#we've had almost three weeks to do this

[reiderwriter]

Little Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid × virgin!fem reader

Genre: SMUT, some fluff, a little tiny smidge of angst. MINORS DNI 18+

Summary: As the youngest and most innocent member of the BAU, they all take care of their little angel. When they find out just how innocent you are, though, one member takes his possession to the next level. You're his little angel, and he's determined to have you.

Warnings: loss of virginity, loss of innocence, degradation, pet names, oral sex, thigh riding, fingering, cum marking, love bites, Spencer is territorial and possessive, Dom! Spencer Reid, PinV sex, mentions breeding, but he pulls out.

A/N: We've reached Day 8 of kinktober! It's our second "long" fic, meaning there's a bit more plot to this, and the smut scene is longer too (WC is almost 7k!) I hope you love this one just as much as I did... The kinktober masterlist can be found here, and my regular masterlist is here too! If you want something specific, my requests are open ❤️

Your first three months with the BAU were a blur, and for good reason. Endless cases, back-to-back, interrupted only by the slight hint of a weekend or the ever possible death row interview. You were tired, stressed, and afraid to walk home alone at night, and absolutely satisfied. As far as you were concerned, it was all worth it to get these monsters off the streets, to help save their victims and to find out what made them tick. There was nothing else you'd rather be doing. 

The team had helped you settle in well, too. You'd joined the team after Alex Blake had left - she'd recommended you actually from the college seminars you'd taken with her. You were obviously lacking a bit of experience, so they took on two team members, and you and Kate Callahan had the great opportunity of both being the newbie. But you had a slight disadvantage of age, coming in as the youngest member of the team. You thought that might be why you'd settled in so well, in all honesty. 

Hotch and Rossi were both protective in a fatherly way. Hotch pushed you and Rossi encouraged you and that was everything you needed from them. A strong pat on the back at the end of a case and a "you did good, kid," and whatever hell they'd pushed you through, it was worth it. Morgan's tough love was brotherly, but he did a great job at getting you to relax on and off the case, reminding you to not take the work home. JJ and Kate were great mentors. It wasn't easy being women in the FBI, let alone the unit that specifically looked into some of the most misogynistic killings, rapes and abductions in the world. They both gave you tips about how to handle condescending officers, and JJ had held your hair back after you'd puked your guts up on a particularly harrowing day in the field. With Penelope, friendship was easy, and you loved talking to her about whatever hyperfixation you were on that week, loving that there was someone on your team that had filled their life with genuine joy in the face of so much horror. 

And Spencer. Honestly, you were beginning to think that you'd used Spencer as a human stuffed toy a bit too much. 

You don't know how it happened at first, just that after one of your first few cases, you'd been so elated to find a victim alive, safe but traumatised, that you'd thrown yourself into his arms the minute you got back to the precinct. 

"We did it, I thought she was going to be dead, Spencer but she isn't." Your head was pressed into his chest, you were almost surprised he even heard them, muffled as they were. If you weren't so elated, you'd have noticed the way he'd stiffened at your touch, panicking slightly before awkwardly wrapping his arms around you, too. But you pulled away before you could notice that he wasn't really used to any physical comfort, bouncing off to write up your case report. 

Spencer noticed, though. Noticed how the heat of your body made him feel comforted, the way his heart rate increased to 125 BPM from it's base rate and didn't fall back to normal for another half hour. He noticed that you smelt like jasmine and patchouli, and more importantly, he noticed that he didn't really care if you touched him, and that was new. 

It became a kind of ritual for you, finding him after a case and folding into his arms to celebrate. They were friendly hugs, after all, a sign that you'd been through hell together, and you'd made it through like avenging angels. They only lingered longer when the cases went badly. You turned to crying in his arms after you'd discovered the body of a dead street girl, Veronica, in pieces in the house of an unsub who'd committed suicide by cop moments earlier. 

"I told her she'd be safe if she talked to us, Reid. I told her we'd protect her, that I'd protect her." You were so hurt by that failure that he'd had to drive you home that night, holding your hand the entire way so you didn't feel so alone, left to fester in your guilt. 

The rest of the team had begun teasing you about the hugs, but you'd brushed them off. You hugged everyone else too, and you knew for a fact that Penelope hugged every member of the team, so there was nothing special going on between you and Spencer. No one had deigned to inform you of Spencer's germophobia and aversion to touch. 

"Gonna tell me what that's all about?" Morgan asked Spencer as you bounced away from a hug one day, leaving to remove your FBI vest. 

"What what's all about?" He replied coldly, turning away to remove his own vest, replacing it with his blazer. 

"What, you don't have a statistic for how many germs are passed between people during a hug, Kid, come on, you were practically smelling her hair." The older man's eyebrows raised in a question again, but Spencer continued to blow him off. 

"I hug people all the time, it's not a big deal." He shrugged. 

"It took you four years to return one of Penelope's hugs, and you still only do that on special occasions. That's not all the time." 

"Derek, just drop it. There's nothing going on, she just… She just does it sometimes." 

It was when you'd hugged him in the middle of the office, without a case to use as an excuse, that you noticed an underlying tension in the office. You were all celebrating, of course, Callahan had just announced her pregnancy, and you were all so happy for her. You'd heard the happy news and instantly turned and thrown yourself into Spencer's arms. Even you weren't sure why, not even questioning it until you saw the awkward glances on the other profilers' faces. You brushed it off by rushing to give each of them hugs, and running out in a mad flush, needing air, or water or something to get you out of what was looking more and more like an interrogation room. 

A few cases later, the entire team headed to O'Keefe's to celebrate. 

"To another case successfully solved," Morgan toasted, and you all joined him, lifting your glasses in triumph. 

"To the wonders of non-alcoholic beer," chimed in Kate, leaving you all laughing together. The booth was small, and as usual, you'd found yourself sat right in the arms of Spencer Reid. You hadn't intended it, honestly, having slightly avoided him recently, but you'd followed Penelope into her side of the circular table, and Reid had followed you. You were sat squished between them, your arms resting awkwardly on your lap between drinks. 

"Okay, a night of drinking is slightly boring without some games to spice things up, what do you say, hot chocolate?" Penelope said, addressing Morgan who was on her other side. 

"I'm all ears, baby girl. What were you thinking?" 

"How about twenty questions? We already know a lot about each other, let's see what we don't know?" Kate suggested, thriving off of the knowledge that as the sole sober member present, she'd hold all the cards tomorrow. 

"What, how is asking questions a game?" Reid questioned jokingly from beside you. "That's just an interrogation or a therapy session, there's no winner or loser."  

Already slightly buzzing from your drink, you turned to him and out your fingers in his lips, shushing him. 

"No time for logic in matters of the bottle, Spencer. Let's play." He pulled your fingers off him, but nodded, holding them in his grip still as you turned back to the table. 

"I'll start! JJ, are you and Will thinking of having more baby LaMontagne's?" Penelope jumped at the chance to probe her teammate, and you laughed at her enthusiasm. 

"There have been discussions, but I'll not confirm or deny yet." JJ said, taking a sip of her drink as she slyly avoided a direct answer. 

"I always forget why you were so good with the press, Miss No Answers. Okay, your turn to ask a question." 

"Okay, Morgan. Are you thinking of popping the question to Savannah anytime soon?" 

"Did she send you?" He laughed and took a drink. "If I do, she'll be the first to know." 

The game went back and forth like this for a few rounds before Penelope turned the spotlight back to you. 

"Okay, Y/N. You were a college student recently, I know you've got some wild stories. Where's the craziest place you've ever done it?" You knew Penelope didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. She was just an open person. 

But you shifted in your seat nonetheless, trying to figure out if you could answer or even if you would. Your tongue was a bit looser than you expected though, because before you could even finish thinking you just blurted it out. 

"Nowhere." 

The others blinked at you slightly before Penelope dived in with another question. 

"Is that Nowhere, Oaklahoma, or you're just not having sex in crazy places?" 

"No. I'm not… I'm not having sex. Period. Never have." You felt yourself shrink as the other members of the team awkwardly apologised for probing you so much. Really it wasn't that big of a deal, and it wasn't as if you were saving it for religious or moral reasons. But you'd not been the most popular teenager, and you'd started studying serial killers and sociopaths so early that you really hadn't wanted to get so intimate with someone else like that. 

Unbeknownst to you, Spencer's grip on his own drink had tightened ever so slightly, his heart race had picked up again, and suddenly the hand that was holding yours suddenly let you go, quietly dropping your fingers like they were glowing cinders, and he was dripping in gasoline, waiting to ignite. 

Lust. He felt sick with himself for the images that were suddenly flashing through his mind now that he knew you'd never been held in that way, trying not to fantasise about you underneath him, holding him, begging him, feeling all of him. He took another swig of his drink and politely excused himself to get another as he let himself catch some air, as the sudden realization that he wanted you - and had wanted you for quite some time now - finally hit him.

The next couple of weeks were normal, and you were thankful to have that discussion behind you. No one treated you differently, acted like you were more of a child than before, asked you how your dating life was or set you up on blind dates, which was really refreshing actually. You'd let some friends know previously, and that's all they'd done, surprised that you could live ignorant to wonders of sex without shrivelling up and dying. 

The only thing that was different was Spencer. And that wasn't really difference so much as growing more comfortable with each other. He'd rest his hand on the small of your back now in support sometimes, or have a hand slung over the back of your chair when sitting together. He was constantly at your side, especially if you were around male suspects or officers who'd taken a bit of a ballsy approach. 

You liked it, probably a bit too much. You gravitated towards him in a room filled with people, and found yourself hugging him more often, when you left a room, when you entered one, when he looked like he needed it. Which, recently, was all the time. A month went by with this increased comfort level, and soon you found yourself feeling wrong if his hands weren't on you. 

He stood close to you all the time, and you noticed the stares you were getting from everyone else. A few officers who'd approach you would apologise to him when they noticed him at your back, hand on your hip as he pulled you away. 

After one case, you could even swear that you felt more than him than you were expecting. He'd moved away slightly in between one of your hugs, but you'd pulled his arms back around you and stepped closer, pressing your back against his chest, letting your head rest on his arms. Something hard and long wedged up against your ass, and in a split second he was pulling away before you could ask him about it. He excused himself, and you felt your body burn up. It was Spencer, it was just Spencer and that wasn't because of you, it was some other reason. 

Spencer didn't know what he was doing. He grew more possessive over you by the day, and he'd honestly nearly bitten the head off an officer who asked him for your number. 

"Sorry, she doesn't have a phone." 

"But I saw her with one earlier. Look I get it she's FBI, and you guys are-" 

"Okay, so she's not interested."

"Hey, why don't you let her decide that wise guy?" 

"Oh sure, get angry I'm sure she'd love that. She's not interested, she has me." He couldn't help himself from getting in the officers face at that, and Morgan had to pull him back from the edge. 

"Wow, wow, hey, calm down." The officer stormed out, and he felt triumphant for only a second before Morgan rounded on him. 

"Whatever this thing you've got going on, Spencer, you need to get it out of your system as soon as possible." His voice was low and stern, throwing a glance over his shoulder to where you were sitting, staring confusedly through the glass at Spencer, whose eyes refused to move from your own. 

" I just wanted him to back off, she doesn't like him like that."

"No, you wanted him to back off because you've marked her like some animal marking its territory. She's not your prey, Spencer, she's our team member, now you're gonna have to get your act together and leave her alone, because we've got work to do." 

Sighing and throwing his hands through his hair again, he finally looked away from you and gathered his breath. He wanted to stop this too, this horrible perverted feeling of needing his hands on you, wanting to possess you day and night. To protect you. He just wasn't sure if he was strong enough to do that. 

The next time you all went to O'Keefe's he certainly tried. You expected him to follow you into the booth again - he didn't, sitting opposite you next to JJ. You expected him to talk to you or look at you for more than a second at a time - he didn't, avoiding most conversations entirely and keeping his eyes fixed on the bar. You certainly expected him to still be sat at the table when you returned from the bathroom, ready to slip into the seat beside him, force him to talk to you. Instead he was gone, and you scanned the rest of the bar trying to locate him. 

Something green and vile jumped you when you finally locked onto him, stood at the bar, surrounded by other women. Surrounded was maybe an exaggeration, as there were really only two of them, but they were practically draping themselves over him, and for some reason that set something alight inside of you. 

You watched them for a moment, how one of them trailed a hand up his arm as he shuddered away from their touch, the other pressing herself against the bar so her chest pushed up dramatically. The green bile in your throat carried your feet forwards, and before you knew it, you were clearing it from your throat to grab their attentions. 

"Spencer, there you are!" You brightened your tone specifically, as you locked eyes with his panicked ones. The two girls looked you up and down as you moved closer, brushing past them to climb up right into his lap on the barstool, pulling his arm around you as you pressed your ass into his crotch. 

"Are you going to introduce me to your new friends?" The smile didn't reach your eyes as you let your back rest against his chest comfortably, watching the women to see their reactions. The one touching him pulled her arm back instantly, and the other readjusted her dress before they both left silently, carrying their glasses back to wherever they came from. 

You watched them leave a little triumphantly before the green faded, and you realised what you had done. 

"Y/N…?" His voice was hesitant in your ear, and you shivered slightly before pushing off of him. 

"I'm so sorry, Spence, it just- it… looked like you were hard." You panicked again, pushing closer to him. "No, like you were in a hard situation, not that you were," your hand accidentally dropped to his crotch as you spoke your final words: "Hard."

He twitched beneath you as you finally looked down to where your hand was, as his mouth opened to say something. 

"Y/N…" was all you heard before you turned around, and fast walked to the entrance, picking your bag up quickly on the way, and then sprinted the second the cold air hit your face. 

You cursed yourself inwardly as you ran the three blocks more to your apartment, thankful that you were at least in walking (or apparently running) distance. What the hell had you been thinking? Practically sexually harassing one of your coworkers like that, grabbing his dick, albeit accidentally. 

You slammed your door shut behind you, leaning against it and sliding to the floor as you finally accepted that whatever this was with Reid, it wasn't friendship for you anymore. And you weren't sure if it had ever been. 

With your head between your legs, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you started replaying each moment with him, each touch from the very first. How even the memory of a brush past you could excite a fire in your heart, a heat between your legs growing by the second. 

You wanted to crawl pathetically into bed and not think about him until the next morning at work,  but fate, or Doctor Spencer Reid, had other plans. 

The knock at your door was sudden and incessant, the banging starting loud, and staying consistent until you tentatively pulled it open. 

He was stood there, chest heaving, looking down at you, sweat coating his forehead. 

"Can I… Come in?" He asked, and you nodded, too stunned at his sudden appearance to tell if this was real or just your fantasy becoming a little too realistic. 

He thanked you for letting him inside, and you showed him inside, guiding him to he couch, where you took a seat opposite him. 

"I wanted to make sure you were okay, you left in a rush and…" He trailed off, eyes flicking down to your lips. His Adam's apple bobbed with his swallow, and you watched it yourself, trying to avoid meeting his eyes, as if you were a schoolgirl about to get in trouble with a disappointed teacher. 

"I'm okay." 

"Okay, that's great, that's… Great." His breaths caught up to him, and he took another deep breath and a swallow before continuing. "How about we continue that game from last time. Twenty questions?" 

You'd do anything to stop him walking out of that door, but you felt too shy to touch him again, even in the friendly ways you were used to, so you eagerly accepted. 

"Yes, that… That sounds fun, thank you." 

"Okay. Question one. Do you know why I'm here?" He asks as he shifts closer to you, still not touching, but at a proximity where it would be natural to accidentally brush against one another. 

"N-No. But I might have an idea." He nodded at your response before moving on to his next question. 

"Question two. Are you a virgin?" He didn't trip or stumble over the words, pushing them out slowly and delicately so as not to offend. 

"Yes." The lump in your throat was thick, almost as if he'd put something there that you couldn't help but choke on. 

"Question three. Do you want to remain a virgin?" 

You shook your head no, following it with your voice seconds later as he stood up from his seat, putting some distance between you. 

"Question four. Do you feel intoxicated or drunk right now?" He held himself still as you sat on the very edge of your chair, desperate to feel his hands on you now. 

"No, I only had one sip at the bar before…" He held up a hand to silence you, and you did. 

Question five. Answer me honestly. Do you like it when I touch you?" 

"Yes." Your breath was a whisper, but it was breathy, sounding almost pornographic in your neediness. 

"Question six. Do you like it when other people touch you?" 

"Do you?" His head snapped back to yours, and you froze under his gaze. "Not as much." You answered and relaxed again, pouting slightly at his lack of answer. 

"Question seven. Do you like me touching other people?" He took a step closer to you again with this question, but you continued pouting as you shook your head. 

"No. I don't." His lips quirked upwards before he could stop them, but he gathered himself together again. 

"Question eight. Do you want me to leave?" You met his eyes at that question, taking one good, hard, long look at him. You noted the tensed jaw, the clenched fists, his stiff body language, trailing your eyes over him before looking him directly in the eyes. 

"No." You let the word hang on your tongue, pulling it out a bit longer than was necessary as you watched him take in a shaky breath. 

"Question nine. Do you want me to come over there and kiss you?" 

"God, yes." He was on you in seconds, restraints gone, throwing himself back at you as his lips collided with your own. Virgin you may be, but you'd kissed men before, and it had been nothing like this. 

His hands trailed up to your hair, tipping your head back slightly so he could gain better access. He bit your lip and thrust his tongue into your mouth when you gasped, so eager to consume every part of you whole. 

You'd never felt like this before. 

He pulled away, and you tried desperately to chase his lips, even as your lungs begged you to stop. 

"Last question," he whispered in the space between you, holding the sides of your face at a distance so neither of you could be tempted to dive in for a second kiss, or a third, or fourth. "Do you want me to fuck you?" You whimpered at his words, nodding furiously as you tried to lunge at him again, but he held you firm. 

"I need you to say your answer, baby. I need to hear your consent, okay?" You nod again and open your mouth, eyes never leaving his lips as you moan out a definitive "yes."

Instead of letting your lips fall against his again, he lunges for you, grabbing your legs and hauling you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style all the way back to your bedroom. 

"Gonna do it right," he mutters to himself as he throws you down on the bed, pulling back to take off his jacket and unbutton the cuffs on his shirt, rolling the sleeves up meticulously. 

"I'm going to take care of you, Y/N, okay?" You nod at him and flush, suddenly feeling the strength of his need for you as he holds himself back. He puts his hands on you again, gently coaxing your legs apart, pushing your skirt up over your hips. Reflexively, you move your hands over yourself, covering your sensitive places with your hands. 

"Don't cover yourself." His voice is strong, deep, as he orders you, and you let your arms drop back to your side. He traces his hands up and down your legs, almost as if he were memorising every inch of your skin, how you felt under his hands. 

His hands make their way up to your panties, and you watch with baited breath as he moves you, pulling your hips up so he can let them fall down. The lace material tickles you as he pushes them past your thighs, over your knees and finally off your legs entirely, balling them up and putting them in his pocket. 

"I'm going to touch you now, okay?" He asks it like a question, but he doesn't wait for your answer, unable to hold himself back before diving straight between your legs, so desperate to taste you that he's deaf to everything else. 

His tongue connects with your sensitive area first, tracing up and down at a steady pace as his legs half-heartedly push your legs open. It's almost as if he's enjoying the pressure of your legs wrapped around him, suffocating between your thighs as he feels your pleasure build, and build. 

Eventually he pushes your hips further apart, letting himself push his face into even more of you, his tongue entering your hole as he begins fucking it in and out of you, fingers coming back up to your clit to keep up the pressure there. 

"Spencer, please, please, fuck." 

"I love it when you beg for me like a needy little slut," he whispers, holding your legs apart as he looked up at you, face slick with your arousal. Your mouth drops wide at his words, and he immediately begins to retract them. 

"I'm sorry, Y/N, if that was too far, I just got caught up -" 

"I liked it." You said, quieting him as you spread your legs a bit further apart, begging for him to continue. He smiled and dived right back in, bringing his other hand up under your dress, all the way to your chest as you kept your legs open yourself. 

He sucked your clit into his mouth, lapping up all the juices you were releasing as you moaned underneath him, bucking into his face at the memory of his degradation. 

You were a needy little slut, and you needed him to make you cum. He was more than happy to oblige. 

He kept you there for what felt like forever, drinking you in for as long as he could. You orgasmed twice before he finished, completely overstimulated by the way he was desperately fucking you with his mouth. 

He was obsessed with you, with your scent, your taste, with being the first ever person to ever touch you like this, to fuck you, to make you feel so good. Without him even realising, you're pushed to the brink for a second time, shuddering under the heat of his mouth as he drinks you in. 

He finally pulls his head up again, coming up for air as you're twitching under him. 

"Perfect, baby, so perfect for me." His lips fall down to your own, and suddenly you're tasting yourself on his tongue. It's hypnotising, and despite the pleasure you've just received, you need more, desperate to feel him on you again. 

When he pulls his mouth away, he replaces himself with his fingers, pushing them into your mouth. 

"Suck," he says and you listen, as he watches the way you lick yourself off of him. 

He unzips your dress with his free hand, carefully pulling your arms out of the sleeves and pushing your dress off your body. You trace your tongue around every ridge of his fingers, leaving no inch undiscovered. He moved you to pull the dress of, and you graciously followed, letting him do whatever he wanted to you. 

"Nice little slut, tasting herself on my fingers?" He whispered when you were finally bare, pulling his fingers from your mouth, letting the trail of spit hang between you as you moaned. 

He removed himself from over you, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. 

"Come here. Come and sit on my lap." 

You cautiously followed his directions. You'd thought that he'd fuck you then, after spending so long getting you ready, but apart from his tie, which he was in the middle of discarding as you crawled over to him, he hadn't derobed any further. 

"That's it baby, come and sit yourself down right here." He pat his thigh and you crawled over, lowering yourself down onto his clothed leg. 

"What now, Spencer?" You stuttered the words out, heart beating as you awaited his instructions. 

"Now, I want you to rock your hips back and forth. Just like this." He grabbed your hips and started moving you against his leg, pushing you down to grind into him. 

"Spencer, wait, I don't know-" 

"I do. I know you can do it, so please try. For me." You pulled you in for a kiss, and then removed his hands from you, leaving you to rock against his thigh. 

You were unsure of the movements at first, moving slowly as you dragged your aching cunt up and down the top of his pants, watching as you saw the wet patch you were making. You moaned with each movement, growing faster and more confident as you continued. 

"That's it baby, use me to get yourself off, okay? Let me see you." He whispered in your ears, pushing your sweat-slicked hair ou of your face, holding it up for you. 

"Spencer please," you don't even know what you're asking for as you beg him, feeling that familiar bubble in your stomach grow. 

"No, you can do it. You look so beautiful like this, Y/N, so desperate for my cock, huh?" You start trying to unbutton his shirt, desperate to see more of him, to feel more of his bare skin on your own. But he stops your hands and holds them against his chest. 

"You need to ask nicely first, before trying to undress me like a needy little whore." The words should sound violent, should humiliate you, but his voice is so soft you simply move faster, moaning and desperate to cum one more time. 

"Fuck, Spencer, I'm gonna… I'm gonna…" 

"No, you're not." Before you finish, he pulls you off his leg, hauling your body back onto the bed, and laying you back down on your back. You moan in disapproval, so frustrated with the lack of release that you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

"Don't cry, baby. I'll give you what you want soon." He practically rips his clothes off, pulling his vest over his head, stumbling over each button and removing his belt and pants before climbing over to you. His cock finally free you take your first glance at it. 

You'd never entirely been sure how it was that the male appendage fit inside something as small as your pussy, and you were doubly unsure about how Spencer's was ever going to fit inside you. You stared at it wide eyed, as you took in the length, the girth, and the heat of it as he stroked it in one hands, pushing on top of you. 

He let go of it as soon as he was between your legs, letting it fall onto your stomach as he crawled between your legs. He trailed a finger over your lower abdomen just around where his cock was twitching against you as his other hand came up to stroke your hair. 

"You look worried, Y/N, what's wrong?" 

"Will it, um, will it fit?" You asked, knowing how cliché you sounded. 

"We've spent the last thirty-seven minutes loosening you up with foreplay. It should fit, but I can't promise it won't hurt."

"Right, if my hymen is still intact you have to…" 

"That's right. And then it's going to reach all the way in you to here," with each word, he stepped his fingers up from your clit to where the tip of his dick sat on your stomach, letting you come to terms with exactly how full you were about to be. 

"I'm going to fill you, and you're going to be mine, and I'm going to be yours. My sweet angel." He stroked your face, catching his thumb on your lips on the way down, tempted to thrust it into your mouth again, to see just how much of a whore you could be, given the chance. 

Instead, he lined himself up with your dripping core, and, making sure one last time that this is what you wanted, slowly pushed in. 

It was uncomfortable at first, having something so wholly alien inside of you, you weren't sure how to react. You wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails in, deep, as he pushed in further. 

"Y/N, I need to move more now, and it's going to hurt a little, you just have to trust me, okay?" He kissed the top of your head, but you were so lost in the sensations to answer. With one swift jerk of his hips, he pushed through your hymen, and fully sheathed himself inside of you. He pressed small kisses everywhere on your face, while whispering to you how beautiful you were. 

"You're doing so good for me angel, I'm going to take care of you. Going to make you feel so much better than this. You're so beautiful." His lips were distractingly sweet, as were his words, and soon you found yourself relaxing into him, the sharp pain of earlier fading to an electric buzz inside of you. 

You jerked your hips up to meet his, and with that, he knew you were ready. From his words, you'd assumed that he'd move slowly in you. But with one final lingering kiss to your lips, he lifted his chest up, pinned your legs tightly down, and started thrusting hard and fast. 

"Sorry, just couldn't help myself baby. Needed to see you looking ruined underneath me." Moans spilled out of your mouth with his every movement, and the orgasm you'd built up earlier hit you like a ton of bricks, blackness hazing over your eyes as they rolled back in your head. 

"Fuck, fuck, Spencer, don't stop!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, unable to control your pitch or volume as he slammed into you desperately. He was so turned on by the sight of you beneath him, so proud of having fucked away your virginity, to have given you your very first penetrative orgasm that he wouldn't have heard anything that came out of your mouth. 

His eyes were fixated at the place between you, where you joined, where he was entering you, defiling you, claiming you, using you, breeding you. 

He knew he wouldn't cum inside of you, not the first time, but it was tempting. Instead, he chose to move his lips back to your skin. He marked you with love bites and hickeys across your neck, chest and shoulders as you moaned with every roll of his hips, shuddering on his cock. He was close. And seeing you like this, displaying all the signs that you were his and his only, he finally lost it. 

Pulling his dick out of you, he stroked it through his release, spraying his seed over the parts of your skin he hadn't bruised with love. Your stomach, your breasts, hell, one spurt even landed dangerously close to your lips, he was everywhere. You. Were. His. 

He fell beside you, panting for a few moments as you finally cracked your eyes back open, realising what the two of you had just done. You wiped the cum from your face with a stray finger, staring at it for a second before licking it off your finger. 

"As hot as that was, I think we should get you cleaned up properly, angel." He spends forever cleaning you up, carrying you to the bathroom, washing your entire body with hot water and a fresh cloth, running you a hot bath to relax your muscles. You snuggle into his chest at some point in the bath, relaxing so much into him, that you drift off to sleep. 

You feel him carry you to bed, semi-conscious, tucking you in and climbing in next to you. He holds you through the night, the way he holds you after your bad cases. He holds you until he doesn't. 

You're blindsided by the cold bed the next morning. You knew he would be there, you'd felt him inside you and next to you, and you'd needed his warmth, but he was gone. You looked for him in every other part of your home, looked for a note or an explanation, but there wasn't one. 

Through tears, you got ready for work, ready to face him and make him answer why he was suddenly gone. You wanted him to apologise, especially since he'd marked you so badly the night before you looked like a car crash victim from the neck down. 

Dark lavender blossomed along your collar bones as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trailing a finger along every place that he touched the night before. 

"How could you be so stupid?" You cursed yourself. If you'd have listened to what he was saying last night, really listened, you'd have known he wasn't going to be here in the morning. He wanted to ruin you, to possess you, to take away your virginity, and he'd done just that. 

You almost wanted to keep the bruises on display going into work, to make him confront the pain he caused you by leaving. In the end, it was the inevitable stares from everyone else that convinced you otherwise. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. 

You pushed through the doors to the bullpen and didn't bother putting your bag down before you started scanning the room for him. 

"Where's Spencer?" You practically shouted the words at Morgan, unable to hold back your anger. 

"Y/N, what's wrong?" 

"Where is he?" You demand, and there must be something in your eyes that speaks to your devastation because Morgan shuts up and just points to the top of the stairs, where Spencer is exiting Hotch's office without a care in the world. 

You don't realise that something is tears until you're beating a hand against his chest in frustration as they spill down your face. 

"Where were you?" You demand, sobbing into his chest, as he pulls your hands away. The entire office is watching your commotion, but you don't care, you're not letting him move you out of the way. 

"Y/N, I need you to sign this." His voice is calm, and you hate him for that. That he can stay so neutral when he's just broken your heart. 

"No, not until you tell me why you left." 

"Sign the papers, Y/N, trust me." He pulls your chin up so you can look him in the eye, and you catch a glimpse of the man who has been holding you, comforting you for the last four months. You snatch the pen from him and sign the papers, thrusting them back at him with a scowl. 

He smiles as he looks down at them, placing them back on his desk before pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. You're shocked at first, but you melt into it, pulling him closer so he can't leave again. 

"I'm sorry. I had to come into the office to declare our relationship, Morgan sometimes tells me I have a one track mind, and when I woke up this morning, the one thing I wanted to do was get it in writing that you were mine." 

Your push the tears out of his face, and attempt to pull him down for another kiss. You don't get the chance, as the sound of several throats clearing around you burst your bubble. 

"Public space, no canoodling." Rossi shouts down at you from the balcony, a soft smirk on his face. 

Penelope runs in from her office, and stares wide-eyed at the lack of space between the two of you. "You! And you! Security cameras….. You!"

"Now, I'm sure there's a story here, but from the state of our little angel's neck here, I'm sure I don't want to hear it." Derek laughs, smacking Spencer on the back in praise as he walks up the stairs to the meeting room. 

You slap a hand over your neck, trying to pull the turtleneck further up to hide the mark you evidently missed. 

"She's my angel, now." Spencer calls up to him. "I have the paperwork to prove it."  

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 ! ❞

❝ EVERYONE WANTS PROF GETO — IN A WORLD OF BOYS, HE’S A GENTLEMAN ! ❞

✧ pairing: professor!geto x f!reader (part three of the prof geto series)

✧ summary: you always had the wrong timing with professor geto -- first you were his student, then his T.A., and now it was the wrong place -- he’s moving to Kyoto. but you had a few weeks together before then -- so can you make them last?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, a lot of smut (for real), so much fluff (we've earned it), depictions of student/teacher relationship (only ok in fiction not irl!!!), reader is a grad student, but age is vague, fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, shower sex, amateur's take on moral philsophy and ethics, surprise appearance by someone :)

✧ wc: 12,010 (is anyone surprised?)

✧ other parts: part one | part two | v-day special

Time was the one thing that seemed to always escape you and Suguru — fuck,  timing was never your strong suit to begin with—if your late arrival to Suguru’s first class was any indication. 

You always ended up too early or too late to places, your entire day spent waiting for an appointment in the middle of the day, and your meeting days often mixed up in your head. And now—

Your relationship had an expiration date before it had even started. 

The question you asked when the message from the department head came through hung in the air of his office like a death announcement. And it almost was — the second death of not even the start of what could have been a relationship. 

Suguru’s eyes can’t meet yours, brow furrowed as if he had thought hard enough, he could solve the problem of distance with a simple application of an ethical theory — but unfortunately Socrates nor Plato had invented any solutions for instantaneous travel. 

So the elephant remained. 

“When did you—“ 

“No,” he’s swallowing, his eyes meeting yours again — desperate, but not the desperation you had both felt a moment ago — the desperation felt in the throes of passion — no, this desperation was the one felt when clinging to sand slipping between your fingers, “let’s not talk about this, not right now,” 

“Suguru—“ and his lips find yours again, more insistent this time, his hands slipping around your waist, and each brush of his lips steals away another ounce of sense from you, “we have to talk about—“ 

“I know we do, I know,” he murmurs between kisses, his fingers cupping your cheek, thumb brushing back and forth against your cheekbone, “but I don’t want to think any more — I just want to be with you. I just want you,” and his voice breaks ever so slightly, and it cracks any reservations you have — just as this man always did, “but if you want to talk, we can talk right—“ 

And your lips cut off his sentence, only a moment’s pause before he’s melting into your touch again, your hands sliding against his bare chest, his heartbeat racing as fast as yours was — so much so that you wondered if the beating you heard was your own or his. 

