#what exactly. but they are…… interesting.

[sharkikive]

match made in heaven (ken sato x fem!reader)

Summary: You were Professor Sato’s research assistant and your apartment just got destroyed by Ultraman.

Somehow, this led to a matchmaking project between you and the infamous baseball player, Ken Sato.

Word count: 6,887

A/N: I yap a lot when it comes to writing. Just writing this because the Ken Sato brainrot is too damn strong. Just a bunch of gibberish. Not my best but currently too hung up on Kenji. Includes mention of Professor Sato, Mina and Emi (definitely having baby fever because of her).

Ken Sato.

His name was a staple in your daily life, yet you had never met the man face to face.

The moment you thought you had escaped from hearing the broken recording of his name, it was brought up once again as the news of him returning to Japan plastered the news.

You rolled your eyes at the screen, but were careful enough not to let the old man hunched over the table, poring over some papers on Kaiju, see you.

Well, you could not exactly tell the father that you were tired of hearing his son’s name everywhere, could you?

“Professor Sato,” you started. “I shall take my leave for today.”

“Ah yes, sure. Please have a safe journey back home. I’m sorry this old man can’t send you back safely,” he replied, to which you quickly dismissed.

“Professor, I’ll be fine.” You chuckled lightly, “In case you have forgotten, I’m already 26. I’m already an adult. No longer the wide-eyed, 17-year-old you first took under your wing.”

He gave out a breathy laugh, sniffling as you knew what’s going to come out of his mouth next. You resisted the urge to stop him, purely out of respect.

“Kenji is the same age as you. I wish you could meet him, but that child is very stubborn. He wouldn’t even answer my calls, let alone meet me.” He paused, as if thinking of the next sentence, but went against it.

You only smiled weakly, the only response you’d always given when he mentioned his son’s name. You took this as a sign to leave before bowing and setting off to your apartment.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you were tired of listening to that man’s name every single time. Yes, you knew that it was Professor Sato’s guilt that kept him talking about his son, but the more you heard about him, the more you found him less likeable.

He came back to Japan, yet he did not even contact his father even once? Yet Professor Sato would talk about him every day.

You knew nothing about baseball, and did not care to find out, but the appearance of Ken Sato forced you to learn that he’s apparently about to be the saviour for the Giants.

You sighed, stopping under the night sky as you watched people milling about the streets.

You were an ambitious girl who had a deep interest in Kaiju and without shame, Ultraman. Ultraman was the first hero you knew and grew up with, so imagine the elation you felt when you found out that Professor Sato was affiliated with both. He agreed to take you under his wing with the condition that you finished your degree, so the moment you had gotten your scroll you showed up in front of him, eager to start.

He probably couldn’t turn you away considering how you seemed… pitiful. Yup, that’s probably the word.

You enjoyed working as his research assistant, but found out soon enough that he was a lonely man who missed his wife and son dearly. He was a father figure to you, considering that you were orphaned at a young age.

It was a peaceful night.

Well, if you consider the scene of Neronga choking Ultraman as a peaceful night.

Correction: It was supposed to be a peaceful night.

You stepped back as the gigantic hero got slammed into another building, destroying yet another public property. You winced as it was obvious that the hero was not upholding the principles and seemed more like he was trying to destroy as much as he could.

The thing that irritated you the most? You knew exactly who it was under that suit.

You shook your head, not even bothering to see how the fight would go. You were 100% sure the KDF would be gunning down the Kaiju in no time.

You set off again, mildly hoping that your apartment did not get obliterated in the chaos, or you would definitely hunt that baseball player down.

It was hard to ignore the fight when two giants were stomping around the city, and you dropped dramatically on your knees when you saw Ultraman being launched in the direction of your building.

“No-” you weakly said, knowing that your voice was merely a speck of hopelessness among the gasps of the crowd, Ultraman’s groan and Neronga’s roar. From behind your glasses, a tear rolled down your face as you saw your apartment building crumbling, all thanks to that stupid, cocky, asshole of a baseball player.

Now thanks to Professor Sato’s beloved son, you were homeless.

***

Maybe it was your lack of sleep from worrying about how the progress of rebuilding your house went, because you were dragged by Professor Sato at 2 in the morning to the secret base, facing a scene that you promptly found ridiculous.

Right, seeing the giant hero hunched over in front of you was no surprise because you knew exactly who it was. A little bit weird how he’s here considering his relationship with his father, but that wouldn’t be an issue.

But what was an issue was that the said giant was cradling an equally gigantic pink baby Kaiju and was- you took a step back.

Something must had happened because Ken Sato was crying in front of you. Not the scene you’d expect in the morning while being sleep-deprived.

Your mind was only registering the words ‘injured’, ‘need help’ and the rest was a blur as Professor Sato helped in correcting the fracture in the Kaiju’s arm. The Kaiju was calmed down, brought to sleep and you could not help but smile at the sleeping baby.

Part of the reason you were still there was because you found the baby Kaiju so adorable with her chubby cheeks and twitterings.

Another part was because you were curious to see (discreetly, of course, under the pretext of looking over the Kaiju) the dynamic between Ultradad and well, the son. You were facing the Kaiju but you were straining your ears to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“Doing this-“ you picked up a sentence, -“doesn’t suddenly make you Ultradad.”

You felt slightly perturbed. Kenji came in here pleading while crying, Professor Sato helped him without any questions yet the son was barely grateful for it.

But you knew you’re no one to be meddling in their family affairs.

So you kept quiet, straining your ears with Mina - the robot - hovering nearby.

Your mind wandered to whether it would be plausible for you to chip in a request for Ken Sato’s autograph and sell it high to make up for the costs of your destroyed apartment.

That’s the least he could do after reducing your safe space into rubble.

You snapped back to the present as you heard your name being called, and was greeted with the sight of a smiling father and a son looking like he’d love to be anywhere but here.

Ken Sato was not smiling, but he didn’t look like he hated you either.

The next thing you knew was that you were left alone with Ken, and you couldn’t help but think Professor Sato had a hidden agenda because he left with a chuckle. Even Mina was nowhere in sight.

What could I possibly say to this man I’ve never met before?

The young man in front of you looked starkly different from the confident, boastful man you had seen in interviews. Instead, he seemed more like a sad excuse who looked so distraught you swore you could see him shrinking.

“So uh-” he started, scratching his head with an awkward smile. “Y/N… right?”

Your eyebrows lifted at the mention of your name.

“Dad told me about your apartment.” He grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

You clicked your tongue. “Other than the fact that I became homeless, it’s no issue.”

You did not intend it to be a joke, but it seemed that the only immediate response he could give was to laugh awkwardly, before he buried his face in his hands. “God- I’m so- sorry.” He pried his fingers slightly to look at you, before continuing. “I came back to Japan because dad wanted me to continue this- I don’t know what you call this. Legacy?”

Your eyes trailed his movements; you got slightly startled as he suddenly sprang up and you pushed back your glasses.

“High hopes from everyone ever since I started playing for the Giants, dad wanting me to become Ultraman and-“ he sighed exasperatedly, “it was too much.”

You rubbed the tip of your nose before shrugging. “Well, you did seem confident while you were on TV. If you ask me, you gave them that confidence.”

He left his mouth slightly hanging open as he didn’t expect you to give it to him straight.

You continued, “Ultraman is a hero for some, if not all. Some of them may not care. But all,” your eyes collided with his as he plopped back down onto the sofa, “don’t know who is under that suit. All they know is Ultraman is supposed to be the hero protecting the city with-“ you pressed your lips into a thin line, “-minimal damage.”

He blinked. Did he look like he wanted to cry again?

The corner of your lips lifted up slightly, but you quickly switched it off as he looked at you imploringly.

You raised your hands shoulder-level, hiding a yawn before managing. “Don’t expect me to become your counsellor, but what I’m saying is, when you’re Ken Sato, the baseball player, of course they’d expect you to play well. When you’re Ultraman, people expect you to be the hero.” You interlinked your fingers. “They don’t see you becoming both at the same time. And now, you added another point to your resume. You became a single dad.”

He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. He sucked in his lower lip and for the first time ever you thought that maybe Professor Sato’s son wasn’t that bad at all, both personality and lookwise.

“I can’t comment much about what you feel about your father. I won’t deny that my opinion on you was formed only based on what I saw, but I now know that you must have had a reason why you acted that way to your father.” You shrugged. “I saw a lonely father and a distant son. Because I spent almost all of my time with Professor Sato, please trust me, he talks about you every single day.” You spread your arms, “Your father talked about you, the TV was blaring news about you 24/7 and I was exhausted hearing your name all the time.”

He didn’t seem offended, but was merely focusing on the one sentence. “My father talks about me every day?”

”Every day,” you breathed. “You and your mother.” You smiled, “He never stopped thinking about both of you.”

”Huh.” It seemed like he didn’t know how to react.

This time, you couldn’t help but yawn so you got up quickly, intending to leave the base. If the conversation wasn’t finishing, you were sure you were about to finish it. Your eyelids couldn’t hold much longer.

It was nice having a talk with this infamous baseball player and it sure did change your perspective of him.

He looked on, confused, as you gave a slight nod before heading towards the exit.

”Hey-“ he started, doing a slight jog to catch up to you, who was almost asleep standing up. He gently grabbed the strap of your sling bag, and you snapped your eyes open. He retracted his hand, citing, “Sorry. But where do you think you’re going?”

It was your turn to look confused. “Home?” You said it as a question rather than a statement. “Wait,” you tracked back, “not home. My temporary home at the inn down the road because,” you giggled, clearly drunk from the lack of sleep, “Ultraman destroyed my home.”

”And because Ultraman destroyed your home, you’re staying with me,” he said smoothly, slightly nudging your back with his shoulder. Clearly he struggled as you were much shorter than him.

”With you?” You had no idea where the idea was going yet so you shook your head. “Why would I want to stay with you?”

He took a step back and tugged at the strap of your sling back, essentially dragging you with him. “Don’t misunderstand. Dad’s staying with me as well, we have Mina and you’re joining me because we need to train her.”

”Wait, wait, wait.” You slapped a hand on his shoulder, but he was still holding on strong to the strap. “We? Her? What are we even talking about?”

You were clearly guided by him as you found yourself standing underneath his gaze in front of the Kaiju’s enclosure.

”We as in you, me, dad and Mina.” He nodded, looking satisfied. “Her as in this baby.” He did a show of hands towards the sleeping Kaiju.

You grimaced. “Sir, I did say that my perspective on you has changed, but that doesn’t mean you’re dragging me with you.”

”You’re my dad’s research assistant, right?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Yes…” You didn’t like where this is going.

”You don’t have a house… yet.”

”Yes…”

You took a step back, and what you could describe him now was as a puppy as he imitated your actions. There was a twinkle in his eyes as he leaned down to level his eyes with yours before saying, “Your boss is here, and you currently have no home to go back to. So why not? Take it as me being sorry for destroying your house as well. Deal?” He put out his hand to give you a shake.

You laughed nervously. “And what is it in for me…?”

”You… get to live in the same house as Ken Sato?”

”Nice, yay,” you said flatly. You rolled your eyes. “No.”

“Oh come on,” he groaned. “I feel bad.”

”There’s no need for you to feel bad, okay. I put that behind me, whatever.” You threw your hands in the air. “I’m going, bye.” You turned around, ready to leave.

”I’ll give you my autograph, as many as you’d like,” he quickly chipped in. “Signed possession, whatever you want.” He grinned in satisfaction as he saw you stop in your tracks and you quickly turned around. “It sells. A lot.”

”Hmm…” You seemed to consider it before you shook your head. “Your reputation lately isn’t the best so to sell them might be a bit hard…” You trailed off, clearly more of an effort to swat him away since you did think about it.

You couldn’t deny, it was a nice offer. But you were more worried about how you would cope, considering that you may have found him slightly attractive…

“I’m sure dad would be happy for you to stay here as well?”

You gritted your teeth. First time meeting him in real life and he already knew your weakness. He knew that using his father’s name would cause you to waver.

Still, you held on to your decision.

“No-”

He blinked slowly, and you heard the baby Kaiju stir in her sleep.

You ran your eyes towards the Kaiju before sighing. There was one thing you were interested in.

No, not the man in front of you.

You walked over to the enclosure. “How is she with strangers?”

Kenji popped up beside you before winking. “If I say the stranger is a friend, you’ll be glad to have her around.”

You took a moment to think, weighing the pros and cons. “Full privacy? Separate bathrooms?”

He scratched the nape of his neck. “Well, there is one separate bathroom for the guests but the shower’s faulty.” Something dawned on his face as he just realised this. “The only working shower is in, uh, my room.”

You stared back at him. “So there is a chance I might run into you naked?”

“I’ll preserve my dignity.” He paused. “You know what, take my room. I can use the guest room.”

You chuckled, taking his hand in a forced handshake. “Fine, deal.”

He looked surprised, but trailed after you as both of you took the ride up. “Wait, what was the dealbreaker? Because of the Kaiju? The room? The-” he looked at you almost accusingly. “-chance of seeing the Ken Sato naked-”

“Shh-” you clamped a hand over his mouth in an attempt to silence him just as the entrance pried open, revealing a smiling Professor Sato.

“Dad,” Ken said in a muffled voice, and you pulled back from covering his mouth. “Dad,” he tried again. “She agreed to staying here.”

You looked at the professor from the corner of your eyes. So it was his doing. You wondered what the father had held over his son’s head to make him obey.

“Can I retire for the night?” You did an exaggerated show of stretching. “I’m becoming delirious from the lack of sleep.”

“Room’s to your right,” Ken offered.

“Make sure to lock the door,” Mina reminded you.

“Mina,” Ken groaned. “What are you implying?”

“Just general safety measures. Ken-” she hovered near the baseball player, “-are you okay? Your heartbeat is increasing-”

He groaned. “I’m fine, Mina. I’ll be using the guest room.”

Both of you went separate ways, leaving Professor Sato and Mina in the living room.

Professor Sato whispered, “Mina, status report on the project.”

Mina obediently replied, “Matchmaking project is showing positive progress. We can expect to see rapid progress in the next few weeks.”

***

Training and taking care of the baby Kaiju - which the professor had named Emi - was no easy feat. Contributed by your almost non-existent stamina, you were left cheering from the sides as mostly Ken and Emi did all kinds of simulation to train her. Dealing with a 20-feet monster was not on your bucket list, but you had proudly ticked it off mentally.

You heard whooping from the two and you held onto your bottle as the ground shook when Emi jumped up and down. Subconsciously, you smiled as you saw Ken cheering for the baby, and he almost got crushed when Emi gave his human form a high-five.

You quietly went up the lift as Ken was fussing over Emi to make her go to sleep. You plopped down on the sofa, switched on the TV and to no surprise, his name decorated the evening news.

Ken Sato showing good progress…

Ken Sato showing a more mature side…

Ken Sato helping the Giants to pick themselves back up…

“I definitely look better in person,” Ken’s voice came from behind and you could feel his presence near you. “May I?” He asked for permission to sit beside you but both of you knew the answer as he plopped down right next to you.

You see, these are the small things that could make you wonder whether he’s doing it on purpose or he really had no idea how they affected you.

You gulped when you could feel his knee bumping against yours, or when he casually put his arm on the back of the sofa across your shoulders. There was no contact but there might as well be something because you felt like your heart would jump right out.

Your romantic encounter with a guy was only as far as a guy who called you a creep because you were following him. That day, you were navigating the world half-blind because you broke your glasses and it seemed that he was going to your destination. Sure, you admitted that it was your fault and you apologised profusely, but that made you avoid taking the train for at least two weeks.

You got startled when Ken pressed a cold can on your cheek. The corner of your eyes caught the words ‘COCONUT WATER’. Remembering how Mina had essentially pestered Ken to drink coconut water as a ‘healthy option’, you smiled. Mina had also reminded Ken multiple times that because you didn’t drink, never, ever offer you a can of beer.

”Nah,” you refuted. “You look better on screen.” You imitated taking a camera shot of his face before chiding. “Up near you’re just…” You trailed off.

”Just what?” He asked, prying open his can of coconut water. Without asking, he took yours before helping to open it up for you.

This. These small gestures were what convinced you that you were turning crazy.

”Ugly,” you supplemented.

”Hey, play nice,” he tapped the opened can on your cheek before shoving it into your hand.

You chuckled, taking a gulp of the drink before both of you basked in silence. To him, it was a comfortable silence but to you, you were currently hoping that your heartbeat would just… stop.

You thought that maybe spending time and living together with Ken Sato would further confirm that you hated his guts, but so far, you were only getting the opposite effect. You were sure there was some character development somewhere… from that first moment he destroyed your house to that moment you met him again as he was cradling Emi.

You hated this growing feeling you had towards him and it’s so painfully obvious what Professor Sato (and Mina) were planning on doing to both of you.

The worst part was it seemed like it’s either: 1. Ken was too oblivious, or 2. He knew, but didn’t want to entertain the thought.

Was it a better idea to just leave? They did say your house would be finished being rebuilt in a few days.

”So…” you croaked. “My house will be done in a few days so I think it’s better for me to start packing.” You stole a glance at him. Now… Why am I hoping that he would stop me?

A flicker of disappointment behind his eyes but he was quick to switch it off. “Sure,” he rubbed his nose. “If… that’s what you want.”

You pursed your lips. This stupid erratic heartbeat wouldn’t stop and you hated that you didn’t know what to do with it. “I’ll… start packing then.” You took another peek at him. He wasn’t looking at you.

You stood up, but he stopped you. Your heart was making its way out of your ribcage for beating too loud, but it slowed down when he uttered, “Hey, don’t forget your coconut water."

You looked at him with an ‘Are you serious?’ look before taking it, not once unlocking your stare from his and standing up, finished the drink in one gulp. You crushed the can, and threw it in one shot towards the dustbin.

”Oh, okay.” He looked surprised by your reaction.

You stalked your way to the bedroom and closed the door. Sighing exasperatedly, you pressed your back against the door and slid down. You buried your face in your hands before lightly hitting your head with a fist. You felt bad for reacting that way but you found it harder to deny the feeling when you were so confident that you would manage to resist.

Outside in the living area, Ken looked troubled, his forehead wrinkling when he tried backtracking what he did. He turned to look over his shoulder as the spherical robot hovered near him, and he threw his head back.

”What is it, Mina? Are you here to chide me again?”

”In these kinds of situations, the woman is usually hoping the man would stop her from leaving,” Mina said.

”Mina,” he pleaded.

”I believe a misunderstanding had happened,” she offered again, to which he appeared confused. “Please, do look at the screen.”

Ken’s eyes travelled to the projection Mina made. He looked even more confused as one of his solo interviews was displayed. He looked inquiringly at Mina, before the latter sweeped her robotic hands to ask him to focus on the interview.

It was an interview he did some time last week. His face changed when he started catching on what Mina was trying to show.

“So your name has become the talk of the town again for a good reason now.” The interviewer paused for effect. “This is a question that I’m sure everyone has thought of at least once when we’re talking about Ken Sato.” The interviewer looked at him. “Do you have anyone you’re interested in or at least, someone you have set your eyes on?”

Ken’s response was immediate as he laughed and shook his head. “No, no. Not right now.” He leaned back, a relaxed stance as he waved his hand in front of his face. “Right now I’m only focusing on my baseball career. Still got a long way to go. I don’t want to waste my time on something so unimportant.”

The interviewer turned back to the screen. “You’ve heard it directly from the man, folks. He’s-“

Mina switched off the replay while Ken looked regretful.

Exasperated, he said, “Mina, you know I don’t mean it that way.”

“I believe you should be clarifying that with Y/N herself and not me. She is the subject of your affection.”

“Affection-” he mulled over the word. “Do you really think so, Mina? Is this what this…” He put a hand over his chest. “Foreign feeling is?”

“From my observation,” Mina replied as she stayed close to Ken’s shoulder. “Your expression becomes livelier, your smile becomes wider and your eyes twinkle more whenever she is around. Now,” she paused, “you do have that same reaction whenever you’re with Emi. However, I do sense your heartbeat increasing every time you’re with Y/N. I believe this is what they would call a romantic attraction.”

“So in short,” he sighed, “I like her but I’m saying the opposite thing? But-” he almost grabbed Mina to ask her more, “how would I know if she feels the same way? I- I don’t think I can handle rejection from her. Do you sense anything from her?”

There was a silence as Mina backed up, making way towards her room. “I believe that is not a question for me to answer, Ken. Why don’t you sort it out with her?”

Ken looked at the door of the room you’re in, gathering the courage to make his way. He stopped in front of the door, he shook his hands, breathing in and out as his mind reeled with all sorts of apologies and words to offer to you.

He raised his hand to knock on the door, and at the same time you swung open the door, causing him to knock a fist on your forehead.

So much for Ultraman reflexes.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Ken shouted, automatically cupping your face to see the damage he’d done. “Are you- are you okay?”

You blinked, everything happening at once too much for you. He knocked on your door, you happened to open it at the same time and now he’s-

“I’m… fine. Can you…” you tapped your palm on his hand. “...let go?”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” he let go as he laughed nervously. “Reflexes fail you at times like these, right?” His face fell as he saw you avoiding his gaze. “Hey. Can we talk?”

You looked up, finally looking at him. “Yeah?”

He exhaled. “Like, properly.”

“Have we not been communicating properly?”

Mina suddenly appeared beside both of you. “I apologise for having to interrupt but yes, I do observe some miscommunication going on. So if both of you may sort it out.”

Mina’s hands pushed both of you into the room and shut the door.

There were protests from both but they quickly died down before silence stretched. Both of you exchanged glances but not words, and neither had any idea what the other was thinking of.

All the apologies and words Ken was thinking of offering to you went up in a cloud of smoke. Instead, he asked the one thing he wished he could take back. “So when are you planning to leave?” Dang it, Ken.

Your face contorted, obviously offended. “As soon as I can. Don’t worry,” you walked over to the bed, shoved your clothes into your duffel bag and zipped it up. “I wanted to tell you that I finished packing.”

”You’re leaving tonight?” This time around, he didn’t hide his disappointment. Why, why is it so hard for him to ask you to stay? To tell you what he really feels?

Sure, he couldn’t deny that his attitude came from growing up mostly without his father around. He had grown up with this wall built around him as a defensive mechanism. He found it hard to communicate with others, to explain what he really was feeling.

He pressed his lips into a thin line. He figured it was best to let the feeling die down. You’d be better off with someone else anyway.

”Just tell me when you want to leave,” he finally uttered. “I’ll open the door for you.”

You gritted your teeth and only nodded.

He turned around and shut the door. Mina and his father were outside, the latter having a worried look on his face.

”Kenji,” Professor Sato uttered.

”I want to be alone, dad,” he mentioned. “Mina,” he turned to the supercomputer, “just make sure she gets to where she wants to go safely.”

As Ken shut the door, Professor Sato turned to Mina, to which he uttered, “I trust this is not the time to ask about the progress.”

Mina answered. “Yes, Professor. I believe we may have hit a wall.”

***

You decided to leave early in the morning and with only a note, saying that you’d like to have some time off. Mina was kind enough to open the door for you, but when she asked whether you’d like to have Ken and Professor Sato see you off, you shook your head vigorously.

”Mina, tell them I’m going somewhere nice for a vacation.” You winked, but it was obvious that you were trying to hide something from breaking. “They better not look for me.”

Mina paused, as if she’s using her electronic brain to figure a way to stop you. “Kenji has a reason for acting that way.” A pause. “Though I am merely a robot with little to no experience in romantic relationships.”

You chuckled. “Thank you, Mina. Really, all of you were so kind to me. It’s just that,” you sighed, “I understand why he’d act that way. He has a whole career to look forward to. Adoring fans. He can’t be wasting-“ you gulped, the words bitter on your mouth, “-time on something so insignificant. I shall take my leave.”

”Y/N,” she uttered. “If I may ask one last question before you leave?”

You tilted your head. “Sure, Mina. What is it?”

“Were my calculations wrong about what you’re feeling?”

”And that is?”

”You hated him at first, but that hate has turned into something more… lovely."

You couldn’t help but smile. “It’s so obvious isn’t it?” You crinkled your nose. “I better take my leave before the three of them wake up.”

That was the last you saw all four of them - Professor Sato, Ken, Mina and Emi. That was what… a week ago?

Now you’re sitting, slumped in your bean bag as you groaned, bored out of your mind. Nice vacation, my ass. If that means reading the same books over and over again, surfing the web and watching the same TV shows while being cooped up in your house, you’re definitely having a nice vacation.

Even then, you found it hard to avoid that person. He was literally everywhere.

You switched off the TV, stretched, before something gigantic shook the whole city. Your eyes went wide as you realised that there was a possibility of another attack. Without much thought, you pushed up your glasses and took a glance through your apartment window.

There they are.

You saw both Ultraman and Emi traversing the landscape. You turned around to leave your apartment, but stopped as you heard sharp chirpings.

Emi was hovering near your window and you laughed, amazed at the sight in front of you. “Emi, you grew wings! You can fly now!”

The baby Kaiju smiled at you, seemingly proud that she could finally set off from the ground.

”Emi, come on.” You heard the one voice that could shatter your resolve then and there.

You tried to close the window, had enough, but the hero stopped you from shutting the window.

“Ow,” he complained, flapping his hand. Ken quickly stopped you from leaving as he said, “Look, I’ve been a jerk and-“ a loud boom resonated through the whole city, “-I want to start over.”

You sucked in your lower lip, mulling over his sentence. You lifted up your eyebrows as if to say, ‘Really, right now?’

He nodded. “I’m sorry. I like you, okay? But I didn’t know how to say it. Or maybe I was just afraid of rejection.”

You tried to keep a straight face but failed; you didn’t expect to hear a confession from Ultraman. You cleared your throat as you looked away. “Become a hero, save the day and then say all of that again,” your voice dropped to a whisper, as if anyone could hear you, “as Ken Sato.”

You’re not sure whether it was possible, but his eyes lit up brighter as he nodded. He started a light jog to launch himself before shouting, “Wait for me!” He disappeared in a twinkle in the night sky.

With your best guess, you assumed the fight must be going on between them and the KDF. Knowing that you’d be anxious waiting to see the results of the fight, you grabbed your jacket, set off into the night and tried searching a vantage point where you’d be able to at least get a view of what’s happening.

You found a spot and narrowed your eyes as you tried to get an idea of where the two of them stood. Emi… Ultraman… Is that Gigantron?

You became confused as you remembered clearly Professor Sato claiming that the most magnificent creature on Earth had died. What the hell is going on?

