Maybe it’s hurt. That could be a warning growl rather than it trying to pounce at us.” Jeff reasoned. “Just give it a try, Gareth. I’ll keep an arrow loaded and I can flank while you do an animal handling check so that if it attacks I can try and shoot at it before it does any damage.”

Gareth frowned, clearly annoyed, but nevertheless held up a D20. “Fine. I approach the forest line and hold a hand out in the direction of the animal.”

“Roll for animal handling.” Eddie flipped through his binder of notes as he spoke, easily finding the page he was looking for.

Gareth dropped the dice on the table, eyebrows shooting up in surprise when he read the resulting roll. “Huh- Nat 20, and I’ve got a plus five on my modifier. What’ll that do for me?”

“The animal walks out of the forest, and you know from your studies that you’re now face to face with an Owlbear. The beast makes another growling sound, but is far less menacing. You see that Jeff was correct- the animal has a deep slash running from one of its talons up to its chest. You can tell that it originated from a sword, but the blood around the beast’s beak tells you that whatever fighter that had tried to attack the owlbear previously lost that battle. You can tell that the animal is more scared than anything. What do you do?”

“Um… okay. I cast cure wounds and then reach into my pack and provide the Owlbear with a piece of dried meat to show it that it can trust me?”

Eddie nodded, pulling a sticky note from his binder and handing it to Gareth, smirking as he did. “The Owlbear takes the food, trusts you, and decides to stay with your party. Here are its stats, it’ll now obey your commands and fight alongside you until its dying breath. Congratulations, Mistress Emery.”

“Holy shit! We have an Owlbear now, that’s so fucking cool.” Grant grins, nudging Gareth’s side. “Good work, man.”

Gareth scanned the sticky note, then smiled at Steve. “Thank Steve, he’s the one who suggested it. Did you sneak a look at Eddie’s notes or something?”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, it just sounded like a better alternative.”

“I made it injured so your band of fighters would have a better chance of killing the thing, but Steve’s little stunt had me thinking on my feet.” Eddie spoke up, then winked in Steve’s direction. Steve ducked his head in response, a blush playing at his cheeks. Interesting.

“Thanks, man.” Jeff nodded in Steve’s direction. “Maybe you should play with us next time. You seem to know your stuff.”

Steve snorted at that, shaking his head once again. “I barely know anything. Besides, all the dice and numbers would probably confuse the hell outta me. But… uh, thanks for the offer. Maybe one day.”

The party moved on with the campaign, killing some goblins on their route as they followed a map they had received from a barkeep at the beginning of the adventure. Steve chimed in occasionally when he found something interesting, and Eddie even had him roll a few times for some of the encounters. By the end of the campaign, the party was actively strategizing with him, and Steve was grinning ear to ear and giving his opinions on what to do next. The party ended up defeating the ‘big bad’ at the end, a goblin king and four of its soldiers. They recovered some treasure and a map, which Eddie told them would be the subject of the next chapter of their campaign.

It was about 7pm when they finally wrapped everything up, cleaned the room out, locked up, and walked together out to the parking lot. Steve, who had been pretty awake and alert for the entirety of the playthrough, was now looking much more exhausted. He waved goodbye to the boys and pulled his coat tighter around himself, then rushed from the back door of the school to his car through the biting November air.

The four members of Hellfire watched as Steve sped off, then stood together quietly under the awning of Hawkins High. Gareth broke the silence, crossing his arms to stave off the cold. “Alright, I’ll admit it. I was hesitant to believe it, but you’re right. Harrington’s cool.”

“You were right about the other stuff too, Eddie. He didn’t look too good. Do you know what happened? Why Billy pounded on him last weekend?” Jeff spoke up next, fidgeting with a string hanging off of his sweater.

Eddie sighed, producing a cigarette from his coat pocket and lighting it with his zippo. “Nope.” Eddie popped the ‘p’ when he spoke, then took a long drag of the cigarette. “Barely had a chance to ask him about it, and he deflected any time I tried to get more information outta him. I think it all really messed him up, but he doesn’t want to admit it.”

The party stood in silence for a few more minutes, all lost in thought. This time, Grant broke the silence. “My mom wants me home for dinner by 7:30, so I gotta get going. But I’m cool with letting Steve into the party if everyone else is. Looks like it’d be good for him- probably good for us, too. He’s cool.” Grant zipped up his sweatshirt as he spoke, then pulled car keys out of his pocket. “Need a ride, Gareth?”

“Yeah, thanks man. I’m cool with letting Steve hang with us, too. Just let us know what we need to do Eddie.” Gareth waved goodbye to Jeff and Eddie, then followed Grant to his car.

“How ‘bout you, Jeff? Got anything against letting Steve into Hellfire?” Eddie questioned quietly. He took another long drag from the cigarette, watching as the smoke he breathed out disappeared into the cold night air.

“You know it’s fine by me, man.” Jeff paused, then sighed. “I am a little concerned, though.”

Eddie frowned. “About what?”

“About you.” Jeff moved his attention from the stray thread on his sweater to Eddie, crossing his arms. “About him, too. I’ve known you the longest out of everyone here, Eds. I can tell when you’ve got a crush. Harrington’s fragile- you said it yourself, and you saw how he was when he mentioned Nancy. It looks like everything is really fresh for him right now. All I’m asking is for you to keep that in mind as you move forward in making him feel welcome. I’m worried that things could go sideways. Either one of you, or both of you, for that matter, could be really hurt if things go wrong. Just… take it slow.” Jeff checked his watch then, wincing when he saw the time. “I gotta run. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Like Gareth said, just let us know what we can do to help Steve feel welcome.”

Eddie nodded, watching as Jeff got into his car and drove off, leaving Eddie and his van alone in the parking lot. Eddie leaned against the brick wall of the school and dropped his cigarette onto the ground, watching as the light fizzled out in the thin layer of snow.

Step Two: Get the Party to Come Around on Steve Harrington, complete. Time for the Step Three (which would likely be the last step in his plan): Get Steve Fully Integrated Into Hellfire.

…with one important caveat. Do not fall harder for Steve Harrington.

Easier said than done.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List: @ellietheasexylibrarian @cuips-not-cute @melodymeddler @i-have-three-feelings @sc00ps-ahoy @singmeyoursimpsong @patchworkgargoyle @spectrum-spectre @devondespresso @thesuninyaface @obsessivlyme @angeldreamsoffanfic @carlyv @nburkhardt @inspirationorinsanity @rebelspykatie @my2amgaythoughts @lavenderagenda @just-a-tiny-void @mamafaithful @breadboi66 @beholdingloser @randomfandomcontent @oftirnanog @yellowdevilkitten @steves-strapcollection @keep-er-steddie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bisexualdisastersworld @jinxjinn @copingmechanizm @blackpanzy @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @evix-syne666 @crisisinverted17 @satan-is-obsessed @shrimply-a-menace @anaibis @trashcanniballecter @thoughtfulbreadpolice @awholedamnmesstbh @chaoticvictorianspirit @jcmadgirl @satan-is-obsessed @tommyvelvet @sleepdeprivedflower @fruitmix @carvingsnowdogs @annabanannabeth @rhyswritesreadsandcries @a-little-unsteddie

#stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #my writing #1984 steddie meeting au my beloved #steddie fic #pre s4 #pre s4 meeting #s2 rewrite #steve harrington needs a hug #hurt/comfort

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floralpascal · 1 year ago

Note

Hiii I love you work of Frankie <3 a request if you’re up for it, since I love your writing style and how you present him hehe

Something inspired by Billie’s Bossa Nova lines:

“You better lock your phone,

And look at me when we’re alone,

Won’t take a lot to get you going,

I’m sorry if it’s torture though,

I know I know”

Idk I see a shy Frankie and reader tilting his face towards her with her finger and whispering in his ear and sksksk go crazy please

You're an absolute genius for this idea! I love this song sooo much and my mind went wild with incorporating it into the story. I absolutely did not expect it to take this long or to write this much when I started. I also didn't expect this to turn into smut but here we are! I hope you like it!!

Bossa Nova

Summary: You and Frankie are both head-over-heels for each other... only neither of you realize the other is interested. When Santi sets you both up with mystery dates, you're both surprised to find that Santi has set you up with each other.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Word Count: 6.3k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: kissing, fingering, protected p-in-v sex, creampie

You shouldn’t have told Santi about it. You should’ve just kept your mouth shut. But how were you supposed to know that your vent session would lead to this?

The crux of the issue was that your dating life was beyond fruitless. Date after date, it always went the same. Either the spark wasn’t there, the conversation was as easy as pulling teeth, or the guy wouldn’t get off his damn phone long enough to genuinely interact with you. It had left you feeling more than a little frustrated. Had every good guy already been snatched up and now all you had to pick from were the leftovers?

Or was it you? Was it the fact that the only guy you wanted to go on a date with was Santi’s best friend? You had been introduced to Frankie at one of Santi’s infamous cookouts. The same night that Santi had accidentally burnt your hamburgers to a crisp, you had met the sweetest man in the world. He had been quiet back then, the conversation a bit awkward. But after multiple nights out with Frankie, Santi, and the Miller brothers, you had slowly gotten to know Frankie better. And damn it he was driving you insane. Despite how down bad you were for him, it never went anywhere.

Of course the one guy you wanted didn’t feel the same.