“Your place or mine?” and he blinks, as you kiss his jaw, a chuckle on your lips, “unless you’d like to fuck me in your office, I’ll have to admit it’s one of the things I’ve thought about,” 

And god, all the blood in his body must have fled south in a half second with how much he aches for you, “Now who needs to watch their language?” His words are whispered against your neck, as he leans down to press a sweet kiss there, “what other things have you thought about?” His fingers find your chin, tilting your head until your gaze met his again — dark pools of lust stared back — and your thighs would have pressed together, if his knee wasn’t between them, teasingly rubbing against your far too damp panties. 

“Patience, we have time for that,” and his eyes soften ever so slightly, an iota of relief rippling across his features.

“We do?” And it’s a question he needed to ask — had to ask, but that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear the answer to — because he knew it could break him. 

“We do,” you pull him into a kiss, your lips sliding against his, “so the question remains, Professor,” you tease, and a shiver runs down his spine, “your place or mine?” 

~~~

You end up at his place — the car ride there was relatively short, but far too long — wringing your hands in your lap, so you wouldn’t touch him. Because you know it would only take one touch — one touch for him to pull to the side of the road and pull you across the console and into his lap. 

But you wanted to do this right — you needed to do this right. You had both waited long enough — you couldn’t hurry, not when you were both about to cross the finish line. But it didn’t mean you couldn’t toe it. And your fingers brush his outer thigh, and his eyes flicker over to you — a silent warning, and you knew you were playing with fire — the same fire that had burned you both time and time again, but this wasn’t his office. And you weren’t to let a goddamn phone stop you from having what you wanted. 

And you wanted him — so bad — and from the way his gaze found yours, tongue flicking across his lips — he wanted you all the same. Your fingers just rested on his thigh, if only to ground yourself — as if touching him was the same as pinching yourself, to remind you that this wasn’t a dream. It was real — this was real. 

It only became more real as he pulled into his apartment parking lot. He got out first, opening the door for you, as he offered you his hand, and helped you out, drawing close, too close for your brain to function — his lips brushing against your ear, “that’s for teasing me in the car,” you barely manage to gape at him, before he’s leading you inside, a palm resting on the small of your back, as you sneak a glance at him — cheeks still burning.

He was so beautiful — in every sense of that word. His dark hair fell in waves, strands slipping from his bun, assuredly from your tryst in his office; his lips were curled in a slight smile, as he pulled his keys from his pockets; and even his hands were gorgeous — they were so much bigger than yours, and his long fingers, lovely veins running across the back of his hands. 

And you’re finally inside his apartment, as he holds the door open for you — the quiet click of the door makes your heart squeeze, his footsteps against the hardwood still when he’s behind you, his arms slowly curling around your waist. His lips ghost your neck, breath warming your skin, “should we talk first?” 

You lean into his touch, your back pressed into his chest, his fingers lightly squeezing your hips, “we should,” and you should, you had to talk about what was going to happen, what this meant, what Kyoto means — but you want to just stay in this moment, you turn to look at him, and your noses brush, “but I don’t want talk right now,” 

And his breath hitches, as your lips brush his, “But we will later?” his voice is barely above a whisper, as if even a word muttered above a whisper could break this moment. 

“I promise we will,” you murmur, your lips curling, as you turn to face him fully, “but let’s not worry about later right now — there’s only one time that’s important, and that’s right now,” 

“Paraphrasing Tolstoy?” He hums, his arms pull you flush to him, your fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt, already rumpled fabric wrinkling further under your touch, “And what do you plan to do to me right now, Princess?” 

“Oh I have many ideas,” you lean up and brush your lips against the cut of his jaw, delighting in the shiver you draw from him, “so many ideas, Professor — should I write an outline up?” 

“Fuck the outline,” and his lips find yours, his arms curled around you, pressing you flush against him, “I have all I need in my arms right now — I’m sure you’ll give a wonderful oral presentation, now won’t you?” He hums, as his lips part yours a moment, his thumb dragging down your puffy, kiss bitten lips — “I already know you’re an incredible orator,” this fucker knew exactly what to say to make your knees buckle. 

“And I know how good you are with your hands,” you guide them to your hips, “able to tear papers and pantyhose apart,” you teased as a tinge of red appeared across his pretty cheekbones, “I’ll expect a new pair by tomorrow,” 

“Consider it a promise,” and he’s kissing down your neck now, and you wonder if he can feel your pulse jumping under his touch, “but I can’t promise that I won’t do the same thing again,” 

And he’s guiding you to his bedroom, walking backwards, as his teeth nibble at a soft spot of your neck, your fingers finding his jaw to guide him back for another kiss when you pause. 

“What is it?” And you’re reaching into your pocket for something, and then reaching into his as well, as he flinches, fingers far too close to a very sensitive spot, and both of your hands emerge with your phones, turning them off before tossing them onto his couch. And he chuckles, “no risks?” 

“There’s already far too much risk when it comes to us — call it preemptive measures,” and you’re leaning back into a kiss, his lips curled in a smile, “no landlines right?” 

And he laughs, nodding, thumb and forefinger tilting your chin up, “Sure you aren’t a utilitarian at heart?” 

“Well, you are certainly the best consequence, now aren’t you?” and he smiles the same smile that doomed you from the start— 

“What a coincidence,” he murmurs, as he pulls you into his bedroom, helping you lie back on his bed, just as he imagined far too many times to be anywhere near ethical, — I was going to say the same about you.” 

~~~ 

“Shouldn’t I be making you feel good first—“ Suguru sucks air through his teeth as your pretty lips press a kiss to his sensitive erection through his tenting boxers, a dark patch of his pre-cum visible on the fabric, “please, sweetheart—“ 

“This is for all the times your email and phone calls blueballed us—“ you smirk, teasing the head with your thumb through the fabric — “and I have to tease you — I mean Professor Geto begging me to suck to him off? Maybe I should make you work for it, write a paper on why you think I should let you cum in my mouth,” and he’s gritting his teeth, cock twitching in his boxers, your words far too effective, “tear it apart until you’re begging for it,” he’s swallowing thickly — and god, he’s so pretty like this, hair splayed out like a halo around his head, cheeks ruddy from his flush, and his chest rising and falling, teeth baring down on his lip, “but I’m much too kind for that,” you’re sliding down his boxers, his cock nearly slapping against his stomach, “and we’ve waited long enough,” 

His cock was even gorgeous — truly what was he? Intelligent, kind, funny — and even his naked body was perfect — his cock was flushed red at the tip, black hair neatly trimmed dotted around it, a slight curve that you knew would feel far too good inside your cunt, and pretty veins you couldn’t wait to memorize— 

You weren’t his favorite student for nothing after all. 

You reach for his cock, smearing the thick beads of pre-cum along his length, kissing the tip, as your fingers slowly gripped the base. He grunts, a sigh leaving his lips, muscles tense as he tries not to rut into your hand and hang on to one iota of self control — and oh, you smirked, you’d do away with that soon enough. 

“You think about me in this room, Suguru?” your fingers slowly start to pump him, his head falling back, “did you touch yourself to the thought of this?” 

“Fuck, Princess—“ your lips curl. 

“Is that a yes?” And you lean down, parting your lips for his length as your tongue traces a teasing trail down his vein, “or a no?” the tip of your tongue lapping at the pre-cum that leaked from his slit, “c’mon, Sugu, not so good to keep your student waiting — maybe I’ll drop the class,” 

“I’ve thought about you — you know I have,” the words leave his lips, any hint of self control lost as his length presses against your cheek when you run a thick stripe with the flat of your tongue up his dick, “wanted to fuck you, taste you, make you scream my name—and,” his gaze softens ever so slightly as his only can in the midst of all this passion, “I wanted to wake up with you, make you breakfast, cuddle you—“ 

And he’s groaning, as you finally wrap your lips around his throbbing cock, tongue swirling around the tip, as his name left his lips in reverence, long fingers finding their way to weave in your hair. Your hand pumped what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. And you know he’s already close by the way his twitching now when his tip nearly brushes against your throat. 

“Sweetheart, stop, I’ll—“ but you don’t oblige him, fingers brushing against his balls, before you’re bracing yourself against his thighs, as you suck and lick at his length, until he’s groaning, “where should I—“ and you suck at his tip in reply, and his head falls back, lips parted in a groan, as he cums hard, swallowing every drop as he paints your throat white with his release. He’s panting and twitching as he comes down from his high — deliciously flushed and messy, as his chest falls up and down as he pants, trying and failing to catch the breath you had stolen from him — sucked from his dick undoubtedly. 

Eyes lidded as he watches you pull yourself from his cock, a string of spit and cum connecting your lips to his cock, before it drips down your chin, “I may get addicted, Sugu,” and you’re climbing back onto his lap, your lips grazing his still racing pulse, grunting as your clothed cunt rubs against his cock, “gonna have my professor’s cock every night at this rate — maybe I’ll suck you off under your desk next time,” your lips brush against his ear, as he gasps, cock twitching against your needy cunt, “how unethical your cock is compared to the rest of you,” and you’re undoing the buttons on his shirt, until it falls open for you, “wonder what other sounds I can draw from you tonight? Shall we learn together—“ 

And he flipped you onto your back on the bed, lips curled in a smile — but a smile laced with lust, eyes raking over your body as he began to strip your shirt off your body, “did you forget, Princess? I’m the professor,” and he leans down to kiss your erect tits through your bra, delighting at your gasp, before sucking lightly at your erect nipple through the fabric, “and I still have so much left to teach you,” 

He is kissing agonizingly slow up your body, first the valley of your breasts, along your collarbone, and the curve of your neck — until his lips finally find yours again. His tongue traces the seam of your lips before being granted access, tasting your own with a moan you swallow all too eagerly. It’s truly not fair for a kiss to be this good — but again, everything about Suguru Geto was.

“What are you going to be teaching me? Kant? Rawls? Aquinas?” You ask between kisses as his fingers sliding behind you to undo your bra, slipping it from your body, his lips parting from yours, a string of spit connecting your lips to his. 

He drags a thumb down your bitten red lips, “No, today's lesson is a bit unorthodox,” and now he’s kissing back down your body this time, tongue dragging over your stomach and belly button, before kissing right above the elastic of your panties. “I’m going to show what I owe you — what I’ve always wanted to owe you—“ a smile playing on his lips, as his legs force your thighs apart, eyes falling onto the wet patch on your underwear with a lust ridden gaze, “and how much I can make you moan my name from it,” 

His fingers begin to ghost up your thighs, before he leans down to ghost all too chaste kisses up your inner thighs, pretty hands holding your flesh still even as it shakes under his attention. 

“Seems like you enjoyed tasting me almost as much as I did,” he teases, dark eyes flickering up to meet yours, as his finger teased the drenched fabric, thumb rubbing against your clit, drawing a lovely gasp from your lips, “no smart remarks now? You always have so much to say,” and he’s pulling your panties down your thighs, seeing your pretty folds on display for him, glistening with your arousal — your need for him, “don’t tell me all it takes is my face between your thighs to get you to fall quiet,” and his lips curl as your lips pout, only making him chuckle, “don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll make sure the only thing you know how to say is my name after this,” 

He presses a sweet kiss to your dripping folds, nose brushing against your sweet clit, the tip of his tongue tracing your outer lips teasingly, “thought about this so long, dreamed about this sweet cunt, Princess — tastes and smells better than I ever imagined,” your fingers grasp at the strands of his hair, tugging the hair tie from his messy bun, toes curling into the sheets, “wanna spend all night buried in this pussy,” 

And his tongue licks a stripe up your cunt, ghosting over your entrance, before he’s circling your clit again. Moans leave your lips, again and again, lips closing over your clit to suck. Your muscles tense, back arching and your nails digging into his scalp, “barely even started, baby, don’t go cumming just yet,” 

“Sugu, please, more,” you whine, looking down at him, eyelashes nearly fluttering. 

His lips curl, “How can I say no to my favorite student?” And his fingers spread your sweet folds, your cunt fluttering around nothing, as he gathers your slick on his thick digit, working his way into your tight walls. 

You’re gasping at the way his finger sinks knuckle deep into your tight cunt, your insides wet and warm, “your pussy is as talkative as you are,” the lewd squelch of your walls fills the silence, “maybe even more,” as he begins to fuck you in earnest, “think you need more, don’t you, baby?” And he’s adding another finger, the delicious stretch making your mouth fall open at the intrusion of his fingers. 

You’re bucking against his touch, thighs shaking as you do, his fingers curling against that spot that has you moaning his name, his dick half hard already just from feeling your walls around his fingers. 

You’re so fucking close — the drag of his fingers against your walls, your hips meeting his thrusts, “good girl, you take me so well, can’t wait to sink into you, Princess,” and his lips find your clit again, teeth grazing it teasingly, “s’good for me, baby, you close?” And you’re nodding, walls fluttering around his fingers, and he grunts, “cum for me,” 

And you do, your head falling back onto the pillow, as you cum hard, his name on your lips, as your walls squeeze around his fingers. He finger fucks you through your orgasm, tongue lapping up your release, his lips leaving your clit with a pop. 

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, pulling his fingers around your sweet cunt. Your eyes flutter open, watching him lick his lips clean, before he meets your gaze, pressing his fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean, “sweetest thing I ever tasted, baby,” 

He’s kissing your thighs, as you come down from your high, teeth grazing the plush flesh of your inner thigh, sucking and pinching, before soothing it with his tongue, “s’good for me,” and he’s slinking back up your body, his hard cock catching on your clit, making both of you groan. 

“Please, Suguru, I need you,” your fingers find the back of his neck, threading through his hair,  and he smirks. 

“Look at my T.A., so needy for her professor,” and your fingers tug at his hair to pull the smirk off his lips, “I’d say you hold all the power in this relationship, Princess,” 

“Do I, now?” Your fingers curl around his length, teasing the leaking head with your thumb making him hiss. 

And his gaze meets you so earnestly, it nearly makes you melt, a gasp leaving his lips as he cups your cheek, “You could ruin my life, and I would thank you for it, if it was you,” 

“Suguru—“ 

“If you were going to use me, I’d tell you to use me. If you needed me, I’d want you to call me,” he leans down to kiss your forehead, “and If you didn’t love me, I’d love you anyway,” and he doesn’t let you respond, lips brushing against yours, as he gently moves your hand away, and lines himself up, the head of his cock rubbing against your sensitive clit, “are you ready?” 

And you’re nodding, a huffed chuckle escaping your lips, “Been ready for far too long — there’s no other electronics around here right?” 

He laughs, “No, just you and me,” molten lava stared back at you, a heat seeping into your skin as he guided himself into your fluttering cunt, inch by inch, as his name leaves your lips in a desperate moan that nearly has him cumming right then and there, not to mention how eagerly your pussy swallows his cock whole, “fuck, such a good fucking girl f’me, baby,” 

He split you open as he sunk into you, pretty walls stretching around him — delicious pleasure with an undercurrent of pain, soft praises whispered in your ears as he did, setting an agonizingly slow pace, “that’s it, baby, look at you, taking me s’well,” he’s pressing sweet kisses to your neck, as you bite your lip, “are you okay?” and he finally bottoms out, stilling as your walls clamp around him, a groan leaving his lips, “so tight, so much better than I could have imagined,” 

“Sugu, please, move,” and you didn’t need to say anything more — he starts slow, languid thrusts that drive him deeper into your cunt, his fingers lift your legs up, hooking them around his waist, and you wrap them even tighter, the tip of his cock hitting even fucking deeper, “fuck, Sugu, so deep, so good—” 

“You were made for me, just like this cock was made for you,” he grunts, the lewd squelch of your insides, the slapping of your skin against his, “been thinking about this for so long, pretty girl, never wanna leave this cunt,” his vulgar words only made your walls flutter around him, “trying to keep my dick, Princess? Don’t worry, it’s only for you anyway,” he teases, “my pretty girl’s cunt been denied twice — gotta make sure you learn your lesson this time, right?” 

And god you were — you were learning his shape, his length, the slight curve he had, every vein that lined his cock, every inch — and you’d be sure to memorize it. Because he may be reaching you this time — a moan leaving your lips as his cock kissed a particularly deep part of your cunt — but the next lesson, you would be sure to pass with flying colors. 

“S’close, Sugu, fuck, ngh—“ and he’s nodding, his fingers reach and rub your clit in circles, cock hitting that part of your cunt that has you seeing stars as pleasure rips up your body, as you cum. Your toes curl, fingers grasping at him to pull him impossibly close, His eyes flicker open, watching your cunt squeeze around his cock, a white ring of cum around his base, he fucked you through your orgasm. 

His hips begin to stutter, a groan pulled from his lips, “S’good baby, I’m close—where—“ 

“Inside,” and his dick twitch, “cum for me, Suguru,” and he does, notching himself deep inside you, as he spills his seed inside, thick spurts painting you walls, as he moans your name. His thrusts slow, his lips brushing against yours. And you smile up at him, still dazed, his softening cock still inside you, “well that was very unethical,” a giggle escaped your lips, and his lips curled, as he leaned up to kiss you again. 

“And how much more unethical would it be to do it again?” and you hum, as you flip him over onto his back. 

“It’s a sunk cost fallacy at this point, think we can get away with it now,” and your lips find his in a hot kiss, your teeth grazing his bottom lip, tugging at it as he pulls away. 

“A philosopher and an economist?” he chuckles, his lips grazing your jaw now, murmuring, “I learn more about you every day,” 

“I could cite Kant or Butler if you’d prefer—” and he’s grinding his hips under you, a gasp parting your lips, as his cock slides against your soaked cunt, “Sugu—” 

His lips curl in that damn smile, and all words fall away, as he kisses you, “I think I would rather listen to my name leave you lips instead, princess.” 

~~~

RING. RING. RING. 

Fuck. You give a soft groan — a dream again? 

A small sigh parts your lips, as reality washes over you. Eyes fluttering open and shut, as sleep pulls at your eyelids still. Your hands reach over to both sides, but find no one as expected, you sigh, rolling over and burying your face in your pillow. It was all soft sheets and shining sunlight — but no Suguru. You kicked your feet up and down, pouting. You thought you were over having those dreams. 

But then….why did it smell like him? 

“What are you doing?” And you snap up, turning quickly, the comforter sliding down slightly and find Suguru standing in the doorway of his bedroom, leaning against his door frame. He looks sinfully good — long hair still thoroughly rumpled from the night before, pretty lips a little kiss bitten red, only a black t-shirt and boxers thrown on, and his obsidian gaze fixed on you. 

“What—what are you doing?” And he raises an eyebrow. 

“Isn’t that obvious? Watching you,” he chuckles, as your cheeks burn, “can you blame me? I’m enjoying the view,” he teases, as you glance down and see that half the blanket had slid down, exposing your bare chest. 

You pull the blanket back on, wrapping it around yourself, “So one night in bed and the ethics fall out the window, huh?” 

“Well, you did a good job defenestrating them, didn’t you?” He chuckles, sipping his coffee, “have to take responsibility for your actions — it is your duty,” 

“Oh, it’s my duty now?” And he’s climbing back into bed beside you, “and what does this duty entail?” And he hums, as your fingers find the fabric of the front of his shirt and tug him close, before sliding up to wrap around his neck. 

“Well, Kant said, it’s not the consequences that matter, but the motives behind the actions,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over your jaw, “so what are your motives?” 

“My motives are…” you consider your words, as you suppress the moan from his teeth grazing his pulse, and you pout, “you’re distracting me,” and he laughs, the lovely vibration against your skin making you shiver, before he draws back, thumb drawing circles on your palm now, “I want to wake up with you, I want to fall asleep beside you, I want to hear about your days and your night — even ones I spend with you, and I’d say my main motivation is to be with you,” your fingers clasps his thumb, before slowly intertwining your fingers with his, “is that a sufficient answer, Professor Geto?” And he’s silent a moment, a sweep of anxiety rushes across your body, fingers grasping at the sheet hidden under the comforter, as you add, “but Kant would also argue that the behavior is not one done of good will since, even if the consequence is good, it’s not done out of respect for the moral law—“ 

And his lips find yours, cutting off your ramble mid sentence, letting each sentence, word, and thought burn under his touch, each brush of his lips and his hands — as one palm cupped your cheek, while the other found purchase on your thigh — erased more of your worries, until he finally parts—

“It’s always good, if it’s you that I have as my consequence,” and he erodes the last of your concerns with his words, as his lips find yours again, “I was going to make you breakfast,” he mutters against your lips, meeting and parting again and again, before he’s easing the blanket from your fingers, gaze darkening as he sees you fully. And he’s easing you onto your back, against the plush pillows and sheets, as he kisses a hot trail down your body, before he finds himself between your legs again, tongue darting out to lick his lips, “but I think I may have my meal first.” 

~~~

Suguru would have thought it was a dream, if he hadn’t woken first. To wake again in your arms, sunlight filtering through in his bedroom, your arms curled on his front, and your legs entangled, the warmth of your breath heating his skin, and your face tucked into the crook of his neck. 

He had to pinch himself to make sure, eyes drifting up to the ceiling to the same fan he had stared at on many sleepless nights with only thoughts of you plaguing his mind, before his gaze fell back to you — only to find you beside him now. 

There was no more perfect dream than this, but it wasn’t one, as the back of his fingers caressed your cheek gently, and you stirred only for a moment, a whisper on your tongue, “Sugu,” you murmured, lips parted as your nestled further into his chest, and his body burned with want. 

Fuck. He tried to shift his hips away from you — this wasn’t helping his early morning problem — now was it? He really didn’t want a repeat of the hotel bathroom again, but this time, he could take his time — because you both had it. The end of the semester had mostly come and gone — he could wait on grading the papers — if only it meant a few minutes more in bed with you. 

You woke up soon enough after he had left bed, hoping to start on the beginnings of breakfast, but he found himself feasting on another meal instead. 

“Sugu, please, s’close,” what was it about you that tasted so heavenly? He had spent his life pouring over ethical dilemmas and trying to tackle problems of moral truths, but as he brought you over the edge to your second orgasm, he couldn’t help but wonder if he should have spent his time buried in your cunt instead of books. 

He lapped up your release eagerly, teasing your swollen clit with the tip of his tongue before running a thick stripe up the length of your cunt, drawing another gasp from you — thighs shaking from pleasure. 

“Sugu, please, enough,” and he eases off, chin and lips still sticky with your cum, as his tongue darted out to clean some of it off, wiping the rest off with his arm, “I want you, please,” 

And fuck, he could cum just hearing those words from your kiss ruined lips, eyes blown out in lust, and your bare chest rising and falling. He drags his cock over your folds again, “need me again, Princess? Last night not enough for you?” he grunts when he watches your walls clench around nothing, as if to tempt his dick to sink into you. 

He bit his lip, it was working. 

Eventually, the two of you lie entangled again, a little stickier than before, your faces half an inch apart, and your fingers tracing his jaw. 

“I wish we could stay here in this bed forever,” you murmur, and he turns his head to brush his lips against your fingertips, soft kisses pressed to each one, his nose then rubbing against your palm, “no responsibilities, no reality, just us,” 

“Sounds like heaven,” he murmurs, words whispered against your skin, “of course I think any place with you is,” except when he can’t touch you, when he can’t kiss you, when he can’t smile at you without his heart aching — but he doesn’t say that, “we should talk shouldn’t we?” 

“We should,” your eyes meet his, an ache that only made the ache in him grow, “I don’t want to stop you from going to Kyoto,” 

“I would if it was for us, for you,” and your lips curl sadly, teeth bearing down on your bottom lip, as if to stop yourself from saying yes, that you’d let him — let him say no, let him keep his old job, let him stay in Tokyo. 

“But that’s exactly why I can’t do that, for you — you said you wouldn’t jeopardize my future, and I can’t do that to you too,” you say softly, pressing your forehead to his, “I can’t let you put your career on hold for us, I know you’ve wanted this. You must’ve since you applied,” 

“I only applied because I thought we would never—“ he cuts off, lump sitting on his throat, “I don’t want this to end before it’s barely started,” 

“Me either,” you say softly, and his lips brush yours — he didn’t want it to end, not now. Not ever. 

And then he realizes — it doesn’t have to. 

“Then we start there,” he says, as he parts from your lips, words said in the promise of the same breaths you both had just exhaled, “I’m not moving until next semester. We have two months of summer before I’ll be in Kyoto full time, and before you have classes again,” his fingers find yours, intertwining with his, hand engulfing yours, “We’ll live as philosophical presentists,” and you scoff, a smile pulling on your lips. 

“You don’t miss an opportunity to give a lesson, do you?” He gives a wry smile. 

“Take the professor out of the classroom—“ and you snort, “what I mean is let’s live in this moment — we could discuss the future and past all day long — but neither exist right now,” and he rests your palm against his cheek, fingers squeezing your own, “but we do, in this moment right now, so why don’t we savor it?” 

Your lips can’t help but curl into a smile, “How about instead of a drink you make me breakfast?” 

~~~~

Was it possible to get deja vu from an experience you hadn’t had yet? 

You step into Suguru’s shower, a distinct sense of deja vu settling over you as you wash yourself, the marks of the night before (and this morning) still littering your body, as if to remind you that it wasn’t a dream. 

It better not be, as you pinched yourself again, pressing your hands to your still hot cheeks, sticking your head under the water. God, this shower smelt like him, the scent of his shampoo and soap lingering in the bath, even after he had left. He had showered here this morning, after you had laid in for a bit longer, emerged from the master bath with only a towel around his waist, stray water droplets running down his chest, drenched black strands clinging to his skin. He had stood here, and washed himself — lathering his body, hands drawn up and down his muscles, from his shoulders to his chest to his stomach — lower and lower—

You bit your lip, as you pressed your thighs together.

No, no, if you did that and Suguru caught you, he would never let you live it down. You finish your shower, the squeak of the faucet as you shut the water off, before toweling off. You glanced at your clothes hanging on the towel rack outside the shower, rumpled from the night before, reluctant to pull it back on. Instead, you step out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around your body, 

You had a better idea. 

~~~

“You have good timing,” Suguru says, smile on his lips, as he folds the omelet, yours he had decided, as with pancakes, his first omelet has not come out as well as this one had, “not late for once,” as he carefully plates the other omelet with some rice as well as miso soup he had made the night before, “I—“ 

And he turns, words fleeing his mind, assuredly taking his several years of education and teaching with it, as all the blood from his brain floods downward. 

You were wearing his button up from last night, the wrinkled fabric draped over your body, falling past your thighs, the buttons mostly done, with a few top buttons unbuttoned far too teasingly — just one more and he could kiss your chest, two and he could— 

Fuck. 

“What?” You blink, chewing on your lip, “sorry I didn’t want to get back on my clothes from last night, so I stole your shirt, and uh,” your gaze shying away, “your boxers,” 

Self control. He had perfect self control — hell, this last year had been an exercise in self control — control from brushing his fingers over your cheek, control from saying anything that pushed the line any further than the two of you had blurred it, control himself from taking you in his office (though he had not controlled himself as more as he was interrupted — twice). 

But it was as if the dam had broken,  the small cracks formed in the concrete now had compromised the integrity of the barrier and had burst the night before, and now — he rounded the counter, his arms reaching for you — there was no putting the water back in the dam after a flood. 

Then again, he was more than happy to get swept away — if it was you. 

“Sugu—ummph,” his name was muffled by the namesake’s own lips, swallowing the rest of his syllables along with your breath. His hands rake down your sides, his large hands slipping under your shirt, finding bare skin underneath. 

“Nothing but my boxers and shirt?” He kisses your jumping pulse, lips lingering on your neck, as his hands squeeze your hips, “it’s like you knew what I wanted for breakfast, Princess,” fingers toying with the hem of the boxers you stole, “stealing isn’t very ethical,” 

“Neither is a professor sleeping with a student,” you said between gasps. 

He chuckles, “Well, a fair point, but let me remind you,” his fingers tease the elastic of his boxers you wore, the pads of fingers burning against your skin, as his erection pressed between your ass, drawing a gasp from your lips, “you wanted it,” 

“What’s gotten into you?” you murmur, as his hand dips into your boxers, your head pressed against his body, lips parted, as a ribbon of heat spreads like a fire in dry heat. 

And he knows exactly what’s gotten into him, his clothes on you, the scent of his soap and shampoo on you, and the way your body just melts under his touch—as your eyes drift to meet his own, looking up with lust scrawled across your features. 

“You just look like a dream,” and his body met yours with a practiced ease, as if he had loved you all his life, and not for the first time last night, “one that I’ve had for far too long,” he buried. His face in the crook of your neck, lips pressing careful kisses as if you’d disappear under his touch, “is this real?” 

And he doesn’t know why his breath catches at the question, a question he knows the answer to, because he knows you’re real, your warm skin under his touch, the pulse he felt racing under his lips — but he still worried he’d wake up in any second and you wouldn’t be here. 

You softly chuckle, pinching his arm, “you feel that?” And he nods, and you turn to face him, leaning up to kiss his lip chastely, “did you feel that?” And he’s nodding, eyes fluttering, before you kiss his neck, teeth grazing his soft skin there, a gasp parting his lips, as you lean back, a smirk pulling on your lips,  “and you definitely felt that,” you press your body into his, “this is real, I’m not going anywhere,” and he smiles, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you flush against him, “should we have breakfast now?” 

His lips curl, his fingers tilting your chin up, as he leans down to kiss you again, “in a minute.” 

Because now you both had plenty of those. 

~~~

“Where are we going?” 

Suguru laughs, you were sure his laugh was in the top five noises that he made — right between him whispering your name in the mornings  and the way he groaned when you teased him particularly badly. 

His eyes still fixed on the road, flickered to you for a moment while he drove, “The more you ask, the less likely I am to tell you,” and you pout, hiding the smile that creeped on your lips as you crossed your arms. 

After the day you two spent, the next day, Suguru had already made plans to take you on a date — only giving you a day or so to prepare. No instructions except to wear layers to keep a little warm. 

“You weren’t likely to tell me anyway,” he chuckles, as you glance at him again — it still almost feels forbidden as you did — he had opted for contacts rather than glasses, his hair tied in a bun as usual, lips curled in your favorite smile — you didn’t have to steal glances anymore, these glances were yours to have. 

It felt so different from that drive you had taken to the conference — it felt as if you were being suffocated by your feelings, sucking the air you breathed from your lungs as if to stop you from speaking because any word you spoke would only cross that line you couldn’t even toe without drowning. But now, that line wasn’t even blurred, it was gone, washed away by the decision the two of you made — and it couldn’t have been better. 

Because now you could do this. 

Your fingers rest on the gap of the console, before sliding over, and finding his thigh. His eyes slide over to you, “Need something sweetheart?” 

You hum, drawing circles on his thigh, “Wondering if I could convince you to tell me where we’re going with some extra credit?” 

“I don’t remember assigning any extra credit, plus you’re not being graded, but even if you were,” you smile, “you’d have at least a B+,” 

You gasp, “Suguru!” He laughs, even harder when he spots the pout on your lips, “I think I deserve higher than that,” 

He pulls up to a stoplight, fingers finding yours  “well maybe you can change my mind tonight,” 

“Will we ever get there? Or is it a ‘Waiting for Godot’ situation?” He snorts, as he intertwined his fingers with yours, lifting the back of your hand to his lips and holding it there. 

“I promise I’ll never keep you waiting,” and your gaze softens, as he continues to hold your hand as he drives. 

You smile, squeezing his hand, “Good, because I think we both have waited long enough.” 

~~~

“Is the blindfold necessary?” 

“Trust is essential to a relationship,” Suguru replied, his arm around your waist as the other hand held your own, a blindfold tied around your eyes, as he guided you somewhere — the blindfold had come a few minutes before you reached your destination, “don’t you trust me, princess?” 

“Oh I don’t know, it depends on whether you’re planning on murdering me and disposing of my body in the ocean,” and he pauses — you can almost see the furrow of his brow, “you may have blindfolded me but I can still smell,” the scent of sea salt carried by the cool breeze tickled at your nose, even as you still walked on pavement approaching the beach, you could faintly hear the distant sounds of waves crashing against the shore. 

“I suppose I should have gotten nose and ear plugs for my far too observant girlfriend,” and the title makes your heart squeeze, as his fingers squeeze your hand, before parting, only to brush against your hair as he undoes the blindfold, “well since it’s spoiled already,” 

The blindfold falls away, sunlight peeking through a moment, as the world comes into view — a beautiful sandy beach with salty waves parting through the shore, so bright as the sun reflects off the sand, making your eyes squint, only for Suguru to place sunglasses carefully on your face, “You came prepared,” your lips curl, as he tucks the blindfold away, and lifts up a picnic basket, “in more than one way,” 

“Well, I thought a picnic on the beach was a nice way to begin today,” and he pulls out a sunhat from his bag as well, placing on top of your head, “don’t worry, I have sunblock as well, in case we need it,” 

“You thought of everything, didn’t you?” and you look up at him, the light glinting off his flint eyes like sparks, “and now what’s my job here?” 

“Enjoy today, take in the view,” and your fingers brush his cheek, somehow warmer than before. 

