#Some of these Strangers are Stranger than others hehehe

[sysig]

Kissing Strangers 💋 (Patreon)

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 6

in which spencer reid and inexperienced!fem reader are finally honest with each other. complete with tears and more than a few make-up kisses.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: angst but mostly fluff, i think this qualifies as hurt/comfort, HHEHHEHHEH, lots of kissing, so cheesy, you jokingly imply he's a slut, i need him expeditiously a/n: thank you guys for being patient with me!! ilysm!! i edited this until i hated it but i hope it's satisfactory for YOU guys..... as always please please let me know what you think!! and i already started the next part hehehe

The car ride is the worst of your life. 

Neither of you speak. 

And you find yourself wishing, pleading to god that one of you will say something to fix this—but each minute ticks by and the streets get familiar and a quiet song ends and you realize you were silly to ever think a twenty minute car ride would change anything. 

Spencer was the luckiest you’d ever been and your relationship is floating away like a balloon you forgot to hold on to—nothing more than a red dot lost to the vast blue. 

Maybe for him it’s easier. You’re pretty sure it is, as you risk one or two glances at his unreadable profile that turn into lingering, obsessive looks because you’re panicking and realizing you’ll maybe never see him this close again. It’s funny and terrible how quickly you’re remembering what it was like to see him at the coffee shop for the first time—how he was nothing but a beautiful stranger, completely unknown to you and worlds away. Now you’ve had him, sort of, and you’re turning into the girl who could never have him all over again. 

When he turns onto your street reality begins to sink in. Your heart is a short fuse inside your chest as he pulls into a spot and parks the car. The rumble of the engine cuts. The headlights stay on. 

For a moment, everything is quiet. You wish you could insert your own reality into the silence—one where you’re simply enjoying each other’s company and there’s no sense of impending doom to take your breath away. 

“Do you want to talk?” Spencer asks, looking pointedly ahead where the lights shine off the back of some other person’s car. A wayward moth dips and swirls into the high beams. You watch Spencer track it with his eyes. 

“I’m not sure what to say,” you admit quietly. The weight of everything you’d like to say sits in your stomach like lead, too heavy to divulge. It’s only been a few weeks of having to carry the truth around with you and your muscles are already fatiguing. The idea of carrying it around indefinitely makes your eyes sting. You’re already exhausted. 

Maybe a stronger person would find that last bit of energy to make a final push, to save the relationship just before it falls apart. 

But you never claimed to be strong.

Deep down, you must’ve known you weren’t ready for a real relationship. You can’t handle all of this pretending to be okay with things that hurt. Even if that's the grown-up thing to do.

“I tried. I really did, I’m sorry—I’m—”

Before you can get the words out your throat tightens around them and you bury your face in your hands. 

The sound of his seatbelt unlocking and whirring back surprises you—but you’re even more surprised when he undoes yours. Still, you move your arm so it can snap back into place and then he’s pulling you into him. 

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, one hand on the back of your head as you lean over the small gap between the seats, unable to stop yourself from shedding more tears. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry.”

He’s sorry. 

For not loving you?

If it’s not your fault he doesn’t love you back—then whose fault is it? Who’ll take the fall?

But still, he’s holding you so carefully, like you’re made of porcelain. Something to be protected. Or at the very least, something to be mourned even after it’s in pieces. 

As you lean against him, lulled by the slow in and out of his breath, the inverse of yours, and the way he slips his thumb over the back of your hair in silence for a few minutes—you wonder what’s missing. Why he’s not satisfied. 

“I don’t understand you.”

The words come out flat, muffled by his coat, garbled with leftover tears. 

“What was that?” Spencer asks gently, still playing with your hair. You sniffle, adjusting your head so your cheek is to his shoulder and your lips are no longer smushed. 

“I just… I want you to explain it to me.”

“Explain what?”

You sit up just enough to meet his eyes. The movement seems to take him by surprise, but he keeps his hands on you—one slipping to your cheek and the other still loyal to your back. He brushes his fingers over the delicate skin beneath your eye and you cover them with your own in an effort to get him to stop treating you so kindly. But even now, when you’re mad at him for being so gentle in the way that he hurts you, you can’t help but seek the familiar callus on the side of his trigger finger. It’s an odd thing to anticipate missing, but you’ll miss all of him. You can’t imagine holding a hand without that familiar anomaly—a cairn to show you where he’s been and who you’re holding. 

He curls his warm hand around yours and you hold your joined fist out for him in emphasis, speaking louder than either of you were prepared for. 

“This! You! I understand that we don’t feel the same way about each other and maybe I can’t change that. But then you do this and I don’t understand why. I don’t understand why this isn’t enough for you, because it’s enough for me, and I just—I don’t know what else I can give you. I don’t know what else there is. I don’t understand why I’m not... enough.” The tears are back and flowing freely, but you forge breathlessly ahead, because you’ve finally found a way to be honest and you’re not going to stop now. Spencer is frowning, lips parted and clearly confused or shocked or something, but you continue your confessional before he has the chance to interrupt. “I want to be enough, but you didn’t even give me the chance, and I don’t think it’s fair that we’re breaking up when you didn’t let me try. Maybe if you just told me, if you explained what’s missing I could fix it and you could love me back, and—please. I just want to try. Please, Spencer.”

A car engine revs somewhere far away, echoing down the street. It reverberates for several seconds, unimpeded by any other noise. Any word, any breath. 

His voice is thin when he responds a moment later, still studying your face with a kind of scrutiny that is so indecipherable you don’t know how you expect him to respond. 

“Love you back?”

You blink. 

Your stomach drops. 

For all that you’d revealed, for all that you’d willingly humiliated yourself with your pathetic supplication—you’d meant to keep that four letter word to yourself. 

What a way to make an exit from your relationship. 

Spencer is still looking at you, keeping you pinned to your seat, and as much as you wish it wasn’t the case he’s not going to let you off the hook this time. He’s going to demand an answer, and you have a 0% chance of bursting into mist before you have to provide an explanation, so you have no choice but to say something. 

What, exactly, you’re going to say—you don’t know. 

“I didn’t…”

“You didn’t mean it.”

The response comes so quickly, sharp as a slap, that you jump back slightly, a deep frown twisting your brow. Spencer makes no effort to keep his hand in yours as you slip from his grasp. 

“That’s not what I was—”

“Just say what you mean.” Silence. “Tell me.”

It’s like he’s got an ice pick to your chest. It’s like he wants you to humiliate yourself even further, to punish you for your messy indiscretions. 

“Spencer…”

It’s a warning. You’re giving him a chance to stop this before he hurts you sadistically. Before he becomes unrecognizable. 

He swallows. 

“Please.” And then, a second later, when you’re still trying to process the quiet pain in his voice and suddenly faced with the unexpected question of who is hurting who, “please, just… tell me if you meant it.”

For the first time tonight, you notice how exhausted he looks. Slightly gaunt, even paler than usual. Shadows pool deeper in the hollows of his face. His eyes look glossy, dark crescents below awaiting to catch tears you realize you’ve never seen fall. The tonal shift has you so disoriented, so out of your body like you’re seeing yourself in his own injuries—the truth becomes the only humane answer. Even if it hurts you.

“Yes. I meant it. You know I mean it.”

“I don’t know that,” he says on a shaky exhale. “How would I know that?”

And he’s got the ice pick back at your sternum. It’s tipped in poison. The mallet trembles in the air. So does your voice. 

“You told me you didn’t feel the same. You said it was new for me and different and I was going to make things complicated and you treated me like I was a stupid kid, and—and it doesn’t even matter. This was dumb. I’m sorry I said anything, I don’t… I don’t know what I’m doing. I just.. I can’t do this.”

You’re about to open the door, every muscle tense as you wonder what the hell is wrong with you. What reduced you to the weepy, pathetic girl, begging a boy to love her despite knowing it doesn’t work like that—the same girl you’ve looked down your nose at in every film and TV show and in every high school and college hallway since you learned what self-superiority meant. Before you knew exactly what it felt like to be her. 

“Wait.”

He says your name.  

And of course you pause. 

You want a reason to stay. If you had more self-respect, you wouldn’t. But you know you’ll give him as many chances to give you an excuse as he’s willing to take. You knew that before your fingers met the metal of the door handle. 

“Just—hold on a second. Can you look at me?” 

You sniffle and wipe your eyes with the heel of your palm before turning around to face him once more. You wonder if anyone will ever have the kind of power he has over you ever again. 

The despair leaves only wisps of itself on his face—mostly he looks like he’s thinking hard about something. It’s jarring. 

“You’re talking about our phone call on Sunday, right?”

You nod petulantly with a quick teary eye-roll because obviously that’s what you’re talking about. 

Something lights in his own dark eyes as he inhales, parts his lips as if to speak, and stops himself again. Like he’s got news that he’s not sure how to break. 

“The things I said, on that call… I wasn’t talking… about you.”

Your insides feel like tangled yarn as you stare at him uncomprehendingly. 

“I mean, I was. I was talking about us. But not in the way you think, it was—” he stops, rubbing his eyes and taking a frazzled breath. “I know what it’s like to be the one who cares more. I have to assume that I’m the one who cares more because when I don’t, I ruin things. And with you, I felt like—the stakes were so high, and I thought it’d be safer for me to not say anything until I knew you felt the same. But I know that’s not fair to you so I tried to tell you over the phone that if you didn’t feel the same way it was okay. And now I’m—I’m realizing the way I phrased it was incredibly unclear and misleading, and somehow I fucked it up in a completely new way. But I wasn’t referring to you. I just didn’t want you to feel stuck with someone who can’t give you casual when you have so much ahead of you. I had no idea you felt that way about me. And I am so, so sorry that I hurt you. I never meant for that to happen.”

You blink. 

And for some reason, begin sobbing. 

Spencer freezes for a moment, then tells you to stay there and you barely have the capacity to wonder what he means as you hear his own door opening then slamming shut again. A moment later he’s on the passenger side, opening your door and leaning in. 

“Hey,” he whispers, gently pulling your hands from your face and making you turn your head to look at him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But that’s good news, right? Why all the tears, lovely? What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”

You take a shuddering breath. 

“This is all my fault, I ruined everything because I was too scared to tell you before and now—and now—”

Stroking your cheeks to wipe away the tears is a futile effort because they just keep coming, but Spencer does it anyway, and he speaks so kindly, so evenly it somehow hurts deeper. 

You were terrible to him. And he had been prepared to accept that. He thought you didn’t love him, and he was still willing to be the subject of all your cryptic frostiness and inexplicable cruelty. 

“It is not your fault. You didn’t ruin anything. I’m still right here. We’re okay.”

“But we’re breaking up, and—and I was so mean to you. That’s not okay, Spencer.”

You finally look at him. He’s close, eyes warm and wide as he looks directly into your own teary gaze, shaking his head earnestly. 

“You were confused, honey. So was I. It was just a misunderstanding. But… I know I was unkind to you. I cannot express how sorry I am for that, and the last thing I want is for us to break up, but if you think that’s what’s best, I’ll… I’ll understand.”

His voice is dangerously thin by the end, strained with impending tears of his own. But he’s eternally kind—backlit by the streetlamps and beautiful like an angel.  Whatever you want, he’ll give you. Even if it’s this. 

“I don’t want that. I don’t.” You sigh, closing your eyes briefly against the world as you realize the impending breakup had been a delusion all along. That you were going to let your insecurities and some sick pride end the relationship for you. All that despair had been for nothing. Or—maybe not nothing. You realize he still hasn’t said it back. But you won’t be a coward. It’s not worth losing him. You open your eyes.  “I just—I want us to be on the same page. And if you don’t love me yet or if you don’t wanna say it, or if you can’t, I get it—it’s okay, but if you don’t could you maybe just tell me? So that I’ll know—”

Before you can process it Spencer is leaning in, head angled to accommodate you, pressing his lips to yours so softly your breath catches and your stomach flips. Maybe softer than he ever has before, and it’s like taking a deep breath after holding it through a dark tunnel. You exhale a tentatively soft sigh against him, releasing air you don't have along with the fraught tension in most of your body. All too quickly he’s pulling away, hands still cupping your cheeks and thumbs stroking over your skin. When he speaks it’s not quite a whisper, but secret-soft. 

“How could I not be so in love with you?” 

Suddenly you can feel the world turning underneath you. Or maybe you’re just dizzy from lack of oxygen. Either way it feels good. A drop of warmth makes a splash in your stomach and slowly spreads through every vein and capillary until you’re sure you’re glowing gold. 

“Really?”

“Of course really. I’m—” he takes a breath of his own, and you realize how difficult this must be after what happened the last time he professed his love for a girl. Your chest aches for him. His voice is low and solicitous, but it wavers slightly. “I should have told you sooner. I wanted to, but I was worried—I was worried the way I felt for you was… too much. I am so in love with you it scares me. I still don’t know what to say or how to act around you. When I’m gone, sometimes I imagine quitting my job, just so I can come home and see you sooner. When I have a gun in my hands, I start thinking about all the things I would do to keep you safe, or—or just because you asked me to. And if what you wanted was for me to leave you alone, I would have done that. If you wanted me to drop everything and everyone to be with you I would have done that. And I know you’d never ask those things of me. But any of them, I’d do in a heartbeat. Which is… it’s a little scary, huh?”

The final sentence is a nervous self-effacing chuckle, which you can match in sound only—one breathy attempt at a laugh from your slackened jaw. 

When that’s the only response you can manage, he clears his throat. 

“Too honest?”

You shake your head as if in a fog. 

“No. Not too honest. But I’m just… I’m trying not to cry again.”

He smooths over your hair fondly. His own eyes are shiny and full of wonder as he studies you for a short while, like you're doing something much more awe-inspiring than sniffling in the passenger seat of his car. Then one hand is dropped to your shoulder and the other braced against your seat back. Finally, he pulls back to a more reasonable distance with a shaky sigh. It’s a sound of relief. You want to hug him, and all the past hims who have ever been hurt by anyone. 

“You, um—you need to rehydrate. Do you have anything that will rebalance your electrolytes? If you don’t I can go to the store—”

“You don’t need to do that,” you assure him with a small, watery laugh, loosely grabbing the wrist that brushes your shoulder. 

“But you need to take care of yourself. And I know you haven’t been drinking enough water because you never do.”

There’s a lingering overwrought shakiness to his voice, but it’s still the most relaxed he’s sounded since he came home, and you realize that the worst is behind you. The storm that you’d been so sure you couldn’t weather is somehow clearing up. 

“I can’t believe we almost just broke up.”

He hangs his head, dropping it to the curve of your neck and groaning. 

“Don’t say that. Let’s not think about that right now. Just—” when he raises his head again, and shakes it slightly to get his hair out of his eyes, they’ve cleared, like he’s on a mission to change the subject. “Let’s go upstairs. Will you let me take care of you?”

You give him an exaggerated nod, still sniffing, and the smile that grows on his face is like seeing the sun rise above the ocean. You love his smile. You love him. 

Spencer kisses you on the cheek. 

“Okay. Let me lock the car and then we can go up.”

As soon as you get into your apartment and turn on the light Spencer goes to the kitchen. It’s a small unit, but antique and nice enough, though you prefer Spencer’s. There’s still some tension as you observe him filling a glass with water, kicking your boots off by the door—but not necessarily the bad kind. You’re not sure exactly what it is. 

“Where are you going?” He asks as you pass the kitchen area to turn on a standing lamp in the opposite corner of the room. 

“I don’t like the big light.” A warm glow emanates through stained glass as you flick it on. 

“I know that. I just didn’t realize it was a higher priority than your wellbeing.” His tone is sardonic but he’s already switching off the overhead lighting for you. You give him a wry smirk as you finally approach and take the proffered glass from his waiting hand. 

“Ambience over everything, baby.”

His brows pinch at the cavalier sentiment—you never call him baby, so you're sure he knows it’s a joke—and he shakes his head with a humorous little huff of air through his nose, watching as you drink deeply. Your hand is shaking. Spencer notices and covers it with both of his, taking the half empty glass with one and grabbing your hand with the other. 

“Adrenaline,” he murmurs, kissing your knuckles. “It’ll go away soon. Did you get enough?”

You nod, smiling small but genuinely. Emotionally exhausted or not, you’re happy. 

Spencer strays, not far, to set the glass on the counter. Then he turns to face you, bracing his palms on the ledge and just watching you for a moment with the kind of smile that makes you nervous in the best way.

He beckons you to him with nothing more than a quick tilt of his head, and you shuffle across the floor in your socks til you’re toe to toe. Without your shoes on, he feels much taller. Still he just watches you for a moment—not that you mind. Your view isn’t half-bad. The faint warm glow from the lamp casts shadows over his face, highlighting all the perfect angles, deep brown eyes framed by dark lashes, and lips that still make you feel like a girl with a crush when you look at him. His hair is getting long. You’re unreasonably glad you still get to look at him like this. 

“Hi,” you whisper—something about the intimate dark of the room feels like a place for secrets. 

“Hi, pretty.” Spencer tucks hair behind your ear, eyes soft wherever they focus on your face like if he even looks at you too sharply you might break. “Have I told you how much I missed you while I was gone?”

He knows he hasn’t.

“Even when I was being a heinous bitch?”

Spencer laughs and it makes you smile too. The way his smile changes the landscape of his whole face will never feel any less like observing a natural phenomenon. It’s unfair how beautiful he is, and how you’re keeping him all to yourself in the dark on the fourth floor of an apartment building in DC. 

“Even then. Not sure that’s the wording I would have used.”

“I missed you too,” you admit softly. 

He maps your face with wandering eyes like he’s done a hundred times. Vaguely you wonder if he sees the same kind of beauty in you that you see in him. If he sees landmarks in your flaws and stars beyond the observable universe in your eyes. 

Spencer sweeps your hair over your shoulder, fingertips grazing your neck. 

“Can I kiss you?” He murmurs. 

Butterflies fill your stomach and you nod shyly, unsure of what would come out if you tried to speak.

His free hand settles on your lower back and brings you into him until you’re chest to chest. With his other on your jaw, he bows his head, and you angle yours up, allowing your eyes to flutter shut. 

Spencer kisses you so gently it aches in your chest, still cupping your face and stroking your cheek. You can’t help wrapping your arms around his middle—before he’s pulling away far too soon. 

And he’s laughing. 

“What were you drinking?”

You frown, flustered and trying to remember a time before his lips were on yours.

“Water.”

“Before that, baby. At the bar.”

You think back even further, head muddled even more by the endearment so that it takes you a moment to recall. 

“A Shirley Temple. Derek brought it to me. Why? Is that bad?”

“No,” he says, still smiling as his lips brush yours. “You’re perfect. You taste like candy. It’s cute.”

Oh. You feel warm as he presses another kiss to your lips—and this time you insist on him staying awhile. He’s happy to oblige. 

Spencer kisses you soft and careful at first, and then deeper, but still so slow, until you can’t help the way you’re bunching the fabric of his shirt between your fingers and rising on your toes to try and get impossibly closer. He kisses you the way you’ve been needing him to since he left, long and unhurried and sweet—and takes everything you give him, siphoning away all your leftover turmoil and angst until you’re weightless. You’re deprived of oxygen, you’re dizzy, and you don’t care at all. 

“I love you,” you breathe against him before he captures your lips again with a hum that flips your stomach, his hand rubbing over your hip. 

“Say it again,” he mutters against your mouth a second later, brushing hair away from your face. 

It comes out a little mumbled this time between kisses, but it comes out all the same. 

“Love you.”

He sighs into you—relief that mirrors your own. 

“I love you.”

It seems like the kind of thing that will never stop sounding perfect from his lips. 

A final deep kiss shortens into a series of smaller ones, and then he’s pulling away slowly, brushing the corner of your mouth affectionately. 

Both of you require a few deep breaths—a moment to let your sparkling eyes wildly chart each familiar curve and convex and shade and shadow of the other’s face—before either of you can speak. Spencer breaks the silence first. 

“I’m sorry.”

You frown, stirred from your brainless bliss by his unexpected apology. 

“For what?”

The fiery glow in his eyes dampens slightly. 

“For what I said at the bar.”

Oh.

That.

It feels like a lifetime away—memories seen through someone else’s eyes. Words like blows from a less familiar mouth. 

You look away. For a while, you’d forgotten about that. Ideally he wouldn’t have reminded you. 

At least he doesn’t make you look at him. He just strokes your hair, watching you examine the tiled counter. His voice is soft and soothing, like he’s appealing to a scared rabbit. Or maybe something angrier and with more teeth. 

“You’re not immature, or badly behaved, or thoughtless. I was having an emotional reaction, I got defensive, and I lashed out. It was unfair and unkind of me to throw those things back in your face when I know how much trust it takes for you to be vulnerable with me. There’s nothing I can say or do that will adequately make up for that, but I want you to understand that I didn’t say any of it because it was the truth. I said it because I didn’t understand how you were feeling and I was hurt. I was insecure and I acted juvenile. I am so, so sorry, honey. You don’t have to forgive me, but you do need to know that none of it is true.”

Once you bite your lip long enough to be sure you won’t cry again, you speak. 

“It’s okay,” you insist with a cheerfulness as natural as hard plastic, something in your chest twinging. “I was mean too. Like you said, we were both confused.”

“It is not. I made you cry.”

Sometimes you forget that he’s not like other people. He’ll never accept anything less than the barest truth. So you look back up at him and speak with a level of honesty that you hope satisfies him. 

“I forgive you. You didn’t mean it. And I have insurance because Derek said he and Emily would kick your ass if you’re mean to me again.”

You hear the sad humor in his voice. His hand runs up and down your back. 

“If I’m ever mean to you again, I personally invite you to kick my ass. And then let Derek and Emily have their turn.” He thumbs at your cheek, studying you in silence for a moment. “I can’t tell you how much I wish I could take it back.”

You stand up a little straighter. Spencer tracks you with his eyes, noting the way you smile slightly. 

“You’ll find a way to make it up to me.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he admits, barely a whisper and the truth of it so heavy you can feel it too. 

But for tonight you can’t contend with more weight. 

“You know what you could do right now?”

The mischief in your tone is obvious, and he hesitates, like he’s not sure he wants to let you move on from this so quickly. But eventually he plays along, pressing his thumb into the dip of your back and speaks lowly, just as you’d hoped he would. 

“What’s that?”

You smile slyly. 

“You could kiss me again.”

“Hm… I don’t know, three times in one night? Sounds a little excessive.”

“Do you want to be forgiven or not?” You huff. He smiles lazily, already dipping his head to press his lips to yours. 

“I thought I was already forgiven.”

“Apologies can be retracted.”

“Ah.” His next words are mumbled as his lips ghost yours. “Well we wouldn’t want that.”

