#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,

[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. 

[fastandcarlos]

Summer Break : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: with three weeks off to enjoy yourselves, you and max make the most of it adventuring together

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

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.

[barcaatthemoon]

casual || alexia putellas x reader ||

alexia reminds you that you don't have a relationship.

alexia pauses when she walks back into her bedroom to see you sitting up in her bed. a flurry of feelings bubble up inside of her that she shoves down as she moves towards you. you're usually gone by now, alexia can't remember the last time she had to actively kick you out. you've been sleeping together for almost three years now. alexia assumed that you had the routine down already.

"what are you still doing here? are you hurt or something?" you don't like the way that alexia is asking you these questions. it feels like an obligation, when all you wanted to do was rest. alexia had put you through the ringer, pushing you further than you had been pushed in a while. on top of that, you had just started your new exercise routine for the upcoming season.

"no, just tired."

"well, you aren't sleeping over," alexia told you. you narrowed your eyes at her tone, but didn't say anything. alexia rarely spoke to you like that outside of games or practice, so it definitely took you aback a bit.

"alexia, it's almost 2 in the morning," you whined. she didn't seem to budge an inch. she just stood there watching you gather your clothes up and get dressed. "i always let you stay when it's late. i know that i'd feel awful if something happened to you on your way home."

"that's nice, you're such a saint. wait, let me see if the pope will canonize you for your generous heart." alexia had never been so sassy with you before. it wasn't the most mature thing that you could have done, but you found yourself shoving her as you moved past her.

"that's not what i'm asking for. maybe i just want you not to act like such a dick when we're alone. we've been doing this for too long, alexia. i know that you care about me," you told her. alexia scoffed at this before bursting out into a fit of laughter.

"that's funny, really. i like your joke," alexia said as she continued to laugh. the sound usually brought a smile to your face, but now, it was vicious and cut deep.

"it's not a joke," you grumbled.

"don't you get it? you were always just entertainment for me. this isn't love, we aren't going to get married. i wouldn't even date you, not when i know all of the filthy things you'll let someone do to you for a bit of attention." you had never seen alexia get this mean before. there had been close calls, usually made up to you with a weekend getaway and special attention, but this felt different. "did you think i loved you or something?"

"fuck this," you muttered under your breath. you tried to turn away from alexia before she could see you cry, but it was too late.

"this is your own fault, babe. how could you be so foolish to think i ever loved you? like, really?" at this, you began to run out of alexia's as fast as you could. you didn't even bother to stop and get your keys, instead just walking as fast as you could towards the first person you could think to.

…

"nena, i wish that you would just tell me what happened," mapi said as she wrapped her arm around your shoulders. it had been nearly a week since you had stormed out of alexia's, and she hadn't once tried to contact you. in that time, you had spent every single night at your older sister maria's apartment.

it was difficult not letting her know what happened. alexia was mapi's best friend, and the fact that you had been sleeping together was a secret. you couldn't ruin your sister's strongest friendship by telling her that alexia was the one who had broken your heart like this, even if you wanted to watch alexia suffer.

"the girl i was seeing, we weren't on the same page. she didn't want the same things i did, so we went our separate ways," you told her. mapi sighed in disappointment, but continued to hold you close. "i just want to move on, that's all."

"i get that, but do you have to move on so far away?" mapi asked you. the loan offer to play in the nwsl was not a new one, but this time, it wasn't just a loan. they wanted you to play for the washington spirit when the next nwsl season started up. "your english isn't even that good."

"maria, i'm going. barcelona isn't the right place for me anymore, even though i love it here. i'm going to miss you and everybody, but i need to leave," you told her. mapi cleared her throat in an attempt to fight the lump forming in her throat, but she let you stick with your decision. you were just as stubborn as she could be, and if this was what you thought was right, you'd stick to your guns until the very end.

"you'd better visit as often as you can."

…

telling the team was hard. avoiding alexia's gaze during the announcement was harder. alexia was good at masking her emotions when it came to you, but this time, she slipped up. it was the tiniest deflation, but you noticed it. even worse, ingrid, and by proxy, mapi also noticed.

"(y/n), we need to talk." you hadn't expected alexia to approach you as the team cleared out. tensions had been kind of high between you over the past few weeks. everybody had noticed, but chalked it down to transfer rumors. barcelona was losing a lot of good players, ones that everybody knew helped with the chemistry and flow of things.

"actually, i think we all need to talk," mapi said, spooking the both of you. she grabbed onto the back of your neck, as well as alexia's. ingrid stood by the door to make sure nobody came in, but also stuck around to keep mapi from murdering alexia on the spot. "when were either of you planning on telling me that you were seeing each other?"

"we weren't seeing each other," you told your sister.

"bullshit, try again," mapi said. she glanced over at alexia, giving her the chance to fess up. "alexia, how long have you been dating my sister?"

"we were never dating, i swear. it was a casual hookup, that's all," alexia said. that may have been the truth, but it wasn't what mapi wanted to hear at all. the defender slammed her hands down on the table and grabbed onto the edges of it, knuckles white from the strength of her grip. "mapi, it didn't feel like anything to tell you."

"i asked you to look out for my baby sister when she made the choice to play here. was it some kind of sick revenge? if i had doen this to alba, what would you have done?" mapi asked. alexia paled as the thoughts ran wild inside of her brain. you had expected mapi to be pissed, but not calm about it.

"maria, i'm sorry," alexia apologized. mapi shoved the table forward as she jumped away from it. ingrid moved forward at this to offer some comfort for her girlfriend.

"i'm not who you need to apologize to! you broke (y/n)'s heart and now she's moving all the way to america! she's leaving, and i can't talk her out of it. i can't talk her out of it and ask her to stay here with you for another season. she's leaving, and i hate you for it." mapi fell into ingrid's grasp and broke down in tears.

"i think you should leave," ingrid said to alexia. your soon to be former captain practically sprinted out of the room. you sat there awkwardly as ingrid comforted mapi. you wanted to apologize for upsetting your sister, but you knew that it would only make mapi feel more guilt. both of you needed to feel your feelings, and as much as you wanted to be there for each other, it would have to be distanced.

[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

-

[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."

[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."

[vivwritesfics]

Fighting Fires

Fire seems to follow her everywhere. As does fire captain Carlos Sainz. Not that she minds

Warnings: Fire, Logan almost dying

Viv's AUgust Event

Her landlord had warned her about the alarm. "One bit of smoke," he'd said as he placed the keys into her palm, "and the alarm will go off. The firemen will be called and the building will be evacuated." He closed her fist around the keys. "Don't set it off."

For three months, she'd been careful. For three months she hadn't set off the fire alarm.

The toaster was broken. She knew it was broken, knew she had to pop the toast before it popped itself. Because it wouldn't pop itself, it would burst into flames. She shouldn't have put the toast down before went in the shower. Before she knew it, the fire alarm in her apartment building was ringing.

Rapped in her pink robe, with her narwhal slippers on her feet, she was rushed out of the building. Her legs shook from the cold as the firemen rushed inside.

That was when she remembered.

The toaster. Fuck.

The firefighters walked out of the building and called her apartment number. Embarrassment was written on her face as she approached them, looking at her feet instead of the stares of her fellow tenants.

"It was the toaster, wasn't it?" She asked as the firefighter pulled off his helmet. As the handsome firefighter pulled off his helmet. Even after running into an almost burning building, helmet on his head, his hair was still perfect. His brown eyes drew her in as he stared down at her.

But she wasn't ready for his voice, the way it wrapped around her when he spoke. "Your kitchen is ruined," he said. She stopped herself from shivering, and not from the cold. "Do you have anybody you can stay with while your landlord pays to get it fixed?"

She opened her mouth, but she didn't get a chance to respond. "Wait a moment, Sainz!" The landlord shouted as he strode towards them. "She set my building on fire! She can fucking pay for it!"

She didn't mean to cower. But it had been a long evening and it was her fault that the building nearly burnt down. She wanted nothing more than to lay on her floor and cry.