You gripped the railing of the bridge you were on, the fight getting further and further away from you. You watched the fight unfold… breath battered as you were silently cheering them on. You gasped as another figure launched himself into the fight.

”Professor,” you muttered to yourself. “Please, please be safe.”

The fight was a distant chaos, you could barely see what was going on. You gritted your teeth as you waited for the final call, but dropped to your knees as you realised what was going on.

”No, no, no. Ken…"

You saw the shield. Ken underneath the shield, the explosion that should have been loud, but was muffled inside the enclosure Ken had made before blinding light filled the atmosphere.

Tears filled up your vision as you saw the giant hero collapse into the sea.

***

You stared blankly at the unmoving body in front of you, while another person was strategically standing near the exit. You looked over your shoulder as you felt a light, reassuring tap.

Professor Sato wanted to offer some words of reassurance, but you merely shook your head. He let out a heavy breath, saying, “I’ll leave the two of you alone. I'll continue working on restoring Mina.”

”Thanks,” you sniffled. “Professor.”

Apparently on the day the fight happened, Mina was caught in the frenzy and was almost shut down, while the secret base was partially destroyed. Now the Professor was working on recovering Mina, while Ken…

You sighed, looking at the patient in front of you.

Nothing to worry about, actually. Despite the quick thinking of Ultraman in front of you throwing himself over the bomb, he actually managed to escape with just a broken arm. He’s not dead, Ken Sato was still here, recovering.

But what annoyed you was that it seemed every time you came to visit, he would pretend to be asleep. Not even stirring, obviously faking sleep to avoid talking to you.

So what, all that confession was for naught? Just an adrenaline rush from becoming the hero?

This time around though, it did seem like he was fast asleep. His chest was rising and falling steadily. His hair was messy, and you resisted the urge to tidy it up.

”You jerk,” you grumbled. “I was so worried for you, but… you’re really planning on leaving me hanging like this?”

”Y/N…”

You stopped grumbling to yourself as you heard the man in front of you mumbling your name. You leaned forward, curious to hear what he got to say.

”You look so…” he continued, eyes still shut.

You strained your ears to catch more.

”I like you…”

You pressed your lips together before punching his unhurt shoulder, almost too hard.

He gasped, sat up straighter, taking in big gulps of air as his irises move frantically to search for the source of the punch.

”Who-“ he blinked. “Y/N?”

”In the flesh,” you deadpanned.

”What are you-“

”I told you,” you interjected. “Tell it to my face as Ken Sato.”

He looked guilty for a moment, and you leaned back in your chair.

”You’re going to say it was a mistake, aren’t you?” You asked, clearly exasperated.

”No, it wasn’t a mistake!” He quickly said, searching for your eyes. “After the fight that day I felt like being a hero means that there was a possibility I would just-” he imitated an explosion, “disappear.”

You grabbed his collar. “If you know that even any single day you have a possibility of disappearing, that your life is short, then-” the grip around his collar became tighter, “-it means that you have to grab every opportunity as soon as you can. That includes confessing to someone you like.” You threw your hands up in frustration and stood up, pacing back and forth. “God! Why are relationships so complicated? And why am I so, so, so stupid?”

You buried your face in your hands.

“I don’t know,” you said, tears pooling in your eyes. “When you said you didn’t have any interest in anyone, and that you didn’t want to waste your time on something so insignificant. Hearing that, I just-” you sighed. “-thought that the answer was so obvious. You have your priorities straight.”

“Y/N-” he stopped you by touching your arm lightly, pulling you over to sit beside him. “That was-” He winced as he felt pain shooting up his arm. He tried again, “That was what I’d usually say in interviews before this, because baseball was the only thing that put a smile on my face. But now…” He took your hand, caressing it. “You came and it was just one, big confusion for me. You are the only person who has managed to,” he chuckled, “cause the Ken Sato to waver. It was a foreign feeling for me."

“Idiot…” you mumbled.

He pulled you closer with his good arm, and obviously inexperienced, you shut your eyes tight as you felt him softly breathing against your cheek. Of course, you thought he’d go for a kiss on your lips, but you heard him chuckle before he pressed a light one on your cheek. You opened your eyes and he was grinning.

He thought you looked adorable.

“What was that?” you asked flatly.

“A kiss?” he said, unsure of what exactly you were implying.

“Uh-uh.”

You grabbed his face, and he looked surprised as you leaned in to kiss him on the lips. Your glasses were in the way so you took them off, and you felt his arm snaking around your waist to hold you firmly in place.

In the heat of the moment and flurry of emotions, you found yourself pinned under him, his good arm caging you. He kissed you again, but this time around you felt your heart beating so loud you had to place your palms against his chest to slightly push him away.

“Ken,” you warned him. “We’re in the hospital.”

He blinked, feigning innocence. “Really? I had no idea.” He traced a finger on your cheek, wiping away the traces of your tears. He pinched your cheek as he said, “The doctor told me that I’m good to be discharged tomorrow.”

Suddenly conscious of how you’re pinned under him, you looked away. “That’s good. You can go back home in no time.”

He tapped a finger on your chin, causing you to look back at him. “My house is still under repair, remember? I’m essentially homeless.”

“You can live with your dad-“

“Take the hint, sweetheart.” He kissed your forehead before collapsing beside you, both of you cramped on the small hospital bed.

You thought about how you had never, ever brought a guy home. And now Ken wanted to…?

“I’ll think about it,” you said.

He smiled, squeezing your shoulders as you buried your face in his chest. “Can I ask just one… question?”

“Sure, shoot.”

“What was the dealbreaker, really? The one that made you agree to stay at the secret base?”

“You really want to know?”

“Of course.”

This time, you didn’t even hesitate. “The chance to see the Ken Sato naked of course.”

“Damn it. I knew that was the reason.”

[simpjaes]

renaissance man (p. js)

Taking note of the strangers you see day to day isn’t something you’d normally do. The only reason today is different is because the guy who made small talk as he rang you up for your intimate items was the same guy who showed up catering for your family reunion.  or the one where jay is a dildo salesman, a caterer, a self-titled mechanic, and also your ride home. he is not an expert in any of his jobs, but he sure is an expert in wit and well, other things.

minors dni!! | pls reblog to show your support!

WORDCOUNT― 14.6k

PAIRING― park jongseong x afab reader 

CONTENT― fluffy comfort smut, strangers to lovers like immediately, you buy a monster sized dildo, blatant talking of masturbation and toys, smut, cliche blooming an attachment to someone after (1) fuckening. 

!!ATTENTION!!― read this before? that’s because I run two blogs and like to re-vamp fics i’ve previously written for other groups! [@/ncteez is likely where you’ve read it from. THAT IS ME!!!] 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― it’s kind of fluffy im so sorry i just have feelings for him, average cock size jay!!!![i am not of this belief, i think his cock is fat and huge], he is very much a service top, making out, hand holding, caressing, grinding, finger fucking, titty worship,  unprotected sex, sweet talking as a form of dirty talk, missionary bc i refuse to pretend he wouldn’t want that, back scratches (sexual)

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Never have you been put in the position to make small talk about the sex toys you place on a counter to purchase. Then again, you guess it’s part of the job description that most people ignore or aren’t privy to actually doing. 

Never have you been informed of the wide variety of lubricants, additional toy-cleaners, or the bigger and smaller alternatives to your chosen toy. You don’t show discomfort though, because it’s not uncomfortable. Sex is normal, masturbation is more normal, and the man in front of you appears to be normal too.

“There’s twelve different color variants if you prefer something less fleshy.” The man says, standing at the counter with some sort of a permanent pout on his lips. 

“I’m fine, if you could just ring me up now I can get out of your hair.” You respond, glancing at the time on your phone and wondering how you got stuck with the only employee who actually does his job here.

“Are you sure you don’t want any lubricant?” The man adds, gazing at the size of your toy and then looking you up and down as if you clearly wouldn’t be able to handle your chosen toy without help.

The man with no name tag appears to be blissfully unaware of his invasiveness with that question as you tilt your head with a raised brow. Shocked at the very question, it’s actually quite laughable that he’s so monotone with the offensive comment. You imagine he’s done this for so long that he must be a manager trying to get the day over with, going through the steps in a bored mood with little to no regard as to how he must sound to strangers buying their first or twentieth dildo. 

With your assumption that he doesn’t exactly care about the level of wet your vagina is when you use this toy, you respond. “I think I know my body well enough and I already have lube, but thanks.”

He nods, not even sparing you much of a glance before giving you a total and bagging your item.

Now, despite Jay’s lack of interest toward the purchase of toys, he finds it comical that he’s grown numb to the very fact that he knows what everyone in this town’s kinks are after they step out of the shop’s door. Someone’s gotta do this job and keep those secrets…he likes to think he fits the bill perfectly. 

Lively as he may be outside of this shop, each job comes with a personality and this one calls for one of disinterest in your product but interest in the sale. He’s not one to lie to himself though, many times a pretty girl has marched in and bought toys far bigger than any man and he does tend to let his mind wander about it from time to time. When he first started this job, bright eyed and bushy-tailed, he found it hard to navigate a single sale without a flush of tints crossing his cheeks and ears. Now, he’s become a veteran at keeping his dick locked in place if he were to feel some type of way about a purchase and the one purchasing. 

Shy as he was when he started, it’s all lost now as he handles dicks and dongs, pocket pussies and anal plugs, even whips and chains. 

Shy. That’s definitely a word and surprisingly one that can describe him when he’s not on schedule within these walls of alien dicks and lime flavored lube to match the grotesque green color. At his other job, because he works two, he takes the praise of being the charming yet timid man who shows up with pans of food for events. 

The guests seem to love him and many times during weddings and company parties he has been offered phone numbers or asked for one simply because he appears to be that of a friendly face with a kind sense of being. Someone you’d wanna bring home to mom, some might say. 

It’s a stark contrast of jobs, and somehow he’s managed to dodge knowing many of the people coming into his night job to shop for ways to fuck themselves. The rare time it had happened, he was thankful to have another person in the shop to ring them up. Keeping up with two jobs is hard, and keeping up with two personalities is even harder.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You hadn't thought of that guy from the sex shop even once until he showed his face at your family reunion. 

He noticed you before you managed to realize it was him though. Stealing looks in your direction as you chat with little cousins and elder aunts and uncles, mostly to double check in his brain if you’re really the girl who showed up and nonchalantly bought the newest dildo in stock. The fleshy colored one with rotating beads and a g-spot stimulator button. You know, the really fucking huge one. 

 Upon meeting his eye again for the first time, he could tell it really is you, simply because of the way you furrow your brow as you recognize him. 

Jay couldn’t help but smirk. He knew that eventually someone at an event would recognize him as their local sex-shop manager, he’s actually shocked it doesn’t happen more often. At least it’s you though, a woman who looks near his age and clearly has a very healthy relationship with her sexuality. So much so that you weren’t shy or nervous in buying the toy from him. Because it’s honestly pretty common to see someone nervous or uncomfortable while buying items far less telling than the one you bought.

His smirk doesn’t go unnoticed by you before you look away from him and focus your attention back to your family and by the time he’s prepared the food and is standing aside to explain what ingredients the dishes have, you’re walking up with your empty plate and an awkward glance. 

He follows you down the line of dishes, seemingly more interested in you than anyone else. You could argue it’s just an attempt to make you feel embarrassed, or perhaps even an attempt to ask you not to snitch on where else he works to make his money. 

“Do I know you from somewhere?” You ask, a knowing look telling him that you’re already very aware of that ‘somewhere’ you know him from. 

His pursed lips and snide hidden laugh at you is one thing, but the way he whispers to you over a pan of potato casserole is another. 

“I think you know who I am.” He says, crossing his arms as he leans back again with a flicker of a crooked grin. 

You leave it at that, looking him in the eye curiously and for some reason, smiling back at the strange second encounter with a man who appears to have a name tag now.

“Thanks, Jay. See you around.” 

Heading away from the tables of food and toward the table that contains all of your favorite cousins, you are immediately bombarded with a raised brow from one of them. Ah, nosy. 

“What was that about?” One of them leans over to ask, glancing at the man who is still overseeing the table of food and maintaining perfect temperatures. She doesn’t quite catch the way Jay’s eyes flicker back to you, over and over again, repeatedly. 

“Huh? He was just telling me what was in the potatoes.” 

She takes your answer as truth without issue, and the conversation falls away and into something else. College life, job life, family life. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Okay so, you’re trying to hear yourself out here. Are you somehow curious and interested in speaking with Jay? Yeah. Do you know why? Also yes. For one, he just sold you a fucking interesting sex toy last weekend in the most uncomfortable way possible, and now he’s here at your family reunion to remind you of what you do in your apartment when you’re alone. 

His personality seems different this time too. He wasn’t monotone, he was snide with you about knowing who you are. He probably thinks its funny that he ended up at your family reunion over any other event.

So yeah, maybe you find yourself going up to the table for seconds even though you’re no longer hungry. Maybe you definitely wait until no one else is at the table and he appears to be tidying up the space and wiping up spills before speaking to him again. 

“Just how many jobs do you have?” You ask in a sarcastic tone when you reach him, the table between the two of you creating a comfortable distance to poke and prod.

He jumps only slightly at your presence because he didn’t notice you walking up. The brief break he’s taken from stealing glances so he could actually do his jobs appears to be the time you feel the need to finally approach. Still, he’s smiling again, looking at you up and down. 

“Plenty. How much lube do you have left?” He answers before shooting back his own question and getting right to the point. 

You freeze in shock at his question, reminding yourself that his monotone voice from the late dildo purchase is no more and he now comes across as vibrant and charming to you. You check him out for a moment, taking mental notes of what may not or may not be to like about him. You can’t tell if it’s good news or bad news that you’re not finding anything to raise any red flags. 

He’s bold, confidence, charming, clearly has a decent work ethic– 

“I can’t imagine you have much left, that thing was a fucking monster. We have tons in stock if you wanna–” He pauses to cover his mouth, forgetting that he’s supposed to be timid and gentle during his day job. He’s not supposed to be himself.

You find yourself laughing though, leaning over the table and holding out your empty plate. Mostly just to get in closer to him without alerting your family of a new future husband or something. 

“Why are you so interested in my ‘fucking monster”’ dildos anyway?” You narrow your eyes. 

He pauses, easing up at the way you’re just as cheeky and playful as he is, despite being surrounded by your family. It’s mildly inappropriate, but it’s making his shift go by quickly. You’re making his shift enjoyable today, so he continues. 

“I think anyone would be interested, with all things considered.” He checks you out again with a brief pause, knowing the size of that dildo you bought by heart, and fully aware that it probably ripped you in half if you really managed to put that thing anywhere inside of you. “Correction, they should be worried.” 

“You’re different from before,” you comment, both of you now blatantly staring down each other. “I like this version of you more.” 

Something inside of him feels giddy at that. Not to be cliche but he wonders if this is what it’s like to instantly have a crush on someone. Again, he’s not one to lie to himself. You’re pretty and you appear to be confident. Confident enough to take time from your family reunion to have a discussion about your plastic cock intake anyway.

“Maybe I’ll see you again sometime then.” He puts a hand forward, inviting you to shake it but you simply stare it down instead.  

“Yeah, maybe you will.” You smile, slapping his hand as if you’re low fiving him before swirling around and walking away thinking hard about the fact that…yeah, he might actually see you sooner than he thinks. 

Honestly, maybe within the next day or two because he was kind of right to ask about how much lube you have left, but it’s not like you’d answer that truthfully if at all. You might be running out after just two uses. He was right again about it being a fucking monster, because well, yeah. Maybe you’ll pop in and shop for bulk lube instead of rejecting his up-sale this time. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Unfortunately for you upon the reunion coming to an end, you get into your car and of course it doesn’t start. You drop your head to the steering wheel in a sigh and annoyed grunt.

The last thing you need is your father driving you home because he will lecture you about your car and how it’s got to be some fault of your own for it to not start. And you know, yeah maybe it was your fault. Why were your lights turned on during a sunny Sunday afternoon? Fuck if you know. Why were they left on for the entire nine hours you’ve been here at your parent’s house? You refuse to answer your own question.

And just as you go to accept your defeat, preparing to head back inside and take the walk of shame ten minutes after saying your goodbyes, a savior appears. 

That savior is none other than Jay,  walking up with his stiff button down shirt partially unbuttoned, hair now disheveled as he must have ruffled it up after the day of work. He watched you from his catering van for just a few minutes before finally getting out to offer his expertise. 

“The battery is dead.” He smiles, slapping both palms on your hood and leaning to look at you through the windshield. 

“Smart man, can you un-dead my battery before my dad comes out?”

Jay shakes his head apologetically. 

“I already checked the van for the cables, could be a write up on my part for not checking before leaving. We are supposed to have all sorts of shit to prevent breakdowns on a job. Not today though, apparently.” He scratches the back of his neck as he walks to your opened car door. 

“If you can hang tight for like ten minutes I can swing by after dropping the van off.”

Your eyes plead with him. You’d prefer this, yes. If he’s willing to help, you’re willing to accept.

“You sure I’m not too out of the way for you to do that?”

He shakes his head nonchalantly, waving you off as he leans into your car to pull your keys out of the ignition. He smells like food, obviously he does, but there’s a scent of something else on him that’s far more attractive. The dull scent of cologne that matches him all too well. 

“Don’t try to turn it on anymore if you don’t want your dad coming out.” He laughs. “I’m sure he would help you but if you’d rather I help you, I am more than happy to do it.”

He’s teasing. His little crush pushes him to want to help you, but he’s gonna play it off as casually as possible. 

“I’ll hang out here. My dad would lecture the fuck out of me.”

Jay nods, backing away and heading back to his van to fulfill his offer.

On another note, you’re shocked that your father didn’t hear the commotion, and even more shocked that he didn’t step outside once since the reunion ended. He must have been tired, and you know him, he sleeps like a rock and probably already hit the sack without even cleaning up the yard.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Oh, it’s dead dead.” Jay looks at you apologetically, peeking his head out from the side of your hood and through your window. 

“Define dead dead.” You comment, taking your keys out of the ignition with a huff. 

“Like, you need a new battery. This one is done for.”

You sigh loudly, knowing that now you’ll have to go ask your parents for a ride home. Knowing that your dad is going to add more to his lectures with each day your car is sitting in this driveway. This is so fucking annoying. At least you work from home though, so it’s not like you’re gonna lose your job over this or anything. 

Jay unhooks the cables and turns off his car, then stands there and watches you for a moment. You look frustrated and annoyed, and it’s very much like him to offer more help. 

Of course it is. 

“Would it be too forward to ask if you need a ride home?” 

You look at him confused, tilting your head and studying his body language much like before. You’re not one to decline someone making your life a little bit easier, and he is interesting to talk to. You nod slowly, then pause.

“You’ve worked all day, don’t waste your off-time helping me out.”

“I’m already wasting my off time on you though, might as well let me drive you home too?”

You stare at him. 

“Okay.”

The awkward silence sets in shortly after you seat yourself in his car. You fill that silence with small sarcastic comments about said car though, and soon it becomes easy to be in the space with him.

“Where did this sticker come from?” You ask, poking your finger into a sticker with its edges rolled from the summer heat, probably.

“Ex girlfriend, I couldn’t get it off without it leaving a residue so I’m just letting the sun do its job and melt it off.”

“Oh, harsh.” You laugh, wanting to prod further. “Why’d you break up?”

Jay pauses, you can tell by the way his foot lets up from the gas momentarily that he wasn’t expecting you to ask that. Then again, he’s said some weird shit to you too, so you figure it’s not an end-all question. 

“Was that too forward to ask?” 

“Not at all, just wasn’t expecting it,” He shakes his head with a small smile, nearly reaching his hand from the wheel to pat your leg in reassurance. He holds back, wondering why the fuck that urge felt so normal for him to do. “It’s been like a year, so I’m over it and stuff. She just thought I worked too much and didn’t spend enough time with her.”

“Ouch, even harsher.” You smile in reassurance to him, also feeling it normal to want to do that for some reason. “Her loss, I mean, discounted dildos and food? Huge loss.”

He laughs at your comments, briefly looking over at you once he stops at a red light. Your eyes are shining with life, with interest even. At that moment, he feels something between the two of you. Which is quite strange considering this is your first time officially meeting him outside of his working hours. He can’t help the way his face softens though, it happens against his will, honestly, it does. 

“You’re kind of cute,” You blurt, breaking eye contact with him and shifting in your seat. “and fun to hang out with.” 

“Hang out?” He laughs at you, eyes now adjusting back to the road and lowering his speed just to have a bit more time with you. “This is hardly a hang-out, but if you’re interested, I’m more than willing to check my schedule to see when I’m free next.”

You feel confidence raise up in your chest, bubbling to be free in the form of a question likely too bold to actually consider.

“You’re free right now…right?” You comment quietly, glancing at him. 

“Hm?” He asks, tightening his grip on the steering wheel and feeling your eyes on him. He heard you, but he wouldn’t mind hearing you repeat it.

“I said, you’re free right now.” You repeat, this time with more confidence. “Would it be too forward to ask if –”

“Nothing is too forward to ask, I literally sold you a dildo.” 

You pause in shock, all thoughts leaving your head.

“Damn, alright,” You laugh, feeling kind of warm inside at how his forwardness matches your own. “If you’re free right now, we could hang out right now.” 

How lucky for both of you. He’s actually not catering tomorrow and only has to be at work at the good ol’ sex shop in the evening. 

“Alright,” He nods, glancing over to you. “Kind of fucked up we are hanging out after I met your entire family and still haven’t gotten a name from you yet though, wouldn’t you think?” 

Oh fuck, he’s right. 

“I’m sure you heard the kids yelling it all day. Don’t be dramatic.”

He laughs, already in love with the idea of spending more time with you. 

And you hear him echo your name, asking where it is that you’d like to go. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

If your parents were to ask why you’re walking through your apartment building with the caterer following behind you, you’d have no excuse. Then again, as an adult, you don’t think you need one. It’s strange despite how open and casual you are with making friends though, because you never just invite strangers to your place for friendship. At least, not without hanging out a few times first. 

You guess it’s not super awkward because it’s true that he already knows things about you that your family doesn’t. Such as, the things you penetrate yourself with when you’re alone. It’s a major ice breaker, and something that makes the friendship with him come easy even after barely talking to the guy.

The few words you have shared have been easy and fun, so it’s only natural that if your instinct is to want to be around him a little longer, you’d invite him in right? You weren’t really expecting him to accept your answer to his question. 

“Where to then?” 

You thought for a moment when he asked that. You don’t go to clubs or bars anymore, most places would have been closing within the hour, and it’s not like you didn’t eat to peak fullness during the family reunion so having a late dinner with him was out of the question too. You answered him so easily, and he accepted in a way that seemed just as natural to him. 

“We could just hang out at my place, I’ve got plenty of streaming services, a gaming system, and wine.”

“Sounds good.” 

It was so easy to become friends with him, and now with him following you up to your apartment, the typical awkwardness that should come with this type of thing isn’t swarming your mind at all. He’s even making small talk about the building itself after parking in your parking spot. 

“This building is way nicer than mine, you got a door code and everything just to get in.”

“Wasn’t always like this. Being a single woman in a city like this calls for safety measures though.”

A little box in his head checks out. He didn’t even have to ask if you’re single, because he already assumed you were with the way you so easily invited him over. And in all fairness, you’ve been trying to find a reason to slip in your relationship status to him. 

By the time you get to your door with him, he’s polite when he walks in and takes off his shoes. Polite in the way he looks around and studies your space, even polite in the way he walks into the living room and invites himself onto your couch and grabs your remote. 

“I was going to say make yourself comfortable but–”

“Well, would you prefer I sit on your floor?” He shoots back with a sarcastic tone in his voice. “Would you prefer I start digging through your cabinets for snacks? Would you prefer–”

“You’re so much more talkative when I’m not trying to buy something from you.” You comment with a laugh, dipping into the kitchen for two glasses and that cheap bottle of wine. 

“Speaking of, do you actually use that thing and like it? I mean, I see some weird purchases but that specific one is super popular with the fetish groups.”

For the first time, you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You should have known that the sex toy would be a point of conversation, considering the first time you ever met was buying it. 

“Yes, I use it. I’m surprised you find it shocking considering it’s literally your job to know what people like in terms of getting off.”

He smiles at that, because you’re damn right he knows. Most of the time he would prefer not to know, but he always did wonder if, on the off chance, he ended up hooking up with a customer he’d have some prior knowledge of how they like it based on toys alone. 

“You know, normally people don’t buy toys on a Monday at nine in the morning.” 

“I buy toys at nine in the morning on a Monday,” You chuckle, carrying the two glasses and wine into the living room and plopping down next to him. “Why does that matter? I’m sure you make your quotas even on the slow days considering how hard you were trying to up-sell me.”

He shrugs as he watches you pour him a glass. 

“It’s easy to up-sell when you know people’s kinks after a few purchases. I do that to everyone just to gauge what they need so if they come back I can make more offers.”

“A true salesman.” You laugh with a pitied voice. “What would you say my kink is?”

He studies you, looking you up and down without shame and thinking hard about your single purchase. 

“Well, considering that specific item is, again, usually looked at by a specific type of person or couple, I’d say–”

“Wrong.” You interrupt before he even tries to make a guess. “I don’t have a kink, I just have a really high sex drive.”

You take a sip at his silence of being beaten to the punch, and then he takes his own thoughtful sip. 

“Okay then, What do you think my kink is?” He asks slyly, cup still against his lips as he sips again. 

“Wha–” You narrow your eyes at him, trying not to stare at him for too long because goddamn is he handsome. “Hell if I know, you probably don’t even have sex after being in a hyper-sexualized space like that for hours on end.”

“Wrong.” He pokes his tongue into his cheek and looks away from you with another casual chuckle.

“Are you telling me you have a pocket pussy or like, a buttplug or something?”

“Three pocket pussies, actually.”

You don’t know why you’re shocked. For some reason his sex toys becoming the focus makes you feel more shy than your own being the focus. 

“I bet you named them.”

“Pocket 1, Pocket 2, and Jessica.”

“Jessica?” You raise a brow despite the sarcastic banter, wondering if maybe that’s based on his ex girlfriend or something. 

He nods in a matter-of-fact tone with a proud smile. 

You feel comfortable around him, never having a friend who openly talks to you about these things without any type of awkwardness. It’s the fact that he’s a man too. Usually they think with their dicks and he seems to have no qualms in admitting that it’s something he may do from time to time too. 