“There’s just no single guy out there who actually wants to talk,” you lamented to your friend, Santi, one day. You hadn’t meant to rant like this when you had invited him over for dinner so the two of you could catch up. But after he asked how your last date had gone, a quizzical eyebrow raised from across the kitchen table, you hadn’t been able to stop from telling him. You continued, “No one even seems to care to be on the date at all. It’s like they don’t have anything better to do, so going on a date with me is their next best option, you know?”

Santi — who had been listening to your rant sympathetically for about five minutes — suddenly scrunched his eyebrows before a scheming smile slowly spread across his lips.

You knew that look from a mile away.

“No, no, no!” You warned preemptively. “Whatever crazy idea you just had: no.”

“What if I said I knew a great guy who’s single and thoughtful and would be perfect for you?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. Of course he would try to set you up. “Santi, no. I appreciate it but I’m done with the dating scene. I’ve embarrassed myself enough. I give up.”

He shook his head, that annoying grin still plastered to his face as he pointed his fork at you. “Nope, no quitter talk. I’m telling you, you’ll love this guy. I can’t believe I never realized how perfect you’d be for each other before now!”

“Santi-”

“Uh-uh. This is happening. You’re free on Friday, right? You’re going on a date with him. It’s a crime that you haven’t already.”

“What’s his name?” You asked. “You haven’t even said who it is.”

Santi shook his head again, saying, “That’s gonna be a surprise.”

You tried to explain that you were over the disappointment of dating and that going out with a mystery guy didn’t sound much more promising than any of your past dates. But it didn’t matter. Santi had set his mind on it.

“He’s been having bad luck on dates just like you have,” he explained as he whipped out his phone, presumably sending a text to the guy about this arrangement.

“Santi, seriously, I don’t know about this…”

“What’s the matter?”

“Usually when dates go bad, the one bright side is that I know I’ll never see the guy again. I don’t know him or anyone else that knows him, so there won’t be any fallout when things go bad. Won’t it be weird for us and you if things don’t go well?”

He shook his head with decisive confidence before clicking his phone off. “That’s the thing, it won’t go badly. I’m telling you, it’ll be the best date of your life. You’ve got to trust me on this. It’s gonna be great.”

You looked at the ceiling, mulling this all over as you tapped the edge of your empty plate. Almost completely fed up with the idea of dating, the last thing you wanted was another failed date. But Santi was dead-set on it and seemed to truly believe it was something that could work. And simply waiting for love to come your way was getting both boring and disheartening.

After considering everything for a moment, you asked, “He’s not going to be some murderous creep, right?”

Santi beamed, seemingly taking your question as confirmation that you were interested in the date. “Nah, you’ll love him. I trust him with my life.”

You raised an eyebrow. Santi wasn’t the kind of man who said that he trusted someone with his life unless he really meant it.

Bing!

Santi looked down at his phone before smiling up at you again. “He’s in. How does Friday at seven sound?”

“I said no.”

Santi had been on Frankie’s ass for days now. When Frankie had gotten that text from him a few days ago — You down for a date with a nice, cute friend of mine? — he hadn’t known the headache that would ensue when he turned the offer down. Santi refused to tell him who the date was with, asserting that he would love the mystery woman. Unsatisfied with Frankie’s rejection, Santi had hounded him every day since, even going so far as to show up at his house today out of the blue. Frankie had heaved a long-suffered sigh when he saw Santi’s red Jeep pull up his driveway.

“Come on, Fish,” Santi groaned, exasperatedly following Frankie around his dimly lit garage as he worked on his truck. “She’s pretty, she’s funny, she’s bold. I’m telling you, you’ll both hit it off.”

Frankie merely sighed as he sifted around his toolbox for a socket. He hadn’t had much luck in the dating department for years. Either the woman he was with didn’t seem to be that interested in him or it got too awkward as the conversation petered out. The best stories he had were Army stories, but those didn’t tend to go over well with dates. He was a man who was rough around the edges, simple, middle aged, and quieter than most. In short, he didn’t think he was much for anyone to get excited about anyways. He wasn’t the kind of guy that wowed someone on a blind date.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go on the date, it was the fact that he wanted more than a date. He wanted something real. A love that gripped his soul, that left him spinning, that left him losing his bearings. Maybe he wasn’t a sentimental man, but he was a bit of a hopeless romantic at heart. He just didn’t think that any of that stuff was ever meant for him, and that made every failed date even more painful.

In reality, Frankie hated how he felt after every failed date. It tanked his self-esteem more than he cared to admit. He didn’t think he could take it again. It didn’t help that — when it came to dating — Frankie was on the shyer side. Though, maybe that had something to do with the whole self-esteem issue, too. At one point in his life, he had been much more confident in the dating area. However, after a few decades, a couple of failed serious relationships, and plenty of terrible dates, that confidence was quickly waning.

What made it worse was that the woman he really wanted was so unattainable it hurt. Every time he saw you at one of Santi’s cookouts or a night out at the bars, he felt that familiar pang in his chest. You were the opposite of Frankie, so confident and funny and gorgeous. Every time your hand brushed over his arm his heart almost gave out. Every time you smiled, he couldn’t look away. When you were in the room, you were the center of his attention, no matter how hard he tried to pay attention to anything else. The fact was that no other woman on any date had ever made him feel like you did. No other woman was ever you.

It was that thought that had caused him to tell Santi no. He was sure the mystery woman was pretty and funny and whatever else Santi said, but the fact of the matter was that she wasn’t you. It didn’t matter that you didn’t seem to be interested in Frankie like that, he had fallen for you all the same. And now he couldn’t seem to be interested in anyone else.

“What else do I have to say, man?” Santi questioned, practically pleading as Frankie finally closed his hand around the cool metal of the socket he had been looking for.

“Nothing,” Frankie responded, trying not to sound as down as he felt. “It’ll end just like all the others. I’m just not interested.”

He hated to let down his best friend, especially when he seemed so invested in this idea, but it was just too much for Frankie. After his last date, he had deleted all the dating apps from his phone and called it quits. He hadn’t told Santi this both because of how lame he would sound and because he knew that he would try to set him up exactly like this. Santi, being as extroverted as he was, knew a lot of women and once he started setting Frankie up, he wouldn’t stop until Frankie found someone.

What Santi didn’t understand was that he had already fucked up Frankie’s love life enough when he introduced him to you that first night on his back deck. From that moment on, Frankie hadn’t been interested in anyone else. Whoever had come up with the term falling in love had been right because meeting you had felt almost exactly like a helicopter going down in a tailspin. One second, all was fine. The next, he was hurtling toward the ground.

He couldn’t tell Santi that he was madly in love with you either. It would only make things even worse when Santi inevitably meddled. Frankie didn’t think he would survive embarrassment like that, especially when you were much too good for him. Like there was any way in hell you felt the same as he did.

“You’re both so goddamn stubborn,” Santi groaned to himself before taking a breath and pressing at his brow. Frankie slid underneath his truck again and started to work. For a moment, he actually thought he had won this dispute, Santi uncharacteristically quiet as he leaned against the old frame of the truck. But after a beat of silence, Santi sighed and called pointedly, “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I’ve already told her you’ll meet her at seven tonight.”

Without thinking, Frankie leaned up and cried, “You what-?” before promptly smacking his head against the metal above him. He scooted out from under the truck, holding his head and cursing. When he found that he didn’t have any serious injury, he trained his fury on Santi again. “Dude? Seriously?”

Santi, who was holding back from laughing at Frankie’s outburst, simply put his hands up. “I knew you were gonna pull this shit, so I told her you’d already said yes.”

A barrage of questions ran through his mind. Why would you do that? Why didn’t you mention that at the start? How do I get out of this now? However the only question he was able to get out was, “What the fuck, man?”

“You’ve gotta trust me on this one, Fish! You can’t back out now.”

Frankie grumbled, “I never even agreed to be in this.”

Santi simply continued on, seemingly ignoring him at this point. “It’s at that one grill place on the West side of town that Benny likes. You still have that shirt you wore to Benny’s birthday dinner? Wear that one. It’s not too formal but it looks good.”

“Fine. Fine. I’ll do it. But when this goes sideways, it’s on you.”

“When this goes perfectly,” Santi countered, “you better make me best man at the wedding.”

Frankie didn’t know how to tell him that he’d be lucky to even make it through the date, let alone get to anything resembling a relationship.

“You’re really gonna do it?” Santi asked skeptically. “You’re not lying?”

Frankie sighed as he defeatedly tossed his socket back into the open toolbox, letting it loudly clang against the contents of the box. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice in this situation. “Yeah, I’ll do it.”

Santi beamed before clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re gonna thank me for this tomorrow.”

“Sure,” Frankie replied, sarcasm dripping from the word. If anything, he thought he would be embarrassed beyond belief tomorrow after Santi would inevitably ask how it went.

Fuck. Frankie didn’t think he had it in him to go through all the disappointment again. Much less to have his best friend see it.

As Santi went to leave, he yelled over his shoulder, “Oh, and she’s not scared away by Army stories either. I’ve already told her plenty.”

Frankie’s stomach sank. “You didn’t tell her about the time I was drunk in Texas, did you?”

Santi only gave him an evil smile as he continued to back away, shrugging. “She thought it was funny.”

Later that night, Frankie sat at a table at Nino’s Bar & Grill, clad in the blue button-down Santi insisted he wear as he anxiously waited for his mystery date to arrive. In the hours since Santi had first roped him into this date, the man had never stopped texting him about her, all the while keeping her identity a secret. His insistence that this would be the best date ever had Frankie somewhat dreading the ultimate letdown that was coming.