The firefighter looked down at her, sympathy written on his face. If the ground opened up and swallowed her whole, she would have been happy. But the firefighter turned to her landlord. "This isn't the first time we've been called out because of the toasters you've put in your apartments, Christian," he said, large hand settling on her back.

Her landlord backed down and the firefighter turned towards her again. "Have you got somebody you can stay with while he gets your kitchen fixed?"

She swallowed and nodded.

***

Fire was following her, she swore. She sat at her desk, tapping away at her computer when the fire alarm went off.

It had been a week and a half since the fire that wrecked her kitchen. Her best friend Logan had insisted that she stay with him. He picked her up and took her back to his house, giving her the couch to sleep on (reluctantly giving her the couch to sleep on. Logan had insisted she take his bed, but she declined. It went back and forth until Logan gave in).

And now the fire alarm was going off in her office. She stood with the rest of her co-workers and followed them out to the car park. Other businesses on other floors of the building grumbled as they made their way outside.

"What is it this time?" The guy from the paper company from the floor below asked.

She crossed her arms over her chest as she looked up at the building. "It wasn't one of your guys, was it?" She asked with a little laugh.

He laughed right back. "I don't think so," he replied and nudged her with his elbow. "One of yours?"

"I hope not."

When the sirens sounded, everybody turned towards the entrance of the car park. The fire engine pulled in and everybody stepped back as the fire fighters climbed off of the truck and made their way inside of the building.

"We had a small fire at my apartment two weeks ago," she said to the guy from the paper company as they waited for the firemen to do their things. Was fire captain Sainz in there? God, she hoped so.

The guy from the paper company let out a laugh. "You're just a bit of bad luck, aren't you?" He asked jokingly and she gave a nod.

The firefighters emerged from the building. Just as when they'd put out the fire in her building, the fire captain pulled off his helmet. Perfect hair, pretty brown eyes and soft, pillowy lips. Fire captain Sainz addressed the crowd before his eyes landed on her.

His eyebrows went up, but he finished what he was saying before he approached her.

Helmet tucked under his arm, he strode over to her. Fire captain Sainz looked all kinds of sexy as he walked up to her, grinning. "You again?" He asked as he looked down at her.

She could have melted beneath the warmth of his gaze. "Trust me, it wasn't my fault this time. At least, I don't think it was my fault," she said, head tipping to the side slightly.

"Did you use the microwave on the top floor?"

Her eyes bulged slightly and she released a laugh. "The microwave finally gave out? I should have known," she mumbled and shook her head. "No, but this time it wasn't me."

Paper company guy stepped back, but neither of them noticed. "I wouldn't mind putting out your fires," he said and adjusted his helmet in his grip.

Her heart was beating so erratically as she looked at him. He was flirting, that was definite. She just wasn't sure how to flirt back. Instead, she gestured towards helmet. "Can I try it on?" She asked and Carlos placed the helmet in her hands.

***

Logan insisted that they go out for drinks. "Just let loose," he had said, and she agreed. She got dressed into her favourite skirt and a top to match.

She and Logan walked arm in arm into the bar. It was busy, music loud and atmosphere lively. They sat opposite each other in a booth and Logan got up for the first round of drinks.

It had been so long since she and Logan had gone out for drinks together. Her hands tapped against her thighs as she looked around. Surely they knew some people here, old school friends they'd lost touch with as their adult lives began.

Logan sat down and placed a colourful cocktail in front of her. "What is it?" She asked as she picked it up and smelt the liquer inside.

"It's called a tropical smash," Logan said as he sipped his own drink.

She lifted it to her lips and sipped. It was delicious, didn't taste like it contained alcohol.

She had a second before the face of the handsome fire captain came into view. She was stumbling slightly as she approached the bar, not having yet spotted the handsome fire captain.

But a large, warm hand settled on her waist, steadying her. "Woah there, Arrancadora de fuego," he said with a deep chuckle.

She turned to face him, eyes going wide at the sight of him. His button up shirt wasn't all the way buttoned and his sleeves were rolled up. He looked damn good.

"Captain Carlos!" She called and threw her arms around him. "You look hot!"

He laughed, but he didn't take his hands off of her. "Have you had a few drinks, by any chance?" He asked as he brought his hands to settle on her waist.

"Do you wanna dance with me?" She asked as she leaned back in his hold, arms still around his neck.

Maybe it was his saviour complex, maybe it was because it was her, but Carlos couldn't say no. He led her to the dance floor, made up of only a few people, and followed her movements.

Dancing didn't come naturally to Carlos. He was stiff, and that had her frowning. So, she grabbed his hips and moved him with her. Loosened him up until he was moving fluidly against her.

Logan and drinks were forgotten about as she stared into Carlos's eyes. She could have kissed him, could have pressed her lips against his own and enjoyed the moment. He was leaning in, wasn't he?

But then his phone rang. He pulled away from her to answer it, pushing through the crowds of people to get outside.

***

(Note: this is not a reflection of real people)

Logan's girlfriend was a little bit... ditsy. Forgetful. Like leaving the freezer door open, leaving television on and forgetting to turn off her hair straighteners before she went to work.

Logan had no idea. His temporary roommate had no idea. They were sitting there, watching television as the straighteners sat on a cushion. Stretching, Logan yawned. "I'm heading to the bathroom," he said and stood up.

The fire alarm went off while Logan was in the bathroom. She switched off the television and stood up. "I'll see you outside, Logan!" She called and headed out of the apartment they were currently sharing.

The rest of the tenants were outside. It was mindless chatter that she joined in with while she waited for Logan. He was on his way, she knew.

But then those around her started gasping. She turned towards the apartment building and looked up.

That was Logan's bedroom window. An orange glow came from inside, a fire. "Logan!" She called desperately as she searched for him. He had to be outside.

But he wasn't. "Fuck," she hissed. The sirens of the fire engine in the distance, but there was no way for them to get there in time. Not with Logan still inside. "Fuck," she hissed again. It would be so easy to just run inside and get him out. "Fuck."

She ran forward, pulled open the doors of the building and headed inside. The elevator was out, shut down the moment the fire alarm went off. Taking the stairs two at a time, she headed up to Logan's floor. The fire engines were much closer now. If she had time to look out of the window she would have seen them parking up and climbing out.

One of Logan's older neighbours grabbed a hold of fire captain Sainz's arm. "Please!" She cried. "She just ran inside!"

Carlos remained calm as he spoke to the old woman. She gave the name of the girl that ran inside and Carlos felt the blood drain from his face. He knew that name, knew that girl. Of course she would be here. "We'll get her out safely, ma'am," he said and headed inside.

Smoke filled the corridor as she entered her floor. She coughed and held her elbow over her nose and mouth as she headed towards Logan's front door. "Logan!" She shouted and pushed her key into the lock.

It was so damn hot when she pushed open the door. Fuck, this was a mistake. "Logan!" She shouted again. "Are you in here?!"

There was a muffled noise from the bathroom. Dropping to her knees she crawled over to the bathroom door. Her eyes stung, throat burned as she reached up for the door handle.

Suddenly a hand was on her shoulder. It pulled her back, pulled her into a strong chest. "He's in there!" She cried and tried to push away from the chest. "Get him out, please!"

Strong arms picked her up, held her head against his chest so she was breathing nothing but him as he got her outside. Other firefighters were rushing about around them, putting out the fire and getting Logan out. But she wasn't aware of any of it as the fire captain carried her outside and placed her on the ground.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" He shouted as he pulled off his mask.

Fury was written across his face as he stared down at her. She let out a cough and folded her arms over her chest. "Logan was still in there," she said as she looked at her shoes. "He could have died."

"We would have gotten him out! You could have died going in there!"

Tears stung at her eyes. A mixture of smoke inhalation and humiliation. Suddenly his fingers were on her chin, tipping her face towards him. "You had me scared, cariño. When your neighbour told me that you ran in there..."