Spencer puts you out of your misery, not bothering to warm you up to it before he’s kissing you with a deep need. It’s still languid, and not hungry, exactly—it’s more like an aching, mind-numbing thirst. It’s all-consuming, overwhelming to have all of his burning focus pinpointed on you like this. Both hands come to cup your face and you wonder if he wants you in ways that he doesn’t entirely understand, just as you want him. You wonder if anything could possibly sate this desire to possess him completely and for him to possess you, to trade corporeal forms—or if it’s just something you’ll have to live with like a metaphysical itch you can’t scratch. As he forces you to tip your head back for him, using his height to his advantage, breathing deeply against you and attempting to push himself impossibly closer, you begin to think he understands exactly how you feel. 

As soon as you’d sensed he wanted it, your lips had parted for him. He knows he could have any part of you. He knows how eager you are to give yourself to him. You’ve done everything to prove it, and yet you’ve never needed him quite like you do ask he pushes off the counter and slowly backs you against the wall, protecting your head with a hand as the paintings rattle ever so slightly. You gasp into his mouth and he kisses you greedier still, but his hands don’t stray from your cheeks. 

Not until, that is, you hook your right leg around his left, and he catches it, fingers wrapping under the bend of your knee. 

Never in your life have you regretted picking jeans rather than a skirt more than you do right now. 

But to your disappointment, Spencer slows down to a halt—pulling his lips from yours like they’d been stuck by molasses until he’s far enough away to study you wildly, panting just as you are. His hair hangs over his smoldering eyes. He’s disheveled. It’s sexy. 

“What?” You whisper, voice surprisingly hoarse.

He looses a dry, abashed laugh. The flush he’s sporting is incredibly charming. 

“I’m supposed to be playing nice with you.”

Spencer says it like it’s a mild hindrance. Something frissons in your core. You smile a little wider as you continue to catch your breath, which seems to please him. 

“Playing nice?”

“Being gentle. I’m not supposed to push my favorite things against walls when they’re delicate.”

Your face heats at the way he speaks of you—if it weren’t Spencer, if you didn’t know he really doesn’t think of you as an object, you’d be pissed. But instead all you can think about is how good it feels when he calls you his. 

“According to who?”

His eyes dart between yours and then down to your lips several times before he averts them to the wall beside you with an intensity that could burn holes through the plaster. Is that how he looks at you?

“According to me. I think… god, you're going to hate me for this. But I think I need you to kick me out.”

You drop your leg at the same time as you do your heart. 

“What?”

“I know,” he says, over-apologetically, “I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let that escalate. But we can’t… do anything tonight.” Before you can protest, he rushes to explain himself. “It’s just that it’s been a long day. It’s been a long week, actually, and I doubt either of us have slept very much, and I think you’re really drained, and probably not thinking super clearly. I don’t think you’re in the best place for decision making.”

You look pointedly down to where he still has you pressed to the wall. 

“I think I’m in a great place.”

At that he steps back, but lets his hands find yours and pulls you away from the wall—just not quite as close as before. His nose bumps against yours as he speaks low and sweet. 

“I understand that you want me to stay right now. But it’s not a good idea to associate fighting with physical pleasure. That can set some really dangerous patterns.”

“We’re not fighting,” you plead, matching his tone as you look up at him with big eyes. His fingers lace with yours. 

“You’re right. Maybe fighting was the wrong word. But we had some pretty intense conversations today, didn’t we?”

Reluctantly you nod. 

“Right,” he agrees. “Same premise. We need to be able to have those conversations without getting distracted.”

In a last ditch attempt to get him to change his mind, you give him your best approximation of the imploring, wide-eyed gaze he sometimes uses on you. Something not entirely smile and not entirely smirk twists the corners of his mouth. When he ducks down to kiss you quickly, you reciprocate, but you lack the enthusiasm of earlier. 

“Hey.” 

“Hm,” you respond, dejectedly. 

“Don’t get all grumpy because I don’t put out.”

That puts a disgruntled little smile on your face as he probably knew it would. 

“I guess you just gave it up easy to all those other women.”

He grabs your chin and gives you a final peck. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never been with other women.”

“Mhm,” you grumble good-naturedly, pushing away from him and going to the door to undo the deadbolt. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

“Wow. I really must have overstayed my welcome if that’s the goodbye I get.”

You turn back around, brows raised. 

“Oh, I was prepared to be very welcoming. This is your doing.”

“Uh-huh. Come here.”

Happily you skitter back across the few feet of wooden flooring and wrap your arms tightly around him one more time, pressing your cheek to his chest. He’s ready, winding his arms over yours and rubbing your back. It’s eerily similar, you realize as he presses his face into the concave of your shoulder, to when he’d left on that most recent case. 

But at the same time—everything’s different. 

And you won’t make the same mistake twice. 

“Hey,” you smile, resting your head on his shoulder. Spencer pulls back to look at you, a similar grin on his face. 

“Hey what?”

“I remembered what I was gonna say.”

The grin widens. He knows exactly what you’re talking about. 

“Tell me.”

“I was going to tell you that I love you. And—I hope you’re not one of those people who’s uncomfortable being told that often. Because if that’s the case I’m really going to annoy you.”

“I’m not that kind of person,” he assures. “Tell me as often as you can.”

“But you should say it back. It’s more polite that way.”

“I love you,” he murmurs, in a voice more serious than your teasing tones had been but still soft and sweet around the edges. “You know, people talk about love as if it’s completely irrational and illogical. But with you… I think the world actually makes more sense than it used to. I understand things I never did before. You’ve taught me a lot.”

It’s like a lightshow in your stomach. You wonder if he has any idea the effect his casual musings have on you.

“You already knew everything.”

“Not everything,” Spencer whispers. “Not about the things that matter.”

And you’re fresh out of teases. All you can do is look up at him with big eyes again, in awe of the fact that you get to keep him after all. 

“Will you text me when you get home?” You request, voice reverent in the wake of an admission you could never hope to top. 

“I will. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nod, because it doesn’t even matter if you had other plans tomorrow. They’re as good as cancelled. 

Spencer kisses your cheek, and you get the sense that things are still being left unfinished. There’s an unresolved tension that you can’t shake, even after all the apologies and kisses and sweet words. Still, he made a point with his talk about not mixing argument with pleasure, and you’d like to respect those wishes because you respect him—even if every atom of your being shakes with desire to keep him locked in your bedroom, hidden away from the world together, for as long as you can possibly manage. 

Eventually, you loosen your hold, and you let him go. He lingers at the door, hands in his pockets, just watching you and mirroring your small smile as you hold onto the counter with an iron grip to keep yourself in check. After he finally peels his gaze away from yours and silently closes the door behind him, you stand there, staring at the wood for at least a minute.

Once you manage to shake yourself from your revery with a deep breath, you grab your glass from earlier and stand in front of the sink, watching it fill with a white jet of water. It’d be a shame to admit it to him, but maybe Spencer is right. Maybe you do need time to emotionally digest today. After all—that was technically your first argument. It seems to have left you sort of wound up. Not in a bad way, per se—maybe you just need to take a shower, let the hot water roll over your shoulders and wash away the frenetic energy that clings to you. 

Still, something tells you that you won’t be getting much sleep tonight, even if you do take the world’s longest shower. You’re simply too high-strung. You wonder if having Spencer here would fix that or make it worse. But ultimately, he’d made the call that it was a bad idea for him to stay, and you’re generally inclined to trust his judgement. 

The thought makes you laugh into your cup as you drink. Even after the debacle that was the past week, you trust him to know what he’s doing. Maybe you need to rethink that, at least temporarily, until he’s had a chance to redeem himself. 

Just then, your front door is opening with absolutely zero warning and slamming shut again before you can finish whipping around. Your heart threatens to choke you and you almost drop your glass, clutching your chest. 

“Jesus, you—”

But the words die in your throat as Spencer storms toward you, shrugging his coat off with a white-hot chill in his eyes. It’s enough to freeze you in place, heart drumming against the confines of your ribs. 

“You really need to start locking that door,” he breathes, tossing his jacket on the counter before grabbing your face and crashing his lips into yours, palms pressed to your jaw and fingers pushing into your hair. You stand there, hands hovering in air before you gain the wherewithal to blindly set the glass down behind you. Your heart is pounding as you immediately submit to the kiss, whining softly against his lips and cautiously seeking stability in the fabric of his shirt. Spencer pulls away only briefly, allowing you to gasp for much-needed air. His brown eyes are like molten gold on you, pupils blown wide and wild as he scans your face, taking heavy breaths of his own. “Anyone could just walk in.”

-

part seven

[pupyuj]

→ “your colorful secrets.” || jang wonyoung x reader fic.

— weeks after the event which you call "the weirdest thing that's ever happened all year", wonyoung approaches you about your 'strange' behavior towards her in the most 'wonyoung' way possible...

word count: 10.6k

dynamic: dom!mean girl!jang wonyoung x sub!nerd!reader.

content warnings: smut, fingering, clit play, nipple play, masturbation (for like, a minute lmao), overstimulation, mommy kink, degradation.

requested? : kind of!

a/n: well, we finally made it ya'll! 😭😭💞 i feel like i'm gonna say this about every fic i write here from now on but PHEWWW THIS QUITE LITERALLY TOOK FOREVER?? but i was more than happy to flesh this little universe out more and revisit our favorite mean girl and her awkward nerd <33 just like you guys, "magic words" is one of my favorite things that i have written so even though this kinda took me wayyy too long to finish, I WAS SO HAPPY THAT I STILL DID IT UEUEUE MEAN GIRL WONY MY BELOVED 🥺💓 anyhow, i really, really hope you guys enjoy this and here's to more mean girl wonys in the future hehehe

p.s. i hope ya'll don't get bored too easily bcs wow there's a shit ton of talking in the first half of this fic—

previous: magic words.

jang wonyoung was late. 

to class.

which wasn’t exactly all that surprising considering she thinks she can do whatever she wants. but she was never late to class. you would know—you were always waiting until she entered the room. it was like you were never calm until she appeared, but that was because you have had the biggest, lamest crush on her all year. even the professor took a pause when he called wonyoung’s name for attendance and nobody was there to respond with “i’m here, professor~” and a cheeky smile. you stared at the empty seat in the middle of the classroom, wonyoung’s seat, and wondered what could’ve been in her way for her to— 

“just hold on for mommy, ‘kay?”

you dropped your pen, covering your red face with your hands. your seatmate gave you a brief look before going back to reading her notes. did you really have to think about that first thing in the morning? well, it wasn’t as if it was all you have been thinking about for the past two weeks: wonyoung’s lips on yours, her hands all over you, her sweet voice soothing you, and her eyes looking at you like you were her last meal… you still couldn’t believe that entire thing even happened!

ever since then, things have been really weird. a lot of people looked at you more when before wonyoung fucked you, you were usually ignored which you liked. and you knew everybody whispered about you and wonyoung too. neither of you were being discreet in that room in the library that day so you heard all sorts of things from your fellow students the day after. usually about how they didn’t think you were that kind of girl, or how they never thought wonyoung would ever consider fucking ‘someone like you’. see, other people would be mad if they heard some strangers say all those things about them but actually, you agreed with them.

everything about that day went against a lot of things that you thought about yourself. well, you weren’t planning on staying a virgin forever but you really didn’t expect for it to be taken by jang wonyoung of all people!

“come on, baby. give me a show.”

you squeezed your thighs together, your heart hammering inside your chest. god, it almost felt like wonyoung was right up against your ear—talking to you and berating you for thinking about her 24/7 after she fucked you. you felt your core clench upon remembering how warm wonyoung’s hands were, how her fingers felt ramming inside you… god, you wanted it all again. but there was no way she would agree to that, right? knowing wonyoung and the kind of girl that she was, that would be the only time she would fuck you, right?

a pink jacket catches your attention, making you look up from your thighs. jang wonyoung has finally arrived. she was talking to the professor as she sat in her seat, all smiles and giggles as usual. she throws a brief glance over her shoulder, sharp eyes meeting yours. you didn’t miss the way the corner of her mouth lifted up, smirking at you as she eyed you down. you didn’t even know how the fuck she was able to do that within a millisecond of looking at you, but she did it anyway and it only made you squirm in your seat.

oh, how pathetic you were. you’ve been feeling all sorts of things after wonyoung fucked you, but you never knew what to do about them. for now, you just wanted to get through another day of being in wonyoung’s presence despite everything that’s happened. she hasn’t spoken much to you since that day and you doubted that anything was going to change—she’s jang wonyoung after all. you were probably just another hook-up to her, something she’s bound to forget about in a week or so.

(see, that was just all kinds of wrong because right at this moment, all the nosy people who were staring at wonyoung can clearly see how she spared your pitiful figure by the window little glances every other minute with a sly smile on her face. she didn’t make an effort to be discreet. she never does. when jang wonyoung likes something, she is going to let people know—she has to! or else they’ll all just think you’re up for grabs.

no. wonyoung was going to show them only she can really pull all the nice girls in this school. especially you—(y/n) (l/n), the campus’ adorably awkward bookworm who’s very endearingly clumsy despite her well-put appearance. god, how wonyoung had become obsessed with you and you had absolutely no idea.

but it was more than just your character too. for a while now, actually ever since she fucked you, something about you has been bothering her mind. it’s made her unable to stop thinking about you and truthfully, it fucking pissed her off so much that she had to brainstorm a plan, a solution, for it. which became the reason why she was late today. will wonyoung actually execute it? who knows! for now, she can stare at you scribbling on your notes and laugh to herself because she knew, oh she so knew, that every time you paused, shut your eyes, and shook your head—you were thinking about her.)

thankfully, the class ended after another hour and a half. halfway through it all, you got bored and opted to stare out the window. so much so that you didn’t realize class was over until the familiar scent of money and local fame wafted into your nose—wonyoung had walked past you, and she winked at you. you found yourself freezing up in your seat, so fucking pathetic. nobody seemed to notice what wonyoung had just done which was fortunate for you! with bright red cheeks and ears, you packed up our belongings in record time and swiftly power-walked your way out of the classroom.

the attention that was put on you as you walked along the hallways of the building was annoying, for the lack of a better word. it seems like everybody was looking at you as if this was the very first instance of a loser somehow ‘getting’ the popular girl to sleep with her. sometimes, you wish it never happened. as good as it felt, the aftermath was almost not worth it. you’ve heard cruel things being said about you after that day and to save your enrollment, you kept yourself quiet and pretended like you were unaware. except that you weren’t, so every time you make eye contact with someone and they start whispering to their friend or something, it only adds up to that pool of anger that was slowly building up from the pit of your stomach.

still, you couldn’t bring yourself to blame wonyoung for it all. you were part of the act as much as she was but you also can’t say that you brought all this attention and rumors to yourself. you blamed the other girl’s stupid reputation, actually. but it’s not like you can rewind time and make yourself leave that goddamn room when you thought wonyoung was never going to come. there was no point in dwelling on it now. it happened and you have to live with the consequences. being talked about isn’t half as bad as the threat of your scholarship getting revoked anyway.

you were right on the other side of the building when you realized you had no idea where you wanted to go. you just wanted to get out of that classroom, away from wonyoung’s sights so she can’t have you acting up in front of everybody. not that you would actually be able to make stable eye contact with her anyway. naturally, you found yourself marching towards the washroom. you were nearing to the door when you heard a few girls chattering lively.

you entered the washroom and there stood in front of the mirror were kim jiwon and shim jayoon—your acquaintances and wonyoung’s super smart best friends from one of the science programs. they were the last people you wanted to see face-to-face and for good reason! as soon as they saw you, they squealed and grabbed your arm, yanking you to stand in front of the mirror with them. “there’s the woman of the hour!” jiwon teased, lightly pinching your cheek.

“more like woman of the week—literally nobody is shutting up about you! this must feel like heaven.” jayoon nudges your arm, firmly believing that you liked all of the attention you were getting when you really didn’t. you would do anything to be invisible again.

“is this really what it feels like to be popular? i hate it,” you grumbled, earning a sigh from jayoon. “i don’t know how you guys ever manage.”

“you have an outdated opinion about all of this, baby girl! don’t you like having everyone’s eyes on you? now they’ll see how much of a pretty little thing you are—it’s great!” jiwon said. no, she was not very successful in convincing you that this wasn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened in your academic life so far. but you decided that you wouldn’t fight her on it and instead, stand idly between the two girls while they gossiped and twirled and played with your hair.

you were completely signed off from the conversation; the only thing in your mind was the feeling of wonyoung’s hands in your hair while she kissed you. unconsciously, you touched your lips with your fingers. fuck.

“oh, you’ve got it bad, huh?” jiwon teases.

“hey, don’t blame (y/n)! wonyoung’s a good kisser—i’d miss her lips too,” jayoon sighs dreamily. then she gasps and grips your forearm tightly. “do you want to fuck her again?” she asked with shiny eyes.

“w-what?!”

“where’d you get your information from, jayoon? wonyoung fucked her.”

“oh, right!”

you covered your face with your hands, “please stop talking.”

jayoon forcefully pries your hand off your face, “listen, gaeul-sunbae is having a party next week and we’ll be there with wonyoung! you should come! we’ll make sure to get you guys a room.” jayoon says with a wink. god, they’d let the two of you fuck in a house full of your schoolmates?! that would just add onto your world of troubles.

“i’m not going to any party and i’m never sleeping with wonyoung again, okay? i just—i want this all to end. i hate it when i’m looked at.” you gently wiggled yourself out of the two girls’ hold and once again marched towards the door.

“you shouldn’t have fucked her then.” jayoon says with a shrug as you reach for the handle, making you pause.

“she fucked me.” you corrected your friend before swinging the door open and exiting the washroom.

“yeah jayoon get your facts straight!” you heard jiwon laugh as you bolted out of the washroom. you rolled your eyes, shaking your head, and glaring at the first person you saw in the hallway. the person in question raised an eyebrow before turning to talk with his friend, eyes lingering on your leaving figure.

gosh, this school was a nightmare.

nevertheless, you survive the long walk back to your classroom without sparing another person a glance. did you bump into people because you absolutely refused to look up? yes! did you care? not at all. it was much, much better than dealing with the scrutiny in everyone’s eyes. apparently, sex was only a problem when the girl who wanted nothing to do with it actually did it. every time you remembered how everyone in the library looked at you after you and wonyoung left that private room, you wanted to scream. literally. all of the negative things that came after the event made you forget about the sweet stuff. like the way wonyoung insisted on driving you home, how she walked you to a bus stop when you refused to ride with her, how she patiently and wordlessly waited for your bus with you, and how she gave you a kiss on the cheek when your bus did arrive.

but what good was having wonyoung’s attention if everybody was also going to look at you, but in a worse light?

you knew it probably wasn’t fair, but you grew a tiny bit of resentment towards the popular girl.

you entered your classroom after a deep breath—eyes glued to the ground and hands hidden under the straps of your backpack. it felt like you were back in high school all over again. this sucked so bad. but unfortunately, getting to your seat was only a bumpy road! all you had to do was not look up and start reading material once you’ve sat down. it should be so easy. of course, fate had other ideas.

wonyoung had bumped into you while walking towards her own seat, forcing you to tear your gaze from the ground to look at her. oh, she was so pretty—no, (y/n)! “sorry.” wonyoung says with a cheeky smile. (she was excited that she finally got you to look at her. and as expected…) you blushed, merely looking away from the other girl before rushing to your seat. you heard a few giggles behind you which only confirmed your suspicions—it was definitely planned. it didn’t help that your cheeks and ears were flushed red… gosh, even your neck felt warm. you know what also didn’t help? how wonyoung’s intense gaze didn’t leave your figure for a while. you could feel her staring at you like you were some piece of meat for her to devour and you weren’t even exaggerating by saying all that!

it was the same kind of look she was giving you right before she kissed you that day. despite your resistance, you met wonyoung’s stare. you noticed that she was surprised to see you raise your head, but it looked like it pleased her more than anything. wonyoung tilts her head and smiles slyly at you while her eyes travel from your hands, your exposed thighs, to your legs… now who knew jang wonyoung could be such a pervert? you squeezed your thighs together, glaring slightly at wonyoung who merely giggled before finally turning around and facing the front.

things like that—wonyoung’s attention, her interest, her affection—were the only good to come out from that hook-up. the rest? the side-eyes, the rumors, the whispers, the unwanted popularity spike? you wanted nothing to do with it. but, again, it wasn’t like you could reverse time.

so, you were going to do what you’ve always been good at: hide yourself to the point of invisibility. it’s never failed you before, and it shouldn’t now.

the only challenge was jang wonyoung herself—will she let you out of her sight?

you didn’t want to think about the most obvious answer. instead, you tried your damned hardest to not think about her at all for the rest of the day. you poured all of your attention to the lectures, the coursework, and the notes. basically anything just to avoid hearing her voice in your head again. at least it wasn’t as bad as the first few days after she fucked you. during those times, you quite literally replayed the entire thing in your head every minute. it wasn’t surprising that you ended up failing a few small quizzes around that time.

when you’ve put every belonging you had in your backpack, you practically rushed to get up from your seat and headed to the door. avoiding every eye that latched onto your figure. you successfully passed wonyoung’s seat without trouble until…

“ah, (y/n)! finally, i can talk to you.”

ms. lim, the professor for your last class of the day, calls you. you turned around with a tight-lipped smile on your face, reluctantly walking closer to the teacher’s desk while most of your classmates walked out of the door. wonyoung was still in the room. she was staring. fuck, why is she always staring?!

“i wanted to thank you for all the help you gave last week for jiyoung’s little… ‘art for amateurs’ club.” ms. lim sighed at the name (she has always hated it but ms. kim jiyoung, her fiancé, loved it too much to change it) and smiled up at you.

“no need for thanks, ma’am. i was passing by the art room that day and i just thought i’d help.” you hear a few people shuffle behind you. more students walking out. a flash of pink walks by behind you. wonyoung. you blinked and smiled at the professor, acting as normal as you could.

“if you don’t mind, i need you to do another favor for me,” ms. lim opens up one of her drawers and carefully takes out a lunch bag from it. the professor smiles sheepishly at you. “i hate to ask my students to do little chores like this. but i’m going to be preoccupied with grading and lesson plans for the rest of the day and that idiot jiyoung forgot to grab her food from me.”

you chuckled lightly, “hard to imagine ms. kim of all people would forget about her food. i’ll take it to her, no worries.” you carefully held the lunch bag in your hands and smiled at your professor.