“Funny, I thought I already was.” 

~~~~

“Are you cold?” Suguru murmurs, when he feels you lean on him, a slight shiver against his chest that runs up your spine, and before you can answer, he’s wrapping a blanket around the two of you. 

“Mr. Philosopher always has all the answers don’t you?” Another breeze has you moving even closer, as his palm moves to lean towards you, arm brushing against your back. 

“Not all the answers,” and he brushes a stray hair behind your ear, as his lips brush against it, “I still don’t know how you became so irresistible,” 

“All the ethics, of course,” and he snorts, as he hums, his hand sliding against your cheek, as his lips press against the soft skin beside your ear, “Sugu—” 

“Hm?” he leans back to listen so intently, noses brushing, and all the words you have slips off your tongue, every thought flies right out of your head, and all that’s left is the feeling of warmth that comes with being this close. 

God, he was unfairly gorgeous — even now, his hair unkempt from the wind as dark locks trickled out of his bun, his  skin painted with a pretty flush, and his warm body pressed against you made any thought of being cold evaporate. 

“Sweetheart? You okay?” he murmurs, fingers drifting over your cheek, a tilt of his head, and pulls you back from your reverie like the waves pulling more sand back into the ocean. 

“I’m okay,” you shake your head, as your fingers rest over his, leaning into his touch, “I just was thinking how perfect this moment was,” 

“And what’s so perfect about it?” 

“You and me, just,” you bite your lip, “I didn’t think it’d happen,” 

“Me either,” he admits, “I don’t ever want to hold you back — I couldn’t stand to be the reason for your unhappiness,” 

“I could never see you as that,” and his lips curl, “promise you’ll never leave me?” 

“Princess—“ 

“Just promise,” you murmur, “even if it isn’t real—“ 

“Who says it isn’t?” His lips brush yours, a heat that swallows your cold, creeping anxieties and burns them to nothing, “I promise, I’ll never leave you,” 

“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,” 

“Well, call me a Kantian,” he kisses you again, whispering these words against your lips, “because I intend to keep this promise.” 

~~~

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help?” 

You chuckle, glancing over your shoulder at Suguru looking perfectly lost as he stood, watching you, hands crossed if only to stop him from taking over. 

“For the millionth time, no,” you continue stirring the miso soup you were making, as you tenderized the chicken for the chicken katsu, “just keep me company,” you glance at him, biting your lip as your eyes raked over his outfit — a white shirt tucked under a navy pullover tucked into dark jogger pants, “and you’re already providing eye candy,” you teased. 

“Oh, am I?” He raised an eyebrow, and you turned back to the task at hand, as you set the meat tenderizer down, to prepare the chicken to be breaded, and his arms curled around your waist, “and what if I want you to use a little more than your eyes?” 

“Suguru, my dinner—“ but he continues, fingers brushing your hair aside, his warm breath turning your blood to molten molasses, “you’re making a habit of interrupting our meals like this.” 

“The only thing I want to eat is in my arms,” he kisses your neck, feeling you shiver, “there’s another philosophy — ‘the customer’s always right?’”

You laugh, warmth blooming in his chest at the sound, “this isn’t a restaurant, unless I’m charging you at the end of this,” 

“Maybe you should, I’d be more than happy to oblige,” and you hum as he trailed kisses down your neck to your shoulder — he never had a sweet tooth, but you were the only dessert he ever had craved. 

“Knowing you, it would also come with a review written in red pen,” and it’s his turn to laugh now, as you lowered the stove temperature on the soup, before turning to face him. 

He pulls you flush against him, “I’d hope you’d do better than a B+ this time,” and you glare at him, before your lips curl into a smirk, as you dare closer, your chest now pressed against his. 

“This time I will because my annoying prick of a professor is very much able to be persuaded by other methods not available to me at the time,” your lips ghost over his ear, just as your voice used to haunt him in his dreams, “but now, I think he’ll be quite amenable to my work,” 

“Don’t you want to earn your accolades?” and your smile is more wicked than the night itself, as you lean up to meet his own.  

“Oh I will be earning them,” your lips are so close he could feel the words you spoke as you did — every part of your lips, every flick of your tongue — and then he’s met with your fingers dragging flour over his cheek, “after dinner.” 

Suguru gaped at the flour smeared across his cheek, as you turned back around, the click of the burner as you turned it high again, “Was that necessary? You snorted, as you began to season the chicken, as he wiped the offending flour from his cheek. 

“Well, was it necessary to give me a 99 on the final paper?” 

~~~~

“Well, this is just unfair,” you sat in the middle of a cat cafe — arms crossed and biting back a small smile that threatened to bloom across your lips — the cutest one you had found in the heart of Tokyo that you had reluctantly dragged Suguru. 

He wasn’t a fan of cats or dogs, for that matter. 

But now, after paying the admission fee, and ordering your drinks, the two of you sat in an enclosure of cats you were far too eager to meet — and perhaps, they could sense it. 

“Did you break Kantian principles and lie about hating cats or is the universe playing a prank?” you watch as yet another cat approaches your boyfriend, an entire litter already taking up residence on any available real estate on his body, while you had only a single cat in your lap the entire time, as if it was taking pity on you. 

This was no better than when you were a T.A., swarms of students surrounding Suguru, while you were left with barely a soul. Apparently it applied to students and animals, and you felt a small twinge of jealousy — but you weren’t sure if you were more jealous of the cats or him. 

“I don’t hate them, I just don’t particularly want one of my own,” he shrugs, as he scratches the newcomer behind the ear, “but maybe you’ve changed my mind,” 

“I tend to have that influence,” and his lips curl. 

“I have seem to have developed a soft spot for strays,” and you gape at him, as he snorts at your aghast expression, a cat swatting at his bobbing bangs as he shook with laughter, “but you’re my favorite one,” 

“I better be,” you grumble, crossing your arms and pouting, before you watched him pet yet another cat that had made itself at home on your boyfriend’s lap. And you pull out your phone to sneak a few pictures.

“I wanted to ask you something actually,” he says as you glanced up from your phone, he bit his lip, a small hint of nerves apparent in his stiff shoulders and shy gaze, “I’m going to Kyoto next week to look for an apartment for when the semester starts,” and your heart sinks a little at the thought — the summer was half over already, and it was far too quick for your liking. The more you wanted time to linger, the more it seemed to escape you, “I wanted to ask if you’d like to come to see apartments with me,” 

You blink, you ask softly, “You want me to come?” 

He gets up, easing the cats gently out of his lap, as he makes his way to your side. He sits beside you, the cat in your lap, stretching its way between the two of you, as you rub his head.  

“I know we said we would see how this would go before the start of the semester, but I know what I want — I think I did from the very start of this,” he says, as his ebony gaze finds yours, “I want to be with you — and I’d like you to come with me to pick out an apartment, because I want it to be somewhere you want to be too—“ 

And you cut him off with a kiss, arms thrown around his neck — he freezes a moment, before melting into your kiss, his fingers cupping your cheeks, “We’ll have to make sure it’s pet friendly,” 

He chuckles, his forehead pressed against yours, “So we’re getting a cat?” 

Your fingers find his own as another cat brushes against both of your legs, “That or a poodle.” 

~~~

“What did you think of that place?” You ask as you both walk out of another viewing for an apartment, as he looks at the list he made on his phone, “it had good light, it’s close to the university, it’s pretty spacious,” But he’s sighing, as you tilt your head, “Suguru?” 

“Sorry, it’s nothing,” he’s shaking his head, “i think we should look for another place,” the same thing he had said for the last three places — he had found something wrong with each of them, but this one seemed different. 

“Why?” and he doesn’t answer, and you cling to his arm, a hand on his cheek to guide him to look at you, “Sugu?” 

He bites his lip a little, as he rubs the back of his neck, “it’s just far from the station so when you come to visit, it might be a little difficult for you,” and your gaze softens, mouth opening to reply, “I didn’t want to tell you because I know you would tell me not to worry,” and you close your mouth, and he chuckles, “I was right huh?” 

“Oh, a man is a smart ethics professor and he thinks he knows everything,” you kiss his lips, “you really don’t have to worry. We’ll make it work,” 

“I know, but the round trip on the bullet train is four hours, I don’t want to make you wait longer or waste even a minute of your time together,” he murmurs, as you twirl a dark strand of his hair between your fingers. 

“No moment spent getting to you or being with you is a waste,” you smile, fingers smoothing your boyfriend’s furrowed brow, “plus the train gives me time to catch up on my reading — and you’ll be coming to see me too,”

“I know, I just,” he sighs, leaning into your hand resting against his cheek, “I don’t want to ever be a burden,” 

“Not to me, it’s not a burden when it’s you,” your fingers find his and bring his knuckles to your lips, “you’re worth every minute,” 

“And you’re worth so much more than that,” and you smile against his skin. 

“Always have to one up me, don’t you?” And his arm wraps it’s way around your waist, tugging you close. 

His lips brush yours again, “Always, when it comes to caring for you.” 

~~~

“You found such a perfect hotel room,” you sighed, collapsing onto the pristine (not so pristine now) bed, your feet very sore from all the walking you had done over the last three days, “I’m glad you finally found a place you liked,” and he sits at the edge of the bed, beside you, as he chuckles at the sight of you laid starfished on the bed, “the apartment’s beautiful, close to the university and a station, and it allows pets,” 

His fingers find your foot, massaging the sore sole, bringing a low groan from your lips, eyes fluttering shut, “Good thing, otherwise, they’d never let me bring you in,” and your eyes snap open to playfully kick him and he laughs, as he stares at you, fingers ghosting over your ankle. 

“What are you staring at?” You tease, and he can’t help the words that escape his lips. 

“I love you,” and your breath catches, as your mind struggles to process the words that left his lips, and a chuckle leaves his lips, as he leans over on his elbow to hover over you, “I’ll say it again, as many times as you need to hear it,” 

“You will?” your lips curl into a smile, “because I think I would like to hear it again,” 

“I love you,” and his lips graze against yours, “I love you,” again, his lips linger a moment longer, “I love you,” again, “I love you—” 

And you kiss him this time, your fingers cupping his cheek, sliding to the back of his neck, as your forehead press together, “I love you too,” and he grins down at you, his lips finding yours again and again, pressing you into the comforter, “I love you, Suguru,” you murmur, his fingers skimming your cheek.

“You know you don’t have to say it back—” 

“I know,” you scoff, as you pinch his cheek lightly, “I said it because I meant it, I do love you, Suguru — I have for a long time,” 

He smirks, “A long time?” 

“Shut up,” you pout, and he’s laughing as he showers your face with soft kisses, “nooo, I changed my answer, I don’t know if I love y—” and he’s swallowing your words with another kiss — but this one is languid and deep, a heat that sinks in from his touch, as his body brushes against yours, until he finally parts to allow you both a breath, “not fair,” 

“Sorry sweetheart, no changing your answer now,” he runs his fingers through your hair, and you’re pulling him into another soft kiss, before you bury your face in his chest, and he gives a soft sigh, as the two of you cuddle, a small chuckle on his lips. 

“What is it?” 

“Deja vu,” and you blink, he laughs again, “the last time we were in a hotel together, we weren’t together, but we had these feelings, and now—” his lips find the top of your head, fingers running through your dark locks, “things are so different — it almost feels like a lifetime ago,” 

“It wasn’t that long ago, but I’m glad it feels that way,” your nose brushes against the hollow of his throat, “I want us to fill up our present with good memories, so that we don’t have any of those other ones linger,”

“I think we can manage that,” his lips glide against yours, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, “we should shower,” 

“We?” you raise an eyebrow, a heat that sparks and settles over your skin that only stokes brighter and hotter, when his hand runs down your side and squeezes your hip, “Sugu—” 

“Should we take a utilitarian approach? The benefits: it’s better for the environment to preserve water, we can stay close to each other as we clean our bodies, and reach the spots that are hard for us ourselves to reach. The costs would be,” his lips ghost your collarbone, “we would take longer thus using more water, we would get messier before we would get cleaner, and we might spend a lot more time in bed after,” 

“How is that a cost?” you slip off the bed, tugging your shirt over your head and tossing it at him, before pulling down your shorts, as you open the bathroom door, leaning against the door frame, “Are you going to show me the benefits of being my boyfriend?” 

~~~

“Suguru,” his name left your lips in broken syllables, as the head of his leaking cock teased your drenched entrance, your hands braced against the shower wall, the cold of the wet glass contrasting with the warmth of his body pressed against your back, “please,” 

“Please what, princess?” his lips ghost over your shoulder, licking a water droplet from your neck, as he moves a few wet locks to kiss the skin behind your ear, “You’re going to have to be more specific — I can’t help you, if you don’t tell me what you need — isn’t that the first thing I taught you?” 

“No, the first thing you taught me was to never be late,” you gasp as he allows his tip to sink into your needy cunt only a little, before he allows it to slip out, “fuck, Sugu, please, I want your cock,” 

“There we go,” his chuckle rumbles against your skin, as he guides his length to your dripping pussy before beginning to sink in, “I told you we would be in here for a while,” his fingers find yours, as he thrusts into you in one smooth movement, his balls pressed flush to your ass, “even your fingertips have become like prunes,” he turns your head to see your lips parted and panting for him, cunt twitching as he drags a thumb down your lips, “but my favorite student doesn’t mind does she?” and you whimper as he pulls his hips back, only to pump back in even harder, a moan leaving your lips, as he holds an arm around you to hold you, as he presses his other palm against the wall, as he starts to fuck you in earnest. 

The slaps of your wet skin echoes in the glass walls of the shower, steam from the hot water filling both of your visions, as his tip brushes against your cervix, “S’good, Sugu, so deep,”  your walls flutter around his dick. 

“Good girl, so perfect f’me, take me so well,” his balls slap against the soft flesh of your ass as he fucks you harder, “been thinking about this for so long, thought about taking you in that hotel room all those nights ago, and it’s better than I could have imagined,” one of his hands finds your breast, tweaking and pinching your nipple, as your walls only pull him in deeper and deeper each time he sinks back in, “perfect little princess cunt made f’me, only for me,” 

He’s desperate, as he fucks you deeper and deeper, “Please, I’m close,” your soft cries and moans will be the death of him. He’s turning your head and leaning forward to pull you into a kiss, a sloppy kiss that’s all tongue and teeth. His hands squeeze your hips as he rocks against you again and again, the wet squelch of your cunt ringing in his ears, until he finally hits that spot that has you seeing stars, pulling you over the edge. You cum, the coil in your stomach snapping as you do, your walls clamping down on his dick, as he notches himself deep and cums — spurting his hot release deep inside, as the two of you moan, lips parting. The quiet water drumming against his back fills the silence along with your soft gasps and his pants. The two of you slump forward in the shower, his arm braced around your middle, as his softened cock slips from inside. 

He presses soft kisses to your neck and cheek, whispering quiet praises, “Let’s finish washing up, baby, and I’ll help you into bed,” and you nod, boneless, as you lean against his chest, fingers brushing down his cheek, “are you okay?” 

You nod, as you lean up to kiss his lips, “More than, when I’m with you,” and you add with a dreamy smile, “especially when I find out you’ve fantasized about me,” his already flushed cheeks even redder than before, “you’ll have to tell me more about these thoughts,” 

“And if I refuse?” he murmurs, the blush kissing his ears now, the pink of his soft skin contrasting against the black of his gauges. 

You hum, “I have my ways of making you talk,” and he snorts, as your expression softens, “I love you,” 

He turns you gently, finding your lips in another kiss, your arms wrapped around his neck — and he can’t think of a place he’d rather be than with you, “I love you too.” 

~~~

“It’ll fly by,” you murmur, as you rake your fingers through his hair — you had convinced him to get a trim a week ago, the dead ends long gone, and all that was left were his gorgeous locks. He still opted for the long hair look — sometimes it was tucked away in a bun, other times it was half up, and even at times, he kept it down, “it’s two weeks, and then I’ll come by to visit you,” 

“It’s two weeks too long,” Suguru sighs, burying his face in the crook of your neck, “I’m sorry I had to do—” 

You place a finger over his lips, “Don’t apologize for furthering your career with something you’ve always wanted to do,” you cut him off, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “I only have one year left of the program, and then after that, we’ll see where we’re at—” 

He glances away, “I don’t know where either of us will be — but I know I want us to be together,” he bites his lip, and it only makes you want to kiss him all the more, “if that’s what you want too,” 

You pull back only to find his lips again, “You never mince your words do you, Professor?” You can’t help but smile at this man — the man you loved more than you could express in any combination of words. 

“Well, I find my most bright students need a more direct approach,” and you laugh, as he’s pressing needy kisses along your jaw, nosing the sensitive skin, “I think you’ll find it’s a tried and true method,” 

“Oh yeah, I’ve tried it — it’s very true,” as his lips kiss their way back to yours, “do you mean that? And what did you mean? Do you want us to live together or live in the same city—” 

“I would like us to live together, if we are at that point then,” his gaze meets yours, a hint of concern dancing across his ever furrowed brow, “I don’t want to pressure you — so why don’t we discuss that when we get there?” 

“Sounds reasonable,” your fingers smoothing his brow, “but for the record,” you kiss the tip of his nose, “I want to live with you too,” and you bite back a grin at the joy that evaporates the hints of worry on his features, “along with our non-negotiable dozen cats and adorable poodle,” 

He laughs, an easy smile that pulled on his lips, as it always did with you, “I told you, I don’t take in strays aside from you,” you grab your pillow and hit him with it, as he laughs, “ow, ow, I’m joking! I’m sorry—” and you’re giggling as he rips the pillow from your grasp, only to roll you over onto your back, “it sounds nice — a home with you — waking up next to you, planning our days, spending our evenings,” he murmurs, “feels like a dream,” 

You pull him into a kiss — you’ve had many dreams about this man before you — far too many sleepless nights hoping for this reality, only to have it ripped away. But you wouldn’t wake up from this dream, the back of your knuckles grazing his cheek, not ever. 

“It won’t be — not for long.” 

~~~~

“Still not awake? You’ll be late if you wake up any later,” a murmured whisper in your ear stirs you awake, words prying you from your unconscious, as you groan softly, limbs and eyes still so heavy with sleep. But you know you have to get up, part ways with your far too warm bed and the tempting grasp of your blanket. 

“Don’t wanna wake up yet,” and a laugh rings in your ear, lips pressing soft kisses to your neck, “noooo, please, five more minutes,” 

He relents as you stretch your limbs and stare at the spinning ceiling fan above you — your thoughts similarly circling the drain — you had a lecture, a presentation, a student council meeting to tend to — not to mention a meeting with your advisor and the department head about your thesis. 

You turn and cuddle into his chest, pressing soft kisses along the space where his collarbone and chest meet, you smirk against his skin as he shivers, as he murmurs your name. 

“What? I’m trying to wake up,” as you lean up and meet him in a lazy kiss, fingers finding the back of his neck, “what better way than this?” 

Today was going to be long, but you supposed it was worth it only to end up here at the end of the day, as you turn and run your fingers through his black locks, “What do you have to do today? First day of a new semester,”

“Two lectures and our meeting later today, and maybe lunch with you?” And your lips curl, as you pull your phone off its charger to check your emails. 

“Really? Lunch? You don’t think that wouldn’t rally scandal across campus two members of the student council conferring outside their meetings on the first day of spring semester?” And he laughs, turning to face you, his short black hair fell in messy tangled in front of his forehead, “might be tempting political intrigue, Yuta,” 

And your boyfriend only smiles, jet black short locks falling in front of his forehead as his fingers brush your cheek before he leans over to press a sweet kiss to your forehead, “I think we’ll be alright,” his fingers intertwined with yours, “we’ve been pretty lucky, don’t you think?”

It was so simple, it was so easy, and it was so right. 

And your phone flashed with a reminder that caught your eye: Meeting with Suguru Geto — the first time you’d see him in several months, the first time since you had broken up, and the first time since he had broken your heart. 

And Yuta called your name, his eyes curious, “You okay?” And you only smile, locking your phone and the glaring reminder away, to lean over and kiss your boyfriend. 

“More than okay,” as you slowly sit up, “come on, we can’t be late, can we?”  

✧ a/n: this has been a long time coming - so when i planned part three with hannah, it was supposed to have three arcs -- this is only one of them lmao - i suppose i was a bit too ambitious with what i thought i could contain in one part. anyway sorry about this ending lmao :) love you - don't worry they will all have a happy ending

✧ taglist: @hatsunemitskislobotomy, @difficultdomains, @diogodxlot, @that-goth-bisexual, @bash1018, @dazailover1900, @aliyalala, @ashhlsstuff, @blue041803, @mwtsxri, @bblgumfairy, @sukunasleftkneecap, @xo-evangeline, @fiannee, @teatreeoilll, @chalametet, @ryukaver, @d1gitalbathh, @saga3ious, @seventhcinema, @satosugucide, @your-l0nely-star, @sokkasmoon, @deegausserr, @hyookka, @oggsyy, @littlebitb, @higuchislut, @ti-mame, @itoshisins, @cerene-dipity, @onionsoop, @sinlillith, @izzythenaive, @akvrae, @lalacute03, @rxndou, @c-themoon, @xxrag-d0llxx, @hqtoge, @sugarxlumps, @hopeluna, @actualdeemon, @enchantedpendant, @serendididy, @soulstealercat, @neuviloved, @simply-a-s1mp, @satorusmochis, @maddietries,

[space-cowgirllll]

Crush

a/n: soft jackson ellie ily.

not proofread, if you see any mistakes look away lol.

She couldn't stop staring. Sitting on a cold bench in front of Jackson's little schoolhouse, she hides behind the astronomy book she'd recently found while out on patrol. Frozen fingers flip to the next page every couple of seconds, far too fast to actually retain any information. She watches you lead Joel to a particular part of the fence that has clearly seen better days. The wood is rotting and splitting apart in certain spots. No longer safe for the children who play nearby. You nudge the post with the toe of your boot, eyes widening when it topples over. 

Her eyes follow the curve of your neck as you throw your head back, laughing at something Tommy said. Your smile lights up your entire face, sending a flutter of giddiness through her body, almost as if it had been directed at her. She bites her lip, averting her eyes when you crouch down to inspect the damage. Where you found jeans that fit you like that in times like these she'd like to know. One more quick glance and she contemplates walking away, leaving Joel to get dinner by himself.

"What are we looking at?" A familiar voice whispers behind her, causing her to almost drop her book. She clutches it to her chest.

"Nothing!" She whips her head around to find Jesse and Dina behind her. The pair plop down on either side of her watching while the two men try to make the broken piece work until Joel can come back and replace it later. You stand off to the side chatting, not wanting to get in their way. Ellie marvels at how pretty you look under the street lights. Your hair a messy halo of waves, making you look angelic. 

"So," Jesse knocks his knee against hers "Are you ever gonna actually talk to her?"

"I talk to her!" Ellie scowls. "She comes over to Joel's for dinner once a week."

"Oh, we know." He interrupts "We've been invited."

"It was brutal."  Dina winces. 

The couple quietly tease Ellie, reminiscing over that night a few months ago. She had begged them to come and serve as a buffer between you and her. They spent the whole night watching Ellie try and fail to not make a complete fool of herself. Stumbling over her words and cracking lame jokes that left her screaming into her pillow later that night in embarrassment. Jesse's foot kicking her under the table when she stared for too long. Ellie listens with a pout on her face. 

"You guys are the worst." She groans. Her eyes travel back to where you stand, widening a little when she sees you already staring. There's a tiny smile playing on the edge of your lips. Heat rises to her cheeks when you send her a little wave. Sorry, you mouth, gesturing to Joel and Tommy.

Dina's giggle seems to catch your attention. You shift from Ellie's flushed face to the brunette beside her. The two of you share a look, seemingly having a conversation with just your eyes. There's a sly smirk on your face when you finally look away. Her brows furrow in confusion. In that moment, Ellie wishes she spoke girl better. 

"You know what? Surprisingly, I think she might like you too." Her best friend pats her thigh as she stands. "Do something about it before she finds someone else who will actually make a move." 

She grabs a confused Jesse by the hand, leading him in the direction of her house. The two whispering as they go. 

Ellie digs the heel of her sneaker into the ground, the thin layer of snow crunching underneath her foot. Most of the people in her life knew about her little crush. The way she offers to take your patrol shifts if it was too cold. Always on the lookout for things that would brighten up your small classroom. Volunteering when you ask for help with random little tasks during town meetings. She isn't as subtle as she thought. There's no way you don't know she's spent the past year and a half pining after you and haven't said anything. 

Not only is she ridiculously awkward, Ellie speculates your disinterest also comes from the three year age gap between you two. At twenty four, you probably see her as a little girl with a crush. 

She can see how much you enjoy spending time with Joel, especially after your grandfather's passing. She would hate to ruin that for you. It's better for everyone if she keeps her mouth shut.

____

It isn't until a week later that Ellie sees you again. She's shirtless in the middle of her makeshift home in the garage just feet behind Joel's house. There's a small pile of discarded tops sitting at the foot of her bed. She huffs, trying to find one that nice enough, but doesn't make it look like she tried too hard.

You stopped by the stables in the morning, making plans with Joel for dinner and a game of poker. Ellie hid behind Shimmer, trying to think of a way to get out of tonight when a look from Joel told her she had no choice. She fumbles with the last couple of buttons on the flannel, too lost in thought to hear the sound of the door opening. 

"Ellie, food's read- oh!" 

"Shit!" She spins around to find you standing in the doorway, eyes fixed on her panicked face as she pops the last button open. Ellie shoves her arms into the sleeves of the maroon flannel she'd borrowed from Dina, knowing it probably matched the color of her flushed cheeks. At least she'd thought to put on a bra.

"In my defense, I knocked twice." You state as you slowly make your way around the room, pausing to inspect the posters hung on her walls. She watches you pick up the comic she'd thrown on the coffee table earlier. Your eyes light up in recognition. "Oh hey! My grandpa used to read these to me. I think I have some you're missing if you ever wanna see them." 

Her breath catches in her throat at the prospect of spending more time with you. "Really?" She grins. "I'd like that."

You nod, walking slowly towards her. Your footsteps loud in the quiet room. Ellie watches the way your piercing gaze roams her face, slipping to her exposed torso for just a second before locking eyes with her. She hopes you didn't hear the embarrassing way her breath hitches when you replace her clumsy fingers with yours. Ellie basks in the warmth radiating from your body as you button up her shirt, your warm breath hitting her temple. 

"Cute." You smirk looking down at her. "Really makes your eyes pop." Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, you step back towards the door. "Don't make us wait too long."

Ellie stands frozen, heart pounding in her chest, listening to your retreating footsteps wondering what the hell just happened.  ——

After another slightly awkward dinner, she was shocked when you showed up at her doorstep again that night, this time waiting until she opened the door. Giving her a shy smile, you'd held out a box full of old comics, letting her know there was no rush on returning them. Ellie still remembers the grin that bloomed on your face when she'd invited you in. 

The two of you rarely left each other's side after that. Your friendship blossoming in the months that followed. It helped that you liked to talk and Ellie liked to listen to you talk. Most nights were spent together, either at your place or hers. She loved it when you read to her while she drew in her sketchbook. Some nights she would attempt to teach you how to play some of her favorite video games, enjoying how cute you looked when you were pouting after losing to her. The two of you had even started growing a dvd collection, always fighting over what movie to watch (she let you win almost every time.) 

She couldn't believe how quickly you'd become such a big part of her life. Ellie still had the urge to pinch herself on the mornings when she'd wake up to you sleeping soundly next to her. And on the nights where she'd stay awake, late into the early hours of the morning, memorizing every inch of your face, the magnitude of her feelings for you scared her. She'd do anything for you. 

Which is how she finds herself standing in the corner of the room nursing a drink, doing what she does best - watching you. You've been looking forward to the winter dance for weeks, begging Ellie to come with. The sweet look on your face when she walked through the door sent a rush of excitement through her.

You stay by her side all night until one of your friends pulls  you to the makeshift dance floor, managing to get Ellie out for one song before she quickly retreats back to where she was despite your protests. You're glowing under the twinkling lights, dancing and singing your way around the room. The navy blue sweater she'd gifted you for Christmas last month fits you like a glove.

"So where's your girl?" She looks up to find Jesse standing there, his face covered in a thin sheen of sweat from dancing. Dina's laugh sounds off from somewhere behind him.

Ellie chokes on her drink "She's not my girl." She says through a nervous chuckle. 

"You mean to tell me you follow her around like a lost puppy and you'll sleep in her bed but you won't tell her how you feel?" 

She shifts nervously from one foot to the other. "We're just friends. I sleep over at Dina's all the time."

"You don't look at Dina the way you look at her." He sighs looking out at the crowd of dancing people. "All I'm saying is it's only gonna get worse the longer you ignore it. Are you prepared to be her friend while she dates someone else?"

Ellie's eyes follow to where he's currently staring. Bile rises in her throat as she watches you dance with someone else. Twirling around with another woman, her hands where Ellie's had been just minutes before. Her hand grows clammy around the glass. The blonde kisses you. Her lips far too close to your mouth for it to be friendly. Before she knows it, she's pushing past her friend and rushing out the door. 

The chilly January wind bites at her face as soon as she steps outside. Blood rushes in her ears as she quickly walks back towards her house. She's mad. Mad at Jesse for being right. You for leaving her standing there alone. But mostly she's mad at herself. What had she been thinking? That she would just get to know you more and not fall even further? Her cold palms press into her eyes, trying to alleviate the stinging sensation. This crush was going to ruin her. 

She stops just feet from her door, digging into her pocket for her key. Footsteps that are not her own pound on the snowy pavement behind her. "Ellie!" 

Her eyes squeeze shut, regretting not walking faster. She wants nothing more than to freak out while buried underneath her covers. For the first time ever she doesn't want to see you. 

Your hand grips her bicep, spinning her around to face you. "Els what's wrong?" 

"Nothing 'm jus tired." She mumbles shrugging you off and taking a step back. Your lips pull down into a frown at her actions. 

"Why didn't you tell me? We could have come back together."

She scoffs. "You seemed a little busy. Didn't wanna bother you." 

"Ellie-"

"Caroline's great." She interrupts. "Word around town is she has quite the crush on you. If you wanna go back don't let me stop you."

"Oh my god shut up." In the blink of an eye she find herself up against the wall, your body caging her in. Your hands fly to the back of her head, fingers tangling in the short strands of her newly cut hair. You tug gently, forcing her to look up at you.

"She kissed you." Ellie whispers looking like a kicked puppy. 

"And if you had stayed long enough you would have seen me brush her off." You cup her face, slowly dragging your thumbs across her cheeks in a soothing manner. The tenderness in your eyes will forever be ingrained in her mind. "There's only one person I want to spend my night with and she's right here."

"Really?" You nod, brushing the tips of your noses together.

"I don't want to be just your friend Ellie," You whisper against her lips, your breaths mingling together. Her ears ring at your confession, and she hopes you can't hear the way her heart is pounding. "and I know you don't either. I've been waiting for you to make the first move, but I'm real tired of being patient baby." 

Your lips press against hers in a soft kiss. It's hesitant at first, giving her the option to pull away. You see her eyes flutter shut, shaky hands wrapping around your neck. She whines quietly, wanting more. Her fingers slip down and hook onto your belt loops, pulling you in and deepening the kiss. Your tongue is soft and warm in her mouth, sliding against hers as you press her further into the wall. She shivers when your cold hands caress the warm skin of her lower back. 

Ellie's head goes fuzzy at the feeling of your thigh slotting in between her legs. Her hips seem to have a mind of their own as she slowly rocks back and forth on it, the seam of her jeans giving just enough friction to provide some relief. 

Her soft mewls and the wet sounds of your mouths fill the air. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realizes you two are still outside, where anyone walking by can see. You need to go inside. She just can't find it in her to care at the moment. 

Hands slide from their place on your hips to cup your ass, squeezing harshly, drawing a groan from you. "Hmm. Do you wanna know how many times I've caught you staring at it?" You ask as your mouth pulls back to kiss down the column of her throat. Teeth nipping the soft skin there. Ellie laughs breathlessly in response, somewhat lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. The dazed look in her eyes sends a jolt of heat through you. 

"Ellie?"

The two of you rip apart at the sound of Joel's voice. He stands just outside of his back door, the concerned look on his face vanishes when he spots you and Ellie off to the side of the garage. 

"You two alright out there?" 

You want to laugh at the clear discomfort and amusement in his voice. "Fine Joel, just walking her home."

"Uh huh." He doesn't sound convinced. "Well, best get inside before the snow picks up."

"Right. Good night!" 

Ellie rushes to unlock the door, pulling you in and slamming the door shut. 

"How did you know?" She asks, playing nervously with her fingers. Her freckled face deliciously flushed. A love bite peeking through the collar of her hoodie. 

"You weren't good at hiding it. I had my suspicions." you giggle, intertwining your fingers with hers. "Dina also might have put in a good word. Said I would love you if I just got to know you better."

"And?"

"She was right."

[hawkins-batman]

The Noah Schnapp Situation Going Into S5

With Stranger Things Season 5 coming out this year, we are unfortunately going to see a revival of the debacle around Noah, even though by then it will be an almost 2 year old subject. So, I thought I would get ahead of that with some of my thoughts based on what I've seen these last few weeks and more broadly over the last 6 or more months I've been on this scene.