Hell, she was already ten minutes late. Maybe, he thought, she had already spared him from the date by standing him up. It certainly wouldn’t be the worst end to a date that he’d ever had.

Suddenly, a text came through from Santi. Frankie stared at it, reading it again and again but it was just as confusing every time.

Did you seriously think I hadn’t noticed the way you look at her?

After a second, he sent back a simple: What??

He sighed as he looked at his watch again. Maybe he should just go home, crack open a beer, and get back to work on his truck. It didn’t seem like-

“Frankie?”

His attention snapped up from the tabletop to find a gorgeous woman standing above him, the sunset shining through the windows behind her like a colorful halo. She stared at him questioningly, almost in awe.

You. It was you.

He had never thought that those scenes in movies where a guy was tongue-tied seeing a woman was actually something that could happen until his mind was blank and mouth ajar.

Finally, he said your name, practically dumbstruck. “W-what are you doing here?”

You simply laughed sweetly — a beautiful, almost heart-stopping sound. “I, um… I think I may be here for the same reason you are.”

All at once, the reality of everything hit him. Santi. His insistence about this date. The text. Santi knew. He had set this whole thing up because he had known this whole time how Frankie felt about you.

Suddenly, all of Santi’s glowing descriptions of you clicked into place, all of them true and none of them doing you justice. Now, Santi saying that you were pretty felt like a hell of an understatement. He knew that, somewhere, that smug son of a bitch was incredibly proud of himself. Not that Frankie could quite blame him right now.

“Did you know?” Frankie asked, rising from his seat to stand in front of you.

You shook your head. “No. It seems like we were both in the dark here. But… I’m definitely not upset about it now.”

It was at this last part that your eyes met his again, hopeful and searching.

And just like that, in a mere twenty seconds, his whole world tipped on its head. The force of it would have knocked him clean off his feet if he let it — and he nearly did. If he hadn’t already been sure that he was indeed awake, he wouldn’t have quite believed it was really happening. It hit his system like a drug, the new wave of adrenaline filling his head with static. This static wasn’t the absence of thought — not anymore. No, now his head was filled with way too many all at once, each fighting to be heard until there was nothing but chaotic noise.

Then, over it all came a clear fact: you felt the same. Tonight was the chance he never thought he would have. Suddenly, his whole outlook on this date was changed.

“Me, too.” With a small burst of confidence, he admitted, “I… there’s no one else I would’ve wanted to have this with.”

The smile that bloomed on your face was as blinding as the beautiful sunset behind you.

Frankie guided you to your seat, pulling it out for you. Before you sat, you grazed your soft hand across his forearm as you thanked him, the touch sweet and electric.

Remember to fucking breathe, Frankie told himself.

As he made his way back to his seat, you spoke again, “I’m so, so sorry I was late! Traffic was terrible.”

Frankie — who was sure you were worth waiting for — assured you that it was no problem.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was different. You were different from anyone he had ever been on a date with. He couldn’t put a finger on exactly what it was that made you feel so… special.

“So,” he started, trying not to sound as breathless as he felt, “can I buy you a drink?”

You nodded with a smile, giving him a knowing look. “I know you’re a beer man. How about an order for two?”

Goddamn. For the first time in a long time, Frankie felt himself getting his hopes up.

You didn’t think you would ever be able to forgive Santi for this. You had known him for three years and he hadn’t set you up with Frankie like this sooner. All those terrible dates could have been avoided if Santi had just meddled in both of your love lives from the start.

Frankie was ridiculously handsome, endlessly sweet, and not nearly as quiet as he tended to be at Santi’s get-togethers. He had an easy sort of humor, one that was simple yet had you laughing seemingly without even trying. While you had both always just clicked, talking with him tonight made it feel as if you had known each other forever. You were only three hours in and this was already the best date of your life.

The fact that you thought the words only three hours into the date blew your mind. For a long time now, a three hour long date usually had you wishing for the quickest way out. You couldn’t wait to leave the train wreck that it usually was. Now? Three hours didn’t feel like nearly enough. You felt like you were just barely scratching the surface of Frankie, his life, his past. You loved every second you had with him in a way you never thought possible.

You had both quickly fallen into an easy rhythm with each other, all polite questions and light humor. While he was incredibly nice, you never felt as if he was putting on a persona. He was genuine, a trait that was both refreshing and intriguing. With Frankie, what you see is what you get, Santi had once told you. He had been telling the truth. And, damn, you liked what you saw.

Over the hours, your conversation shifted, turning from testing questions into old stories. Frankie, as you already knew, was a great storyteller. Not only was he giving you some seriously embarrassing stories of Santi that had you rolling, he had pictures to back his stories up. For the first time, you were happy to see your date whip out his phone. The pictures were from decades ago and the young, beardless Frankie that looked back from those photos made you smile. He had aged, you mused as you studied his face beside you, like a fine wine. Older and more rugged, but all the more attractive for it.

You slowly slid your chair around to get a better view of his phone inch by inch until you were sat next to him, your thighs touching each other. As he showed you a particularly tame picture of his friends from the army — Santi and the Miller brothers ever present — you could see by the pink that suddenly dusted his cheeks that he was aware of your thigh against his, too. While he didn’t say anything about it, you noticed the way he leaned against you ever so slightly.

He flicked to another photo, one that immediately caught your attention.

“Frankie,” you mused, “You’re so handsome!”

The photo he had flipped to was obviously a more recent one. He stood next to Will, both of them clad in disheveled white button-ups, ties undone around their collars, as they smiled at the camera. An out-of-place weathered ball cap sat on top of Frankie’s head, his curls poking out the bottom. His favorite Standard Oil hat. While out of place, it was fitting for him — a piece that blatantly showed something uniquely him. The final thing that drew your eye, however, was the several undone buttons that led down his front, exposing the tanned plane of his chest.

“Oh. I didn’t- I forgot that was-” he stuttered for a moment. He let out a nervous chuckle before explaining, “This was Will’s wedding. After the wedding, as you can see.”

You smiled. It was endearing the way he had been thrown off guard by this.

“You look ridiculously handsome,” you reiterated, looking at him pointedly.

Frankie flushed under the compliment again, his breathing noticeably picking up. “I- uh- thanks. I had the shirt tailored. And the pants-”

You giggled a bit, drawing his attention to you. Leaning close to his ear, you took a risk as you sweetly whispered, “The suit was nice, but I was talking about you. And the second compliment? I meant that you look ridiculously handsome tonight, too.”

Stunned, he simply held your gaze for a moment, plush pink lips slightly parted as you pulled back to look at him. He looked down at his hands as he mumbled a thank you, a bewildered smile on his lips. Obviously, he wasn’t used to such compliments.

Taking another risk, you brought the tip of your finger to the underside of his chin. Coarse hair tickled your skin as you brought his wide gaze up to yours.

“I mean it,” you assured, your finger dropping so that you could lay it on his shoulder.

“And I mean it when I say you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.” He said it breathlessly, your small gestures seemingly overwhelming his ability to breathe. His eyes were on you, wide and bare. “I thought so the day I met you.”

He feels it, too.

The world was still for a moment, the very air suspended between the two of you. The rest of the restaurant had fallen away, leaving only you and Frankie and the few inches between your lips.

All at once, Frankie locked his phone, abandoned it on the table, brought his hand to your cheek, and kissed you hard.

The world tipped.

Kissing Frankie felt like the drop of a rollercoaster, curling up next to the endless warmth of a fire, the joy of visiting an unknown city. All at once.

The force of it all stole the air from your lungs but you didn’t care. You couldn’t. The rush and hum in your veins wouldn’t let you. All you could think about was the movement of his plush lips against yours as your fingers wound into his curls.

It wasn’t a kiss fit for a first date. Yet, somehow, it felt right. Frankie felt right.

Frankie was the first to break, seemingly as breathless as you were. As your hooded eyes fluttered up to meet his, you found him to be as surprised as you were. He looked at you with a hungry sort of wonder before he blinked, a bit of self-consciousness falling across his features. You hadn’t noticed that he had lost that self-consciousness until it was already taking hold again — and if that was what he was like when it was gone, you wanted to see what he was like when he fully let go.

“S-sorry,” he stammered breathily. “I know that was probably too fast.”

You shook your head earnestly, not wanting to allow that self-consciousness of his to take over again. “Not fast enough.”

Hope flashed in his eyes. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Do you wanna… get out of here?”

You saw Frankie’s eyes go wide and — for a second — thought you had pushed a little too far. But then he was fishing his wallet out of his back pocket as he answered definitively, “I’d love that.”

Now, you could see that same fire that you felt behind his eyes. A fire that filled you with a ridiculous amount of excitement.

He settled the check before you could even offer to pay, but now you were a little more than distracted as butterflies bloomed in your stomach for the first time in a long time.

This wasn’t like you. None of this was like you. You didn’t kiss guys on the first date, much less ask them to bed. Granted, most dates had you running for the door before anything like that could happen, but still. The sentiment stood.

Everything about Frankie was different, though. And the only thing you could really think about right now was having that man under you before the night ended.

When Frankie exited the restaurant with your hand in his, the tension between you two felt like a live wire and his heart was thundering in his chest.

In a quick moment of planning in the parking lot, he found out that the roommate you had mentioned earlier was currently at your place. His place was over a forty minute drive from this restaurant on the other side of the city. While it was doable, it seemed like a lot for how… urgently he needed you.