You imagine he needs this type of personality to work such a job though, being casual about sex can be so difficult for your average joe because for some reason, it is embarrassing. It’s hard to talk about even to sex-shop employees. You like to think he’s probably someone who makes others feel comfortable about their sexual habits though, because you feel comfortable. 

“I’m lying by the way.” He cuts through your thoughts, “I only have two.” 

You nod energetically with a laugh. 

“Variety is good.” You continue, not mentioning the array of toys you have stashed away. 

“Yeah, I think experimenting with different things is good. I only really liked the two I kept though, I guess.”

“And yet, you’re shocked about my single dildo purchase without knowing of my other items of interest? I could have just been trying something new too, y’know.”

Another sip of wine, and another glance away from him because you were looking a little too fondly at that little scar on his nose, the birth mark on his neck, the way his lips crease when he swallows his drink and– yeah, you definitely glance away.

“No one buys that as a first time experience.” He comments, tapping the cup against his lips and looking at you.

You’re a little stunned by him, never having met a man so open to speaking like this, with a woman he barely knows no less. 

“Okay, enough about my dildo. I actually have a question about something you might have in stock but I’ve kind of been too embarrassed to ask until now.”

He nods, his personality shifting only slightly into that as the manager of the sex-shop.

“Oh? Embarrassed? Since when?” He jokes at first. “What is it then?”

“Do you guys have like,” you pause, unsure of why you’re even trying to ask. Again, it’s not like masturbation is embarrassing, nor is the purchasing of toys. Asking for a specific item is a bit too intimate to you though, seeing as how you usually just buy those things online. “Okay hear me out.”

“Tentacles? Furry buttplugs with tails attached? Bondage rope? Paddles?”

“No…” You pause at his spewing of different types of toys. “I know you have all of that.”

He pauses, studying the way you make yourself a bit smaller compared to just minutes before.

“Do you guys have sex dolls for women? You know, like, just a doll with a very normal dick?”

Jay fucking snorts. How mundane. 

Unfortunately for you though, Nope. 

“Nah, the owner tries to cater more towards men and fetish stuff. We’ve got fem tantaly dolls and all sorts of blow up dolls but he’s never brought in just like, a torso with a cock, if that’s what you’re asking.”

You shrug. 

“Guess sticking it to the wall is all I can do for now then. But like,” You pause, realizing that you’re actually going into detail at this point, which might be a little uncomfortable for him? Maybe? “It’s really annoying to have it sticking to the floor, and you’re like, riding it and it just pops off and stabs your thigh slipping out mid-orgasm.”

He snorts again, that pretty smile you’ve seen time and time again echoing the most attractive laugh you think you’ve heard in a long time. This time, his smile doesn’t fade as the seconds pass, no. He’s unable to stop laughing at the image of whatever orgasm instilled the frustration in you to even mention that happening. He tries to stifle his laughter with the last sip of his wine before choking it down and pushing his glass at you for more. 

“Noted,” He snorts, nodding his head and almost hiding his face from you. “I’ll tell the boss we need male sex dolls so the women don’t get dick-stabbed where they don’t need it mid orgasm.”

You glare. 

“Wait, no, because it actually hurts.” You frown at him. “I just wish your shop catered a little more to women who just wanna ride a dick without the dangers of riding said dick.” 

“Maybe you should slow down next time so the full force of your–” He pauses, realizing how sexual the image in his head is of you right now. “Um…” He trails off uncomfortably, unintentionally adjusting himself in his jeans by spreading his legs slightly against your couch. 

“Okay, wait. I’m sorry, is this conversation too much right now?” You ask, looking him up and down and giving him a new glass of wine. “You’re blushing.”

He tries to play it off. 

“As if you could make me blush.” He laughs at you, downing half of his glass in one go. “To make up for our lack of product though, and if you don’t tell anyone, I’ll give you a discount on your next purchase just for embarrassing yourself telling me that.”

“Oh, I was supposed to be embarrassed?” You counter, knowing that all you need to do is point out that he got flustered to shut him up. You opt not to because still, the two of you barely know each other. Instead, you opt to laugh along with him, letting your gaze fall back to studying all of those features he has that you didn’t quite notice before.

While you did notice he was handsome before, it’s not like you paid that thought any mind. There are a lot of handsome men out and about after all. It only starts to matter when they allow you to get close enough to appreciate it more. Not to mention, in your experience at various sex shops, most employees of them are mundane and nonchalant. Some are strange old men, or cool old women. Jay though? Jay.

Hmm…how to explain him?

With his messy hair that covers his eyes every time he whips his head toward you in a laugh, with his sharp jawed smile and pretty eyes. The little marks and celestial kisses against his skin that shows you of a life he’s been living. He feels…warm. Like everything about him looks comforting, smells comforting, sounds comforting. And now, even compared to when you met him at the shop, even at the reunion just this afternoon…he’s so much more handsome in this moment. 

Learning his personality, hearing his voice say your name, having him take the time to not only help you but befriend you? 

His shoulders are broad, and he’s just… you don’t even know how to explain to yourself the attraction you have toward him at this moment. Handsome is one thing, and you would have continued calling him that if it weren’t for the fact that he’s laughing with you on your couch about a ruined orgasm. 

“You know, Jay,” You start, looking into your glass and swirling the liquid inside, then you look up again and make eye contact. “I’m really not usually this forward but like,”

His brain stops for a moment at the serious tone in your voice, his expression softens and you can tell he’s listening. 

“I know masturbation and stuff is normal, and like, you see and talk about these things all the time but I never really talk about it to other people, they always get weird about it.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I can’t say this is the most normal hang out I've ever had. Usually we talk about our favorite movies or books or something.”

You wave him off. 

“Yeah, that’s a good point. We could talk about our favorite movies but I find myself, um–” You stop for a second. 

“Is talking about it making you realize that it’s uncomfortable?” 

“No, the opposite actually.” You laugh, now actually feeling embarrassed. “I keep thinking about you mentioning the other things you’ve bought and experimented with.”

“Oh? You’re curious?” He laughs, now feeling a bit shy himself because he’s pretty sure that’s you asking him to put images in your head. “I mean I could go into detail but it actually might be too-telling right now.”

You nod, unsure of why you even suggested.

“Maybe next time?” You change the subject with a smile, one that does seem slightly disappointed. 

“There’s a next time?” He smiles, setting his glass down on your table and shifting toward you.

“I don’t see why not? I’m having fun, plus you offered me a discount.”

He nods, looking around the room and checking the time. 

“I should probably head out then? We’ve both had a long day.” 

You nod back to him, feeling a bit sad. 

“When are you free next?” You ask, grabbing your phone in a way that seems a bit too excited. “Can you give me your number?”

He obliges, exchanging phone numbers and promising to contact you with his next free day or night to hang out. Just as he goes to leave though, for some reason both of you feel as though the satisfaction of this hang out wasn’t reaching full potential. 

“Hey, um,” He stops before he puts his shoes back on. “Would it be too forward to say I’m not tired and wouldn’t mind–”

“Staying for a bit longer?” You finish his sentence for him, patting the couch as if that was also on your mind.

He doesn’t even respond, and instead makes his way back onto the couch where the cushion is still warm, unable to help the fluttering feeling in his chest.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It's almost two in the morning by the time he offers to leave again, and yet, he stays at your clear disappointment of the offer. Another hour later, the two of you are sitting contently and pretending to watch some shitty tv show in comfortable silence. 

“We should say something.” He blurts, mid episode.

“What do you mean?”

He turns toward you. 

“We should talk about this.” He motions at the space between the two of you. 

You’re silent while you try to build up the confidence to meet him half-way again. 

“You can correct me if you’re not interested but I actually really would like it if you kissed me or something.” He adds as you continue to process what he seems to be getting at.

You’re taken aback by his forwardness for some reason, and instantly you knew he didn’t communicate this earlier for your own sake. Thankfully, you’ve tried to make it easy for him to read you and he ate it up like his favorite meal. The content feeling between the two of you was buzzing up to this point. Very loudly in your brain where you were thinking of how to kiss him before the night is up. Even as just a “thank you” if he were to turn away from it. 

“Oh yeah?” You ask, tilting your head and seeing him scoot closer. “Kiss you, or something?”

He nods his head, looking at you without much issue and searching for a reaction. 

“Are you interested in me like that, in any way?” He asks, looking for confirmation.

“Oh, most definitely.”

The smile that spreads across his face is one that you can argue will be unforgettable. It’s an expression you hope to bring to every person in your life, one that seems to express nothing but relief, excitement, and maybe even a hint of bashfulness.

“You thought I'd invite you inside without being interested?” You smile at him, feeling a little bit fuzzy in the head at the admittance. 

“I thought you were just being nice, or like, just interested in friendship,” He rambles on, stopping himself short to give more context to that statement. “I mean, it would be fine if this was all for friendship and I'm happy with that too but I can admit to coming into your apartment with maybe, uh, a small crush.” 

“I can admit to inviting you in with a small crush, maybe.” 

“Maybe.”

“Are we being too forward?” You ask, emphasizing the repetitive way that word seems to appear. “Even though you’re in my apartment at an ungodly hour and both of us are giving any and every excuse to keep you here?”

He smiles this time in a way that appears to be self-soothing, and you can imagine you are too. It’s always nerve-wracking to walk on eggshells with another person, the threat of wondering if you'll fall alone or fall with them into a new version of partnership. 

You don’t think about the lack of knowing him past a purchase, a quick conversation at a family reunion, or the past several hours he’s huddled up with you on this couch. You simply don’t think it’s strange at this point. After all, you’ve met people online and invited them over without much more than a name, age, and quick conversation about what they want sexually. How is this worse? How is this strange? 

“You’re right. Maybe we should stop being so polite when the reality of it is that I’ve been imagining what you’ve done with that toy since the day you bought it.” 

Okay, maybe that was too forward but all is lost now as your image of him changes drastically within the mere seconds it took him to say that, not in a bad way either. Again, of course he’s comfortable admitting it, the dude stares at dicks and holes all day. But now he’s staring at you, and talking directly to you.

Your silence makes him shift a bit, shaking his head apologetically. 

“Found the boundary, got it.” He shames himself with a timid voice, looking away from you and back to the tv with a hint of embarrassment. “I’m not lying though.” He adds after a few more minutes of your silence.

“Not much of a boundary if I admit that I was blatantly asking you earlier what you’ve done to experiment with your toys.”

“Aha! So I was right in thinking you were straight up asking for mind-porn of me?!” He feels instantly comfortable again, turning his entire body toward you as he folds up one of his legs to sit on with a little bounce. 

“Maybe, but what do you mean you’ve been imagining since I bought it? You barely made eye contact with me that day.”

“Oh, I was checking you out the whole time you shopped. Imagine my face when I knew exactly what toy you were reaching for.”

You shove him by the shoulder with a laugh, realizing that this is the first bodily contact you’ve ever had with him, but he actually leans into your shove rather than out of it. Meaning, he barely budges. 

“If I looked you in the eye at the register, you would have thought I was some pervert.” 

“You are a pervert. You said it had, what? Twelve other colors?” 

He shrugs with a pained smile at how cringe he must have sounded to you. 

“You seemed more like a sparkly pink girl rather than a normal flesh tone girl. Then again, this was before I knew you were looking for a literal male sex doll for super normal pretend-sex.”

You shove him again, your laugh coming out more forced now at the way he jokes with you. Once again, he doesn’t budge. In fact, he’s leaning in closer. 

“Now hold on, you didn’t mention anything about one having glitter in it.” You joke, wiggling your brows. 

“You trying to fuck a man or a magic unicorn?” He laughs yet again, all of it coming out more forced as the two of you drag out information just to hear the dirty words in a voice you’re only just realizing you like far too much. 

“A man.” You dead-pan, this time not laughing, looking him dead in the eye and trying to pretend you don’t notice how close the two of you have gotten. “Why else would I go for more human skin tones?”

“Fuck if I know, I haven’t met a single man who has vibration settings or rolling beads though.” 

You snort. 

“Shame…but also, why do you think I’m on the hunt for the most mundane sex toy a woman can buy now? The rolling beads almost had me passing out.” 

“Was it too much?” He asks seriously, hoping to god it was. 

“A little bit, yeah.”

“I can imagine you want something to feel real after that.”

For some reason, his words hit you straight in the gut. Your stomach drops as your attraction heightens, and suddenly you’re just staring at him as you respond. 

“I can imagine so, yeah.” 

He stares back, almost no space between the two of you as the banter only brought you both mentally and physically as close as possible without becoming twisted together. 

“When was the last time you felt something real?” He asks against his better judgment, wondering if you’re on the same page with him. Wondering if all this banter was leading to somewhere or nowhere. Because he could have sworn admitting to wanting you to kiss him, and you’ve yet to do so. 

“A month and a half.” You respond dryly, suddenly needing something to drink. 

He glances down at your neck when you swallow around your words, then stares at your lips before breathing in a sigh. One that was supposed to relieve the tension in this moment, but only building it more because he knows you see him do it. He knows you see him wet his bottom lip too.

“Are you going to kiss me, or are you planning to wait another month and a half to get what you want?” He continues on his streak of boldness as if to distract you from noticing the sexual tension, feeling his heart skip beats at the intensity of the moment. 

“It’s not like we have anything better to do.” You start, leaning in and still looking straight into his eyes.

“Are you suggesting that I’m boring?” He narrows his eyes as he feels your breath against his lips, still sweet from the wine that did close to nothing in terms of altering the brain. The two of you are totally planted into reality, if anything, a little drunk on the other. 

“Not at all.” You adjust your words from earlier, there, hovering just over his lips. “I’m just saying that nothing is more interesting than kissing you right now.”

Oh, the fluttering in his belly is so fucking intense right now. No eighteen inch alien tentacle dildo on a shelf could scare him as much as you do at this moment. Intimidatingly outspoken and aware of your wants and needs. His eyelashes flutter just like his stomach does, closing them slowly until he can feel your lips on his. 

Your stomach, on the other hand, has been doing flips since the first instance he admitted to wanting to stay. All of the tension, all of the comfortable silence, all of the glances, the smiles, the laughing, all of it was leading up to this. The moment your lips hit his, they feel much like you imagined they would. 

Soft, plush, warm. The thin lipped grins he’s given you all day now laying flat against your own lips, no longer grinning, now just wanting. And he’s gentle, so fucking gentle with it. Never has a man asked you to kiss him. Usually they close the gap to try and swoon you. It appears you’re both being swooned by each other at the moment though, and his soft kiss only pulls back momentarily before he leans forward, closer.

The third touch, save for you shoving him, his lips on yours, and now…his hand on your cheek. Caressing so gently as he deepens the kiss with ease. The heat rises up and through your skin at the simple touch. You think he must feel it with the way he chuckles into the kiss and starts peppering them against your lips over and over again. A split second between each lay of his lips, and then another solid kiss. One where you finally start moving yours too.

It’s slow and languid in the way he kisses you like this, barely even darting his tongue out but focusing more on your cheek against his palm. He can feel your jaw move as you kiss and can’t help but love what’s happening, and when you’re the one to lick against his lower lip, he falls in so easily. 

That little movement from you, that little feeling of your tongue experimentally prodding his lips open releases the last bit of tension holding him back. He pulls back to look at you and you’re not backing down even slightly. 

“Does this feel more real for you?” He asks in a snide way, swiping your bottom lip with his thumb of the glistening saliva before tilting his head with a smile. 

You very nearly roll your eyes at him for that. And by very nearly, you do roll your eyes at him and can’t help but smile yet again. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” He says, palm still against your cheek, tips of his fingers toying with the baby hairs on your hair-line. “because I can imagine that the toy couldn’t ki-”

You shoot forward to kiss him again, only just realizing how awkward the positioning is considering neither of you were probably expecting more than a first kiss. 

He laughs into it, knowing you were silencing him of something that could arguably be the most cringe-worthy thing he can say after kissing you. His laughs start to stifle though, as you press forward and somehow manage to have his back against the seat of the couch and you planting yourself on top of him. 

“Can you shut up about the toy now? I thought we got past that,” You argue as you pull back, your cheek already missing the feeling of his palm against it. “You can’t just act like this and then say some dumb shit like that.”

You’re joking, he knows it. If anything, you’re complimenting him right now and he eats it the fuck up as he stares up at you. 

“Was I wrong though?” 

You take a moment to look at him, realizing that this is the man who you just kissed. With his hair a mess and fanned out on the cushions, strands falling in front of his eyes, but mostly swept back and exposing the entirety of his forehead to you. 

You reach forward and brush a strand from his eyes. 

“Actually, say whatever you want.” You correct yourself and manage to ignore his question.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” He half-chuckles as he brings his hands up to sit against your waist, hoping you don’t pull out of the intimate position the two of you are in. 

“I don’t know, I was just looking at you and thought it would be stupid for me to try to argue with you right now.”

“Why’s that?” He prods for more compliments, feeling himself twitch at the way you look hovering over him. 

“Are you trying to argue right now?” You tilt your head, adjusting yourself now to sit directly on his thighs and lay forward, both hands cushioning your chin on his chest as you straddle him. 

“Would it be so wrong to admit that you’re fun when you argue with me?” 

You can feel him breathe under you, nearly rocking you further and further into whatever headspace Jay seems to put you in. It’s too comfortable, and it almost feels as though you’ve been with him for years now. You barely know him, yet you’re lying on him as if you got married two years ago. Insane how this works. How the heart works, or the brain, or whatever drives the arousal you’re feeling right now. 

“Will you argue if I ask to show you my room?” You start, lifting back up and away from his chest, now scooting forward a bit. You don’t dare sit on it yet, but you very much would like to if he were to suggest not moving at all from this couch. “My bed.”

He stutters and quickly quiets his excited words, replacing his voice with a nod and a sharp inhale.

“Hah! Telling me to argue and instantly buckling the second I mention my bed.” You laugh, pulling yourself up and sauntering out of his view.

He stares at the ceiling for a moment, in a daze over just how much he likes you. He wonders, would you be shocked to know he hasn’t had sex in much longer compared to you? One and a half months for you? That’s nothing to him. He’s been besties with his right hand for at least six months by now. Trust him when he says that it truly was difficult to not turn into a hormonal idiot when he saw you in the shop that day. 

Finally, he shakes himself out of the spaced out horny brain staring at your ceiling and stands to his feet. He’s quick to adjust the bulge in his jeans, uncomfortably shaking his leg before looking toward where you walked off to.

“Um.” He stops, realizing you were watching him, looking directly at the spot he just adjusted. “I mean,” He tries to start again, adjusting again as he feels it slowly move out from its tucked place. “Listen,”

“No, I get it.” You say, snickering at his embarrassment as if he somehow doesn’t know you were suggesting at least some foreplay by moving to your room.

“Of course you do,” He drops his head, now blatantly shoving his hands down his pants to adjust before looking back up and taking a step forward. “You’re the one who sat on me like that.”

“Please, I didn’t even sit on it.” 

“Didn’t need to.” He shrugs, now coming up to you and waiting for you to guide him through your space and into your room. 

Once the two of you get there, him not even attempting to hide that he is very aroused at this moment, you’re very quick to turn and face him once he comes inside. 

“We are on the same page, right?” You ask, looking at his lips and the way they still look so kissable. 

“As far as I know, with all things considered.” He responds, looking down at himself and how pathetic he must seem in getting so aroused by nothing more than a kiss and a position change. 

You smile, reaching for his hand and watching him tumble forward to you. Now standing mere inches in front of you. 

“Do you want to see it?” You ask, a cheeky smirk on your face as you turn away from him and run to your bedside table. 

He has no idea what the fuck you’re referring to until he sees it. There, in all of its non-human glory. Jay ticks his tongue, curiously straining his neck out to peek at what else is in your drawer as he walks closer. 

You make no attempt to close the drawer and instead pull out another one, and another one, another one.

“If you keep pulling out toys I’ll start to think you were lying in saying you wanted to feel something more, um–”

“Real?” You say, turning from your presented line-up of toys to look at him. 

He nods, gazing over the toys, four dildos all far bigger than he is. 

“I can admit that men can’t vibrate, nor do they have those little rotating beats but,” You chuckle at the conversation, scooping the toys up quicker than you laid them out and tossing them back into the drawer. “They’re not warm, or attached to someone that can kiss me. They’re also not witty.”

You study his expression.

“They don’t make me laugh before getting me off.” You continue, wondering if you may actually be too forward about this now. 

He’s rendered a bit speechless, which is rare for him in any given situation. He always has a quick response, not at this moment though as he looks at you. He wonders if you pity that obvious act of self-doubt upon seeing your toys. 

“They’re not attached to you.” You add, this time stifling your chuckle, because it’s a pretty funny conversation if you look at it from the outside but you can imagine he must be feeling some type of way to be so quiet.

He thinks hard about it, knowing damn well where this was leading and pushing for it himself. Hearing you now though, so confidently say these things, all doubt erases from his mind. 

“Before we do anything,” he starts, his shaky voice coming out more confident as he continues. “Is this just a hook-up to you or are you feeling the way I’m feeling right now?”

You look at him with a question in your eyes. He was kind of shocked that you didn’t finish for him this time, actually. 

“Like, you know if we do this, I’m going to be calling to take you out to dinner at some point unless you say you don’t want me to, right?”

You hadn’t thought of anything past him since you’ve gotten here. You didn’t think about anything more than hanging out with him, and now, kissing him, and maybe you know, feeling him. For some reason though, despite the lack of sex you’ve had lately, him saying that only arouses you more. It’s been so long since you’ve intended to sleep with someone and have them want to stick around after. Some of the people you’ve been with didn’t even ask for your number. Is this what adult relationships are actually like? 

“As in, you’d want to see where this goes in the–”

“Future, yes. I’m not just going to fuck you and pretend I didn’t when I see you again.”

Shockingly, that’s a first for you and you like the feeling it gives you. Plus, him implying that he’s about to, or very willing to, fuck you sends a wave of fondness through you.

“Alright. Let’s not call it a hook up then.” You say, the playful arousal from before stifling out at the idea of being intimate with someone who is making you aware that you’ll see him again, now being replaced with…feelings? Arousal with feelings?

“What should we call it?” 

“A date?” You say back immediately, sitting on your bed and finally closing your bedside drawer. 

“Oh, you fuck on the first date?” 

You laugh at how quickly his wit comes back, especially with the way he crowds up and stands in front of you. 

“With you? Looks like it.” You smile wide for him, feeling the tension bleed away and replace itself again with the arousal of him standing and looking down at you. 

“How did we not meet earlier?” He asks, leaning down a bit as if to kiss you.

“Fuck if I know, I bought all of those toys at your shop.”

“Ah, right. Nine in the morning on a Monday. I don’t usually work mornings.”

“Guess I got lucky last time then.”

“I guess you did.” He adds like a period to a sentence, finally kissing you again and making no effort to hide the fact that he’s attempting to lay you down much like you did to him before. 

You let him, falling back on your bed and feeling him nudge your legs to spread. Again, you let him, feeling your heart begin to race with excitement in the way he kisses you now versus how he did it earlier. 

There is clear intent behind it this time, as he positions himself between your legs. Your heart only races faster when one of his hands slides down your arm and he tangles his fingers with yours. It’s all very intimate to be coming from a man you officially met today, but you really do feel lucky. 

Lucky that he works two jobs, lucky that your family throws lame ass reunions every five years, lucky that you left your headlights on during a sunny sunday afternoon, lucky that your battery died. 

It’s so normal already to smile into the kiss and feel giddy inside. Never have you smiled into a kiss save for laughing when a leg cramp happens mid-fuck. You can’t believe how much you’ve smiled and laughed today, and you can’t believe he’s making you react this way just by holding your fucking hand and kissing you this way. 

He laughs when you react though, probably feeling at ease on your bed with you under him, squeezing your fingers tightly each time he licks against your tongue. And when he pulls back to breathe, you just look at him and the way his hair hangs in front of his eyes. He looks so pretty at this angle, even when he’s moving slowly, even when his other hand remains planted beside your head to hold his weight from falling onto you. 

It’s not been since highschool that you’ve laid with someone simply making out, fully clothed, giggling. You’re unsure of how he’s pulled this out of you, because usually when a man is on top of you, you’re already trying to get his clothes off. But this? This is something that you want to last. You want it to be slower than a usual fuck, because you like when he’s here with you. Whether on top of you or not, there was a reason he’s stayed this late already and you already know it wasn’t solely to fuck you.

“Did you expect to be on top of me someday?” You ask between kisses, and he takes that as an invitation to laugh against your neck and tickle your cheek with his messy hair. 

“Expect it? No,” He starts, leaving a kiss just under your ear before lowering his lips to the collar of your shirt and kissing there too. “Hoped I could, though.” 

Your heart swells up at that. You realized he must have meant it when he admitted to having a small crush on you. Only now do you realize that the curiosity that brought you back up to the food-table during the reunion may have been the start of a crush on your end too. 

You don’t say anything more after that and instead fall into the feeling of his lips kissing along your collar. For some reason the sensation of his lips pushing the fabric out of the way so he can kiss new exposed skin makes you feel incredibly wanted. Maybe it’s the pace, or maybe it’s just because you really really like him, and want him to want you. 

“Do you want to take it off?” You ask after a few more of his kisses, wanting to control yourself but also very much wanting to feel his lips everywhere else too. 

You can feel him nod in the form of his hair tickling your cheek more. But he doesn’t move from that spot at first, continuing to kiss you the same way and in the same places. You let him, up until he finally sighs and pulls back. 

Looking at him now, even compared to a few moments ago, he looks even more pretty. His eyes are now soft, you can almost see the lines from where he’s smiled for you all day. His lips, looking more kissable than they did the past two times you thought they looked as kissable as they ever could. His eyebrows, showing no signs of tension but permanently arched in a way that makes him appear constantly moody. 

You’re staring and you’re not intending to hide it. Even as he lifts your shirt from your waist and starts to pull it up. You barely budge as you stare, and stare, until you can’t because he’s trying to pull your shirt over your head.

“If you’d stop staring for two seconds maybe I could get this off of you–” He smiles knowingly, finally pulling it off when you arch your back and then prop yourself up slightly with your hands. “There.”

He sighs when he says it, going silent and almost frozen at the image of your nearly-naked torso. You watch him stare now, a smirk forming all too quickly.

“Now look who’s staring.” You chuckle, noting that his eyes still don’t leave the newly exposed skin or the fabric of your bra.

“Yeah, I am.” He admits, wetting his lower lip again and then flicking his eyes to you. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Suddenly, that eye contact makes you feel shy. You’re more naked than he is, despite mostly being dressed still.