Spoiler Alert: This is going to be a long one. It'll probably be my new pinned post.

Why Still Talk About It?

Frankly? Because it's still going on. Keep in mind, Liam Payne died in October 2024 (just three months ago), right around Noah's birthday, and THIS is how Twitter responded to that.

And just in case anyone thinks I had to dig back a whole 3 months to find Noah-hate-content on Twitter, here was just random things I grabbed from the last week:

Which brings me to the next point.

Why Do You Even Care?

"Noah doesn't know you." "He's not your pookie."

I know that. The funny thing is, from what little I know about Noah, I'm pretty sure if he DID know me beyond the ONE DM conversation we've had, he'd probably tell me to chill. Dude is very non-confrontational and nice. So, why do it?

Because I think the online movement in favor of Palestinian self-determination has been hijacked by teenagers and performative leftists who care more about looking good for their peers than practicing what they preach.

Because (as you can see above and in screenshots like the one below), people who claim to hold my liberal/progressive/left-leaning values have used this as an opportunity to be openly homophobic and antisemitic towards a then-19-year old who had JUST come out of the closet.

Proponents of the hate campaign against Noah have said that they are just "holding him accountable" or "criticizing him" in the hopes he "learns something."

Look up. Point to me which image is accountability. Point to me the valid criticisms.

There are none. There is just flagrant homophobia. And then there are posts like this one, coming from the same crowd:

This behavior is wrong on its face.

It is violent. It is bullying (which doesn't seem like strong enough of a word) and it's bigoted.

Wanna see more? Look up @noah_schnapp on Twitter/X. See what they've done to his account.

Inevitably, some of the people participating in this will see this blog post. If you've made it this far, this is for you:

This behavior discredits your activism. It makes you look performative and fake to say in one breath that you are a "Leftist" who cares about Palestinian lives as well as the lives of minority groups worldwide, and then to turn around and talk like this about a Jewish person and a gay KID. Because he WAS a kid when this started. Furthermore, it makes it clear to those of us who actually hold the beliefs we claim, that you are vapid enough to use Palestinian suffering for your own personal vendettas. That the APPEARANCE of goodness is more important than goodness itself. And that you will shuck solidarity with minority groups the MOMENT one of them steps out of the lines you have drawn around them.

Not to mention...

It's Based Mostly On Lies

As a reminder, this is what Noah Schnapp actually said shortly after October 7, 2023:

Read that again.

"...we will hope and pray for safety, justice, liberation, and self-determination in Palestine." That was part of the very first thing he ever said about the issue.

And then this happened:

This was the image he was crucified for.

Stickers that weren't even his. That he wasn't holding up or making. He was in a cafe, someone else came up to him with them, and he was videoed with that person.

That's it. That's all. All those tweets you saw above? The fake stories made up about him like this one?

All of that was supposedly "accountability."

The harassment of his family. Murder threats. Rape threats. All for stickers that weren't even his.

There's even a paid Stranger Things author on this very site, styling herself as a Byler shipper, who has contributed to the lies that have further added to the hate campaign I've described.

As an aside, Noah wasn't the only one in that video. The influencers that actually posted the video and HAD THE STICKERS?

Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

And just to be clear - I don't think they should get hate. I think non-Jewish online Leftists appropriated a term from Jewish culture, redefined it, and are weaponizing it to beat down Jews all over the internet—which is par for the course for this charcuterie board of performative activism.

Yet the point stands. Noah was specifically targeted; and the homophobia that IMMEDIATELY came from the Left suggests to me that it was his sexuality and cultural/religious identity that motivated the attacks.

Again, I'll say, this is wrong.

Noah Has Since Responded

It hasn't stopped the bullying.

Didn't stop him from withdrawing from spaces he loved. From needing therapy from what we've learned from his now-deleted second TikTok.

And that really says something, does it? He cleared up his point. He tried to clarify and even apologize.

They didn't accept it. Not because it wasn't good enough. Not because it was "too late." Because this was the point. They wanted to keep doing it. They get sick joy from it.

Which is why...

I'm Not Shutting Up About This

This post doesn't even nearly cover the whole situation. The Byler fans who try to replace Noah's image in fan art and fan fiction. Who fan cast themselves as Will instead of Noah. The stalking and doxxing on Twitter. People reporting to GIANT hate accounts his location and when he's alone, PRAYING for him to be hurt.

I wish I could cover it all.

We have to stand up to this. On tumblr, on TikTok, on Threads, Twitter/X—everywhere we see it.

For our gay and Jewish siblings who see how Noah was attacked and feel less safe in their online spaces as a result, we have to speak up and say something.

And yeah. We have to say something for Noah, too.

The person who replied to me like this:

Him?

He did it because he needed to see a show of love from his fans. Doesn't mean he's perfect. Doesn't mean he won't mess up or do something in the future.

And no. Standing up for Noah, or for Jewish people, or other gay folks does not make you a genocide supporter or apologist. It doesn't mean you want any innocent people harmed. Don't give them the power to talk down to you like that. It's bullshit. You know it, and I know it.

All standing up to this vile shit is is an acknowledgement that Noah is a living, breathing person, as some of these people tend to forget.

And he didn't deserve this.

Any of it.

[bluehoodiewoozi]

Fools in Love

Kim Mingyu x fem!Reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff

Words: 10.5k

Warnings: adult language. mentions of stalking (no one’s actually stalked). reader has a lot of conflicting feelings and it takes her three to five business days to figure everything out.

[UNI AU] When Jeonghan made you declare a stranger in the library your new boyfriend, you had a very different outcome in your mind.

Note: for some reason, my bestie @luvlino really liked this fic as a WIP and I promised to finish it for her eventually, so here we are. anyways, we've been referring to this fic as "himbo!gyu" all this time

You should’ve known it wouldn’t end well. 

The first sign should have been the shiver up your spine when Jeonghan’s lips quirked into a smile that you knew far too well. The second sign should have definitely been your voice of reasons cursing and hatching ridiculously elaborate escape plans. 

He leaned forward against the table between you two, maintaining eye contact. “So what do you say?”

“Sorry,” you blinked and shook your head, “I wasn’t paying attention. What were you saying?”

Jeonghan clicked his tongue. “Of course you weren’t.”

“When is she ever?” Joshua half-joked, nose deep in an oddly specific magazine he’d picked up in a procrastination daze. He looked up briefly to give you a once over before humming to himself, “Honestly, it might be for the better.”

“As I was saying,” Jeonghan glared at Joshua before offering you a sickeningly sweet smile – and there was that shiver up your spine again –, “go up to pretty boy over there and tell him he’s your boyfriend now.”

“I don’t even like him,” you muttered, glancing at the boy as discreetly as you could. You almost bit your tongue at your hasty words because the slight furrow of his brow and his jawline had your heart screeching. You frowned, head whipping back to look at Jeonghan. “Wait, what’s in it for me?”

If his wide eyes were anything to go by, he was as clueless as you were. With a sheepish shrug, he offered, “I’ll buy you a candy bar? You like Snickers, right?”

You stared at him in wonder for a while but were soon interrupted by Joshua’s scandalised gasp. “Is it because Snickers is on sale at the convenience store this week?” 

Jeonghan blinked slowly. “Why else?”

Your gaze drifted back to the mysterious student sitting across the library, now scribbling notes in his iPad between puzzled head-scratches. The part of you that wanted to say ‘fuck it’ and go through with the dare was growing by the second.

But before you could agree, the dad friend of the group finally decided to speak up. Seungcheol placed a hand on your shoulder and looked you right in the eyes. “You do know that you don’t have to agree to every bet Jeonghan gives you, right? Please tell me that you know that.”

Seeing the worry in his eyes, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you were starting to develop a gambling problem with the help of Yoon Jeonghan. But what’s one more bet anyway?

“One Snickers bar?” you repeated back and Jeonghan nodded. Your eyes narrowed. “Make it three and a can of cola.”

He had the audacity to gasp. “That’s robbery!”

“Not if you’re the one paying,” Joshua pointed out rather off-handedly, still more focused on his magazine. (You took a moment to identify the issue in his hands as ‘Practical Sheep, Goats and Alpacas’ and once again wondered how you became friends with this gem of a human.)

Jeonghan grumbled, slumping in his seat. “Fine. Three Snickers bars and a can of cola, but you have to go up to him and tell him he’s your boyfriend now and then walk away like nothing happened.”

“Bet.”

Beside you, Seungcheol sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I should’ve just joined the Italians for that group project back in the first year. Why did I choose you idiots instead of the Italians?”

“You love us.” Jeonghan winked. He then slumped in his seat, a soft pout on his lips. “By the way, speaking of the Italians, I found one of the girls crying last night.”

“Crying? Why?” you wondered. “Was she okay?”

“Apparently her boyfriend broke up with her, over text no less,” Jeonghan sighed, filled with compassion as always. “She looked really heartbroken. I had to comfort her for hours.”

Joshua frowned. “So that’s where you were.”

“Did you find out who the jerk was?” Seungcheol asked. “You should’ve at least gone and given him a good slap upside the head.”

“Kim Mingyu. That’s the jerk’s name.”

Seungcheol grimaced. “That guy deserves even worse. I swear there seems to be another heartbreak with his name written all over it every three days.”

“Well, anyways!” Jeonghan cheered up again, clapping his hands together excitedly. “You get to be the heartbreaker today, oh my dear (Y/n).”

“When are you going up to him then?” Joshua wondered, setting his magazine aside as curiosity took over. For someone claiming to be well-mannered, he sure loved any implications of impending drama. “I’m not sure how long he’ll stay cooped up in here.”

You rolled your eyes and got up, grabbing your bag and phone. “I’m going now and leaving you guys behind.”

“Oh, right!” Seungcheol smiled. “You said you’re going plant shopping, right?”

“Plant shopping?!” screeched Jeonghan, clearly caught unaware. “Don’t you already have, like, three plants?”

“I don’t have a neon pothos yet,” you reasoned timidly. Joshua nodded in approval as Seungcheol watched you with a fond smile, much resembling a proud father. 

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow before turning to Seungcheol. “And you’re telling me that I am a bad influence on her?”

“I’m going!” you called out softly, slow steps leading you away from the four-seat table in the art section of the library. You watched warily as the boys argued between themselves. “Guys?”

“– and just the other day you told her to –” Seungcheol interrupted himself with a cough to offer you a bright smile, silently asking you what you needed.

“I’m leaving,” you whispered theatrically loudly and nodded towards the mysterious stranger in front of whom you were about to make a fool out of yourself. 

As always, Jeonghan was the first to catch on. He offered a wink. “Good luck, baby.”

You felt your lunch crawl up your throat at the nickname and the suddenly wide eyes of Joshua told you he felt the same way. You shook it off and headed towards the exit.

On the way out of the building, you took a deep breath and stopped in front of your victim’s desk. Feeling like a middle-schooler preparing to recite a poem by heart, you clasped your hands in front of your body and cleared your throat.

At the sudden interruption, the handsome man glanced up, eyes wide in surprise. He mirrored your smile, setting his pen aside as he waited for you to speak.

You didn’t need to look back to feel Jeonghan’s and Joshua’s curious stares on you. But you were nothing if not a good sport, so you forced your smile to brighten a little bit more before looking the man in his eyes and announcing, “As of right now, you are my boyfriend.”

If you hadn’t been the cause of it, the sudden drop of his jaw and the bulging of his eyes would have amused you beyond human comprehension. But unlike Jeonghan and Joshua, you did have an ounce of dignity and compassion, so you offered one last smile before scurrying out of the library.

As you set foot outside the library, you left behind a confused man and a half-hearted promise.

You spent the rest of the week praying and hoping and praying again that you wouldn’t run into the tall mysterious stranger who had become your friends’ newest inside joke. So far, you've been successful.

“Here,” Jeonghan slammed three Snickers bars down on your desk on Monday and sighed, “your payment.”

Your eyes naturally fell into a suspicious squint. “Where’s the cola?”

Jeonghan offered a tight-lipped smile and a pat on your shoulder. “Jihoon needs it more than you do. Think of the children, Y/n.”

You failed to see how Lee Jihoon who had just three days ago publicly threatened to choke Kwon Soonyoung with his freshly broken guitar string could be considered a child, but you assumed there was a good reason. So you decided to let it slide just this once (or at least until Joshua would feel bad for you and buy you the cola himself).

Until then, you would take what you could get. 

Frankly, by this point, you were starting to forget about the library incident. It was just a bet like every other. This was no different from the time when Jeonghan dared you to guilt-trip Seungcheol into giving you his favourite hoodie. 

Except when you caught the eye of a handsome stranger as he walked into the classroom, you knew that was about to change. His lips slowly curved into a smile and you just knew that this was the end of your life as you knew it.

Instinctively, you shuffled around to make yourself seem as small and insignificant as possible. The ceiling looked far more attractive than ever before while you hoped that maybe this man had terrible eyesight and he’d mistake you for part of the furniture. Or maybe he’d at least buy into the idea that it had been a different girl who harassed him at the library.

“I knew I recognized you from somewhere,” the man spoke a bit too smugly as he approached the desk you and Jeonghan had chosen for the lecture. His smile brightened even more. “I guess I’m your boyfriend now.”

But before you could protest or even comprehend what was happening, he winked and headed further back into the classroom. When you glanced over your shoulder, you found him sitting next to Jeon Wonwoo, a smile on his face. He offered you one last (and, in your opinion, excessive) wink before turning back to his seatmate.

You turned to glare at Jeonghan who looked just as baffled as you felt. Under your threatening stare, his silence slowly turned into nervous laughter. “Well… That was not the outcome I expected…”

“Oh, it wasn’t?” you couldn’t help but bite back before groaning and hiding your face in your hands. “Has he been in this class this whole time?”

“I guess he always sits towards the back,” Jeonghan concluded slowly, “so we wouldn’t have seen him but he would have seen us.”

You wished he’d come to that conclusion a few days earlier. “You owe me that cola and then some more, Yoon.”

Sitting across from you at the little campus cafe, Joshua shared a glance with Seungcheol. The latter shrugged so he decided he had to be the one to take action. 

“So,” he started somewhat hesitantly, fully aware of what an angry you was capable of, “do you want to tell us what happened?”

“What do you mean?” you feigned ignorance all the while aggressively stirring your soup of the day. “Nothing interesting ever happens here.”

Thoroughly unconvinced, Seungcheol raised an eyebrow. “Sure.”

“I think something happened in class today,” Joshua elaborated slowly. It was only then that you remembered he had taken a fair share of psychology classes. “Do you want to talk about it? Was it Jeonghan again?”

As both a surprise and the expected outcome, you slammed your spoon on the table. “That jerk! Do you know what he did?”

Joshua’s almost failed attempt to swallow down a sarcastic comment could be seen by any bystander but you paid it no mind.

“Do you remember the guy from the library? You know, the one.”

“The tall guy?” Seungcheol wondered. You nodded. “I remember him.”

“Turns out he’s in our literature class!” You clapped your hands together in a fit of rage. “And now I have to spend the rest of the semester in the same room as him every Monday.”

Joshua blinked. “That doesn’t seem too bad.”

“He winked at me today. Twice. And he kept smiling at me too.”

“Oh.” Joshua tried to find a different word of comfort. He was out of words for the day. Perhaps his last psychology essay had really stolen half his personal dictionary. “That’s… rough, buddy.”

“Speaking of the devil,” Seungcheol whispered so faintly you barely heard. He glanced towards the door and surely enough, as if he’d heard your words in the wind, the man of the hour walked into the cafe. 

You almost swooned at the way his shirt rode up a little as he stretched his arms up and at the smile and friendly greeting he offered the cashier. His voice soon filled the cafe with a sense of warmth, like he belonged right there. 

“Busy day?” you heard him as the cashier as he made his way behind the counter. “Lots of customers today?”

The cashier chuckled. “Nothing more than usual. They’re your customers now though.”

You turned to Joshua and Seungcheol again, hiding your face behind your strategically placed menu. “He works here?!”

“Listen, I was not any wiser than you,” Joshua justified with wide and apologetic eyes. “Maybe he won’t recognize you.”

“I’m highly doubtful,” Seungcheol pointed out rather lazily, leaning his head against the cool glass of the window. “He’s recognized her once, what’s a few more times?”

You were deeply grateful for the silence that took over afterwards, happily ignoring the silent conversation of blinks and nudges your two friends were having. You lifted your hood up and stirred your soup a few more times before taking your first spoonful – the sooner you start, the sooner you finish, and the sooner you can leave this personal hell of yours to hide in your bedroom.

“Well, I think Cheol had a point in that,” Joshua suddenly whispered, nudging your leg under the table. For once, you had no intention to look up.

With a soft clink, a plate was placed on the table. You found a piece of the cake of the day in front of you and glanced up. The ‘boyfriend’ offered you a wide smile and nodded to your food. “Eat well. Cake’s on the house for you, sweetheart.”

Without another word, he shuffled back to the counter and resumed his task of re-organizing the cake display. 

“...Did that just happen?” Seungcheol wondered, eyeing your cake in a way that made you wary with good reason. “And can I please have a bite?”

You blinked and pushed the plate towards your friend. His smile lit up the room as he reached for a spoon and began munching away. When you glanced towards the counter again, you found your ‘boyfriend’ watching you with a sweet smile, a puzzled look in his eyes and a puppy-like curious tilt to his head. 

Promptly you made the decision to avoid this cafe at all costs.

The mysterious boy who hadn’t existed to you just a week ago suddenly seemed to be following you around like a shadow. He was everywhere you went. It almost felt like a bad dream.

He had already chewed you out of your favourite cafe and now he seemed determined to make it so there was nowhere you could go in peace.

You’d go to class, and 6 out of 10 times he was there too, already nose-deep in his notes at the back of the classroom. There was nowhere you could sit to hide from the glint of recognition in his eyes and the charmingly bright smile he directed your way each time.

You’d go to the grocery store and voila! He was there! Picking out watermelons like he knew exactly what he was doing (you were fairly sure he didn’t because, honestly, who even knows how to pick out watermelons?).

You’d go to the park across the street from the dorms and turn back on your heel because he was, once again, there, flexing his muscles as he warmed up for a run with his fratboy friends. 

“I honestly think you’re being a little bit overdramatic,” Jeonghan told you softly as you attempted to hide behind a bookshelf at the library. You paid him no mind.

The mysterious ‘boyfriend’ was here as well. You had almost betrayed yourself and squeaked when you recognized him reading a book synopsis right next to you.

“Maybe he’s stalking me. Maybe that’s why he’s always exactly where I am,” you theorised while watching him like a hawk from your hiding spot. Jeonghan leaned his head out of the shadows to take a good look at the boy but you harshly pulled him back to hiding by his collar. 

You glared at your friend before whispering, “You’ll get us caught like this, idiot!”

He raised an unimpressed brow. “Are you sure he’s the one stalking you and not the other way around?”

“I– That’s impossible! Who do you think I am?!” You so wished to curse him out but you still had some manners left. You scoffed. “Just shut up and let me suffer in peace.”

When you turned back to watch the mysterious guy, however, your soul almost left your body. He was right there –  right in front of you, leaning against the bookshelf – smiling at you like it was the most natural thing. 

“Hi,” he spoke. You wished his voice wasn’t so enjoyably husky. 

You offered a tight-lipped smile, hand already reaching for Jeonghan’s sleeve to drag him out of the library and give him another earful for putting you in this situation. “Hi.”

It was hard to tell which was worse: the adorable smile the stranger offered you at your reply or the judgmental glare of Jeonghan which told you that your voice had betrayed you once again. You were doomed either way.

“I just realised we see each other so often but I don’t even know your name,” the stranger spoke and he seemed almost shy with the way he fiddled with the string of his black hoodie. 

Before you could open your mouth to either tell him to leave or tell him a random name you came up with on the spot, Jeonghan jumped into the conversation a bit too enthusiastically, “I’m Jeonghan! This is my best friend, (Y/n). Please take good care of her for me. I have to go help my friend get his cat out of the oven.”

And just like that you had lost another friend. You’d be sure to tell Seungcheol about this to make his disappearance official. Traitors were not welcome in your group.

“Your name’s pretty,” the stranger told you softly, still fiddling and looking down at his sneakers. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he actually had a crush on you. “Pretty like you are.” He cleared his throat and looked at you once again, forcing a wide smile. “I’m Kim Mingyu.”

It took every ounce of muscle control and brain power you had left not to let your jaw drop. 

“What?!” Seungcheol screeched before glaring at Jeonghan like he’d just been caught in the act of murdering a beloved family pet. “You little– You set her up with a frat boy!”

Jeonghan saw no problem with it. “I’m pretty sure you almost became a frat boy, Cheol.”

“That’s different!” 

“And Joshua was literally in a frat until this year!”

Joshua did not appreciate his name being brought into this conversation. He rolled his eyes before offering you a look that told you that he blamed you for all of this. “You do realise I left the frat for a reason, right?”

“Yes, we know,” Jeonghan waved his protests away off-handedly, “you got caught making out with the president’s girl. Nothing to brag about.”

You could barely hold your laugh as Joshua’s jaw dropped, scandalised and exasperated. “Where did that rumour even come from?! Seriously! That is not what happened!”

“Eh, close enough.” Jeonghan shrugged. “Anyways, how was I supposed to know that guy was the Kim Mingyu? It’s not like he wears a name tag! None of you could recognize him either.”

A moment of realisation dawned on you. You let out a soft cry. “Dude, he sat with Jeon Wonwoo. Who else could he have been?”

“Wonwoo’s pretty okay though,” Joshua pointed out. “Not sure about Mingyu.”

“Didn’t Mingyu date like 30 girls just last semester? They say he’s sort of crazy about women or something. Falls in love too quickly.” Seungcheol sighed before glaring at Jeonghan. “You couldn’t have picked literally anyone else?”

“Who?” Jeonghan scoffed. “Joshua? You?”

“The fact that those are the only other options you saw is really concerning,” you mumbled while hiding your face in your hands.

Of course your luck had gotten you entangled in a situation with the university’s biggest womaniser. You were Screwed with a capital S.

“Just avoid him,” Seungcheol had drilled into your head that evening. “Avoid him and don’t look him in the eyes. Just walk in the opposite direction if you see him. Do not let him speak to you or you’ll fall into his trap.”

You leaned against the wall in front of the locked lecture hall door, lost in your thoughts. The laptop in your hands offered a nice grounding weight to remind you to not float too far away, but it didn’t seem to be enough.

Perhaps you should’ve found it amusing that your best friends were treating this guy as some sort of a mythical creature – a siren of some sort that could charm people into a relationship with a smile and two words. But you were more annoyed than anything.

How could this guy appear everywhere you went all the while offering you wide smiles! He seemed less harmful than a golden retriever puppy when he smiled and it annoyed you to no end. Perhaps you were more of a cat person… 

“Hi!” 

You almost jumped in your spot. Your lungs filled with air and your heart rate picked up immensely; it felt like you were coming back to life with the scare. With a wary tightening of your grip you made sure you hadn’t dropped your laptop. 

Who in the hell–

“Damn it,” you cursed under your breath when you caught his eyes. By now you could recognize the chocolate-like shade of them anywhere. Remembering Seungcheol’s words, you quickly looked away and spoke no more.

Mingyu continued smiling at you – he always did – and spoke, “Did you sleep well last night? Have you had breakfast?”

A part of you felt bad for ignoring his caring questions. But feeling bad about this was better than getting scolded by Seungcheol… Mingyu could survive a one-sided conversation.

“Here,” he spoke again, his voice soon followed by plastic crinkling.

You felt the wrapper of a candy bar press against the back of your hand. It was impossible to ignore and so you opened your hand. A Snickers bar. 

Looking up at him was your next mistake. You swear your heart malfunctioned when his smile widened a little. The twinkle in his eyes showed how proud he was of himself before his words could. “I bought it for you. I saw your friend give you three of those, like, weeks ago, so I figured…” He shrugged and looked away shyly. “I figured you might like it.”

Speaking was your second mistake that day. “I do. Thank you.”

The wide smile he offered in return would be engraved into your memory for weeks to come. “So you do speak!” 

You realised your error then and there. Awkwardly clearing your throat, you looked up and down the hallway. “You thought I couldn’t?”

“Well, no,” Mingyu hummed. “It’s just that you’ve never spoken to me since that day at the library and I was getting worried.” He smiled again. “I like your voice. It suits you well.”

You nodded in acknowledgment, fingers grasping the candy bar and your laptop a bit tighter as you willed this interaction to end. Except a part of you – a stupid, dumb, hopelessly romantic part – didn’t want it to end yet. And so, you spoke again, “I didn’t realise you took this class too.”

“I had an annoying free slot in my timetable this semester, so I decided to sign up,” he told you easily, already moving to lean against the wall as well, positioning himself right next to you and just close enough for comfort. “It’s quite fun.”

“The professor’s great. Though the assignments–”

“Annoying, right?” he interjected with an annoyed groan and you couldn’t help but agree. “I mean, weekly reading diaries? 40 pages to read each week? Why?”

“The formatting is so dumb too,” you added. “It always takes me at least thirty minutes just to make sure it’s the correct format and reference style.”

Mingyu nodded enthusiastically. “I almost regret taking this class because of the stupid assignment formatting alone.” 

You weren’t prepared for how your heart skipped a small beat at his next words. 

“But seeing you here makes it a lot better.”

You decided to not tell your friends about the interaction. It was better this way. You could keep a secret from them. Easy-peasy. 

It had already been an entire day and they had no idea. You could easily do this forever.

“You’re hiding something from us,” Seungcheol concluded just thirty seconds after you sat down across from him at the library. You gulped. “I don’t like this.”

Abandoning his magazine, Joshua raised an eyebrow, eyeing Seungcheol weirdly between curious glances at you. “How do you know?”

“I know my friends very well,” the oldest replied – his voice a pitch lower than usual to prove a point – and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, “and I know my friends would never ever lie to me or hide something from me.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, an arm wrapping around your anxiously shaky shoulders. “Does she look like a liar to you, Cheol? She’s not the lying type. Oh.” He offered you a worried look. “Are you cold? You’re shaking. Do want me to–”

“I knew it!” Seungcheol slammed his hands onto the table loudly enough to gain the attention of the entire student body at the library at that moment. You could not have felt more ashamed, but he seemed unbothered. 

He practically hissed at you. “What aren’t you telling us? What’s so bad that you can’t tell us about it?”

“Wait, you’re actually hiding something?” Joshua caught on, gasping. “Seriously?” He leaned forward immediately, chest pressed against wood as he practically lied on top of the desk, barely inches from your face. “What is it?”

“You can tell us, you know,” Jeonghan softly told you. It was in these rare moments that you remembered why Jeonghan was your best friend among these three. “We’re not gonna be mad.”

But oh how wrong he was.

“I–” You took a deep breath under their curious gazes. “I might have spoken to Mingyu yesterday.”

“Might have?” Joshua sighed softly and fell back into his chair in defeat. “Great. So in (Y/n) language that means you had a heart-to-heart in front of the anthropology lecture room.”

You were a little concerned that he could read you that well.

“It’s not that bad,” Jeonghan defended you, almost offended on your behalf. “Why would she–” His eyes narrowed at the candy wrapper still peeking out from your pocket. He sighed right after and almost broke his chair with how heavily he leaned back into it. “Did he give you food? You spoke to him in exchange for food?”

Seungcheol caught your eye and looked like he wanted to slam his head against the wall. “(Y/n), what did we talk about last time?”

“You told me to avoid him,” you whispered shamefully.

“Right. I did. Because men are wolves and Kim Mingyu is the worst of them all.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, eyes crinkling shut. “You’re gonna get your heart broken so bad, my dear.”

“He honestly doesn’t seem so bad though,” you pointed out after a pause of silence. “He’s pretty nice.”

“That is–” Joshua sighed deeply before letting out a sound akin to a sob. “That is exactly the problem. He’s too nice. He’s nice to all the girls and they all fall for him and he falls for them and then the perfect daydream is crushed and they break up and he moves onto the next girl that catches his eye. You’re going to get your heart broken like this.”

Seungcheol had now leaned his face onto the desk, forehead pressed against his textbook. “I’d honestly rather you dated Wonwoo. That guy at least doesn’t have commitment issues.”

“Who has commitment issues?” a familiar husky voice spoke from the side. 

The four of you collectively jumped and stared at the source of the sound. Kim Mingyu, standing at the end of your four-seat desk with an awkward smile and a small pink bento box in hand. 

“You– What are you doing here?” Jeonghan sputtered, hand reaching for yours protectively under the desk – a subconscious attempt to ground and comfort you.

Mingyu held up the container in his hand before sliding it over to you. He gave you an affectionate pat on the head before telling you, “I made you lunch. Figured you might need it with all the studying you have planned for today. I’m cheering for you! You’ll nail this assignment!”

Without another word – but not without one last shy yet charming sweet smile on his way out after he almost tripped over the carpet – he left you be. The food container remained in front of you. 

Joshua stared at the box for a moment, mouth agape. “He brought you food?”

“How did he even know you’d be here?” Seungcheol wondered while scratching his head in thought. “Does he really stalk you?”

“No, but… I might have let it slip yesterday that I would be studying all day with you guys,” you mumbled and reached for the bento box somewhat sheepishly. 

You barely managed to reach to open it before Seungcheol slid it away from you and opened it himself. The smell of warm homemade food filled the room. 

Seungcheol glared at you when you tried to move to get your food back. He slid it further from your reach and picked up the chopsticks placed into the box. “I’m eating it. You don’t deserve to eat after what you’ve done.”

“He literally brought this for me though?” you grumbled but relented and leaned back into your seat. 

You watched enviously as Seungcheol fed a bite to Joshua and the latter moaned in delight. “Oh my god, this is amazing. Wow. Is this homemade?”

“It sure looks like it,” Seungcheol sighed and offered you another glare before sliding the box closer to you again. “You’re so lucky I love you.” 

You cheered quietly – you wouldn’t go hungry this time.

It seemed that Mingyu’s boldness dialled up by one notch every week. 

Gone were the days when you’d go to class on Mondays, fearing (read: hoping) he’d meet your eyes and smile at you as he walked to the back of the class. 

You came to the realisation as both you and Jeonghan stared at him on this Monday morning. 

Softly gasping for air but still carrying an air of nonchalant pride that seemed to follow him everywhere, Kim Mingyu slumped into the otherwise free seat on your other side. He let out a groan and leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

“God, I hate the stairs,” he eventually sighed before straightening up again and offering you a small smile. “Hi.”

You looked at him, glanced back at where Wonwoo was seated – nose deep in his Macbook, a little too deep in the day’s readings –, and back at him. Jeonghan did the same. You shared a look. Then, you turned to Mingyu and asked, “Are you okay?”

Both he and Jeonghan seemed baffled by your question. But whereas Jeonghan’s confusion could be described as “that is not what we discussed, girl??”, Mingyu's seemed to be more joyous.

His smile brightened just a bit. “Yeah,” he breathed out, “I’m just scared of elevators.”

Not what you had asked for, but you decided you’d take it.

“You climbed up the stairs?” Jeonghan wondered, eyes widening by the second. “Five floors?”

“The elevator is terrifying, okay?” Mingyu whined and rested his head on your shoulder. 

You barely noticed the gesture, instinctually leaning your head to rest on his. It was only Jeonghan’s disbelieving glare that seemed to snap you out of whatever Mingyu-induced daze you were in.

You startled back upright, surprising Mingyu who straightened up as well, head whipping around to find whatever had scared you so. When he found nothing even remotely threatening, he blinked in surprise. “What was that?”

Under Jeonghan’s amused stare, you cleared your throat and feigned nonchalance. “What was what?”

“That– You– I– You–” Mingyu stuttered almost frantically, unable to find the words. You decided he was rather cute after all. 

No, dumbass. You had made a promise to Seungcheol – no boyfriends, especially ones named Kim Mingyu. You shook your head to remind yourself of that when you almost drowned into the browns of his confused eyes. 

“I think the lack of oxygen is getting to you,” Jeonghan decided to save you this time. He leaned his head on his hand propped up on the desk. When you and your “boyfriend” looked at him weird, he shrugged. “He climbed up five floors. His poor brain’s probably on the verge of dying.”

While you thought it was ridiculous, the half-assed explanation seemed to fit Mingyu’s logic just fine.

“Well, there does tend to be less oxygen up high,” Mingyu agreed, eyes narrowing in thought and head nodding along. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

It didn’t make sense but you weren’t in any mood to explain the modern wonder of air conditioning and ventilation to this poor guy yet. Maybe on your fifth date. 

Wait–

Before you could gather your thoughts, the professor cleared her throat and began the lecture. All eyes were on her – for the first two minutes anyway. 

But you were still perplexed. Had you just really considered – even in a roundabout way – actually dating Kim Mingyu? You glanced to your left; he sat right there, pretty brown eyes fully focused on the lecturer, his fingers tapping away at the keyboard… The warm lights of the lecture hall seemed to make him glow. 