Just as he was starting to lose hope, your eyes flicked to the side. He watched as you playfully bit your lip, a flash of hope in your eyes. He followed your gaze across the street to see one of the many hotels in the city that he barely paid any mind to.

So that was how he found himself with a key to room 103, your hand in his as he led you through the lobby.

It was all a rushed blur — finding the door, turning the feeble lock on the inside, pressing you against the wall of the small room, your sweet little moans against his mouth. You were all there was.

As much as he had loved your outfit, he liked the sight even more now that you were stripped of it all.

All of his senses were underwater, the world moving too fast for him to keep up. He hadn’t felt like this in a long, long time. He hadn’t wanted to feel like this in a long time. But now, with your fingers twisted into his hair and your body beneath him on the plush mattress, he finally let himself go.

Years ago, Frankie had once been caught in a riptide of the ocean. Having grown up merely a few hours away from the beach, he had known that the current couldn’t be fought. It was too strong, a force of nature one couldn’t hope to go against. It felt a hell of a lot like this. Like you. You had caught him as unsuspecting as the current had that day. Only this time, he didn’t want to get out. He didn’t swim parallel to shore until he could escape your gasp, he only let you drag him out to the depths of an unfamiliar sea.

Frankie’s lips were everywhere. Your lips, your neck, your chest. You closed your eyes, letting the feeling wash over you.

“Frankie,” you whined, voice so breathy you barely recognized it yourself. “Frankie, I need you. I need you right now.”

The warmth of his hand slid up to palm at your breast, his mouth finding yours again.

“You’ve got me,” he assured you, voice deliciously deep and raspy. “I’m yours.”

You would’ve paid more mind to this last part if his free hand hadn’t been sliding down your stomach to your pussy. A gasp escaped you as he toyed with your clit for a moment, rubbing slow circles.

“Fuck, yeah. That’s it,” he mumbled. “You’re so wet already. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

As he leaned down to kiss your neck, you felt him slip a finger into your heat. You grabbed at his back, at his hair, lost in the feeling of him as you clung to him like a lifeline. It was slow at first, testing before he began to build up to a steady pace. Already, it wasn’t enough. You needed so much more.

When you bucked your hips looking for more friction, Frankie said, “I know, I know. You’re just so tight, baby. Gotta work you up.”

Much to your dismay, he pulled his finger out for a moment. Bringing his attention back to your clit, he stopped your protest dead in your throat. Then, he slipped two fingers back into you, resuming his pace from before.

He pushed himself up a little, looking first at your face and then down where you took his fingers with lust-blown eyes. Frankie was still in his boxers, but you could see the prominent outline of his hard cock straining against the black fabric.

“Fuck,” he mused, before slipping a third finger into you. You moaned out his name as the familiar coil began to build in your stomach.

“Frankie…Frankie — fuck, baby — I’m gonna come. I’m gonna-”

Suddenly, the air was stolen from your lungs, your mouth open in a silent scream as your orgasm slammed into you. You clenched around Frankie’s fingers, but he kept going, praising you all the while.

“That’s it. That’s it, hermosa. Ride it out.”

Your orgasm lasted a lifetime, Frankie drawing it out of you for a length of time you hadn’t thought possible. Wave after blissful wave.

When you came down, panting and head spinning, you found Frankie popping his fingers in his mouth, eyes closed and moaning a little as he did.

“You even taste sweet,” he mused.

You giggled, pulling him down to kiss you again. After a moment, you pulled away enough to whisper against his lips, “Need these off, Frankie.”

You lightly tugged at the band of his boxers, giving him a hint.

Frankie threw himself backwards, rushing to push the fabric down his legs and discard it to the floor in whatever direction it decided to go.

Oh. Oh, wow.

To say that Frankie was impressive seemed like an understatement. Already flushed and leaking, his cock was both long and thick.

For the first time in your life, you found yourself saying, “I don’t know if it’ll fit.”

You saw Frankie’s mouth twitch up for a moment. “Now you’re just stroking my ego.”

You pushed yourself up to your knees, scooting over top of Frankie so that you straddled him. In the midst of it, lust replaced the humor on his face. His hands found your waist as you used a hand on his chest to coax him to lay back on the mattress.

“I’ll do a little more than just stroke it,” you promised.

“Fuck,” Frankie breathed, almost to himself. Bringing your hand to his cock, you teased him with a few testing pumps. He tipped his head back against the bed, groaning as you ghosted the tip of your thumb over the head. With a deep baritone, he pleaded, “God, baby, please.”

How could you deny that? You couldn’t even hold yourself back anymore.

You guided him to your entrance before slowly lowering to take him. It was a stretch, one that felt overwhelming and all too good at the same time. Frankie’s hands found your hips, a string of encouraging praises falling from his lips as he watched you take every inch of him with laser-like focus.

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed, disheveled and wrecked as he looked up at you. “I knew you could take all of me. Goddamn, you feel so good.”

You felt so unbelievably full. Suddenly, the ability to speak had been stolen from you, replaced with the simple need for friction.

You rocked your hips, earning a hiss from Frankie as his fingertips gripped your hips for dear life. Slowly, you built your pace as you rode him. He was so deep, you never knew it could feel like this. Soon enough, you had a good pace.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The rhythmic noise was in the background at first, lost to the sound of your and Frankie’s moans and grunts. But then you realized how close it was.

Frankie read the confusion on your face immediately. “The bed,” he explained, panting. “The shitty bed’s hitting the wall.”

Oh. It was obvious now, but your brain was underwater, your only concern being the unbelievable man beneath you. But there was a small part of your brain somewhere in the haze that was still rational that knew the last thing you needed right now was hotel management knocking on your door after a complaint.

“Floor,” Frankie offered, seemingly on the same page. “It’ll be easier on the floor.”

After a brief moment to relocate, you were once again on top of Frankie, your knees against the cheap, rough carpet as you rode him without abandon. He was lost in it, switching between letting his eyes roll back and needing to watch you. To praise you.

“Fuck, yes, baby. This pussy’s so perfect. You’re so perfect.” He was babbling, but you loved it. A sense of urgency, of longing lurked in his tone.

You panted and cursed, so close to the edge but not quite able to get there. “Frankie. Baby, I need more.”

Frankie’s eyes snapped up to your face, a new sort of darkness to his eyes. His hand came to your back to brace you against him before he flipped you both, your back meeting the carpet. Now, he loomed over you as he kissed you deeply. Right as he pulled his lips away from yours, he gave a sharp, hard thrust into you. You cried out, scrambling to scratch at his back in an attempt to find purchase. Again and again, he drove into you, making a devastating pace.

His pants fanned across your lips, seemingly lost in the feeling of you. “Yeah, that’s it. That’s it. Fuck… baby — fuck — I’m close. Need you to come. Come for me, cariño.”

If you had the ability to speak anymore, you would’ve told him that you were right there, teetering on the edge.

With a few more thrusts, you toppled over. The sounds you made were obscene as ecstasy took over.

“Where do you want it, baby?” Frankie rasped desperately. “I need you… I need you to tell me.”

“Inside,” you gasped.

“Fuck. You’re so fuckin’ good, baby,” Frankie cooed in your ear. “Ah. So fuckin’ tight. Squeezin’ me so good. I’m- I’m gon-”

He didn’t finish his sentence before he was driving himself deep and releasing into you. His mouth fell open as he rode it out, grinding into you.

When he was completely spent, he let himself sag down a little above you, his head dropping as he tried to catch his breath. Every moment or so, he would let out a beautiful little ah sound, especially as he pulled out of you.

For the second time that night, you brought your pointer finger underneath his chin and slowly guided him to look at you. You caught the enamored look in his eyes a moment before you leaned up to kiss him. Slowly, meaningfully.

Against his lips, you said, “God, Frankie, if I would’ve known that you liked me, too… or that we could’ve been doing this all this time…”

Frankie gave an incredulous laugh, pulling back to look at you. “Like you? I’ve been crazy about you since the day we met.”

You laughed, looking at the ceiling for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “Me, too! I hadn’t been able to stop staring at you the entire cookout that day.”

“I wanted to ask you out then,” he admitted, his brown eyes earnest. “And every time we saw each other afterwards. I always talked myself out of it.”

“I would’ve said yes,” you assured.

Frankie ran a thumb over your cheek. “Think it’s too soon to ask you on a second date?”

You giggled against him, feeling his body shake against yours as he laughed, too. “Not soon enough. How does Wednesday night sound?”

“Perfect. I hope it’s not too crude to say that I hope it ends a lot like tonight did.”

You patted his tanned chest, giving him a knowing smile. “Let’s pick a restaurant closer to your place, then.”

#frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #frankie morales x you #francisco catfish morales #pedro pascal #triple frontier fanfiction #santi garcia #santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #my writing

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davinashifts333 · 1 year ago

Text

DATING CHOI SAN PT. 1:

⚫️summary; this shall be what i believe my first post for ATEEZ my loves in honor of the final EP. of “The World” albums! Here is some seriously much needed and thought about Sannie Boi headcanons i have for you all. mucho love, STREAM CRAZY FORM! also reader is also famous so not a nonidol au or whatever, we ALL famous here bitch. STRESM CRAZY FORM!

⚠️warnings; iNsAnE fLuFf, some smutty topics, swearing, San, because he is too beautiful for us to handle, etc.

•

-Dating THE insanely talented, superbly gifted, (insert Lady Gaga meme) astonishing, loving & handsome Choi “TINY MOUNTAIN” San is something you never expected.