She leaned forward to kiss him, something she should have done that night in the bar. Carlos wrapped his arms around her and held her close. "I'm sorry," she whispered against his lips.

Carlos settled her back on her feet. "Never do something like that to me again," he said, his forehead against hers.

"Never again," she whispered and kissed him again. "But shouldn't you be helping your men stop my best friends apartment from burning down?"

He looked towards the building. The fire had died down and they'd gotten Logan out, but he still had a job to do. "Wait here," he said and kissed the top of her head.

Pulling his mask back over his face, he ran inside.

Her hero.

[wtfsteveharrington]

c l o s e t o y o u | carmen berzatto x reader

we've got so much history baby

description: set months after your breakup, you and carmen navigate what it means to be separated. you're trying to move on but waves always return to the ocean.

warnings: kinda angsty but also hurt/comfort. mutual pining even tho you're both trying to pretend it isn't there. miscommunication. kinda mentions of cheating if you squint but not really. no one has cheated but what to call this vibe irdk so! also mentions of using the bathroom if that bothers you!! it's quick!

smut warnings: oral/fingering reader receiving, spanking, dirty talk, hints of dom!carmy, unprotected sex but backshots for 'safety', sexting, semi public sex, lots of hickies/bruises talk bc carmy's a lil shit, multiple mentions of masturbation for both, reader has a drunk bar make out phase post breakup. reader is afab but no major descriptors used.

word count: almost 9.2k. the longest thing i've written so far!

a/n: dare i say this might be my favorite thing i've written possibly. aiming to make this a three part series but possibly could go longer.... i hope you enjoy <3

maybe you and i were meant to be / maybe i'm crazy

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Carmen’s eyes are trained on you from the second your front door opens. His hands stalled halfway through taking off his jacket, only one shoe clattering across your entryway. 

“Where’ve you been tonight?” 

Which you have no choice but to shoot him a warning glance in response. It was late, you didn’t have the energy for a fight and that’s the complete opposite reason of why you texted him to come over. “I was on a date, Carmen.” 

He physically deflated at your answer. “Oh.”

You can’t meet his eye, can’t risk seeing his reaction. Would he be upset? Indifferent? It’s hard to decide which would be worse.

When you had broken up a few months ago the roles were clear - A case of ‘right person, wrong time’. He was busy, so endlessly busy. Working late into the night and heading in randomly during the morning or afternoon if he was needed. Which he could easily decide he was.

For as long as you could remember Carmen always took Tuesdays off to spend with you and get life in order. That way he had Monday to help the restaurant recover from the weekend and could trust them to handle what was, usually, an easier day. It was a tradition you took seriously and the two of you regularly made plans together every single Tuesday. Date nights, day trips, a mixture of adventures. It didn't matter what you were doing together so long as you had Tuesday to look forward to and help get you through the week.

Yet things started picking up. More celebrity dining requests, more magazine and tv interviews, more, more, more.

And it wasn’t that you misunderstood how important the restaurant was. Far from it. There were many nights where Carmen would come home a ball of anxiety because it took an hour longer than he anticipated and he knew it wasn’t fair to you. There would be a mess of apologies as he barreled in the door, bracing himself for a fight or to see your disappointed face. All of which you happily soothed by repeating constant mantras - The restaurant was his baby; you weren’t upset; take a deep breath; we’re okay. 

Then eventually you stopped saying you weren’t upset, stopped saying you two were okay. Eventually you stopped waiting up for him at all. At first Carmen would shower and climb into bed, confused if he should attempt to hold you or not. Your sleeping (Fine, sometimes you faked being asleep too) frame with your back turned to him. The blankets pulled tight around your body acting like a shield. 

Finally he just started sleeping on the couch. 

So yeah, the fall apart came quick. It was an avalanche neither of you could control nor did either of you want. There was still love between the two of you - But again it’s the right person, wrong time. 

You avoided each other for the following weeks. Carmen threw himself even more into work and you took a week of PTO to go visit one of your friends. He wondered if you were safe, you wondered why none of the people in the bar tasted the way he did. Your friend encouraged you with every sloppy make out conquest but it always ended there. You wanted to get Carmen out of your mind but weren’t ready for him to not be the last person who fully touched you. 

It didn’t work but does it ever?

Carmen watched your Insta far more than he should have. Risking way too many glances down at his phone during his free time to see if there were any updates about how you were doing. As if you’d post photos with long captions that mimicked a therapy session but he didn’t know where else to go. Sydney would report back what your story shows no matter how much Carm insisted he didn’t care. 

Because he didn’t, okay? He was fine. He knew it was for the best. Right? 

And then you posted a photo of yourself in a low cut top laughing in a bookstore. He zoomed in to see what titles you had in your arms as if they were clues and his eyes definitely didn’t linger on the swell of your cleavage. He didn’t think about how many nights he took for granted watching as your back arched up under him and you begged for more. He didn’t think about the way you’d crawl into bed at night and his mind would instantly rid itself of anything but you. He didn’t jack off to memories of you in the shower every morning because thinking about someone else, watching porn of other people, it didn’t feel wrong. No, that wasn’t the case at all. 

You, on the other hand, turned on Google alerts for anything relating to The Bear or Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto. Most of it was just good Yelp! ratings or fluff pieces from the local papers. He wasn’t one for posting on social media, in fact you weren’t sure he used it at all but you still posted like he was, but sometimes you’d find yourself scrolling through Sydney’s feed to see if she was giving you any crumbs. Sometimes, if you were really desperate, you’d find yourself in Richie’s feed even. It was pathetic but you can’t help it. 

One late night you came across an Instagram story post Sydney had up. Carmen leaning against a pinball machine at some gaming bar downtown. His hair was pushed back, eyes crinkled up with laughter. He looked at ease, peaceful. You wondered if anyone there felt the same… Was someone whispering to their friends and trying to build the encouragement up to go talk to him? Would he respond? 

Right, it wasn’t your place to care anymore. Yet you still cried yourself to sleep and yearned for when things felt so much easier. 

Yeah, the breakup wasn’t exactly going well. 

A few weeks ago you came across Carmen at the grocery store of all places. Both of you had gotten so used to doing the shopping Tuesday mornings and, logically, you were both comfortable going to the location just like you had been weekly for months. Your breath caught in your throat and God he looked better than you remembered. The first thing out of his mouth was, “Great sale on gouda this week.” And the only thing your brain could conjure up was, “Well that’s gouda.”

You both stayed silent for a moment before bursting out in laughter. 

Laughter turned to getting lunch around the corner. 

Lunch turned into you straddling Carmen’s waist in the car while parked in the very back corner of the parking lot and riding him until your eyes watered and you couldn’t focus long enough to keep a rhythm. He wrapped his arms, such strong arms, around your waist and fucked up into you for all that he was worth. Trying to prove himself in whatever capacity you allowed. 

If he couldn’t love you like he wanted, he could at least fuck you better than anyone else would.

Once you two broke the seal of seeing each other it was hard to stop. There was almost a forbidden aspect to your relationship now that caused a small thrill to run down your spine every time you saw him late at night. You were pretty sure no one knew you started… Seeing each other again and you were both content keeping it a secret. 

So that’s how you ended up here. Standing across from him at 11 o’clock at night on a random Wednesday. You try not to wonder if he left ‘early’ the second you reached out, instead convincing yourself that it just so happened to work out he was ready to go within minutes of you sending your ‘My place tonight?’ text during this horrific blind date your co-worker set up. 

Jonathan, 6’1, finance major turned CPA for his family’s company. He was… Fine. Just fine. You left on good terms in case you wanted to call on him for back up one lonely night. The problem was no one else was Carmen no matter how hard you tried to look for him in the people that passed by.