Ethereal. Breathtaking. His jawline must’ve been sculpted by the gods themselves.

No wonder all the girls fell for him.

As you were about to shake that thought from your head, you felt Jeonghan lean closer to you. Your heart stopped as you felt his breath on your ear. He whispered, “Don’t let Seungcheol find out about your crush.”

Gritting your teeth, you considered your options: 

a) You could pretend you didn’t hear him – he’d never let you live it down though.

b) You could just shrug it off and act like he was dumb for even suggesting you’d have a crush on a heartbreaker like Kim Mingyu – but he knew you better than that and you’d be caught in a lie.

c) “He won’t find out if you don’t tell him,” you whispered back, glaring at him over your back. 

Jeonghan’s lips curved into an amused smirk, his brow quirking up. “Yeah? And how do you know I won’t tell him your little secret?”

“Because if you do, I’ll tell him it was you who’s been sneaking expensive drinks on our pub bills.”He paled immediately – option c: success.

As you walked to class on Thursday, you decided to stop acting like you disliked Mingyu. 

Coming to terms with your crush had taken a few mental breakdowns and a few too many crying-emoji-filled messages to Jeonghan over the last two days. It was a small price to pay.

For the first time since that fateful day at the library, you approached him first. You headed straight towards the lecture room, beelined straight for him – leaned against the wall, reading something off his phone –, and offered him a friendly smile. “Hi.”

He looked up immediately – with such force that you worried his neck would snap – and mirrored your smile. You had to hold back from swooning; god, he really did look like a golden retriever puppy. 

“Hi,” he replied and locked his phone, hiding it in his back pocket and reaching for your hand on instinct. Unfortunately, you hadn’t come to terms with your crush that much yet, and so you hid your hands behind your back. He seemed to take the hint just fine.

His smile never disappeared as he watched you, seeming to almost adore you just for standing in front of him. “Something feels different today,” he finally mentioned. “I like it.”

“Yeah?” You laughed.

“Yeah,” he nodded decisively, and you felt proud for doing something to brighten his day, only for your heart to skip a beat at his next words, “you should smile more often.”

“I– What?”

His grin widened. “You almost never smile at me. But you’re smiling today. I like that.”

If you hadn’t decided to just accept your new-found crush earlier, you sure would have now. 

His ears burned red – as you felt yours must have been – and he cleared his throat while bashfully looking at the ground. He bounced in his spot for a moment before asking, “Did you eat yet?”

“Had a granola bar on the way here,” you confessed shamefully after a moment of thought. “In my defence, I almost missed my bus.”

“Same here,” he laughed, glancing up again. He hesitated only for a moment before suggesting, “Do you want to come to the cafe with me after the class?” When you didn’t immediately answer – too busy trying to figure out if this was real or you had developed a very bad case of hallucinations – he softly added, "I could get you cheesecake for free.”

And just like that you were ready to marry this man. Seungcheol, Joshua and Jeonghan could eat dirt – they were probably just jealous that you were getting someone’s attention and they were sad unlovable loners. Yeah, that was definitely it. No other reason why they’d try to prevent you from falling in love with this wonderful guy who was promising you free cheesecake.

“I’d love that,” you replied with a bright smile. 

Exactly two hours later, you found yourself in a booth at the café you had previously sworn to boycott, sitting across from the very reason you had declared your boycott to begin with. Life is strange, you concluded, but found yourself unable to look away from him.

“Cheesecake for the lady,” Mingyu smiled proudly as he presented the plate to you. Seeing your thankful and excited smile, he winked, “I made sure to get you the biggest slice they had.”

You could’ve kissed him on the mouth for that comment alone.

“So,” he began as the two of you settled further into your seats, getting more comfortable, “what’s your major?”

You didn’t hesitate to answer his question before shooting back, “And you?”

“Graphic design,” he told you with a shrug. “It was either that or business.”

“Nice,” you nodded along though you were unable to find any further words. You silently cursed yourself for being so damn awkward with strangers. Did Mingyu even count as a stranger? Was he your friend? An acquaintance? Your boyfriend?

He seemed to sense your internal turmoil, reaching a hand over the table to hold yours. “Are you always this awkward with people?”

“Only at the beginning,” you confessed and felt his fingers tighten around yours in a comforting manner. “I promise I’m not usually this boring.”

“I mean,” he chuckled, “you seemed rather bold at the library that day. I thought that confidence carried over into other situations.”

“Only occasionally.”

But he didn’t seem to mind. “That’s okay. I like a challenge anyway.”

It was your turn to laugh. “Yeah? Then how come you’re not a challenge yourself?”

“What do you mean?” His ears burned a shameful red again. 

“Any normal guy would’ve acted like nothing happened,” you told him. “But you started getting me snacks and making small talk in front of the lecture hall.”

The red of his ears got darker by the second. But he cleared his throat and shrugged almost bashfully. “Can you blame me? It’s not every day a pretty girl tells me to be her boyfriend.”

Your breath hitched. “You think I’m pretty?”

“The prettiest,” he confessed with a shy smile and your heart was completely spoken for.

You had one single duty to your friends: to always tell the truth. As much as it pained you, you had to tell them about Mingyu. 

Because, for one, Seungcheol wouldn’t stop asking about him. 

And, for two, because you had learnt there was no use lying to them because they each seemed to have a built-in lie detector. 

But coming to terms with your inability to lie to your three friends came with horrible consequences.

And by consequences, you meant Seungcheol and Joshua grilling you about your relationship with Mingyu as if you had committed a crime most vile, complete with Jeonghan viewing the interrogation from the sofa with a bowl of popcorn.

“It wasn’t a date,” you tried to defend yourself. “We just went to the café after the lecture.”

“Yeah, the café,” Joshua emphasised as you stared at him dumbly, “the place where couples go on first dates.”

“It wasn’t a date,” you repeated yourself with a sigh. “It was just coffee and a slice of cake.”

Seungcheol paced around on the rug, already wearing holes into his dark socks. He ran a hand through his hair before pointing at Jeonghan. “You; you’re planning a first date with your crush. Where do you take them?”

Your head immediately snapped to glare at Jeonghan, daring him to say as much as a word – you knew exactly where this was going. He responded with a mischievous smile and you turned to scream into a cushion before he could even open his mouth.

Fortunately, Jeonghan was a nice friend and patiently waited for your screaming to stop before answering in a clear voice, “To the campus café to get coffee and a slice of their favourite cake.”

You threw the cushion right at his head. He only laughed.

Seungcheol, as if unaware of Jeonghan’s very clear plot against you, gestured widely before glaring at you. “Do you see my point?”

“It was not a date–”  you began again, perhaps hoping that repeating the sentence enough times would make the guys magically believe you and forget the argument. But your speech was interrupted by the unmistakable ringtone off your phone. 

You checked your pockets but it wasn’t there. Instead, to your horror, you found that Joshua had it right there, in the palm of his hand. He eyed it suspiciously before looking up to smirk at you. “Loverboy doesn’t seem to think so though.”

Your heart sank and soared at the same time. 

Mingyu said it was a date? Fuck. Now you had lost your only argument. 

On the other hand… Mingyu thought it was a date? Aw.

That latter thought seemed to betray you to Seungcheol. His glare hardened. “(Y/n)!”

“Okay, so it was a date!” you burst before sighing and curling into yourself on the armchair. “Is it a crime to date? Is it that bad that I like someone?”

Your question was met with a softening gaze. Whether it was your words or something else about your behaviour, the three seemed to suddenly become guilty and remorseful. 

“No, it’s– You– I–” Seungcheol stuttered to find the words. His posture had suddenly sunk from big and intimidating to tiny and slumped. He exchanged worried glances with your other two friends before letting out a soft whine and stumbling over the carpet to hug you to his chest. “It’s not bad that you like someone. Of course you can date whoever you want.”

“Just not Mingyu?” you scoffed but made no move to leave his embrace. His stubborn personality and overprotective nature be damned, but he gave the best and warmest hugs you had ever experienced. You doubted anyone could give better hugs. 

He sighed. “I– Don’t make me feel bad about this. God, I can’t do this–”

“We just don't want you to get hurt,” Joshua took over, reaching over to pat your head. “Mingyu kind of has a reputation.”

“I don't think he does it on purpose though,” you mumbled.

“I don’t either,” Joshua hummed, “but the fact is that he leaves a trail of broken hearts wherever he goes. He falls fast and hard but he loses interest just as quick. We don’t want you to be one of the broken girls he leaves behind.”

“Bet I can fix him,” you stubbornly joked and chuckled but you weren't fully convinced it was a joke anymore.

Joshua laughed. “I’m sure you can.”

“Can’t you guys just be a little more supportive?” you sighed, finally leaning out of Seungcheol’s embrace. “If he breaks my heart, so be it.”

“You don’t deserve your heart broken by a fratboy with commitment issues,” Joshua told you gently. “That’s the whole thing.”

You heard a scoff from over on the sofa. “She’s not in love with you, Shua.”

Joshua’s and Seungcheol’s heads snapped up immediately, one glaring at Jeonghan and the other at you.

“Me?!” 

“LOVE?! YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH HIM???”

You vowed that if you went to jail this year, it would be for the death of Yoon Jeonghan. You hoped your glare over Seungcheol’s shoulder was enough to convey your intentions.

“Fine, you can go on a second date with Mingyu,” Seungcheol had told you, much like a father lecturing his rebellious teenage daughter, “but only if we come along.”

And so, you went on your second date to the fair with Kim Mingyu, accompanied by one menacing bodyguard and your two mostly normal friends. And what a date it was.

Holding onto him tight as he all but cried into your shoulder, you wondered how this poor coward had even gotten this far in life. 

“It’s okay,” you told him, patting his head as you exited the haunted maze attraction. “See, we’re out already! You’re fine.”

The date had been so nice so far. He had paid for the tickets (all of them, which seemed to get him in Jeonghan’s good graces) and bought you a themed headband to wear. He had won you a bear plushie from a no-doubt rigged stand, only smiling proudly as the attendant glared and handed him the prize. The butterflies in your chest couldn’t have been more fluttery and excited than they had been this entire evening. The perfect date, 10/10, you understood why so many girls fell for the Kim Mingyu.

But then you had discovered your boyfriend’s fatal flaw: despite his imposing size and the visible definition of his muscles, he was an absolute coward. 

Though he had put on a confident act while waiting in the queue, it took him no less than two minutes to start screaming in fear and using you as a shield from the scare actors.

As you tried your hardest to comfort him, wiping the tears of fear from his cheeks and rubbing gentle circles into his back, Jeonghan was cackling behind you like a maniac, finding great joy in your boyfriend’s distress. “Are you scared of clowns, Kim Mingyu? Clowns?” 

“I’m scared of a lot of things, but clowns aren‘t one of them!” Mingyu bravely shouted at him, eyes blood-shot and throat sore from all the screaming and squealing he had done these past fifteen minutes, before his words dawned on him. “I meant–”

With a judgemental nose scrunch, Joshua nudged your side and scoffed out a short laugh before whispering, “You sure know how to pick them, huh?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you growled at him but paid him no more attention as Mingyu grabbed onto your arm with yet another screech of fear.

“Dude,” Seungcheol sighed deeply, defeated and tired of your fair adventure, “that was just a pigeon.”

“Birds are scary,” Mingyu retorted immediately.

“Not pigeons,” Jeonghan told him with an equally exhausted sigh. “They’re about as harmful as you are. No one ever, in the history of this planet got physically attacked by a pigeon.”

“Well, actually–” Joshua began but was promptly cut off by your elbow between his ribs.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” you asked Mingyu, squeezing his hand for comfort. “Maybe we could go eat? Or just walk around?”

He hesitated. “I was actually hoping we could– Nevermind. That’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s fun. What were you thinking?”

“... The ferris wheel?” He side-eyed your friends for the briefest moment before adding in a whisper, “Just the two of us?”

Without a moment to think about it (because god knows you’d be caught by Seungcheol), you tugged on his hand and began running towards the queue for the ferris wheel, glancing behind you to make sure they hadn’t followed you.

“What was that?” Mingyu giggled as you came to a stop. 

“You said you wanted to come, just the two of us,” you told him with a shrug and an award-winning smile. “Keep a low profile and they won’t find us.”

“Why are they here with us anyway?” he wondered before quickly correcting himself, “Not that I think they’re bad or annoying or something– It’s just that–”

You laughed and glanced through the growing crowd at where your trio of friends were looking around nearly frantically, like a pack of guard dogs trying to figure out where the sound had come from. “They’re overprotective and think you’re bad news.”

“Me?” Lips pursing into a small pout, he seemed a little dejected at the thought. “Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you think I’m bad news? That I’m not good for you?”

The sadness in his beautiful brown eyes made you weak inside. You were ready to spill every truth and lie and everything in between just to make him happy again. But before you could, the staff member in charge of the wheel greeted you with a tired smile and asked for your tickets and, before you knew it, you were seated in the gondola.

You had read enough romance novels to know where this would lead.

Or so you thought, until the wheel was three metres off the ground and Mingyu was the palest you had ever seen him, eyes wide with fear as he looked at anything but the windows. 

“You good?” you asked him carefully, reaching your hand across the gondola to squeeze his knee. He didn’t answer. And then it dawned on you – the very same realization from just twenty minutes ago – your boyfriend was the dictionary definition of a coward. “... Don’t tell me you’re afraid of heights.”

Shaking a little from the fear travelling through his veins, he took a sharp breath. “I won’t.”

“But are you?”

“Yes. Deathly.”

You wanted to laugh at the irony. “You were the one that suggested we come on the ferris wheel!”

“I didn’t think it would be this bad if you’re with me!” he practically whined, eyes squeezed shut, his hand searching for yours for comfort. “I just wanted this date to be romantic for you. What good date doesn’t end with a ferris wheel ride?!”

Why was your stupid cowardly boyfriend making your heart flutter again like this? Just a few simple words that he probably hadn’t even thought through and you were melting all over again.

“Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you?” you offered. 

He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. All you’ve done today is comfort me and tell me it’s fine but, really, you must think I’m a coward and an idiot.”

Well, he wasn’t completely wrong. But it’s not like you were ever going to tell him.

“Actually, can you just tell me when we’re going down again?” he added soon after, voice cracking. He paused. “Or, well, actually don’t do that because you must already think I’m pathetic and I don’t want to ruin this for you and–”

You weren’t sure why or how, but you found yourself pressing your lips to his. His rambling cut off with a noise of surprise and before long, he leaned closer to you, still squeezing your hand with his, and nearly melted into the kiss.

When you pulled away, nose still brushing against his, he let out a shaky breath that sounded just a little bit like a laugh. “What was that for?”

“I– You–” you stuttered, unable to believe your own actions. You leaned further away from him, clearing your throat as the gondola came to a stop at the bottom of the wheel, the staff fumbling with the door to let you out. “We’re back on the ground.”

“We are?” he breathed out and finally opened his (admittedly hazy) eyes. “Oh. I guess we are.”

As you stepped out of the gondola and began on your way back towards the front gate, he linked your arms, playing with your fingers. “That wasn’t so bad.”

“You were almost crying,” you told him with a good-hearted laugh and a nudge. “Please do us both a favour and never take your date to a haunted maze or to the ferris wheel ever again.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” he laughed, sheepish.

“There you two are!” Jeonghan’s voice sounded from behind you. You turned to offer him a smile. He replied with a sarcastic one of his own before yelling as loud as he could (which, admittedly, was not very loud at all), “Cheol! Shua! I found the fools in love!”

As your trio of friends slowly gathered, you were still focused on Mingyu. The fairy lights had no right to make him look so beautiful. You were certain you would dream of him tonight. 

“The haunted maze aside,” you started, voice low as to not let your friends hear, “I enjoyed this date.”

He grinned brightly. “Me too. But I suppose everything’s just better with you.”

“Same time next week?” you half-joked. “I’ll do the planning this time though.”

“Only if you promise there won’t be any more haunted mazes,” he mumbled to cover up the fact that you had him wrapped around your fingers, wound so tight he could never think of letting go.

“It’s a date,” you laughed and kissed his cheek just as Seungcheol walked over to drag you away by your arm. “Hey!”

“It’s past your curfew,” he deadpanned while Jeonghan and Joshua snickered behind you. 

You scoffed. “I’m an adult?!”

“You snuck away with your boyfriend!” he accused, looking almost actually offended by your actions. “What adult does that? And with a frat boy of all things?”

“I think they’re cute,” Joshua argued with a kind smile, having always been the most hopeless romantic of the bunch. “He’s like a golden retriever in love.”

“Golden retriever?" Seungcheol scoffed. “He towers over all of us. He’s a great dane if anything.”

As if to prove your friends’ point, the sound of rapid footsteps echoed from the pavement. 

Always the most brave of the three, Jeonghan turned his head to take a look. He let out a disbelieving laugh. “(Y/n), your puppy’s coming with us.”

“My what?” you wondered, brows furrowing as you turned to see whatever it was he had noticed. Your heart fluttered at the sight of Mingyu running up to you with a bashful smile. 

“I–” he gasped out, struggling to breathe. 

Your friends and you were equally breathless, mostly from shock.

He took one more deep breath – all the while glaring at the starry sky as if to curse the gods for giving him such a poor lung capacity – and then turned to smile at you again, “What kind of a date would I be if I didn’t walk you to your front door?”

“One without a death wish,” you swore you heard Seungcheol mumble under his breath. But you weren’t too worried about him (he couldn’t hurt a fly even if he wanted to), especially when you had a whole Kim Mingyu running to you.

“You don’t have to–” you started.

But he shook his head and smiled a little prouder before offering his arm. “Here, I’ll keep you safe.”

“What are we? Just random street rats?” Jeonghan wondered while looking awfully amused. “You think one of you can protect her better than three of us?”

While Mingyu looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole, red ears and all, you came to his defence with a discerning stare directed at your three friends. You shrugged. “I certainly feel safer with him.”

With a pained groan and a hand to his chest as if to will his heart to stop hurting, Jeonghan grabbed Seungcheol by the arm. “C’mon, great dane, he’s clearly got it covered.”

Seungcheol blinked at him, baffled. “You’re not seriously thinking of– Jeonghan! We can’t just leave them!”

You gave your best friend a begging look. As much as you could never admit it to Seungcheol, you longed for more time with Mingyu. And if it was just the two of you? You were giddy at just the prospect of it.

“I’ll pay for your pizza,” Jeonghan offered begrudgingly, sending you one last warning glare before practically dragging Seungcheol away. Joshua – much to your joy – was happier to leave you with your new boyfriend, only giving you one last hug and a wave goodbye before following the others and joining in their banter.

You looked up to find Mingyu staring after them in utter surprise. “They actually left us alone? Willingly?”

“I guess so,” you feigned coyness. “So, you’re walking me home then?”

“Most happily,” he agreed before shrugging off his jacket and – to the detriment of your poor fluttering heart – draped it over your shoulders. “There, now you’ll be warm.”

“You didn’t have to–”

“I wanted to,” he interrupted with a sweet smile before offering you his arm again.

You swallowed the butterflies threatening to break out and linked your arm with his with a shy smile. And so, side by side, you walked to your home. The conversation was almost nonexistent as you simply enjoyed each other’s presence in the silence of the night. 

“Can I ask something?” Mingyu suddenly broke the blissful quiet air.

You hummed in agreement.

He took a deep calming breath before blurting, “Why me?”

“... What?”

“Why me?” he repeated himself a little more certainly. “Why would you choose me as your boyfriend? 

There was another moment of silence. How could one tell someone as loving and sweet as Mingyu that you were dating him only because of a stupid joke? A small bet that was never meant to go further than a sentence of a prank and five minutes of confusion? You feared you’d shatter his heart.

But still you had to come clean eventually. 

It was funny really, you thought, that a week or two ago, you wouldn’t have hesitated to answer at all. You would’ve laughed it off and told him it was just a silly joke and to not take it so seriously. You would’ve texted the group chat telling Jeonghan he owed you another Snickers bar for the humiliation of having to explain yourself to a fratboy.

And today your heart hurt at the idea of breaking his.

Mirroring his earlier preparations, you took a deep breath to ease your nerves and calm your heart before answering, “It was Jeonghan who picked you.”

“For you to date?” Mingyu wondered, brows furrowing in confusion. “That’s a little odd, I suppose, but–”

“No, it was– It was a bet. At first.” You didn’t dare to look at him as you spoke. (And if you had, you would’ve seen his facade of confidence crack just a little.) “We were just at the library and Jeonghan bet me a coke and a Snickers bar to tell you… what I told you that day. I wasn’t– You– We weren’t ever supposed to meet again. Well, maybe as a passing glance in the hallway or something, but not like this. It wasn’t meant to be serious.”

“Oh.” You didn’t need to look at him to know how dejected he must have felt.

“But!” you rushed to mend his heart, “But then I got to know you and you made me lunch and you smiled at me all pretty and you spoke to me even when I was being weird and mean– Look,” you stopped mid-step and grabbed his wrist to stop him as well, forcing him to face you before you spoke with as much conviction as you could muster up, “this whole thing might have started because Jeonghan offered me candy, but I swear on everything that I hold dear that… that I really like you. I’ve come to really like you so much, Mingyu. 

“I can’t imagine a day without you anymore. When you miss our lectures, I spend all day worrying something happened to you. When you don’t smile, I want to go and kick whoever made you sad or mad. I just really love you a lot – even if it wasn’t so at first. Okay?”

“Okay,” he whispered, nodding slowly, his eyes glimmering a little. “I mean… I always guessed you didn’t say those things because you actually felt something for me and–” He paused, eyes clearing, brows furrowing, ears tinting red. “Did you just say you love me?”

“I– You– What? No,” you laughed and felt nervous all of a sudden. 

You couldn’t have!? 

… Could you?

His dejected puppy-eyes became cheerful half-moons as he grinned widely. “You did! You love me!”

You weren’t sure you had enough proof to argue, so you kept quiet and prayed he wouldn’t see right through you. You hadn’t meant to let those words slip so early. You hadn’t meant to even feel this way. But you couldn’t lie and argue.

“Hey, if it makes you feel better,” Mingyu leaned closer to speak softly, “I’ve been thinking about how I love you too.” He let out a sheepish laugh. “Really, I was worried I’d be too forward and scare you away if I told you that already. I mean, it’s only our – what? – second date?”

“You really do fall hard and fast, huh?” you wondered out loud. 

He scoffed. “Who told you that?”

“My friends.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll have you know that you’re the first I’ve felt this way about.

“Yeah?” You pursed your lips in thought. “If that’s true, then you should kiss me right now.”

Mingyu chuckled and shook his head. “I fear that might be a little too forward.”

“Really?” You quirked a brow. “And a  love confession on the second date isn’t?”

“You’re the one who started it! Besides,” he linked your arms and led you to keep walking towards your home, “I’m a little scared of your friends and I’m pretty sure the one with big muscles will kick my ass if I don’t take you on at least two more dates before I kiss you.”

You weren’t entirely sure he was joking.

“Fine,” you sighed, defeated in the game of love. “But those two dates better be great. I’m speaking five-star restaurant, dinner and a concert by the seaside, watching The Titanic in the moonlight kind of romantic.”

“I’ve got it, don’t worry, baby,” he assured you and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek.

Baby. You had to physically hold back from smiling and blushing all giddy. 

[gold-onthe-inside]

greylist

verb (transitive): to hold (someone) in suspicion, without actually excluding him or her from a particular activity

who? spencer reid (s6, post-JJ, pre-Doyle) x tech analyst!reader summary: when your celebratory drink with penelope is disrupted, you end up at a bar with the person you famously cannot get along with even if you were paid... until you do. based on: request by @brownbunnyb: I’m thinking something along lines of me being Penelope’s best friend and coworker and she sees how much me and Spencer bump heads and she sets me up on a blind date and the guy end up being Spencer (she does it on purpose) and we get a little too tipsy and he invites me over to his place and I stay the night and he confess his feelings bc he assumed I was sleeping word count: 3.4k a/n: r is an intelligence analyst for the counterintelligence division, and roommates with penelope, famous for not having any of the pleasance and charm that penelope does (the grumpy to her sunshine) and for not getting along with men, including spencer. i may have gotten carried away with it.

You don't get many off days in counterintelligence, but when you find a chain of coded messages about a military officer in Alaska trying to sell classified documents to the Russians, and manipulate him right into the hands of an undercover operative, you have to celebrate somehow. There aren't many easy wins in your line of work, not like Penelope who comes to your shared apartment with an arrest on her belt almost every week, and when you hear the front door close, Penelope walking in with her heels in hand, you have no doubt that she's on a high from a solved case.

"Hey, so I figured we'd leave in 15," you said, stepping out from the bathroom in a sleek black dress with a cut out by your hips, your walk stuttering at the sight of Kevin in the doorway behind Penelope, who was wincing. "And you forgot," you said, unsurprised, your hands falling from your ear where you had just fixed a gold hoop.

"I'm so sorry," Penelope cried, rushing towards you. "I swear, I swear I had it written somewhere that we were going out, but this reservation opened up at L'Auberge, and you know we've been on the waitlist for months--"

You held up your hand, stopping her. "Go," you said, with patience that seemed to be bottomless when it came to Penelope.

"I swear, I will make it up to you right now," Penelope said and you frowned instantly as she pulled out her phone.

"You don't have to--"

"Ba-bup, nothing out of you," Penelope interrupted, picking up the phone. "You're going to a bar. I don't wanna hear any excuses, you still owe me for Friday. You will be there by 7." She looked to you. "7?"

You shrugged helplessly, glancing at Kevin who just seemed amused by his girlfriend.

"Where are you going?" Penelope repeated the question, then looked at you.

"Crown and Crow," you said, knowing better than to get in Penelope's way, watching her as she repeated it to the phone, then snapped it shut, looking at you with a giddy smile.

"Okay, have fun, don't be mean, and have a cute cocktail on me," Penelope said, kissing your cheek, leaving a smear of lip gloss. "You deserve the win," she said, then promptly disappeared off to the bathroom to change for her own date.

You looked at Kevin. "Home by midnight, no more than three drinks, capiche?" you said, firmly and he held up his hands in surrender to you.

"I couldn't afford it," he said and you nodded, satisfied. You slipped into your classic black pumps, grabbed your purse, keys, and a black coat before stepping out, the door closing before you remember to ask Penelope who your date for the night was.

You're on your first drink when he arrived, almost spitting it out at the sight of Spencer as he searched the bar for Penelope. If you rush into the bathroom, maybe you don't have to deal with him tonight… but then he spots you, and frowns as he raised a hand before walking over. "No Penelope?"

"Date with Kevin," you replied, not hiding your sourness. Don't be mean, my ass. This is her making it up to me?

"Oh," he said, looking confused. "So… why am I here?"

"Evidently, Pen's playing matchmaker tonight," you said, keeping your voice even and he sighed.

"Should've figured," he said quietly, then gestured to the empty seat beside her. "May I?"

"Since you're here," you replied, sipping your rum and coke.

"I take it I'm not who you expected," he said as he flagged the bartender for a soda.

"Given the history of our interactions, no, you're not." You watched his arm fall to the oak bar, his hazel eyes on you, sparkling darkly in the low amber light.

"Disappointed?" he asked and you took a breath in.

"It's not all you," you said, tipping the glass as you take a sip. "Supposed to be celebrating an op, but Penelope bailed."

"Criswell's case?" he asked and you sighed, his question stinging like the back of your throat.

"Criswell's case," you scoffed. "I do all the work and he's the one they credit? I swear to God, you Special Agents--"

"It's hardly my fault that Criswell's name gets put on the report. He was the arresting officer--"

"Only because I led the guy right to him," you argued, looking at Spencer and then you just sighed. "You don't get it. You're not an intelligence analyst."

"No, I do," he insisted. "I know you think we all come home with wins every week, but it's not me, or the BAU, or even the FBI that gets the credit. It's the local police department who can't pull their heads out of the asses, sorry, long enough to realise that all they need is to empathise to catch their killers."

You looked at him, with a mix of surprise and respect, and a little amusement at his apology after saying 'asses', and he ran out of steam at your look. "T-The point is, I get it," he continued. "You probably don't sleep for days, and if you do, it's not enough. You're probably going to suffer from debilitating eye strain in your 70s, and all for some half-wit tactical analyst to get the credit. You're right to be pissed, but getting mad at me isn't gonna get you anywhere."

You wet your stained lips, downing the rest of your glass, and stare at it for a moment. "I've been kind of unfair to you, haven't I?" you asked, looking at him.

Spencer looked at his clear glass, bubbles of soda rising to the surface. "Kind of feels diminutive," he said and you laugh, a brightness in your eyes that wasn't there a minute ago.

"Be grateful I admitted anything at all," you said and he nodded graciously.

"Of course. Thank you for the bare minimum," he said and you huff.

"Look at that, the robot knows sarcasm," you teased and he made an offended noise before watching you snicker. "So, just the soda or are you gonna drink something stronger?"

"Just the soda," he said and you know better than to ask as you order yourself a mojito. "So, how did you do it?" Spencer asked. "How'd you track him down?"

You shrugged, not particularly in a bragging mood. "It wasn't that hard, really. I already had an alert set up for requests for encryption keys, and there was no reason for this military officer in Alaska to request them. He didn't have the clearance or approval from someone who did to have eyes on it. All I did was figure out what he wanted access to and fudge it and put a code in so I could track the user before giving him the encryption key. Then it was just a matter of posing as a buyer for the intel."

"Child's play," Spencer remarked dryly, his lips curling and you shrugged.

"If you can learn sarcasm, I can learn humility," you said, sipping your mojito and it was his turn to laugh quietly.

"It's a new look on you," he said, meeting your gaze, and you're not sure if it's the rum, but there's a moment of tension, and you're half-convinced he's leaning in to kiss you when your phone beeped and it shatters like you've dropped your glass. You fumbled through your purse for your cell, pulling it out to find a text message from Penelope.

Penny: Kevin's staying the night.

How was this night getting worse by the minute?

You: Can't you go to his place?

No reply. It turned out your bottomless patience wasn't so limitless, and Spencer could tell.

"Problem?" he asked, raising his soda to finish it.

"It appears I'm homeless for the night," you replied, downing your entire mojito in one go.

"Hey, hey, slow down," he insisted, pulling the glass away from you, but it was just mint and ice now. "What do you mean?"

You grasped Spencer's shoulder. "See, Data, when two people go out on a date, which is a kind of human mating ritual, one of them offers their habitat to copulate in, never mind the other females who maybe sharing said habitat," you said, mocking and he swatted your hand away, knowing you well enough to know you were just projecting your irritation on to him.

"You could just say that Garcia was taking Kevin home, you don't have to be so--"

"Mean?" you asked hollowly and Spencer pursed his lips.

"Hostile," he replied and you nodded.

"It's fine, I'll just flirt with someone and let them take me to their place," you said, slipping off your seat.

"Hey, no," Spencer said firmly, his hands loosely grasping your arms. "A) you're drunk--"

"I had two drinks--"

"And B) Penelope would kill me if I let you become one of our cases. You can stay with me."

"What? No," you protested. "I'm mean and unfair to you, why would you--"

"Because no matter how much disdain you hold for me, I'm not actually a bad guy," he said patiently. "Can you honestly tell me you trust anyone else in this bar to not take advantage of you?"

You sucked your cheek in and sighed. "No," you said petulantly, and Spencer stood up, holding your coat up for you to help you into it.

He doesn't drive and you share Esther with Penelope who needed it tonight, so you're on the Metro back to his place, Spencer's hand on your waist keeping you standing until there's a place to sit. You realise, rather dully, that if you weren't wearing your coat, his hand would have found the cut-out of your waist, and you wonder what it feels like. "I'm never drinking rum again," you murmured. Clearly, it was poisoning your mind.

"Sure, you won't," he said dryly, standing in front of you and you have to look up at him to see his eyes.

"You're really tall," you said, distastefully. You don't like having to crane your neck just to look at him… not that you like looking at him. It's easier to be mean, you decide, when you can look him in the eye.

"I'm sorry, the doctor said there's no cure for it," he replied, clearly mocking.

"I could always lop your knees off," you said helpfully, smiling up at him and he snorted.

"I think they've been through enough." He watched the frown form on your forehead, and, stupid impulse, he moved his hand to smooth it out. "I was shot in the knee a couple years ago," he explained. "Reconstructive surgery."

"Must make kneeling hard," you said without thinking and he tilted his head at you, his hand returning to your waist.

"Was that a joke?" he asked and you shook your head.

"No, I'm just--" The train jolted and Spencer grabbed your hips before you could fall, your hands on his arms. "Embarrassing," you finished as he righted you, then guided your hands to the pole. He was warm, smelling like Irish espresso. It must be nice, being his girlfriend, smelling that all the time. What is wrong with me?

The rest of the ride is silent, and then he's guiding you out of the carriage and onto the station closest to his apartment. He tapped both your metro cards, which you don't remember giving to him, before walking out of the subway with his hand on the small of your back, and you're out of quips and clever things to say. You didn't think that was possible, but maybe the train jolted it out of you. Or maybe the rum did. But you're silent all the way to his apartment, and a little curious about how he lives.