-he is super flirty when you first meet at some random awards show/dinner & a bit tipsy at this point but once HongJoong exchanges numbers with you, you expect to hear from him soon.

-ironically, or maybe not, you hear from San first & it’s basically him apologizing for being too forward & making you feel uncomfortable or anything to which you giggle at & accept his apology but also admit, you found it cute.

-he offers to take you out for coffee, ramen or whatever you like to get to know each other better & you agree.

-after coffee you guys walk around & just click so easily that time flies by. laughing & vibing, you end up walking to a near by convenience store & notice your similar yet completely different taste in snacks. one sweet, one salty, one nostalgic & a drink.

-taking the snacks, you go to the han river, suns down, people are out at street markets, etc.

-he begins asking more about you, the deeper shit & you feel so safe & comfortable that you do the same.

-complimenting one another on your respective areas of work & realizing you both are fans of one another.

-he can’t keep his eyes OR hands off of you, with consent of course, he is so shy & different from the one stage demonic talent he is that you find it endearing.

-his nervous little tics make you smile the same way yours make him find you even more adorable, if possible.

-he asks so many questions & ends up giving you his sweatshirt because it’s a bit chilly.

-loves your smile & how open you are about your life, career, passions & everything but mainly loves how great of a listener you are.

-apologizes for rambling but you quickly tell him to continue, that you like listening to him talk & he simply grabs your hand & continues with a huge goofy smile on his face.

-rants about the other band mates & tells you about everything he dreams of with them.

-you guys eventually end up lying on the ground next to a gorgeous tree & the conversation slowly gets deeper.

-he sheepishly admits he’s had a crush on your for a while but rever knew if he would meet you & how embarrassed he was when HongJoong & Mingi exposed his drunken antics.

-you giggle at how he described his mindset in that moment as “I needed to impress you but I ended up not even remembering the photo we took, which is now my screensaver.”

-mah boi id CRUSHING MAD HARD. but! when you admit he was your crush wayyy before you even became famous, he loses it.

-you show him the photo card you have of him from an impulse buy of their latest album & he smiles even bigger, if possible (most likely not, his cheeks were sore the next day from how hard he was cheesin).

-if you’re a musician as well he asks you what your inspirations are & what your concepts are leading towards (if you work in something else he asks questions to learn more about it a.e. you.)

-he walks you back to your apartment after realizing it’s damn near 2am & you guys left like at 6-7pm.

-“i’m so sorry i took up most of your day off, i bet you have to be up early tomorrow. get some rest.” he mumbles & you giggle, kissing his cheek after giving him a tight hug.

-“i can actually wake up whenever i please tomorrow but, your schedule is probably packed so maybe you should get going. i had a great time & hope we could do this again?” you question batting your eyes at him, flirting just to see those adorable cheeks pink up again & he simply nods excitedly hugging you tighter, placing a little kiss to your cheek in return.

-your both so engulfed in the moment that you take your time letting go but, when you both pull away from the hug he gives you a cute little bow & holds your door for you before heading back to spill to his dorm mates.

-he texts you as soon as he walks through the door to his room & you guys end up making lunch plans for the following day.

-from that day on you guys are together as much as you can be due to your busy schedules.

-the other ATEEZ boys love you entirely & gush about how awesome you are & how humble & giving but mainly talented & beautiful you are.

-they tell you all about Sannie’s crush & how he always kept tabs on what you were up to but lose it when you admit he was also your crush.

-they all cackle & torment you jokingly after seeing the photo card in the back of your phone case.

-you practically become their baby sister & end up at the dorms whenever you have time off.

-movie nights with OT8 are a must once or even twice a week.

-your first kiss is after the first official date aka the 2nd time you guys hang out.

-he is so gentle with you & so affectionate that you genuinely think you’re going to explode from how attracted you are to one another.

-Sannie officially asks you to be his girlfriend after a month of being so absolutely head over heels.

-the emotional & physical attraction just grows from there. you guys become practically inseparable.

-fans begin to see you guys together more & more & your fans absolutely love it knowing that he was your crush for a while.

-ATINY however, are like fina-FUCKING-lly because they always saw him name you as his ideal type or even give hints that he was a fan of yours on lives.

-your fan bases are so supportive & loving of your guys’ relationship & do their absolute best to block out the haters (which are there but your fans are better)

-Sannie buys you plushies & gives you his sweatshirts all the time.

-you buy HIM plushies & new sweatshirts for you to steal back later all the time.

-he is 10000000% an ass & thighs man so he has hands on you 24/7.

-is very emotionally & physically affectionate but, so understanding & caring that you genuinely feel like your in the worlds healthiest relationship.

-even when you guys argue (which is usually over stupid shit) you settle it & fix it in MINUTES because he simply cannot imagine life without you now that he has you.

-Wooyoung & Mingi are your children. always with you guys & join you & Sannie for breakfast, lunch & dinner all the time.

-Sannie takes you to meet his family & visit his hometown of Namhae about 3 months in & you click with his mom so well.

-Byeol becomes yours because she does not leave your side whenever you’re around. San admits he had to print out a picture of you so she could stop meowing in the middle of the night from how much she missed you.

-he buys you a Shiber Jr. & says that he must travel with you everywhere so you can have a piece of him like he has Shiber Sr. (yes he chose to add the Jr. & Sr. for specification during convos about said plushies).

-to end part 1 (because i’m at work & have an hour left & am so exhausted i might pass out) Sannie is PEAK boyfriend material.

•

A/N; LET ME KNOW WHO I SHOULD DO NEXT FROM ATEEZ, I AM ALL FOR WRITING ABOUT THEM & TAKING RECOMMENDATIONS/ETC. ATINY!!!!! LETS GET OUR BOYS UP IN THESE CHARTS!! STREAM THE COMEBACK!! STREAM CRAZY FORM!! STREAM ATEEZ PERIOD.. or be unalived.. jk jk.. ✌🏼👀🔪

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drewsbuzzcut · 2 years ago

Note

Some visceral-in-doses angst

Words We Don’t Mean

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses blurb

warnings: angst, cuss words, pregnancy

“Should we get married?”

Mat breaks the silence, also breaking you out of your light sleep. You were both in bed, trying to sleep because it was really late. Now that you’re further in your pregnancy, sleep doesn’t come so easy as it once did. You were almost fully asleep, but his question was enough to wake you up.

“What?” You ask.

“We should get married, shouldn’t we? I mean you’re about to have our baby,” he rants.

“Is that your idea of a proposal?” You question, voice laced with annoyance.

You couldn’t believe this was something he was thinking of.

“No, I’m just asking if you think we should get married because we’re having a baby,” he says.

“Are you hearing the words coming out of your mouth?”

You sit up so you can glare at him.

“What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? Mathew, you’re basically saying that the ONLY reason we should get married is because we’re having a baby,” you spit out.

You know it’s mostly because of your hormones being crazy, but you could feel the tears starting to sting in your eyes. The lump in your throat sits there heavily. Your hands gravitate to your bump, feeling an overwhelming need to protect your baby.

“Well it’s not the only reason, obviously. You’re just trying to put words in my mouth,” he accuses.

“No, I’m not. Just the other month we were talking about marriage, and you said that you weren’t ready to get married. I was completely fine with your answer. I feel the same way, so you saying that we should get married is honestly bullshit,” you say, trying to remain calm, but your voice starts to rise.

You caught him in his little lie, and you weren’t going to let him get away with it.

“Fine, but why is it bad if I’m just asking you.? It’s not like I’m demanding for us to get married right now!”

Your tears start to fall, frustrated that he’s not being considerate of how his words might make you feel.

“Why did you feel the need to even ask?”

“Some of the guys were just talking about their lives, and it just made me think about how we aren’t married, but having a baby,” he explains.

“Since when do any of us care what other people think?”

He just shrugs, staying silent because he’s afraid of saying something else wrong.

“I don’t think we should get married just because we’re having a baby, unlike you, I want to marry somebody because I actually love them and want to spend forever with them,” you sob out.

“I swear I didn’t-“ Mat tries to bring you into his arms, but you get off the bed and cut off his sentence.

“Don’t bother. I can’t be around you right now,” you say through sniffles, grabbing your pillow and throw blanket so you can sleep somewhere else.

a/n: To whoever requested this, I’m sorry it’s so late, but hope you enjoy it!

pt. 2

#mat barzal #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal smut #mat barzal angst #nhl imagine #nhl fic #new york islanders #visceral in doses

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cursedcola · 10 months ago

Text

TWST: The Hall Of Mirrors - Baby Update, January 24’

ART:

Guys I don’t think I’m going to be able to put art in the game because I lack a tablet. As much as I want to, it would require making *way* too many images.

So, I’m making the TW game a pure piece of interactive fanfiction as a text-based game only. I’ve poured so many hours into it and I think I would rather go extend the plot/add on details so you can visualize it rather than stress anymore about putting art in. I know I said previously that I was taking time off from it, but I actually spent a good chunk of my free time last month trying to get art to scan in. Twine does not like imagery. No, no it does not.

So I’m just going to take a wee bit more time and make the plot more detailed. I also really want to get back to writing more here >_<

PLOT:

Like I said, I’m taking more time to add in detail. Without art I feel that it needs more to make the visuals pop.