“thank you, (y/n). she’s been all over the place lately! worrying about this one special pupil of hers that she’s practically begging to put up a piece of her work in the walls of the art building. it’s a whole thing, i won’t bore you about it. run along.” ms. lim waves you off with a laugh. you bowed to the professor before happily exiting the classroom with ms. kim’s lunch bag in hand. when you left the room, you saw that the hallways were still quite full with students lounging about—looks like it wasn’t going to be an easy walk to the fine arts building but oh well.

the first hurdle was squeezing through a crowd of jocks from different teams creating a ruckus in the middle of the hallway. the second struggle was nearly getting picked on by said jocks when they just so happened to notice you sneaking by. thankfully, a nice cheerleader with red hair diverted their attention so you could slip away. it was a quiet and pleasant walk along the school courtyard towards the fine arts building from there, with only the wind and soft rustling of leaves accompanying you.

the building was quiet, save for your own footsteps. usually, the hallways would be filled with sounds of casual chatter and the muffled voices of instructors and students alike. you had to say though, you much rather preferred the silence. it was comforting. you were usually surrounded with a lot of yelling, hollering, and laughing which sometimes wasn’t all that bad but considering everything that’s been happening the fast few days… yeah, this was preferable.

it didn’t take long for you to reach ms. kim’s classroom, and there you were met with a vast empty room littered with half-finished paintings and beautiful illustrations created by the students and ms. kim herself. there was a backpack and a big canvas set near the back of the classroom but you pay it no mind. it was common for students to stay after school hours just to kill time or work on their projects. you put down the lunch bag on ms. kim’s desk, all the more ready to turn around and leave when a particular painting caught your eye.

it wasn’t anything special by any means. in fact, it was buried behind more colorful paintings and you could only see half of it. you approached the painting, looking around the other canvases just to see it in full. it didn’t look finished, but then again maybe that was part of the appeal. the painting was that of an arrangement of beautiful flowers in a jar, they were wilting. or maybe they were just coming to life, looking at the soft streams of sunlight that shone down on them.

regardless, you didn’t have the luxury to analyze the painting any further when you heard shuffling behind you. alarmed, you turned your head quickly and… well, fuck.

“wonyoung…”

the tall girl clad in pinks and blues smiles at you. it wasn’t a very comforting smile.

“the one and only,” well, that sounded familiar. you watched as wonyoung threads the ends of her hair using her dainty little fingers. a smirk dances on her lips while she stares you down, very much liking how she has rendered you speechless with her mere presence. a bit of a dramatic statement but it was true! “how’d you like my work?” wonyoung asked, eyes quickly flickering over to the flower painting behind you.

you followed her stare, but quickly looked back at her in shock. “you painted that?” you gasped.

“you make me sound like i’m just a stupid bimbo,” wonyoung sighs dramatically. “of course, i painted it. would anyone else’s work look as gorgeous?” ‘charming’ as ever, wonyoung flips her hair over her shoulder with a smug look on her pretty face. you turned away, very quickly rolling your eyes before settling them back on the painting. you were impressed. you wouldn’t have guessed that wonyoung of all people would have that kind of talent, but then again, she is one of the class-toppers and nobody knows who she is exactly.

“it’s beautiful.” you admitted. you heard wonyoung chuckle, but she doesn’t say much else. you don’t look back at her, choosing to stare at her painting instead. again, something stopped you from looking further into it. wonyoung stood beside you, briefly looking at her painting with a somber look on her face before quickly covering it up with her usual cheeky, queen bitch smile. it was dead silent. did you even want to speak to her? for two weeks, you’ve resented all the attention that was given to you because of her. you’ve glared at the back of her head, cursed her in your mind whenever some students whispered about you… but somehow, you’re the one who’s tongue-tied now that you were actually alone with her.

it was confusing—feelings, that is. hell, the last real face-to-face interaction you’ve had with her was on that day. when she kissed your cheek before you got on your bus.

“wasn’t expecting you to be here, (y/n),” wonyoung unzips her pink jacket, slowly taking it off before putting it on an empty seat. you watched her from the corner of your eye, she was taking deep breaths and you could hear her. then she fixes her hair and turns around wearing a glowing smile. “but this is just perfect.” she steps towards you and instinctively, you jolted backwards.

“i-i just dropped something off for ms. kim… from ms. lim, i mean. i should get going.” well, it wasn’t going to be easy! what with wonyoung being inside your personal bubble and your heart beating so fast that you can’t quite hear your own thoughts. it didn’t help that she towered over you, and again, her perfume was a fucking weapon—rendering you immobile.

“don’t be like that, (y/n). i’m upset with you.” wonyoung says with a pout. cute, but you really shouldn’t let your stupid crush on her stop you from just getting the hell away! wonyoung was fascinated with the way your eyes wandered. she knew that no matter how angry you were with her, she was always going to have the same effect on you. and it was delicious. being able to have that much of an impact on someone. 

“you never called or texted me. i was waiting, especially after i sent you home,” wonyoung stands even closer and for a second, you actually saw some kind of emotion in her eyes. dissatisfaction, perhaps. “didn’t know you were like that, (y/n).”

“i d-didn’t even think you’d want me to contact you after… after all of that.”

“i wouldn’t have given you my number if i didn’t want you begging for more of me over the phone, dumbass.” wonyoung bumps your shoulder with her own as she walks past you. the way you looked (confused and… so fucking stupid) must’ve made her pissed, judging by the way she started dragging her equipment around with her eyebrows furrowed and eyes glaring at you every now and then. you stood there awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of your uniform. you should really leave. you had things to do at home! this wasn’t a time to waste with someone who was mad at you and someone you were mad with.

all it takes was a period of silence to remind of how much wonyoung affected your life. and suddenly all the anger was back. the longer you stood there and looked at her, the more it boiled up and threatened to tip over. but you were going to be mature. you were going to leave the classroom and go on with your life, leaving it all (wonyoung) behind.

“i have a few ideas on how you can make it up to me though.” wonyoung averts her gaze from the empty canvas in front of her to you.

given the way she was looking at you—or rather, has been looking at you, wonyoung was up to no good. and if you wanted any chance to redeem the little reputation you had in this academy, you had to be strong and not get swayed by her and her pretty little face and those soft lips and that mesmerizing pair of eyes. you shook your head, “i am not fucking with you again, wonyoung.”

the taller girl laughed, “what? did it look like i was going to make you do that? gee, (y/n), it takes one hook-up to corrupt you, huh?” wonyoung laughs, a smirk making its way to her face when she sees you glaring daggers at her. “you’re going to be my muse.” she says, crossing her arms and scanning you up and down. gosh, she didn’t even bother to hide the lust behind her stare… but you could tell that her statement wasn’t a joke.

“you’re… going to paint me?” you asked. wonyoung hums, staring right at you as she pulled her hair up to a ponytail, quietly anticipating your answer while you stood idly by the windows.

“only reason i’m here is because ms. kim has been begging for me to put something of my own up in the hallways. usually i would just refuse but the lady’s been nice to me since i stepped a foot in this school so why not? plus, what’s a better subject than my latest and possibly most popular fling?” wonyoung gives you a very sarcastic smile that makes you roll your eyes. you seriously needed to get out of here.

you were more than ready to leave until you remembered the way wonyoung’s eyes looked when she confronted you about the silence you gave her. then a pang of guilt hits you the more you think about her actions after the two of you hooked up. the walking together, the waiting together, and the kiss on the cheek. maybe attempting to cut her off was a dick move on your part…

“okay.”

wonyoung’s face visibly lights up. adorable.

“where do you want me?” you asked, blushing at the sight of the cute look on her face. all of your activities can wait. you wouldn’t have been able to live with yourself knowing that you were potentially hurting someone. albeit unintentionally and the person in question being your best slash worst nightmare.

“just sit in front of me and we’ll figure it out from there.” and so, you and wonyoung get to work. well, of course it was mostly her doing the work while you just sat on a stool and listened carefully to whatever she told you. 

oddly enough, the weight of her stare wasn’t as intimidating or nerve-wracking like it usually was. wonyoung had a certain softness in her eyes as she studied your features closely, and every time you figured that she saw something she liked, something would sparkle behind those beautiful brown eyes. watching wonyoung in what seems to be her natural environment… well, ‘unexpected’ would be the understatement of the year. you figured it would be parties and social clubs and outlet malls but then again, nobody really knew wonyoung.

getting so much as a glimpse of the untouchable popular girl was truly something. and despite everything that’s happened you find yourself feeling the way you did the first time you laid eyes on her on campus during freshman year. awestruck, with your heart nearly beating out of your chest as you desperately tried to look at something that isn’t her but ultimately failing. wonyoung gives you a smile, and it wasn’t her usual cheeky-teasing one. she looked… bashful? and is that a hint of pink on her cheeks?

it was strange to see, but you ended up smiling a little at the sight of a rare cute wonyoung. the tall girl’s cheeks show a deeper shade of pink as soon as your lips curled up in a smile, making you giggle a little. not a lot of words were shared between the two of you after that as wonyoung completely immerses herself in her work. and during that entire time you just stared at her, admiring her focused state. you wondered if she was concerned at all about making a mistake—her hand moved skillfully across the canvas with the attitude of someone that was sure about their abilities. you would hear an occasional tut partnered with a quick hum and followed by a quiet, satisfied laugh, giving you the impression that wonyoung was confident about the picture she was painting of you.

you’ve never been more curious in your life. you wanted to know how wonyoung sees you. it would be from an artist’s perspective but maybe you’ll see even a spot of how wonyoung truly sees you deep inside. especially after everything that has gone down between the two of you, and especially after her reaction to you forcing yourself to forget her existence for two weeks. it’s not like you were looking for any chance of the popular girl returning your feelings, you just wanted to know if you were anything to her at all. maybe you’ll get to know it here.

“(y/n),” wonyoung snaps you back into reality. she beckons you over with a proud look on her face. “come over here. see if you like it.”

soon enough, you were standing beside wonyoung, staring at the most impressive painting in the room. it was you; sitting on that stool wearing a gentle smile, but almost half of your entire form was covered by a slightly see-through curtain and the tiniest streams of sunlight. at first glance, the painting looks incomplete or rather, abruptly finished but it looks perfect in your eyes. and on wonyoung’s eyes too, judging by the way she looked at her own work with approval.

“it’s beautiful, wonyoung.” you said with a grateful smile.

“mhm. it’s y—” wonyoung pauses, and clears her throat. “obviously.” she said, chuckling awkwardly and flipping her hair over her shoulder with less flair than usual. you did not know what the hell that was all about. (“it’s you.” wonyoung wanted to say. but she bit her tongue real quick. why? well, jang wonyoung was not one to try to woo a nerd of all things like that! but really though—it’s you. of course it’s beautiful.)

you were admiring the painting some more and the longer you did, the more you noticed just how many details wonyoung put into it. from the slight crinkle of your eyes while you’re smiling down to that tiny little scar you had on your right cheek. amazing.

“w-wait, you’re going to put this up in this building?” you asked, now blushing wildly. it’s not even that you were embarrassed of having your face put up in the fine hallways of this campus (there have been many instances of your face being plastered everywhere because of your very impressive achievements as an honor student). it’s the fact that wonyoung was involved in all of this that makes it all complicated.

“no.”

surprised, you looked at wonyoung with slightly widened eyes. she worked hard for this painting for the sole reason of putting it up, and now she won’t? maybe she sensed your discomfort at the thought of putting up a painting of you made by wonyoung, which you know would just repeat the never-ending nightmare of being surrounded by rumors all over again. you would ask the tall girl to give you a reason why, but you noticed that she was standing closer to you now, eyes darkened and very much drawing you in.

just like last time.

“for my eyes only.” wonyoung says quietly. she was referring to the painting, sure, but she was looking at you the entire time. the implication makes your face heat up, and suddenly you’re finding it hard to do anything else except to just stand there. obnoxiously close to wonyoung with your eyes constantly flickering up and down from her eyes to her lips. you remember what those lips taste like, how they feel moving against yours. what you would give to feel and taste them all over again.

“i need a break,” wonyoung’s gaze pierces through your own, inviting you in. “don’t you?”

and all it took was the slightest nod of your head for wonyoung to lock your lips in a searing kiss with her own.

god, it felt like your chest collapsed within itself. your hands immediately cup wonyoung’s cheeks, and having learned a few things from the last time you kissed her, you were much, much better at keeping up with her despite your heartbeat running a mile a minute. wonyoung’s own hands were on your hips, pulling you closer until she started undoing the ribbon on your uniform. then, she unbuttoned your shirt, forcing herself out of the kiss and putting her lips on your neck as she did so. it was hard trying to keep yourself quiet with the way wonyoung nibbled and softly sucked on your skin… which was why you just stopped trying.

“ahh… mhm, wonyoung…” your moans were met with a hum from the taller girl, whose kisses now reached your chest.

“you missed me, didn’t you?” wonyoung whispers against your skin, leaving a mark just below your collarbone where she likes it best. she tilts her head up, lips hovering over your own, only touching slightly. “you missed mommy?”

fuck, that was gonna do you in.

too embarrassed to truly admit it all, you nodded, which earned you a pout mixed with a glare from wonyoung. “i’m gonna let that go once. you’re lucky i missed you more.” eventually, you found your waist pressed against a lone desk while wonyoung continues to kiss you. you were topless now, what with wonyoung discarding your white shirt somewhere on the floor.

“w-what if ms. kim comes in…?” you asked when you felt wonyoung’s hand sliding up your thigh. surely she won’t be as careless as last time, right? the two of you were barely hiding! the curtains didn’t leave much to the imagination and the door was only halfway closed… if you weren’t careful with your mouth, some unlucky soul passing by will catch the two of you and you really don’t know if you can handle more of that. maybe you were naive to expect wonyoung to change within two weeks, because right after you asked your stupid little question, wonyoung had pulled down your panties and unclasped your bra from behind. goodness, she works fast.

the tall girl decided not to waste time and completely disregarded your question. “up.” she taps your hip, urging you to sit on top of the desk behind you. as you were getting yourself settled, wonyoung takes the opportunity to stare at you. you were as cute as ever—flushed cheeks, messy hair, lips quivering, and pretty eyes glossy with anticipation, even though you tried to disguise it with uncertainty. wonyoung couldn’t believe how easy it has been to knock down your defenses. she was so sure that even she, the jang wonyoung, was going to get rejected and embarrassed for the very first time in that library, given your reputation as a hardass.

but alas, she always gets what she wants in the end. as she should!

you pull wonyoung closer, eager to feel her lips on yours again. then she allows you to kiss her, doing the same exact thing as last time—staying still and letting you do what you want. wonyoung noticed that your kiss was softer, more careful. you were holding her face so gently, caressing her cheek with your thumb before letting your hands fall to her shoulders, giving the control back to her. it warmed her heart in a way that took her by surprise, but that was nothing compared to the pure amusement she felt when she caught you untying her ribbon.

“you’re brave today, hm?” wonyoung whispered with a smirk. she doesn’t stop you, though! she holds your stare as you let her ribbon drop to the ground, and then you start unbuttoning her shirt so excruciatingly slow. you stopped halfway through, only getting to see a little bit of wonyoung’s crimson red bra before putting your lips on her neck. and finally, for the first time, you heard her whimper.

you couldn’t see it as you were busy kissing her neck, but wonyoung was a blushing mess. she never whimpers! but with your sudden courage and the way you left the softest and sweetest kisses on her neck, wonyoung couldn’t hide it. “are you… marking me up?” wonyoung asked with a giggle.

immediately, you stopped, staring at her with half-widened eyes. “is that okay…?”

wonyoung would’ve called you stupid if the sound of her own loud heartbeat didn’t render her speechless. “don’t tell me you’re going to ask for permission if you so much as want to put your hand on my waist or something.” wonyoung said. she can imagine it clearly in her head, actually! you were too polite for your own good.

“well, consent is important—”

“yeah, yeah. how about you use that pretty mouth of yours for something worth my time, dummy?” wonyoung urges you to kiss her again, craning her neck to give you access. and you did it happily! you were so obviously excited that even wonyoung thought it was endearing, laughing lightly as you gently sucked on her soft skin. you did that for a while. how could you stop, anyway? the mix of wonyoung’s sighs, feeling her thin, dainty fingers smoothly threading your hair, and her other hand laying still on your thigh, squeezing ever so often when you do something she likes… well, suffice to say that it was almost impossible to stop.

leaning back, you stare at your work. the sight of your marks on wonyoung’s neck only made your core buzz, making you not-so-subtly close your legs. wonyoung regains her composure, eyes darkened once again before she forces her legs open, one hand slowly sliding deeper up your inner thighs while the other keeps your legs apart. “since you’ve had your fun… naturally, it’s my turn now, correct?” and of course you were nodding your head eagerly like an obedient pet, just how she likes it.

your breath gets caught in your throat when wonyoung cups one of your breasts in her hand, her face dangerously close to the other one, more than ready to pleasure you. “i was thinking of being nice since i missed you… but you made me upset with your stupid tantrum over the last time we fucked,” wonyoung feigns a smile and a shiver runs down your spine. “so, to truly make it up to me… you’re going to take  everything i’m giving to you today.”

scary. terrifying even, but how could you say no? the (y/n) of two hours ago would be really disappointed of you but fuck it. wonyoung’s got you wrapped around her finger once again and you’re going to let it happen again.

only moans escape your lips as wonyoung’s warm mouth closes around your nipple. a new sensation, and it was wonderful. you found yourself hugging wonyoung’s neck, pushing her face impossibly closer while she licked and sucked as she pleases. your cunt clenches around nothing, and you buck your hips slightly just to urge wonyoung to touch you down there even a little bit but you should’ve expected that she wouldn’t care about that. her hands were rather busy! one played with your other nipple while the other held your thigh in a grip so tight that it almost hurt.

wonyoung releases your nipple from her mouth, her lips now attacking your chest area with little bites. you weren’t opposed to it. in fact, the frustrated look on wonyoung’s face was a delight to see! “should’ve known you were going to be a pussy about it all… wouldn’t have waited up all night for your text if i did.” wonyoung tightens her grip on your thigh, making you wince. but the pain was quickly overshadowed by pleasure as the tall girl pulled on your nipple.

“how was i supposed to accept that you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore…? you were screaming my name so sweetly in the library… and i was in your head after all of that, right?” wonyoung briefly lets go of your thigh to pull your hair down, forcing you to meet her eyes. “i know you did… in the end, the campus’ smart goody-two-shoes is just a fucking slut in the making, isn’t she?”

wonyoung’s eyes shine with excitement upon seeing you look at her so desperately. she knew that you’d never take any insult if you were in your right mind… and it only turned her on when you said nothing to her, your head so clouded that you’d allow wonyoung to say anything she wants to you. the tall girl spreads your legs apart, staring at your glistening pussy before her hungry eyes pierce back into your own. “and to think that you wanted to leave when you’re all drenched like this! what would you have done if i let you go? surely not touch yourself,” wonyoung laughs, but it was a cold and mocking one. your cheeks flush with embarrassment since she was right—you can’t bear to touch yourself, which is why you’re so desperate to have her fuck you already. “you need me, and i want a pretty doll i can play with however i like. let’s help each other out, (y/n)-ah.”

wonyoung doesn’t wait for you to say anything (of course she doesn’t) and starts massaging your clit with her thumb. you gasped at the sensation, holding onto her arms and almost closing your legs up. you try to control your sounds this time around, all that left your mouth were the usual pathetic whimpering and panting but at least you weren’t loud! wonyoung didn’t like that, though. she presses her thumb harder against your clit, making you whine loudly. “that’s more like it.” the tall girl muttered under her breath. the longer she pleasured your clit, the sooner you were losing control of yourself. and eventually you were just giving into what your body wants—grinding against wonyoung’s hand, pulling her closer so you can kiss her…

you gasped sharply as wonyoung plunged her two fingers inside your cunt, and she was giggling at how you were wrinkling her shirt up due to how tight you were holding onto her. fuck did it feel good to be filled up. when wonyoung curls her long fingers inside you, you clamped your hand over your mouth, afraid of alerting anyone who may be lurking around. annoyed, wonyoung swats your hand away, “come on, i don’t want to punish you so early.” none of what she was saying went through to your head. and it wasn’t even because you were trying to be a disobedient brat but because of her pace.

she snaps her wrist with each thrust, enough to make sure that you feel every inch of her fingers inside you before pulling out. it was hard to focus on anything, even more so when wonyoung’s pretty brown eyes were raking all over your body, getting familiar with your features once again. it wasn’t everyday something catches her eye so easily, but when she entered that secluded room in the library and had the luxury of staring at you while you were asleep, she was charmed. not even she thought that she would have you on top of this table merely two weeks later—writhing under her touch and moaning her name, but wonyoung quite liked this outcome.

why, after you were so good for her the first time she fucked you, you’ve been on her mind!

“a-ah..! wonyoung…” your sweet voice snaps the tall girl back to reality. you’ve completely wrapped your arms around her neck now, how precious. wonyoung puts her lips to work, wanting to taste your skin once again. and that she does! giving you kisses from your cheek, to your jawline, to the crook of your neck and all that the way down to your chest. conveniently, the desk was long enough for wonyoung to be able to pull you down so you’d be lying back comfortably. she towers above you, a grin on her lips as she watches you try to hold on to your climax.

it was so glaringly obvious that you were close. with the way your walls clenched around wonyoung’s fingers, a few more thrusts should do it. and that made wonyoung way more upset than you can imagine. there was no way you were going to make this so short, right? but she feels it. not only have you dug your nails on her free wrist trying to hold onto her, you’ve also started whining very loudly. wonyoung, annoyed, wriggles out of your painful hold and shoves her thumb inside your mouth, effectively shutting you up. drool starts dripping down along your jawline—wonyoung wasn’t going to let you off easy judging by how she pressed her thumb flat and hard down on your tongue.

“we’re gonna make this last, baby,” wonyoung says. she sees the tears pooling in your eyes and it only makes her feel warm inside. she was getting so excited to have her way with you, and a few tears wouldn’t stop her. “and everyone’s going to know again. i know you don’t like that but this time… they’ll know you’re mine.”

wonyoung didn’t plan on saying that last part out loud but thankfully enough, you were way too busy moaning her name to even hear it. a knot tightens in your stomach and you gasp, the sensation becoming all too familiar with you now. wonyoung pulls her thumb out of your mouth and slowly slides a third finger inside your cunt—and then there it was.

“aww…” wonyoung cooed as you came all over her hand. but she doesn’t stop any of her movements. instead, she leans down, catching one of your nipples with her mouth and continuing on fingering you through your orgasm.

“f-fuck..! wonyoung, w-wait…!!” you clawed helplessly at her back. amidst your hopeless whining and moaning, wonyoung just giggles. her eyes flicker up to get a brief glance of your face, her own core clenching at how tight you’ve closed your eyes, how you’ve bitten your lower lip to the point of it hurting. she absolutely loved getting to see you undone piece by piece… even more so when you allow it to happen. which is what you finally do as you bury your hands in wonyoung’s hair, pushing her further down your chest and whimpering sweetly at every flick of her tongue on your nipples.

wonyoung wasn’t letting her hand rest, however. she keeps fingering you in a semi-fast pace, hoping to edge you closer to another orgasm. clearly, she was taking advantage of your dazed state and in all honesty, of her own adrenaline-driven state. in her right mind, she would have let you cum the first time and stop there since she knew you can’t handle too much of what she can really give you but god… wonyoung just has to see you fall apart completely under her.

“someone learned a few things from last time, hm?” wonyoung teased as she gently massaged your clit in circles with her thumb. “you’re taking it so well. good.”

you gasped loudly as she plunges her fingers knuckle-deep inside your walls again, now thrusting faster than ever. wonyoung completely gets lost at the feeling of your warmth around her fingers. with her towering above you, she was distracting enough for your mind to wander elsewhere. every so often you’d notice the way she slightly bit her lower lip, whimper quietly, and huff as she fucked you… and as your eyes trail down lower (as low as you could, anyway), you saw that the tall girl had been clenching her thighs together. gods, wonyoung looked so hot being desperate like this.

it made you blush, how much she wanted to feel as good as she was making you feel good. next time, you are going to make sure to return the favor. it was what she deserves, as much of a pain in the ass she was.