“You know,” you start, avoiding his intense eye contact just to get the words out. “If we just take all of our clothes off now, it would probably be easier.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle at you but nods, already lifting his shirt off and going for his zipper and button.

“There’s no rush, but if you’d prefer we do,” He scoots back and away from you, standing to his feet to shove his jeans down his legs. “I don’t mind.”

You watch him undress and lose all ability to act on your own for a solid thirty seconds before you finally start panic-shimming the rest of your clothing off. Save for bra and panties, and he, now standing there clad in only a pair of form-fitting briefs. 

You’re glad he isn’t as shy as you at this moment though, or rather, he appears to be entirely infatuated with your body and doesn’t look away from it for even a moment to feel embarrassed himself at standing on the side of your bed nearly nude. 

“No rush?” You ask, when he finally trails his eyes up to you and takes his position between your legs from earlier. Except now, you can see his biceps and the way they flex, now, you can feel the immense amount of warmth radiating from him. Now, his hair is even more of a mess.

“I can try,” He says quietly, balancing on one hand and lowering his lips to yours once more, trying to ignore how dangerously close his length is to bumping against your core. “No promises now, though.”

You smirk, wondering where he lost his self control within that short span of time where you got undressed. He cuts your chuckle off mid-way though, now kissing you again and moving his hand up and down your waist. It tickles and causes goosebumps to form all over you, to the point that you can’t help but sigh into his kiss. 

He continues, still holding his hips back from grinding against you, kissing you as good as he can until trailing back to your neck again. 

It’s not until you run your fingers through his hair that he sighs himself. That relief and heavenly feeling of your fingers scraping the back of his neck— such a simple touch can literally send him straight to hell at this point and he wouldn’t care a single bit as long as it’s from you and your hands. 

He lowers himself more, just to prevent his hips from intruding into this moment only to lock his lips onto the mound of your breast, other hand lowering so he can lay down and push your bra to the side a bit. 

The cold air that hits your nipple is short-lived when you feel him immediately suck it into his mouth with a deep breath. You continue to scratch through his hair, now using your other hand to nearly hug his head in place as you feel the sensations shoot straight between your legs. Each flick of his tongue sends signals to your brain to go! go! go! But much like him, you hold back, even though your legs still manage to squeeze his body between yours in an attempt to find the friction he isn’t yet offering. 

He continues this for a few minutes, and then works his fingers under the bra on the other side of your chest before switching his lips to that one. Perking them up so perfectly that he can graze his teeth against either nipple and feel your legs react to it. All of it is turning him on beyond belief, it’s dangerously attractive to him now too, to know that you have several toys that could have already gotten you off by now, but you choose this. You choose his lips playing with your tits, and your legs doing an amazing job of showing him your lack of control. After all, toys can’t give you the foreplay that he can.

His lips continue their work, up until he’s trailing further and further down, making your sighs hitch higher and higher in pitch. He kisses your waist, just above your belly button, then just below your belly button before leaning back.

There, he looks directly at the seat of your panties and smiles at the wet spot there. He plants a kiss right in the center of your mess  before climbing back up and caressing your cheek again. 

“You’re wet.” He comments in a huskier voice than he normally uses, balancing yet again on his other arm.

Goddamn, if this is how he sounds when he’s with a girl then you feel more lucky than before. You can’t imagine the amount of women who have fallen completely in love with this guy. And, before you can actually respond to him with another cheeky comment, his hand on your cheek disappears and is instantly between your legs, cupping you there and even scooting you up the bed with the force of how he grabs you.

You hitch out a sigh and look at him with a smile.

“Obviously.” You say back, rolling your eyes playfully before unintentionally bucking your hips into the pressure his palm offers against your clit. 

“Cute too.” He adds, lifting his palm to run his fingers up the wet spot on your panties before pressing in slightly. 

You can feel the fabric stick to you uncomfortably, but it still feels so fucking good. Any amount of touching from him feels good, if you’re being honest. 

“And you’re teasing me.” You argue, looking away from his smirk as he plays with the wet fabric against his fingers. 

“Just ask. I’m not teasing you if you're not telling me what you want.” 

You shoot your eyes back to him, a mixture of curiosity and shock in your eyes. It’s true though, you are a little shocked. Most men really just do what they want, and so do you. Never have you been asked what you want. 

Your eyes trail down as far as they can, what his hand is doing is mostly hidden between your legs but you focus entirely on the way his arms flex as his fingers travel up and down your panties. 

“You want me to ask?” You question, hips bucking up again unintentionally. 

“Not so much ask, but like, tell me what you want.”

He nods to himself as he says it, licking his bottom lip and pressing the fabric of your panties in yet again. 

It’s not that he doesn’t want to do what he wants right now though, definitely not. He just figures you know your body far better than he does, and he’d rather not make assumptions and embarrass himself when you could just ask him or better, guide him. Who is he to assume you want his fingers right now anyway?

“I’ve never…” You start, swallowing your words as your brain goes back to focusing on his fingers momentarily. “I haven’t–”

He knows what you’re trying to say, so he attempts to make it a bit easier for you. 

“Do you want me to pull your panties to the side?” 

You sigh with a nod, looking at him and allowing him to guide you through telling him what you want.

“Do you want me to touch you?” 

You nod again, pushing your head back against the mattress out of frustration that you, for some reason, can’t find the words to just tell him yourself. 

He listens to your body though, more than your weak nods and frustrated sighs. The way your legs shake when he asks, the way you react to the air hitting your folds when he does push your panties to the side. He can’t bear to look down yet though, because he knows for a fact that if he were to pull back and look at you in full, he’d no longer be asking you what you want. He’d be embarrassing for sure. 

You can feel his fingers now sliding through your folds though, bare pussy out and on display but not yet being looked at, only being felt. And arguably, all you can do right now is feel too, as he leans forward to kiss you in this silent moment. 

His fingers continue to explore as he kisses you, collecting all of your arousal and swirling it around your clit before sliding back down and prodding at your entrance. You make a sound at that, kissing him a little harder than before when he lets out a hum.

“Hm?” He hums against your lips, and you nod to him. 

There, he dips a finger in only slightly. Your arms reach around his neck at the feeling and pull him closer to you. To the point that you can feel him struggle to angle his hands right to slide in deeper, but you pay no mind to it. At least not until you kiss the fucking daylights out of him.

That, you do. Kissing him with full-force and making a show of how turned on you are for him. He feels it, with or without your kiss bruising him. The wetness on the tip of his finger only becomes wetter, and when you release your grip around his neck, he still doesn’t leave the kiss.

He goes back to gently kissing you, focusing more on his fingers than what his tongue is doing. He slides that same finger in all the way now, feeling your walls clench almost instantly and beg for more. Chuckling at the feeling, he fucks his finger into you experimentally before pulling them out and adjusting two fingers at your entrance. 

“Hm?” He hums again, and you nod again.

So, two fingers slide in and you’re releasing a soft moan against his lips. Already out of breath from focusing so hard on how he feels when he touches you. Your lips fall slack just to catch that lost breath, and he doesn’t argue, going right back to that spot on your neck to kiss as he picks up rhythm with his fingers. Effectively fucking you open with them as you cling to him.

You hate to say you didn’t pay much attention to his hands until now. Having not noticed how deep just those two digits reach inside of you, and good fucking lord does he know how to use them too. Curling them up at just the right moment to have your legs shaking. 

Never have your legs fucking shook for a man. This only happens with the g-spot stimulating toys. God, you open your eyes to look at the ceiling in thought, and it has you wondering if he even knows he’s doing it. 

“Keep doing that–” you urge him, and he hums at you finally at least trying to tell him what you want. 

He finally lifts from your neck to look at you, now placing his weight back on that one free arm that had been toying with the ends of your hair this entire time, and he’s fucking floored. Even if he pictured you before with those toys, none of those images came close to this. And it’s just his fingers? No where near the size of your toys, no where near as expensive, or warm…or alive.

Oh. You want to feel someone who wants you. 

“I’ll do anything you want.” He says, doing exactly as you asked except a little faster, still hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly that you’re moaning out now. 

He tunes in entirely to the sounds you’re making, the faces you’re making, and the way your pussy clenches around just those two fingers. He is aching at this point, pulling back from hovering over you to sit now between your legs, fingers still keeping pace, and sliding his other hand down his briefs. 

You don’t notice at first, too enthralled by the feeling of his curling fingers inside of you, but when you do–

“God,” You moan, rolling your eyes at the image of him out of breath, both hands working to pleasure both of you. “Come here.”

He listens, already pulling his hand away from himself but keeping his fingers in you, in a daze as he takes his original position of hovering over you.

“No, I mean, come here.” You say, looking at him as you reach between your bodies and pull his fingers out of you, then reach to grab between his legs. 

He immediately moans at the feeling, his hips pressing harshly into your grip with a whine as he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes just to feel it. 

“Pull it out.” You continue, slowly becoming more and more comfortable telling him what you want. 

Just watching him do what you ask is insanely hot. The way he pulls his cock out seems so natural to him, you suddenly imagine what he must look like all alone while getting himself off. Thankfully though, he’s not all alone right now, he’s with you, and you intend to be getting him off. 

You look at him, between his legs, and then back at him once more before grabbing it again and practically pulling his hips to you by the cock. He groans all the same at it though, and only holds his breath when he feels your legs spread further and essentially press his cock between your folds and hold it there from the head. 

“Grind.” You say, still holding your hand in place to keep the pressure against him, which also puts pressure against your clit when he does grind up.

You both shiver at it, and he still looks down at you, fucking smiling through his sighs of relief regarding the new sensations you’re offering. 

“You’re actually fucking perfect.” He compliments, fucking his hips up and coating his cock with the dripping of your needy cunt. 

Out of everything he’s ever said to you up to this point, out of everything he’s fucking done to you, that’s the one thing that has you spiralling into a world of fire. It makes you feel so warm, especially with the head of his cock bumping your clit. He has barely gotten any friction and he is still calling you perfect? Sign you the fuck up, forever, actually. 

“Don’t be stupid,” You start, waving him off between moans and gripping his shoulders.

He grinds up harder at your words though, now propping himself up on his elbows and grabbing your face on both sides. 

“You, don’t be stupid.” He says clearly, pointing his thrusts directly at your clit and moaning only slightly as he looks at you.

You swear, at that moment he could see your entire life. Everything about you. Everything you love and hate. The way he doesn’t look through you but at you? 

“You’re actually insane.” You laugh, crumbling to his pointed gaze and thrusts, your legs automatically shooting up to wrap around his waist. 

He seems proud of being called insane right now. Mostly because he can come up with at least fifty reasons as to why this is anything but insanity, but he remains quiet at the feeling of your legs squeezing around him. 

Such a girl was looking for mundane sex toys to have normal sex with? Lucky you, this is his fucking favorite. Plain ‘ol missionary? Check. Legs squeezing around him, almost pulling him in? Check. Looking directly at the face of the person he wants to make feel good? Check. 

You barely notice his lack of control by this point, the closeness alone feels like you’re already having sex but you realize you’re entirely empty still. This is fine though, until it’s not.

When does it not become fine? When his confident moans turn to soft sighs, and you notice his arms shaking a bit to hold his weight above you, and when his eyes go dead staring at you. You can tell he’s focused entirely on the feeling between the two of you, doing nothing more than aggressive yet…weak grinds? 

“Jay,” You say, slightly out of breath. 

“Hm?” He responds half-heartedly, releasing his weight from one elbow and dropping his head between your neck and shoulder.

“Fuck me.”

It’s like you can feel the switch in his head go from losing sanity to gaining it back in an instant at those words. He felt like he was pleasuring himself against you for so long, with so much friction between your hand and his abdomen constantly pressing into it. He could have gotten off from this, if you wanted him to anyway. It would have been an intense orgasm after working up for so long too, but now? 

He doesn’t even say anything, he doesn’t even move his head from between your neck and shoulder. Instead, you feel him expertly adjust his hips and press in without much trouble. He finds exactly where he belongs so fucking fast that is has you spinning and clenching immediately. 

“Shit,” He drones out with a long sigh, slowly sinking his cock into you. “You’re throbbing.” 

You chuckle, because yeah. You definitely are, but so is he. You can feel his thick length spreading you open inch by inch, until he’s fully planted into you and twitching. Then he doesn’t move again.

“This alone could do me in,” He chuckles against your neck, breathing in a deep sigh and attaching his teeth to your lower ear lobe. “Honestly, I can't believe I didn’t already cum  just from having my fingers in you.”

You’re both flattered and shocked by this comment, before you can even think to respond he’s talking again.

“You’re so tight, so wet.” He soothes himself through the feeling of your walls clenching around him by explaining how good your pussy feels, not yet wanting to move and just wanting to feel what your body does to him on its own. “It’s so hard not to move right now.”

“Please,” You manage to get out, struggling to focus on just one thing with the way he’s talking and the way he sits so perfectly inside of you. “Please, move.”

And he does, instantly. Pulling out and sliding back in so easily that the slapping sound is muted entirely by the matching moan you both release. You can feel his voice vibrating against your neck, and you can imagine he might be able to feel yours through your pulsing walls, because it feels like every sound, touch, and sensation is sent straight there for him to enjoy. 

It doesn’t stop either. Both of you shamelessly moaning at the feeling of him snapping his hips into you at perfect speed, with a perfect voice, and a perfect hand moving up to grip your chest. 

He’s practically blanketing you with his body, your legs holding him in this spot, his hair still finding a way to tickle your cheek with each thrust in. It’s so fucking much. It’s so good, and so…comfortable.

You’re comfortable. So comfortable you don’t even feel the need to rub your clit, you don’t want to chase the orgasm, you just want to feel him. And apparently, he’s still on the same page with you. 

When he lifts his head, kissing the bottom of your chin and then your lower lip, still the two of you are groaning at each deep thrust in, but he manages to talk through it, somehow.

“Don’t stop,” he says, despite you barely doing anything. “Keep doing that.” He continues as his thrusts pick up pace. 

Only now do you realize that you were doing something. Without noticing, your hands were nearly tearing his back apart. Not literally, but your nails may have dug in a few times. Normally, once you notice doing that, you would stop because normally men don’t want the trace of another woman on him. Jay though, he’s in love with the idea that you’ll leave a mark. 

Obsessed with the sting of it, really, loving the idea of going to his night-job tomorrow and staring at all of the toys that don’t offer you a back to hold onto like this. 

You do as he asks much like he does for you, gripping him so tightly that your nails have no choice but to leave half-moon shapes on his skin. Each thrust drags your fingers up, down, up down, and with each thrust it somehow feels deeper, harder, hotter.

When he releases your chest from his other hand and puts it back to your cheek, caressing much like he has each time he’s focused on kissing you, you think you’re a fucking goner. 

As expected, he kisses you at that moment and thrusts once, hard, before holding himself there.

“I’m really close,” He whispers apologetically between kisses, “tell me how to get you there with me.”

You smile when he kisses you again instead of letting you answer, but you fall into it much like he does and you opt to grab that hand on your cheek and guide it to your clit. 

Instantly, he’s rubbing harsh and sloppy circles around it, and you reward him for the perfect work of his fingers yet again with your fingernails digging into his back. He softly moans at that, and you swallow it up all too easily. 

Tensing your muscles, his fingers on your clit work you up so quickly that you barely warn him of your oncoming orgasm, even as his cock sits leaking and heavy inside of you. You don’t even know how to tell him, all you can do is frantically moan out shortly.

“I’m–” 

Instantly his hips are back at work, barely even thrusting but instead remaining buried into you for the most part. He pulls out an inch and slams back in, wanting your orgasm to get him off more than his own movements. And fuck, it does.

The way you clench when you reach your high, slack lips against his own, he releases at what he could argue is the best possible time. Your tenses muscles work him up perfectly, gently massaging his cock as he releases in full without too much overstimulation. 

And you. You have never gotten off with a man staying mostly still inside of you. Actually, you’ve only gotten off that way with toys because nothing beats getting off while completely full. Jay really is something, or, someone. 

The two of you release together, and his lips fall slack just like yours do. The kissing turned to that of desperate, orgasm-fogged moans into the other’s mouth. For some reason, it was incredibly hot to you that you both reacted that way. So insanely drunk on the other that nothing felt embarrassing.

Even the way his fingers moved on your clit through your orgasm, he somehow knew when to go and when to stop. 

Even now, as your orgasm tapers off, you are so blissfully aware that you want to immediately fall asleep even with him inside of you. Jay is polite though, and gently pulls out with a small apology of the mess. 

When he looks at you, looking so sleepy under him, maybe it translates to him too and he instantly yawns but tries to be strong for both of you.

“We should clean up.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

There wasn’t even a question in your head when he slept over that night. He didn’t even hint at leaving. Nor did he hint the morning after as you groggily opened your computer for your daily work. 

He did hint that he would miss you when he eventually had to go to his own house and get ready for an evening at the sex-shop. He also hinted a few times at feeling like, when he looked at you, you weren’t a brand new person in his life. Part of you wonders if that’s because maybe you want to be permanent in his life from now on.

Later that night, he came back. Bright eyes and a stinging back.

For some reason, you feel it’s safe to say that neither of you can stand being apart for too long. So yeah, maybe this is what a normal relationship is like. If, you know, you were in a relationship with him.

Ironically enough, only a few days later that relationship is established in the form of a new car battery and a bottle of lube that he bought for you. 

Not that you need it. (The lube.)

[railingsofsorrow]

I hate you, until I don't

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: three times you annoyed Spencer and three times Spencer annoyed you, proving the two of you cannot stand each other. . . until the one time that there was less annoyance and more sexual tension. 

pairing: s.reid x reader 

w.c: 3.6K

warnings/content: inaccurate medical procedures (don't come for me); language; flirting; enemies to lovers; case-related violence; suggestive content (no smut but I'm classifying this as +16).

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

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[The Coffee] 

Smoke should be coming out of his ears by now, from the way his neck is pink and you're sure he's also got his jaw clenched by how his furiously he's writing on the board, connecting the leads.  

You've been fifteen minutes out of the room and Spencer has figure out the whole case.  

“Why are you so angry?” 

“I'm not angry.” 

You do not need to be a profiler to know he had that answer on the tip of his tongue, ready to give the excuse to someone who asked the inevitable question. Right, you're not gonna fall for that.  

“Um. Okay.” 

Spencer clicks the pen twice before you settle beside him, perching your hip against the table. His tongue travels across his lips slowly, he's trying to focus but can't.  

You don't know the reason. It could be a thousand things given that the local police you were working with have not been exactly welcoming to the FBI butting in on their case. Some cops acted hostile towards the team, but it was nothing you couldn't handle.  

By handling it you meant switching your focus to something better: Reid. You both draw limits to be around each other. It's nothing personal (maybe?) but you just don't get along as you do with the rest of the team. That doesn't mean you don't work well together in the field, no. In 80% of field work, you have Spencer by your side exchanging ideas to come up with good conclusions. The other 20% is the time apart you require to breathe away from each other.  

You don't hate him. If anyone hates Spencer Reid, they just might have to do a CT scan, that man doesn't have a single bad bone in his skinny body.  

You, however, have a field day while annoying him. Though you're not particularly close, you throw harmless jabs at one another once in a while.  

You are bored and Spencer is here, therefore... 

“I'm not angry.” His tone is final as he lets his eyes fall on you to look back to the board. The crease between his brows deepens. You tilt your head curiously. You don't really care about what got him mad, though it is an interesting fact to see him actually pissed about something. It's a rare image. “Not angry at all.” 

You kick his converse playfully, standing up fully. “I said okay, honey. You don't need to jump on my neck for it.” 

Spencer rolls his eyes, clicking the pen three times this time. You watch his fingers clenching and unclenching around the pen.  

“Don't call me honey.”  

Blinking up at him innocently, you turn around and say, “sure, honey. I'm gonna go and grab some coffee.” You raise your index finger before leaving the room, interrupting him mid-speech. “For me only, of course.” 

His mug was empty, you had seen as you walked into the room. He had dawned three of those already so of course you said that because you care about his health. Obviously. His scoff as you leave is the icing on the cake. 

By the time he finishes the geographic profile, he finds his mug magically refilled with freshly brewed coffee. 

━━━━━━━━━ 

[The Ambulance] 

“If you had listened to me—” 

“Don't you even fucking start. I have a gash on my forehead. My arm is numb and my knee is throbbing. You really think is wise to come in here and tell me I told you so? Disappear from my sight, now.” 

Those words seem to go on deaf ears because he proceeds to crouch down to survey the damage on your face the paramedic is already assessing. His gaze barely falling on yours until it fixates on your head injury, amber eyes narrowing slightly as they usually did while he is concentrated and is about to sputter out some incredibly intelligent fact.  

He does exactly that.  

“She should have an X-ray of her neck. She's been flinching every time you're turning her head. And a CT scan, she was also hit in the head with a—” 

You groan, not sure if it is because of the stitches or just deep-rooted anger towards your coworker.  

“God— can you please...” You give a begging look to the paramedic, who seems to be having too much fun by the lifted corners of her mouth. 

“— blunt object. Actually, you should be kept for observation for the entire night. Two days if possible.” He glances up at you, who presses your eyes shut instead of glaring, uncomfortable with the way the paramedic touches the sensitive spot on your neck. When you open them again, he's offering her a look of victory. 

“Shut up, Reid.” 

“It's a good idea.” The woman says for your distaste. Of course it is. Of course you agree with him. 

“No, it isn't. I have a flight to catch to get back home and sleep on my comfortable bed, I do not need hospitals or needles or blood.” You intervene, mentally dreading to spend the night alone at a hospital in a city you have never visited. 

“Do you have space for one more?” He questions suddenly, eyeing the inside of the ambulance. Your eyes widen at the implications of his actions. Before you have the chance to smash his head against the floor, he has already climbed into the ambulance, sitting comfortably in a corner.  

You stare in disbelief. The paramedic isn't hiding her amusement anymore. she's outright laughing. 

“Him? Not coming,” you say with finality, aggressively climbing into the ambulance, limping, to lie down on the stretcher.  

However, he does come, rubbing in your face the whole way to the hospital about how right he was about the situation and that you shouldn't throw yourself in danger at any chance you get.  

Hypocrite, as if he didn't do the same thing. 

━━━━━━━━━ 

[The Book] 

“Did you just skip to the end?” Spencer's voice laces with disbelief as he stares holes into the book between your fingers as if you have committed a heinous crime.  

You glance up from him and back to the book briefly. “No?” 

“You're an FBI Agent, you should know by now not to answer a question with a question.” 

“You're an FBI Agent with three PhDs, you should know by now how rude it is to interrupt one's reading.” You send the jab as quick as he had thrown his, rolling your eyes. 

“That doesn't apply if you're skipping to the end of the book—” 

You sigh, tired. “I have to see if the process is worth it.” 

“What?” Spencer shrieks out, switching his gaze from the book to you repeatedly. You press your lips shut, trying to suppress a smile. “What is that supposed to mean? You're supposed to enjoy and get surprised, not know everything—” 

“I'll forget about the end if I start reading it.” Which is true, if you read one part of the story without the context from the previous pages, then your mind just wipes it out as you come back to where you were. You had a bad memory of story plots. 

Spencer proceeds to get more offended by each word that comes out of your mouth. 

“No.” 

You let yourself chuckle this time. “What do you mean—hey!” You hiss as he yanks the book out of your hands, shutting it and hiding it behind him as some kid that's trying to hide his favorite toy so others won't find it. “Give it back, Spencer!” 

“You have to promise me to not read the end.” 

“I don't have to promise you anything.” 

“You want this back?” He waves the book in his hands. Your book. He threatens you with your book. 

You gape at him, then huff petulantly, crossing your arms like a toddler. To anyone who was watching, the both of you looked a lot like children bickering in the park. “Fine.” He offers you a skeptical gaze, narrowing his eyes with a slight scrunch of his nose and you can't help your reaction, really. Your lips twitch in a smile and you bite your cheek so hard it draws blood so you stop being stupid.  

He gives you your book back and pointedly studies your figure as you read, making sure you do not, in fact, skip to the end of the book. 

Spencer Reid is absolutely infuriating. No matter how cute he is. 

━━━━━━━━━ 

[The Drunk Confession] 

“I would've gotten a divorce if you were my secret lover.” You tell Emily with a slurred speech caused by the seven shots and two margaritas — maybe three, you stopped counting at the fourth shot. The table erupts in laughter at your claim. “No doubt.” 

Emily smirks at you, leaning as close as she can across from you, Luke is watching the exchange as if on a tennis match. Garcia slaps his shoulder.  

“Every. Time.” JJ mumbles with a roll of her eyes, turning to Spencer who looks bored out of his mind. “Don't you get tired of seeing them flirting every time they get drunk? It's getting old.” 

Spencer shrugs, a scowl setting on his face as he glances at you and Emily. He looks away.  

“Just ask her out, for god's sake.”  

JJ almost spits her drink. “What?”  

Spencer rolls his eyes, “you. Emily. Date. Do it.” He doesn't really feel like repeating himself again. Spencer doesn't know why he's so annoyed all of a sudden. 

“Well, why don't you do it?” JJ snaps, narrowing her eyes at him, who blinks at her. “Yeah, ask her out instead of judging me like that.” 

“No offense, but I don't see Emily that way.” 

“Of course you don't and I'm not talking about Emily, Spencer,” JJ says pointedly. “You know I'm not.” 

It doesn't take long for all of you to call it a night. The sober ones, at least, because the rest could stay until the morning without complaining, driving themselves to an alcoholic coma. That would have been your case. Fortunately, it isn't.  

And now, Spencer is in charge of driving you home against his will because you live close by.  

Great.  

“I can put on my own seatbelt, thanks.” You frown as he lifts his hand to help you put the seatbelt on. He retracts it with a roll of eyes.  

“Be my guest.” 

“Yeah,” you mumble quietly, leaning your head back and closing your eyes as you feel the car being turned on. “Don't worry, m' not gonna puke in your car or whatever.” 

Spencer freezes on his way to changing gears. “Are you feeling sick?” 

“I just told you—” 

He rolls his eyes, “I just meant that driving may make it worse, so if you want, we can wait and then I'll take you home.”  

You open one eye to narrow him down suspiciously. It wasn't that bad. You just had drink a lot, and your body is having a completely normal reaction, though it was a bit annoying. But you don't think you're about to throw up.  

“Careful, you almost sound like you care about my well-being.” 

Spencer drove off the parking lot with a huff, “sure. If you do puke in my car I'll leave you alone in the middle of the avenue.” 