AUDIO:

I haven’t given up on this bit quite yet. Since this is a fan game that isn’t getting monetized or anything, I don’t feel the need to make original music. I’ll see if I can find anything I like enough to fit the vibes

~ On that note, this is the last written update I’m giving. I might post some pictures when I feel it's in a good place, or ask if anyone would like to test the game out (catch any technical errors or bugs)….but yeah, I’m pretty much done now? I think? Hard to believe I’ve slowly been writing this since July. It’ll be weird to not work on it anymore, but also nice since I want to write other things hehe. I will say that this is the biggest thing I have ever made for any fandom, and I hope it's something I can look back on fondly.

(Small rant below about the art because I’m me and my perfectionism demands I offer an explanation)

Like, I did the math and it just isn’t feasible to do with what I have sadly. The game was going to have 15cgs for each route’s climax. I also got a bit crazy and even did base sketches for 15 cga for the after endings without really thinking about how rough it was going to be. You can customize your Mc by their clothing, body size, eye color, hair length and color, and hair type. If I had a tablet then I could make a singular CG as the base, and then basically make a bunch of copies where I make small changes so that the proper combination will pop up depending on the choices you made. It would have took a long time but I could have done it - although using a quick combination showed that there were hundreds of different possible combinations.

I mean, there are 2 clothing options, 4 body types, 8 eye colors, 4 hair types, 4 hair lengths, and i think 6 hair colors if I remember right. I also put in customization features that have you answer Q’s that I can’t predict to edit the cg with. Regardless that’s 2X4X8X4X4X6 = 6,144 possible combinations for ONE cg. That’s kind of rough even with a tablet, so without one is just like…death. It would be 2x4x4x4 = 128 different iterations of the image (as things that are not just color changes that can be quickly altered). That’s 128 versions of 15 images. That’s 1,920 drawings. Even if they were going to be in a very simple artstyle, heck even a sketch, it’s not feasible.

I love Otomes and have always wanted to play one where your customized MC is featured in the cgs. Making a game like that is one of my life goals - but not for a fan game. If I’m doing that then it’s going to be an original work.

I’m sorry for hyping it up and making false promises. I really did want to make it happen for my mini fangame, but this is kinda just my little side project and stressing over it was zapping the fun away. So now we’re going back to plan A and just sticking to a text game >_<

#twst otome update #TWST: The Hall Of Mirrors #update #this is the last update i’m making

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renenene · 6 months ago

Text

Author’s notes at the end :) first fanfic!! Yippee!!

I’m Sorry for You

4.2k words

The title is a song lyric from “ILYIS pt 2” by Mel Bryant & the Mercy Makers

Things I’d put if I ever posted to ao3 !!

Tags:

Many POC and LGBTQ+ headcanons among other things, quirk shenanigans, angst but not too bad ig, POV switching, Bakugo Katsuki swears a lot, Class 2-A, Sero speaks Spanish (yell at me if it’s wrong I’ll probably have my friend translating), Bakugo Katsuki likes to learn languages to fuck with Deku, Bakugo Katsuki natural talent frfr, PTSD for all, post war arc except I stopped watching after s5 and know everything mostly by fandom and friends ranting at me but I’m reading the manga currently, everybody lives/nobody dies, except AFO, we’re getting creative with the Bakugo nicknames, Bakugo in therapy, dekusquad are the real menaces, hero internships, the new class 1-A maybe, smoking weed/weed mentions, panic attacks, dissociation, let Deku stop being an innocent baby, let Deku be a teenager, let Katsuki be a dork, I believe in class 2-A having lives and real trauma responses ☝️

Characters:

Class 2-A, Katsuki Bakugo, Izuku Midoriya, Mina Ashido, Eijiro Kirishima, Sero Hanta, Shouto Todoroki, Himiko Toga, Cammie, original OCs probably as background characters idk

Relationships:

Midoriya Izuku/Bakugo Katsuki, past Midoriya Izuku/Ochako Uraraka, background Mina Ashido/Cammie subplot, Ochako Uraraka/Himiko Toga subplot, minor Mirko/Shigaraki, minor Sero Hanta/Todoroki Shouto subplot, Platonic Ochako Uraraka/Katsuki Bakugo, minor Kyoka Jiro/Yaoyorozu Momo subplot

Blurb ig??

Katsuki Bakugo has cheated death nearly three times at this point. Sludge incident, Kamino incident, the goddamn war. He doesn’t gamble with his life or anything. Villains just seem to love him. If it were up to Katsuki, his life would never be played with.

That's gonna change real quick, though. You’d be crazy to think he’ll accept that after so much goddamn struggle in so little time, it’s Izuku’s ass that’s the only thing pumping his heart. Katsuki is cool with Izuku. He even trusts him. Still, if Katsuki can’t control anything, he needs to at least be able to control his own self.

Yeah, Katsuki’ll cheat death again. Fourth time’s the charm.

Chapter 1 ——————————————

4:48 AM, Friday / Katsuki Bakugo

The sun isn’t up yet, thank God. There’ll be no first year, dumbfuck extras to ogle me on my morning run. I can enjoy my quiet peace — even if the weather is getting a bit too cold for my liking.

Already, I’ve got a tracksuit on in seconds and I’m making record time. If I can get my hair down without problems, then I might be able to sneak some time at the gym. All that’s left is to fix my hair.

My drawer comes open with a roll. My hair clips are usually at the forefront. Usually. I put them at the front every night. I damn sure know where I put my shit.

…

Where the fuck are my clips?

8:21 AM / Izuku Midoriya

The days were long. The days were hard. And this day in particular was filled with— BOOM! There’s that same crackling noise everyone is all too familiar with by now. You’d think things would change after a year.

But no.

This is worse than usual.

Much, much worse.

Whoops and cheers arise, shouting “Go! Go! Catch ‘im!” A chopping hand makes its best attempt at distracting the instigating crowd, but only succeeds for half a second before the eyes are glued back onto the affair like a brand new fridge magnet.

“Encouraging violent behavior is not heroic cond— Bakugo-San!” Our beloved but prickly class president yelps as an almost impressively minute AP shot goes whizzing over his perfectly styled head. “No quirks in the classroom!”

“It ain’t a classroom until hygenically-challenged-Sensei gets here!” Kacchan sneers his usual sneer as he readies his hand to flick. “Until that infestation of a man wiggles his way in this room, this place is my battlefield. And just like the war— I ain’t losin’!”

“Badmouthing our sensei after he—“

“Take a joke, glasses,” Kaminari leans into the stickler’s side, purring. “Kacchan respects Aizawa-Sensei probably the most out of all of— FUCK!!”

“Language!”

Kacchan’s hand sizzles just the slightest bit from recoil from the shot that narrowly missed Kaminari’s ear. “That’s for making me sound all soft.”

“Kacchan, he was defending y—“

“You better pray there’s someone to defend your ass.” The blond swivels around with the quickness of a top-of-his-class war veteran, which he is, but no one would say to his face lest his head get somehow even bigger.

I gulp. This commotion has been going on all morning. Everyone knows Kacchan isn’t really going to hurt anyone but… he looks like he’s fighting urges.

Sero sits up ever so slowly. His eyes are bloodshot like he’s done a pretty amount of weed before classes, and he probably has. For God’s sake, it’s barely eight in the morning. UA is definitely a stressful place to be, but soon-to-be heroes shouldn’t be doing drugs.

Another small AP shot sounds, and I glow the slightest bit green to dodge it, landing star-shaped like a startled cat in the upper right corner of the back of the mangled classroom. The place looks like a tornado tore through it with the way the desks are all skewed. Some were moved so my classmates could watch the entertainment, chewing on snide comments and muffled giggles as toppings to Yaomomo’s popcorn. It’s like a tiny gladiator fight is going on, and the lion has eaten my sword.

A gladiator fight that Kacchan still won’t win. It’s only because he’s not able to go one hundred percent with this whack a mole stuff ‘cause he’ll mess up the room. However, fucking around is the only way he’ll ever find out how to land a hit on me.

“What did he even do?” Sero drawls, pointing his exasperation at a snarling Kacchan, palms popping with learned restraint. And oh, that restraint is going through a popping pop quiz of a test right now.

He has no clips in his hair. As of late, he had his hair clipped down over his eye like some 2000s emo, minus the scene extensions.

“I don’t have to tell a shitty extra jack shit,” he growls out, a menacing smile turning menacing scowl. It was an expected reaction, really. He always bristles when people get all in his business. And yet, class 2-A is nothing if not always in all his business, if you couldn’t tell by even the most outwardly innocent and responsible eyes being on the commotion as well.

Sero stalks closer with a yawn, a few paces behind him. He's not a step in front, still, out of habit I suppose. Kacchan has eased up a lot with the war. War seems to mature people, everyone here, really. But during his moments of irrational rage, his little aspects of tyranny bubble up like a bad reaction. The reaction he gives Sero, a fast side eye, seems like that sort of steaming an almost boiling pot of water will do before it erupts, leaking water into the ready and waiting flame beneath it.

“You don’t have to tell me ‘jack shit’, sure.” Sero shrugs, most likely unaware that his life is in jeopardy because of the weed in his system. An angry Kacchan is a prickly Kacchan. As much as Sero needs to diffuse the situation for his poor, poor beauty sleep before class, he also shouldn’t want to be put to rest for good. I personally want all my friends graduating without any tombstones for us to plant. “But,” Sero continues, drawling again just so Kacchan can at least focus his annoyance away from me and towards Sero, “we always figure out what dumbass—“

“Language,” Iida peeps out, a low volume I didn’t know his voice was capable of reaching.

“—what stupid thing you fight Midoriya for. Eventually, anyway. So just speed the process already.”

A slow hand turns to aim, palm up and popping, right at his temple.

“‘You tryna call me a dumbass?”