And there he stood across from you with hair falling into his face and his eyes looking up at you like you’re crafted from Heaven. A skirt, thin tinted tights, a shirt that exposed just enough skin but not too much. The soft shimmer across your eyelids and glossy lips from the lip balm you’ve been continuously applying since you knew he was on the way. The last time he saw you like this was when you were fighting because Carmen accidentally showed up 15 minutes past when you were supposed to leave for a birthday party at your friend’s house and that night ended with you locking him out of the bedroom while he had to pretend he couldn’t hear you crying in the next room. He really didn’t mean to be late. Sometimes the nights just got taken away from him. 

Carmen hated that you were dressed up for someone else but he pretends you just threw this on for him.

Your arms cross your chest, totally not attempting to push up your breasts, and you let out a sigh while you stare at Carmen. “This has to be the last time.” His face is stoic, a perfect poker face. The last time? Break up or not he couldn’t imagine there being a last time he saw you. Half the time he forgets, still referring to you as his partner while brushing it off and refusing to correct himself. Then there’s times where he comes home to his empty apartment and realizes you weren’t there to light the long forgotten candles on the coffee table or open up the windows to air the place out. 

He closes the space between the two of you and stares at your face. Searching for answers he’s too scared to ask for. Your resolve is breaking, cracking under the weight of having him so close. Beautiful eyes staring at you, the way he smells like the cologne you bought for your last anniversary and clean laundry. If you weren’t so drunk on the sight of him you would have put it together that Carmen kept clean clothes at the Bear to make sure he could change before he came to see you. 

You’re both silent for a moment before there’s two hands wrapping around either side of your neck and Carmen’s dragging you two together for a kiss. God, he couldn’t stand the idea of someone else kissing you. Would they even do it right? Do they know the way you moan when he licks into your mouth or the way you always grab ahold of his wrists when he cups your face? Do they know the way you forget to breathe sometimes when you’re lost in it? He’d have to pull back in order to give you a second to gasp in a rush of air. Does whoever you were with tonight know any of that? 

You pull away from Carmen with a broken out moan, silva connecting your mouths and the faint taste of cigarettes on your tongue from him. Clamping your hands on his shoulders you just faintly push the two of you apart, trying desperately to collect your thoughts. Carmen crying during the break up, sobbing in your bed, living on autopilot for weeks, the way he kisses you like he’s scared it’s the last time anymore because it very well just might be. Everything coming back to you in flashes as he stands before you once again. 

“I called you here for a reason, Carm.” His eyebrow is cocked, eyes flickering down to the bulge in his jeans that started growing the second he kissed you. “Uh - Yeah? Isn’t that what… I thought that’s what we were doing?” Carmen’s leaning in again, letting his lips connect to your neck. Warm kisses being pressed in a path up to just below your ear. “No uh, oh, remember how you let me keep the cast iron?” He hums in response, teeth nipping at your earlobe while broad hands start grabbing at your waist. “Yeah, uh huh, the cast iron skillet.” Fuck the stupid cast iron. He’s much more concerned with hooking fingers in the waistband of your skirt, attempting to pull it down while you’re fighting to stay focused. 

“Well my friends came over the other night and oh Jesus.” He’s licking a strip up your neck now, only half focused on your story. “Carm, please, they were helping me clean up and someone left it soaking in hot water overnight.” That’s finally got him freezing in place, his aroused little sounds quickly turning into a groan of annoyance. “Fuck. That ruined-… I mean, the seasoning has to be ruined. Assuming it rusted?” You nod helpless, fingers dragging along his chest while Carmen stares over your shoulder.

His eye twitches involuntarily. 

There’s a deep sigh coming from his body as he steps around you, finally kicking off his long forgotten second shoe before walking further into the apartment to head towards the kitchen. 

And listen, it wasn’t that you were necessarily concerned so much with the pan. Sure the two of you had purchased it together during the first few weeks of talking. Carmen cooked breakfast with it every Tuesday morning and showed you how to care for this damn pan. It was the closest you two came to owning a pet just… In the form of a nine inch cast iron skillet. You were more curious if he would care. A simple way of testing the waters to see if he just cared about getting laid or still cared about you. The answer should have been obvious but you still had to know.

You follow behind him and wince at the stream of expletives that easily fall from his tongue at the sight of the pan in the sink. It wasn’t horrible but wasn’t ideal. “Y’know, crazy thing is I’m pretty sure I can guess who did this. They kept trying to convince me cast iron wasn’t any different from a standard pan no matter how many times I tried convincing them that just wasn’t the case.” He’s grumbling to himself while crouching down to fish out supplies from under the sink, easily navigating your apartment from memory. The two of you had bounced between your places and talked about moving in together once his lease was up. Going as far as touring a few locations but the conversation was long forgotten once the tensions started building. 

As much as Carmen claims he didn’t see it coming, he resigned his lease almost two weeks before the break up officially happened. 

You hop up onto the counter next to the sink and watch as Carmen gets to work restoring your pan. “Think it's gonna make it through? I can't believe this is how it might end for the poor thing. All because I wanted to make your chicken piccata.” A few of his recipes had stuck with you and sometimes you find yourself making them when you’re missing him extra at night. 

“Nah, it’ll be fine. Just some surface damage s’all.” You watch as the muscles in Carmen’s arm move with the scrubbing motion, your lips itching to kiss over every exposed tattoo. Snap out of it! This is just sex between two consenting adults trying to let off some steam. That’s all. You’re both just comfortable and it would take way too much effort for someone random like Jonathan to learn what you like. 

Carmen catches you staring at him, not that you were being subtle about it, and feels heat blooming in his chest. He grabs one of your kitchen towels and gives the skillet a good pat down before sitting it upside down to dry off. It’s not perfect, not yet at least, but he’s pretty sure he’ll explode if it takes any longer to finally get his hands on you. 

“You look pretty tonight.” He’s coming to stand between your knees, reaching up to you with the hem of your skirt as you hum out a small “Thank you.” It seems like every time you see him lately you forget just how blue his eyes are. So easy to get lost in them especially from this close. Your hands come up to gently trace the features of his face. Just the ghost of a touch but Carmen’s soaking up the affection. He tilts his head in order to press a kiss to your palm. 

His hands are dragging up your thighs, feeling the material of your tights under his touch. “Know how much you hate wearing these.” Your heartbeat is picking up so much it’s making you jittery, hands wrapping around the edge of the countertop to grip it as hard as you can. Keeping yourself steady. “Help me take ‘em off?” You arch your hips up off the counter as an invitation for Carmen. He’s wasting no time grabbing ahold of the waistband and dragging them down your body, groaning to himself as inch by inch your skin gets exposed to him. 

Neither of you miss the way you press your thighs together once they’re freed, hips twitching in anticipation. The tights are getting tossed across your apartment and left to be tomorrow’s problem. Carmen falls to his knees in front of you, letting them dig into the harsh tile of your kitchen while in pursuit of making his mark on you. He’s grabbing ahold of your ankles, bringing one of your legs over his shoulder while the other is brought up to his lips. 

Your eyes fall closed as Carmen starts trailing a string of delicate kisses along the length of your calf. His lips ghosting across your knee until he reaches the fleshy part of your thigh. While your hands finally escape the countertop and find their way laced into Carmen’s hair, he wraps his lips down against your thigh to start sucking a small bruise into your skin. “Carmy,” You hiss out, “What if I see Jonathan again? How am I gonna explain these?” But you’re not pulling his head away, instead doing quite the opposite by keeping his head in place. 

Carmen practically growls against your skin, a low and guttural sound coming from the man. His grip on you tights while he mumbles against you, “Fuck Jonathan.” You scrub your fingers against his scalp as Carmen finds another patch of skin on the opposite thigh to begin sucking a bruise into. His head ducking lower and lower under your skirt, the material finally getting you to pull your hands away from him.

Against all better judgment your thighs fall more open as he works his way down your thighs. There’s a series of small moans and whimpers coming out of you with no control as he reaches the top of your thigh, his nose dragging along the cloth covering your core. “D’you wear these for him? Or did you put them on knowing you’d end up texting me.” It’s impossible to answer when you feel his tongue drag along you, your hips rocking up towards his mouth. He’s bringing his hands up under your skirt now too and grabbing handfuls of where your thighs meet your hips to hold you down in place. 