“are you okay, (y/n)…?” wonyoung, concerned that you have spaced out, asked. her thrusts have slowed and her eyes are now softer.

you nodded meekly, “yes, mommy.” the nickname slipped out so naturally that it caught wonyoung off guard. and was she… blushing? flustered, even?

(wonyoung wouldn’t even know where to start if someone were to ask about the hold you have on her. it almost sucks that you don’t know about it, but wonyoung’s pride wouldn’t let her admit it outright. not yet, anyway.)

“we’re almost done.” wonyoung regains her composure. she completely pins one of your wrists down with her free hand, the other ramming inside your walls out of control, and her forehead nearly touching yours while you moaned helplessly. with your one hand, you clutched the edge of the desk, refusing to hurt wonyoung any further because you knew you would make her blood had you decided to hold onto her with the way she was abusing your pussy. wonyoung chuckles slightly at how smoothly her fingers went in and out of you—her hand was completely drenched in your cum and wetness. she was practically drooling at the thought of getting to taste you.

wonyoung would rather do it from the source, but she knew you wouldn’t be able to handle her mouth. not at this state. and not with all the things she wants to do to you with her tongue alone.

she feels you clenching around her again, and she watches as tears squeeze out of your eyes. she kisses them away, whispering some comforting words in your ear before she thrusts her fingers knuckle-deep inside you. wonyoung intertwines your fingers since she knew you’d need it as you came all over her hand once again. unlike last time, wonyoung makes sure her hand is still, only pulling out as you’ve started to calm down a little. your eyes wandered all over the ceiling, still trying to get a sense of things. you could feel wonyoung’s eyes on you though, but you couldn’t tell what she was doing.

so ‘surprised’ would be an understatement when you feel her clothed, wet cunt pressed against your knee. wonyoung smiles bashfully as she slightly grinds her clit on your knee. hell, she nearly fucked you into unconsciousness—she shouldn’t have anything to be afraid of doing now. even if she has to become this spectacle for you.

“j-just need to… do something about this.” wonyoung says. her voice was a bit higher from her whines, obviously feeling so good that she can’t help but show this new side of herself. underneath her, you were a bit rattled but completely flustered and quite confused as to what you should do. not that you could do anything, anyway. you couldn’t really feel your legs and your head was still getting itself situated. you were basically watching wonyoung grind herself into you… and it was heaven.

wonyoung meets your stare and grins, “liking the show, babe?” she teased. she giggled when you covered your face with your other hand, you were so red. but you were brazen enough to raise your knee slightly and pressed it against her clit, making her moan out loud for the first time. a smile of satisfaction spreads on your face—you finally heard wonyoung make that kind of sound!

“cheeky little doll.” wonyoung says before leaning down and kissing you. she stops her grinding, having had enough for now and slowly pulls you to sit up, carefully.

much like the last time this happened, nothing much was said afterwards. you were merely hugging wonyoung while you recovered, and you’d smile every time you felt her leave feathery-light kisses across your shoulder and draw random circles on your lower back. wonyoung allowed you to hold her for as long as you needed, never worrying about how the sky has turned orange or the supposed project she was assigned to start today for ms. kim. a gust of wind seeps through the slightly open windows and you shiver. 

finally, wonyoung pulled away. “let’s get you dressed up. ms. kim should be on her way anyway.” she helps you stand on both feet and picks up the random pieces of clothing scattered around the area, almost scolding herself for throwing them around haphazardly. wonyoung was the one who buttons up your shirt, makes sure your skirt is all nice and tidy, ties up your ribbon perfectly, and styles your hair as if it was never a mess. and then she decides that you would look cute with a bit of lip tint—but also because you needed a good excuse to give people if they so happen to ask you why your lips were so red and fucked up.

you stayed still as wonyoung dolled you up. it was strange though, because at this point, she has fucked you three times and you’ve bravely looked at her in the eye then but now you can’t. every time her eyes flicker over to yours, you blink and set them elsewhere. you can’t tell her about how your pussy clenches under her gaze. you can’t tell her that if she does something so simple as this, helping a fellow girl to look presentable, it turns you on. and it probably wasn’t even because nice-and-friendly wonyoung was a rarity! it was because of that damn crush. and how you can still feel her hands all over you but ugh, you’re so tired of coming to that conclusion. 

you get it: you are morbidly obsessed with how wonyoung makes you feel! god, can i be any more pathetic?

“you’ll text me this time, right?” wonyoung asks after she is done. she has also gotten herself look as perfect as she always does. 

“i can’t exactly escape you now, can i?”

“mhm! glad you’re aware of that.” wonyoung puts on an exaggerated smile, but really, she was excited. 

you then pulled out your phone and sent wonyoung a simple ‘hi’ text message. “there. happy?” you mimicked her fake smile.

“ecstatic, actually.” wonyoung replied with a straight face as she stared blankly at your useless message. she saves your number and suddenly snaps a quick photo of you without warning, setting it as her contact photo for you. when you tried to sneak a peek, wonyoung moved away from you with a laugh, and saved your name as ‘dum’ on her phone, even waving it all over your face and laughing even more at your disgruntled reaction. how mature… and endearing.

when silence started to fill the air, you almost wanted to ask wonyoung a few things about this whole… thing. whatever it was. as much as you liked the whole doll talk earlier, you didn’t exactly understand it. were the two of you going to be friends-with-benefits now? well, more like barely-acquaintances-with-benefits. was wonyoung going to make a habit of cornering you at some isolated place and fuck you? because really, you‘d prefer a small warning before she starts using you. confused as you were, you didn’t let a word slip. you just stood there, watching wonyoung as she put up an empty canvas on the easel.

“is it okay if i rest for a bit before leaving?” you asked in a quiet voice. wonyoung nods as she pulls her hair up for a half-ponytail, only briefly looking at your figure as you walk past her to sit on the instructor’s chair at the front of the classroom.

“i’d insist on taking you home but you seem to adore public transportation.” wonyoung quipped from behind her canvas.

“you’d only find some excuse to touch me again in your car so yes, maybe i prefer taking the bus rather than that.” you replied. attempting to avoid thinking about wonyoung’s hands all over you while you sat on the passenger seat of her car was futile, thank goodness she was focused on whatever project she was working on.

“thanks for the idea.” oh you just knew wonyoung had a stupid smile on her face thinking about it all. that pervert!

although you would be lying if you said you weren’t into the idea, but that was something the two of you should save for much, much later.

for the rest of your time there, you merely sat on ms. kim’s chair. sometimes you watched wonyoung even though you couldn’t see much of her face. occasionally, however, she would peek from above the canvas to check on you and you wouldn’t look away like you usually would. you would hold her gaze, smiling softly before gazing at the setting sun outside. the only thing that was on your mind was how everything has changed now. whether it was for the better or for worse, you couldn’t tell yet.

there was no use dwelling on it. you simply have to see where things go. one thing was for sure though: jang wonyoung wasn’t going to be out of your life so easily.

you pondered on that chair for a while before you finally decided to leave. you promised wonyoung that you would text her as soon as you got home, and you knew that even though she barely gave you a glance since she was so focused, she was happy that you promised that. while you headed for the door, you felt wonyoung’s eyes follow you until you were completely gone. but even as you walked through the empty hallways once again the hair on the back of your neck stood on end and you found yourself stopping in your tracks completely on top of a flight of stairs.

“that… really all just happened. again.” you mumbled. ugh, your ears felt hot. your cheeks too. matter of fact, your entire body was just warm.

“what happened?” a chipper voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin. ms. kim has suddenly appeared beside you. you hadn’t noticed that she was already there when you turned to the corner.

“o-oh! ms. kim, hello,” you greeted, hand clutching your chest. “ah, right. i dropped off your lunch bag. ms. lim said you forgot it earlier.”

“really? thank you, (y/n). she must be very busy if she couldn’t visit me herself. i’ll make sure to tell her that you did well delivering my food.” the art teacher pats your shoulder. her smile was striking and infectious—no wonder ms. lim always looked so lovesick around her!

“no need. it’s no problem at all,” you glanced at the giant clock on the other side of the wall and felt panic rise from the bottom of your stomach. “my bus should be making its way to the stop now. have a good day, ms. kim!” and so you were off to running as fast as you could to catch your ride, leaving the art teacher baffled but quite amused at the stairs.

“never seen (y/n) a bit loose in the head like that before.”

inside the art room, wonyoung has gotten busy. the tiniest specks of paint decorated her face, her hands had become quite the mess but what mattered was the picture she was creating. she was quite surprised with herself. only earlier did she feel that familiar rush of creating something with efficiency—when she was painting you. she was feeling it again, and it was great. it has been quite some time before she felt that rush. as rich her mind was with concepts, wonyoung found it hard to materialize them in a painting for some reason. maybe she was just lazy. maybe the pictures in her head just weren’t clear enough.

but somehow you of all people—of all things, really—made it all so very clear.

“ah, the things a good pussy does to the human mind.” wonyoung laughs at her own words. she couldn’t wait to bother you all night long later.

“i knew it!”

once again, ms. kim has surprised a student. fortunately enough, wonyoung didn’t make a mistake and only flinched slightly. “hello, ms. kim.” the tall girl greeted. she doesn’t take her eyes off her canvas since she knew that the teacher was already sauntering towards her with that contagious energy she always has.

“wow. i half expected you to be struggling for inspiration as usual but you actually got somewhere!” ms. kim pats wonyoung’s head, very much satisfied at wonyoung’s progress with her work. oddly enough, wonyoung found herself blushing deeply letting ms. kim look at a personal piece from her so freely. not that she gave a fuck about keeping up her reputation even with the teachers, but jang wonyoung was nothing if not so stubbornly prideful.

because no! she cannot bear being teased about painting (y/n) (l/n) for the second time in the same day!

“is that…”

wonyoung’s blush get deeper. here it comes.

“she did say she came by this room… i see!” ms. kim laughs and nudges wonyoung’s arm, teasing the girl as if she was some kid who was having a crush for the first time in her life. incorrect, by the way! because jang wonyoung doesn’t do crushes. 

the art teacher leans back and allows herself to fully take in her student’s work. it was a beautiful painting of you, surrounded by orange and yellow colors, looking lost in thought as you gazed out the window. your face was slightly obscured by the curtain, similar to the previous painting of you that she has done. perhaps a clue as to how wonyoung truly sees you.

“never thought you’d want a muse, wonyoung! but she’s not just that, is she?”

wonyoung settles her palette and paintbrush on an empty stool, exhaling and stretching her sore shoulders. now, she wasn’t the one getting fucked but damn, did you exhaust her too! it was in the good way at least, so wonyoung can’t really be mad at you. with you in her sick little head, wonyoung offers a mischievous smile to her teacher, “my cute little secret is what she is.”

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter seventeen ⭐︎ What am I supposed to do? If there’s no you.

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of unrequited love, mean!robin, slight jealousy, this chapter is mostly written from Robin's pov and there are only a few moments of Steve's and Blondie's pov

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Robin uncovers Steve's secrets and more... but he doesn't get the reactions from her that he expected.

Word count: 6k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult and I came up with some new ideas for the story and uh, buckle up and enjoy it... hehehe also thanks for helping me, my love

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Steve’s smile seems permanent nowadays, never falling, always lingering, even when Keith is scolding him about something he had done wrong or hadn’t done at all. 

His skin is glowing and his eyes are full of happy emotions, he seems giddy, always excited about something. 

Until now, Robin was sure that she had seen him happy before – when he saw her again after she went on a two weeks trip with her mom, when his favorite movie came out and he dragged her to the theater, when he found the perfect brown coat that he had been looking for at every store for weeks. 

And yes, he was happy in these moments, but this, the happiness that is stuck on his face now, is something else, something different, something deep.

And whatever it is that is making him happy, should make her feel the same way, because he is her best friend, and all that she wants for him is exactly this – happiness. But how can she feel any positive emotions, when he is keeping secrets from her? When he isn’t letting her be part of this? When he is cutting her out? 

Robin was always sure that they would never keep secrets from each other, but it’s happening, it’s happening again for her, being pushed aside, being left out, losing a best friend – because this is what it is, right? She is losing him, he is beginning to cut her out of his life, not telling her things he would’ve normally not shut up about, because he talks about everything with her, at least he used to. 

This is how it always begins, this is always the first step of losing a friend. She is no stranger to it. 

But it hurts, it hurts worse than it ever did before. 

Because this is Steve, someone she considers a soulmate. 

Someone she thought would never do this to her. 

“What’s with the grumpy face?” Steve asks, pulling her out of her depressing thoughts. 

Robin raises her eyebrows, looking away from the passing trees, she sinks deeper into the passenger seat and turns her head to look at him, shrugging. 

“Is everything okay?” Steve asks as he glances at her with a look of concern. 

No. 

She should say no and confront him but she doesn’t know how without making things awkward, without pressuring him to talk, without risking losing him sooner than later. 

“Yeah,” she mumbles and reaches for the backpack between her feet, busying herself with it as she rummages through the tiny pockets to find her chapstick. 

“Are you sure?”

She can’t help but roll her eyes at the skeptic tone in his voice, she keeps her head low, gaze locking onto the chapstick she has been looking for, she picks it out and leans back again. 

“Yeah, just tired,” she murmurs. 

Steve keeps glancing back and forth between her and the road, holding the steering wheel tightly as he shoots her a teasing smirk, lowering the volume of the song playing. 

“Long night with Vickie?” 

Her lips twitch and despite the annoyance bubbling inside of her, her cheeks heat up, growing darker until she’s blushing red. She applies her chapstick, welcoming the peach taste on her lips. She can feel his eyes on her, and it only makes her blush deeper as she hides her face from him. 

It confirms his question and it makes him chuckle. 

“I’m glad you’re having fun, Robin.”

“Shut up,” she murmurs under her breath, unable to fight the redness off her cheeks. She closes the chapstick again, putting the cap back into place, she leans down to put it back in her backpack when it falls from her hands and rolls under the seat, making her groan and curse in annoyance. 

“Always turning into a klutz when you’re nervous,” Steve comments, causing her to glare at him. 

“I’m not nervous.”

Steve chuckles, narrowing his eyes at her, “yes you are, I mention Vickie and you’re turning into a blushing, nervous little girl with a first crush even though she is literally your girlfriend.” 

“That is so not true!” She gapes at him, despite it being true. 

He shakes his head in amusement, “yes it is, in case you forgot, you’re my best friend, I know you like the back of my hand and right now, you’re nervous!” 

Maybe his words should put her mind at ease, maybe they should be enough to show her that she is not losing him, after all, but it’s not that easy, is it? 

She only rolls her eyes in response and looks away, turning back to the window and looking out at the downtown streets now. She feels relieved to see the Family Video sign, looking forward to jumping out of his car and throwing herself into work so she can stop thinking about her depressing thoughts and giving into the fears of losing him. 

Maybe she is just overthinking, the way she always does. 

The moment Steve stops the car, Robin gets out and slams the door, opening the one to the backseat so she can look for her chapstick. She leans down and squints her eyes, patting the car mats before she stretches her arm out under the seat, trying to find it. 

Steve walks around the car and stops in front of her, his eyes flash with amusement as he takes in the sight of his best friend, her eyebrows squished together, tongue poking out between her lips, her body angled uncomfortably as she searches for her newest chapstick. 

“I swear to god is there a portal all my chapsticks vanish to?” She grumbles.

Steve snorts at her words, “yeah, I’m sure they all pile up in the upside down somewhere.” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised! Every time I buy a new chapstick it just fucking disappears!” 

“That’s because you leave them everywhere,” Steve chuckles, placing his hands on his hips as he keeps watching instead of helping. His grin grows when she throws the middle finger at him. 

The look of concentration on Robin’s face, transforms into something else, confusion and curiosity, her brows shoot up instead, her lips parting as she reaches for not only her chapstick but also something else, something soft, something lacy. She pulls it out from under the seat, hooking it around her pointer finger, she holds it up in front of her face, examining it before revealing it to Steve. 

A lacy thong. 

One that clearly belongs to a girl. 

One that surely wasn’t there a few weeks back when she helped him clean his car. 

So her suspicions weren’t right, after all – she would’ve been surprised if they were. 

Steve has been so secretive about whoever it is that he is seeing, she knows that they don’t belong to any of the girls he was hooking up with at the beginning of this year, and she doesn’t even need to see his face to confirm something she already knows. 

But if it isn’t one of them and if it isn’t a guy after all, who is he seeing? 

Is it someone he is ashamed of? 

Is that the reason why he is being so secretive, why he keeps sneaking around behind her back and not telling her the truth about something he wouldn’t have shut up about if it were anyone else? 

“Robin?” 

Steve’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts and she slowly turns around to face him, with the thong in one hand and her chapstick in the other. 

His hands fall off his hips, his hazel eyes grow wide, his lips part and his cheeks grow a cherry red when he sees the flimsy material hanging off her finger. 

For a moment, she forgets about his secrets and how much it hurts her that he is hiding from her. The look on his face is so comical, she can’t even help but let the giggles tumble from her lips as she raises back to full height, standing right in front of him as she laughs in his face. 

His cheeks grow redder and redder, making her laugh harder. 

“I-I uh–” Steve stutters, unable to come up with words to say. 

“I-I uh,” Robin mocks him through her giggles, “whose are these?” She asks as she lets them dangle in front of his face, stretching her arm out. 

Steve rolls his eyes at her, his blush continuing to grow beneath her gaze. His shoulders slump and his mind panics as he tries to think of what to say. 

What can he say? 

That these belong to Heidi or Linda or whoever else it was that he had boring sex with before you? 

Steve can’t even bring himself to lie, not even to save himself and you. 

He can’t mention another girl, just uttering these words would make him feel awful. He can’t do it. He just can’t. 

“Hm?” Robin tilts her head, wiggling her brows at him.

As he stands in front of her and he looks into her curious eyes that are layered with something more, he can’t help but wonder what would happen if he just told her. He wants to talk about it, he wants to talk about you, he wants to talk about his feelings that he could only keep to himself so far. 

But what would Robin think knowing how horrible he was to you? How horrible you have both been to each other? 

She would try to talk some sense into him and make him stop this thing between you and he isn’t ready to let this go, he will never be. 

So he turns around and leaves her question unanswered, knowing that she won’t stop until she gets the truth out of him and it makes him nervous but what can he do? 

He doesn’t see the way her shoulders slump, the way her eyes cross with defeat, the way she sighs and looks down. 

“Come on, we got more important things to do then talk about thongs, Robin.” 

“Right,” she murmurs as her teasing smile slowly falls, she throws the black lace back into the car and slams the door before she follows him into the store, staring at his back as she walks behind him. 

Steve greets Keith a little kinder than usual, he walks with his back straight and his head held high, he whistles as he makes his way into the office to clock in and she stays quiet, watching closely, observing him and the fresh hickeys on his neck, the ones that haven’t been there yesterday afternoon when he dropped her off at Vickie’s. It’s always the same exact spot, sometimes his neck is littered in them but there is always that one special spot that never misses the mark on his skin, that little spot behind his ear. 

That’s how she knows that it’s only one girl that he is seeing and she is also the reason why he is turning down all the others that have been shooting their sickly sweet smiles at him. Something he wouldn’t have done a few months back. 

“Are you bringing Vickie tonight?” Steve asks as he throws on his vest, “to game night, I mean?” 

Robin furrows her brows, looking over her shoulder at him, “game night? I figured we’d never do that again after what happened with you and uh… Blondie,” she chuckles nervously. 

Something in his eyes shifts, something in his demeanor changes for a moment. Sadness, anger and regret crosses his features and she sees it all so clearly but she isn’t surprised, she didn’t mean to strike a nerve but she knows she did. 

He felt awful after the words he threw at you, that night. 

And knowing him, he still feels the same even when you get along now. 

But there is something else in his eyes, something she can’t figure out yet. 

Steve breaks eye contact and he scratches the back of his neck as he keeps his eyes trained on the ground. 

“I uh, yeah that will never happen again.” 

She doesn’t quite understand the meaning his words hold. 

And at that time, she also doesn’t know yet, that only a few hours later, she will finally get closer to the answers she has been seeking, that her eyes will be more open to what is happening right in front of her nose. 

Because that night, she notices something she hasn’t paid much attention to before but a feeling inside of her, tells her that she should have done that a long time ago. 

And maybe, maybe she is just seeing things that aren’t there, that her eyes betray her and want to give her something just so she can put her mind to rest but even after rubbing her eyes, even after squinting and trying to see with a clear mind, the sight in front of her is still there and very much real.

The noises from the living room, the chatter of her friends and the giggles of her girlfriend as Dustin tells her a story, fade into distance as she steps closer and closer to the kitchen where Steve had disappeared to, moments after you have left the living room to get another drink. 

You’re standing by the window, face to face and way too close for two people who couldn’t even be near each other, a few months ago. A smile is resting on your face, matching his own. 

Steve leans closer to you, whispering words that Robin can’t make out from this distance and it annoys her to no end because she wants to know what he said to you, what exactly made you giggle in a way she never heard you do. 

This is strange, this is so very strange – it shouldn’t be, and maybe she wouldn’t even think anything of it had you not been fighting all the time not too long ago, because after all, you two could be just friends who are gossiping about something, the hushed whispers and the amused giggles indicate it at least. 

But you aren’t friends, are you? 

You are still just Steve and Blondie, forced to be around each other because of your mutual friends, forced to get along to keep the peace. 

But maybe things are changing, maybe you are actually getting along now and not because of her or Eddie or even the teens, maybe you are just becoming friends, actual friends.

This is the only explanation to what she is seeing. 

Anything else would just be… unbelievable. 

And still, she decides to keep a closer eye on Steve and you. 

Her suspicions and thoughts she deemed as ‘crazy’ become less and less crazy as time passes and she continues to pay attention to you both, how you talk to each other, how you act around each other, how you look at each other, how Steve behaves when he is around you. 

It’s so obvious and it’s so right in front of everyone’s faces and still, she doubts that her suspicions hold any meaning, too insane are the thoughts in her head. 

But then the signs start showing – from the pink scrunchie in his car, to the cherry chapstick on his nightstand and the second toothbrush in his bathroom, from the perfume that always lingers on his clothes to the cologne on yours, from the moments you are both not around to the lies he speaks into the phone when she asks why he didn’t come to movie night at Eddie’s place. 

And as she grows more aware of his weird behavior and yours, she also notices that there is someone else who is acting differently – Eddie. 

She notices the way he looks at you and Steve, the way the latter is getting warning glances and glares, the way you are getting soft ones filled with pity and it confirms it all to her. 

You are Steve’s mystery girl. 

Eddie knows, why can’t she know? 