“Lang—“

From the corner of my eye, I catch a mesmerized Uraraka pat Iida for him to lean back. A calm, or at least calm looking Kacchan, is the worst Kacchan of them all.

Over the years there were grumpy Kacchan’s, raging Kacchan’s, stressed Kacchan’s, exhausted Kacchan’s, Kacchan’s in denial— when was he not?— and right now, a calm, almost crazed Kacchan. Of all the Kacchan’s our class seemed to learn how to wiggle our way into the graces of tolerance he had stowed beyond a seemingly less and less penetrable fortress as the days blended, calm Kacchan’s grace looked to lie in another plane of existence.

For, this is a Kacchan that smiled. Easy and small and uncanny. He may make many threats, but it’s been years since he’s looked so genuinely murderous.

“What I’m tryna do is keep you from getting detention for the third time this month. You’re on a weekly basis at this point.”

It’s almost a relief to see Kacchan stop smiling, but that threatening hand moves not one inch down.

“Who told you to care? Hah? Is your name glasses now? Or ponytail? Nah, you’re tape face. So stay in your lane and quit worryin’, jackass.” The two others in question bristle at their mention, but otherwise make no other reaction. Sero’s reaction, however, is to raise a brow.

“So they’re allowed to worry?”

“No, you— what!?— They’re not allowed to worry,” he grits out. “It’s what they do, and it’s what you don’t.”

This is when Mina pipes up, chief instigator of the onlookers. “Mido-Chan—“ she points frantically to the door— “is gone!”

Her impish grin almost grows past her cheeks at the same time that Kacchan’s explosions pop dangerously close to Sero’s face.

Luckily, that’s when Aizawa-Sensei literally rolls in and suddenly the desks are put together by the time he’s upright. Noticeably still in that horrendous banana yellow caterpillar sack, but upright nonetheless.

“Will someone tell me why Midoriya-San was full cowling down the hall?” He drones, already too done to even fathom the possible answers.

A hand shoots up, and it’s no surprise that it’s Iida’s.

“Bakugo-San and Midoriya were having a bit of a scuffle—“

“Again?” He interrupts, just annoyed at the common occurrence at this point.

“Yes, sensei.”

“That’s the third time this month.” Kacchan sucks his teeth at the remark. “Earphone Jack, Creati.” The bloodshot, dried eyes of the insomniac glance between the two in question. “You both work well together. Find the problem child before the bell rings. If you can do that, I’ll give an extra 5 credits to your participation grade for today. However, lost time won’t be made up. Rendezvous with your friends. Heroes don’t have time to ‘make up’ their missions.”

Yaomomo is the first to raise her hand, face scrunched in objection. “Sensei—“

“Unfortunately for whatever you have to say, heroes are not able to decline calls to action if they’re able, either. Imagine a mother’s child dying because you dawdled.”

Him and finding the oddest times to give some strangely amazing advice. He’s not wrong, but he’s definitely twisting the system so he doesn’t have to go searching himself. The man is on a prosthetic leg though.

It’s not until thirty minutes later the three of us return, heaving a stick, leaf, and splinter ladled me by my shoulders.

“S-sorry, sensei.” I bow my head, nervously smiling. By the quiver of my lip, any other person might’ve thought I was about to laugh. But this is class 2-A. They know I’m on the verge of tears with anxiety.

Aizawa-Sensei does nothing but pinch his nose bridge and groan. “Just sit.”

And this class begins, Bakugo sending the occasional calculated glance at Midoriya.

12:13 PM / Katsuki Bakugo

“Dude! You freaked! I mean— more than usual! Like— this was going crazy! It was entertaining as hell—“

“You almost got your ear exploded off,” Sero interrupts the honey haired boy with a small snicker.

“You did too! And well, yeah, that wasn’t entertaining.” He deflates at the memory but perks right up when he gets back to storytelling. Y’know, as if they were not literally there.

Kaminari blabbers on and on, throwing in the odd joke or two about how Izuku slipped away like the fucking Pink Panther with the way he tip toed. Like I was one of those red light laser systems, poised to go off at any moment if you only breathed in the wrong way.

Of course I fucking would. That asshole knows what he’s got comin’, going through my shit. He shouldn’t be so damn surprised I was ready to leave him in tatters. I would disintegrate him with my eyes if I could. The ones that were currently downcast and staring into nothing.

Kirishima leans forward a little from his side of the lunch table, across from me, to tap the space in my view. It’s one quick tap. He knows it’ll get my attention ‘cause I hate it when people do it. It’s as if they’re treating me like a dog, tapping in front of me. Makes me wanna bite their finger off and show them a real bitch. Still, the tap is light enough that the others continue to be too deep in gossip land to notice whatever we’re about to say.

“You good?”

My airhead expression falls right back into a scowl.

“I’m as good as someone with detention can be.” I’d punch his highlighter head if I didn’t like him so much. Tolerated him more than others, at least.

“How long’s it this time?”

“An hour after school. ‘Said I gotta watch Eri ‘cause he knows I hate it.”

“What else?”

I narrow my eyes, leaning closer to Kirishima. “What’s it to you?” The fucker doesn’t pry, thank God. Why’s he doing it now?

“I’m worried.” He shrugs as if it’s normal. “You keep getting in detention.”

My narrowed eyes go to slits by the time I'm finished blinking. “Yeah, well, it’s my business if I do. Not any of yours.”

He only folds his arms and leans back, scoffing. “It’s plenty my business, dear ol’ Kats—“

“Quit calling me that, Jaws,” I grit out. He knows I hate that dumbass nickname. For one—it’s way too cutesy for my liking. ‘Kats’. I don’t have fucking paws. I am not a cat. And if I were, I’d scratch your face and vomit on you before you can say “Kah”.

Nonetheless, he continues. “You’re my friend. I don’t surround myself with people who aren’t manly, and people who aren’t manly go to detention.”

“‘You callin’ me a loser?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“People who aren’t manly are losers to you, stoplight. I ask again: ‘You callin’ me a loser?”

“The point is stop going to detention.” I roll my eyes. Okay, so he’s calling me a loser. Maybe going to detention isn’t very cool.

“And I don’t mean skipping, just in case you get ideas— even though I know you wouldn’t,” he says, for no reason, might I add. I wouldn’t skip classes unless there was a literal life threatening situation.

“Now, here’s your cookie.” He stuffs a spicy, sweet wafer in my mouth, watching with content as I shift from getting ready to blow his head off to being pacified by the combo of flavors.

Todoroki whisks by at that convenient moment, holding a book open. He looks so similar to Izuku, furiously taking notes once he sees even the slightest noteworthy thing. He’s even got his tongue stuck out to the side as Izuku usually does. Speaking of, what the hell noteworthy thing am I doing right now? “That cookie looks good.” And there goes my answer.

“The recipe’s homemade!” Kirishima chimes.

“Ooh, Kiri, can I have one?” Sero’s practically eating one with his eyes. “Just one nibble or something?”

Mina’s next in line to whine. “Yeah, c’mon, don’t hog!”

“Okay, okay!”

The mention of food has officially brought the other oafs into our conversation. He passes a cookie around to everyone, halting at Kaminari, who seriously cannot take spicy shit at all.

“Why can’t you ever make something normal?”

I lick the crumbs off my fingers, noticing Kirishima grin hard enough for his big cheeks to hurt. Yeah, the cookies are good. Whatever.

“Why can’t you grow some balls, dunceface?”

The others snicker, all except Todoroki.

“But doesn’t Kaminari already have—“

“Nevermind!” Mina pipes up before he can ruin a good joke.

I snag another wafer-cookie whatever the fuck and look up at Mr. Pill. “What’re you doing here anyway?”

“I’m taking notes on that cookie. You mentioned there was a recipe, Kirishima.”

He nods.

Todoroki blinks once. Twice. “Can I have it?”

“You bake!?” Sero bursts, lips pulled in a wide smile. He’s too enamored to realize he’d completely overshadowed Ei and the fact that he was supposed to answer.

“I didn’t know Todo-Chan baked!” Pinky’s hands smack on the table to prop herself up in all her excitement. “You and Sato-Chan should totally bake together sometime. It’d be a flavor party!”

“I thought you’d like bland stuff.” Kaminari is surprisingly less energy filled than the others, instead just curious.

“Baking’s super manly, man!” Kirishima shouts.

Todoroki just shrugs at all their enthusiasm.

“My friends like sweets, so I learned.”

“Well, this ain’t sweet.” I take a large chomp from another cookie. “‘S spishee,” I growl through the mush in my mouth.

“My friends like spice as well.”

That makes all of us raise our brows. Todoroki’s friends like spice? As in— Iida, who’s a stickler for just a chip as opposed to something with “nutritional value”? Midoriya who’s eyes water after “too much” ketchup? Uraraka who… to be honest, she can handle her spice, but can’t take a taki. She’s probably at “spicy” Doritos level.

Sero hooks an arm around Todoroki’s shoulders and grins, small and sly. “Ah, I get it. We’re your friends.” The oh’s on Mina and Kaminari’s face are almost immediate.

“I never said I was peppermint’s friend.” I grumble. The dumbasses continue with their cooing and I continue emptying Kirishima’s container.

“You wanna make cookies for us, Todo?” Mina purrs, cozying up to the boy’s other side. Her eyes bat all coaxing-like.

“No,” he glances down at her, and it takes her a second to realize he’s not being smart with her. Just being as socially inept as he usually is. “You guys are my friends, but they’re not for you.”