A hiccup came out at the same time as your laugh and it ended up turning into a snort, which was not that graceful and you quickly covered your mouth.  

He gave you a sideways glance and you told him to keep driving, ignoring the twitch on his lips you thought you saw. No, that was definitely not there. 

“You would never do that to me.” 

“Try me.” 

“I can't believe I had a thing for you.” 

“What?” 

He almost had the urge to hit on the brakes but controlled himself. You hummed, watching the trees move as the car drove past them in the avenue. You rolled your window down, leaning your face outside a little, scrunching your nose when droplets of rain poked your nose. 

"Oh, it's gonna rain." 

"It's already raining- what do you mean you had a thing for me? What does that mean?" 

"Are you nervous?" 

"What- No!" He shifted his attention between the road and you quickly. 

You nodded, pretending you believed him and folding your arms across your chest as you leaned back on the seat, closing the car window so you wouldn't get wet.  

“You're kinda my type, Spencer.” 

“I'm- I'm your type— what does that mean?” He insisted and you rolled your eyes with a groan, you wished you were drunker than this. 

“... pretty boy with pretty brown eyes ... smart as hell and has a questionable sense of style. C'mon. It's like you're begging me to fall in love with you." You cleared your throat. "I had a crush on you, as in the past sense." 

Spencer squinted. "You just spoke in the present tense-" 

"Yeah, I knew you were going to focus on that, leave me alone, I'm drunk." 

He pressed his lips together to avoid laughing at your expense.  

"Right." 

How come he never noticed it? He couldn't stop thinking about it.  

“Are you still thinking about it?” 

Spencer turned on your street, biting his cheek. “No.” 

“Why not?”  

He spun his neck to look at you and almost drove into the sidewalk, which made you huff out a laugh.  

“Careful, genius. You might crash us because you figure out somebody has a crush on you.” 

Spencer scoffed, turning the engine off to glance at you in disbelief. “Are you serious? You just spoke in the present tense again.” 

Shrugging, you leaned back on the seat, sideways to stare at him, a little smile playing on your lips because you were enjoying the banter too much.  

“Did I?” 

“Yes.” he frowned and his nose scrunched in the cutest way possible you just felt like biting it.  

“It started when I saw you in glasses.” You admitted, nails scratching against your jeans distractedly. “You were like a knock-off Peter Parker, just cuter and way more attractive.” 

He scowled at you but you were able to see the clear pink cheeks he had acquired upon being called attractive. You weren't lying. The biggest lie and cruelty of this world was that Spencer Reid wasn't looked at twice by girls or boys. You would've been fanning over him at high school. 

“You're mocking me,” he concluded. 

You denied with a hum from deep within your throat. “Nu-huh. I'm not.” 

His eyes analyse every micro expression of your face and you stare as he does so. His lips twitch before he speaks and your eyes fall on them. 

“We're here.” 

He chose to say instead, his brain on slow thinking mode as you stared at him like you were contemplating something in your head. 

“You want me to go?” 

Spencer blinks up at you, big brown eyes wide as a deer caught in headlights, the corner of your mouth lifts upwards slightly. 

“What do you mean? I gave you a ride.” He replied, confusedly. “Do you need help to go up to your apartment? Are you dizzy?” 

“Not dizzy.” You shifted, pulling your knees up to hold them. Shoes off ever since you entered his car. “It was just a question.” 

“Are you testing me?” 

You tilted your head, causing a few strands of your hair to be released from behind your ear as you rummaged through his glove box. A book — of course there was a book in there —, a lens cleaner spray — you wondered if he still used his glasses, just not on the field —, two hair ties — you lift a brow at that — and lastly, his license and vehicle registration — you smile at the picture. He snatched it out of your hand to pull it back on the glove box and close it.  

“Why would I be testing you?” 

“To make fun of me.” 

Your eyes narrowed in slits.  

“I don't like making fun of people, less alone you.” 

Spencer held your stare for a hot second before he leaned back on his seat with a sigh.  

You poked his hip, laughing when he jumped in surprise.  

“You're so cute.” 

“Stop that.” 

“Calling you cute or tickling you?” 

“Both!” He shrieked out, holding your hand as you attempted to tickle him again. You adjusted yourself on the seat, studying the way he seemed intrigued by your hand. Or the fact he hadn't let go of it. “I can help you up to your apartment, ” he said after a moment of silence, something stirring in his stomach at the way you were looking at him.  

"You want to help me up to my apartment?" Now you are just riling him up for the sake of it. You hold his hand before he can let go of yours, a smirk dancing around your lips. "Sorry, I'll stop." 

"You're so annoying,"  

"You think so?" Your voice is low, careful. You lean forward slightly. 

"Yes," he says with uncertainty. He lifts his other hand slowly, brushing your hair behind your ear because it kept falling on your cheek.  

Your throat feels dry all of a sudden, and you swallow hard, shivering as his fingers trail down your cheek. "Spencer." 

"Mhm?" He's not paying attention to what you're saying, too busy entranced by your lips to do anything else. You just wish he'd pull both of you out of your misery. Since he doesn't move, you take matters into your own hands and break the gap between the two of you. His breath halts and he takes one or two seconds to reciprocate the kiss, lips parting in surprise. You bask in the effect that you have on him before he pulls you in by the back of your neck and it's your turn to react surprised by his actions. Your back arches and a sound of contentment escapes your throat when his fingers press against your thigh.  

You're straddling his lap in no time, his hands all over your body. You lower your lips to his neck, nibbling at his skin, satisfied with the moan he lets out in response to your touch.  

Spencer says your name once. Twice. It's the third time that you actually hear him.  

"What?" 

"You're drunk," he breathes out, chest going up and down unsteadily. "We should- we should stop." 

"I'm not drunk." You tilt your head, tracing his swollen lower lip with your thumb.  

He chuckles nervously, grabbing your hands to pull it away from his neck and his neck so he could think straight for five minutes. "You are. You taste like tequila." 

"Mhm, is that so?" 

He groans, eyes dropping shut. "Don't do that." 

Your smile widens into a menacing grin.  

"Do what, genius?" 

"This. You. You know what you're doing." Spencer insists half-heartedly, eyes fluttering open to stare at you. He can't help but stare down at your lips again, letting out a sigh.  

Finally, your shoulders slump in dissatisfaction as you realize he wouldn't want to go forward as long as you have an ounce of alcohol in your blood.  

"Who's annoying now?" You mumble, burying your head on his shoulders. His fingers trail up and down your bare arms, his hands then settle on your hip, drawing invisible circles there. You feel his lips press against the crown of your head. "You're gonna be the death of me," you whine, wrapping both arms around his middle. Spencer shakes with a chuckle and you smile into his skin.  

There is no going back from this. You either screwed up your professional relationship or just initiated something really good.  

You don't know which one is worse. 

He goes up to your floor with you and you expect him to say goodbye as you step out of the elevator. He follows you to your door and finds the key in your purse that you had spent more than a minute trying to find it.  

"You want to stay over?" You eye him, trying to sound nonchalant but in reality, you are expecting a yes.  

It's not what you get. 

"No." You conclude you screwed up your whole dynamic. He holds your wrist before you walk in and leave him in the hallway, pulling you back and cupping your cheek to press his lips to yours in a rather gentle and less frantic kiss than the ones you had just shared in the car. "Ask me when you're not drunk," he mumbles into your lips and you frown when he withdraws himself from you.  

You understand his reasoning, but that doesn't mean you enjoy the thought of spending the night without him, finishing what you started.  

"Will you want to stay over then?" 

Spencer knows what you mean. You're asking if he will want to stay over after tonight, after the moment has passed and it's another day, or if he wants to forget and pretend it never happened.  

"Yes." He doesn't hesitate, kissing your forehead before he takes a step back, ready to leave but not wanting to with the image of you leaning against your doorway, face slightly flushed after your make-out session. "Goodnight." 

You munch on your lower lip, opening the door to go inside. He waits for you to close it but you walk out again, his eyes widening as you pull him into another kiss. Just as he's about to place his hands on your waist, you pull back, patting his chest.  

"You're still annoying." You say, stepping back to enter your apartment, leaving him completely unresponsive in the middle of your hallway for a few minutes.  

God, he hates you.  

━━━━━━━━━ 

taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie @ninkieminjaj ; @hoeshissworld ; @r-3dlips ; @pleasantwitchgarden 

[barcaatthemoon]

guiding hand || fridolina rolfo x reader ||

you and frido sleep together for the first time.

minors dni, 18+, smut ahead.

it wasn't often that you found yourself in barcelona. frido hated pulling you from your studies, so she often found herself making the trek to sweden to see you. this little vacation to barcelona was like a dream come true. you had been waiting for months for frido to take the step and introduce you to her club teammates.

everybody on the swedish national team knew you. you were one of them, zecira's baby sister. it had been a huge deal when frido let it slip that she liked you, and an even bigger one whenever the two of you had started dating. you didn't care about the age gap, and it had taken a lot of work to prove to frido that you were mature enough for things to work.

you hadn't begun to worry about that until one of your teammates brought up sex. zecira and frido had rushed to make sure that you didn't have to answer the question during a team bonding truth or dare game. afterwards, it had been awkward when both your sister and girlfriend separately cornered you that night to ask the same question.

it wasn't a big secret, but you hadn't exactly been jumping at the chance to tell the team that you were a virgin. zecira had been somewhat relieved at the news until she saw how distraught you looked. frido had been great in reassuring you that things would move at a pace you were comfortable with. however, that didn't stop you from the terrifying thought of her not wanting to be with you anymore.

"good morning gorgeous," frido greeted you with a kiss to the cheek. you blushed as you pushed yourself back into her arms. she wrapped you up snugly, moving you along with her as she made coffee and breakfast for the two of you. "how did you sleep?"

"okay, but it would have been better if you stayed in bed with me," you told her. frido bit her lip as she turned you around to face her. "i know that you're being a gentlewoman, but things don't have to move at a snail's pace. i want more, i just need you to show me."

"i wouldn't want to overstep," frido said. she could see the frown forming on your face as you took in another rejection. it was starting to feel like maybe frido wasn't interested in you sexually. you felt like your relationship was closer to a friendship at times.

"it's not overstepping. i know you. i trust you. i like you. i want to give myself to you," you told her. frido swallowed nervously as she tried to back up, only to realize that she had trapped the two of you between the counter and island. "it doesn't have to be right now, but i'd really like for us to try something soon."

"i just want you to be sure." frido leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head. she slid past you to get out of the kitchen, leaving you to stand there with what felt like another rejection.

…

"(y/n), i need to ask you something, and i need you to be honest with me. the sex, is that something that you really want? you don't feel pressured by anybody else or even me, do you?" frido's tone had your heart racing with fear. you didn't think that you had heard her that serious before outside of a big game.

"of course that's what i want. i've been thinking about it for weeks. honestly, the last couple of times that you've stayed over and didn't try anything, kind of made me wonder if you liked me," you told her. frido's eyebrows knit together as she stared down at you.

"don't think like that, i want you so badly that my heart aches. sometimes, i don't know how i keep my hands off of you," frido said. she moved forward a little as she pulled you to sit on her lap.

"you don't have to keep your hands off of me." that seemed to be all that frido needed. she coverd your body with hers, pressing you down against the couch. you felt safe pinned beneath her body as she kissed you. each kiss that you shared on the couch was sweet, but once frido picked you up to carry you back to her bedroom, the kisses became rougher.

frido started to press a little harder, leaving your lips bruised as you tried to suck in deep breaths. you were never given a chance to catch your breath, not that you wanted it. you were more than happy suffocating if it meant that frido would keep kissing you. you loved every bit of it from the firm press of her lips against yours to the little bites that she left in between kisses.

"lay back for me baby. you're doing so good already," frido told you. there was something about her voice that was driving you a little crazy. her words of praise made your stomach flutter pleasantly while her tone sent shivers down your spine. you doubted that she would even have to touch you if kept talking to you like that.

"frido please, i need you," you whined. you had never felt such an intense craving for somebody else before.

"okay, i just need you to do a couple of things for me. you can handle that, can't you?" there was something condescending about the way she spoke to you, but all it did was turn you on. you had spent so much of your life trying to be hyper-independent that you forgot what it was like to sit back and let someone else take over for you.

"i want to try. i'll try anything for you," you said. it felt so natural, despite what you had told yourself for years.

"that's what i like to hear." frido leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. it was a small reward, one that left you wanting more. "first, i need you to take off your clothes for me. it doesn't have to be all of them, just what you're comfortable with, okay?"

you moved quickly to undress yourself. frido's gaze on your body was intense and lingering. she seemed focused, as if she was memorizing exactly what your body looked like. you stood in front of her naked, unsure of whether or not she would be okay with you covering yourself.

"it's not fair to make you stand like that alone," frido said. there was a teasing lilt to her voice that put you at ease almost instantly. frido made sure that you were relaxed as she stood up from the bed. it was a simple touch of her hand on your arm, but it felt like every single time that she had checked up on you before. frido wanted to protect you, no matter what the setting was.

"oh my god," you muttered as you forced yourself to look away from her. frido chuckled as she grabbed your hands and placed them on her hips. you glanced down at your hands, unsure of what to do with the mental image of your hands on her very naked body. "i don't know what to do."

"nothing right now, let me take care of you. think about all the things that my hands are doing to you, and then, later, if you're up to it, we can do this again, but you can touch me." the promise of touching frido was almost too much for you to handle.

frido seemed to understand that you were feeling like it was a lot, so she guided you back to the bed. you felt a little more comfortable sitting in her lap. you didn't think of the full skin contact, but rather the familiar warmth of being curled up with frido. she lured you away from your own racing thoughts with soft kisses and gentle touches.

"do you want to keep going?" frido asked as she held onto your hips. she was about to turn you around so that you'd be straddling her. it would no longer just be making you. you knew that, and with that in mind, you nodded. "if you want to stop at all, it's okay."

"i know," you told her. frido smiled as she flipped the two of you. you found yourself trapped beneath her body as she kissed you again. this one felt heavier than the rest. each of these kisses completely stole your breath as soon as you managed to catch it again. frido nudged your legs apart and gently stroked one of her fingers through your folds.

"do you like that? do you need less or more?" frido asked as she continuously stroked her finger against you.

"more," you told her. frido nodded and added another finger. she didn't dare try to slip them inside of you, just gently stroking. you weren't sure how far things would go. there was a somewhat familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach.

not that you had ever told anybody, but you had gotten yourself off a few times. it had always been rare before, but more frequent when you started dating fridolina. she was often the main thought in your brain whenever you found your hands wandering at night.

"stop that, i want to hear you." frido nipped at your neck, smirking against your skin when she heard the little yelp you let out. you had been biting your lip to keep quiet, unsure of how loud she wanted you to be.

"i'm sorry," you mumbled out an apology. you were careful to keep yourself unrestrained as frido touched you. her fingers worked your body up quicker than you had ever been able to do yourself. she wasn't touching you in a way that you hadn't attempted before. you couldn't believe how quickly she had you cumming, especially whenever you knew that she hadn't really done much.

"you've done so good for me. we're going to take a break, okay? i don't want to overwhelm you tonight," frido said. she ran the hand that hadn't been between your legs over your chest soothing, tracing little patterns into your skin with the edge of her nail. the fingers on her other hand slipped past her own lips as she got her first taste of you. "would you like a shower or should i come back with a washcloth?"

"shower please," you answered. frido started the shower up before she came back to get you. she let you go in first, and joined you a couple of minutes later. you were kept under the water while it was still hot. frido took her time in cleaning you up.

"i know that you brought your own clothes, but i thought you could sleep in something of mine tonight," frido said as she pulled you onto her lap. her fingers were dangerously close to your cunt, but frido was careful in never crossing that line.

"i like the sound of that." you let frido put a t-shirt on your body. you got up to put on the briefs that she had brought you. there was an old pair of sweatpants that frido had stolen from either you or your sister that you knew she had only picked out for you because you couldn't fit in them. frido pretended that she had no idea they were too small and just decided to sleep in them herself.

[kcrossvine-art]

hi friends! This recipe/review was delayed at first from- well it was a different recipe originally, technically bat tempura should be the next item but id like my first tasting experience of bat to be made by someone else who knows what bat should taste like. The recipe after bat tempura is living armor and id intended to use geoduck to mimic the scale. Living armor is interesting with dunmeshi as they used the suit of armor in 3 different ways; grilling, steaming, and souping.

Affording geoduck, a PNW delicacy, is a stretch for one dish, let alone 3. With my write-ups id like to offer a chance that readers will actually be able to make what we talk about. So I opted to use regular clams instead. I feel myself above the fire so we're still sticking with one dish, the dish that doesnt require a grill or a helmet-esque plating arrangement.

Today in our delicious dungeon, we're going to be making Living Armor Soup!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes into Living Armor Soup?” YOU MIGHT ASKThe ingredients used in the show didnt give much to work on, quoting "medicinal herb" and "special sauce".

1 lbs Mussels

Shallots

Garlic

Bay leaf

Curry powder

Chicken stock

Cream

Eggs

Its important to use cream as your dairy, the higher fat content gives you leeway with boiling and acidity to avoid curdling. Any cream should do. Still bring it to temp gently but rest assured in the moo moos protection. 

AND, “what does Living Armor Soup taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASK

A smoother, buttery-er cream of chicken soup

The mussel meat itself feels like a simplified version of chicken hearts- structurally and in taste

Its not bad. You could hard sell it to a picky eater 

Green onions would bring crispier top-notes much needed

And maybe building a roux base for the soup would fill out the low end?

I dont know what drinks would pair well with this. My heart wants to say red wine but im not a grape fan and cant get more specific than that

I think the hassle of procuring seafood is why when i ask my friends their opinions, the responses are middling to negative. You cant build a palate for it if you dont eat it enough. If i'd had fish stock i wouldve used that rather than chicken, while it doesnt turn the soup disgusting or make itself known much at all, awareness of its presence draws unfavorable comparisons to food I'd rather be eating. And eating for cheaper too (...besides the chicken hearts).

. Some mussels out of a bunch will inevitably be DOA, you wont be eating exactly a pound of them. This and waterweight are the nature of seafood. . Lay easy on the salt until the end before serving . If you have enough mussel stock left after straining, you might not need additional stock

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From deciding to cook to sitting and eating, the process took about an hour and a half. Not bad but not great, considering this dinner left me feeling full for all of about an hour after.

And the mussels were mostly usable/alive too! I discarded maybe 3 of the whole pound! Sure seafood can be light eating- youd think the dairy and vegetables would hulk it up more. The science of what makes food filling isnt entirely understood, as is most nutrition and gastro science, so i dont know what to blame. Stunning that 1lbs of mussels was not enough to keep a 110lbs person full for an hour.

If i were to make this again, i would serve it with fresh dinner rolls (or another carb). Breads and seafood are joined at the hip in my mind. You want more delicate tastes from your fish? I got just the thing. An entire family of food with varying flavors and textures that just so happen to all work pretty well with the third thing people eat often with seafood; butter.

I give this recipe a solid 4/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) It needs workshopping beyond being recognizable to the show.

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

1 lbs mussels, cleaned and de-bearded

Butter

3 shallots, finely diced

3 garlic cloves, crushed

2 bay leaf

Curry powder to taste

120g chicken stock

100g heavy cream

2 eggs

Method:

Wash your mussels. Remove any beards and barnacles. Discard any mussels with open shells.

Finely dice your shallots and garlic.

In a saucepan, brown your shallots and garlic in some butter over medium-low heat. Once softened add your stock, bay leaves, and curry powder to the saucepan. Increase the heat to medium.

Add your cleaned mussles to the saucepan, the liquid should cover them but if not add more stock. Bring to a boil, and then cover and reduce to a simmer.

Keep simmering until most/all of the mussel shells open. Discard any that still havent after about 6 minutes of simmering. Set aside the remaining mussels.

Pass the liquid in your saucepan through a strainer and return the liquid into the saucepan.

In a seperate bowl, combine the eggs and cream together. Carefully stir the egg/cream mixture into the saucepan until incorporated.

Remove the meat from the mussels, either discard or save some shells for garnishing.

Place the mussel meat on the bottom of serving bowls and pour the hot broth overtop, add your garnish (if any) and enjoy!

[aroaceleovaldez]

tbh my latest biggest theory for why HoO and onwards is such a dramatic drop in quality and consistency is just. Rick stopped making teaching guides.

Like, the Lightning Thief teacher's guide is SUPER in-depth with even stuff like sources about middle grade child psychology and exact specifications of where he's applying that, explaining what different character's goals/motivations are, their dynamics with each other and their environments, etc etc. Even specifying which specific myths certain plot elements are supposed to reference or be about.

That stuff just doesn't exist for later books. There's activity guides and smaller, significantly more simple teacher guides for later books but they don't go into anywhere NEAR the same level of depth. The TLT one is a full lesson plan that breaks down the book at every level and explains what's going on and more or less why Rick did that. The others are all basically just glossaries of terminology and some simple question guides.

And they didn't even use the TLT teacher's guide for the Disney+ show because they clearly aren't adhering to any of what's discussed in that breakdown of the book.

By creating a teaching guide alongside writing the actual book, that's forcing you to document what you're doing, why, your sources, and information about your characters and the story they're in. It's like an even more in-depth version of a series bible. But that's lacking for later books (and etc) and it shows because that level of thought and depth and attention just isn't there anymore.

[teratosfavouritesnack]

~ Dirty Hobby ~

roommate!werewolf x afab!reader - roommates to lovers, sexual frustration, (slightly) dub-con, dry humping/frottage, thigh job, impact play, cum play, degradation kink if you squint

3,4k.

Writing stories is a lot of fun. It's a passion for you, something you enjoy doing in your spare time, but you also see it as a way to release emotions that would otherwise weigh on you. Typically, you prefer romance although your stories always end up being far spicier than anticipated. That may reveal something about you, specifically that you need a good fucking, but staying at home all the time and never socializing with anyone doesn't pair well with being sexually active. Last time you let a not-fictitious being fuck you must have been not less than 80 stories ago; 5k words each, mind you.

The only non-fictitious being you interact with on a daily basis is your roommate, Alexis, also known as the 'good boy'. You call him that on occasion simply because you love the way his long fluffy tail eagerly wiggles back and forth, in stark contrast to the grimace he always gives you in answer to your playful mocking. He's also a 'good boy' because he never caused you any trouble in the six months you've been sharing a flat. He is clean, not nosy or noisy, and rarely invites people over, which is a huge plus for you.

Another major benefit of having Alexis as a roommate is that you basically have a living, breathing prototype for the protagonists in your works of fiction. Perhaps it sounds weird, but you've used him as the base of the love interests in your romances more times than you probably should have... Does that imply that you're in love with him? No! Well, not exactly. You could say you are attracted to him. You enjoy his presence, his massive presence, as well as his grave but sweet voice, his kind eyes, his long snout that screams 'pat me! pat me!', his long muscular arms that could so effortlessly sweep you up and...

Anyway. You like the dude. As in, he's a good friend who also happens to be very good to look at. You've done your best to separate him from the dozens of characters he has inspired thus far, and you'd like to keep it that way. Separate. Luckily, he is unaware of your… recreational activity. And he'll never know about it.

However, while your mind has managed to make things feel acceptable and not as odd as they actually are, what your body does is a very different story. Writing erotica has an undeniable impact on the writer, especially if you're describing fantasies you've indulged in far too many times before. What that entails for you is that you're aroused on a regular basis. And the fact that the character from your stories is walking around the house, chatting with you and parading around the very assets you fawn over in your wildest dreams makes it even more difficult for your body to remain partial... Makes things all the more wet, to be precise. Yes. Sometimes it's so uncomfortable that you have to take care of it right away, cleaning up and changing your underwear before returning to your chores. Other times, you just get on with your day despite your damp panties. You're used to it by now, so it's not a major issue for you…

It's a major fucking problem for your roommate, though. You have absolutely no idea. You can't even begin to imagine how challenging it is for a werewolf like him to ignore the scent trail you leave behind wherever you move inside the house. It's actually maddening! A torture! If he didn't know you better, he'd assume you were doing it on purpose just to drive him nuts. He tried to remain unaffected, to suppress his urges, but weeks after weeks after weeks, your scent became all he could smell inside the house, inside his own bedroom; even the food tasted like you! He considered moving out, to avoid the risk of doing something he would definitely regret. He does not want to hurt you, of course. It could be a situation beyond your control or a health issue. What does he know? What he knows is that he can't handle it anymore! He can't focus on anything else but your sweet mouthwatering fragrance that makes him hard all the fucking time. He ought to do something about it. He needs to! Before he loses his mind completely.

He's oh so very close to losing it when he barges into your bedroom one evening while you're tapping away on your keyboard, as usual. The sudden bang of your door being forced open makes you jump on your seat, and your eyes instantly snap to him. They widen in shock at the sight of his disheveled state; his shirt is unbuttoned all the way down to his hips, his belt unfastened and the zip of his jeans is halfway down, making his enormous bulge stand out even more. You divert your gaze from it as soon as possible, locking eyes with his instead. But his gaze is no better. His pupils are dilated, and he stares at you as though you're a piece of raw meat. He has never looked so feral before.

“A-Alexis?”

He growls in response, his legs twitching as if he’s ready to pounce on you, but instead he moves his clawed hands to his head and runs them through his ruffled fur in a calming gesture, one you’ve seen him do before whenever he got a bit too fired up.

“I can’t take it anymore-” he rasps, taking a deep breath before fixing his piercing stare on you again. “Whatever it is, you need to take care of it. As soon as possible.”

His words don’t make any sense to you. What should you take care of? Did you forget to take out the trash today? What day is it? No, it’s a tuesday, it’s his turn-

“Did you hear me?”

His voice genuinely rattles you, you’ve never heard him sound so upset before. You must have really pissed him off somehow.

“I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about-” 

He doesn’t seem to hear your answer though, for he starts to move his snout back and forth, from one side of your room to the other, sniffling as if something has suddenly caught his attention. A deep puzzled frown emerges on your face as you watch him step further inside your room, scoping his surroundings like a hound searching for a bone, until he comes to a halt in front of your wardrobe and slams it open without asking for permission.

“What are you doing?”

He ignores the hint of apprehension in your voice and starts to rummage through your clothes so carelessly that you fear he will tear them all to shreds. 

“Alexis! What the heck-!”

He growls in frustration, his clawed hands finding purchase on the cabinet door frame, causing the wood to creak under his grip. You can't see his face since he's still buried deep inside your wardrobe, but you can clearly hear his frantic sniff sniff sniff as he obstinately pursues the source of the smell that apparently irritates him so much he turns into a literal beast. 