Does Steve feel embarrassed about you and your shared history of hatred? 

Questions keep piling up in her brain and instead of confronting her best friend about it all, she keeps it all to herself, hoping that she won’t have to confront him at all, hoping for him to tell her about it all when he feels comfortable to, hoping that nothing changed between them, that she is still his best friend, that he will still talk to her. 

But her wishes don’t come true, Steve doesn’t make the first move, he continues on with the secrets and the lies, he doesn’t notice the implies that she makes when she asks him what he is doing on evenings he isn’t with her and the group, or the way she subtly begins to mention you. 

She doesn’t even need the confirmation anymore as days continue to pass, she figures it out on her own, she knows for sure now, her suspicions are no longer… suspicions. And yet, a certain moment, a certain sight that plays right in front of her, still shocks her. 

In Hopper’s backyard is where you all find yourselves on a warm Saturday evening, the chatter is loud and the laughter echoes through the garden. The smell of freshly cut grass lingers in the air, as does the smell of sizzling meat from the grill. 

Eddie brought Wayne with him, the older man chuckling at his nephew as he watches him stuffing his face with burgers, continuously complimenting Hopper’s ‘cooking’ skills to which the latter laughs. 

Robin snorts at Eddie, she can’t tell whether he’s high or just really hungry but the faded look in his eyes gives him away, she blames Argyle for that. 

“You should try his waffles!” El grins at Eddie, “Hop makes the best ones!” 

“You mean the waffles he pops in the toaster?” Jonathan snorts beside her, making his stepdad chuckle. 

“I mean, he puts a lot of stuff on them, it’s really good! Reeses pieces, sprinkles, heavy cream–”

“Ew,” Mike scrunches his nose, shaking his head at his girlfriend, “that’s too much.” 

“Says the boy who puts maple syrup on his scrambled eggs,” Nancy laughs at her brother. 

“Of course he does, Mike has the worst taste,” Dustin snickers before he takes a bite of his steak. “He also loves raisin cookies!” 

“What’s wrong with raisin cookies?” Hopper asks mid chew, furrowing his brows at the teenage boy. 

“Do not insult his raisin cookies,” Joyce points with a fork at Dustin, an amused smile appearing on her face. 

“Oh,” Dustin frowns at the former chief, “you don’t have taste either, damn.” 

While everyone watches the interaction between Dustin and Hopper, amused by the teenage boy and his harmless insults as his conversation with the older man continues. Robin nearly misses the whispers between you and Steve, the smile on your face as you say something to him that she can’t read on your lips. 

You sit next to each other, very closely so. 

It’s the same seats you sat in when Hopper and Joyce announced their engagement here, only this time, neither of you seems tense, you’re both relaxed, your features are soft, your smiles are real, your arms are touching and you aren’t avoiding each other the way you once did. 

The pink scrunchie is in your hair, your lips are rosy red, from the cherry chapstick no doubt. Your eyes are glinting with happiness and it seems like a rare sight to Robin – she has seen you smile before, sure, but she had never seen you happy. 

While she paid extremely close attention to her best friend, she didn’t really look closely at you, maybe she should have before. 

She watches the way you push your plate away, leaving a few bites that you can’t seem to finish, you reach for your drink and lean back in your seat, placing your hand on your stomach. 

Robin chews on her veggies, tilting her head as she tries to not make her staring too obvious but it’s difficult to look away from the both of you, especially when Steve does something that makes her eyes widen and her brows furrow in confusion. 

If there is something that Steve always hated, then it was eating leftovers from someone else, he wouldn’t even share a drink or bite into something someone else had bitten into before and yet here he is eating the food you didn’t finish, eating the steak from your plate and you don’t even seem fazed by it, it’s almost as though it’s the most normal thing for you both, like this isn’t weird. 

And she isn’t the only one who is staring in surprise, Eddie is looking at Steve with his big brown eyes. 

Neither of you seem to notice and everyone else is too busy watching Dustin bicker with Hopper to notice her and Eddie’s wide eyes or the very couply behavior from you both. 

One look under the table after accidentally dropping her napkin to the ground gives her the final confirmation when her eyes fall on Steve’s hand on your thigh and yours covering his own, your fingers playing with his. 

Oh. Oh. 

Maybe this should make her feel more surprised than it does, but really, the sight of Steve eating food from your plate nearly knocked her off her chair. 

She is confused, so very confused and lost. 

And more questions than ever before start running through her mind, nearly giving her a whiplash because it’s just too many at once and she doesn’t know how to deal with them, how to keep them to herself, they are starting to boil over and it prompts her to make a decision. 

She’s had enough of his lies and his secrets. 

She never kept anything from him, he never kept anything from her until this, until you. The sight of you suddenly fills her with anger, something she hadn’t felt before, especially not when it came to you. 

You are the reason why her best friend is slipping through her fingers, why isn’t spending time with her the way he did before, why he isn’t talking to her. 

And despite the growing rage you’re firing up inside of her, she can’t look away from you, watching how you whisper into his ear, watching the way you laugh with Eddie and Wayne, the way you help Joyce clean up and chat with Nancy, the way you hug El and Will goodbye and Max too before she hops on the back of Lucas’s bike and leaves with him and Dustin. 

She almost wants to scoff when you get in the backseat of Steve’s car instead of the passenger seat that clearly belongs to you now, you leave your scrunchies here and your lipgloss apparently too as she looks down into the cupholder, rolling her eyes at the tiny bottle. 

The sound of your laughter makes her eyes roll more intensely. Eddie jumps in beside you, neither of you are aware of the scowl on her face. 

Steve notices though, but he doesn’t bring it up, not wanting to make her uncomfortable by asking any questions she might not want to answer in front of you and Eddie. She won’t even look at him, her eyes are glued on her rings as her fingers tap against her jean clad thighs, her jaw is clenched and he can practically feel the tension in her shoulders. 

And it doesn’t go away, not even when he turns her favorite music on, not when he tries to crack a joke, nothing seems to lift her mood these days, and it worries him. 

When he stops the car in your driveway, Eddie is the first to get out, clapping his hand on Steve’s shoulder and mumbling a goodbye to him and Robin. You follow suit, smiling at them both before your sneakers hit the cobblestones and you get out as well, about to shut the door when Robin’s voice stops you. 

“Hey, Blondie.” 

The tone in her voice is a mocking one, she only uses Steve’s nickname to tease you with it, but this sounds like something else. 

You poke your head back into the car, eyeing Steve’s side profile before you train your eyes on his best friend, who is now looking back at you with a look in her eyes that is sending chills down your spine. 

“Hmm?”

“Are you spending the night at Steve’s tonight?” 

Your heart stops beating and your breathing stutters in your throat, your eyes grow wide just like Steve’s do. The chills that her looks just caused, running down your whole body and filling you with shock. 

She raises her eyebrows at you, giving you a mocking smile. 

Eddie stands behind you, frozen just like you are. 

Steve holds the steering wheel tightly, staring at his best friend with a pounding heart – he knew she would figure it out, that it would only be a matter of time after what she had found in his car. 

A sigh falls from his lips and he begins to curse at himself inwardly, feeling guilt rushing through him for lying to her, for putting you into this position, he can see the fear in your eyes and he doesn’t quite know what it means, but it makes him want to protect you from the anger in Robin’s features. 

“Robs–”

“If you are, I’m sorry but I need to talk to my best friend tonight… if we are still considered that,” she snaps at you, catching you off guard once again when she turns around after cursing you with a glare. 

Steve furrows his brows at her, pursing his lips as he shakes his head a little. 

“Sweets,” Eddie mumbles behind you, clasping a gentle hand around your elbow, “come on.” 

You blink, nodding to yourself as you gulp down the nervousness. 

Steve looks back at you before you can leave and close the door, you see the way his eyes soften when they meet your own, the way his lips twitch and he tilts his head at you, mouthing a few simple words at you, ones that are enough to give you a sense of comfort after this. 

‘It’s gonna be okay.’

It’s not just a few words, it’s a promise. 

And for some reason, you find it easy to believe, despite the nervousness in your stomach. 

Before you can say anything to him, before you can mouth something back to him, Eddie pulls you away from the car and shuts the door after Robin tells Steve to drive. 

Your best friend puts a comforting hand on your shoulder, eying your worried expression as you watch the burgundy car leave your driveway, speeding down the road and getting lost in the distance. 

A heavy sigh falls from your lips and you bring your hand up towards your face, biting your thumbnail in anxiousness. You turn around to face Eddie, seeing his face so clear despite the darkening night sky. 

He nods at you, “it’s gonna be alright, Robin is just mad, I was mad too, sweetheart… remember that.”

“Yeah but–”

“No buts,” he shakes his head at you, “I don’t– I don’t know where you two are going with this but, I didn’t make you stop, she won’t either.” 

Eddie doesn’t know why he is even encouraging this, knowing very well how badly this could end for you, but the need to comfort you feels so much stronger than thinking logically. 

“Yeah,” you whisper. 

He is right, you know he is. 

You were anxious about losing him before, thinking that Steve might want to stop seeing you after Eddie found out – but he didn’t want to stop, he might not want to stop now either, maybe things will just go back to normal after this night, you won’t let a moment like this crush the hope that has been spreading inside of you in the past weeks. 

You are the only one for Steve, right now, he told you so. 

And there has to be a reason for it. 

The hope in you, isn’t for nothing… right? 

You won’t let Robin take that away from you. 

Eddie’s brown eyes soften even further, he wraps his arm around you and starts leading you to your house, “now come on, we’ll get that ice cream pint from your freezer and watch some movies until we crash out on your couch.” 

You smile at him, feeling grateful to have him here with you. 

“I gotta thank Buckley for ruining your date night with Harrington, I missed our slumber parties.” 

You chuckle, despite the uneasiness in your stomach. 

“I missed them too, Eds.”

-

The tension in the car is so much stronger, so much bigger than it was before because now he knows why Robin was acting so weird, why she always seemed so annoyed and hurt, and he understands it, he really does, but he had his reasons to keep this all a secret from her, yet it does nothing to mend the guilt that spreads through his body. 

He lied to her and the upcoming conversation at his house already fills him with so much nervousness that it makes him grip the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turn white. 

Is this the moment where he will lose his best friend? He wonders. 

You didn’t lose Eddie, even though he seemed hurt about your secrets too, you talked it out and everything went back to normal – you didn’t lose Eddie and you didn’t stop seeing him. 

But Robin’s reaction already seems so much worse than Eddie’s, she seems much angrier, much more hurt and the way she looked at you, even made him cower in his seat. 

Was that jealousy on her face before? 

Does she think that you took her spot in his life? 

He parks the car and wastes no second to get out, taking a deep breath of the fresh air he is surrounded by now. He wants to stay here for a moment but Robin has other things in mind. She angrily makes her way up to his front door, marching up the stairs and waiting for him to follow and unlock the door – with a sigh, he complies. 

His hands shake a little as he looks for the house key on his chain, he brushes past her and keeps his gaze down, licking his lips and clearing his throat as he prepares for whatever she is about to hit him with. 

He wanted her to know, he really did, he had been dying to talk to someone about it but he couldn’t risk losing this, losing… you. 

He steps into his home but doesn’t know which way to go, which way to turn to as the gnawing feeling in his chest begins to eat at him.

Steve throws the keys on the counter and turns on the light, flinching a little when she slams the door, he runs his fingers through his hair and turns around to face her. 

He is met by her glare, an unimpressed expression resting on her features as she stands by the door, with her arms crossed over her chest. 

“Do you want something to drink–”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She interrupts him, showing a sliver of hurt when those words fall from her lips. 

Steve opens his mouth to speak, but she doesn’t let him. 

“I thought I was your best friend,” Robin mumbles with a hurt tone in her voice. 

The tension in his shoulders grows as the need to prove to her that she is still what she always was to him turns him desperate. 

“You are! You are my best friend, Robin!” 

Robin snorts and rolls her eyes at him, “mhm sure, doesn’t seem like it anymore, best friends don’t keep secrets from each other, Dingus!” 

How can he tell her that this is exactly what keeps you both together? 

That the secrets are the only thing making you his? 

Robin’s blue eyes are filled with nothing but rage and as she stares at the man she loves like a brother, she can’t help but scoff. 

“I can’t believe Blondie’s pussy is more important than our friendship.” 

Anger flashes in Steve’s eyes, the mocking tone in her voice makes him frown. 

“What the hell is your problem?” Steve asks in disbelief, not knowing this side of her, this snappy and rude behavior is something new to him. 

Her blue eyes widen and she laughs at him, letting her arms fall to her sides, “my problem is that you were both complete assholes to each other, in front of everyone! And suddenly you start dropping friends – your best friend to be with a girl that you hated! Should I count down all the horrible things you have said about her?” She yells, throwing her arms up. “Or better yet let’s talk about all the horrible things she said to you.” 

“Don’t.” Steve warns her, not wanting to be reminded of his past mistakes. He doesn’t even care about the words you once threw at him, none of them came even close to the hurtful things he said to your face and behind your back, to Tommy and Carol, to Nancy and the teens, to Robin – he can’t forgive himself for it.

Robin buries her hands in her hair, looking at him wide eyed as she laughs again, though not in amusement. 

He understands her hurt, he understands her disapproval of the lies and the secrets but he doesn’t understand her anger towards you. He thought she liked you, he thought you both were getting along. 

“How long has this been going on for?” 

Steve closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as he places his hands on his hips. 

He doesn’t need to think about it, he knows exactly how many days and weeks have passed since you started seeing each other. 

“A little over two months.” 

Robin nods with widened eyes, a breathy chuckle falling from her lips before she starts shaking her head, “wow.” 

“Eddie found out by himself, just like you did… we weren’t going to–”

“Tell anyone? Why not?” She asks, growing suspicious of the shakiness in his voice and the panicked look on his face. 

“Because, Robin, it's just… sex!” He says in frustration, like those words are meant to convince her but she can tell that he is struggling and it raises different types of questions in her head. “At least that’s what it was supposed to be…”

He had meaningless relationships and flings before, he felt conflicted about girls and sex a few times but she never saw him like this, so panicked and anxious, so defensive about a girl he once couldn’t stand. 

So she lets the questions tumble from her mouth, pushing him into giving her the answers that she wants and she watches his reactions closely, the way his brows pinch together as his patience starts to wear thin, as the desperation and the frustration clings to his features and his cheeks grow red. 

She can tell that he is trying to keep something to himself but that he is beginning to struggle, it’s going to burst out of him soon enough. 

“What’s your problem with her anyways?” Steve snaps at her, shaking his head in confusion. “I thought you liked her!” 

Yeah, Robin did like you but something about you makes her blood boil now. Those Friday nights Steve never missed to spend with her, slowly stopped. Those small little out of nowhere car rides to the stores in town, or little escapades to the city never happened again. She might have become friends with everyone else in the group… but no one understood her like Steve had. 

And now she knows the reason for her loss… had been you. A person who does not deserve Steve, not even as a friend, not after the past you two had.

“Why are you so defensive about her? I mean are we talking about the same person? She’s had called you so many fucking things in the past, and – being her friend? I might have accepted, now just fucking her!? With what purpose!?”

“There’s no purpose when it comes to that, Robin. It’s just sex and you are over fucking exaggerating!” Steve’s face was getting redder, darker, and his chest was working faster as it took in quicker breaths.

“Over exaggerating!? Well, I am sorry for voicing out the fact you and I have not been hanging out like we always have! All for a girl you hated and she hated you back! And let’s not mention that she is in the same fucking friend group Steve!” She yells at him, taking him aback slightly, “What’s going to happen when you break things off!?”

And he can only blink a few times, gulp, look at her and try to process her words. He slowly shakes his head, making Robin’s tilt to the side in confusion. 

“I am not planning on breaking things off, Robs.” And his answer only angers Robin, because she knows he is a few words away from saying what she thought he was feeling. That he likes you. That he got hooked. Stupidly so.

“Oh, so I guess the sex with her is fucking phenomenal then! Didn’t think Blondie had it in her–”

And Steve explodes. 

“I want her, Robin!” He yells as the truth begins to leave the sacred place inside of him and he can finally speak them into existence. “For fucks sake, after Nancy I never thought I would feel anything of the sort again, and she makes it feel right! All of it! I don’t want her to leave, to leave this, to leave me! I don’t know what you want me to fucking tell you! What else do you expect from me!? To tell you that I’m in love with her!?”

His voice echoes through the hallway and then, silence. 

Nothing but utter silence follows. 

Two pairs of shocked eyes staring into each other. 

His heavy breathing stops and his heart does too for a moment. 

Steve knew it, he knew he was falling for you, that he fell for you and despite it, he wasn’t aware just how bad it had gotten him already, that it was more than feelings, more than a crush, it’s love.

Realization begins to dawn on him and he breaks eye contact and looks away from Robin’s stunned face and focuses his eyes on nothing in particular as he looks at the ground. 

“Holy shit, Steve…” Robin mumbles as her angry eyes soften and sadness and pity takes over, only for him. 

She expected everything but this. 

From the moment she figured it out, she knew that there was more than sex, but she didn’t think that there was this. That his feelings run so deep, that love of all emotions is involved.

“I-I’m… in love with her,” Steve murmurs not to her but to himself. 

Robin can’t tell what he is feeling, knowing that he has only figured it out himself. 

But she knows what she is feeling. 

Out of all the nice girls he could have, it just had to be you. 

A girl incapable of love. 

A girl who will only be another on his list to break his heart, to make him suffer and leave him in tears. 

She won’t let that happen, she won’t let him get his heart broken again, especially not by you. 

But how will she do that? 

There’s shock on his face but happiness in his eyes, his lips twitch and curl into a smile as he lets himself fall into emotions he thought he’d never feel again. 

He is hopeless, as he looks back up at her and she sees the gone look in his eyes, she knows he is hopeless and done for. 

“Fuck… I’m in love with her.” 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars

[mickyschumacher]

Hi!!! I just wanna say that I really love your writings!!! Their so good hehehe!! Can you do one a mick x wolff!reader?? Maybe one where toto sets them up cause he is tired of seeing them make heart eyes at each other and not making a move HHHH. Thank you lovie!!🤍

𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐏  .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: love at times is shy and oblivious. like you and mick. but sometimes all you need is a father and a plan (with some backups!).

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 16+? (suggestive), fluff, poor humour as guaranteed, (loosely) based on the movie 'set it up', no sense of a motorhome ♡︎, mention of christian horner :(, possibly cringe, basically childhood friends to lovers trope, reader is lowkey a menace, confessions are made, toto in line for best dad award?, google translated german :0, a mess in general!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: mick schumacher x wolff!fem!reader, joão felix x reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+

𝐀/𝐍: okay so i've been waiting for a good mick plot but nothing was coming to mind but this! this screams mick! thank you so much for your praise. hope i do them justice with this although the plot holes are there!!

𝐏.𝐒: i'm curious on how people envision themselves as wolff, horner, vettle readers, etc. if you're coloured like me, do you pretend to be adopted or from a previous relationship if it isn't specified? 😭 i mean the explanation has to be viable lmao. maybe you just don't imagine?

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆

There were certain values a Wolff had. Those that were just innate.

A Wolff, more often than not, was a leader, intelligent, charismatic, good-looking, and embedded with dad jokes. Additionally, when a Wolff wanted something, they would do whatever to get it. They didn't leave any leaf unturned, they made the rounds and the effort.

It didn't make sense. You had all of those values. Yet, every time you joined the Mercedes garage, your father, Toto, found himself questioning everything.

Take now for example. He was in the beloved Mercedes garage, sat next to the best reserve driver he had ever chosen, Mick.

Parents tend to be protective of their children before they're even born. And it only amplifies after they're born. From which strangers you meet, the roads you cross, the seatbelt you have to wear to the clothes you wear, the suspiciously high phone bill and your romantic endeavours. A father's protection for his little girl was a tad bit stronger than this, special in it's own way.

Toto would do anything to protect his children, especially his little girls. And if any guy was making moves on you, right in front of him, the 'dad' side of him was just waiting to come out.

But he could only do that if someone actually made a move on you. Sure there were other guys but the one sat right next to him did nothing but shyly follow you with his blue eyes and blush in your presence.

Mick was seriously frustrating Toto and his wife. The both of them had watched the German boy watch you with heart eyes ever since the both of you had first met at the Schumacher's house for dinner. You were young back then but hell, within five minutes everyone knew that Mick was a lovesick puppy.

Years had gone by with your friendship becoming stronger. Those same years involved Mick and you being stuck to each other as if you were hip-to-hip. You attended all his races and he supported you in all your academic achievements. And oblivious to you, somewhere along the road you had also become as lovesick as he was.

Toto didn't really realise how fed up he was. He didn't want to interfere. In fact, he wanted things between the both of you to happen naturally. But he just had happen to watch the entire hour and forty-five minutes of 'Set It Up' over your shoulder instead of doing his work and he just had to do something... hell, anything.

━━━━━━━━━━━

First things first... Toto couldn't put the both of you in an elevator. At least not yet. You knew each other while the two bosses in 'Set It Up' didn't, so it didn't make much sense. You probably would never even get to the topic of your feelings. Not without a physical icebreaker of sorts.

Toto needed someone and George Russell just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"George, my boy!" Toto chorused, beckoning the British driver towards him. He slung his arm over George's shoulder, bringing him closer to him. "Do you mind doing me a favour?"

George nodded without too much thought. "Yeah sure. What is it?"

"If you see Mick and Y/N go towards an elevator, stop them and tell Y/N that a guy asked for her number, uh, who was that footballer... ah yes, João Félix, him... he did ask her yesterday right?" Toto looked over at George.

"Uh, yeah. Before you dragged her away... listen, Toto, I'm not sure I can do what you asking me to. I thought none of us were going to mess with whatever's going on between them?"

"You're young, George. One day you'll realise what 'desperate times calls for desperate measures' means. So..." Toto trailed off, eagerly looking for an answer before spotting the hesitant expression on the British driver's face. "Can I pay you do the favour?"

George blankly looked at his boss. "I'm on your payroll, Toto. You already pay me. That also sounds like extortion and bribery."

Toto's eye twitched as an exasperated sigh fell from his lips. He stared at George heavily before giving in. "Fine. You'll be out before Lewis for this week's quali."

The corner of George's mouth teetered up, working to a small grin. "Extortion and bribery... it sounds cool," He said with a nonchalant shrug.

Toto shook his head to himself. "You can try and be less British, George. Just because your ancestors colonised doesn't mean you need to take the same behaviour," He patted his shoulder before leaving, feeling George's confused expression bore into the back of his head.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Toto was a great man. But today was one of those days where George really did question him. Part of him was praying that he didn't see you and Mick head to an elevator. The scenario was so specific that well... the probability was low.

There was no way he was going to see it happen. Not even 30 minutes after he had this conversation and he had just grabbed a coffee and was now heading to Alex...

But the peak of that blonde hair and the familiar shine of your signature glasses caught George's eye. Christ.

"How is that possible?" He muttered to himself, eyeing the both of you as you waited for the elevator to go up the Mercedes' motorhome.