“They’re purple, aren’t they?” A color Carmen had long ago decided he liked best on you. Something about the way the color compliments your skin… In all honesty, you were pretty sure he had purchased the exact pair you were wearing. You started the night with no intention of your date getting anywhere near your bed but instead being under the frame of the man who was exactly where you wanted him. 

He guides you to scoot you closer towards the edge of the counter, making sure you’re comfortable before mouthing over you once again. Hot, open mouth kisses being pressed almost exactly where you need them. One of his hands comes around your frame to grab a handful of the fleshy part of your ass while the other hooks a finger into your underwear, pulling the material to the side to expose you. 

There’s cool air being blown against your overheated body and your hands fly back to clutch at his back, his neck, the hair that’s exposed from under your skirt. Whatever inch of him you can find is being clung to like a lifeboat. He’s kissing the skin where your thigh meets your center, lips ghosting along the outer side of your folds. It only takes a few more pathetic whimpers before he finally takes pity on you and you feel his tongue go flat at the base of your hole, dragging up long and slow all the way to your clit. 

He groans into your core and the vibrations make you start to lose your mind. “Fuck. Fuck!” Carmen’s got your clit between his lips now, bobbing his head just slightly while he goes right to sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves. If you didn’t want to be teased then he’d give you everything you wanted. One of his hands comes up under his chin now, a finger pressing into your tight entrance as his tongue works to lap at your clit, your folds, even dipping into you whenever his finger pulls all the way out.

A second finger slides into you while his attention focuses back to making out with your clit. You can’t keep track of the way he alternates between kissing and licking at you while his fingers push in as deep as he can get them. “So good, Baby.” Baby. It comes out of you by force of habit and it makes him twitch in his boxes. If you weren’t so drunk on him you probably would have started overthinking but he’s making sure your focus is on nothing else but his mouth for now. Carmen’s chin is slick with everything you’re giving him as he eats you out as if he’s a dying man and this is his last source of solace in the world.

“C’mon Honey.” He’s cooing against you, fingers crooked just how he knows you like it. There’s sloppy licks being delivered to your clit as his fingers pump in and out. His hand finally leaves it’s grip on your ass to apply a gentle pressure to the top of your mound, pressing down against the flesh to add yet another sensation. “Can feel how tight you’re getting. You wanna come for me so bad, don’t you? Be good for me.” 

Your hands fist around Carmen’s hair, hips rocking up against him and it doesn’t take long for an orgasm to wash over your body. You seize up at the feeling, thighs clamping around Carmen’s head as he licks you through it. He’s only giving you a moment to recover when you feel his fingers slide out of your sensitive body and he can’t help but go back to licking out the mess you’ve made.

“Gonna fuckin’ kill me, Carmen.”

He’s smirking against you but taking the hint. Your thighs shaking as he pulls back from under your skirt, taking a moment to appreciate the handiwork that was the bruises covering your thighs while you take a moment to recover. The way your pussy looks so pretty covered in the mixture of your arousal and his spit. Carmen can’t help himself but to swirl his thumb around your clit, your hips jolting up as you reach out to grab ahold of his wrist. “Need a minute please.” 

Carmen nods and stands up, wasting no time making work of unbuckling his belt. You collect your thoughts well enough to start unbuttoning his jeans for him, letting your fingers linger on his jean clad hardened length. “You, uh -” You won’t meet his eye, opting instead to start pulling his pants down his toned thighs. “You still okay not using a condom?” A roundabout way of saying ‘I’m clean, are you?’. Carmen nods as if it’s the most insane question in the world. Even if he’s not with you anymore, it’s still only you for him for as long as he can see coming. “No one but you.”

You can’t meet his eye, a wave of guilt washing over you concerning your earlier date with Jonanthan that quickly gets pushed away when Carmy grabs ahold of your jaw and brings you in for a haphazard kiss. Mindless, heavenly kissing. The two of you getting lost in the way your tongues know just how to navigate one another while your hand slides into his boxes and begins lazily 

“Gotta fuck you or I’m gonna cum on your hand like a fuckin’ teenager.” You giggle into his mouth but slide yourself off the counter nonetheless. Giving him one more tender kiss before turning around to bend yourself over the counter. It’s not the most gracious process but you’re tugging your shirt over your head on the way down, pitching it somewhere else to deal with later. 

He’s looking at every inch of you. Underwear still pulled to the side, the way the lace of your bra looks against your back. Memorizing every detail he possibly can just in case you wise up and stop letting him come over to defile you like this at night. 

Carmen is dragging the head of his cock through your folds, tapping it against your clit while you whine and rut back against him. The weight of his jeans and belt resting heavy against his ankles and keeping him grounded enough to not spill his load before he even makes it inside of you. You weren’t used to taking him all the time anymore, a thought Carmen can’t dwell on, so he goes inch by inch and gives you time to adjust to the girth of him. He was thicker than anyone you’d been with before and every random hookup together lately reminds you of the first time you felt him stretch you out. 

It burns in the best way possible and he’s so tender while you get adjusted. Waiting until you start fucking yourself against his length to take that as his sign you were finally ready for him. Carmen still starts slow, a teasing pace of pulling himself nearly all the way out before sinking right back in. “Pussy’s like heaven.” It makes you oddly proud to hear him call that out. To know you still have an affect on him after all this time.

“Think about fuckin’ you all the time.” He’s picking up speed now, “Think about how good you feel stretched around me. Such a good slut for me, aren’t you? Bending over and practically begging for it.” His words, once again, make your head spin. It was a common theme with Carmen. Your fingers lace in your own hair, desperate to grab ahold of something. “Always wanting you to fuck me, Carm. Dream about how good you make me feel.” Like you two were meant to fit together perfectly. 

There’s a lewd clapping noise coming from the way your ass smacks against his frame with each deep thrust. Eventually your arms give out, torso falling flat against the shockingly still cool countertop while Carmen fucks into you for all he’s worth. A firm slap is being delivered to your ass that causes you to yelp out, rolling your hips back against him at the same time as an act of encouragement. 

His mind is taken up with how good you feel. You’re perfectly stretched around him and leaking out around his base. So wet, so beautiful, so perfect. There’s a hand sliding up your back until it’s fisting around your hair, gently tugging at it and the new sensation has these pornstar worthy moans escaping you. Your loud and needy brain is completely empty as Carmen destroys you the way he knows how. 

“D’you think about me fucking you while you were sitting across from some asshole all night? Poor little pussy almost got fucked by someone who doesn’t know how to treat it.” His words are so casually spoken with just the right amount of bite that it’s causing your brain to melt. Jonathan didn’t stand a chance of getting within two feet of your panties, just another mindless date in your series of attempted ways to ‘get over Carmen’ which clearly wasn’t going well. He bottoms out in you, every inch of his length pressed as firmly as he can into your core. It’s so much, so full and he’s got you pinned in place. Unable to do anything but be used by him, just how you both know you love to be. “Or did you go just to make me jealous? Put on your slutty little panties and went to dinner knowing you’d text me to come fuck you tonight.” 

He’s grinding his hips into you on the impossible quest to get even deeper. It’s possessive, claiming, and you’d probably even be a little annoyed by his behavior if you were in a better state of mind. For now you’re bent over the counter with bruises blooming all over your thighs and enjoying an odd jealous streak coming from someone who, technically, has no right to be jealous. It’s making you feel dizzy and your heart throb and your pussy clenching around him. “You gonna keep talking or you gonna fuck me, Carm? ‘Cause if not I’ll call him to finish the job.” 

You liked riling him up. 