You’re unsure whether to approach him in this state or just wait for him to put an end to whatever’s happening, but before you can come to a conclusion, Alexis crouches down with a satisfied huff and pulls back from the wardrobe with…

"My dirty laundry…?"

You give him an odd look as he drops the basket on the floor in front of you. Is this the source of the smell that bothered him? But there's no foul odor coming from it, at least not one that you can smell. There's not much inside after all, only a towel and...

Your eyes widen as Alexis reaches out with his hand and grabs a pair of dirty undies from the basket, instantly sending your face blushing with heat and your stomach flipping in embarrassment.

"Wha-! P-Put that back!" You stutter, clearly flustered, attempting to steal your underwear from his grasp, but he quickly moves them out of your reach, bringing them to his nose and taking a good sniff. Your face turns even more red at the sight.

"This." he growls, peering down at the fabric, his gaze fixated on the still damp patch sitting in the center. "This is the problem."

You're too mortified to argue with him about it, so you quickly blurt out, "I'm washing it right away, okay? Now give it back!" as you reach out again, only for him to jerk his arm away a second time.

"No. You do not understand. It's not just today," he says, clutching your underwear in his palm and piercing you with his golden eyes. “It’s everyday. Everywhere. I can only smell this.”

Oh.

Oh.

So… all this time… he could smell your…

Shock roots you to the spot. You’re left gaping at him, lips moving yet no sound comes out of your mouth. You had no idea. You didn’t even think about it. If you knew, maybe you could have refrained from writing so much, every damn day… You could have gone to a cafè instead of staying at home… Or you could have at least been a tad more careful-

"What's got you so worked up every fucking moment?" he asks, huffing in exasperation and looking around your room as if seeking the root of your problem, until his gaze settles on your desk. "You're always on your computer, tapping on that damned keyboard. I can hear you from my own room. You've got a long distance relationship or something?"

"I…I’m sorry. I d-didn’t mean to uhh… upset you?” You fumble over your words, struggling to find an appropriate response to this ridiculous and surreal circumstance, while simultaneously stepping back in front of the computer to hide it from his observant eye. "This won't happen again... Alright?"

His brow raises in interest, ears perking up and golden eyes peering into yours. You're sure he can tell how nervous you are. Gosh, you know now he must also be able to smell how shamefully aroused you are at the chance of being caught, your secret dirty hobby being exposed.

"Whatcha hiding, mh?" he taunts, taking a step closer, amusement and vexation mixing in a lethal combo. He cranes his neck to look behind you, but you're too close to the screen for him to catch a glimpse of it. "A secret lover? I'll grant you permission to let them come over. Maybe that will help you."

You're physically shaking with both dread and excitement, your wide eyes locked on his face, your hands reaching out to shove him back. Your stomach flips as you realize your palms have made contact with the fur on his chest and heat instantly pools in your abdomen when you spot the dilation of his pupils; they get so wide his golden irises almost disappear.

Before you have any chance to avoid it, he has you imprisoned against his body, his palm wrapped around the back of your neck, burying your face in his chest while he bends over to your computer. Your complaints are muffled by his fur, and your hands clutching at his sides are merely giving him a massage. There's nothing you can do against him. He is too big and strong... and warm, and soft, and he smells like fresh grass after rainfall. Oh, it’s even better than what you imagined…

You feel his muscles tense up around you just a moment before a loud bark of hearty laughter erupts from him, rumbling in his chest against your cheek and pulling you out of your reveries.

“Hunter’s Moon! That’s what you’ve been doing all along?” He pulls you back by tugging at your hair, his eyes full of mirth - and maybe a hint of mockery - as he stares down at you. “That’s what makes you so wet all the time that I can’t fucking breathe?”

“T-That’s not-!”

You're so ashamed that you'd rather combust into millions of particles and disappear right now. But there's also that wicked part of you that is pleased to hear you've had such a profound effect on him with your scent. The same side that relishes the way he's holding your hair, looking down at you, and laughing.

“You want a beast to fuck you?”

The way he spits out those words makes you shudder, and all you can do is stare up at him, astonished. His other hand moves to your face, grazing the outline of your cheek with the back of his clawed fingers, making your taut body shiver even more, your stomach doing somersaults. He can certainly feel it. He can see the desire wallowing in your wide shiny eyes. And it excites him. 

“Oh, sweetie. You could have just said so.”

And with that, he has your heart bursting downright out of your chest as he twists you around and bends you onto your desk, your fingers grasping the edge, your head almost colliding with your computer's screen. His hand pushes on the small of your back, causing your body to arch and your bottom to stick out. You feel his erection push against your jeans, directly against the crack of your ass, as he bends over you, his hot breath brushing the shell of your ear.

“Who would have thought you were so naughty…” he whispers slowly, voice laced with amusement. "Writing about werewolves ravishing you…" His free hand creeps over your hip and slides towards your belly. "Destroying your little human holes…" His fingers creasing and raising the thin fabric of your tee as they dig into the soft flesh of your abdomen, steadily crawling lower. He laughs again, blowing warm air into your skin when he notices you whimpering quietly and trembling under his touch. 

“Isn’t that what you write about, mh? Why don't you read it for me?"

Your eyes widen, and you meet his amused look with a shiver that runs down your spine and lands between your thighs. He gives you a wolfish grin before nudging your head with his snout and turning it towards the screen. "C'mon. Read it."

You can't think clearly, let alone focus on the text on the white screen. Your heart is racing and the heat in your lower abdomen is becoming unbearable. If only he moved his fingers lower to offer you just a little relief...

“Start from the line that says how the beast rips your pants apart… That sounds like fun.”

You’re panting so hard already and he’s barely touched you. You have to swallow a couple of times to clear your throat and moisten your dry mouth before you’re able to speak again. But even then your voice comes out shaky and subdued as you start reading your own wicked fantasies out loud.

“...he groped the round sphere of her ass, massaging her flesh as if to prepare her for what was about to come-”

You yelp as you feel both his palms land on your ass, groping you over the fabric of your pants.

“Keep going. Don’t leave me hanging…” he croons teasingly in your ear, giving your cheeks a squeeze as an incentive.

You take a shuddering breath and then exhale, hoping to calm your frenzied heartbeat - as if that’s possible in a situation like this - and resume reading from where you left off.

“...a loud gasp of shock escaped her lips when his hands pulled at her pants and ripped the fabric apart as if it was made of paper-”

And with that, your pants are gone too, leaving only a few bits of fabric hanging around your thighs. You don’t even care about your clothes right now, you just want him to take you. You need him. You want him so badly. 

His claws run along your panties, purposefully missing the wet spot sitting right at the center. Your legs weakly buckle in protest.

“What about these? What happens to her soaked panties?”

“Ripped apart as well.” you answer forthwith, pushing your ass back to seek more friction and thus sending him laughing at your eagerness.

His fingers coil around the fabric's edges, yanking at it as if ready to tore it, only to let go and snap the elastic band against your skin.

"Nah. I think I'll keep them on for now," he muses, his voice still cracking with amusement as if he's thoroughly enjoying torturing you and driving you insane.

Your indignant cry rapidly turns into a shocked gasp as you feel something long and hard shove against your panties-clad folds. When you look down, your jaw falls at the sight of his huge throbbing cock stroking against your cunt back and forth, its dark pink skin already glistening with your juices dropping through your drenched underwear.

"So wet…" he croons, nestling his face in the crook of your neck. His moist nose brushes against your boiling hot skin, giving you chills. "So wet for me."

He keeps moving against you, maddeningly slowly, making you quiver with both pleasure and desperation. Breathy whimpers and moans fall from your parted lips, mirroring the rhythm of his thrusts.

"A-Alexis… please…"

You’re begging him to fuck you. He knows that. It's so obvious. It pleases him greatly, yet he won't let your precious little cries deter him from his own plans. His movements almost come to a halt as his warm, wet tongue slides out of his mouth and licks the side of your neck.

“You’ve driven me mad for months.” he growls in your ear, frustration once more edging his tone. His hands eagerly reach for your thighs and push them together to squeeze his cock between your soft flesh. You moan in response, surprised and satisfied by the additional friction, although still frustrated by the emptiness you feel inside you, with your walls clenching desperately around nothing. 

“Now it’s my turn.”

A jolt of pleasure strikes your core as his arms wrap around your middle and he starts to buck his hips against your ass at a punishing pace, rocking your whole body with such force that you’d be slamming against the desk if he wasn’t holding onto you like a vice.

You whine and mewl ever louder, the knot in your lower belly tightening at an alarming rate. Your hands grasp onto his strong arms, fingers tangling in his fur, while your head bobs feverishly upon his shoulder.

“A-Alexis… I-I'm- I’m!”

His moist nose taps on your neck, tongue lapping at your skin, as his cock keeps on bullying your poor swollen folds. The fabric of your underwear is so wet at this point that it's almost as if it's not even there; you can feel him entirely, rubbing your small bundle of nerves with every thrust.

"Already?" His laughter vibrates through your writhing body, heightening the friction between your thighs.

You try to hold back, a little offended by his derision, wanting to last a bit longer, but with a harsh yank of his hand, he pulls your panties to the side and finally seals your fate. Tendrils of pleasure ignite from your core, sending you spasming sharply in his grasp,your cunt gushing cum on his length.

He growls in your ear, tightening his hold and lifting you off the ground while chasing his own high. Feeling you contort in ecstasy and soak his cock has excited him viscerally, and it's only a matter of minutes until he follows you, shooting his sperm into your panties and mixing his juices with your own. You're both left panting, breathless, and light-headed, your bodies buzzing with the last shreds of bliss.

Alexis adjusts your underwear, cupping your cunt to ensure you feel his cum smear across your tender flesh. You whimper lazily in response, turning your head to glance up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. He meets your gaze with his own glazed look and smiles, that wolfish smile that inspired oh so many stories.

You need more. You want him. You want to feel him inside you. This was not enough. Not enough to satisfy months and months worthy of fantasies and soaking panties.

As if sensing the need within you, Alexis raises his hand to your hair and caresses it with newfound affection.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll give you plenty to write about..." he teases and grins at the way your eyes seem to lighten up at his words, only to see your face fall a second later as he adds: "In due time."

He gives you a playful smack on the ass and then walks out of your room, snickering.

"Whatcha having for dinner?

🪷. You can leave me a tip on ko-fi if you want to support me

[sgfavmalaywriter]

SEOULFUL ENCOUNTER (Part 1)

Kim Jiwon X Y/N

Smut (Mind Breaking, Begging and much more)

It was a hot June Wednesday in Seoul, and the air was heavy and thick with the promise of a scorching summer. Jiwon, the rich and powerful CEO of a lucrative tech company, sat in her air-conditioned office, her slender fingers tapping impatiently on the desk. She was expecting a visitor, an investor from the UK, and she wanted to make sure that this deal went through. She knew that she had the upper hand, with her wealth and influence, but she also knew that this particular investor had a reputation for getting what he wanted.

As the sun began to set, a car pulled up outside her office building and a tall, mysterious figure stepped out. Y/N was his name, and he cut a striking figure with his sleek, dark hair and piercing eyes. He exuded an air of confidence and power that immediately caught Jiwon's attention. She sat up straighter in her chair, her interest piqued.

When Y/N entered her office, the air between them crackled with electricity. He exuded sex appeal, his gaze bold and intense as he took in Jiwon's sleek, black suit and her long, slender legs. Jiwon felt a tingle in her core, a spark of desire that surprised her. She was usually so composed and in control, but there was something about this man that made her want to let go.

They started discussing business, but it wasn't long before the conversation took a turn for the flirtatious. Y/N leaned forward, his deep voice sending shivers down Jiwon's spine as he suggested that there might be more to their partnership than just a simple investment. He wanted something from her, something personal, and he was willing to offer her a deal.

"I'll make you an offer, Jiwon,"

Y/N purred, his accent sending a shiver down her spine.

“I want you to do something for me, something special. Let's just say I have a particular taste for Korean beauty, and I've heard so much about your... talents."

Jiwon raised an elegant eyebrow, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

"Talents? I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific. What exactly is it that you want from me, Mr. Y/N?"

Y/N leaned back in his chair, a smile playing on his lips as he enjoyed the game they were playing.

“Let's just say I have a particular fetish for beautiful women like yourself, Jiwon. I want you to show me just how good you Koreans are at pleasing a man."

Jiwon felt her pussy moisten at his bold proposition, and she shifted in her seat, unable to hide her growing desire. She was intrigued, by that growing bulge in his shorts

Jiwon, his eyes raking over her body with hunger. She then slowly proceeds to Take out her tie before following up with her buttons, slowly unbuttoning them, which eventually reveals her breasts

"You like what you see?"

Jiwon teased, her voice husky and full of promise.

Y/N growled, his hands reaching out to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing over her hardening nipples.

"I fucking love it. But I want more, Jiwon. I want to taste you."

Jiwon shuddered as Y/N lowered his head, his lips wrapping around one erect nipple while his hand squeezed and massaged the other. He suckled and nibbled, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak before moving to the other breast, giving it the same treatment.

Jiwon moaned, her head falling back as pleasure shot through her. She could feel her pussy getting wetter, her juices soaking her panties. Y/N's skilled mouth was driving her wild, and she wanted more.

Without warning, Y/N dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands reaching up to hook his fingers into the sides of her panties. With a slow, deliberate movement, he tore the flimsy fabric, baring her completely. Jiwon gasped, her hands flying to his hair as he buried his face between her thighs.

His tongue flicked out, tasting her sweet nectar, and then he lapped at her eagerly, his groans vibrating against her sensitive flesh. He sucked her clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, teasing it until Jiwon was squirming and moaning, her hands clutching at his hair.

"Please... don't stop... oh, God!"

Jiwon cried out, her hips bucking as an orgasm rushed through her.

Y/N didn't stop, his tongue working its magic until Jiwon came again, her juices flowing onto his tongue. Only then did he stand, his mouth still tasting of her essence.

Jiwon stood there trembling, her eyes cloudy with desire.

"Now it's my turn to taste you.”

she murmured, reaching for the bulge in Y/N's pants.

With swift movements, she undressed him, her breath catching in her throat as his thick, hard dick sprang free. She grasped it firmly, stroking it slowly as she admired its length and girth.

Then, with a wicked smile, she sank to her knees, her long hair cascading over her shoulders. She swirled her tongue around the head of his dick, tasting the small bead of pre-cum that had formed there, before taking him deep into her warm, wet mouth.

Y/N groaned, his hands tangling in her hair as Jiwon sucked and licked, her tongue swirling and teasing. She bobbed her head up and down, taking him deeper with each stroke, her spit lubricating his shaft.

"Fuck, Jiwon... that feels so good,"

Y/N groaned, his hips thrusting gently as he fucked her face.

Jiwons moaned her satisfaction, the vibration sending shivers up Y/N's spine. She reached down to fondle his balls, massaging them gently as she continued to suck and lick, her eyes never leaving his.

Y/N couldn't take much more, the pleasure was too intense.

"I'm gonna cum, Jiwon... I'm so close..."

Jiwon hummed her encouragement, sucking harder, her hand pumping his shaft. She wanted his cum, wanted to taste his release.

With a shout, Y/N exploded into her mouth, his hot cum coating her tongue. Jiwon swallowed greedily, milking him dry as he shuddered with pleasure.

They collapsed onto the couch, breathless and sated, their bodies still tingling with desire. Y/N pulled Jiwon onto his lap, his hands roaming her body possessively.

"I think it's time to seal our partnership, don't you agree, Jiwon?"

he murmured, his lips brushing her ear. Jiwon smiled, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

"I think so, Mr. Y/N. But first, I want you to fuck me. Right here, on this couch. I want to feel you inside me."

Y/N growled, his dick already hardening again at the thought. He stood, still holding Jiwon, and laid her down on the couch, spreading her legs wide. He positioned himself at her entrance, teasing her wet pussy with the tip of his dick.

With a swift thrust, he impaled her, filling her completely. Jiwon cried out, her back arching as pleasure rushed through her. Y/N began to move, his hips snapping as he plunged in and out, his dick sliding effortlessly within her tight, wet heat.

Jiwon met his thrusts, her nails digging into his back as she cried out with each stroke.

"Harder, Y/N... fuck me harder!"

Y/N obliged, pounding into her with force, his balls slapping against her ass. The sound of their flesh slapping together filled the room, along with their moans and cries of pleasure.

Jiwon felt her orgasm building again, the coils of pleasure tightening in her belly.

Y/N growled, his hands gripping her thighs as he slammed into her, driving her over the edge.

"Cum for me, Jiwon... let me feel it!"

Jiwon screamed as her orgasm ripped through her, her pussy contracting around Y/N's dick, milking him. Y/N groaned, feeling her climax trigger his own, and with a few more thrusts, he spilled his seed inside her, their juices mingling as they rode out their pleasure.

They lay spent, their bodies glistening with sweat, catching their breath. Y/N pulled Jiwon close, his lips brushing her hair as he whispered.

"I think we've just sealed the deal, Ms. Jiwon. And this is just the beginning."

Jiwon smiled, already plotting their next encounter, knowing that this was just the first of many passionate nights to come

End!!!

That's the end of Part 1 and I may upload Part 2 soon!! Anyway thanks for reading my first-ever story for this account and I hope you enjoy reading it❤️

[willowser]

aww, you agree to stay home with your son until he becomes old enough to go to school, but as the summer ends and time draws near for registration, katsuki starts backtracking.

your son has a quirk. it's not so fancy as his father's, but it's more exciting than what you have, and even though he's big into katsuki's heroism, he hasn't shown any more interest in becoming a hero himself than any other boy his age.

at first you think it's katsuki getting nervous about putting him in public school, but he still doesn't seem sold on any of the private teachers you find. you want to go back to work, and it's not that he's telling you no—but there's just this edginess to him, whenever you push the conversation.

"still small," katsuki defends, murming into your hair as you're laying in bed. "another year 'n he'll be a lil' bigger."

it's true—your son is a little on the small side, but he has all the energy and determination of a kid twice his size. it's never stopped him before, nor has it ever had katsuki pulling him off the playground in the past; you're not sure why it matters, now.

"you said that last year."

"yeah, but he didn't grow that much."

"i don't think there's a height restriction for learning, honey."

katsuki sighs, and you can feel the frown pulling his mouth down. it's rare that he ever tip-toes around what he wants to say these days, more common when you first began dating, but he's always been vocal when it comes to your son. always wanted what was best for him, and didn't hesitate to ask for it.

you shift, scooting your head up his arm so you can look at him. "what're you really thinking?"

he doesn't look back at you, but instead keeps his eyes on the wall across from your bed. you can't exactly see the depth in them this way, but something about the tension lining his body tells you he's thinking, hard, about something other than your son.

"kids are assholes."

you laugh, because it's not what you were expecting and because you don't like whatever this is that's bothering him. you want it to go away. "yeah, i know. our kid is an asshole sometimes."

"well, i don't want someone being an asshole to our kid."

your stomach drops at the very idea of someone being mean to your son, not appreciating him the way he should be. what if he gets hungry and they don't let him eat? what if he has to go to the bathroom but he doesn't know where it is?

if you think about this for any longer, you'll burst into tears, and that will only further katsuki's case.

"kids just..." he shakes his head and glances towards the door of your bedroom, down the hall to where your son is sleeping. "say all kinda' shit. hateful shit."

you hug him a little tighter, because you know how much he hates feeling powerless—and that’s exactly how you feel, when it comes to this topic, but if you focused only on the negatives, you wouldn't ever let your son out of sight.

"he'll make friends, though, like you did." your words only make his frown deeper. "and he wants to learn, he is so curious about everything. i think he's ready, honey."

—but katsuki only grits his jaw, the muscle in his cheek jumping as he looks away from you and towards the window.

"well, i dunno if i am."

[lqfiles]

PAY THE PRICE — 29. a moment of vulnerability

(wc: 2.281)

much to your surprise, haechan’s door was already left unlocked by the time you reached it. your hand halted at the immediate unlock of it, and you hesitantly moved it open afterwards, your confusion growing more prominent with each step inside. it wasn’t typical for haechan to leave his door unlocked, especially at night from the experiences you’ve had with him.

as you entered further into the apartment, an unusual sense of eerie and a strange stillness hit you. a muddle expression formed on your face, and you looked around the dark living room, a feeling of familiarity following as you did so. your first thought was to look at the spot you remembered haechan to be seated at last time you had visited him during the night hours.

“haechan?” you didn’t expect the tone of your voice to be so soft as you called out his name. haechan, who was sat on the couch instead of the floor, didn’t acknowledge your words, letting them echo into the void. “i know you have my stuff, asshole.” you lightly complained, attempting to stir a reaction out of him who had yet to look up.

he remained strangely silent, barely moving. you took more careful steps into the place, slowly making your way towards the middle of the room where he was. standing next to the couch, you contemplated on what exactly to do. “are you asleep?” you whispered carefully, somewhat worried that you’d wake him up. you’ve never seen haechan this silent, let alone this motionless.

haechan shook his head, breaking the motionless trance he was in. his hands were still crossed over one another and his head was still looking down at his lap. “are you.. you okay?” the question felt foreign as it left the tip of your tongue. it remained in the air and was left unanswered for approximately 10 seconds. you didn’t expect haechan to talk, but he did. “i don’t know.. maybe.” his voice croaked. you don’t think you’ve ever heard such a sound come from haechan.

you expected him to dismiss it, and now you were put in an awkward position. were you the right person to ask him to elaborate? you’re relationship with him wasn’t that strong, let alone anything friendly in your eyes. still, you had already intruded his place without his consent, maybe the least you owed him was an ear to listen. “wanna talk about it?” you sighed out with reluctance.

haechan’s sigh followed soon after as he finally looked up, making eye content with you. the first thing you took notice of was the tired look in his eyes, almost as if he hadn’t been sleeping for the past few days. before you could analyse his face any further, he spoke. “i just got a lot on my mind.” he started, fiddling with his fingers.

“about what?” you reluctantly asked again. realistically, you’re not sure if you cared or wanted to know the answer. but based of his body language alone, you could tell something was bothering him, and call yourself foolish, but if there was anything bigger than your foolishness, it was your sense of empathy.

“life? i’ve just been very.. what’s the right word.. lost?” haechan continued. you eyed the empty spot next to him, contemplating the decision on whether or not to take the seat. you obliged, if you were to stick around for a story time, you at least deserve to actually sit through it. you sat down and nodded for haechan to continue. “what about life?”

“i’m just.. I don’t know, i’ve just been wondering where i’m heading to with life.” he confessed, and the answer took you by surprise. “why’s that?” you questioned, growing intrigued. haechan pondered for a moment, his hands now limp on his lap. “it’s stupid.. i think seeing jaehyun do well in life just has me questioning my own course in life, i guess i feel somewhat discouraged?” haechan admitted and the mention of jaehyun piqued your interest, though you tried to not show it.

“i don’t get it, do you want to be like jaehyun?” you asked in confusion. your conclusion behind haechan’s sullen mood seemed to bother him. he shook his head with a soft groan. “no, i don’t want to be like him, but i also do. its not that i want to have the fame jaehyun has or be known as an outstanding singer.. it’s more like.. i want to stand out too.” haechan explained, gnawing his lips.

“why do you think you don’t stand out?” you inquired with your head tilted in confusion. haechan glanced your way before shutting his eyes softly, re-opening them shortly after. “well, now i stand out yeah, but i don’t like the way i stand out, it’s not me.” haechan groaned in exasperation, yet you remained confused.

“i don’t get it, what’s the issue?” you questioned once more, growing more intrigued by his complaints.

“of course you don’t get it, because you don’t know me (—). you probably think you do, but you don’t.” haechan deeply sighed, it seemed like he was really tired, whether it be in general or because of your continuing questions. you remained silent, not sure how to respond back to his words. haechan took the silence as an opportunity to continue.

“i’ll let you know a bit about me then. did you know that the only reason why i’m even attached to my guitar is because i believe it’s the only reason people show interest in me?” haechan stared ahead of him, arms loosely crossed. “i do know what it’s like to not stand out because i had always remained as the one everyone would choose second because i had nothing to offer. does that make sense to you?” with a slight twist, haechan shot you a quick glance before turning his gaze back to it previous focus.

“its funny because i thought, maybe, if i pick up on a trait such as learning the guitar, people would take more interest in me and i’d get their validation. which worked in my benefit, surprisingly. who knew everyone could be so into the rockstar boyfriend fantasy?” he chuckled almost bitterly. you slightly gaped at the confession, too stunned to form a proper reaction.

“its why i liked to be called haechan, and why no one aside from yangyang jaehyun and renjun get to call me by my real name, because they don’t actually care about the real me. they like haechan.” haechan’s arms unwrapped from each other, gesturing up and down the length of his body to emphasise his point. “they like haechan, the guy who plays the guitar and is nonchalant, not donghyuck, the guy behind him who always comes second.”

haechan’s tone was undoubtedly bitter, and he paused for a moment. “so, do you get it?”

“..i’m sorry to hear that.” was all you could come up with in the moment, your expression doing enough to showcase your honesty. haechan didn’t response, instead he brushed his fingers through his hair with a lack of energy. “but what about karina? she calls you donghyuck?” you wondered. haechan let the question hang in the air for a bit before he answered.

“because i never told karina any of my issues, why would i? she was a short talking stage, i was still figuring myself out as donghyuck and cut her off once i wanted to start fresh. i didn’t want a memory of the old me to be left behind, except for those i actually care about. i don’t care about karina.” haechan answered truthfully with no hesitation.

once again, you weren’t sure how to carry on from that. what was an appropriate question to ask in such an instance? there was an underlying hostility in his words, yet you could also sense the rawness and misery in them. your empathy truly got the best of you, and you prepared yourself for the speech you were about to give.

“this is probably going to sound weird coming from me.. but i’m sure there are many people who admire you.” you started. “i won’t lie, i hate your guitar, a lot, but you’re not bad at it, i guess.. you could say i admire that, or something.” you averted your gaze, staring ahead just like he did.

“i dont know, it seems to me like you’re scared of people liking you for who you really are which is why you’re putting up this front.” haechan’s face contorted into a frown. “now you’re just twisting my words.” he laughed, and you softly chuckled too. “what i’m trying to say is that i doubt people wouldn’t put you first if you remained true to yourself, for all you know, someone could’ve been madly in love with you for being donghyuck. why change yourself for others if it doesn’t make you happy?”

silence overlook again and you believed that you had hit a sensitive topic. “but it does make me happy.” haechan admitted after a minute, his voice merely a whisper. “so you’re happy being someone you’re not?” you repeated bewildered and haechan shrugged. “maybe.” he answered honestly.