First in quali. Come on, George. You got this!

"Hey guys," George greeted the both of you.

You and Mick turned to him and smiled. "Hey George. How's it going? Ready for practice?"

George nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah, yeah. Good, thanks. Uh, I was just wondering about yesterday... João? Since Toto dragged you away before you could do anything but he was just wondering if you would still consider giving him your number."

George pressed his lips, seeing Mick's eyes narrow from his peripheral vision. God how had the both of you not gotten together yet?

"I didn't know João asked you that?" Mick looked at you with questioning eyes.

You blinked, feeling your heart skip a beat slightly. You weren't sure why Mick's interest was to intriguing to you all of a sudden. You pursed your lips, looking to George. "Oh? I didn't know you knew João like that."

"I... don't. It's... Kika! Kika knows him... you know... Portugal things," He laughed awkwardly, giving a helpless shrug.

"Right..." You nodded slowly. "Uh, I don't know. I mean was considering it, I guess."

"You were?" George and Mick spluttered out in unison.

Your eyes widened at their reaction. "I mean, yeah... kinda?" You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly.

George could see the German driver's head racing a hundred miles per hour. It was time to get out of this mess.

"Okay, well, if you consider it, you could probably DM him on Instagram. Don't ask Kika!" George quickly said. "I mean... you know, she gets very excited to play cupid... anyways, I have to get back to Dudley, but let me know how it goes!"

You and Mick waved goodbye, heading onto the elevator after what felt like forever.

As the doors closed, you looked over at your thought-consumed best friend. "Penny for your thoughts, Mr Schumacher?" You humoured.

Mick briefly smiled before returning to his brooding state. He folded his arms, leaned on the wall of the elevator and stared at you.

Your mouth felt dry and yet you were drowning in your own saliva. There were certain things that weren't healthy for humans: too much sugar, high cholesterol foods, and apparently air-drying your hair. And then there was too much Mick.

The folded arms and his stupid shirt brought your eyes to the muscles you had so desperately been avoiding after Mick had started to work out even more in the past year.

You cleared your throat, trying to think of another topic of discussion.

In your pondering, Mick opened his mouth. "I don't think you should give João your number," He said, bringing his hands to his side, discreetly allowing the fabric of his shorts to soak up his clammy hands.

Your eyes flickered towards his face. You raised brow. "What? Why?" You asked, feeling an uneasy ache gnaw at your chest.

"I..." Mick started, "I mean what if he's a bad guy? You know... I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

Your heart dropped. You felt like an deflating balloon: all blown up, only to be taken down. You mustered a soft smile. "I mean, you can't protect me forever Mick. What are you going to do? Vet the guy on the day of my wedding," You joked.

Mick frowned at your response. The image of you marrying someone that wasn't him was disheartening.

"I won't need to if you get married to someone you know," He shrugged. "You don't know João. You know me."

Oh?

Oh.

You almost did a double-take on your best friend. Did he know what words were falling from his lips. "So what? He's kinda cute. And a five-star FIFA player. I could take the risk. And eventually, I would know him... since that's how relationships work... communication and all," You defended the footballer.

Mick stared at you for a few seconds before blinking out of his short trance. "Right..." He said sharply, pushing himself off of the wall as the elevator opened. He struck out his arm, holding back the door. "You go on. I just remembered I need to talk to Toto."

You flickered your eyes to Mick, trying to read his face. "That's fine, we can go togeth–"

"No," Mick interjected, "it's... it's okay."

Upon the slight widening of your eyes and the startled expression lingering on your face, Mick's innate action was to internally wince. "I'll join you soon. Don't worry. I bring your favourite pastry on the way back, hmm?"

You nodded silently, taking a step out of the elevator and headed towards the lounge with a troubled feeling nagging at your head.

Had you struck a nerve?

━━━━━━━━━━━

Toto couldn't tell what he had done wrong. You and Mick were fine this morning. But after he had told George to push things along between the both of you, a sense of distance radiated off of you.

And George still got out before Lewis for the first quali. Goddamn it.

When Toto raised an eyebrow at you after Mick had slightly brushed you off to talk to Bono, you simply shrugged helplessly.

That night Toto did not get a wink of sleep. Instead, he stared at this hotel ceiling with a twitching eye.

There was nothing he couldn't fix. Whatever was going on between you and Mick right now was just a small bump in the road.

The solution?

A baseball game.

Unfortunately for Toto, baseball wasn't that popular in Brazil. But that didn't mean they didn't do them.

The plan was going perfectly. Toto had offered a 'family day' and gotten you and Mick to join him and Susie to attend a local baseball match between some of university teams. Toto made sure you and Mick were sitting behind him so you had all the privacy you needed. As a dad, he shouldn't be that happy about kiss-cam, let alone bribing the camera operators with the help of Pierre and Kika. But he wanted peace and he was going to get it.

But nothing was easy in life. And Toto could not have predicted this in a million years.

As everyone waited for the game to start, Toto timidly turned his head. He caught the brown eyes of the five-star FIFA player. Giving him a hesitant smile, he averted his own eyes back to the field, cursing himself under his breath. "Scheiße," He muttered through his clenched teeth. Shit.

The tension in the air was thick, to say the least. You sat between João and Mick with blank expression.

João, who was in town for the F1 race, decided to stay back to support a friend in the match. Obviously.

When the footballer on your right extended his hand to Mick, you sucked in a sharp breath. You heavily eyed the firmest handshake you had seen in your life. Letting out a nervous laugh, you sat down before the gesture turned into hardcore glaring.

Still, there was the hope of this kiss-cam.

Toto waited with little patience, hearing João crack jokes in Portuguese that actually made you laugh while Mick took deeper breaths.

It felt like life itself had been poured into Toto once the kiss-cam started on the public. This mattered to him more than whoever was going to win this match.

Toto's face dropped as the camera fell on you.

Your mother pointed at the camera with a gleeful exclamation. Your eyes moved to the screen, widening when you saw yourself and the man next to you.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Toto exasperated quietly.

You turned your head to the right, meeting the equally shocked brown eyes.

"In what way does he look like 'a blonde boy with the face of the greatest racer in F1 history'?" Toto said into his hands, shaking his head slowly.

Mick looked blankly at you and João on the screen before turning to you. He watched you shake your head softly, smiling awkwardly at the camera as the crowd urged you to kiss.

"Oh mein Gott," You murmured to yourself, eyes darting around in panic. Oh my God.

Suddenly, you felt Mick lean in, his fingers sliding under your chin and resting on your cheek. He turned your head slightly towards him.

Your eyes widened upon meeting his baby blues, feeling unnerving giddiness swarm you. You hoped your face screamed, "What are you doing?!"

All Mick did give a small smile, bringing his lips towards you.

Instinctively, your eyes closed, bracing yourself whatever was about to happen. All you could hope for was that this was all a dream of some sort. Maybe you fell asleep in the car?

You skin flushed at the feel of Mick's soft lips on your cheek. Your eyes fluttered open, feeling him linger for a second longer before pulling back.

What on earth?

You weren't sure if you were breathing as you felt his hand move to your leg, covering your hand and giving it a small squeeze. You moved your eyes to the screen. Mick looked unbothered while the crowd erupted in cheers and boos. You, on the other hand, looked flushed.

And Toto?

The urge to run around with his hands flailing in the air was strong.

This was a home run, for crying out loud!

Whoever said jealousy was a disease... thank you!

━━━━━━━━━━━

"Liebling, du solltest jetzt rauskommen," Your mother said to you through the bathroom stall you had been hiding in for the past five minutes. Darling, you should come out now.

You winced as you banged your head against the wall of the stall. You sighed. "I don't think I can. Do you think you can convince the staff the bring a bed? Maybe some food?"

Your mother snorted. "What are you going to do? Live here?"

"Ja. War das nicht offensichtlich?" You retorted, eyes screwing themselves shut after replaying the kiss in your head for the umpteenth time. Yes. Was that not obvious?

Susie sighed, awkwardly smiling at a woman leaving the bathroom. "Y/N... it's Mick. You can't ignore him forever. How long do you think it will truly take for Mick and your father to storm in here after not seeing you for so long?"

You sighed at your mother's response. She was. As always.

The last thing you needed was a headline on ESPN: Toto Wolff and Mick Schumacher caught barging into a women's bathroom.

Christian would have a field day!

You shuddered at the thought.

Susie's ears perked up at your grumble as you fumbled with the lock of the stall. She sported an amused smile at the blank look you gave her.

Slinging an arm around you, she rubbed your shoulder. "Come on, liebling. You got this."

━━━━━━━━━━━

"Oh thank God!" Toto exclaimed after seeing you and your mother come out of the bathroom. "You took forever!"

You narrowed your eyes at your father, avoiding the lingering eyes of a certain German boy. "Maybe next time you shouldn't feed me a hotdog at a baseball game, right?" You pressed with a raised brow.

"Hmm?" Toto mended his brows before nodding profusely. "Right! Right! Yes... that was my bad. Poor thing... you know, Mick, with Y/N being sick and all, I think you should drop her to the hotel. Me and Susie still have a date to go on!"

You and your mother looked at Toto increduolously.

"We do?"

"You do?"

Toto nodded, grabbing your mother's hand. "Yes! Okay, see you two! Tschüss!" Bye!

With a jaw-dropping expression, you watched your parents leave with a twitching eye.

You heard Mick clear his throat.

Slowly, you turned around with a small smile. Fiddling with your fingers, "So..."

Mick rubbed the back of his neck nervously, a small tinge of pink dancing across his cheeks. "The hotel?" He asked, swinging his keys around the his index finger.

Silently, you both walked out of the stadium and towards the car park.

You furrowed your brows upon seeing the orange and pink laden sky. "What the heck? How is the sun already setting?"

"I mean... you were in there for a long time," Mick shrugged.

The crisp summer evening breeze glided past your flushed skin. Your body winced at the paining silence ensuing between the both of you. You let out a small exhale. "Uh, with the thing before–"

"Yeah?" Mick eagerly turned his body towards you, on edge.

You cleared your throat at the anxious expression Mick sported. "You sighed. "Uh, that was to like... save me, right? Aus Verlegenheit? Danke für das." From embarrassment? Thank you for that.

Mick mended his eyebrows. "Verlegenheit? No. I... that was so you didn't kiss João."

You laughed nervously. "Right! So I didn't have to kiss João."

"No. So you didn't kiss João. There's a difference," Mick pointed out, eyeing your expression carefully.

Your eyes widened at his suddenly soft gaze. You looked up at the sky, hoping the breeze would cool the wave of warmth swirling around you. "That's... that's what I said," You shrugged.

Mick stepped in front of you, forcing you to look at him instead of the sky. "Why do you do that?" Mick asked.

"Do what?" You responded.

"I mean... I–just why do you have such a hard time admitting that I like you?"

You wish you had something to say. Anything. But it was as if the ability to speak had been seized from your throat entirely.

"I mean I know I don't make it obvious. I just thought we had some sort of understanding... you know... the one without words?"

You looked up into his hopeful eyes. Entranced, you leaned in towards him. Your fingers danced across his cheek just the way he had done not so long ago. You watched his eyes close at the feel of your touch, making your heart thud against your chest.

Inching closer, your thumb gently swiped over his lips, feeling his faltering exhale warm the pad of your thumb. "So pretty," You whispered to yourself, eyeing his face.

Mick wasn't sure whether you were talking about him or his lips but he didn't care.

You shuddered, feeling Mick's hand slide around your waist, bringing you closer to him.

Without waiting a second longer, you pressed your lips to his.

Mick's lips were softer than you had imagined, warm to the touch. Your stomach churned upon feeling his fingers skate under the hem of your shirt, rubbing tingling circles on your hot skin.

You hear an unrecognisable breathy gasp fall from your lips. The hair on your body stood straight as goosebumps littered your skin. All because of Mick.

Mick took advantage of the moment, darting his tongue to explore your mouth. He groaned against your lips, pushing your hips even closer to him, feeling the hard outline of his bulge rub against your pelvis.

Fuck.

You were going to combust at this rate.

Mick trembled in your grasp as your hands wandered his taut torso, lingering closely to his v-line.

He pulled away with an indescribable urgency, staring at you with small pants falling from his lips. He held your face with his hand, thumb gliding across your swollen lips. "We can't–" He sighed out, voice hoarse, "No more. Please."

Your thighs clenched at his plea, eyes falling down to his prominent bulge. You were sure he was in a lot of pain right now. The sexual tension between you to had been pent up for years now.

Your tongue darted out, swiping over his thumb briefly before faintly sucking on it. You looked up at Mick. "You're right, we shouldn't," You nonchalantly told him.

Mick's blue eyes danced with a tortured pain, following your tongue carefully. "We... fuck, Y/N," He complained, feeling impossibly tight in his pants.

"We fuck? Direct much?" You teased, removing your lips from his thumb.

Mick stared at you, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. "I was saying... we should do this properly. Not in some parking lot."

"Why not? Car sex is hot. Just imagine!" You urged, amused by the conflict in Mick's eyes.

Imagine he did.

You and him in his God forbidden Mercedes... him making sure every inch of his car was stained with you...

Mick sucked in a sharp breath. "Nope. Come on. Hotel."

You gasped humorously. "In a hotel? Mick Schumacher! Well I never!"

Before you knew it, Mick had whisked you into his arms and into his car, hoping he was not breaking Brazil's speed limits tonight.

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[owl-bones]

📕

Tell me tell MEEEE

this is a long one sldfjlskdfjsd

i had an idea the other day that i bounced off of @llamagoddessofficial and we ended up chatting about it for like. hours. so this is a kinda collab since some of the ideas were hers <3

recently i thought about a faeu thing where the MC doesn't want to leave the fae realms, but doesn't want to become a fae. so Dream strikes a deal with them; he'll let them stay, and keep them from becoming a fae. unfortunately for this deal to work they can't be human.... so he turns them into a bird.

a bird that he can change however he wants, so you'll be endlessly entertaining. unfortunately his duties as king pulls him away, and though you're not a fae... he still doesn't give you the same amount of attention as before. you're just another one of his subjects, and the king doesn't play favourites. he doesn't visit often, and instead has an attendant appointed to make sure you're well cared for.

you do not like being a bird. you can kind of tell him this during his infrequent visits when he turns you into a bird that can mimic speech, but otherwise you're stuck being mad at him as long as you can. but eventually you just get... tired. you made the deal, now you have to live with the consequences. time passes. you get used to it.

but one day Dream has a visitor. a fae you've never seen before, but one that is intimidating with his regality and imposing stature. and when he approaches you (you're a phoenix now, Dream wanted to show off) he looks... conflicted. He questions you. he can tell you're not a bird and that you don't enjoy it, that this is the result of a deal-- a curse. he doesn't like that you've been almost forgotten.

he resolves to set you free. he leaves-- you don't want him to. this is the first person in perhaps years that has given you the attention and care you crave. but he leaves.

and soon you're corralled into a little cage and set beside Dream and across from the visitor. they are playing a game. and you're the prize. you don't want to stay here. whoever this stranger is, he's treated you better in 5 minutes than Dream has this entire time. you tweet happily when it looks like the stranger is winning, and caw angrily when Dream gets the upper hand. Dream doesn't enjoy that one of his subjects is rooting for the other team, especially one that he's specifically catered to and tried to have treated well. was your room not nice enough? did your attendant not acquire your wishes? this distracts him enough that he makes a blunder, and...

the stranger wins. he takes you home with him, to the Winter Realms, of which you learn he is the king. and he sets you free. he'll turn you into whatever form you like, and you can fly wherever you wish. you can return to his castle for food if you like, or you can leave and never return. it's up to you. you have your freedom.

you do end up returning to the castle, and befriending Nightmare. he likes your company. he talks to you, he listens when you try to talk back. he gives you whatever strong and powerful forms you desire (Dream never turned you into anything too big, too dangerous... he preferred to keep you small and delicate and beautiful, fitting for his realm)

and one day he offers to turn you back. offers to gives you your speech back, your form back. you couldn't be a bird again, but you could be as close to as you were as possible. not human, certainly. it's far too late for that. but you could be a fae. you have a place in his castle, should you wish it.

you accept.

(and then romance happens hehehe)

[moonbyunniee]

put your head on my shoulder

characters ➵ kaveh, diluc, ayato, wanderer, thoma, gorou, tighnari, cyno, childe, kaeya, venti, heizou, xiao, zhongli, kazuha, albedo, itto, bennett, xingqiu, chongyun

synopsis ➵ your tired head falls on the stranger's shoulder on the train to work...

a/n ➵ hello again everyone! i haven't been posting any writing in almost four whole months!! i hope you missed me heheh :)) also, i hope it wouldn't be too much to ask for a reblog from your end? it really helps a small blog like mine :D love you all <33

he'd been minding his own business on the train to work, lost in thought about something or the other, when a warm feeling on his right shoulder had broken his train of thought. he'd looked over, and...well, he'd seen...you. he hesitates, glancing at your sleeping body resting on his shoulder. it's not as though he can't bear your weight on him, it's just...the touch is unfamiliar, something he's not used to, something he hasn't felt in what feels like an eternity. he sighs softly as you stir, not knowing whether he should wake you up or let you be. Well...it wouldn't hurt to be accommodating, now, would it?

xiao, zhongli, kazuha, albedo, ayato, diluc

a frown, or a scowl of some sort, is this man's reaction to most everything that happens to him, and he isn't giving this situation a free pass. the second he feels his neighbor seatmate's head drop onto his shoulder, he strikes his signature scowl. curse you for having the audacity to sleep on public transport anyway...why couldn't you just sleep at home? as he turns to shove you off his shoulder, though, he suddenly pauses, seeing your innocent, tired face. he curses himself internally for being so uncharacteristically soft today, but nevertheless changes his mind about shoving you off his shoulder. he'll just tell you to bring an actual pillow next time you choose to sleep on public transport. for now, he automatically stiffens himself, and prepares to lend you his shoulder until he gets to work. but this is only a one-time thing, of course...unless...

kaveh, wanderer

he blinks as he feels your head drop onto his shoulder. he already knows who you are - the tired-looking passenger who always, coincidentally, ends up sitting next to him. still, though, it's not like he knows you at all. he just pays attention to his surroundings better than most. so he finds it as almost second nature to shift himself a little, so you can be comfortable. sure enough, you unconsciously nuzzle your head into the crook between his shoulder and neck, your hair tickling his neck ever so slightly. he smiles softly, before yawning a little himself and resting his head on yours. maybe, he thinks, i could ask for their number when they wake up? just for their haircare products, nothing else...right?

childe, kaeya, venti, heizou, thoma

it takes him quite some time to process what's happening. head...pretty person...my shoulder? then it all comes to him in a tidal wave, and he gasps. ask anyone around the two of you what he acted like, and they'd likely respond with, "just like a high school boy finding his sweetheart!" he immediately went all red, his blush spanning from the back of his neck to his nose. as nearby passengers send him curious glances, he stammers and tries to clarify the situation - a fruitless attempt, really, as it seems he can't even manage to get a single word out. if only you were awake to see the impact your mere touch had on this man...he does, though, eventually calm down enough to let you have a good, undisturbed nap.

gorou, tighnari, cyno, itto, bennett, xingqiu, chongyun

taglist ➵ @melshome @pearlygraysky @whipped-for-fictionals @genshinparty @cosmicgeohoe

send an ask to be added to my taglist!!

[googleitlol]

This is a fun one, hehehe

I'm feeling a whole lot better now, so I don't wanna waste anymore time. Especially with how fun this one is >:D

Dove Masterlist:

Treasures

You sit with your back to a rocky prison, watching the sky from your spot on the ground. Around an hour has past since you found Sun Wukong trapped under this cluster of mountains, and the two of you are nowhere in terms of getting him out.

You keep his free hand in yours, an effort to comfort him and use your gift when needed. “You lost some blood, right? Do you think if I healed you, you would have the strength to free yourself?”

“I’m not sure.” He admits, humming a bit in thought. “Even if I could, I would have to leave you unprotected while I go find Master and the others. You’d be easy pickings for any demon, a wild animal, even.”

A huff escapes your lungs, it feels like you are out of ideas at this point. “If we can’t think of anything else, it might be worth the risk.” “No.” He frowns, holding onto your hand a bit tighter than before. “I said even if I could. If I’m still not strong enough, you would be unconscious and I would still be stuck, just staring at your corpse.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics. “I wouldn’t die.”

“You look dead every time you do it.” He grumbles, and you feel your shoulders slump back as you try thinking of what to do next. You still think it would be worth a shot to try and give him that extra bout of strength to lift the mountain, but from the sound of it, you will have a hard time convincing him.

While you go through other options in your head, you notice Sun Wukong quickly lifts his head up. His eyes snap towards something in the treeline, his gaze narrowing. “What is it?” You frown, trying to follow his line of sight. As far as you can see, there is nothing there, but you know better than to doubt the monkey demon’s senses.

“We’re not alone.” His voice is low, and you glance back in the direction his eyes are set on. With the two of you silent, you find that you can hear whispering.

“Hello? Who’s out there?” You call out into the wilderness, and the voices quickly hush one another before going silent.

Taking your bow in hand, you nock an arrow and rise to your feet. “Show yourself.” You glare, ready for the slightest hint of movement.

You take aim once you spot an unnaturally pale figure emerging from behind a tree, her arms raised in defence. “Please, do not attack!” She appears to have a sort of glow around her, it masks the two other figures behind her until they stick their heads out from behind her.

“We are here to help.” One from behind squeaks, eyeing your bow warily.

You frown, looking between the three newcomers. “Who are you?”

The third stranger steps forward. “We are the gods of these mountains.” He explains, gesturing to the cluster pinning down your friend. “We are deeply sorry we allowed the Silver-Horned Demon to summon our mountains here to impede you.”

You lower your bow at his words, the first god speaking up again. “None of us want to stay here, we only wish to return our mountains home.” “You can do that?” You ask, returning the arrow to its quiver.

The third one gives a nervous smile. “Yes, it’s just…” He trails off, the three deities all turning their attention to the trapped Monkey King.

He looks at each of them, his glare hardening. “What?!” They all flinch at his question, answering it for you. They are terrified of what he might do to them, knowing they let the demon summon their mountains here. It is a justifiable fear, knowing Wukong.

Realising their dilemma, you sigh. “There is no need to be afraid. I promise, the Monkey King will not hurt any of you as long as you help us.”

“Who says I won’t?” He frowns, looking almost offended. “You let that demon drop your mountains on me!”

You quickly crouch down before he can say more, flicking his head and earning a glare from the sage yourself. “And now they are offering to help. So you will not hurt them, right?” You give him a side-eye look while smiling to the mountain gods, silently praying his words won’t send them running.

He looks back up at you, annoyance clear in his eyes, before groaning. “…I promise not to hurt any of you.” He grumbles, and you reach for his hand to give a gentle squeeze in thanks. It’s enough to get a small smile from the monkey demon.