He lets you in, letting go of your waist, and you don't see how his hand clenches, too busy taking the apartment in. The wall's a lovely green and he has lamps that remind you of old libraries with the green steel shade, and he has bookshelves everywhere, nothing with a contemporary cover on it. They're all old hardbounds that you're compelled to touch reverently, foreign titles that you're able to decipher. "Of course you have War and Peace in the original Russian," you scoffed, tracing the golden Russian letters while he set your purse down on his coffee table.

"You can read it?" he asked, surprised and you look at him with narrowed eyes.

"How do you think I posed as a Russian buyer of international secrets?" you asked and he held his hands up in surrender.

"My bad," he admitted, trying not to look impressed. But it was the truth, you were impressive. It was impressive enough how skilled you were at coding and creating algorithms, able to take over for Penelope without complaint from anyone but Derek who would get shut down every time he tried to call you baby girl. In a lot of ways, you were like Penelope, always ready with a pop-culture reference and a barb, preferring steel over sexual innuendo. In the early days, he had been sensitive to it, avoiding you when he could, but he'd seen your softer side when Penelope had been shot, how you'd been unafraid to yell at Rossi for pushing the boundaries of interrogation with her. He knew you were kind, really, you just weren't very generous with it.

He filled up a glass of water, walking over to you, doing his best to keep his gaze off your waist as he passed it to you, noticing you perusing the Art of War… in the original Chinese. "Don't tell me… Chinese too?"

"Kind of a prerequisite for counterintelligence," you said, swapping the book for the water, and an uncomfortable expression flashed across your face, shifting in your heels. He was an idiot, he should have noticed it. You were standing for so long in the train. You frowned as he knelt silently, hand grasping your ankle and you lifted your heel so he could take it off. One, then the other. "Thanks," you said quietly, unused to his kindness.

"It's not that hard," he said, standing up, putting your heels by your purse.

"What is?" you asked and he looked back at you.

"Kneeling," he said simply and it's stupid but your heart stops for a second, caught off-guard. "I'm gonna get you something more comfortable to wear. Finish that."

Oh, this was not good. You were not going to catch feelings for a man you've told everyone you know, which is mostly Penelope, and by association Kevin, that you hate. Your phone beeps and you pick it up.

Penny: Talked to Emily, you can stay at hers.

Escape. Emily can pick you up, you get along with Emily just fine, Emily's not a tall brunet with hazel eyes and makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. Emily's safe. You could be safe… or you could be with Spencer.

You: Don't bother, I'm already at Spencer's. You owe me so big.

You simply hope it sounds more casual and unbothered than you feel.

"So, I couldn't find anything that fit-" he started and you flinched as he walked back into the room, holding sweats and a t-shirt, almost dropping your glass, and he looked at you with wide eyes. "Sorry, carpeted floors," he said, assuming that was why you were so startled, and walked over, swapping your empty glass with the clothes. "They'll have to do, I'm afraid."

You nodded. "Bathroom?"

"Inside, on your left," he said, frowning as you rushed away.

You have to roll up the legs of the pants so you can actually walk in them, too afraid to ask for shorts for the fear that he might just hand you a pair of boxers, and then you really would crack, just like that.

You stepped out eventually, finding him setting up the couch with blankets and pillows, and he looked at you, his expression unreadable in the low light. "I know, they're baggy and I look awful."

"No," he said quickly, sitting on the couch. "You don't. Look awful, that is. Even if they are baggy."

"Right," you said, if only to move on to something else. "Um… do you have any cotton balls or something? I have all this make-up--"

"Sure, yeah," he said, moving and almost tripping over the coffee table in his rush to service you.

"--wouldn't want to ruin your pillows," you said to deaf ears, following him with a frown as he retrieves a cosmetic bag from his dresser. "Why do you have that?"

"Uh…" He looked at you with a wincing expression. "Halloween," he said, hoping it would suffice, and it did. You've seen him come into work at the end of every October with props and gimmicks. Emily ended up pawning off a Baba Yaga head to you that still hangs in your cubicle. You've named her Meredith.

"Right," you replied and he handed it to you.

"What, no clever retort?" he asked and you shook your head.

"No, I think the cosmetic bag speaks for itself," you said, showing him the pumpkin shaped cartoons on it, and he sighed.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he said dryly and you snickered as you headed to the bathroom.

"Does Morgan know about your clown make-up?" you asked and he lingered in the doorway.

"Please don't," he begged, watching you dab removal cream on the pad and wipe your make-up away. You're teasing and mean, hostile and snappish, but you're not cruel. You've kept secrets for him before, like the magazine cover of him and Lila from 2005 that Emily almost finds if not for you distracting her with a linguistic question, your hand stealthily picking it out of his drawer, and then tossing it to him when she turned her back.

"Depends, do you have clown shoes somewhere in your closet?" you asked, smiling as you ridicule him.

"No, the shoes I rented, the nose I own, the hair I spraypainted," he said and you look at him.

"Seriously?" you asked with a giddy grin. "Please tell me there are pictures."

"What? No!" he retorted, in that high pitch where you know he's lying, "Even if there were, why would I show you?"

"Because you know I can find them anyway," you retorted.

"Not if they're not digital," he snapped back, thinking he's pulled a fast one until he sees your devious grin. "No. Absolutely not."

"You've made a horrible mistake letting me into your home," you said, grinning giddily.

"You're a terrible person," he said, blocking your way bodily. "Sadistic, twisted, horrible--"

"I'm gonna find it," you said, stepping towards him.

"Not if I lock you in here all night," he said, but it was weak, he knew it was. He'd cave the minute he heard your pleading voice, or pretending to vomit. You tilt your head at him.

"Show me the pictures, Spencer," you said and his shoulders sag.

"Alright, come on," he said, resigned, leading you to the bedroom and pulling at a locked drawer in his desk before picking up the album. You plopped onto the bed, curling your feet up underneath you, Spencer sliding into bed beside you with the album on his thighs. "Please don't be mean," he asked, looking at you with a pleading look.

"If I don't have something nice to say, I won't speak," you promised, and he opens it up, knowing it's the best you can offer. You instantly clap a hand over your mouth at the sight of ten year old Spencer dressed like a Russian gymnast. So, he was that extra as a kid too.

"You… dressed like that all night, and you survived?" you asked, looking at him and he shrugged.

"I didn't actually do much trick-or-treating. But my mom would help me make my costume and I'd watch scary movies when she was asleep."

There's a Ghostbuster's costume, a vampire costume, a Frankenstein costume, all creative and handmade, and you watch Spencer age through the photographs, until he's 14 and you're half-asleep on his shoulder.

A fondness warms his chest as he tucked hair behind your ear. He's never seen you unmade like this. You weren't as flamboyant as Penelope (you once said Bowie wasn't as flamboyant as Penelope), usually in greys, browns and blacks, with plain jewellery and simple make-up, and tonight had only gone up in tone by your eyeshadow, grey and silver, with black eyeliner.

But now? You looked vulnerable and pretty, unarmed, and he carefully laid you against the pillow. Maybe he thinks he'll get over it if he says it, or 'manifest' it like Penelope says, and it's not exactly a heavy thing he says, but he whispered it as he stroked your hair back in place.

"I wish you liked me as much as I like you."

[ariadnes-elixirs]

thinking about an isekaied reader and a yandere noble boy...

(gn reader x male noble yandere)

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

tw: yandere and manipulative behavior

about a week has passed since you collapsed. after reading the letters, your parents insisted that you should reply with a short note stating that you had recovered. eventually you caved, concerned about the contents of the letters this... guy sent you, but not enough that you felt particularly threatened.

less than a week later, an oliver northwood appeared unannounced near the gated entrance of your family's estate.

everyone was caught off guard, but he was let in regardless. your parents were the count and countess of the land you resided in, but he was the son of a marquis. this placed him at a higher rank then your family. plus, the both of you had been friends since childhood, so your parents caved even with the sudden intrusion.

after he entered, you find yourself sitting in awkward silence having an impromptu tea party with him in the estate's garden.

"so uh, it feels like its been so long since we've seen each other" he said.

"yes... it has" you replied

"are you feeling better?"

"yes i am..."

following this short interaction was about three minutes of silence. he had seemed so... energetic in his letters, but in person he appears much more reserved.

"um... you seem different"

you felt your chest start pounding. your thoughts start rushing while you try to keep your face neutral. it hasnt even been 10 minutes and hes already figured out who you actually were? is he going to expose me? no, that would make him look crazy...

as you started spiraling he spoke up again, "it almost feels like you are a different person" he pauses before continuing, "your parents said that you were having some trouble with your memory... do you... not... remember me?"

this snapped you out of your thoughts, he had figured out that you were, in fact, a different person, while giving you a potential way out.

"oh im so sorry... my memory has been spotty, i didnt want to be rude. honestly i couldnt even remember who i was when i woke up, hehe~" you mentally screamed at yourself because he did NOT NEED TO KNOW THAT!!!

your thoughts were interrupted by his response, "oh im... sorry, that sounds awful." you saw fragments of a sly smile and a darkness in his eyes for a split second. the shift in expression disappeared so quickly you thought that you had imagined it.

he continues, "do you want me to try to fill in the gaps?"

"please do..." you reply.

"hmm.. ill start from the beginning." his eyes shift to make direct eye contact you. while he appears with soft eyes and a small smile, something about his expression feels a little unsettling. "well for starters, we have been friends since we were little. my parents are the marquis and marquess of the land just west of here. they had known each other for a while and had children around the same time, so they introduced us!"

his smiled widened as he continued speaking, "although we were only friends as children, as we got older we ended up becoming lovers!!"

the look of shock on your face didn't seem to surprise him. you begun trying to string words together into a coherent sentence when he follows up his previous statement.

"although... no one knows right now, we were keeping it secret to... avoid drawing unnecessary attention." the last part was spoken quickly and softly, making him sound unsure.

he takes your hand, "please love, i know you may not remember, but i have no problem waiting for you to fall in love with me."

"or... fall in love with me again i mean, hehe~"

should there be a part three?

feel free to drop in my inbox to ask any questions about him!!

[kookooluvr]

Teach Me How To Love - Part 3

pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers

genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.

summary: jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

word count: 6.7k

warnings: we get to know the besties a bit, jihyo and tae being our cutesie side characters <3 oc and jk both spill the beans to their friends,mentions of the infamous ex (booo, throwing tomatoes), oc buys and wears lingerie for jk, she sends him a photo in said lingerie, explicit sexual content; making out, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex, missionary, squirting, soft dom jk, multiple orgasms, jk learns something new about oc, jk's in his feelings, my poor baby, jk's also a teeny tiny bit of a stalker...but in a sweet way if that makes any sense :)

author's note: part 3 took longer than i would've liked bc my procrastination was kicking my ass. anyway, pls enjoy !!! things will start being a bit more eventful from part 4 onwards so bear with me 🤪🫶🏼 as usual, make sure to like, reblog and pleeeaaase share all your thoughts and feelings about these kiddos <3

taglist: @rpwprpwprpwprw @mimi1097 @livinluvl @bumblebee-21s-blog @koosluvss @sou-17 @puppybunnyjkay @svnbangtansworld @junecat18 @shrek-the-destroyer @tastykookoonut @sturniolowrld @palomanazareth

find tmhtl masterlist here

It's been a week since Jungkook came over. You spoke here and there in passing but you haven't had a chance to actually hang out again after that night because you're both just too busy prepping for final exams before the long awaited summer break. This time of year is always a bit crazy for both the students and the educators, which leaves you with almost no time to mess around with cute economics professors.

You've been a bit stressed out all week, so you really weren't planning on spending your Saturday in a busy mall, looking through racks of lingerie, and yet that's exactly what you're doing. Why? Because Jihyo texted you saying she needed your help in buying something sexy to wear on an upcoming date she has with some guy she met at work. His name's Mark and from what she's told you about him, he sounds...promising.

Jihyo, unlike you, is looking for a boyfriend. Boy, is she looking. She's gone on about seven dates with five different men in the past couple of months and she is yet to find her Mr. Right. From what she's told you, she's looking for someone educated, tall, handsome, funny, and someone who can "match her freak". The closest she got to that was some guy she met at a club two months ago, who was lucky enough to get three whole dates before he eventually gave her the ick by referring to his mother as 'mommy'. For her own sanity, you hope Mark won't make that same mistake.

However, Jihyo's mind isn't on Mark right now. Oh no, she's much more focused on the man you're seeing.

"___, come on. We've been best friends since the fifth grade. Are you really going to look me in my eye and tell me you're not seeing anyone? And don't lie to me."

You roll your eyes, scanning the rack of pink satin and red lace, feeling the different fabrics between your fingers. One minute, you were asking her about Mark and how they met, and the next thing you know, you're being interrogated in the middle of a lingerie store.

"I'm not looking you in your eye. I'm looking at lingerie. Ooh, this is pretty."

Jihyo loves you, really, she does. You've known each other for most of your lives. That means she supports you in everything you do. That also means she can see right through your bullshit when no one else can. She's been suspicious of you and your apparent mystery man for a while now, and she won't stop asking you about him until she gets answers.

"I'm serious. I know you're seeing someone. You're not slick, babe. I know you inside and out, and I have really good intuition...and I might have seen a text I shouldn't have when your phone was on the table at the restaurant during lunch."

Dammit.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You feign ignorance, refusing to spill the beans even after practically getting caught. You and Jungkook both swore to keep it between the two of you. It's one of the rules. Who knows what will happen if you just start breaking rules all willy-nilly. Sure, it's not that big of a deal if you tell one friend, especially your best friend, but that's how it starts. You're breaking this rule, and then another and another until you're Robin Thicke and the lines are blurred.

"Cut the shit," Jihyo says dryly, crossing her arms over her chest, clearly unwilling to drop the subject. "Who is this mysterious 'prof jeon' and why was he asking you when you're free to see him?"

You let out a defeated sigh, looking over at her. You know that look on her face. She's just going to keep asking if you don't tell her and it's pointless lying about it. She can be a pain in your ass at times but she's definitely not stupid. And besides, she's your best friend. You'd be a bad best friend for not telling her that you're basically getting the best sex of your life, right?

Screw it.

"Okay, I'm not even supposed to tell anyone about it and it's really not a big deal but...I'm kinda sleeping with one of the other professors at work." You quickly press your lips together as soon as the words leave your mouth, looking back at the lingerie to avoid her eyes and all the questions you know you're about to be bombarded with in a second.

"What?!"

"Can you keep your voice down?" you whisper-yell, noticing a few people turning their heads to see what the sudden outburst was about.

"Sorry," she mutters with a snort, clearly not expecting that news. "Who is this professor? What's his name? Jeon who? Why didn't I know about this sooner? Since when have you-"

You cut her off before she can get the rest of her questions out.

"His name is Jungkook, he teaches economics, and before you ask, no, he's not my boyfriend or anything like that. I'm still not ready for that. We met a few months after I transferred to work at the university and we were just work-friends for the most part, but then we hooked up one night last year and it wasn't really supposed to happen again because we were a bit drunk but it was so good, and then it happened two more times and then...well, then we just agreed to keep having casual sex. That's it."

Jihyo is quiet for a moment, processing the information that was just thrown at her. How have you been sleeping with this man for a year and she had no idea? She's actually quite impressed that you could keep it a secret for that long.

"Wow."

"That's it? That's all you're gonna say?" you chuckle, turning around to look at her with a light blue lacey set in your hands.

"I just...I'm happy for you. I'm glad you're putting yourself out there again after Sunghoon. I really thought you were going to swear off men for the rest of your life after him."

And there it is. The reminder of the man you spent most of your teenage and early adulthood loving, the man who you thought you would grow old with, the bane of your existence. If it's not your friends or your mother reminding you of him, it's your own brain. You don't blame her for bringing him up, though. He is the main reason why you're so opposed to actually committing yourself to someone again.

"Yeah, well...it's not like Jungkook and I are dating or anything. It's just sex. No big deal," you mutter, not wanting to go down that road right now.

Jihyo knows your love life (or lack thereof) is a bit of a sensitive subject for you. She was there for you when Sunghoon broke your heart. She let you stay over at her apartment when you were too sad to be alone. She sat with you as you cried on her bathroom floor, so this is a big deal to her. This means that you don't spend your nights crying over that human shit stain anymore, and she doesn't blame you for keeping it private. All she really wants is for you to be happy.

"Still. It's progress, babe."

"Yeah, I guess it is."

"So, uhh... how is he?" She grins, gesturing to her genital area, wanting all the long, girthy, veiny details. She can't help but be a little nosey. Besides, what's the point of having a best friend of almost two decades if you can't ask her about the juicy details of her sex life.

"I'm not telling you that, you pervert," you laugh, holding the lacey lingerie out for her to take. She takes it without even looking at it, her focus solely on you and your professor friend.

"You have to tell me. Okay fine, just give me a number from one to ten then... Looks?"

You sigh but decide to indulge her anyway. "Ten."

"You lucky bitch," she scoffs, looking very impressed. "Skills in the bedroom?"

"Nine point five."

"And you're exclusively hooking up, right?"

You nod.

"Okay, ___, please explain to me why we're in a lingerie store and you're not buying something to make this man drool over you," Jihyo deadpans, looking at you like you're insane.

"Don't be ridiculous, we're not here for me. We're here for you and your date."

"And we're not leaving until we both get something." She starts looking through the racks with more determination. "You said Professor Sexyboots is a ten. You have to wear something sexy for him. At least for my sake."

"Professor Sexyboots? I'm sure he'd love that," you scoff, rolling your eyes at her ridiculous nickname for him.

Jihyo is about to respond when she looks up at something and freezes, her eyes widening, causing you to turn your head to follow her line of sight, your eyebrows raising. On one of the mannequins sits a stunning deep-red bra and matching thong, looking like something straight off a Victoria's Secret runway. It's gorgeous, with intricate lace detailing, and it's completely out of your comfort zone.

"No way, I can't."

"What are you talking about?! You'd look so hot. C'mon, it would be so fun. You could send him a little sneak peek and invite him over and he can take it off with his teeth," she snickers, having way too much fun with this whole thing.

You're not sure how exactly you let Jihyo convince you to buy the skimpy lingerie, but you did, which is why you're sitting in a rather suggestive pose in front of your floor-length mirror in your bedroom. It's silly to feel nervous about sending him a naughty photo. He's seen you naked more times in this past year than you can count, and yet this makes you nervous.

You take the photo and press send before quickly tossing your phone on the bed, letting out a deep sigh.

Jungkook is in the middle of watching some random show on Natural Geographic when he gets your text. He unlocks his phone and all the air gets knocked out of his lungs when his eyes land on the photo of you wrapped in the delicate dark red lace, muttering a breathless, "Sweet baby Jesus".

His fingers shake as he types out a reply, his heart hammering in his chest.

prof jeon [9:46pm]: i've never really been a very religious man prof jeon [9:46pm]: but damn, god is good 😳

You [9:47pm]: LMAO You [9:47pm]: come over

prof jeon [9:48pm]: aye-aye captain 🫡

He rushes to his room to get a hoodie, quickly putting it on while getting a confused look from a half-asleep Bam. He walks over to give the sleepy dog a quick kiss on his forehead and some scratches before getting his car keys, his body working faster than his brain. “Bam, daddy’s gotta go take care of aunty ___, okay? I’ll be back later.” And with that, he’s out the door.

He makes his way downstairs to the parking lot and gets in his car, fumbling with the car keys in a rush to get to your apartment. He knows he probably looks like a teenage virgin right now, but he doesn't care. You always manage to make his midsection tingle and his brain feel all scattered. When he finally manages to get the car started, it takes everything in him to stay within the speed limit as he drives over to you.

You're about to text him to ask how far he is from your apartment, when there's a knock at the front door. You wrap a robe around your body and go to answer the door, seeing a breathless Jungkook leaning his arm up against the wall in the hallway.

"Good evening, Professor," he grins, straightening up to walk inside, eyeing you from head to toe as you close the door behind him. Before you can get a chance to respond, his lips are on yours, his hands cradling your jaw as he kisses you, completely taking you by surprise.

You pull away to look up at him with wide eyes, letting out a little chuckle. "So just straight to the point? No small talk, nothing?"

"Is that what you want?" he asks, looking down at your robe-clad body. "Small talk? Want me to ask you how your day was before I spread your legs?"

"Not really, no."

"Yeah, I didn't think so," he mutters before his lips are back on yours. He picks you up by the back of your thighs in one swift motion, your arms wrapped around his neck as he carries you to your bedroom, eager to get that damn robe off.

He gets to the bedroom and gently lays you down on your back before hurriedly removing his glasses, pulling his hoodie over his head, his t-shirt following quickly behind. He leans down to hover over you, his lips kissing from your neck up to your lips, sensually licking into your mouth to taste more of you while his fingers trail up your thigh under the robe.

He pulls back to look down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his fingers slowly opening your robe. "Can I take this off?"

You nod and your robe is off within seconds, leaving you in nothing but the skimpy lingerie. His throat goes completely dry. "Fuck. You're trying to give me an asthma attack."

"You don't have asthma," you laugh, rolling your eyes.

"The point is that you're fucking hot, ___."

You scoff and pull him back down to crash your lips onto his, his tongue slipping into your mouth with ease. Your hands lightly travel up his biceps and shoulders, the sensation sending shivers down his spine. You slide your fingers through his hair and give it a little tug, pulling a soft moan from his lips. He loves when you play with his hair, and he especially loves when you tug on it, whether it's while he's kissing you or eating you out.

You pull away slightly to press a few light pecks to his lips, his stomach erupting with butterflies. "You're so good at that," he mutters, gently tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.

"At what, kissing?"

"Mm," he hums with a lazy little grin on his face. "Might need you to demonstrate again, just to make sure."

You laugh, placing another kiss to his lips, lingering there for a bit before pulling away.

"Mm, one more," he whispers before his mouth is back on yours, his tongue tangling with yours as the kiss grows more heated.

He reluctantly breaks away from your mouth, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses on your skin.

He nips at your pulse point, his teeth leaving a little red spot on your flesh.

"Jungkook, I'm going to kill you if there's a mark," you mutter, but the huff of laughter he lets out tells you he doesn't care.

"You'll be fine," he chuckles, his voice hoarse with desire, his tongue tracing the mark he left behind. He leans on one hand while the other slowly trails up the side of your ribs, making its way to the back of your bra.

"This is so pretty," he whispers, giving your earlobe a little tug with his teeth. "Can I take it off yet?"

"Mhm," you nod, slightly arching your back off the bed to let him unclasp the bra. He slowly slides the fabric off your body and tosses it aside, kissing his way down to your breasts. He licks and sucks on each of your nipples before trailing slow, soft kisses down your stomach.

"Lift your hips for me, baby." You do as he says, his fingers hooking into the sides of the tiny lace thong, slowly pulling the fabric down your legs.

You spread your legs for him, showing him your glistening folds. The sight alone makes his sweatpants feel tighter. He kneels down at the edge of the bed, spreading your legs further apart. He kisses his way up your leg from your calf to your inner thigh, holding your ankle over his broad shoulder.

His lips inch even closer to your pussy, just a few centimeters from where you need him most. "Jungkook," you whine, your arousal growing by the second.

He chuckles teasingly, stopping at your inner thigh. "You're so whiny."

"Don't tease, Kook."

He grins, hovering his mouth over your pussy, his breath fanning over your folds. "Love seeing you all worked up for me," he murmurs, slowly licking his lips before pressing a feather-like kiss to your mound.

"Just shut up and eat me out."

"Yes, ma'am."

He starts slow with wet little kisses and licks to your clit, slowly building up a steady pace. He loves eating you out. He could go for hours if you let him, like a starved man getting a taste of his favourite food. Jungkook's always been more of a giver than a taker, your pleasure bringing him pleasure.

He's incredibly skilled with his tongue, knowing exactly what to do to have your legs trembling. He swirls and flicks his tongue, sucking and lapping at your clit to make your eyes roll back in your head.

"Fuck, Jungkook...feels so good," you sigh, your eyes fluttering shut.

He smiles against your pussy, feeling proud of every little sigh and moan he pulls from your lips. "You taste so good," he mutters before diving back in, licking a long stripe from your leaking entrance to your clit, his hands gripping your thighs to keep them open.

"Just like that...oh my god, don't stop..."

He looks up at you with a dazed look in his eyes, his tongue lapping at you with skilled precision that makes your toes curl, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you.

"F-fuck, 'm gonna cum," you gasp, grabbing onto his hair to hold him in place, your eyes squeezing shut, your head spinning as the pleasure reaches a peak.

A few more sucks and flicks of his tongue and you're cumming, his hands holding you in place as he laps at your pussy, helping you ride out your high. He feels your thighs quivering, looking quite proud of himself. "You taste so fucking good," he murmurs, pressing a few soft kisses to your clit.

"Holy shit." You're breathless, your pussy pulsating, your heart racing.

He crawls up to hover over you, giving your lips a quick peck, his lips and chin glistening. "Still with me?"

"Mhmm," you grin, slowly opening your eyes to look up at him.

He smiles down at you, taking in your flushed cheeks, your disheveled hair, your pretty eyes. He gently brushes some of your hair out of your face, his thumb lightly stroking your cheek. "You're beautiful, ___," he whispers, his voice laced with tenderness.

"Don't say that."

He furrows his brows in confusion, puzzled by your reaction. "Why not? It's the truth."

"Tell me I'm sexy...not beautiful."

He chuckles, slowly shaking his head, his expression filled with amusement and affection. "You're gorgeous," he whispers, lightly kissing your cheek, his lips trailing over to your ear. "And incredibly sexy."

"You gonna fuck me now?" You tease, your lips curling into a soft smile.

He almost laughs at your bluntness, the way you just get straight to the point, never wasting any time if you want something. Your assertiveness has always been a turn-on for him, not just in the bedroom, but in general.

"That's the plan, yeah."

"Let's get this show on the road then."

He gets up off you and removes his sweatpants and boxers, letting it lay somewhere on your bedroom floor. He's already hard, his cock standing tall, the tip already leaking a bit. He stands at the end of your bed, his hand wrapped around the base, his eyes glued between your legs, slowly trailing up to your face.

He crawls back on top of you, sliding his fingers through your folds, gathering some of your slick and rubbing it over the head of his cock. "Ready, baby?"

You give him a nod and he slowly pushes into you, his hips gently moving forward. "Shit, you feel good," he groans, his voice coming out low and hoarse.

You sharply inhale through your nose, feeling that familiar stretch, your walls molding to the shape of him like it was made for him.

He thrusts slowly, bracing his forearms on either side of your head, his forehead resting against yours. His thrusts get deeper until he bottoms out, his breathing growing heavier, his moans going straight to your core. He buries his face in your neck, feeling your hands gripping the muscles in his back as he thrusts harder.

Your moans grow louder as he thrusts into you, your walls fluttering around him, your legs wrapping around his waist. "Fuck, that feels so good."

"Yeah? You like that, baby?" he grins, pressing wet kisses to your neck and chest.

You've never had a man make you feel the way Jungkook does. He knows exactly how to touch you, how to kiss you, how to have you like putty in his hands. Your skin heats up, your heart pounding faster as he picks up the pace, hitting that spot deep inside you that makes your back arch off the bed.

"Mmm, f-fuck...harder...h-harder, baby," you moan, feeling him lift one of your legs over his shoulder, the tip of his cock repeatedly hitting that sweet spot inside you, the new angle allowing him to thrust even deeper.

"Like that?" He grunts, sitting back on his knees, his thrusts hitting harder, his pace getting faster.

"Oh my god, right there...feels s-so good, Kook."

"Wanna cum again?"

You can barely form a coherent sentence anymore. Your moans mixed with the sound of his skin slapping against yours fills your bedroom, his thrusts making your pussy squelch.

"Use your words, baby."

"Wanna...wanna cum," you whine, feeling him hold your leg next to his head and press wet kisses to your ankle and calf, the pressure and pace of his thrusts feeling just right.

"Hold it." His voice is rough and demanding, a stark contrast to the gentle tone he usually uses with you outside of the bedroom, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

He ignores your whines and pleas for him to let you cum, thrusting as deep as he can go, his free hand reaching down to push his thumb into your mouth. Your body works on autopilot, sucking on his thumb. You swirl your tongue around it like you would do to his cock, causing his hips to stutter before he regains his composure.

"Such a good girl for me. Gonna make you cum so hard, baby."

He pulls his thumb out of your mouth to rub firm circles over your clit, the pressure paired with his thrusts making your head spin. The pressure starts to build in your lower stomach, and it feels different, better than it usually does, your pussy clenching down harder around his cock.

"Feels...f-feels like I'm gonna...p-pee..."

He lets out a faint chuckle, his hips moving with determination. "You're not gonna pee, baby," he mutters, his tone sounding almost teasing.

"H-how do you know?"

"Trust me, baby, I know. You're not gonna pee." He can tell you're close, your body practically begging for release as he rubs your clit faster. He looks down to where your bodies connect, seeing how swollen and puffy your pussy looks, the sight making his cock twitch. "It's gonna feel so good, baby, I promise."

"Gonna...gonna cum-"

"I know, baby. Let go for me...let it all out."

You cum with a loud cry, your body convulsing beneath him, your vision going blank as the pleasure hits you. It feels relentless, like nothing you've ever felt before, and he's made you cum many times before.

"Fuck, that's my girl." His thrusts slow down but they don't stop, keeping his pace steady to help you through it. "That's it, baby...ride it out..."

Your body trembles as you come down from your high, barely able to register him pulling out. Your eyes are half open as you watch him stroke himself above you, his face contorting in pleasure, his abdomen tensing. He finishes with a guttural moan of your name, painting your stomach and breasts with warm strings of cum.

"Fuck. I think I just saw Jesus," he breathes out, his chest heaving as he gasps for air.

"Yeah? What did he tell you?" You chuckle breathlessly, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm.

"He said you squirted."

Your eyes almost bulge out of your head, looking down to find his lower stomach and pelvis drenched.

"Oh my god," you groan, your words muffled by your hands as you cover your face.

"Hey, don't be embarrassed. It was probably the sexiest thing I've ever seen," he murmurs with a faint chuckle, gently pulling your hands away from your face, forcing you to look at him, his face looking rather smug.

"You look very pleased with yourself."

"Can you blame me? I made you feel so good, you practically exploded all over me," he grins, looking down at the mess between your legs. "Ohh, she's so swollen now. She took a bit of a beating, huh?"

You let out bashful scoff, your cheeks heating up at his choice of words.

He quickly gets up to go and clean himself off in the bathroom, coming back to slip his boxers back on. He watches you slowly get up off the messy bed, your knees feeling weak as you clumsily walk off to the bathroom, needing a hot shower after that intense session. He sits on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands as he watches you stumble.

"Legs a little wobbly there?" he teases, unable to stop the amused smile from spreading across his face.

"Shut up," you mutter as you make your way to the bathroom, earning a little laugh from him.

While you're in the shower, he takes it upon himself to remove the dirty covers and sheets from your bed, looking for your lavender room-spray on your vanity. He knows you always spray it around the room after sex, and he knows you keep it on your vanity, but for some reason he can't find it there. What he does find, however, is a framed photo he's never seen before. You're in it, and it looks like it was taken on the day of your undergrad graduation ceremony. You're standing next to a younger-looking girl, whose face is quite similar to yours. She is just slightly taller with shorter hair. Jungkook doesn't know much, or rather anything, about your family, but he assumes the girl in the photo is your sister.

He picks up the frame and goes to sit down on the bed, inspecting it closely. He feels a bit guilty, like he's been caught red-handed for snooping when you come out the bathroom wrapped in your robe, your eyes landing on the frame in his hands.

"What're you doing?"

"Sorry," he murmurs, his eyes growing wide, feeling like a child that's been caught stealing. "I just...I was looking for your room spray...or mist, whatever it is, and... I, uhm, I don't know, I guess this just caught my eye. I've been here many times but I've never really looked around, y'know?"

You nod slowly, going to sit next to him at the edge of the bed.

"Is this...your sister?"

You look up at him, seeing the surprise on his face.

You and Jungkook have sex. You work at the same university. You're "work-friends" and that surprise on his face is a reminder of how little he truly knows about you, how little of yourself you actually share with him. He knows you have a cat, but he doesn't know you have a sister. He knows the way you take your coffee, but he doesn't know anything about your childhood. It's a stark contrast to how much you know about him. You know his favourite foods because he's very specific about where he gets his takeout from. You know his favourite brand of beer because he always has it stocked up in his fridge. You know all about his family dynamics because he speaks about them all the time, that his brother just had a baby, that her name is Mijoo. You know all of his hobbies and interests because you're quite observant and he's very open, never feeling the need to keep anything to himself. You're similar in some aspects of your personalities, and yet very different.

"Yeah, that's my sister, Yuna," you murmur softly, looking down at the photo with a tight-lipped smile.