“and you’re happy talking to girls as someone you’re not?” you continued.

“i like the feeling of being wanted.” haechan responded.

“okay, but playing with people’s hearts is not nice.” you argued back. haechan shrugged again. “i never said i’m trying to be nice, life hasn’t been that kind to me either.” he stated simply, crossing his arms over each other again. his persistent mindset shocked you, and you swiftly turned your body to face his.

“listen, i know we’re not that close for me to tell you what to do, but, stop doubting yourself, it’s weird.” you sighed in annoyance. “you’re interesting as you are and i don’t think a guitar would change that much. you’re scared that people will put you second, but you’re not even giving people the chance to put you first by being yourself. wouldn’t it be worse if people found out you’ve been putting up a persona this whole time? that you’re name isn’t even haechan?”

“what are you trying to say (—)” haechan had turned his head to look at you “you’re too harsh on yourself. whether you’re haechan or donghyuck, it shouldn’t matter. if people don’t like you for who you really are, then they’re not worth your time. also, you’re leading girls on by seeking their attention, it’s not nice.” you stated with determination, and haechan couldn’t hold back the smile that was forming on his face.

“why are you getting all serious about that.” he scoffed out a laugh, and the room started to feel more lively. his face seemed to have softened, and you internally let out a sigh of relief, for some reason. “i think everyone has their destined person that’s perfect for them, it’s kinda sad that you’re leading these girls on and making them think you’re their perfect match when you’re not even serious.”

haechan let out another soft laugh, and this time, he sat himself up more proper before turning to face you again. “okay, do you think you’ve met your perfect match?” his stare felt strong as they locked with your eyes and for a moment you remained speechless, lost in the intensity of them. “i don’t know.” you answer back truthfully. haechan nodded his eyes, keeping his eyes locked with yours. “and do you think we could be a perfect match?” and the question took you by surprise, your mouth ajar as you tried to come up with an answer.

“god forbid.” haechan chuckled at your response, and the rapid beating of your heart slowed. “i’m surprised you told me all this, you know. i thought you didn’t like me.” you admitted. haechan’s eyebrows raised at the assumption and he swallowed.

“i just wanted to be vulnerable for the night, knowing i wouldn’t confess to this stuff any other day. its nice to get stuff off your mind from time to time.” it hit you then why everything felt so weird this particular night. because haechan, the guy who barely crossed the friend status, was being vulnerable, with you of all people.

“we aren’t exactly friends.. but you can get stuff off your chest with me if you need to.” you offered haechan, and genuine surprise overtook his features. “why would you do that?” you shrugged, looking down at your own intertwined hands. “isn’t it better to tell someone who couldn’t care less about you than someone who does?”

“i didn’t know you could be nice like this.” haechan chuckled after some time. you scoffed in offence, looking back up at him. “I don’t know what image of me you have in your head, but i’d never make fun of someone’s vulnerability.” you defended yourself. haechan shook his head. “that’s not what i meant.” he corrected.

“i know, but being nice doesn’t have to be limited to friends. its nice to be nice… even towards insufferable people like you.” you continued to defend yourself and haechan’s perked up at your words. “are you saying we can’t be friends?” he wondered, his surprise masked by the tired look that had returned.

you attempted to remain unbothered by his inquiry, nonchalantly shrugging your shoulders. “do you want to be friends?” you proposed with hidden curiosity. haechan stuck his hand out towards you, silently waiting. you hesitated before essentially gripping onto it, his own hand shaking your clasped hands.

“i‘ll give you your utensils when i wake up, i’m tired.” haechan yawned before getting up from his couch and walking towards his room. you got up yourself, making your way towards the door with your mind in a haze. your hand was on the handle of his front door, and before you could open it, haechan’s voice called for you.

“just.. you can call me donghyuck too, if you want, since you know it already.”

previous — master list — next

notes ; angsty… anyways sozz i was kinda living life and had no motivation but i’ll try~ proofread this once so sozz for any grammar mistakes

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[formulawolff]

xix. when time stood still - t.w.

pairing: female driver!reader x toto wolff

word count: 3.4k

warnings: ANGST, so much angst, yearning, mutual pining, cursing, mentions of injury, mild violence, sexual innuendos, light smut (you'd have to squint to see it), age gap relationships, banter, yadayadayada

prev. | next.

“have you seen this?”

“seen what?” you arch a brow, shoving a bite into your mouth.

“toto did an interview with sky sports,” alex scoots closer to you on the couch. you were to his right, lily cuddled up on his left, “should we all watch it together? it already has almost one million views.”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

you pick at your food, “that’s unusual. sky sports typically rakes in only thousands of views per video.”

“well we’ll just have to watch and see!” lily chirps, leaning forward so that she can drum along your arm with her hands, “chin up, buttercup! we’re about to watch your mans!”

alex presses play, holding the phone at an angle where the three of you could see clearly. the moment he appears on screen, your heart skips a beat.

he’s disheveled, his fluffy brunette locks sticking up on all ends, the first few buttons of his crisp mercedes polo undone, the fabric slightly wrinkled from the stressful events of qualifying. 

although it was cooling down significantly as the sun had set, he wore no jacket. the sleeves of his polo were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his toned forearms, the veins prominent in the low light. there was an emotion in his gaze you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

lewis and george linger in the background, both of them waving fervently to the camera as rachel brooks begins the interview, clearing her throat. 

she begins with her introduction, your jaw going slack the second she mentions your relationship. she continues, pressing on with a flurry of invasive questions. toto appears just as shocked, remaining silent for nearly thirty seconds before speaking. 

“i initiated our relationship,” he starts, pausing briefly once more, “i approached her a few months ago in bahrain. if we’re being honest here, i had been crushing on her for quite some time. since the news broke of her signing to williams in december of 2022.”

alex’s thumb locates the pause button with lighting speed, stopping the video, “no. fucking. way.”

“that is so romantic!” lily squeals, kicking her feet, “alex, what are you doing? press play! i want to watch more.”

as the video resumes, you can’t help but notice lewis and george’s reactions, how their eyes are widened, lips parted as toto shifts in place, slightly swaying back and forth as rachel clarifies exactly how long he had been interested in you. he responds, focusing his attention directly to the camera, his eyes almost piercing through the lens. 

he mentions susie, quenching the blazing rumors that the two you were involved in an affair. he defends her name, stating that she is not the bitter ex-wife that the headlines claim she is. he affirms that she is the founder and helm of the f1 academy, the mother of their children, and an exceptional co-parent and business partner. 

you find yourself almost too invested in the words, leaning over a few more inches so that you can savor the way his voice is brimmed with passion, bursting with nothing but adoration as he catches his breath. 

that’s when he mentions you.

your heart flutters, a dizzying sensation taking hold as he utters the words i love that american girl.

“oh shit,” alex murmurs under his breath, “you have that man in a chokehold.”

“shhh!” lily hushes him, putting a finger to his lips, “there’s still more!”

rachel glances towards the camera as toto spins on his heel, starting to walk away. she calls out him, eager to dissect his previous sentiment. 

“you said that you loved that american driver. do you mind elaborating on that?”

toto turns, now in the center of the frame, “yes, i did. i love her. there are many whispers that i am just using her, that she is just a little pawn in my game to ultimately sign her to mercedes. that is not the case. it is complete and utter bullshit. she is my entire world. i would never take advantage of her in that manner. i respect her too much to do that. 

now that all of your pressing questions are answered, i have one thing to ask. will you all just leave us be? no more hot gossip. no more lies. let me love my american girl. that’s all. i will not be elaborating further, ms. brooks. thank you.”

that’s when rachel blinks, the hand holding the microphone quivering. 

was it from excitement? from a rush of adrenaline because she was able to pry more information out of him? the exhilaration of knowing that this was going to create a media frenzy?

the camera pans to her, the reporter bearing a smug, shit-eating grin. 

“well, now we know how the illustrious mercedes team principal really feels about the williams driver. perhaps tomorrow we will be able to reach her for an exclusive, one-on-one interview. perhaps will we see another post-race kiss? stay tuned to sky sports f1 for more updates here in montreal, canada! have a great evening! we will see you on the race track bright and early for more coverage!” 

the video cuts out, suggestions popping up on the screen for more related content. for a minute, you sit there, completely and utterly in disbelief at what you just witnessed. alex elbows you, bringing you back to earth. 

“you okay?”

“yeah,” you nod, heat burning in your cheeks, “i wasn’t expecting that.”

“and neither were we!” lily springs up from the couch, making her way over to you. 

she knees alex gently, “move, move, move! i need to talk to my girl.”

“am i included in girl talk?” he teases, obliging to her request, “i want to know all of the tea! she never told me about her time in monte carlo.”

“why not?” lily’s lip juts out as she settles next to you, “hey, what’s on your mind?”

your lower lip trembles, tears blurring your vision, “i-i just miss him.”

“oh lovebug,” lily coos, wrapping tender arms around your frame, “is james still being weird about everything?”

“weird is an understatement,” alex whistles, shaking his head, “he’s on insane levels of a strict father figure at the moment. he almost took her phone yesterday because he was under the impression that she was texting toto.”

“nuh uh!” lily’s eyes widen in shock, disgust painting her features, “alex told me that part of it was due to the team’s reputation? the pr teams want you guys to maintain your distance?”

there’s now a steady stream falling down your cheeks, “y-yeah.”

“oh honey,” lily rubs your back as wails bubble up in the back of your throat, “alex, get her phone for me?”

“why?” he inquires, yet hands her your phone, “her passcode is zero-three-zero-nine-two-four.”

“isn’t that the date you won your first grand prix?” lily’s fingers fly across the screen. 

“yes,” alex answers for you, placing a box of tissues on your lap, “lily, what are you doing?”

“calling toto wolff,” her chin tilts upward, towards alex, “duh! who else would i be calling?”

a few paddocks down, toto wolff paces in his office, his drivers situated in the two plush chairs, scrolling away on their phones. 

there is a thick layer of frustration lingering in the air, clouding around the team principal. 

it was not the heated, fiery rage of losing a race or a car malfunctioning. it was more like the fury of wanting something you cannot have. the desperation of it, the way it tugged and pulled at his weary heart. resentment for the mercedes pr team was accumulating by the second, the team principal firing blazing strings of curses under his breath. 

“everyone is going bonkers over that interview, mate,” lewis’ lips are curled into a devious smirk, the driver flashing his screen, “you should see what they’re saying about you.”

“all good things i hope,” toto snorts, rolling his eyes, “in retrospect, i should have just kept my mouth shut.”

on his desk, the inbox of his work email was flooded with furious messages from the pr team, demanding that he keep his lips sealed for the remainder of the weekend. the team principal was to shoot down any pressing inquiries regarding the williams driver. they even went so far to create scenarios that provided examples of the “proper responses.” answers that he was required to give since he only “embarrassed the team and mercedes brand even further.”

“they’re loving every single second,” george tuts, skimming over the comments, “someone said, ‘well now i get it. that man really put his job on the line to admit how much he loves her. w for the american girl, and w interview.’”

“someone by the user ‘mercedesgirl’ posted,” lewis snickers, suppressing his laughter, “‘you know what? good for them. she gets to be railed by the one and only toto wolff. he probably fucks her so hard she can’t see straight. also, no man talks about a woman like that in front of a camera without being absolutely whipped. he loves that girl.’”

“oh really?” toto raises a brow, folding his arms over his chest, “i mean, they’re not–”

a vibration in his pocket interrupts him, lewis and george both setting their phones on their laps, intrigued by the potential caller. 

pulling it out of his pocket, he quickly glances at the screen. 

my golden girl 

swiping across the cool surface, he brings the phone to his ear, “hallo, baby.”

“oh!” the voice on the other end is not familiar, “hi! um, it’s lily he, one of your girlfriend’s close friends.”

hmm. this was odd.

“i was wondering if there was any possible way we could get her over to the mercedes paddock? or your hotel room? she’s in shambles right now over that interview and i think she really could use some of your snuggles or something.”

“is she crying?” toto could pick out the quiet cries in the background, his heart sinking, “do you know why she’s so upset?”

“not really. i think she might be stressed out with everything going on with james and your pr teams,” the voice is light, airy and delicate, “but i think she could really use some time with you. in private. are you busy?” 

that prick. 

what else could he have possibly done or said?

“no,” toto’s eyes dart towards his drivers, “i’m not busy at all, actually. does she want to spend the night with me? i can tell you which things to pack in an overnight bag.”

lewis leans back in the chair, hands on his head as george puckers his lips, making kissy faces. 

“just text me!” lily chirps, “i’ll get her ass in the shower. maybe if she knows she’s going to see you, she’ll perk up. see you soon!”

the line clicks dead, toto pointing a finger at both of his drivers, “you two! out!”

“come on,” lewis groans, “we don’t get to see your precious baby? what if i want to say hi?”

“unfortunately for you,” toto scoffs, crossing over to his desk, “i have places to be.”

“do you want me to call theodore?” george offers, rising to his feet, “i can get the car arranged so no one notices the two of you together.”

“that’s not a terrible idea,” toto dips his head, turning to lewis, “are you going to be helpful or are you going to just sit there and continue to terrorize me?”

“i can help, i can help,” the driver waves a hand, “what do you need me to do?”

“i need you to escort her over here to the paddock or to the car,” shoving an arm into his jacket, the team principal scoops his keys off the desk, frantically gathering his belongings, “will you be able to do that for me?”

“aye aye, captain!” lewis salutes, “you need me to text her?”

“please,” toto whirls around, searching the space, ensuring nothing important was left behind. 

who knew that a simple rendezvous would require such meticulous planning?

well, it seemed when your pr teams desperately tried to keep the two of you apart, your friends would be the ones to step in. 

especially when the two of you were two desperate, yearning messes. 

and when it came to that, toto was eternally grateful. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“i missed you.”

one hand rests on the small of your back, the other kneading into your shoulder blade as your head is nuzzled into his chest, traces of his cologne flooding your nostrils. a simple heather gray t-shirt clings to his top half, boxers hanging on his hips. 

you’re in one of his crewnecks, the garment nearly framing your figure effortlessly. your lashes flutter as tender kisses pepper all over your face, covering your nose, apples of your cheeks, jawline, temple, and forehead. 

“i missed you more, schatzi,” he murmurs, “do you feel better now?”

you had reunited with the team principal in his lavish hotel room approximately an hour ago, lewis hitching a ride with you so that it didn’t raise any eyebrows. george was the one who coordinated theodore’s arrival to your motorhome, meticulously choosing a time in which you wouldn’t be stopped by any lingering members of the williams crew. 

it was quite ridiculous, really. the hoops you had to leap through in order to spend just a few hours with your beloved team principal. 

yet, it was worth it.

so beyond worth it.

the embrace you were greeted with was unlike one you had ever encountered before. toto’s arms nearly swept you off your feet, lifting you a few inches above the ground as he held you tightly against his chest, squeezing with so much force you couldn’t breathe. strings of german filled your ears, bursting with nothing but love and adoration. 

it was like he hadn’t seen you in weeks. 

yet, you were on the same wavelength, nearly erupting into tears once again as he whisked you into his room. 

there was a coziness that rippled in your heart as the two of you laid together, oh so joyful to be reunited once more. 

“so much better,” your lashes flutter, eyelids heavy with exhaustion, “this probably isn’t our smartest idea.”

“i think we’ve made plenty of dumb decisions,” a chuckle rumbles in his chest as he drapes the comforter over you, fluffing it so that it covered any exposed area, “are you nervous for the race tomorrow? the bottom half of the grid is not where i expected you to be.”

“it is what it is,” you exhale, “i could barely get any grip on my tires.”

“it was pretty slick out there. were you distracted by other things?”

“maybe,” you mutter, burying your head into the fabric, “i don’t really want to talk about racing right now.”

“i understand,” he hand drifts, wandering to your rib-cage, “lily mentioned something about james earlier. i just want to know if he had anything to do with your qualifying lap, that’s all.”

his touch his light, nearly feathery as his fingertips drag along, “i mean, i did get into it with him a few times. nothing serious, really.”

“let me know if it’s anything that i need to address, all right?” his hands envelops your breast, his palm radiating warmth as he squeezes, “i want to ensure that you’re not being harassed or anything. i can handle it, but it would destroy me if you were mistreated over something like this.”

“you worry too much,” your breath hitches in your throat as he rolls your nipple between two fingers.

“it’s my job,” his mouth hovers by your ear, “if anything happened to you? oh god. i don’t know what i would do. lately, every time you step foot onto that track, i think my heart rate elevates. i just get so nervous that you may get hurt or something even far wo–”

tilting your chin, you glance upward, pressing a finger to his lips, “i’ll be okay, baby. that’s why the safety regulations are in place. to protect me.”

in the dim light, you notice the glossiness in his gaze, misty even as he responds, the words barely audible. 

“that is true. but you mean everything to me. the safety regulations aren’t enough. i need to be the one protecting you. from everything. i hope you know i’m counting down the days.”

“counting down the days till what exactly?” the pad of your thumb wipes away a tear as it falls. 

“i’m counting down the days until you’re at mercedes. the day when we’ll be able to be together for the rest of our lives. the day where i’ll finally be able to go forward with our future.”

“our future?” your heart swells as he leans in.

“yes, our future. the future in which i’ll be able to make you my wife.” 

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“and it’s lights out here in montreal! the canadian grand prix is underway!”

“push, push.” the command floods in, “you should be able to overtake magnussen.” 

“got it,” you swallow thickly, adrenaline coursing through your veins, “let’s fucking do this.”

as george flew out from the pole position, max hot on his tail, your mind hones in from the chaos of the starting stretch, focusing on the task at hand. 

if you were able to overtake kevin magnussen, then you would more than likely be able to do the same to the ferrari boys as well. that would prove to be a challenge, as both of them were vastly competitive, but the determination set your heart ablaze, goading you to step on that pedal. 

this was it, the canadian grand prix. 

one of the crucial races. just another rung up the ladder to that final destination. 

the world driver’s championship.

and by god, you were going to get there by any means possible. 

yet, kevin was hellbent on maintaining his position, veering in your path. 

on the track, every inch was necessary in order to overtake another car. if you miscalculated the distance by even a hair, the results could be catastrophic. 

cursing under your breath, you alleviate the pressure on the pedal, “he’s not giving me any fucking room guys.”

“you’ll have your opportunity,” james’ voice chimes in, “just be patient, american girl.”

“well i want it now,” you counter, gritting your teeth, “how the fuck am i supposed to be the world champion if i can’t even manage a fucking pod–”

that’s when a horrific crunching noise cuts you off, the world around you slowing as you’re propelled several feet into the air, the wind whistling. 

it was like everything all around was frozen, your car rolling, barreling towards the barrier. blood roars in your ears as you gasp for breath, the panic crashing over you like a tidal wave.

oh god. 

this was it. 

squeezing your eyes shut, you brace for impact, one last image flashing across your mind as the car collides against the rigid surface.

toto and his beautiful eyes, the mocha depths glittering like stars as he dimples form, bearing a wide, radiant grin as his nose scrunches.

that damn smile. 

it was going to be the death of you. 

i love you. 

you hear a voice. his voice. so rich and brassy, thick with the accent you had grown to absolutely adore.

that’s was the last thing you hear before everything goes dark. 

in the stands, fans jump to their feet, their attention lasered in on the scene before them. alex albon of williams racing screeches to a halt, scrambling out of his car.

he stumbles slightly the first few steps, desperate to reach his fellow driver, buried among the wreckage. he shouts across the track, his field of vision blurred as his voice falters. 

“fuck, fuck, fuck! i’m coming! i’m coming for you! hold on!”

calls come buzzing across the radio waves. 

“red flag! we need the fucking red flag!”

“red flag! fuck! where is the safety car?”

“where is the fucking safety car?”

“hello! we need a red flag!”

“where is the medic? we need a fucking medic!”

in the mercedes paddock, a team principal rips off his headphones, his chest heaving as he frantically makes his way towards the entrance of the garage, scanning the track. 

he makes out the outline of alex albon, desperately tugging you out of a pile of crumpled metal and tires. 

as his line of sight falls on you, all he can see is the way your head rolls, limbs lolling as he lays you on the ground, his pleas crying out.

“where the fuck is the medic? she needs help!”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

taglist: @k3ira13 @prettiest-at-the-party @annewithaneofthegreengable @zoeyjadetice2010 @sinners-98-world @statuewoman @laura-naruto-fan1998 @nebarious @joalslibrary @swifth0lic @strangegirl974 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @msbyjackal @annaaepf1 @paigelouise @bborra @bblouifford @s-awturn @upsteadsstuff @omgsuperstarg @younxii @toldyouitwasamelodrama @kravitzwhore @persona1lies @pucksandpower @gisellesprettylies @wonderwolffs @xxforeverinadayxx @theseerbetweenus @simply-the-best23 @ringdingdingdingx @leilanixx @marknolee @rylieverstappen-sargent @whoisss @ajthefujoshi @m-1234 @ihateyougunthersteiner @racecardilfs @nicaeno @5sospenguinqueen @hookhausenschips @ashy-kit @totowolfffcheco

let me know if you would like to be added for chapters xx. & xxi! as always, thank you all for the endless support on this series! the compliments, comments, and asks i have received over the course of the past month or so have meant the world to me! i love you all so much! <3

[incognit0slut]

Much Ado About Nothing (Act II, Scene II: The Crazy Idea)

After being cornered by your friends, you found yourself in an even more complicated position due to your impulsive decision.

Part warning: none, just my bad attempt at crack humor Words: 2.6k A/n: If you paid attention, I've been using his gifs from season 9 so the timeline is somewhere along there. And while writing half of this, I realized Emily wasn't even on that season, but for the sake of fanfiction and pure imagination, let's ignore the human error of this stupid author. Thank you. Let me know what you think!!

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

It took you exactly seven hours and fifteen minutes to finally gather the courage to head to Penelope's lair. The morning had been a blur of paperwork and reports, leaving you mentally drained and chained to your desk. But no matter how much work you plowed through, your mind kept drifting back to last night's disaster and how your friends had planned the whole thing.

Frustration wasn’t enough to describe how you felt. You found yourself gripping your pen so tightly it threatened to snap in your hand, and your fingers pounded the keyboard harder than necessary as you typed out reports.

Eventually, you found yourself daydreaming about ways to get back at them. You imagined a dozen different ways to plot your revenge, each more elaborate than the last, and although it provided a temporary sense of satisfaction, it wasn't enough. 

By the time you wrapped up your last report, your frustration had reached its peak. You decided you couldn't wait any longer. You headed to JJ's desk first, hoping to catch her and get some answers, but it was empty. With no sign of her anywhere and your patience wearing thin, there was only one other person who might have the answers you needed.

You made a beeline for Penelope’s office. The moment her door came into view, you knocked sharply and then entered without waiting for a response. You weren’t surprised when you found Penelope and JJ huddled over a monitor, their heads snapping up in sync at your abrupt entrance.

“There she is!” Penelope exclaimed, turning around in her chair. “We were just talking about you.”

“Oh, really?” you replied, crossing your arms. “I wonder what could possibly be so interesting about me.”

Penelope and JJ exchanged a quick look, barely suppressing their chuckles. 

“How did it go last night?”

You groaned at the memory. “I can’t believe you guys tricked me!”

JJ laughed and turned to you, her expression almost apologetic. “Look, we’re sorry, okay? We just thought it would be…” she looked over at Penelope, trying to come up for a word before settling with, “Fun.”

“Fun?” You exclaimed. “Manipulating your friends into awkward situations is your idea of fun?“

Penelope waved her hand dismissively. “It couldn't have been that bad. Did you guys talk it out?”

You stared at her pointedly as if the idea of you having that conversation with him was absurd.

“No.”

“Did he apologize for anything?”

“No.”

“Come on, there had to be some deep, meaningful conversation,” JJ chimed in, trying to hold back a grin.

You scoffed. “No.”

“Did he walk you home?”

“No—wait, yes, he did,” you admitted, recalling the memory. “But he complained the whole time about how inefficient my route was and how there were, and I quote, statistically shorter paths to my apartment.”

“How sweet of him,” Penelope observed, deciding to ignore the last part of your rant. Then she wiggled her eyebrows. “Did he lean in for a goodnight kiss?”

“What? No!” You sat on the only empty chair in the room, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Nothing happened.”

“Did he at least say something sweet when he walked you home?” Penelope prodded, trying to dig deeper.

You shook your head, a resigned sigh escaping you. “No, because it was nothing like that. We talked, we ate, he walked me home. That’s it.”

“Sounds like the start of something to me.”

“Totally the start of something,” Penelope nodded enthusiastically.

You rolled your eyes. “There’s nothing to start because we can’t even stand each other.”

“Well you know what they say,” Penelope sang. “There’s a thin line between love and hate.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, trying not to show how unnerving her assumptions were. "That's ridiculous."

“But he walked you home,” she pointed out.

“So?”

“So that’s got to be something,” JJ joined in. “Spencer’s not exactly known for going out of his way unless he wants to.”

“He was just being polite,” you insisted, feeling cornered. “He walked me home because my apartment was on the way to his place.”

Penelope tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, on his way, or making a way?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache brewing. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Maybe he’s being subtle about it,” JJ suggested, trying to sound reasonable. “He’s not that forward when it comes to expressing his feelings.”

“No, guys, it wasn’t anything like that,” you insisted, your voice rising slightly in frustration as your eyes moved between the two of them. The room felt smaller with each passing second, the walls closing in as they stared at you expectantly. They were enjoying this way too much.

“Oh, but it could be,” Penelope persisted. “You’re both single, smart, attractive people who spend a lot of time together.”

“You two are unbelievable.”

“It’s okay, you can tell us,” she continued, her voice softer now as she reached out to pat your hand. “We’re your friends, and if there’s something more, we’d love to support you.”

“Or if you prefer to keep it a secret, we won’t tell anyone.”

“Exactly. You can trust us. We’re really good at keeping secrets.”

“So good.”

“So good.”

Your patience snapped, frustration and pressure boiling over. “Fine! Yes! We’re going on another date!” You blurted out, the lie spilling out in a moment of desperation before you could stop. “Happy now?”

Silence fell over the room as Penelope and JJ stared at you, stunned. Then slowly, realization dawned on their faces, and a chorus of excited squeals filled the air.

“Oh, I knew it!” Penelope exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight.

JJ grinned at you. “Really?”