Another sharp smack is being dealt to your ass when Carmen starts to pick the pace back up. His hands are tight on your hips and his pace is brutal. There’s grunts coming from behind you that are making your head spin and if you were more coherent you’d be a bit more embarrassed about the drool sliding from the corner of your mouth as your boyfrie-….. Well, as Carmen takes care of you. He’s admiring the bloom of his handprint on your skin, brushing his hand along it before pressing firmly down to help soothe the buzzing sting of pain. 

He wasn’t fucking you as often, didn’t have you nearly as well trained anymore. These bi-weekly meetings are not doing nearly enough for your body. He used to be able to fuck you right through an orgasm and you’d keep going. So used to him working your oversensitive clit to his liking. Now you whine while grabbing his wrist and whimper out pleas for him to give you a few minutes. He hates not knowing your body as well as he used to even if he still knows you pretty damn well.

So when he feels you getting closer, he’s taking note. Keeping his pace exactly the same and letting his hand crash down against the tender flesh of your ass again. “You gonna give me another? C’mon, Honey. Can feel how bad you need it.” And you do. God you need every orgasm you’re lucky enough to get from him. 

Your hips buck and twitch and you let out a series of uncontrolled moans as your orgasm starts to wash over your body. If Carmen wasn’t between your legs then your thighs would have snapped shut while your toes curled and your heart started beating faster. You could practically hear it beating in your own ears. “S’good, so good. Thank you, thank you. Shit, thank you.” A mess but you couldn’t judge yourself. 

Carmen’s pulling out when he’s close after just a few more strokes, frantically jerking off his length to keep the sensation going. You’re rolling your hips back and riding out the waves of your own orgasm, glancing back over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of Carmen with his head tossed back and brows knitted together in concentration. “Come on me, Baby. Wanna feel every drip on my skin. Maybe I’ll let you take a picture of it dripping down all the pretty bruises you gave me.” 

That’s all it takes for him to come undone. Warm spurts of cum landing along your back, your thighs, some of it dripping down your folds. The feeling is pulling wanton moans from your mouth that send Carmen into orbit. God, he doesn’t want to come back down to Earth. Collecting his breath and trying to keep himself upright while the aftershocks of his orgasm wrack through his body. How was he supposed to stay away from you when it felt like this? Especially when you just kept calling him baby.

He stopped cumming inside of you since the breakup. It made sense, kinda. But you hated it. Felt like a waste even though you wouldn’t overstep and ask for him to go back to finishing inside of you. He would, by the way. Without a second thought he’d bury himself in until he couldn’t go any further and fuck his cum into you as deep as possible. 

You feel a finger swiping up some of his cum off your backside and soon enough it’s pressed to your lips. Without a second thought you take the digit into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it while licking him clean. He wants some of it inside of you one way or another. A subtle way of still putting his claim on you.

The two of you take a moment to recover after Carmen pops his finger out of your mouth. His hands are running a circuit up and down the side of your thighs and torso, still enjoying the view of your body relaxed against the counter in front of him. The tile was starting to become painful as your stomach bent over it but you couldn’t bring yourself to move just yet. You didn’t fully trust your legs to support your weight without the counter for support. 

Carmen’s rustling around behind you now. Reaching down to pull up just his boxes but kick his jeans the rest of the way off finally. He’s not ready for the stimulation of such a heavy material against his sensitive skin yet. There’s a clattering from the sink area as he retrieves another towel to get wet for you and a cup to fill with water. Your eyes feel heavy. Mind’s at ease having Carmen around again, not that you’ll admit it, and your body feeling languid after being fucked so well. 

There’s a glass of water being sat in front of you. “Drink.” So you prop yourself up on your elbows and nurse small sips of the water while the cool rag gets to work wiping down your backside from the mess he made. His fingers ghost along the tender flesh of your ass where he was spanking, “Feeling alright?” You hum into the cup, giving him a small waggle of your behind to reassure any concerns he had. 

He gets you cleaned up in silence, letting the both of you enjoy the simple moment. Carmen always prided himself on taking care of you. There’s warm hands, still damp from cleaning you up, rubbing up the sides of your torso before wrapping around the tops of your shoulders. His hips rub along your backside and you just feel so warm, so safe like this. “We gotta get you to bed.”

You just sigh and scrub your hands over your face. A beat of silence passes while you collect your thoughts. “Carm, I don’t think I can stand up.” Your legs are still slightly shaking and your mind has yet to catch up with your body. 

Laughter’s coming from behind you as he delivers a playful swat to your ass. “C’mon I’ll get you there.” This feels so simple. You find yourself questioning why the two of you even broke up to begin with when the good moments were this good. Easy, content, safe. Would you ever be able to find this again? Would he? 

He’s grabbing ahold of your waist while pulling you back into his chest. Your head falls back against his shoulder and Carmen allows his lips to once again find your exposed neck. A series of gentle kisses being placed as his arms snake tighter around your body. “Still feeling okay?” You let out a content hum and allow yourself to be held by him. “Feel better than I have all week. Thank you, Carm.” You feel him smile against your skin as he places another delicate kiss. “Always.”

The two of you stay intertwined until Carmen starts to encourage the shuffle towards your bedroom. He makes sure you get cleaned up and ready for bed. Brings you one of your sleep shirts while you brush your teeth and tries to not overthink when you offer him a toothbrush of his own because you just so happened to have an extra. Gives you privacy when you complain about needing to pee and you find it odd there’s a tug at your chest when he ducked out of the room. Part of you hated being that couple who left the door open or used the restroom while the other showered, yadda yadda. It was a sign of comfort and the door being pulled shut behind Carmen was a sign that comfort was long gone. 

Not that you cared. Totally didn’t care at all. 

He’s going to just tuck you in at first until you’re clutching at his frame and pulling him into bed next to you. Carmen never could say no when it came to you, especially when he feels his back sinking into your soft bed and your warm body curling up along his side. He should go. Get home before it’s too late and try to get some sleep. He’s already planning on getting to work early to avoid having too much free time to think about tonight in detail. 

But his clothes feel so far away and the long day is starting to finally hit him. You can practically hear him thinking over his options and your breathing starts skipping as you feel him begin to pull away. 

“Carmen.” Your grip on his chest tightens and it pulls directly at his heart. Since this whole… Situation started he never stayed the night when your meetings would run this late. Always picking his clothes up out of piles on the floor and mumbling something about needing to get home to get stuff together from work. You never asked him to stay anyway. Neither of you knew if that would make an already weird and complicated situation even worse. 

But tonight was different. 

There were hints of a storm in the distance you start telling yourself. If you focused you could hear thunder, somewhere, out there and you just wanted Carmen safe for his sake. That’s all. So you pathetically cling to him and hope you don’t kick yourself out of embarrassment in the morning. It takes just a moment of him looking down at you to understand what you can’t say and he’s giving you a little nod in response. His arms wrap around your shoulders, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of your head. Kissing every inch of you had to be one of his greatest pleasures in life.

“Remind me to season that skillet in the morning.” 

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Carmen, shockingly, sleeps through the night. The warmth of your body next to him coupled with your excellent sleeping experience. A comfortable bed with good pillows, a white noise machine in the corner of your room (the ice maker in the fridge at Carmy’s would constantly go off so you got used to sleeping with background noise to cover it up), it was the best night of rest he’s had in months.

Your sheets smell like home. 

He’s slowly waking up now and his first thought is how much he misses the weight of your breast in his hand. Second thought is how much he needs to pee but damn your bed is comfortable. 

Carmen allows his body to wake up slowly. Stretching his arms out above his head and letting out a satisfied grunt at the feeling of his well rested muscles. Blinking his eyes awake just enough to take in the sight of all the trinkets and items that covered your space. There’s some things he notices that he knows for a fact he purchased you. Bottles of perfume, books you keep telling yourself you need to read, cups you constantly forget to bring back into the kitchen until you’re fully out of them.

Did you keep any of the pictures? Photo strips from Navy Pier and the holiday market at Wrigley Field. Everything from the disposable camera you brought along on road trips and vacations. The polaroids that once littered a cork board in your living room that the two of you added pictures to so often. If he looked around enough would he find them tucked away safely in a box or did you pitch them when you knew the two of you were through. 