He absorbs this new information, a mix of feelings swirling inside him. Part of him feels slightly hurt. Four years of knowing each other and a year of hooking up, and he's only just found out you have a sister. He's an open book, always sharing all these intimate details about himself with you, yet you keep so many parts of yourself hidden from him. He wonders if it's just in your nature or if you deliberately keep him at arm's length, preventing him from getting too close.

At the same time, a small spark of hope lights up within him. You're not completely shutting him down so that's good. Maybe this is a sign that you're actually opening up to him for once. It might seem minor, but he takes it as a huge step forward with you.

He has a million questions he wants to ask, but settles for, "What's she like?"

There's a beat of silence before you speak. "She's, uhm...she's three years younger than me, and she's probably the most extroverted person you'll ever meet, so we're...very different," you scoff, smiling fondly at the thought of your baby sister.

He listens intently as you talk about your sister. He wants nothing more than for you to let your guard down with him, and this is a start. It's small, but it's something.

"That must make for an interesting sibling dynamic, hm?"

"We actually get along great in spite of that. We grew up super close, so..." You speak softly, feeling a bit uncomfortable with showing even just a hint of vulnerability in front of him. "So, yeah. Now you know that about me."

"Yeah," he murmurs softly, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "Now I know."

You gently take the frame from his hands and walk over to your vanity, putting it back in its place. You pick up the lavender room spray and turn to him with a faint smile. "This what you were looking for?"

"There's the damn thing," he scoffs, the familiar scent filling his nose as you give the room a spritz. "Is that to get rid of the smell of me?"

You chuckle, but you don't deny it.

The room falls silent again, and he takes it as his cue to get out of your hair, seeing as it's already midnight and he doesn't want to push his luck.

"I should, uh...I should go. It's late and I don't wanna keep you out of your beauty sleep," he jokes, slowly getting up to put his clothes back on.

"I'll walk you out." He wishes, just once, that you would ask him to stay, but he knows you won't. He walks behind you, stopping at the front door. He so badly wants to reach out and take your face in his hands, to kiss your lips and ask you to let him spend the night with you, but when you open the door for him, he simply puts his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants and walks out into the hallway.

"Thanks for tonight," he mumbles, looking down at you with a soft look in his eyes. "It was fun."

"Yeah, it was," you smile, tilting your head to lean against the half-open door.

He just looks at you, not making a move to leave. He has so much he wants to say right now, but he swallows it down, just like he always does, not wanting to overstep.

"Well...goodnight."

"Night, Jungkook."

He takes a small step back, reluctantly turning to leave. "Goodnight, ___," he mumbles, looking back at you with a soft smile.

You chuckle, sensing his reluctance to leave. "Goodnight, Jungkook."

He turns and starts walking away, his feet feeling heavier with each step. Just as he's about to make a U-turn and walk back to you, he hears the soft click of your door shutting, the lock echoing in the empty hallway.

He sighs and walks over to the elevators, going down to his car. He mentally kicks himself for feeling so disappointed. He's always known that you keep yourself guarded, and he thought he could handle it, could play by your rules, could be content with a primarily physical relationship. He could before. But right now, sitting in his car in the silent parking lot, he's reminded of how weak he really is.

He leans his forehead forward against the steering wheel, the weight of his feelings sitting heavy in his chest, muttering a soft, "Fuck."

With a heavy sigh, he starts the car and drives home, his brain taunting him with the fact that romance isn't a possibility for you and him.

On Monday, Jungkook is back in work mode. He tries to squeeze in as many revision lectures as he can the closer it gets to final exams. It's around 3pm when he finally gets a breather, so he goes to his usual spot for lunch.

He sits in the empty lounge, like he does almost every day. Why this specific lounge? Because if he looks out the window, he has a perfect view of you sitting below, eating your lunch on your usual bench. Sometimes you're alone, sometimes you're with another lecturer, and on rare days you just have lunch in your office.

"There you are." He hears Taehyung's voice as he walks into the lounge, sitting down across from him with a huff. "You weren't answering your phone."

Jungkook doesn't respond, his eyes not wavering. He looks out the window with a dopey look on his face, watching you eat your gimbap. Taehyung follows his line of sight, catching on rather quickly.

"So... you taking an online course on how to be a stalker, or...?"

"What are you talking about?" He scoffs, looking over at Taehyung before his eyes inevitably drift back down to you.

"You're staring like a creep," Taehyung laughs, taking a bite of his sandwich. "Is she that professor I saw you talking to the other day?"

"Mm." Jungkook knows how nosey his best friend can be, and he knows exactly what's going on in that head of his.

Taehyung gives him a knowing smile. He doesn't even have to say much, already knowing it's only a matter of time before Jungkook spills.

"You have a thing for her, huh?"

Jungkook looks at him with wide eyes, feeling exposed without even confessing anything. "What? I didn't even say anythi-"

"Don't bother," Taehyung chuckles, "You're not very subtle, man. Your eyes give you away."

Jungkook feels his cheeks burn, knowing he's been caught. He hates how transparent he is, that his feelings are written all over his face. "Fine. But it's not a big deal."

Taehyung gives him a look that says, 'You sure about that?'

Jungkook looks at his friend, then down at his lap, twiddling his thumbs. There's a long silence before the word-vomit eventually spills out of him.

"We've been having sex for a year and it was just casual at first, well...it still is casual, and we set a few rules so that there's still boundaries between us, but then I started developing feelings and she's just so guarded, like, she won't open up to me and I know that if she finds out I have feelings for her, she'll pull away and it'll ruin everything," he rambles, the words tumbling out like he's been dying to tell someone. He knows it was supposed to stay between the two of you, but he trusts Taehyung implicitly and he knows his friend would never judge him or the situation.

Taehyung looks at him with raised eyebrows, listening to him ramble on about the whole situation, trying to wrap his head around it. He knows how much of a softie Jungkook is and he never thought he would ever hear him say he has a friend with benefits.

"Damn, dude...you look like you needed to get that off your chest."

"I guess I did, yeah," Jungkook murmurs with a little scoff.

"Okay, so, she explicitly told you she's not interested in you romantically?"

"Well, no, she didn't say it directly, but she doesn't have to," Jungkook sighs. "She's made it clear more than once that she's not looking for anything serious from me."

"Damn," Taehyung murmurs, his face full of sympathy. "Has she said why?"

Jungkook looks back out the window, looking down at you with a melancholy expression on his face. "I know it's something to do with her ex, but she won't tell me the full story, so I don't really know what happened. I know she's been hurt before and she's wary of it happening again. I know she's not ready for anything serious, and I respect that. It's just..."

"You thought it would be enough for you?" Taehyung asks softly, carefully.

"Yeah."

"But it's not?"

"Would it make me an awful, selfish person if I said it's not?"

"No," Taehyung says firmly, a soft smile forming on his face. "It would make you a human being with a soft heart and strong feelings."

Jungkook scoffs, feeling guilty for simply thinking of being with you in a romantic sense. He knows you've been through some hard things in the past, and all he wants is a chance to prove himself to you.

"Do you want to tell her how you feel about her?"

"I don't know," Jungkook mutters, a slight pout forming on his lips. "I keep going back and forth about it in my head. Part of me wants to tell her and lay all my cards out on the table for her...another part of me is scared of pushing her away even further."

Taehyung goes silent for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip in thought. "Is the sex good?"

Jungkook narrows his eyes at his friend. "You have the worst timing."

Taehyung chuckles, shrugging like he just couldn't help but ask.

Jungkook rolls his eyes but gives in, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, it's...it's really good. Probably the best sex I've ever had, if I'm being real."

"Wow," Taehyung scoffs, his eyes wide. "I'd say you should wife her but...y'know..."

Jungkook gives him a dirty look, once again getting a slap from reality, Taehyung subtly wincing at his friend's misfortune.

"Look, I want to say screw her and it's her loss because you're a fuckin’ catch...but I mean, I get that she's just being cautious because of whatever happened with her ex."

Jungkook sighs, nodding slowly.

"Yeah. I just wish I could prove to her that I would never hurt her, that I would respect her and treat her right." Jungkook mentally curses your ex for screwing things up for him. He just wants a fair shot with you. "She's such a beautiful woman and she doesn't even see it."

Taehyung nods, looking out at you through the window. "Yeah, she's very attractive."

"No, I mean, she's stunning, but...the way she speaks, the way she acts, the person she is...she's just so beautiful. I want her for so much more than her physical being," Jungkook murmurs softly, his heart yearning to show you just how lovely he thinks you are.

"Honestly, I think the best thing you can do for her is be her friend if that's all she needs for the time being and slowly try to bring down her walls little by little. And if that doesn't work, then I think you should keep your options open. I know this sucks, dude, but you have to think of yourself too. You can't try to mend her while breaking yourself."

Taehyung is a wise man, and Jungkook trusts his judgement. He teaches literature, for crying out loud. He reads Shakespeare for a living. He should be well versed in these things.

"Yeah," Jungkook nods, taking in Taehyung's advice. "I guess you're right, Tae. Thanks for listening to all my crap."

"Hey, you're my best friend. No sweat." He goes quiet before casually asking, "So, do you think she has a friend for m-"

"Tae-"

"Wrong time, my bad."

< Part 2 || Part 4 >

[fastandcarlos]

Summer Break : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: with three weeks off to enjoy yourselves, you and max make the most of it adventuring together

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liked by ynusername, danielricciardo and 2,582,608 others

maxverstappen1: great way to end the first half of the season, looking forward to a nice break before pushing for the title 🏎️

138,163 comments

username1: congrats on such a great start to the season max

ynusername: can't wait to finally get you all to myself 🥰

danielricciardo: @/ynusername did max fail to tell you that i'm coming too?

maxverstappen1: @/danielricciardo like hell are you coming on holiday with us

username2: enjoy your break, you deserve a great rest ❤️

username3: how am i supposed to survive three weeks without you???

landonorris: try not to injure yourself, that would be a shame wouldn't it... 😭

maxverstappen1: @/landonorris careful you almost sound like a sore loser

username4: the title isn't far away...we know you can do it!!

username5: we all know you're going to win so there's no point even trying 💪🏻

redbullracing: thanks for all your hard work so far max, enjoy the break!

username6: that's more like it, my world champion! 🌍

georgerussell63: don't think we'll let you get that title so easily

username7: i can't wait to see what you and y/n get up to

alex_albon: can't wait to see you tonight on a double date we've had no say on

maxverstappen1: @/alex_albon i'm already sick of the sight of you 🙄

alex_albon: @/ynusername sort your man out

ynusername: @/alex_albon sorry the only reason i'm hanging out with you is to see lily 🤷🏻‍♀️

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liked by carmenmmundt, maxverstappen1 and 427,189 others

ynusername: belgium might be up there as one of my new favourite places. such a great way to spend the last couple of days before holiday season 🧇💕

42,816 comments

username8: i've never felt so jealous of a food pic in my life

carmenmmundt: and whereabouts was my invite to going and eating all the waffles?? 😭

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt you're still in monaco so stfu

username9: thank you for always showing up and supporting max yn!!

landonorris: i see, we all eat strict diets in the paddock and you walk around eating any sweet you can find 🙄

ynusername: @/landonorris perks of being a wag

username10: speaking for belgium, we'll welcome you back anytime 🇧🇪

danielricciardo: i don't recognise you with all these aesthetic photos these days

ynusername: @/danielricciardo thought i'd better up my game, aiming to graduate to a .jpg account soon

username11: pls yn we're relying on you for max spam over the next three weeks

maxverstappen1: glad you enjoyed the trip love, the perfect start to our break 💕

username12: it's not fair how one person can be as beautiful as you are

username13: i'm praying for plenty of yn posts to get me through this summer break 🙏🏻

alexandrasaintmleux: next year you're taking me to wherever that is

ynusername: @/alexandrasaintmleux pencilling it into my diary as we speak ✍️

username14: i just adore the relationship that yn and the drivers have together

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liked by landonorris, schecoperez and 2,173,690 others

maxverstappen1: up, up and away to our first destination. looking forward to a fun couple of weeks with my favourite person 🫶🏻✨

285,682 comments

landonorris: it’s taken four years but you’re officially an insta boyfriend 👏🏻👏🏻

maxverstappen1: @/landonorris if I knew what that meant I’d say thank you

username15: i cannot believe it's been two days and max has already posted omg 😱

danielricciardo: still offended that you didn’t organise this trip with me included

maxverstappen1: @/danielricciardo still offended that you think we’d want you as a third wheel on our holiday 😂

username16: two people are not allowed to be this beautiful on a flight

charles_leclerc: alex is also very disappointed that we didn't get an invite on this trip too...

username17: my heart can't take this and it's only the first post 😊

ynusername: tbh I’d go anywhere in the world as long as I was with you 🥺

username18: praying you two can have a peaceful break without any interruptions

redbullracing: safe travels and see you in three weeks!!

username19: are you really telling me that max managed to take a photo that good of yn???

aussiegrit: i don't recognise you on social media these days...

username20: my two favourite people in the world ahhhhhh 😍😍

oscarpiastri: i think i need one or two photography tips off of you verstappen!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxverstappen1, lilymhe and 529,319 others

ynusername: enjoying the views and the company, never wanting this trip to end

22,492 comments

username21: damn yn you've got the best view out of all of us

alex_albon: you're obliged to come home as your absence is making my girlfriend incredibly annoying!!

danielricciardo: you two make me sick sometimes... 😂

ynusername: @/danielricciardo no one asked you to come and see this post??

username22: the beach photos omg i can't cope

landonorris: we get it. you're in love. now please stop bragging.

username23: what are you doing to me yn?? stop messing with my heart ❤️

maxverstappen1: you always manage to find those angles that make me look good!!

ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 any angle of you is a good angle! 🥺

username24: well that's certainly one way to make us all jealous wtf

carmenmmundt: i fancy you so much omg

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt just missing my true partner in crime by my side 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

username25: these photos remind me daily why i dream of having a relationship like these two

charles_leclerc: now alex is mad at me that i've not taken her to a beach to see the sunset, thanks guys

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc @/alexandrasaintmleux i've got your back! 💪🏻

username26: all i want is to be lifted on the beach as beautifully as max lifts yn

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by redbullracing, danielricciardo and 528,193 others

ynusername: i promise i'm still making him work hard despite the fact it's off season. those other drivers won't know what's hit them soon

68,291 comments

username27: couples who train together stay together...or something like that 💪🏻

lilymhe: come and train me instead wtf...

ynusername: @/lilymhe i'm all yours when we get home i promise

username28: max secretly looks like he's loving it don't worry yn

georgerussell63: did you and carmen make a deal to torment your boyfriends with the gym over the summer?? 🤔

ynusername: @/georgerussell63 we just want you to look your best

username29: running must be easy with views as good as those

danielricciardo: stop showing off that your boyfriend is a professional athlete even whilst on holiday 😂

username30: now this is a world champion, on holiday and still making sure he's staying strong...

landonorris: do you reckon you could accidentally trip him up and rule him out for the next few months?? 🤔

ynusername: @/landonorris i'll break your ankle before i break his...

username31: notice the colour coordinated outfits? no? just me?

username32: this'll have the other drivers quaking in their boots yn hahah

schecoperez: how much did max protest that he wouldn't go out for a run?

ynusername: @/schecoperez i bet you deal with less tantrums at home then i do with him! 😂😂

username33: it's not fair, max is already at an advantage getting to work out with you!!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 2,583,597 others

maxverstappen1: riding into the second half of the season like...

427,078 comments

username34: fast, strong and in the lead, just how you'll be for the rest of the season

landonorris: congratulations on finally making a funny post 👏🏻

username35: someone looks like they're showing off for their girlfriend lmao

charles_leclerc: damn you're such a cool kid these days

username36: no way did max come up with this caption, it's far too funny for him

ynusername: with how big a crash you had earlier i hope you don't race like that next week 😂

maxverstappen1: @/ynusername that was supposed to stay between us!! 🤫

username37: everyone say thank you yn for showing max how to do social media properly

carlossainz55: the name's verstappen...max verstappen 🕶️

danielricciardo: how much did you have to pay yn to come up with this caption for you??

username38: i don't think i'm prepared for the off season spam to end

username39: now we watch max go silent again until december when the season ends

redbullracing: we can assure you max will not be arriving back at red bull on jet ski fyi 😂

username40: out in front and world champion again no doubt!!

oscarpiastri: at least if you're on a jet ski i've got a chance of beating you... 🤔

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[zarnzarn]

TW: jumping on the manwhore au but aftermath, discussion of S/A, read carefully.

Three weeks pass.

Odysseus is carried through them with ecstasy and joy, reuniting and grieving and laughing and rearranging.

But then everything settles down, and-

It was him who'd ordered it. Ordered owls to be carved into every free inch of Ithaka, coveted shipments of the secretive birds for his personal menagerie, sold trinkets in the market. Made no secret of who favoured them, when he had half the houses painted blue.

But now every step he takes in his own home haunts him.

He cannot so much as look to the side before feeling the urge to flinch away, shame growing inside of him until it chokes him up. Cannot look at any owls. Cannot look at any of his men.

("Well, if our captain can't think his way out of it, at least now we know talking filthy works just as well!" One of the men chortles, unaware of how Odysseus' blood had run cold, standing with his hand raised to knock.)

("This day, you've lost it all, consider this as my goodbye-")

("Come on, she's a beautiful, powerful lady! How bad could it really have been, Captain?")

("Captain?" Eurylochus whispers, as Odysseus wipes the blood off his mouth and reaches for his cloak. The ships are silent, even though the roar of the waves has left. Eyes stare at him from all directions, wide and-

Pitying? Horrified? Odysseus can't really tell.

"Full speed ahead," He says, voice ruined, and keeps his chin high as he hobbles back to his room.)

(When the sirens come, all he sees is Penelope. It is nice, at least, to know that he can discard the intrusive thoughts creeping in about natural reactions and forced pleasures.)

("Please- please don't do this, don't make me choose, I'll do anything-")

("Leave me the fuck alone, both of you. If Penelope does not take me back after all of this, it's her choice. But I have to get all of us off this island and it's better me than you.")

"Ody- Your Majesty!" Odysseus reaches into his robes, pulls out the whittling tool and the wood, busies himself as he walks. It's one of the younger men, the ones who'd barely been boys when they left. "Listen, we were wondering if- if you'd come join us at the festival! The- all of the men, really, we've been- heh- missing you since we now have to share you with the rest of the kingdom. We could- we could sing together? Like we used to?"

Athena's prayers.

"You go ahead," Odysseus murmurs, eyes on the carving. "Next time."

"But you didn't come for the last one either!"

"I have-" He hears his own sharp tone, stops and swallows to soften it. He was terrible to all of them, he knows, those last few days aboard the ship, rude and sharp and brutal like all the other royals, where he never was before. "I have work to do. Have a good day. I've heard the new hound stock is coming in today, you should see if you want a pet."

He ignores whatever is said in response, walking on. He wonders, darkly, what they think of him. Do they still think he enjoyed it? That it was a privilege to be had by gods?

("He won't speak to us!" One of them hiss that night, when the lad comes back sniffling and downcast, like all the others. They'd grown up with Odysseus, almost like younger brothers, and all of the younger ones were taking the sudden frigid silence hard. They all were. Somewhere they had lost their friend, left him behind without noticing, until only their king returned. "He cannot possibly think we think less of him for sacrificing so much, for- the gods are impossible to hold up against, he can't think we blame him for-"

"We don't know what he thinks," Polites says, pulling his head out of his hands and wrapping his arms around himself. "He doesn't even look at us."

The men around the fire are all silent.

"He has to know, right?" Someone whispers. "He has to.")

"What did happen on the trip back?" Penelope says, voice quiet, sitting next to him. He jolts. When did he reach their bedroom? "Something did. You have barely touched me since that first day."

Odysseus opens his mouth, but for the first time, he has nothing to say. What can he? She had known, the first second he had turned his eyes from her in shame, and yanked him back in anyway with eyes blazing like a lion, growling that she didn't care what he had to do to come back, as long as he had.

Odysseus doesn't feel like he has.

Penelope carefully takes the whittling knife away from him, as well as the spear he'd carved. "And you have not prayed, after your return."

(He had tried. Had walked right upto the temple steps when everyone was asleep, and then turned around and thrown up in a bush.)

"Have you heard the story of the high priestess Medusa?" He murmurs, staring at the wall. Watches the shadows dancing across. "Athena used to tell me about her. One of her favourite devotees. I never understood why she cursed her, when it was not her fault."

Penelope puts a hand on his shoulder. Both of them are shaking. She has seen the scars, the ones that glow beautiful and bright, left behind by each god who touched him.

"A gorgon, snake-woman, capable of turning anyone she looked upon to stone, gods and humans alike. No eyes upon her, ever again."

The breeze blows in.

"At the time, I thought it to be a curse." He whispers. Remembers the story of the way she had screamed in the temple bower for Athena's help, insane, at the feeling he knows now is violation of self and celibacy both; Athena's chosen, ripped away from one of their ways of worship by force. "Now I know it was a blessing."

"But-" Penelope swallows. "Perseus-"

"Was a mercy." He looks at the ground. "She was pregnant. She did not wish to be. Athena granted her so."

"The shield is to honor her," Penelope murmurs. "Not a trophy."

He hums.

"I-" Penelope starts, voice thick. "I remember when you asked. When we first got married. If I was fine with not being joined with you in bed often, as long as I was satisfied. Was it-?"

"Only her priestesses can have true celibacy, her devotees less, me lesser. I had a crown to continue, so Athena accepted a more lenient vow, when I became her student." He stares out at the sea, the sky. "But I had vowed. I had sworn." A half-sob escapes him, some delayed noise of grief. It feels far away now, and the scars have all healed, but he cannot move past the violation, the stares, the whispers. The shame of betrayal. "I had an oath, Penelope."

"It was not your fault," Penelope whispers, taking his hand like he will shatter like glass. "Poseidon seems to target all of Athena's people. If anything-"

"We fought," He says, turning his head to press his face to her shoulder, shuddering as he confesses it. Abandoned by his own god. "She left. Maybe this is her punishment, all the eyes, all the time. Paranoid that another Olympian will jump out of the shadows, do it again."

"Or," Penelope says after a long pause. "She does not know. Only one way to truly find out."

Odysseus considers.

"Could you," He swallows, throat clicking. "Could you get me- the things from my shrine?"

-

He does not expect her to actually arrive.

He shakes in front of her, for the first time, feeling small and foolish and broken. Wishes he could go back to being twelve, do it all over correctly. "Lady Athena," He says, as formally as he can. "I beg your forgiveness. Please- please, is there anything I can do to-"

"About time," She interrupts, bored. "Finally willing to concede that I was right?"

Odysseus feels bile rise in his throat. "Yes, goddess. I was- stupid, to ever consider otherwise."

Penelope's hand is clenched tight in his robes, kneeling with him.

"Good," Athena says, pleased. "A war well won, all things considered. Our glory will go down in the history books." A pause. "Why are you on the floor?"

"What?" He chokes out.

"You've never kneeled to me once, even when I've taken you out at the ankles, you impudent brat," She snorts. Odysseus feels his pounding heart freeze in his chest at the- fondness in her voice. Fondness. She is not furious with him, not unforgiving. "What, do you want something else-"

She knocks him on the head, flicking him on the forehead playfully- then freezes as he looks up at her. Goes completely still, and he knows she can see what they did to him.

Penelope's hand reaches out to steady him.

"Only your forgiveness, goddess," His voice breaks. "Only that."

-

After, Penelope holds him, crying silently herself as she wipes at his cheeks. Athena sits with her head in her hands, helmet removed, anger finally under control but completely silent. Just sits there at the edge of their bed, bent over, face buried in her own palms.

Finally, she straightens, inhaling. Turns to look at him. "You may not be alive to see it," She tells him, quiet and furious. "But this is their last transgression, I swear to you. I will find a way to get revenge. They will die."

"I do not-"

"They will die. And no vows have been broken." She hesitates, hand hovering over his ankle. Odysseus crumbles, nodding desperately, and nearly passes out at the relief of the familiar touch, sharp and cleansing, godly and unlike the chaos of all the others. "You need not apologise to me about that."

He sniffs, turning his face into Penelope's shoulder. It feels freeing, some latent relief that Athena finally sees him, understands, forgives. She is not the terrifying goddess so far removed, cold and cruel, that he was starting to think she truly might be; bowed over in grief and horror for him, like a friend- he just wishes this was not the reason why.

Her eyes are gold at the edges. Crying. Nauseated almost, at the fact that- her uncle. Her father.

"Would you-" Odysseus wheezes. His heart hurts still, for their fight, for what happened after, for how hard he knows she will take it. "Can you-"

"Anything, champion," She says softly, strained. Gives him a half-smile. "My friend."

"The wings-" He whispers, feeling stupid, but-

"Slow," Penelope murmurs, reaching out to steady Athena as she climbs in close. Her voice is wrecked. She does not say anything more.

Owl wings fold around him, not white or blue or pink, patterned and brown like the mud; home. Home.

"No one will see you," Athena murmurs, and her voice is wretched, but caring. "No one can see you. Peace."

"Peace," Odysseus repeats, and leans into them both, letting the darkness shroud around them like an embrace. Peace.

Home.

[natailiatulls07]

Obsessed with their love

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

-

yourusername posted a story

(Caption: past my bedtime, feeling tired...)

landonorris

Some of us are excited to be in singapore...you guess who

Tagged: yourusername

Liked by mclaren and 673,724 others

username No cause she's my spirit animal

mclaren leave my babe alone, she had a hard week

= landonorris doing what? hanging out with me, her wonderful and hot boyfriend!

= yourusername yep :)

username I love this relationship almost too much ahah

= username honestly same

yourusername

brought the cam with me to singapore!

Tagged: landonorris

Liked by maxfewtrell and 367,265 others

username that first pic ahaha

username beautiful stunning gorg pretty cute

= landonorris my words exacty ;)

alexandrasaintmleux I need you to do my hair angel omfg

= yourusername omg yess

username fav wag hands down

yourusername

we've been busy bees

Tagged: landonorris

Liked by lilymhe and 526,846 others

username I'm so jealous rn

username they dip for three weeks, only leaving us crumbs and then they come back with a bang

lilymhe hun I miss youuuu

= yourusername I miss you tooo :(((

username she always posts the weirdest pics of Lando ahaha

username iconic couple period.

landonorris

busy busy bees

Tagged: yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1 and 845,675 others

username she is honestly too cuteee

username I want a love like this :(

yourusername wait when was the picture??

= landonorris heheheh ;)

username obsessed with this coupleeee

-

[literaila]

three things

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: a fun trip to the grocery store (how do you raise children?)

warnings: a bit of anxiety, a bit too much of gojo

last part | next part

*

year one.

"no, satoru." 

how many times have you said that today? 

how many times has satoru pouted--like he's doing right now--and put back whatever he'd plucked off the shelf, grumbling something about how you hated him or you weren't his mom or how he was the one buying everything? 

oh, too many times to count. you stopped after five. 

megumi rolls his eyes with you, already familiar with this routine, looking at everything in the cart again with the same analytical eye he's had since you all walked into the store. you're pretty sure he's counting the total cost.

it might be cute--the way his frown deepens just a little bit after each new item is added--if it didn't worry you completely. 

because it's the first time you've taken the two of them to the store, and the first time you're trying to recall everything their eyes trail over, the things they want but neither of them will say.

you're trying to remember yourself as a kid--if you begged your parents for anything you could possibly want, or if you stood there and stared longingly. but your childhood has always been a dull memory you keep hidden in the attic of your mind. 

so you're not sure what to expect. 

because neither of them has asked for much, since the first night. tsumiki requested a notebook she could draw in, and megumi asked if you could get gojo to stop talking to him. 

the first which you did immediately, even letting gojo get her some expensive pencils to draw with, the second which you... tried. 

it hasn't been easy, the past few days. settling two kids into a dysfunctional house didn't exactly fit into your schedule for the week. 

"why not?" satoru demands, walking right along slide you, pushing the cart because you'd forced him to. "we need dessert." 

"there are seven different types of dessert already in there. i'm hiding at least three of those, by the way." 

"i'll find them," satoru grins mischievously, but waves a hand. "we've got two extra people in the house now. i'm not just shopping for me. do you want them to starve?" 

you roll your eyes, again. then pull on his hair, which he squeaks at. "you're only shopping for you. i've seen your pantries, you know. and i lived with you for three years. we all saw your grocery lists." 

satoru is about to say something, but tsumiki giggles. maybe at the stupid way his face looks. 

the way he's almost smiling, even in denial. how his eyes show from just behind his glasses, his brows moving like a separate entity on his face. 

you haven't really talked to him, the past couple of days. nothing beyond a question about megumi's technique, or where the two of them went to school. 

how long will it take before you finally ask him--

you look over to tsumiki, shaking your head at satoru and smiling back. 

"megumi doesn't like sweets much," she adds to you, easily.

you add it to the mental list of things you know about them.

you look at the little boy, and he nods, looking straight ahead. his shoes catch on the ground every couple of steps like they don't fit right. 

satoru gasps like this is an outrage. because not drinking straight sugar is offensive to him. 

"what?" he asks, stopping all three of you so he can grab megumi by the shoulders. "were you cursed?" he inspects the boy carefully, peering over the glasses on his face.

megumi seems to sink back with each glance of his eyes, his face turning red. 

"cursed to deal with you, maybe," you tell him, pushing him away from megumi. the boy fixes his hair--which had been pushed over his eyes--and glares at satoru.

"he doesn't like sweets?" the man repeats, mouth open, glancing at all three of you like he's not sure that any of you are sane.

"you say that as if you don't eat enough for all four of us." 

"i need the calories," satoru whines, fluttering his eyelashes at you. you ignore him--and the funny way you feel about the gesture.

you look at both of the kids, observing the two of you closely, and give them a look. a look as in, he's crazy. 

megumi swallows. "i like dango." 

"great!" you nudge satoru to keep walking. "we'll get some." 

"that's it?" satoru prods. "what about--" 

you pinch his hip and shake your head, glaring at him when he pouts at you again. 

you step on his heels as you walk through the aisles, still watching the kids with sharp eyes, trying to figure out anything they might want. 

tsumiki murmurs something to megumi every once and a while, but beyond that, they only walk alongside you and satoru, stepping out of the way of any other adults that pass by. 

honestly, you might as well have taken them to the park. they don't even glance at any of the shelves--except when satoru pushes one of them away to grab something. at least at the park, they'd be getting some fresh air. 

after you sigh in--what? frustration? disappointment?--for the fourth time, satoru gives you a look, raising his brows. you shake your head. 

he nudges you with his shoulder but doesn't say anything. whistling while he sneaks more sugar into the cart. 

after the fifteenth minute of this, megumi falls in stride beside you and you look down at him. his eyes evade yours, focusing on the necklace you're wearing instead.

"um, i have to use the restroom," he says to you, soft and embarrassed. 

"okay," you place a hand on his back, gently turning him around, "i think it's just over here," you say, listening as satoru follows along idly. 

"me too," tsumiki says, trailing on your other side. 

the store is almost completely empty, so you tell the two of them that you'll wait right outside the door, and lean against the wall, watching the both of them disappear. 

satoru is already looking at you. 

"what?" you groan, glaring at the doors. 

"what what?" 

you sigh. his voice is annoying. "why are you looking at me?" 

satoru is too close for comfort, his arm brushing against yours--uncomfortably of course because he is the worst--without a care in the world. "what's up?" 

"what do you mean?" 

"why are you acting weird?" 

"i'm not acting weird," you look at him, frowning. 

he's wiping his glasses on his shirt--like he can actually see out of them--and looking at you quizzically. "oh, so you staring at tsumiki and megumi like they're a science experiment isn't weird?" 

you ignore him and his stupid blue eyes. 

"if i was doing that you'd push me down a flight of stairs, but okay..." 

you sigh again, rolling your eyes. and then again. and then you relent because satoru's silence will inevitably break you. "they haven't asked for anything," you say, almost whining to him. "you told them they could pick out whatever they want." 

satoru shrugs. "so they don't want anything." 

"everyone wants something, satoru. especially kids." 

"everyone?" 

"yes. i'd expect you to know better than anyone," he laughs but you frown. "it's a human trait." 

he smirks, leaning down towards you. "what do you want, then?" 

you scoff, flicking his forehead. "i want them to feel comfortable. and i want you to stop bugging megumi." 

"but he makes it so easy," satoru says, pretending to be innocent.

"you're the adult, here," you say, even though you don't really believe it--nor should you. "act like it." 

"all the kid does is scowl," satoru complains. "i'm just trying to make him comfortable." 

"by invading his space?" 

"you stare from far away, i stare from up close." 

"you antagonize." 

satoru grins, crossing his arms, very pleased with himself. he's silent again. 

the past year has almost made you forget that satoru knows you like this. he's always known how to keep you talking, how to read your face and your hesitant glances. 

it's not like time could make him forget. it's not like you've forgotten anything about him. 

"you aren't worried?" you ask, after a second. 

"about the kids?" 