The weight of your words hit you like a cold splash of water.

What had you just done?

“This is so exciting!” Penelope gushed, her enthusiasm mounting. Then she turned to you. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

You suddenly felt a wave of panic. You scanned their faces, seeing only genuine excitement and curiosity, no hint of doubt and discomfort swelling inside you. How could you explain that there was nothing to tell because there was no second date? That it was just a knee-jerk reaction to their relentless teasing? You couldn't possibly confess now, not without making everything infinitely worse.

But how were supposed to tell him? The idea of deceiving not just your friends but also involving Spencer in this lie made you feel sick. The room seemed to spin as you tried to come up with some way to ease the damage.

“I... I wanted it to be a surprise?” You managed to say, although the words sounded more like a question. Your lie felt hollow even to your own ears, but Penelope and JJ seemed to buy it, nodding and exchanging excited glances.

“This is going to be amazing,” Penelope said, practically bouncing in her chair. “So when’s the next date?”

Your mind raced. For there to be a next date, even a pretend one, you needed to talk to him. The realization hit you hard, the full weight of the lie you'd just created sinking in. You'd have to involve him in this deception and the thought made you feel queasy. You imagined the awkward conversation, the look of confusion—and likely frustration—on his face. This was going to be a mess.

You opened your mouth, then closed it, scrambling for a response. “Uh, soon. I-I’ve got to go talk to him about it, actually.”

Penelope’s eyes lit up even more. “Oh, planning it together! That’s so sweet!”

You forced a smile, slowly rising from your seat. “Yeah, super sweet,” you mumbled, your voice barely steady. You could feel your cheeks burning as you stumbled over your lies. “I, uh, better go find him now.”

Without waiting for a response, you bolted out of the room, your heart pounding in your chest. You mentally kicked yourself with every step. You had let them get to you, allowing their teasing to push you into this mess. You couldn’t believe you had let yourself get caught up in this lie.

You paused in the hallway, briefly considering turning back and telling them the truth. The thought lingered for a moment, the idea of ending this charade before it spiraled further out of control. But you quickly shook your head, knowing that backtracking now would only make things worse. You could already imagine how unbearable the teasing and explanations would be.

No, you’ve gone too far to back out now.

Continuing down the hallway, your steps quickened as you searched for him. You finally spotted him by the pantry, absentmindedly pouring too much sugar into his coffee. You walked up to him and leaned against the counter, watching him stir his coffee with more force than necessary.

“I did something stupid,” you blurted out, catching his attention. He looked up before glancing back down at his cup.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“No, listen.” You leaned in closer, lowering your voice. “It’s about last night.”

He finally looked at you, eyebrows raised, clearly surprised as to why you would bring up anything from last night.

“What about last night?” He asked, bringing his cup to his lips.

The words tumbled out in a rush. “I was with JJ and Garcia, and they were teasing me about us, how we supposedly have this… thing going on now. I couldn’t take it anymore. So…” You watched him take a sip of his coffee. “…I told them we’re going on another date.”

He choked, the drink catching in his throat. Coughing, he set the cup down with a sharp clatter, his eyes watering slightly as he regained his composure.

“You told them what?”

“I didn’t know what else to do!” You rushed to explain. “They wouldn’t stop pushing and I just wanted them to shut up. I thought if I said something like that, they’d just leave me alone. But now they expect details, and I… I need your help.”

He took a deep breath, trying to process what you were asking of him. “Let me get this straight. You, of all people, told them we’re going on another date, knowing full well how we—” He paused, searching for the right words. “How we don’t get along. And now you want me to help you keep up this lie?”

You nodded, and he called out your name in frustration.

"Last night wasn't even a date!”

“I know! The words just… came out.” When you saw him shake his head disapprovingly, you let out a groan. “I’m not thrilled about it either, okay? But I’m kind of… desperate here.”

Spencer took another sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving yours. After a moment, he set the cup down, gripping it in his hand.

“No.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “No?”

“No,” he confirmed before turning around, walking back to his desk. “I’m not going to help you.”

You shuffled along, trying to match his pace. “Why not? This could actually get them to stop.”

“Do you even hear yourself? This is crazy. You can’t just spin lies and drag me into them because you want to avoid a little teasing,” he retorted, sitting down and starting to shuffle through some papers on his desk, clearly trying to end the conversation.

“It’s not a little teasing! They’re relentless,” You pressed, leaning against his desk. “Come on, don’t you ever get tired of them trying to set us up?”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to pretend to date you. What’s next? A fake wedding?”

“Don’t be dramatic. We just need to show up together a couple of times, act mildly interested in each other, and then we can break up. We fake it, we tell them it didn’t work out, and we move on. It’s simple.”

“Of course, because nothing says ‘simple’ like faking an entire relationship.”

You crossed your arms and took a deep, calming breath. “Look, I know it’s not the greatest plan, but can you think of a better way to get them off our backs?”

Spencer stared at you, his eyes narrowing as he considered your words. “You realize you’re trying to deceive a team of profilers, right?”

He had a point, but you weren’t about to back down. “Wasn’t this your whole idea in the first place?”

“My idea was for us to act like we get along, not pretend that we’re in love.”

“It doesn’t even have to be convincing,” you argued, leaning in slightly. “Just enough to make them back off for a while. Besides, if you start laying it on too thick, they’ll never believe it. They know you don’t have much experience to begin with.”

Spencer looked offended, his brows knitting together. “I have experience,” he countered. “Just because I’m not flaunting it doesn’t mean I’m completely clueless.”

“Oh, yeah? When was the last time you were in a relationship?”

The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and when you noticed the sudden change in his demeanor, you realized what you had just implied. There was a tensed pause as you both stared at each other. You both knew the answer to that question, and you both knew you were treading dangerous territory.

But before either of you could break the silence, a voice cut through the tension. “What are you two lovebirds fighting about now?”

You turned to see Derek standing by his own desk, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. And then you saw it, an opportunity. If Spencer wasn’t going to agree to help willingly, you were going to take matters into your own hands.

You straightened your shoulders and faced Derek. “We need to tell you something.”

Spencer sensed what you were about to do and quickly stood up. “Wait—“

“Reid and I are dating.”

You heard Spencer take a sharp inhale. There was no turning back. The nerves in your stomach tightened, but you decided to ignore it and focus your attention on Derek instead. His eyes widened in surprise, looking between the two of you.

“You’re serious?���

“Yes,” you said firmly, crossing your arms and standing your ground, while Spencer remained silent beside you, his expression unreadable. “We decided to give it a shot.”

“At dating? As in romantically?”

“I don’t think there’s another way to describe it.”

Derek stared at you both for a moment longer, then his shock gave way to a broad grin. “Finally.” He let out an amused laugh “Took you two long enough.”

He approached with a playful swagger, clapping Spencer on the shoulder and ruffling your hair, which you quickly swatted away. “Can’t say that I’m surprised, but congratulations.”

Spencer looked at you, and you glanced back at him. Derek, oblivious to the tension between you two, grinned widely.

“I guess all that tension was just unresolved passion, huh?”

Your eyes snapped at him. “Morgan!”

“Alright, alright.” He raised his hands in mock surrender, still wearing a broad smile. “I’m just happy for you both. Seriously.”

You stared at him, bracing yourself for more teasing, perhaps a joke about what supposedly happened last night, or worse, something embarrassingly inappropriate. But to your surprise, Derek didn’t press further. Instead, he simply nodded with a genuine smile and returned to his desk, resuming his work.

You and Spencer stood there, dumbfounded, not quite sure how to process the sudden shift. You both were so used to his relentless teasing that his quick exit left you momentarily speechless.

You slightly leaned towards him as you continued to stare at Derek hunched over his desk.

“Do you hear that noise?” You whispered.

“What noise?”

“Exactly. This is the sound of peace,” you replied with a slight grin, turning back to Spencer. “See? This is already working. If we keep this up, we can finally get them off our backs.”

“I still think this is a bad idea,” he muttered, giving you a pointed look.

“Do you have a better plan?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Because I’m all ears if you do.”

Spencer sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. He studied you for a moment, his eyes searching your face as if weighing the pros and cons. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this…” He trailed off, looking genuinely conflicted. “This is going to backfire, you know that, right?”

Sure, he could be right, but at the same time, you believed this plan was harmless. It seemed like a simple solution: a fake relationship played out convincingly enough to appease your friends. It was supposed to be straightforward—an act, a performance without real consequences. Nothing could go wrong if you controlled the narrative.

You finally looked up at him. “Don’t worry,” you said, trying to sound confident. “It won’t.”

But as the words left your mouth, you realized, you weren't entirely convinced.

[cloudwisp]

football player!gojo x cheerleader!reader

cw: fluff, suggestive. he's a little bit (a lot) of a playboy but he's absolutely smitten with you. nothing coherent, just vibes. 1.6k wc.

꒰ note ᰔ I’ve been watching early 2000s romcoms and this idea has been stuck in my head ever since. ꒱

⭒ You’re newly recruited on the cheerleading squad, and that alone caught Gojo’s attention when he spots a pretty new girl stretching her arms and legs in the open field at the start of practice. You’ve heard about him, of course. The girls like to share stories about him and the most popular jocks in school along with crushes and boyfriends in the locker room. They say he’s good in bed but never sticks around long enough for something serious. Always seen with a different girl each week and they can only hope and dream to be his one and only someday.

⭒ You have to admit that he’s good looking, so unfairly handsome with quick wits and good humor that will keep you entertained for hours in his company. He always gets the best grades too and comes from a wealthy background that makes you think he must be God’s favorite. Especially when you get a glimpse of his sculpted body when he pulls his shirt over his head one afternoon. It’s a delicious sight and you’re brought back down to earth at the sound of your teammates squealing over him. Just what can’t he do? And what doesn’t he have? You’re sure every guy wants to be him, and every girl wants to be with him.

⭒ Gojo approaches you with the few minutes of spare time before warm up officially takes place, offering you some assistance if you need help with your stretches—it’s good for your flexibility and he highlights the importance of the proper techniques to prevent injury or so he says. You know his game, he must view you as this shiny new toy and that’s why he’s interested but who says you can’t have a little fun too? So you accept his kind offer, and a smirk tugs at his lips as he helps you relieve your sore limbs from practice the day before and running your routine again and again.

⭒ This position seems dangerous, with you lying on your back and one leg extended on the ground while he moves the other toward your chest with your knee straightened. You didn’t expect him to use his body to reach those tight muscles in your hamstrings when he placed your ankle just at his shoulder and he pressed his body forward to stretch you nice and good. You’re insanely flexible as he was able to close the distance between you two with just a few inches apart, and it makes his head spin when he’s close to you like this. The soft moan that leaves your lips makes the blood rush from his brain to somewhere lower and he has to restrain himself from doing something inappropriate. He wants to hear more of you and be the reason for those pretty sounds.

⭒ Of course, this caught the attention of majority of your teammates and some of the football players. It’s an enviable situation you both have found yourselves in, but you truly don’t have any real expectations from him other than that he mostly wants you for your body. Perhaps you could say the same thing about him, in the event that you and Gojo have a fling of sorts—you’d know to keep some emotional distance from him just to save yourself from any real attachment and heartbreak. You’re not so naive to get your hopes up and believe he’ll change his ways just for you, but maybe you do want to make the most out of your highschool experience.

⭒ Though, he does have a certain charm that you’re not exactly immune to and his sweet way with words that you’ve seen so many girls fall for. So when he gets straight to the point that he wants to take you out to dinner this Friday, you suppose you want to mess with him a little. “I’ve got my eyes set on someone else,” you tell him and he follows your line of sight until he sees where you’re looking. He feels his stomach drop as he realizes you’re interested in his best friend. “Geto? You’re interested in Geto?” You glance back at Gojo and leave him with a sweet smile and your thanks for the stretches, and he can’t ignore the pang of jealousy in his chest.

⭒ There are plenty of girls falling at his feet, but only you occupy his mind since he had first laid eyes on you. He experienced rejection maybe once or twice before and was able to move onto the next with no hard feelings, but something about you still intrigues him. Like he genuinely wants to know what goes on in that pretty head of yours, what warms and touches your heart, what makes your soul feel nourished and fulfilled. He wants to be with you, even outside of anything sexual because you are someone special and he can feel it.

⭒ He likes calling you by the nickname Angel, and it does make your heart flutter when it’s paired with that cute grin of his. You always greet him back with that bright smile of yours, and he normally wouldn’t be this fixated on a single person for weeks that slowly stretch into months but you have that kind of effect on him. Maybe you have him wrapped around your finger and he doesn’t even know it yet. But what Gojo knows is that he craves being around you (and getting into your personal space), learning every small detail and habit about you through observation, and keeping an open ear to your off-hand stories about your life or daily events. He looks forward to seeing you every single day more than he cares to admit.

⭒ He never stops his advances, trying to get you to give him a chance and he went to great lengths just for you to look his way. He doesn’t know what finally did it, but you suddenly agree to reserve a Friday night just for him when he chats you up after practice. He almost couldn’t believe his ears at first, his brain short-circuits for a split second when he’d normally be so smug about securing a date with anyone else. But you aren’t just another girl to him, he can tell that much. His expression quickly changes into a wide grin, “I’ll pick you up at seven, take you somewhere nice. How's that sound, angel?”

⭒ He arrives at your place promptly at the appointed time and parks his nice car in the driveway. He steps out with a bouquet of roses, taking a deep breath as he straightens himself before walking to your doorstep to ring the bell—never once in his life has he felt jitters like this. Except maybe before a big game, but still you manage to make the palms of his hand sweat in his anticipation for you to answer the door. And when you do, you knock the air right out of his lungs with your hair and makeup and dress that hugs your curves in all the right places. “Wow, you look… beautiful.” He says, holding up the flowers to you with a lovesick smile. When you tell him that he looks handsome too with the use of his surname—he sweetly requests that you call him Satoru.

⭒ Gojo’s inexperienced when it comes to relationships, and he warns you about that and understands that it won’t be easy to win your trust and heart given his reputation. But he promises that you’re the only girl that has made him feel this way, and he’s trying to make this work because he’s serious about you and wants something real as long as you’ll have him. You want to believe him yet a small part of you doubts his words. You’re still going to give him a chance to prove that small voice in your head wrong, but you won’t be so quick to fall for him. Because even if it doesn’t work out between you two, at least you gave him the benefit of the doubt.

⭒ He can’t promise that he’ll be perfect or that he won’t mess up. And that much is true when he takes you to a regular date spot that he had brought a couple of girlfriends to previously. That explains why he recommends the lobster pasta to you which led you to ask if he’s been here with someone before. He notices your disappointment and how you shrug it off by saying you’re just grateful he’s taking you out on a date. His hand rests over yours on the table and he apologizes for hurting your feelings. He did want to make you feel special and important, not like just another girl he’s taking to this restaurant. He feels like a complete idiot for not realizing his mistake, and it won’t happen again in the future.

⭒ Gojo can clearly see now that he has so much to learn if he wants to make you happy. And he can almost feel like you're having second thoughts about him—but he does care about you, and more than anything he wants you to believe that he does. He’s not looking for a quick fix, and he hates how he made you feel like you’re a temporary distraction to him. But he supposes that old habits die hard. When he walks you to your doorstep, he promises you again and crosses his heart that he’s in it for the long haul and he’ll show you how much you mean to him and make you forget all about those doubts and fears.

꒰ note ᰔ some more thoughts is that he gets irrationally jealous when you tell him you’ve already had your first kiss and he follows your rule to keep his hands to himself until the fourth date. thank you for reading if you reached the end -blows you a kiss- ꒱

[erwinsvow]

do you think shy reader is still a bit skittish and shy when her and rafe are fucking?

hundred percent, but in a good way.

rafe had been thinking you were getting better at the whole skittish thing when you and him were in bed.

there was at least improvement from when you two had first started dating, even though you were the one constantly asking him to be rougher. at first when he tried, it was clear it was way too much for you.

that made sense to him—you were mentally interested in all kinds of shit that your physical body couldn't handle. but he knew it wouldn't always be like that, and the one he had learned best in this relationship with you was patience.

rafe hadn't expected that he would have to constantly be reminding you about that word though. horny and impatient as you are, rafe knows better than to give in and push your limits. things with you are sometimes one step forward, two steps backwards, and so he's decided for both of you how to proceed.

unfortunately, sometimes you make it hard to stay patient. a well-timed short skirt or pretty dress, even the way you flutter your eyelashes and smile shyly at him has him reconsidering.

like today.

your skirt was pushed up, panties somewhere between your knees, while your boyfriend railed into you from behind. this is one of those things you wanted, one of the times you were actually begging for it—which had resulted in cutting lunch short early and driving back home at double the speed limit.

you're folded over, hands gripping rafe's headboard and face pressed into his bed. all around you, the scent and feeling of rafe overwhelms every sense, and mind unable to think, you let out moans muffled by his pillow.

your stomach tightens with every deliberate thrust, walls clenching around rafe and making him groan from behind you. rafe's stretching you out exactly how you need, in such a way that it's almost too much. all of it is, his hand gripping your hip and the other on the back of your neck, holding you in place. the way you know if you looked back, you'd see your boyfriend looming over you, face twisted in pleasure, probably grunting dirty words that will make you blush.

"y'like that, kid? i bet you do-" it comes out in grunts, between thrusts. you moan out an answer, but then you realize what rafe is really talking about, feeling his hand on your sensitive clit, rubbing you roughly while your body spasms.

it's too much now if it wasn't already. you pull away from him, trying to crawl up the bed and escape the overstimulation. you grasp at sheets when you feel it.

rafe grips both your hips tightly and pulls you back to him, your hand loosening immediately as you're yanked back. holding you down, he keeps pounding into you.

"don't run from it, baby. you're fine."

and if rafe says you're fine, then you're fine.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hii, i recently dropped out of uni because i realised it was Not my thing, and now I'm looking for something that is. I'm wondering how you got into sex education and if you could tell me a bit avout what it's like to be a sex educator? It's something i might be interested in but im just not sure how the whole thing works or where to begin

okay I want to be so clear up front. if you're asking because you want to do sex education as a paying job, I can't help you with that. I've been paid for a sex ed gig exactly one time. everything I do online, the workshops I lead at conferences and stuff, the OWL classes I teach - I don't get paid for any of that. this is not my day job. I got into doing internet sex ed as an undergrad getting a degree in gender and women's studies, by posting on my blog about the inequalities I was noticing in my younger sister's sex ed class at the time. this was a very happy accident, but it was an accident. and I can't really tell you how to make money doing it.

[zaczenemiji]

Curtain Calls and Curveballs III

Kenji Sato x Reader

Synopsis: Your long-standing feud transformed into a legendary public dynamic where you navigate your high-profile careers, and confront your true feelings.

Word Count: 1,629

Genre/Warning: Confessions, Enemies to Lover, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn

Author’s Note: The last part aaaaaa im gonna miss this 🤧

PART ONE | PART TWO

MASTERLIST

With every passing year, you were getting a step closer to your dream. The stage became a set and curtain calls became wrap parties. You no longer had rehearsals, you had takes.

There’s no audience, there’s cameras instead. Your live performances were now edited ones, and changing costumes didn’t have to be done so quickly anymore.

Projected voices and exaggerated gestures were no longer your thing. You were now more subtle—nuanced. Micro-expressions and quieter dialogues became your new thing.

These are the many changes you went through to become who you are today, the It Girl of Hollywood. You were known for your sharp wit and an even sharper tongue; thanks to the thorn on your side since high school.

Your rivalry with Kenji became the stuff of tabloid legend. Your public feud became a part of your brands. This time around, though, it was you who had the unerring knack for getting under his skin.

How the tables have turned, indeed. And Kenji looked forward to your verbal sparring matches even more so than before.

Whenever Kenji had a big game, you would inevitably tweet something snarky. And whenever you had a new movie release, he would make a point to mock you in interviews.

It was a dance you two perfected through the years; one that hid the truth neither was willing to admit. The world knows, oh they do. “The more you hate, the more you love,” as they said.

Your one-of-a-kind relationship with Kenji is all over social media, with fans and fellow celebrities alike piqued by your long-standing rivalry of sorts.

“Okay, (y/n),” your manager said. "I need to brief you on something before we get to the studio."

The two of you are headed to an interview with your one and only enemy, Kenji Sato. The limo you were on glided smoothly through the bustling streets of LA.

"What is it this time?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “Another last-minute change?"

"Not exactly," she answered. "There's been a lot of buzz on social media about you and Kenji."

“Buzz?” your eyes widened. "What kind of buzz?”

"Well, let's just say the world is very interested in your... dynamic," she replied, smirking.

You took your phone out and started scrolling through tweets, heart racing as you read the comments from various celebrities.

You couldn't help but smile at the comments, a mix of embarrassment and amusement swirling inside you. "Wow, they really think we're... in love?"

It seems like the world ships you two. You can’t blame them. Sometimes you wonder if you’re giving too much away that they’re starting to notice.

But everyone knew already. They have done so since high school. The only ones who didn’t know, or rather, didn’t admit, were you and Kenji.

You were a study-first type of girl when you were a student. And now, you’re a career woman who loves her job. Somehow, there is currently no spot in your life for dating.

Your agency tried, they really did. They tried putting you in a love team with other actors but for every interaction with Kenji, the fans seemed to love it more.

But no matter how you deny it—to others and to yourself—there is something that you refuse to face, a repressed admiration blanketed by faux hate.

Meanwhile, in the studio, bright lights were beaming down on Kenji as he adjusted his jacket. He’s tossing a baseball form hand-to-hand as he waits for you.

In a short while, the door swung open. You walked in with the grace of a seasoned actress, smile dazzling and eyes sharp. You made your way to the stage, commanding attention.

Kenji’s smirk widened as you approached. You looked elegant and sophisticated in the chic dress that you wore. You always did. You were always so beautiful and smart, and all so dense.

“Kenji!” you said with a mock sweetness. “I didn’t know they let amateurs in the show.” You sat down on the couch next to him.

Kenji leaned back in his chair, still tossing the ball. “Well, they needed someone to balance out your overacting,” he replied.

The host, catching the vibe, jumped in with a chuckle, "Welcome, both of you. The dynamic duo, or should I say the dynamic rivals. How are you feeling today?"

Kenji shrugged, his eyes never leaving you. "Feeling great,” he answered. “Especially now that I know (y/n) here is going to try and one-up me."

You crossed your legs and leaned back, matching his intensity. "Oh, Kenji, it's not about one-upping,” you said. “It's about showing the world who truly deserves the spotlight."

The host laughed, clearly enjoying the energy between them, "Well, let's dive right into it. You two have a practically legendary history. Care to share how it all started?"

Kenji glanced at you, his expression playful. "It's simple,” he answered. “(Y/n) has always had a talent for annoying me."

You rolled her eyes, "And Kenji has always had a talent for being easily annoyed."

The host leaned forward, sensing an opportunity. "But there's got to be more to it than that,” he said. “You both always seem to have this... chemistry."

Kenji smirked, leaning closer to you, "Chemistry that explodes, you mean."

You shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm, "Yeah, the kind that blows up in your face."

The host laughed, clapping his hands together. "So, Kenji," the host said. "You’ve got a big game coming up. How do you feel about (y/n) always commenting on your games?"

Kenji chuckled, glancing at you. “Honestly?” He replied. “ I look forward to it. Keeps me on my toes."

You smiled, a genuine one this time. "And I watch every game,” you said. “Gotta make sure l have enough material to roast you."

The host raised an eyebrow, "Sounds like you two are more invested in each other than you let on."

He then turned to you. "What about you?” He asked. “How do you feel about Kenji's constant critiques of your acting?"

"I think he's secretly a fan,” you laughed. “Why else would he watch all my movies?"

Kenji leaned closer, his voice low, "Maybe I am. Or maybe I just like seeing you try so hard."

“You wish,” you met his gaze, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Please, Kenji, you couldn't handle me if you tried."

Kenji leaned ever closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Is that a challenge, (l/n)?"

“Maybe it is,” you met his gaze, heart skipping a beat. "Do you think I do not know about the flowers being delivered to my set—where they come from?”

Kenji was silenced, blush creeping on his cheeks. “Like, come on, Kenji,” you continued. “Flowers, seriously? For who knows since when—just ask me out already!”

The people in the studio gasped at the revelation. Everyone else was on the edge of their seats.

You weren’t dumb to not know where those flowers came from. It started with the very first movie you filmed and it continues until now with the latest one that has just been released.

“If you knew, then why didn’t you say anyt—“ Kenji was cut off by you, “Because I was waiting for you!”

The tension in the air seemed palpable. No one said anything, no one made a move.

“You were too busy chasing a ball! And you were so happy with it, I didn’t want to interfere!” you continued.

“Yeah, well!” Kenji said, thinking of a good comeback. “You were always paired up with another man, I didn’t wanna ruin your love team!”

“Then I’m glad none of them ever worked!”

“Thank heavens! Dinner, later at 7PM, Michelin-starred restaurant, your pick!”

“Fine!”

At that moment, everyone in the room burst into squeals. The floor beneath you shook with the intensity of people jumping up and down at the same time. Even the host stood and did a victory dance in front of the camera.

It felt as if the world rejoiced in unity. This was a memorable day for all the fans that were watching live.

The celebration of each person in the room had blurred as you and Kenji stared at each other. “Took you long enough,” you said softly. Kenji chuckled, “You weren’t so dense, after all.”

Without hesitation, you leaned close and threw your arms over his shoulder, hugging him. He hugged back, tighter, for he was also waiting for this moment for what felt like an eternity.

The screaming in the background loudened at your interaction but none of you paid mind. To you, Kenji’s hug felt warm and comfy and oh-so lovely.

The years, no matter how long it has been, were all worth it for this moment. If there was anyone who knew you best, it was Kenji. The same goes for him.

Your phone, in your manager’s care, beeped with so many notifications. Checking your account on her tablet, she was greeted by over a hundred thousand tweets in just a few minutes.

That night, the two of you didn’t go out for dinner as said on TV. Instead, you treated your team to the dinner at the Michelin-starred restaurant you picked while you, with Kenji, stayed at home.

You found yourselves dancing together in the comfort of your living room. The air was filled with a soft melody, and as you swayed to the music. Kenji realized how natural it felt to have you in his arms.

"You know," he murmured, "I never imagined we'd be here." You remembered high school, the graduation ball, your first dance with each other.

“I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time,” you said, head on his chest.

“Wow you’re even dense with yourself,” he chuckled.

“Shut up,” you replied. “And you’ve always been a dork.”

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