With their safety assured, the three deities come closer, reciting a spell as they face each of their mountains. It takes time, but you are able to watch nonetheless as each mountain rises into the air one by one, vanishing without a trace. 

When the third and final one lifts, Sun Wukong is quick to jump away from his prison. He nearly knocks you over with how swiftly he moves, the demon panting heavily once he is freed from the great land masses.

You quickly grab him by his forearms, using your gift to calm his nerves. “Are you alright?”

It takes him a moment to answer, a smile growing over his features as he nods and holds your arms as well. “I am… I'm fine.”

With his confirmation, you smile. Letting go, you turn back to the three deities. “Thank you, all of you. We are both extremely grateful, aren’t we?” You glance back at the Monkey King, his gaze hardening once he looks to the three owners of the mountains.

You shoulder him a bit, and he is able to let out a grunted, “Yes.”

His grumpy tone doesn’t last much longer as he spots something from the corner of his eye. He whips around, spying out westward at something that’s a little too far for you to see. “What is that?” He asks aloud, only confusing you more with his sudden interest.

“What?” Straining to look, you notice two figures on the path ahead, though you are unable to make out any detail other than that.

The mountain gods peek out from behind you, the second one answering the both of you. “Underlings of the demon brothers who rule this region, the Gold and Silver-Horned Demons.”

Wukong furrows his brows, you can practically see the thoughts racing from his eyes alone. “What is that glow around them?” He asks, making you frown. What glow?

“It looks to be two of the brother’s five treasures.” The first deity answers, and Wukong looks back at her with wide eyes.

“…Treasures?”

You don’t like the look in his eyes as she answers. “Yes, the brother’s are known for the five treasures they possess, each greater than the last and with their own fantastic abilities.”

The monkey demon smirks. “You don’t say?”

“Monkey…” You frown, crossing your arms. Now is not the time to get distracted.

He chuckles at your warning tone, shrugging casually to feign obliviousness. “What?”

“Whatever it is you are thinking, we don’t have time for it.” You cross your arms. Those demon brothers likely have the others by now, and you can’t be sure how much time they have left.

Wukong gives you a pleading look. “You heard the mountain gods, five treasures? There are five of us– as long as you don’t count the horse– we can all have a magical treasure for ourselves!” He reasons, gesturing down to the demons carrying whatever glowing artefacts Monkey is so keen on retrieving.

“We don’t need any treasures.” You shake your head.

“Each with fantastical abilities?!” Wukong repeats the mountain god's words. “Think how much easier this journey would be if we had tools to help us against any adversaries we met on the way?”

You groan a bit in annoyance at his persistence. He isn’t entirely wrong, but with your friend’s lives on the line, you can’t waste any time. “Wukong, it will only distract us from saving the others!”

“If these brothers sent their lackeys to finish us off, it likely means they want all of us dealt with so they can enjoy their meal peacefully.” He reasons. “That means as long as we avoid getting caught, nothing will happen to Master or my brothers!”

You give him a pointed look at that, resting your hands on your hips. His reasoning, however likely it may be, is still questionable. He may be right, but what if he isn’t?

Seeing your glare, Sun Wukong sighs. “Please, Dove? Just these two treasures at least, they’re on their way already.” He takes your hands in his, his eyes practically pleading.

“I swear to you if we do this, I will never call you Squab again. I can call you by another equally embarrassing name, instead!” He grins, and you feel your stomach drop when his gaze starts to trail off in thought. “Dovey? Bird-Brain? Ooh, how about Love-Dove? It rhymes.”

His rambling is enough for you to step away, making him let go of your hands so you can hide your warming face. “Dove is fine, Monkey.” You turn away for a moment, feeling your embarrassment show on your cheeks. It is only made worse by the sound of his chuckling reaching your ears, the sound of his amusement clear.

Despite his teasing, you consider his words. If those two demons are on their way from whatever home these brothers are in, you will cross paths with them anyway. Maybe you could even use these so-called treasures to defeat them and save the others. Not to mention, Wukong must be itching to have some form of revenge for being trapped under those mountains.

“…Alright, but we should make this quick.” You sigh, turning back around to see the monkey demon immediately brighten at your agreement. Before he can run off to begin whatever scheme he has to steal from the demons, you go back to address the mountain gods. “Thank you for all your help. Please, have safe travels back to your homes.” The first deity smiles, but is interrupted by Wukong before she can speak. “Wait! Before you go, I have one more favour to ask of you.” The three look between one another, uncertainty crossing each of their faces.