“Oh.” Sero and Mina glance between each other, but Kirishima’s the first to ask the big question.

“Who’re you makin’ ‘em for?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t tell?” Dunceface and Elbows ask in unison.

“I can’t tell.”

“Sometimes I just wanna mangle your stupid, inexpressive mug— the shitheads wanna know why, you dumbass,” I grumble.

The dumbass in question blinks, and nods. “I can’t tell.” We all collectively groan. “I can’t.” And the boy shrugs.

“You can’t tell us why you want a spicy cookie recipe and you can’t tell us why you can’t tell us you…” Kaminari freezes, brows pinched. “What was I saying again, Kiri? I-I was definitely saying something— I know it made sense.”

“Mhm.” The redhead snickers at his best friend—but I’m really the best friend ‘cause I’m the best in everything—and replies in kind. “He can’t tell us why he wants the cookie recipe, or why he can’t tell us why he can’t tell us he needs the recipe.”

Kaminari’s eyes are wide as he hugs his own sides, so Sero offers him a pat on the back as consolation. I guess I'd pat him too, if I only I hadn’t turned my hearing aids down. Yeah, hearing aids. Setting off explosions only a few feet from your ears since the age of four does that to you.

“You’re correct, Kirishima. Now, the recipe? Please.”

He nods with the widest smile. “I can text it to you before the day ends. Probably before training with All Might.”

“Anytime before Saturday is a good time.”

Saturday? I perk up. I’m allowed to be fucking nosy. “What’s happenin’ Saturday?”

“Uh…” Uh? Since when was Todoroki capable of saying uh? “I wanna buy the products as soon as possible. For my friend.”

I freeze, eyes narrowing at my Tupperware. It was then that we’d all had the same thought, but Mina was the first to voice it. “Frien—“ Sero’s tape shoots to cover her mouth at a practiced speed. “Mm!! Mm, hm!?” She squeals, and he shakes his head with an eerily serious grimace.

“If you’ll text me the recipe, then I don’t have a reason to be here anymore.” Todoroki bows at a right angle. “Please excuse my interr—“ is that a blush on his goddamn ears?

Kirishima’s the one who covers Kaminari’s mouth when he almost makes the mistake of commenting on it.

Half n’ half stalks away, cradling that book of secrets. Just when he’s out of earshot— “America has a problem.” I lean in, narrowing my eyes at each of my tolerable twits.

Mina, Sero, Kirishima, and Kaminari are sat back down and huddled in, already ready to conspire.

“No shit he does. Look at the way he walked off. Like that book was treasure!” Sero whisper-shouts, throwing his hands around.

“I didn’t even know Todo-Chan was capable of blushing!”

Kirishima shushes Mina for being a bit too loud, then ducks right back into our little circle. “Bakugo and Sero are right though. He was totally suspicious. I mean, yeah, we’re all Uber closer now after the…”

“You know,” Kaminari murmurs.

“Yeah, that.” Kirishima takes a shuddering breath at the memories. Bloody and grave. “Anywho, yeah, we’re close. But no one just walks up with a notebook for a reason as small as spicy cookies. I didn’t even tell anybody I made them.” He folds his arms and scoffs. “It’s like the guy knew or something. He couldn’t have had a notebook ready that damn fast.”

“He couldn’t have. But a freckled fuck I know keeps at least one paper and pen on deck at all times.” I pointedly glance behind myself, and their eyes follow that glance. The… “dekusquad”—God, do I hate that that’s what we’re calling them now—don’t look suspicious though. “Shitty de—zuku is in on it,” I interrupt myself midway through the nickname Izuku has told me multiple times he doesn’t mind.

“And did you see the way he seemed almost more interested when you said they were spicy? Who here even likes spicy cookies over regular cookies!?” Kaminari sounds like he’s straining to keep his voice under a hearing level.

Of course that’s the part Kaminari zeroes in on. It is a detail to point out, but not that big. Sero shrugs.

“They were good, but not better than a regular cookie, Ei. No offense.” Mina smiles up at him.

“Whatever, I made them only to satisfy Kats’ hell-hot buds anyway.”

“Which they are.” He blinks a few times, eyes ripped to my deadpan. “Satisfied.”

“Thanks?”

“Ain’t nothing’ to thank. They were good.”

“Kats—“

“Simple as that.”

RING!!

“Shit, the bell!” Kaminari’s packing his unfinished lunch at lightning speed.

“I’ll feel so bad if I have to see that hollow shell of a man looking any more depressing if we’re late to his training,” Sero grumbles as he grabs his belongings with his tape.

“Well don’t remind me!” Mina wails.

Kirishima’s laughing under his breath as he pulls his bag on. “I don’t think All Might will get depressed if you guys are a little late. It’s not manly, yeah, but it’s not world ending.”

The others can scramble to class all they want. I’ve got a plan for the green team. They wanna send spies on me? Jokes on them, I’ve been watched all my goddamn life.

“Whatchu want?” Kirishima squints at me, only teasing. I fold my arms and lean my hip into the edge of the table.

“Shut up and I’ll tell you. You, me, after school.”

“Session?”

What the hell? “No— Fuck, no. Not fuckin’ weed, Ei.”

He only shrugs. “It could’ve been weed. It sounded like weed. It should’ve been weed.”

Why the hell would I want weed?

“No. No, it shouldn’t have. Nevermind—I mean, we need to talk. I got somethin’, and I need ya’ to go along with it.”

“‘You have a plan?”

“Yeah.”

The asshole looks at me. Scrutinizing as if it’s impossible for the top of our fucking class to come up with a plan so fast. I can imagine everywhere he’s looking. The knick in my brow from the war, the worry line just barely coming to shape on my forehead. Basically, every part of me that’s only formed ‘cause of that damn war. I’d rather drop dead than let him think I’m weak.

“Why were you chasing Midoriya—“

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Kats—“

“I told you to knock that—“

“Why not? To the name and… this morning. I thought it was just ‘cause Mina and the others were around that you wouldn’t tell.”

He knows he’s prying, and yet he’s testing me anyway. Regardless of Mina’s big gossipy mouth, I wouldn’t tell a soul. It’s not their business.

“I told you I’m not talking about it, and the extras weren’t the reason why. Plus, that name is fucking ugly by the way.”

“We made it for you though.” He grins.

“‘Don’t mean it don’t suck.” I nudge my head towards the exit, where the bulk of our year is off to. “C’mon, before my perfect no lateness record blows up.”

Kirishima kicks into a jog but raises his brow at me anyway. “But we’re still not done talking. You still haven’t told me—“

“Okay, Johnny Bravo, if I gotta tell you—“

“Who the fuck is Johnny Bravo?”

“—that one buff guy? Y’know, that one show about the guy who’s all macho and has gigantic man tits— nevermind, stop interrupting!” I can feel sparks starting in my palms and he’s not making it any better. “As I was saying, I ain’t tellin’ you nothin’! It’s me and shitnerd’s business. Not yours, not Soyface’s, and not anybody else’s. Got it?”

He mimics catching a ball, dropping it ever so slowly on the floor, and pouting up at me. I swear I’ll kill him one day.

“One day they’ll be sending your ass back to Fatgum. ‘Cause I’ll beat you so bad your quirk will be unusable.”

“Kats, your plays on words are getting too many steps—“

“‘Wasn’t even a play on words, but I’ll give you a more pea-brained threat: I’ll eat you.”

“Hell yeah! Love who you love. I mean, don’t love me though.”

I sigh. My friends are so… stupid.

Most of our class is already huddled around the symbol of peace by the time we arrive. All Might still insists on showing up in his buff form until he starts choking blood, even though no one needs or wants him to. Though, it’s not like anyone wants to crush his spirit by saying anything about it.

“I am here, my students!” the man bellows, as if we don’t have eyes.

Kaminari hails him, before Iida jabs his sharp as hell elbow in the blond's side.

Our training begins.

——————————————————

A/N TIME !!!

Hope anyone who read this enjoyed :) This A/N is long ash tho, can y’all tell I’m a yapper

Anywho, finally posting the fanfic I’ve been working on 😭 literally only 2 chapters and the beginning of a 3rd in because I have such a bad habit of forgetting things I started, remembering, forgetting, not liking, and repeating the cycle. I got really inspired reading The Way You Used to Do planning this out though. Read it last year and my friends haven’t heard silence since.

If I don’t think this is ass by the time I finish I might post to ao3 as well (probably in like 10 yrs LOL idk how fanfic writers can consistently write chapters and finish with 200k words in like 4 months) this is basically my form of beta-ing when my bsf isn’t available lol

Also, I’ve kinda just been writing in a google doc without a title because it was originally an “x reader” but then the plot I planned got too interesting 🤷🏾‍♀️ I think “I’m Sorry for You” fits the narrative I’ve built though. If anyone wants to know why, id be happy to explain ^^ Anywho, I always think those existential “the stars r ur eyes” or whatever titles were so pretty and I wanted to have something like that but my brain always blanks out when I have to think of a title. Womp womp.

If anyone is interested, I also have a doc for planning, with character headcanons and analyses. I have a visceral hatred for OOC works and while most will say that it is so, they can just be so far from source material that I’ll die reading it. In addition, I made a little playlist to help me brainstorm plot and think about bakudeku dynamics.

#bakudeku #mha #bakugou katsuki #bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #izuku midoriya #my hero academia #bnha bakugou #fanfic #new fanfic #mha bkdk #bkdk #bnha bkdk #bkdk fanfic

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