"yes," you say, obviously, "that we're already messing something up." 

he gives you a dubious look. "it's been four days." 

and he's right. you can't expect to understand either one of them after seventy-two hours of merely knowing about their existence. but you don't know how to treat kids like these, because any mistake you make--anything you say--will inevitably come back to haunt you. 

"it's--" you shake your head. satoru doesn't worry about anything, so you don't even know why you're bringing it up. "it's like when you play with someone else's kid and feel like you're breaking some unspoken rule. except this time we're the ones making the rules. there's no one to tell us if we mess up." 

"i think megumi would tell us," satoru answers, almost sarcastically. 

"he's the kid, idiot," you groan. "he doesn't know." 

"rude," satoru is still grinning. "what could you have messed up, at this point? all you've been doing is asking them questions. that's pretty straightforward." 

"maybe it's too much, too fast." 

satoru snorts, shaking his head at you. "grocery shopping?" 

"everything." 

satoru raises a brow at you, watching as you deflate. you feel like each move you make takes a little more air out of you, and who's to say when you'll finally run out? 

how many mistakes do you have to make to finally get it right? 

and you know--and you know that he knows--that it's not just about them, but about you. is this too fast? is this too much?

satoru rests a hand on your head. "you're too in your head about this." 

"well, i have to do it for the both of us." 

he ignores that. "if they need something, they'll ask," the words are soft, genuine. he's completely sure like he always is. "you made it clear that we're just here to help. it's been four days." 

you sigh, nodding reluctantly. 

"we'll figure it out," he says, simply. "you don't need to worry about anything. i mean, i'm here, so..." 

you push his hand away, glaring. "megumi doesn't even talk to you." 

"hey, yes he does." 

"to call you a freak, maybe. or tell you to shut up." 

"don't be jealous of my relationship with megumi. we're bonding." 

you roll your eyes but find a laugh making its way out of you. 

he's always been good at this, too. making everything seem easy. 

when tsumiki comes out of the bathroom door, she smiles at the sight of the two of you still there--both talking animatedly, with similar glares in your eyes. she settles in beside satoru, copying him as she leans against the wall. 

"you think i'm great, don't you tsumiki?" satoru asks her, goading. 

she nods immediately. 

you snort and look away while tsumiki giggles when satoru leans down to smack a kiss on her cheek. 

something inside of you warms, just briefly. 

and then megumi comes out, rubbing his hands together. unlike tsumiki, he glares at satoru and chooses to stand beside you. 

"okay," satoru clasps his hands together. "are you both ready to go?" 

"um," you turn to him. "satoru we haven't--" 

megumi nods immediately, looking a bit brighter at the prospect, and tsumiki furrows her brows, questioning. 

"great! both of you pick out three things that you want and then we'll leave." 

megumi glowers. 

"three things?" you clear your throat. "they need more--" 

"three things," satoru repeats, looking right at megumi while he says it. some words pass non-verbally between the two of them. you might have to tell satoru not to talk to megumi about anything without you. "we'll get everything else we need." 

tsumiki runs alongside megumi and grabs his arm, which he allows, though you watch his eyes roll. 

"go on," satoru shoos them away, smiling all proudly. when they're gone, he turns to you again. "there. now you don't have to worry about picking something they like." 

and he reaches his hand to grab yours, as a simple habit. 

satoru has never tip-toed around the line of physical contact. even with shoko, even when she would push him off.

something passes between the two of you. holding his hand is familiar; egged on by four years of standing alongside him. 

you try not to flinch away from the contact. 

and, sure, satoru probably just lost both of them in the store, and you don't actually have everything else you need, or know what those things are, but he's smiling at you. 

he's trying to be reassuring. 

so you smile back and let him hold your hand. 

"we'll figure it out," he whispers to you, and you push the cart this time while the two of you try to find the children he just lost.

*

later that night--after forcing satoru to put away the groceries with the rest of you--megumi lets you sneak into his room with a (third) bag of candy that satoru grabbed last second, acting like you wouldn't notice. 

"where's the best hiding spot for this?" you ask him, looking around.

it's pretty doubtful that satoru would risk going into megumi's room just to look for it. and, you're sure, that megumi probably wouldn't let satoru open the door, nonetheless go through his things.

the boy points at his dresser and moves some clothes so you can hide it at the bottom of one of the drawers. he doesn't even question your motivations.

as you back out of the room again, you make him promise not to tell, and, for a single second, megumi smiles back at you, crossing his heart. 

*

next part

[delusional-day-dreamer]

So High School Part¹- k.m

‣ kate martin x celebrity reader (inspired fully by @ellienator)

‣ wc: 1216

‣‣ synopsis: reader, who has been famous all her life (think mckenna grace or peyton elizabeth lee), reveals her celebrity crush in a Vanity Fair interview with close friend, Sabrina Carpenter.

‣‣‣ a/n: pre write: i'm so obsessed with the wcbb x celebrity trope, also sorry it’s so long but i wanted to use this fic to practice writing more dialogue! after: i started around one a.m. and somehow finished this at almost FOUR AM after writing non-stop... (IT WOULDN'T LET ME UPLOAD THIS, I TRIED LIKE TWENTY TIMES)

"I swear to god, you have to stop touching your hair y/n," my manager, Alyssa, looked up from her phone just to scold me for the second time in the last twenty minutes.

"I'm sorry but I literally cannot help it right now Lyss, you don't understand how nervous I am for this," I insisted to her. "I'm so stupid, out of all the men AND women in the entire celebrity pool world wide, why did I have to say that Kate freaking Martin was my celebrity crush," I whine, albeit childishly, while squirming in the leather seats of our limo.

Three Weeks Ago

"Hi my name is Y/N L/N, and today I am here with Vanity Fair with the one and only..." You introduced yourself to the camera before gesturing to the woman next to you, one of your closest childhood friends.

"Sabrina Carpenter! And today we are going to be testing out a little lie detector test," After growing up on Disney sets together and respectively journeying out of the acting industry into music, you and Sabrina had only grown closer over the years you had known each other.

As the proctor introduces how the interview will go, Sabrina volunteers you to be in the hot seat first, and with some small bickering, you relent.

"So let's start of small just to test it out you know, how old are you?" Sabrina asks you from the other end of the table.

"I actually just turned 23 years old," you respond calmly, happy that your friend was taking it slow. With the proctor's approval, the two of you move on with the questioning.

SMALL TIME SKIP

"What is your biggest ick in a relationship? Wait I think we've talked about this before right?" Sabrina animatedly asks, eager to hear you response.

"No yea we definitely have, but the thing is for me," you start, "I don't have a type, like at all. Man, woman, celebrity, athlete, a totally regular person, I don't really care. To me, if you're attractive then you're attractive right?" Sabrina nodded in agreement to your statement. "So it's not often I get icked out, however, my biggest and literal immediate turn-off is when they start being overwhelmingly jealousy or being possessive about me, even like just being overbearing about my every move is an immediate no for me. It's honestly why I've been single for a while now," You respond thoroughly.

It was no secret to your fans that you were bisexual, considering your last very public relationship was with a woman.

"That's honestly such a valid ick, like if you think you own me then please escort yourself out that's honestly so gross," Sabrina piggybacks off your answer. "But I'm dying to ask and there's no way you expected me to not ask you this question, but, you've been a single lady for quite some time now," Sabrina teases, wiggling her eyebrows repeatedly at you.

"Oh no, I know where you're going with this," You complain, already beginning to feel a flush rising in your face.

"Do you have your eyes on anybody right now? Specifically, do you currently have a celebrity crush?" Sabrina asks you with the widest, most smug shit-eating grin on her face as she watches the blush begin to form on your cheeks.

"Yes I do," you mumble, rolling your eyes at your friend in the process.

"Who is it?" She pushes, knowing that once she asked, you basically had no choice but to answer according to the interview rules.

"Dude that's so not fair I don't wanna tell the entire internet that," you protest weakly.

"Come on! It's not even that big of a deal, besides you're super hot, I'm sure she'll be flattered," Sabrina insisted to you while trying to hold back her grin.

"Sab!" You groan as her big mouth reveals the gender of your crush, automatically giving away part of their identity.

"Oh shoot sorry," She quickly apologizes, covering her mouth with the interview question card in her hand. "But like, you're gonna tell them who it is either way so I'm not sure it matters," She adds in slyly, reveling in the red flush that had now visibly engulfed the entirety of your face.

"Okay fine whatever, it's Kate Martin," you mumble under your breath looking down at your shoes, attempting to escape the embarrassment burning inside of you.

"No that's definitely cheating, you have to actually say her name," Sab giggled at the state you were in.

"Oh my gosh fine," you exclaimed while waving your face with a paper from the desk, trying to lessen the appearance of the blush on your face. "It's Kate Martin alright? She plays basketball at the University of Iowa, has just declared for the WNBA Draft, and she's incredibly attractive, so literally sue me." You end the mini rant with both hands in the air, embarrassed and mildly annoyed at the fact that your friend had coaxed you into admitting your crush.

Sabrina laughed in delight, smacking her hand excitedly on the table in front of you to in response to your confession.

"OH MY GOSH, OH MY GOSH, tell me you've seen the edits of her on tiktok because there's no way you don't have any favorited or saved on your phone," Sabrina wheezed through her bout of laughter.

"Obviously I've seen them but I haven't favorited any of them," you defended weakly.

"That's a lie," the proctor informed you two, which sent Sabrina into a second round of wheezing laughs.

"NO WAY, how many? Like a hundred? Two hundred? More than that?" She exclaimed, somehow managing to tease you while still being out of breath with laughter.

"Like two or three maybe, like at most," You lied, despite knowing that they would find out.

"Still lying," the proctor slightly smiled, only furthering Sabrina's howling laughter to the point she nearly fell out of her chair.

"My god, you could at least pretend to be a little less overjoyed at this," you grumbled, attempting and failing to hide the giggles beginning to spill out of you at the sound of your friend's infectious laughter. You eventually gave up on trying to pretend being annoyed and joined Sab with her maniacal laughing, unable to control yourselves for the next few minutes.

"I hope you realize I'm so getting you back for that," You teased Sabrina as the two of you switched seats to continue the second half of the interview, your questions and Sabrina's answers.

END OF FLASHBACK

"Y/n it's not even that big of a deal, you just said she was attractive, it's not like you professed your deep-profound love for her," Alyssa insisted.

"I practically admitted to favoriting tiktok edits of her Alyssa, I'm literally doomed," you sighed dramatically leaning your head to the cool glass of the limo window.

"Yea well," Alyssa began, texting on her phone once again, "You're just gonna have to put on your big girl pants and deal with it because we're almost there and they wanna interview you on the red carpet and right when you enter the theater, and it’s quite literally the WNBA Draft, so there's no way they're not gonna bring up Kate," she informed you.

"I'm actually gonna die," you declare.

Thanks for reading all the way through! I'll be coming out with part two very soon!!

[doctorwhoandfairytaillover]

Loving Arms

Summary: The children of Viserys I from his wife Alicent Hightower had always been lacking in affection from their parents. They simply didn't realize how much until their widowed aunt was brought into their lives. (AU where Alicent has an older sister and her kids get the love that they deserve, takes place some time after the Driftmark event)

Part I: An Important Guest

A/N: No pairings as of right now as I want to focus on the familial and platonic relationships with Greens when they're still quite young. This is possibly only the beginning (credit for the divider goes to @kawaii-lau)

126 AC

Some months after the funeral of the Lady Laena Velaryon, wife of the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen there was much clamor in the Red Keep. For the eldest daughter of Otto Hightower had been summoned to court after more than a decade away from the intrigue and politics that surrounded the throne and her family. Not much was known about the sister of the Queen apart from what had been known from her previous shorts visits in the early years of her sisters marriage and births of the younger royal children. The elder Hightower girl had been married two years prior to Alicent's own marriage to the King.

Hoping for a future alliance with the house of his eldest daughter's husband, Otto had the girl married to the younger brother of Qoren Martell who served as the reigning Prince of Dorne. But upon the death of his son by law, it was expected by the Hand of the King that his daughter would return to follow her filial duty of remarrying once more upon her return. Only... the man had not accounted for how his grandchildren would come to react to the arrival of their long unseen aunt.

--------

Aemond was positively annoyed with his older brother Aegon, "You could not think to ready yourself for our guests arrival ahead of time? Must you always make the lot of us appear inadequate because you choose to drink yourself into a stupor?"

Halaena, Aegon, and Aemond were specifically told to prepare for an important guests arrival but because of the elder amongst the three not being ready on time, it appeared that they would be late in their greetings. In his haste to reach the throne room faster, Aemond almost stumbled over his own feet and he cursed quietly to himself as he attempted to avoid tripping.

"Need help walking, do you Aemond?" Aegon giggled.

"I can walk just fine," Aemond mumbled. "I simply need a bit more time to recover my sense of balance on account of my... my eye."

The younger Targaryens response quieted his brother and the elder turned his attention to their sister.

"Were you told anything about who our important guest is meant to be?" Aegon asked. "One would think that if they were such an important person, we would all have to be alongside our mother and grandsire by the entrance."

Halaena shook her head, "I think we've met them before, but I cannot be certain if it's who I think it might be."

"Oh and pray tell, wise Halaena. Who could it be?" Aegon mocked.

"Didn't mother happen to receive a raven some weeks ago that our uncle the second prince of Dorne, the husband of our aunt had passed from the sweating sickness."

"Why on earth would that woman come?" the eldest asked, "I don't think she has come to visit King's Landing since the birth of our dear Aemond. Not that I could begrudge the woman, I heard that it was a miracle our grandsire married her to a Dornish prince since she apparently was deformed and all found her a lost cause."

"Perhaps if you listened when Mother informed you about who our guest would be, then we would all know, now wouldn't we?" Aemond huffed. "And don't speak of our aunt that way! Show some respect!"

"It doesn't matter, we will know soon enough if it truly is her or not, and it's not as if our aunt will ever know, I doubt it could be her" Aegon grumbled.

The doors to the throne room were opened upon their arrival and all but one turned to look at the trio that had come into the room quite late. The children could see the frown that their mother wore clear as day when she looked upon them, her disapproval apparent at their actions. While their grandsire had a near equal downturn of his lips but it was more in his eyes that one could see the disappointment at the trio.

"Ah, so good of my grandchildren to finally make their appearance!" said ser Otto. "We had all wondered when you might grace us with your presence!"

Aegon merely rolled his eyes at the words of his grandsire, while Aemond and Halaena looked down in embarrassment.

"Oh come now Father, I am sure that my nephews and niece meant no harm and tried to make haste. They couldn't have expected that I would be the one to arrive."

Three sets of eyes were quick to look over at the person who spoke.

They could only see her profile, but it was apparent that the person could be no other person than their elusive aunt. The eldest daughter to Otto Hightower and his wife Alyrie Florten, widow of Prince Doran of House Martell, the Lady (Y/N) Hightower.

She wasn't an imposing figure, in fact, compared to her father and younger sister. Their aunt was not much, but... that is actually something that they appreciated about the woman. All their lives, the siblings had such imposing men and women that surrounded them or directed them at all times, but not (Y/N). She stood out in a gentle way, a steadiness to her presence. Unlike the prim and elegant hairstyles of the court, it was loosened and decorated with a few blossoms. Her gown was a pale green and embroidered with the symbols of both her own house and that of her late husband, with towers and suns. But most of all, there was no dismay in her gaze as she looked at them from the corner of her eye, rather she smiled affectionately and warmly.

"Come children," Alicent guided them closer. "Come and greet your aunt." And in a harsh whisper to Aegon said, "And don't even think about commenting on her appeareance!"

When their aunt fully turned to them, all held back a gasp when they saw her full countenance. A glassy grey eye stood out on the left hand side of her face that had obviously been burned. Carefully she stepped toward them and the three were ushered forward until they stood only a step away from her.

Unwaveringly she smiled at the trio and approached Aegon first, "You have grown much in the time since I last saw you."

Hesitantly, she reached to cup his face in her hand and the boy flinched, this stopped her movements and made her smile drop slightly. Carefully she waved her hand and asked, "May I?"

Tentatively, Aegon nodded and allowed his aunt to softly cradle his face in her hands. Her one good eye flickered across his face and she smiled at him once more, "Such a handsome young man. Must be the Hightower in you, because you and I seem to share the good looks."

His aunt's comment seemed to release the breath that the group was holding, because Aegon, Halaena, and Aemond couldn't help but giggle. A soft warmth settling in their bodies as they attempted to stifle their uncontrollable laughs.

Alicent saw their laughter as rude and intended on scolding them, but a raised hand from her sister was enough to have her hold her tongue.

Stepping away from her elder nephew, (Y/N) noticed how Halaena's gaze shifted away from her own and understood. She simply curtsied to the girl, "I look forward to getting know you more Halaena and perhaps you could show me your things of interest."

Halaena timidly smiled and curtsied in return, "I like all sorts of insects."

"I am sure you do, sweet girl."

And lastly, her gaze turned to her younger nephew that was shuffling nervously where he stood.

Quietly he asked, "Does it still hurt you?"

Her smile never wavered as she answered, "Thank you for your kind consideration, nephew. Sometimes, it does ache but I am fine now."

A gentle calm settled amongst them, but it was disturbed when ser Otto cleared his throat. "Come, dinner has been prepared and we have dallied long enough. I am sure you have needed a hearty meal."

"Of course, Father" (Y/N) agreed. "I am sure we can continue with pleasantries over a delicious meal."

The Hand of the King, carefully led his daughters out the room and so everyone else took this as a sign to clear the area. But the siblings stayed behind, a clear look between them that there were things they would need to talk about.

Tag List:

@minaxcarter, @hotleaf-juice, @pikomin, @deltamoon666, @cococrazy18, @firefairy, @dracaryxzs, @snowbunny58, @lacherrysouldy, @only4thefics, @queen-luna-007, @ambrivertenergy, @kayllineb12

[auroralwriting]

hii!! this is so random but i just read ur spencer reid x genius! reader fic and i was wondering if u could like expand on it?? or like maybe the team finding out that they went on a date and everyone is like oh gosh finally?? thank u and i love ur writing :P

wedding bells

spencer reid x genius!bau!reader

part two to the gun, can be read as a standalone

spencer and you were enemies, now, you’re just into each other. what happens when you show up to jj's wedding as each other's dates?

word count: 1.6k

warnings: the most insane amount of tooth rotting fluff (you're welcome)

thank you for this request! i decided to expand even more and connect it back to the actual episode i wrote about, 7x24 :)

It had been about two weeks since you’d gotten out of the hospital from your last case; the bank robbery. You managed to get out with a couple of stitches and bruises. You were lucky to be alive.

The one good thing that came from the whole ordeal was the fact that you and Spencer, who was your previous academic-agent enemy, had turned into somewhat of your lover.

It started with trivia night at O’Keefe’s. The two of you decided to just pair rather than join a large team, and you kicked ass. You allowed Spencer to handle more of the academic side of trivia while you took pop culture. Quite literally, you were the only team with points.

That date went so well, that you ended up going out to dinner at the new Chinese place by Spencer’s apartment. That one went great too, and a third came along, a simple date that included Spencer taking you to an art museum.

You actually got to know Spencer, and he got to know you. Sure, you’d been team mates for years, but with suck a strong rivalry, you never got to know the man. You were both eerily alike, and things were going great. There had been no cases, Strauss gave your team a break after JJ’s boyfriend had almost died, along with you.

Spencer and you were at his place watching Doctor Who when you got a phone call. You picked it up, “Hey, Rossi.” The tv was paused and Spencer was looking at you expectantly. “Mhm.. mh- Oh my god! Oh, Rossi. That’s such a good idea. Yes, I’ll be there. I’m, uh, actually with Spencer, so I’ll pass on the message.” Spencer raised an eyebrow at you as you hung up. "Okay, don't freak out, but JJ and Will are engaged."

"What!" Spencer exclaimed with a bright smile. "Oh my god!"

"And Rossi and Will are planning for the wedding to be this Friday," You continued. "JJ doesn't know yet, so we have to keep it a secret."

"Speaking of secrets," Spencer coyly began, "Does Rossi know about, well, us?"

You chuckled, "I didn't tell him, but he knows we've been together more. Significantly more,"

"I've been thinking," Spencer said. "What if we don't keep this a secret anymore."

The only reason it was a secret in the first place was because the team would freak out if they knew you were going out. "I don't think now's the best time to tell them. We don't want to steal JJ's thunder." you frowned.

"No, no!" Spencer quickly shook his head. He grabbed both your hands, rubbing them with his thumbs. "Do you want to be my date to their wedding?"

Your heart raced at his words, and you felt the heat rise to your cheeks. "Yeah, Spence. I'd love to be your date." You smiled brightly.

The wedding was only three days away, and you were quick to go out with Penelope to buy a dress. You wanted something elegant that wouldn't take away from JJ, so you decided on a flowey, burgundy-maroon dress. It was formal, but nothing too glamorous. The whole time, Penelope kept rambling about how since she and Kevin were no more, the two of you could be girl-dates. You casually agreed, not wanting to give up Spencer and your cover yet.

You'd asked Spencer if he wanted to see your outfit on Thursday, but he wanted it to be a surprise. So, with Pen, you both did each other's hair, makeup, and got ready. You arrived together at the Rossi mansion to make everything less conspicuous.

"Oh my god!" Penelope whisper yelled. "Kevin has a date--a date!" She grabbed you and dragged you to Emily and Morgan in a panic. "He brought a date, and I didn't bring a boy date, oh my god I look like an idiot!"

"Pen, you don't look like an idiot." You rubbed her arm softly. "He's the real idiot for moving on so damn fast."

Emily nodded, "And you look so gorgeous, I bet he can't help but think about you. Play it cool."

Penelope took a large sip of her drink. "I'm- I'm gonna go, go somewhere, uh, somewhere he's not."

"Hi, Penelope!" Beth, Hotch's new girlfriend, said cheerfully as she walked up.

"Hey, hi," Penelope quickly walked off.

Beth gave a soft laugh, "Hello everybody."

You smiled and pulled her into a hug, "Ex problems, don't mind her. Hi Beth, and hi Hotch. You both look great."

"Says you! You look absolutely stunning! That is so your color." Beth smiled as she took your hand to spin you around lightly.

The three of you said hello to Jack as well. As the group began to disperse, you quickly spotted Rossi. You made your way over to him, a smile on his face. Rossi was like a father to you. Growing up under his help and guidance, he was more than just a mentor. "Oh, honey. Look at you, you look so grown up."

"Dave, I've been grown up for a lot of years now." You laughed as he kissed your cheek. "Have you seen Spencer by chance?"

"Not yet," Rossi replied. He raised an eyebrow at you, studying your face. "You two are together, aren't you?"

A look of panic crossed your features. "Shh!" You quickly hushed, looking around to see if anyone noticed. When they didn't you turned back to him. "We've been going out on dates, hanging out. That sort of thing. We aren't.. boyfriend-girlfriend."

"I'm happy for you two," Rossi smiled. "You two make a good pair, especially now that you aren't planning each other's murders."

"Who was murdered?"

You turned around to see Spencer standing behind you. His eyes went wide when he saw you. The way you turned, bright eyed and graceful, it made his heart leap in his chest, especially when you looked so ethereal.

Spencer breathed your name softly, looking to Rossi. You gave a small nod, letting him know that Rossi knew. He walked over, giving you a small hug to secretly press a kiss into your hair. The two of you hadn't really kissed yet, but you knew it would happen soon.

"You're an angel," Spencer softly spoke, caressing your cheek as you smiled.

"You look amazing, too." You replied.

Rossi and Spencer gave each other a quick hello before he excused himself to go reveal to JJ that this was her wedding night. It only took a few minutes and JJ ran up to you. You hugged her before she could say anything.

"You knew?" Her voice cracked, but you knew it was from joy.

"We all did," You smiled. "Hey, while you and Will get ready, let Spence watch over Henry."

JJ's eyebrows furrowed as she watched Spencer nod quickly, giving your shoulder a squeeze with the sweetest smile she'd ever seen him give someone. "Uh-"

"Don't worry about it," You shook your head. "This is your night." When you saw JJ was about to ask again, you filled her in. "Going out on dates, not dating."

She just smiled, holding up her dress. "This is it. I wanted to ask you, actually, if you wanted to be my maid of honor? Help me get ready?"

Your eyes filled with tears, "Oh, Jayge. It would be my absolute honor." You hugged her again tightly, leading her upstairs with her mom.

It didn't take long until the ceremony began. You were already at the end of the isle, watching Spencer do a magic trick with the ring with Henry. You giggled, Spencer's eyes meeting yours as he smiled back to you.

JJ was the most beautiful bride you'd ever seen. She came up to the front and you hugged her, taking her flowers from her and standing next to Spencer and Penelope. As the ceremony went on, you found yourself tearing up. Weddings always made you cry. Spencer took notice, taking your hand and pulling you against his chest as he rubbed your arm. The team was too busy watching JJ and Will to notice.

The dancing was the best part. Penelope pulled you to the dance floor before Spencer even had a chance. You happily slow danced with her, then Derek, who stole you away. From there, Hotch had a dance with you, and then Rossi. Finally, at your favorite slow song, Spencer approached.

"Dave, would you mind?" He softly asked.

"It would be my pleasure." Dave passed you off to Spencer with one hand as Spencer slowly pulled you into his arms. If you took closer notice, you'd see him go to Strauss and begin to dance.

"Hi," You whispered, one hand in his as his other rested on your waist. Your free hand was on his shoulder. The two of you began to sway to the music.

"Hi," He echoed, giving you the softest look you'd ever gotten. "I missed you. I didn't even get a chance to dance with you."

You softly giggled, "Well, now it's yours. All yours, Spence." You leaned in closer, "You're the only one I wanted to dance with."

The position changed, both of Spencer's hands were on your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck. This was much more intimate. "You're the only one I want, too." The double meaning made your stomach twist in the best way.

As the two of you danced, your teammates began to finally notice. "Oh my god," Derek mumbled. "Those two dumb geniuses finally got together."

"Actually, they're just going on dates," JJ corrected as she swayed with Will.

Emily smirked, "Not for long by the looks of it."

"They make such a sweet couple," Beth cooed.

Penelope gasped, "Oh my sweet baby Jesus, I took her away from him all night!"

"I'm sure he doesn't mind." Hotch smiled, actually smiled, as they all watched you lean your head on his shoulder, one of his hands coming up to the middle your back to splay out, almost protectively, holding you closer.

"I think I hear some more wedding bells in our future." Derek smiled.

[sturniqlo]

Baby Building- C.S

summary: chris surprises y/n while she out with her friends with a fully finished nursery with the help of his brothers

cw: mild cursing

an: very short, i'm sorry next part will be longer i promise

masterlist | positive masterlist | join my taglist

-----------------------------------------------

twenty weeks pregnant

"Guys, stop fooling around and help build this crib." Chris scolds his brothers, holding up different pieces to the unbuilt crib. "We've been at this for thirty minutes already and all we've gotten done is nailing part A to part R! Which is wrong." Nick places down his water bottle he got from the fridge. "Why'd you choose such a difficult crib to build?" Matt says, unscrewing R from A. "I didn't, Y/n chose it." Chris says handing part B to Matt.

"You didn't think to bring us one?" Chris say, looking at the water bottle. "It was the last one." He shrugs before kneeling down to help build the crib. "I need C!" Matt repeats. "Oh, here." Nick hands it to him.

"Shit, that was actually a fucking workout." Chris stands wiping the slight sweat from his forehead and places his hands in his hips, looking the rest of the things they had to build. Chris was grateful that Y/n only stuck with three things to be added to the baby's room. She had to consider the fact that they weren't going to live in the apartment for much longer.

She decided for only a crib, a dresser/changing station, and a rocking chair to go in the room. The rest would be little decorations here and there. "Alright, should we do the chair and save the hardest for last? Or the other way around?" Chris said, grabbing the water bottle he filled up using the fridge.

"Let's get the dresser done." Chris grabs the cardboard trash and sets it outside the room to create more space in the small room. "Wait, let me turn the air conditioner lower, it's getting so hot in here." He tugs on his tank top and walks out of the room while Nick gets the dresser box open.

"My eyes are hurting from looking at all these pieces." Matt rubs his temples. "Where are the instructions?" Chris looks through the pile of styrofoam. "Over here." Nick opens the booklet. "So we need to screw this piece to that piece." He points to the pieces close to Matt.

As they continue to build the dresser, they keep up a small conversation. "We're not painting or anything right?" Chris shakes his head. "No, I asked the building manager and he said no. Y/n likes the color of the walls, anyway." He says as he screws the top of the dresser in. "What's she doing today?"

"Not sure, I asked her friends to take her out today but, I don't know what they're doing. Probably shopping." Chris shrugs. "I should've gone with them instead of building with you two." Nick sighs. For the next thirty minutes, they finished up the dresser and Chris built the rocking chair alone, which wasn't too much of a hassle.

"Absolutely, not." Nick says. "What? Why not?" Chris questions. "That lamp is not going on the floor, that's stupid!" Nick goes to grab the lamp from Chris and he then places it on the corner of the dresser. "Look, it's much better here." Nick looks at Chris. Matt laughs by the windows, finishing putting the curtains up. "I'm so glad Y/n had everything picked out and you didn't choose the aesthetic of your baby's nursery. Who knows what you would've chosen."

They finish decorating the room and it's just as Y/n had envisioned it. A couple of weeks ago, both Y/n and Chris were in here and Y/n was pointing out where she wanted everything to go and Chris took note of it. As a thank you to his brothers, Chris orders them lunch before they head out. Halfway through them eating their burgers. Chris gets a text from Y/n's best friend, Pearla.

Are you guys almost done? Y/n looks tired. Chris feels a bit bad, knowing how tired Y/n has been getting lately. We're finishing up our lunch but you guys can start coming back. He quickly types back. "She's on her way." Chris says out loud.

Finishing their food, Matt collects their trash and throws it out. "As much as we want to stay and see her reaction, we need to go home and shower and take a fat nap." Matt stretches, his shirt riding up a bit. "I agree, let me know when she gets home so I can call her." Nick grabs his tote bag off of the chair. "Alright, I'll see you guys in a few days." Chris says goodbye to them as they walk out the door, following behind so he can lock the door. "Bye!" They both say.

Chris quickly hops in the shower so he won't be a sweaty mess when Y/n gets home. From their bedroom, Chris throws his dirty clothes in the hamper and hears the front door opening. "Baby, I'm home." He hears Y/n's voice, followed by the door closing. "Hi, babe." He sees her once he exits the room.

"Missed you today." Chris kisses her and grabs the many bags she is holding. "Missed you more." She ruffles his wet hair. "Have you eaten already?" She asks, taking her purse off. "Yeah, I ate about thirty minutes ago. You? Have you eaten?" He places the bags down on the kitchen island.

"Yes, we went to that one cafe I love." She can drool on the spot just thinking about the croissant sandwich she had earlier. "Love that place. I have a surprise for you." He says as Y/n was grabbing one of the six bags to show him what she had bought. "Do you? My haul can wait, show me!" She says.

"No, no. Let me see what you bought first. I think some things can go with the surprise." He pushes the rest of the bags towards her. "Ugh, okay." She goes through with haul fairly quickly, trying to get the surprise faster.

"Here, let me bring these bags." Chris grabs the four bags that contain baby stuff. "Follow me this way." He nods his head towards the baby nursery. "Okay." Chris lets her go first. "Wait! Close your eyes." They stop in front of the door. "I'm nervous, did you do what I think you did?" She says happily, having an idea of what the surprise might be. "Maybe? Maybe not." He opens the door fully. "Okay, open 'em!" Y/n opens her eyes and gasps, Chris places the bags down near the door.

"Chris! You didn't! It's so pretty!" She squeals, looking around at the finished nursery. "You did all of this?" She turns back, wrapping her arms around his neck and his hands come to her waist. "I had some help from Matt and Nick. You like it?" He mumbles against her lips. "I love it, thank you, baby." She kisses him hard. "I hope you don't mind the things I changed around- well Nick did it." Y/n smiles. "It's perfect. I like the lamp better on the dresser than near the window."

"Oh! That's where you wanted it! I originally had it on the floor, but Nick yelled at me." They both laugh. "Seriously? The floor?" Chris rolls his eyes and tucks his head into her neck. "I know, I know! Sounds bad now that I think about it."

Y/n let's go of Chris and walks around the room. "Can we bring in the baby's clothes?" She asks Chris. "Of course we can. I waited for you so we can do that?" He stands behind her, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "Thank you, we'll just have to wash them before our baby is here." She rubs her belly that was growing everyday.

In their room, they grab all the bags of baby clothes they had bought and bring them to the room. Earlier, the triplets had stored all the boxes of diapers and wipes in the nursery closet. "Look at this one, it's so tiny!" Chris holds up a cream colored onesie. "Why are baby clothes so cute. I can't wait until she's here." Y/n smiles and pecks his lips. "Me either, can't wait for our little vacation though. Enjoy our time together until we're finally parents."

"We still need to pack for that." Y/n was cleared by her OB that she was okay to fly by the time their vacation came around. "I can't wait to go to Italy with you."