Carmen still has one. You took most of them while you packed up your things from his place and refused to let him carry any of the boxes downstairs. So stubborn, so full of hurt pride. He just spent most of the day trying to stand out of your way but always available in case you finally admitted that you needed help. Maybe a small part of him hoped that as you packed up so many memories it would trigger a ‘What are we doing?’ reaction and you’d go running into his arms. 

You never did. 

But you did take one trip down to your car with an overstuffed Ikea bag over your shoulder and balancing a box on your hip. Carmen knew he didn’t have long, and it kind of felt like stealing, but he rushed over to the box you just started packing up and rifles through the photos as fast as he possibly could. It took a moment of digging before there it was. A polaroid photo someone took of the two of you on New Year’s Eve. You’re wearing some cheesy headband and he has those tacky sunglasses on that show off the incoming year on them. His arms are wrapped low around your waist as he stands behind you, one of your hands resting on top of his while the other is reaching up and back to cup his jaw. You’re both grinning and laughing in the photos and nothing bad has happened yet. 

He hears you shuffling back up the stairs so he’s quickly throwing the box back together after sliding the photo into his pocket and rushing back to stand in the kitchen. Acting like nothing was happening. You didn’t even look over at him so it wasn’t like he had to put up much of a show anway.

It’s still safely tucked into his wallet. 

The sound of the front door opening and hushed whispers are finally pulling him from his half asleep, reflective state. It looks like this day is getting started if he wants it to or not. He’s tilting his head to press it into the pillow underneath him, allowing one last deep inhale to remind himself exactly what your scent smells like before forcing his body to be pushed out of your bed.

Carmen turns the corner in just his boxer briefs and you’re not convinced you aren’t still dreaming because fuck he looks good. His hair’s a mess from the combination of you playing with it all night and him sleeping so well. One of his hands is scratching low on his hips while he takes in the sight of you in the kitchen. 

Maybe he shouldn’t be so comfortable walking around your apartment half dressed still but God is this relationship situation getting messier since the day since the two of you reconnected.

“Ordered some breakfast from Yolk. Figured you were hungry and I’m sure you have to run off this morning but I uh-…. I just wanted to make sure you were fed.” You nod to yourself. Giving him an out as you start popping open food boxes. There was just over an hour until you had to get to work too so there were multiple excuses possible for this morning to end as early as it needed to. 

In an odd, roundabout, time to head back to therapy kind of way it almost feels like you’re dating your ex. 

“Yeah.” He nods to himself and desperately wishes he had deodorant, cologne, fuck even Axe body spray. Something to make himself smell better or feel more presentable for you. “Richie actually tried installing fuckin’ bidets to the toilets last night. Kept on running his mouth about how prestigious they are and he, obviously, doesn’t know how to install bidets. So the bathrooms are a little-“ He waves his hands through the air.

“Shitty?” 

Second questionable pun you’ve made lately. Pull it together. 

There’s a breathy little laugh coming out, “Yeah, shitty.” Carmen’s peeking over your shoulder as you plate up breakfast, sneaking a piece of bacon from under your arm before pressing a kiss to the top of your ear. “Thank you for ordering this.” 

You nod and try to pretend you didn’t stop breathing having him so close to you under the soft morning light. 

He leaves $60 tucked under a vase on your dining table to cover breakfast. 

————

11:52 am

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Richie put his foot down and we’re stuck getting the bidets 

[DO NOT ANSWER]: If you’re wondering how my day is going 

12:17 pm

Shockingly my day is much less toilet related. I hope it’s going well. 

4:39 pm 

[DO NOT ANSWER]: I know so much about bathrooms now

————

You laugh a little too loud as the alert illuminates your phone. There’s a fond tugging at your heart as the ‘normal’ conversations fills your chat history instead of the short “My place tn” or “I still can’t find my jacket. You have to have it”. Maybe saving him as do not answer seemed too harsh but having his contact show up as a photo of you two cuddled up with the Chicago skyline in the background, an innocent and horrifically cheesy “Baby Boy 💙” contact name modeled after Richie saying you baby him too much one night. Every time it flashed across your screen and Richie saw he gave you guys an endless amount of shit. It became a constant bit that none of you got tired of at the time. 

You were trying to separate yourself from your past with him as much as possible at first but now those lines just keep getting more and more blurred. 

One of your coworkers grabs your attention away from your phone thus leaving Carmen’s message on read. He tries to pretend it doesn’t bother him as he gets to work prepping for tonight’s service. Who wants to talk about bathrooms with their… Fuck buddy? Ex? God that’s still so weird to say. 

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Your mind was haunted by thoughts of Carmen Berzatto all day. 

No matter how many busy tasks you assigned yourself he always seemed to creep back in. You’d look around for him when a joke landed well at work and the group you were with erupted into laughter. Could easily picture his head thrown back as he scrubs over his face in an attempt to muffle the sound. When you were standing alone your mind wandered off to the way he treated you last night. So claiming. Expertly working your body the way only he could after so much time of getting to know it. 

The bed feels so much 

You throw the blanket away from your frame and watch as it bundles up beside you. Is this crazy? It feels crazy. You shake out the nerves, fluffing up your shorts and primping yourself for the photo. It takes one, two, seven pictures to get just the right angle. An image of your thighs against the bedding and your oversized sleep shorts bunched up all the way down your legs. Taking a deep breath you steel your spine and pull up Carmen’s contact.

————

11:28 pm 

Headed to bed 

ONE IMAGE ATTACHED

11:29 pm 

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Fuck.

11:31 pm

Goodnight Carmen <3

2:12 am

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Can’t stop thinking about you 

ONE VIDEO ATTACHED

————

The sun is warm against your skin as it slowly wakes you up. There’s an air purifier rattling in the corner that acts half as white noise while you sleep, half to soak up the smells of Chicago. Sometimes when Carmen’s especially exhausted you have to bring out the big boy and ask your Google home to play sleep sounds to mask him snoring all night. You typically didn’t mind the sound, knowing it’s a sign of just how badly he needed a good night’s rest. 

You’re fishing your phone out of the comforter in a haste to click off the horrific sound of the alarm and your eyes are barely open when you see the alert. A preview image popping up and you can just barely a blurry image of - “Holy fuck!” 

Your free hand flies up to clamp over your mouth as a mix of gasps and ‘no fucking way’ come out of you with zero control. With shaking hands you open up the video, half tempted to pinch yourself with a video of Carmen fills your screen. His hand rubbing over the bulge in his boxers and there’s a mess of shaky breathing coming from behind the phone. You can’t get the volume turned all the way up fast enough and you’re terrified to miss a single sound. 

And there he is. 

Fishing his cock out of his boxers and stroking himself for you. Illuminated by the lamp on his bedside table and his hand over lubricated to mimic how wet you get for him. He’s a mess of filthy moans, bucking hips, are you dreaming? 

The combination of the sun beating in and the way this video is making your body go hot is too much. You’re overheating, kicking the blankets away from you while your hand goes into your shorts on instinct. Toying with your clit even though you don’t have much time to spare as you watch Carmen get off for you.

————

8:04 am

HEART REACTED TO A VIDEO

Mine tonight?

Fuck you sound so good

Wish I would have been there to clean you up

Say my name more next time please

How am I supposed to go to work now 

————

No response. You aren’t surprised, he’s typically busy in the morning. 

So you go along your day and let yourself enjoy the thought of Carmen coming back over tonight to take care of you. You had thought letting him back in was a risky move but things seemed fine so far. Settling into the new version of what normal was going to look like. Maybe things would end up being some version of alright after all. 

A chirp from your phone catches your attention and you’re instantly uninvested in whatever task was at hand. It might be a little pathetic how excited you were but that is besides the point. 

————

10:32 am 

[CARMEN]: Busy tonight

————

Busy tonight? Go fuck yourself Carmen! 

You waited all morning and THAT’S the response you get? Were the multiple texts too much? Did you come off too clingy? Sure he just stayed the night, was two times in one week where he drew the line? 

So you leave him on read and take away the heart from his video. Change his name back to DO NOT ANSWER and instantly feel the urge to get off tonight leaving your body. Replaced by a subtle anger that only he can bring out of you. 

The workday seems to go by so much quicker as you have this internal argument with yourself and mentally pick a battle with Carmen. Maybe you were silly to think things would… What? Go back to the way they were? No, of course not. 

Ugh!

Carmen who, by the way, truly was slammed. Got stuck hosting an event for an old family friend that he barely knew but was convinced it’d be good for business. He’s overwhelmed by work and anxious with his relationship with you. The breakup was horrific. One of the worst things he’s had to experience so far which certainly says a lot. At the very least - It made sense. This though? Sleeping together, fucking when you have shitty dates and he’s your second choice for the night, taking pictures of dumb things he sees during the day because it made him think of you but never actually sending them, it made zero sense.

If only there was something the two of you could do to figure this whole mess out. 

But alas.

You bring home a salad that’s far healthier than anything you’ve eaten all week accompanied by some fresh pressed green juice nonsense you lie to yourself and mentally say is delicious. The boy detox starts now. 

The shower you take that night must last an hour. Every inch of your body gets scrubbed, your face and hair both get a mixture of treatments and masks. You primp and polish yourself up and convince yourself that this is all for you and not so you look better than ever and Carmen will have to regret his stupid and shitty ‘Busy tonight’ text because you were also just like so, so busy and -

Fuck Carmen Berzatto. 

You decide you could go the rest of your life without hearing from him and be just fine. It was his loss. You’re funny, beautiful, and excellent in the bedroom. There’s thousands of people out there dreaming about finding someone like you!

This internal argument keeps going. And you know what’s annoying? The second you fling yourself into bed you realize he left his scent all over your sheets still. It hasn’t gone away - Cologne mixed with Carmen. And you 100% aren’t hunting out the scent nor are you hunting out a reason to stay annoyed with him. Not at all. So you get back out of bed and grab the fabric freshener to spray your sheets back down with, giving it a minute to dry before falling face first into the mattress with an annoyed huff. 

So yeah, fuck him. You hope you never hear from him again and toss your phone on the other side of the bed. Forcing your eyes shut and making your mind go blank because otherwise you’ll stew all night thus continuing this Carmen induced spiral. 

————

1:47 am

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Hey

————

Fuck.

[pastryfication]

rivalling teams | oscar piastri

a bit of a part one to this. thank u for the idea @insunia 🫶

pairing: oscar piastri x williams employee!reader

summary: the story of how it came to be that a member of logan’s team went on a date with a mclaren driver, and all the hardships you had to face because of your different team colours.

warnings: james vowles being a dick

working in formula 1 had always been your dream, and landing a job as a data analyst for the williams f1 team was that dream come true.

but the thrill of joining such a prestigious team was quickly ruined by the nervousness you felt as you stood outside of the doors on your first day. you were younger and less experienced than almost all other employees and you felt a sense of segregation as you first entered the team.

luckily for you, you were starting at the same time as logan sargeant; a young and talented driver who was also new to the team.

from your first day at williams, logan and you formed a quick bond. both of you were fresh out of adolescent, very ambitious, and more than eager to prove yourselves. the shared experience of being newcomers provided a foundation for a strong friendship and you often found yourselves working late into the night together, enjoying each others company immensely.

it happened one day, after a particularly grueling week, that logan invited you to join him for a casual dinner.

"you need a break," he had said, flashing his characteristic grin. "and i want you to meet an old friend of mine."

curious and eager for some downtime, you had agreed, and you soon found yourself following logan to a small, cozy restaurant.

the old friend he had wanted you to meet was oscar piastri, and you found yourself extremely grateful for logan when you realised that his fellow driver and longtime friend was charming, with a warm smile and a twinkle in his eye that made you feel at ease instantly.

the evening turned into night, and you found yourself drawn to oscar. while he had seemed closed of at first, you had soon realised that wasn’t really the case. the three of you talked for hours, and by the end of the night, oscar asked if he could see you again.

over the next few weeks, you and oscar started dating. he was thoughtful and kind, always making time for you despite his hectic schedule. your relationship blossomed quickly, and you cherished every moment together, even though you had to keep it discreet. you had no idea what the reactions of your employers would be, but you were both nervous to find out.

and find out you did, because the secrecy didn't last long. the williams team found out about your relationship, and the reaction was less than favorable. one afternoon, you were called into a meeting with your boss.

"we've heard about your relationship with oscar piastri," james began, his tone stern as he looked at you. "it's causing concern within the team. we need your full commitment here, without any distractions."

you felt your heart sink at the words. “my relationship isn’t affecting my job, i can assure you of that—“

“i’m not sure i can trust you to do your best for the team while being involved with a rivalling driver.” he interrupted you.

his tone made you feel like a misbehaved kid and you looked down to avoid his gaze. "are you asking me to choose between my job and my relationship?"

he nodded, his expression unyielding. "unfortunately yes, we are."

the news left you devastated and confused. you loved your job and had worked so hard to get there, but you also cherished your relationship with oscar. torn and unsure of what to do, you confided in logan later that day.

"this isn't fair," logan said, frustration evident in his voice. "why should you have to choose? they should be happy for you, not punishing you."

oscar was equally furious as soon as he heard about the situation. "they can't make you choose," he insisted. "we can make this work without affecting your job."

determined to support you and keep what felt like his only friend on the team, logan decided to take matters into his own hands. he arranged a meeting with the team management, his confidence unwavering.

"she’s a valuable asset to this team," logan argued passionately. "her work is impeccable, and she’s extremely committed—even with how negative everything seems right now. it’s not fair to ask her to choose between her job and her relationship."

his words seemed to surprisingly resonate with the management, who began to see the unfairness of their request, and after some deliberation, they agreed to let you stay, recognizing your contributions to the team and the dedication you had shown.

you had never been so grateful before, and the gratitude you showed logan almost made your boyfriend jealous. he couldn’t be though. not when he was just as thankful towards his american friend.

as your relationship continued to flourish, you and oscar found ways to navigate the challenges of your respective careers. sneaking away to see each other on the weekends and convincing the team to let you stay in his hotel room, you cherished every second you got together while still being careful to maintain professionalism at the track.

despite the continued subtlety of your relationship, he relentlessly supported you through the challenges of your job, always there to listen and offer advice, and you did the same for him. the bond you shared deepened, filled with late-night talks, shared dreams and a love that felt completely unshakable.

one evening, after a particularly grueling day, oscar takes you out for a quiet dinner. he holds your hand across the table, his eyes filled with warmth. “i’m proud of you,” he says softly. “for everything you’ve handled, for standing strong.”

you smile, squeezing his hand. “i couldn’t have done it without you.” thinking for a moment, you add: “or logan.”

oscar chuckles at your words. “yeah, he’s been quite amazing too.”

after dinner, you join logan for a movie night, a tradition that started when you first joined the team. as the movie plays, you sit nestled against oscar, logan on the other side of the couch. at one point, logan looks over, pretending to be annoyed.

“you know,” he says with mock exasperation, “i really don’t want to be the third wheel here.”

you laugh, reaching over to nudge him playfully. “sorry, logan. but you’re stuck with us. it’s your own fault, really.”

he grins, shaking his head. “yeah, yeah. just don’t get too cozy over there.”

as the movie continues, you feel a deep sense of contentment. despite the challenges, you’ve found a way to balance your job and your relationship with oscar, thanks to logan’s unwavering support and your own determination. the three of you have become a close-knit team, navigating the highs and lows of the racing world together.

in those quiet moments, surrounded by the people who mean the most to you, you realize that no matter what obstacles come your way, you’ll face them with courage and love. with oscar (and logan) by your side, you can conquer anything.