“Y-Yes?”

~~~~

The two demons holding the treasures grow closer to your hiding spot just off the side of the path, concealed by the flora of the forest. Wukong had asked you to wait there for him while he took care of something. Part of you feels somewhat anxious to find out what that ‘something’ is, though the mischievous grin on his face when he left made one thing clear: he’s going to have fun with it.

It would be a lie to say you aren’t curious, maybe even a little excited to see where this might go. Luckily, your wait is put to an end when the Monkey King rejoins you, jumping down from a tree to spy on the demons with you.

“Well?” You look over at him from the corner of your eye while your simian friend hands you an empty gourd.

His smile is wide, the twinkle in his eye giving you an idea of how excited he really is for this. “I present to you, a treasure all our own.”

You look down to inspect the object, not finding anything too special about the gourd. What does he plan to do with it? “Do you plan to trade their actual enchanted items with… this?”

“You catch on quick.” He winks, peeking out to check just how close the demons are getting.

Holding up the gourd, you frown. “You think they will trade whatever they have for some gourd?”

“For a gourd that can suck up all of heaven? Of course!” He looks back at you, his claim making you scoff in disbelief.

All of heaven? “How do you plan on pulling that off?” You ask, peeking inside the empty container while Sun Wukong changes his appearance.

He shifts into an elderly man, tucking away his tail and giving you a pat on the shoulder. “Just help me upsell this ruse by holding it, okay? Your… whatever you want to call it should make them think it’s magical. Oh, and take this.”

The disguised monkey demon tosses you a walking stick, which you easily catch. “For what?”

“You need it to walk these long treks, old man.” He snickers, and your brows furrow for a moment before noticing the wrinkles on your hand holding the stick. Did he– You look at your aged arms, reach up to feel the lines on your face, and catch the impish look on Monkey’s face.

Of course, both of you are old men for this hustle. Rolling your eyes, you join your partner in crime as he leads you to the path. “Oh– and don’t panic when the sky goes dark.”

What?

You have no time to question him before the two demons spot you on the path. “You, there!”

Wukong nudges your arm as the two of you turn to face the approaching demons. “Show time.” He mumbles under his breath before addressing the newcomers. “Hello, there! Fine day we are having, aren’t we?”

The two demons glare down at Sun Wukong’s hunched posture, seemingly in no mood to be as friendly as he presents himself to be. Each holds a different item; a vase and another gourd. “Who are you two? There are no human settlements anywhere near this area.”

“Oh, allow me to introduce myself.” Wukong smiles. “I am Chan, and this is my brother Ruon-Jian. We are daoists returning home after a long day, I suppose we just found ourselves turned around at some point.”

“Is that so?” The demon holding the vase frowns. He narrows his gaze at you, looking down at the gourd in your hands. It seems that Wukong was right, he must assume the aura of your gift is coming from the faux treasure. “Tell me, what is it you are carrying?” He asks, the second demon looking over with curiosity written over his expression.

You hold the gourd out, inspecting it yourself with a hum before looking at the two demons. “If you tell me what you two are holding onto, I will do the same for you.” You smile innocently, the two demons looking to one another before giving an unworried shrug.

The one holding the gourd speaks first. “These two items belong to our masters, the Gold and Silver-Horned demons. This vase and gourd work in the same manner.” He gestures to the treasure his demon ally carries before his own as he explains. “The one holding the item must call out their enemy’s name. If they answer your call, they will be sucked into the vase or gourd where they will then dissolve almost as quickly as they went in.”

‘Chan’ gawks a bit, letting out a roar of laughter. “Incredible! Although, I suppose your enemy must be foolish enough to answer you for it to work. That is not as nearly as special as our gourd.”

“Really?” The demon holding the vase huffs.

“Indeed.” You nod, stepping forward with your walking stick and holding up the gourd. “Our treasure is so powerful, it can suck up all of heaven.”

The two demons go silent at your claim, looking between the two of you, then the gourd, and then back to the two of you. After a moment, the demon with the gourd laughs. “You must be joking! Do you expect us to believe something as nonsensical as that?”

“You do not believe us?” ‘Chan’ scoffs, looking to you. “Ruon-Jian, they don’t believe us.”

“They don’t, huh?” You huff, shaking your head with mock-disappointment. “Let them live with their disbelief. They can have fun with their adorable little trinkets while we watch the Jade Emperor curse us out from his tiny prison.” Wukong snickers at your words.

“His angry little screams always get a good chuckle out of me.” He nods, the two demons looking between the two of you with concern now, maybe a little put off.

The one with the gourd frowns. “Why should we believe you?”

‘Chan’ perks up at that, stepping closer to you with a faux-annoyed huff. “What, do you want proof?” He asks, opening up the gourd in your hands. At his words, the sky starts to darken, a curtain of shadows rapidly expanding from one horizon to the other. You look up in shock as all traces of light from above vanish, leaving only darkness in its place. He actually did it?!

The two demons shout out in a panic before a small yet thundering voice echoes from the gourd in your hand. “What? What is the meaning of this?!” You hear Wukong snicker from next to you, and you do your best to hold in your own laughter. Is this his impression of the Jade Emperor?! “Do not tell me, are we in the gourd of those infuriating brothers?! Chan! Ruon-Jian!”

You can’t help but cackle at the shouting, and soon the sky returns to its natural state with the darkness lifting from above. Just to add to the effect, you give the gourd a good few taps on its side, as if to make sure everything got out before closing it. You aren’t entirely sure what Wukong did, but it definitely worked.

“Do you want any more proof than that? Maybe we could do it again, and give you a peek inside.” You tease, shaking the container with a smirk when you see how they are practically shaking.

Their response is almost immediate. “No, please! Do not do that again!”

“Do you find this amusing?!” The other one stares at the two of you, slack-jawed as you both try your best to conceal your giggling. “Who would entrust such a powerful artefact with the likes of you??”

Wukong rolls his eyes at their whining. “If the two of you have such an issue with the two of us keeping this gourd, would you be interested in keeping it?”

“You would hand it over to us?” The one with the vase gives you a weary look. He flinches as you carelessly wave the gourd around while answering. “In all honesty, this same-old trick is beginning to bore my brother and I.” You sigh before turning to your so-called sibling. “Say, watching our enemies dissolve would be rather fun. Don’t you think so, Chan?”

“I do, Ruon-Jian.” He nods, and the two of you look expectantly to the demons.

The one with the gourd is quick to respond. “If it means you don’t do that again, take them!” He shouts, handing you his treasure, quickly followed by his companion who hands ‘Chan’ the vase.

You hand the demon your gourd, the worry quickly settling on his face once it's in his hands. It only lasts for a few seconds before he frowns. “Wait a minute…” He looks between you and the gourd, confusion digging deeper into his features as he realises whatever aura he thought was coming from the item was really your own.

“It has been a pleasure doing business with you, really, it has…” You hum, tossing your walking stick to the side. Wukong grins as he hands the vase over for you to hold and undoes the magic of your disguises.

“It’s the monkey and the girl!”

Wukong wraps an arm around your waist, grabbing his staff from his ear with his other hand. “…But we should be on our way now!” You share your friend’s smile before he launches the two of you into the sky with his staff.

You’re unable to stop the laughter that bubbles out from your chest when you see the dumbfounded looks on the demon’s faces. Though, it’s difficult to hear your own voice over Wukong’s cackling. The two of you fly past the clouds, landing on the sage’s own somersault cloud and falling back in amusement over your con.

You land on your side holding onto the treasures tight, your friend on his back while breathing in deep in an attempt to calm himself down. A few more giggles escape your own lips before you can pull yourself together enough to sit up.

Wukong follows your lead and sits up, wiping a tear from his eye. “Oh, that was amazing! That improvisation about the Jade Emperor…” He laughs, shaking his head.

You shift to face him better, eyes wide with puzzlement. “Was that you impersonating him in the gourd?!”

“Slipped a duplicate into it after it got dark, I couldn’t let that idea of yours go to waste.” He winks, the pride on his face over the ploy nearly enough to send you into another fit of giggles.

Your hand reaches up to cradle your temple, still overwhelmed by how Wukong’s trick left you almost as perplexed as the demons you left in the dust. “I can’t believe it! How did you do that– with the sky going dark?”

As you ask, a few stray black feathers flutter down from above, whatever animal it came from nowhere in sight. “I had those mountain gods call in a favour for me.” He explains, catching a feather and tucking it behind your ear with a smile. “Prince Nezha was happy to help with the ruse.”

You return the smile. Whether or not you want to admit it to yourself, that was actually pretty fun. It’s easy to see why Sun Wukong finds so much enjoyment in pulling stunts like this. The bafflement on those demon underling’s faces were absolutely priceless!

“Are the vase and gourd alright?” Your friend asks, taking the gourd to inspect it while you do the same to the vase.

Finding no cracks, breaks, or other imperfections, you nod. “Just fine… hey.” You watch through a break in the clouds, the demons you left on the path racing westward. It seems as though following through with the Monkey King’s impulse for valuables paid off after all.

Wukong follows your line of sight while you think aloud. “They must be returning to their home. If we follow them, we can find the others.”

“And maybe the rest of their sacred treasures.”

“…”

“What?”

All you find yourself able to do is roll your eyes in playful annoyance.

[rottenblur]

Study break|J.MILLER| part four

Summary: After that intense brunch date with the Millers, Joel had been ignoring you. What better way to get your mind off him than to get drunk and make out with a stranger. Would you do it again if you knew you were gonna get caught?

Warnings: Alcohol, implied thigh riding, making out with a stranger, getting caught hehehe, jealous! Joel, thigh touching by said stranger, weed, truck sex, reader fails to give joel road head, over the clothes touching (reader to joel) crossfaded reader. Smut MOST SMUT IVE WROTE FOR THIS SERIES, joel fighting some guy for you, angry!joel unprotected sex (use a condom plz) violence for like two seconds

“You’re a lethal fuck baby.”

Three long, fucking cruel days of Joel ignoring you, he set you in place and just expected you to be okay with being high and dry.

You responded to his text, he read it and didn’t respond. He makes breakfast every morning, not even glancing at you once.

A fucking asshole. It was infuriating, you keep messaging him hoping he will respond but, nope he leaves you on delivered, as if you aren’t living in the same house.

You pass him in the hallways late at night when you can’t sleep, yet he never responds more than a “hm” to your desperate “hey”.

On a late Saturday night, you and Sarah are laying around, scrolling through your phones till she gets a notification.

“Hey..you wanna go to a party?”

You look over to her, turning off your phone.

Honestly, anything to forget Joel was a good idea in your books. Didn’t matter at what cost, or where… with who.

“Yeah..i guess” You replied.

Her face lights up and she almost mauls you, pulling you into the tightest hug you’ve ever felt.

“REALLY??? My baby is growing up so fast, she kisses your forehead.

“I dont have any party clothes tho, Wore my only dress yesterday.” You pull her off of you to look at her.

She looks at you, gets up and walks over to her closet.

“Are you fucking kidding me, I got everything you could ever want in here.”

You sigh, walk over and start looking through her dresses. None in sight that are even close to knee length.

I mean what’s better to get over a guy by getting drunk in a slutty outfit, and fucking a stranger?

You and Sarah both decide on a outfit, yours a purple mini dress with rhinestone straps that glimmer in the light.

Sarah’s a flowy floral, white dress, honestly she would look like a angel if it wasn’t so short.

“Jeez Sarah I look more like a slut than you do, that’s new.” You say as you both admire each other in a body length mirror.

You spend the next fifteen minutes listening to music and doing your makeup.

When you both look like you should be working a street corner, officially you’re ready to go to a shitty frat party.

You and Sarah grab your phones and head down stairs. Joel and tommy are leaning on the kitchen island looking over some blue prints with a beer in hand.

“We are going to a party so don’t wait up.” She smiles and gives them a twirl showing off her outfit, they both smile then both of their gazes fall on you.

They are staring at you like you’re their prey. Fucking devouring you with their eyes.

Joel’s eyes fall on the hem of your dress, falling just above mid thigh, he furrows his brows and adverts his gaze.

“Yeah alright, text me if you need a ride.” He practically mumbles then tommy pipes in.

“Shit Sarah you’ve converted her.” He laughs and sips his beer.

“Oh shut up, she’s the one that wanted to go.” Sarah says while shoving on a pair of heels.

You look at Joel to see his reaction, it for sure wasn’t a happy one. “Thanks for the ride offer, Mr. Miller.” You wanted it to hurt. When you bend over to pick up your shoes, you made god damn sure he saw your dress ride up revealing the black lace of your panties.

You can hear a grunt as you slip on your shoes and stand back up, rolling your eyes when his catch yours.

You shut the door behind you and you’re off.

Arriving at the party, groups of people are gathered on the lawn. The music is so loud you can hear it from the sidewalk, what the fuck. What the fuck were you doing at a college frat party with Sarah, willingly.

You brush away your shame and step inside. Guys with bass pro hats, covering a horrible mullet. Dressed head to toe in carhartt, the cherry on top is the timberland boots.

Every single god damn one of them looked the same, then one catches your eye.

A guy dressed head to toe in black, other than a green flannel, fucking perfect. He looked like he was only here for the free liquor, probably was best friends with one of these yee haw mother fuckers as a kid.

The only possible reason you could imagine why he would be here, a fucking frat.

You search the liquor table for something other than white claws or bud light, a bottle of jack daniel’s catching your eye, bingo. You grab the bottle screwing the cap open and taking a sip, you wipe your mouth.

A tap on your shoulder makes you turn around, it wasn’t Sarah, she was long gone talking to one of her boy toys.

It was a tall, mullet bass pro wearing mother fucker. Jesus you didn’t have time nor patience for them tonight.

“Hey girl, you can’t just take the whole-“

You flip him off and walk towards your target boy toy. If he was in a band, you’d gladly be his groupie.

Another swig of whiskey to calm your nerves and you’re strutting over to him. He’s perched on a large window sill nursing a cigarette, a bong laid carefully by his feet. Probably the only stoner in here.

You approach him and think of the easiest way to pick up a conversation, got it.

“Hey, can i bum one off ya’?” He looks away from the open window and smiles at you. “For sure, cutie.” He reaches into his pocket pulling out a pack of marlbaro golds and offers it to you.

You take one, putting it between your lips. He sits up, making room for you, you sit down next to him.

He leans in, lighting your cigarette with his. You inhale, pulling away and exhaling the smoke.

“You aren’t one of those frat girls are you?” You laugh at his comment, shaking your head and inhaling once again.

“Nah, my friend dragged me here.”

A lie, but he doesn’t know any better. Saying that you actually wanted to come to this stupid party would do you no good to a guy like this.

He puts the cigarette between his lips, and shifts to pick up the bong.

“You want some? It’s some quad shit really good.” He pulls out a bag from his flannel, packing about a half ounce of weed in it. I mean, fuck it.

You nod your head, picking up the whiskey bottle chugging a good amount and passing it to him, he declines. “What’s your name anyways?”

He takes a nug out, grinds it onto his hand, pitches it and puts it into the bowl.

“Tyler.” He lights the bowl filled to the top with purple and green weed, inhaling till the weed goes through, he pulls out the bowl and inhales the smoke.

A slight cough into his sleeve and he’s passing the bong to you. You take a swig of liquid courage, not that you needed it at all.

The music is slurred, the only features you can make out on his face is his long black hair, his dark brown eyes and a eyebrow piercing. God imagine if his name mattered, if you would even remember it tomorrow.

You pinch the remaining bits of bud, putting it into the bowl. He looks to you, putting out his cigarette onto the hardwood floor. You’re sure the frat DEFINITELY loves this guy.

You take one last drag of your cigarette, passing it to him and taking his lighter.

“How’d you get invited to this anyways, you don’t look like a frat asshole.” You point to his outfit.

He lights the bowl, you inhale. “Yeah i sell some of these assholes shitty overpriced weed.” He laughs, you finish the bowl and set the bong down, he takes a slow drag off your cigarette.

What he said hits you, so does the weed. You bust out laughing, so hard you start coughing.

“I only give pretty girls like you the good shit.”

Oh shit. Mixing the amount of whiskey you had plus the weed was a bad idea. At least you weren’t thinking about Joel.

“Fuck, you’re too sweet, too hot.” You slur.

He passes back the cigarette to you, everything was so calm. You almost forgot where you were for a second, you were fucked up.

You take a drag off the cigarette, throwing it onto the floor, stomping it with your shoe. He smiles at you, then leans in, dodging your lips and going straight for your neck.

He kisses up and down your neck, sucking every couple kisses, he dips down where your dress falls. Right on your tits. He shoves a hand in your dress dancing around your inner thigh, you let out a whimper when his thumb grazes your clit.

Fuck was it the alcohol or was it hot in here.

Then you remember exactly why you don’t drink, your stomach turns upside down. You pull his head away from your neck, smiling to him.

“Hey, I’ll be right back.”

He smiles and nods, picking up the bong as you walk away, stumble away would be more realistic.

You take the bottle with you, running up the crowded stairs and search for a bathroom.

A open door, no one occupying it with a quickie either, bingo. You walk in, pulling out your phone searching through your contacts with blurry vision.

You take a sip, sit yourself on the floor as the phone beeps. To your surprise, they answered.

“Hey, what’s up.” You can hear the mumbles of tv in the background.

You look at your phone, fuck. You swore you called Tommy, not fucking Joel.

It was late too, he was staying up to pick you and Sarah up, such a sweetheart wait no you’re mad at him, what a fucking dick.

“Fuck i meant to call Tommy mm b-“ He cuts you off before you can finish your slurred words.

“Nah, he’s asleep I’m all ya get. Sarah ready too? You sound pretty fuckin’ ready.” He states, did you ready sound that bad?

You sigh and take a gulp of liquor, setting the bottle on the floor and answer. “Yeahhh I dont know where she is, pretty sure she’s with a guy-“ You pick the bottle back up, taking another sip. “Call her yourself bro” You say giggling at your words.

You can almost picture his face when you said that, fingers pinched on his nose bridge, furrowed brows.

“Bro? Who the fuck are you talkin’ to darlin’? I’m leavin now.”

He hangs up the phone, you shove your phone back into your bag, take one last sip of your bottle and head back downstairs.

You’re on top of whatever his name was, you’d already forgotten. Too drunk to have shame, too high to care who it was.

You can feel how hard he was, kissing him was basically just teeth and spit.

You were desperate for each other. If you got up now there would be a wet spot on his black jeans, from you or him, No one knows. Your hips uncontrollably rub against him, your dress riding up for the whole fucking party to see.

You hear your name be called faintly through the pounding of loud music and talking. Then a tap on your shoulder from a rough large hand, oh fuck.

You turn your head to look, your face met with a broad chest in a black t shirt, you look up. Fuck.

“C’mon time to go.” He’s fucking fuming.

Tyler pulls your face back for another kiss, you’re lifted off him like you don’t weigh shit.

“The fuck is this? Your dad or something?” He remarks.

Joel laughs. “What are you 19 or something? Fucking kid.” He mumbles, You stumble aside. Joel steps towards him, tyler stands up, boner and pre cum stain for everyone to see.

“Who the fuck are you old man?” He spits out and goes to grab your arm.

Joel hits him, he falls back with a bloody nose. Probably broken. He was a skinny alternative boy and Joel was you know Joel.

“Wanna try to touch her again?” He picks him up by his collar, you’re frozen in spot. It was kinda hot, him fighting some guy for you.

“Jesus man are you her fucking boyfriend or something, she came onto me. Guess your old ass can’t hit it right.” He should have just left it alone.

“Hey, shut the fu-“ Joel looks at you and before you could finish your sentence, Tyler was on the floor with a fucked up face. You could hear the crunch of his bones against Joel’s strong fist.

Joel grabs your arm and starts pulling you out of the party. “What the fuck was that, Joel seriously?”

He looks at you, adjusts your dress and pulls you towards his truck. “I fuckin’ told you darlin’.”

He picks you up, putting you into the passenger seat, buckling your seat belt and slamming the door. “Told me-“ He walks over to the driver side and hops in.

“What the fuck did you tell me? That bullshit with Tommy?”

He doesn’t say anything, just starts driving. You huff to yourself and take off your shoes.

You get to a stop light, he looks at you. “Yeah, wasn’t bullshit. So much for being mine right?” His grip on the steering wheel tightened, was it Tyler or were you soaking fucking wet over how angry Joel was right now.

“You were fucking ignoring me, you think I don’t want you? Even now.”

He looks at you and the light turns green.

“I was ignoring you ‘cause—“ He looks away, his knuckles white against the black leather of the wheel. “-I can’t fucking control myself no more.” He sighs.

He looks back to you, looking you up and down.

“God did you have to dress so slutty?” His hips rut up, you had him exactly where you wanted him, or at least where drunk you wanted him.

You blush, reaching your hand to the growing bluge in his grey sweatpants, showing you everything you could ever want to see.

His breath hitches. “Fuck, you’re drunk.”

You smile at him and start rubbing him through his pants, he looks down.

A dark wet spot grows on his pants, god he was perfect.

“Darlin’ I can’t drive if you keep doing that.”

You nod and pull his dick out of his pants, his tip was angry and leaking. You thumb his tip, dragging the pre cum down his length pulling a groan out of him.

He looks at you, you unbuckle your seatbelt and adjust in your seat, leaning over to him. You spit on his tip and force him down your throat.

“Fuck- Jesus.” He grunts out.

You bob your head up and down trying to take him all in your mouth, working the rest with your hands, you can feel the car speeding up.

When you feel him about to cum down your throat, he pulls you off and parks the car. You look around, you’re at the bottom of his street, thank god it was too late for anyone to be awake.

“Look we can’t—“ he cuts himself off, looking at your dripping mouth, your dripping cunt peeking out from your dress.

“-Fuck it, come ‘ere.” He adjusts his seat, making room for you, leaning back his seat slightly. Your first time with Joel fucking Miller was gonna be in his truck.

You climb onto his lap, straddling him. He looks at you, reaches down and rubs your clit through your panties.

“Look at ya, all fuckin’ soaked for me” He pushes your panties to the side, pulling you up and notching his tip to your slit. Your breath hitches and you look at him with furrowed brows.

He leans in connecting your lips with his, then pushes his tip into you with a grunt. He disconnects your lips with a sigh. “You’re such a tease.” He grabs your face, making you look at him as he thrusts all the way in you, splitting you apart.

“Fuck—you’re too big.” You shut your eyes, working through the stretch of him.

“Look at me baby.” He fucks into you without remorse, a steady pace with no mercy.

You can feel him in your stomach, he pulls you back into a kiss. You’re moaning into his mouth and his balls are slapping onto your ass such a filthy sound.

He reaches his hand down, oh fuck. Was it the alcohol or could you come right fucking now.

“Oh fuck Joel—mm like that” You mumble into his mouth, he’s fucking you dumb. His fingers find the perfect pace bringing you to your orgasm.

He pulls away from the kiss looking at you with those beautiful, soft brown eyes, and scrunched up face. “Shit darlin’, wanna feel you cum all ‘round this dick.” He groans as his hips pick up a unbearable pace, his tip kissing your cervix with each stroke.

You whimper, and with a nod from him you’re coming fully undone around him, fucking you through your high.

“Fuck you’re squeezing my dick so fuckin’ good.” When you’re coming down from your high, pulsing all around him, his face relaxes and he pulls out. Pulling up your dress, jerking himself till thick white ropes pour all over your lower stomach and clit.

“Jesus.” Is all you can breathe out.

He kisses your forehead, and looks you up and down, blush covered cheeks, sticky white ropes now ruining Sarah’s dress and your panties.

He was out of breath, he looked more fucked than you. You ruffle his hair and climb off him.

“So what are we gonna do now?” You say looking over at him as he pulls up his pants, He looks at you in bliss.

“We do it again. You’re a lethal fuck baby.”

Taglist: @paleidiot @slvbl

(Comment to be added to taglist)

Masterlist: here

Part three: here

Part five: coming soon..

AN: probably wouldn’t have finished this if SOMEONE ( @slvbl ) DIDNT BULLY ME INTO IT. I hope y’all enjoy this. The smut is kinda short but ANGY joel MAKES ME HAPPY. I named tyler after a guy that ghosted me on tinder LITTLE DID HE KNOW HE WOULD BE GETTING BEAT UP IN MY FIC MWAHAHAHAH lmk how yall feel bout this part yall need to get into my inbox i need inspiration 😘

[eloquentlytired]

can you make a Thor fanfic with reader being also one of the avengers? It can be smut, fluff, anything, I just want to see some Thor fanfics hehehe 😭

thor x avenger!gn! reader

— a stranger’s comfort

author’s note: hi my darling! I've never written for thor before but I was very glad to try. I hope I didn't disappoint you with it. I went for something gentle & fluffy 🩷 enjoy !!! and I'm sending many kisses your way

★ this was longer than I expected ?!

tags: fluff — shy reader — thor is unusually grumpy but not for long — strangers to friends — getting to know each other — I will probably make a part two for this — very gentle thor in the end — faint soft dom vibes if you blink hard enough

ৎৎৎ

you were the newest addition to the avengers’ team and also the shyest out of all. carrying out conversations wasn't particularly difficult, it was rather manageable with your intelligence, but you also wouldn't start any by yourself. you found yourself spending most of your time with natasha and bruce. the two of them had a strange peacefulness and gentleness that you adored; you weren't one to handle shaky and loud situations after all. that just wasn't your thing.

you were a good fighter and also an incredible hacker, your skills were always very useful and needed, but no matter how many times you heard that it was never enough. you wanted to constantly push yourself over your boundaries, to do more.

“you’re bleeding.” you'd been so immersed in punching that bag that you hadn't even heard thor entering the practice room and sitting behind you. you blinked nervously and swallowed. “I..I didn't realize.” Was the faint reply you offered before staring down at your wounded knuckles, confirming their state.

thor wasn't someone you'd met before so you hadn't had the chance to properly introduce yourself to him. back when you had asked nat about his whereabouts, she had mentioned something about home issues. you hadn't pried.

“come.” he suddenly said and the baritone voice snapped you out of your trance. you walked towards him slowly — hesitantly — feeling some tension rising. the others had told you that he was usually very funny and chatty. a jester at times if you will, but he also had his bad days. today was definitely a bad day for him.

you stood close to him but apparently not close enough for thor. he parted his legs, spread them until there's enough space for you to get in between them. thor stared at you and nodded for you to go on — so you did. you stood between his spread thighs and looked at him confused, wandering about his doings.

“left hand.” he said in a commanding tone and your body obeyed instantly. thor noticed that and smiled triumphantly. “good job.”

your tummy churned pleasantly at the praise but you said nothing. your shy expression must have said a lot anyways especially when you're avoiding his eyes like the plague. until his large hands were cleaning and bandaging your wounds, and you hissed while looking at him, tears prickling at your eyes because of the sting.

thor shushed you while wrapping some bandages around your knuckles. “shh, there we go. not so bad is it?”

for a moment you wanted to ask why he's doing this but he didn’t let you.

“right hand.” the same process occurred and your eyes remained on your intertwined hands as thor took care of you. “hands down.” he commanded again and you obeyed again. it's weird; you didn't even know him and yet ...

you drew in a sharp breath when he rose from his chair just to tower over you. you swallowed nervously. thor noticed and took another step forward. your chests brushed. “new blood?” he asked although he already knew. you're sure he knew.

“I...yes. I officially settled in a few days ago.” you replied and he hummed. calloused fingers found your chin and lifted it. the act alone made you want to run away but once his eyes were on you, piercing your very soul, you couldn't move. “nervous thing you are. you sure you gonna make it?” you wanted to snap at him, to defend yourself but thor’s tone wasn't one of mockery. his eyes shimmered with a strange worry and his face was serious.

“I will. I have to.” you whispered and thor almost missed it.

silence lingered for a while before he released your chin and allowed you to finally breathe. the interaction was making you feel strange. “good.” thor replied but that wasn't all. “nat told me to keep an eye on you. she said you tend to overdo it.” the words surprised you and you found yourself itching to get some answers out of him. “is she busy? she usually fetches me herself.” you said.

“Who knows.” thor replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

“you know.” thor chuckled upon seeing the pout on your face. at least you were amusing him somehow.

“perceptive. I like that.” he laughed before planting his large hand on your head, giving it a few pats, and then walked away. you stared at his retreating form — his large back, his neatly shaved head and those fists that remained clenched. so this is thor was what you'd probably say but you hadn't seen nearly enough of him.

the day went by and when night came, you were unable to sleep. your mind couldn't stop replaying the scenes of your strange meeting with thor. he was unusually dark in a way and moody before his attitude shifted towards the end of your conversation. it had intrigued you.

“ah. knuckles, what a coincidence.” you jumped at the familiar voice that momentarily paused your raid in the kitchen. you turned around slowly, your mouth stuffed awkwardly with two cookies. thor stared at you. you stared back.

“please don't tell bruce I'm stealing his girl scout cookies.” was the first thing that came out of your mouth upon swallowing.

thor barked out a laugh while leaning against one of the chairs. “your secret is safe with me.” he mused and you decided to test the waters by sitting next to him on the leather couch. you quietly ate bruce’s your cookies while thor pierced you with his gaze and you shifted a little in your seat, unable to ignore the stalk of his eyes. “do I have crumbs on my face?” your question was spoken so quietly, thor had struggled to hear it again. “no. I was checking your wounds.” thor replied and you felt your face growing warm — what were you thinking? of course he was just being nice. you stared at your knuckles — oh that's why he was calling you that — and noticed the blood seeping through the bandages. your gaze strayed away as you winced.

“hurts?” thor asked.

“it’s not the pain,it's the blood.” you replied, surprising him.

“you’re scared of it?” he questioned and you replied, “I am. but it's better now. at least I don't faint because of it anymore.” you chuckled while thor remained expressionless, still processing the information. his mouth stayed unmoving until he had found the right words to use. “is there a story behind your fears and how anxious you are?”

you smiled at him although it was slightly bitter. thor understood he'd hit a sore spot. “of course. everyone has stories about something,don't they? I'm one of many.”

thor nodded, feeling envious about how calm you looked. knowing himself he could never talk about his past or tender memories without messing up his words or controlling his expressions.

“I don't think I'll share it just yet. Unless you decide to stick around.” you whispered and he smiled softly for the first time that day. there was no darkness or roughness around him; he was just thor.

“why wouldn't I? you're family now.” his words surprised you and you looked at him with wide eyes; the gentleness you saw in thor was perhaps even deeper than nat’s and bruce’s combined. you hadn't registered the tears falling down your face until thor was wrapping his arms around your waist, dragging you close. he hugged you and you immediately melted, your head disappearing into his shoulder. you tried to whisper I'm sorry but he shushed you and brought a large hand upon your head. he began stroking your hair while his lips brushed against your temple, “you sound like you apologize a lot.” it was unfair how he'd figured you out so easily despite not knowing you well. you buried your face deeper into his shoulder and sighed. thor chuckled. “I’m not very good with words when I need to think of them.” you looked at him as if he was an alien — he kinda was wasn't he? — and thor chuckled again. then he proceeded to explain, “i think I work better spontaneously so..I might say the wrong thing now that I'm thinking about how to console you.” the words made you feel kind of protective over him; he was definitely older and wiser but he still looked like he needed the comfort as much as you did.

your hand reached for thor’s cheek and he willingly nuzzled against your palm, a soft expression washing over him. “this is enough, isn't it? just touching.” you told him and he hummed after a few moments, enjoying your fingers against his beard.

“yeah. it's enough.” was all he said before tightening his arm around you, pulling you on his lap. both of you sat like that; with you resting on thor’s lap while he leaned against the couch, using a hand to push a stray hair behind your ear, while your own hand caressed his cheek.

the idea of comforting and being comforted by a total stranger didn't exist anywhere in your mind, or your bucket list. but it had happened now and you wouldn't go back from it or choose to have anything different— especially when that large hand cradled the back of your head and pressed you close. especially when the brush of that beard against your face was oh so soft, oh so loving.

“you never told me your name.” he suddenly piped in and you laughed. he laughed as well. it was quite the comedy the two of you. you looked up at him, sniffling a little, and you offered your hand for him to take. thor took it and shook it gently as you introduced yourself, a pretty smile occupying your face beneath those tears.

“well it’s nice to meet you, knuckles. I'm thor.” you rolled your eyes at the silly introduction and that nickname; it'd probably stick around for a while because of him. “you’re very warm.” you told him while the weight of your eyelids weighed upon you like tiny blankets. thor simply hummed and offered a single squeeze around your nape.

“just go to sleep, knuckles.” and you did.

[coffeedepressionsoup]

Somebody Does Love | MYG - He Falls First

Pairing - Yoongi x F!reader

Summary - "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Two people are in love but that is not enough because sometimes loving requires courage.

This is the one where Yoongi is a man with a crush, and Sammy is a diligent shipper. Part 4 of Somebody Does Love.

Series Masterlist

Genre - fluff, strangers to lovers, eventual smut and angst

Word count - 3.9k+

Warnings - lil swearing, drinking is injurious to health, smoking too (dk if that bit is in there), flustered Yoongi Pro Max

Ratings - 13+

Taglist: @majiiisstuff @starlighttaek8 @yoongrace @proudnoona

A/N - It would seem the word limit is me overcompensating for the long break. Hehehe. I have received so many positive and encouraging comments throughout this time, some anonymous, I wanted to write a slightly longer note to thank you all. On some of the worst days, your enthusiasm puts a smile on my face. Thank you, and take my warmest love.

Partially proofread. Basically word vomit. Written in three frenzied, sleepless nights. Please be kind. Like, reblog and comment to let me know what you think of this chapter. Also, feel free to DM me to be added to the taglist. That's all. Enjoy!

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Sammy tries his best to keep a straight face as he looks at his friend of more than 8 years explaining why he decided to drop by his house - the third time in two weeks, which is more than the number of visits in the last two years, combined.

Min Yoongi, the friend in question here, allegedly found inspiration at a park earlier that day and had the beats for a new song in mind, for which Sammy was being requested to work on the lyrics. Could it have waited until the next day? Apparently not.

The urgency (of the creative variety, of course) is why the award-winning music producer was hunched over at Sammy’s living room sofa, having hijacked the latter’s laptop.

However, the explanation did not seem satisfactory to Sammy. I mean, obviously, there are some good beats that Yoongi presented in the short while that he was there. But that is not unbelievable. He has previously seen him finish a song in less than an hour.

Even the inspiration is not doubtful. Not in the least. Of course, he can believe in finding inspiration for a song at random places, at random times. Sammy himself had made a song about the annoyance shaving can be after a particularly annoying early morning schedule.

The urgency, however, is the fishy bit. Not that it’s too late in the night. It’s 10:27, Sammy checks his phone. It is not too late at all for his friends to get together for drinks or movies. But turning up at his house though? And Yoongi?

Sammy has had to often take in a drunk and dejected Jaehyeong at around midnight when he was going through a difficult breakup and would end up in his neighbourhood because the ex used to live close by. Dojoon and Yijeong would often come in unannounced for impromptu jamming sessions. Hajoon would drop by to cuddle Woolfie. You get the drift.

But the most Yoongi had done, in all their years of knowing each other, was call and ask if he was down for a drink and/or meal. If it was regarding work, a .wav file over chat. Never has he barged into his house, unannounced. What are the odds of that happening after 8 years of knowing one another? Thrice within 14 days? Sammy wondered.

The first time did indeed take him by surprise.

Sammy was getting out of the gym in his building and heading towards the elevators to climb back to his apartment. He had promised Y/N some of his signature japchae for dinner. She had been nagging him for it ever since she arrived in Seoul. The previous night at Hajoon’s place, he pinky swore that he would make it for dinner the next day. He was ordering all the ingredients he’d need to fulfill that promise. It was as he was going to add spinach to the cart that Yoongi’s caller ID floated on his screen.

“Hel-”

“Are you at home now?”

“Uh-yeah, wh-”

“Okay”

And the line disconnected.

Sammy had intended to call Yoongi back. But by the time, he got back to the apartment and freshened up, he heard the buzz of his doorbell. Expecting his grocery deliveries, Sammy was disappointed to find someone else at the door.

He was more surprised when he realised that someone was Yoongi, with the straps of a tan corduroy tote bag clutched in one of his hands. The two men stared at each other for a few quiet moments - one in confusion, the other in fluster. Meanwhile, Sammy’s groceries arrived and since they were at the door already, the two friends quickly emptied the items and returned the bag to the delivery person.

Once the door was shut, Yoongi held up the bag, saying, “I had some leftover food.”

Sammy nodded. Yoongi had made him food at times when he was sick, and even when he had locked himself in his apartment save the daily hour-long walks with Woolfie to finish his first solo album. This was not a new thing. And even then, the rapper did not announce “I made this for you.” It was always variations of “I made too much,” “I don’t want this anymore,” or sometimes just quietly shoved into the arms, without any explanations.

But what he wondered was why now. He was neither sick nor stressed. They did not even have an ongoing argument that needed to be smoothed over with pensive bribery or a crony bet that required settlement.

“What’d you make?” he asked, carrying the meat that arrived in the delivery alongside a few other boxes to the kitchen.

Yoongi followed with the remaining items in his arms and placed them all, including the bag he was carrying, on the granite-top kitchen island. “Just threw some stuff together,” he lied comfortably. Nobody had to know that he went shopping that noon and handpicked the ribeye fillets among other things.

Sammy smirked at the very vague and characteristically predictable response. “Want some beer?” He saw Yoongi’s head nodding in his peripheral vision as he dived into the fridge to fish out a couple of beer cans.

Stood across from each other, at the kitchen island, the two opened and tipped their cans in silence and took a swig each when Yoongi’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He checked the caller ID and gestured to Sammy that he would take the call, who nodded back in acknowledgement.

Yoongi walked out of the kitchen with the beer in one hand and his phone held up to the ear in the other.

Sammy was making a mental checklist of the things he needed to soak, wash, peel etc. and in what order as he glanced over the ingredients laid out on the countertop in front of him. When his eyes fell on the tan corduroy bag placed there, curiosity caught up. He dragged it towards himself and brought out the casserole inside it. It was heavier than he anticipated.

He opened the lid to reveal a piping-hot pot full of japchae. His confused frown gave way to a knowing smirk within a couple of seconds when he joined the dots. He closed the lid and continued sipping on his beer as he checked the time on his phone and walked out into his living room.

Y/N will be home soon and things will get interesting, he thought.

Just as he plopped himself on the sofa and turned the TV on, Yoongi, who was perched up against one of the bookshelves, finished his call, shoved his phone in his back pocket and joined his friend.

By now, Woolfie had woken up from his evening nap and strolled out. He wagged his tail and shoved his snoot up Yoongi’s crotch, as he usually does, earning coos and cuddles from the man.

Sammy patted his dog on the back a couple of times from beside his friend, resulting in Woolfie withdrawing from the aforementioned crotch and sitting down in front of the couch, like the goodest (we know it is a valid superlative adjective for all dogs) ever boy that he was. Yoongi chuckled and continued showering pets on the husky till he heard his friend’s almost prosaic statement, made apparently to no one in particular.

“Y/N loves japchae.”

Yoongi tried his best to not react to the statement. He took another swig of his beer attempting to appear nonchalant. But chalant, he was. Of course, he knew Y/N loved japchae. She lamented missing the dish and reprimanded Sammy for a good part of two minutes the previous night for not making it. When Hobi suggested ordering the dish, she rejected the idea claiming she wanted the kind with slightly burnt garlic, the one that Sammy made once by mistake and has since and will forever have to make it that way for this adorable little friend of his.

However, Sammy would never describe Y/N as adorable or little. He would choose something along the lines of tenacious and talkative. Adorable and little were Yoongi’s interjections as he observed the japchae exchange unfold. Adorable because everything about Y/N seemed to warm his heart at that time - her voice, her hand gestures, her face, her anecdotes. And little because he often found himself wishing, throughout the night, to hold her close and safe, near him, like a little flower.

That morning, when they were leaving Hajoon's place, Yoongi remembered the smile she had as she waved her goodbyes. At one point, her eyes landed on him, and she said a simple, “See you around.”

He managed to smile back and nod in acknowledgement. He wished to no one in particular that the around would come sooner than later. Then his eyes fell on the jacket that was draped across her forearm. His jacket. His smile faded and anxiety crept back in.

Yoongi had attempted about twice through the night to will himself into owning up as the owner of the jacket. But he failed. Sometimes he drowned in her eyes, or the curve of her smile. At other times, his will just wasn't strong enough to face the mountain of curses and rebuttals he'd heard about his perceived self, or rather of his absence.

As he saw her drive away with Sammy, he decided what to do. He will cook one of her favourite dishes, directly own up for his fuckery and apologise, no conditions applied. Simple enough plan, one-third of which he seemed to have completed successfully. With his friend's single comment though, all his resolve started to fall apart.

This was too forward, wasn't it? Is he encroaching? In a space where he doesn't belong? Is he making this too easy? Too hard to deal with?

Sammy saw in glee as the top of his friend’s ears and cheeks turned a bashful red. He stopped at a channel playing “Tease Me” by Seo Inguk and paused.

Yoongi gulped down the last bit of beer in that can, crushed the sides a little and cleared his throat. “Everyone loves japchae. It is easy to make.”

“Is that why you made it?”

Yoongi turned to look at his friend and looked into his eyes. Fucker had caught on, had he not? He cursed internally but held his gaze, unfaltering.

“Yes.”

Sammy let out a laugh and did not implore more. If he teased some more, there may be actual smoke coming out of the poor man’s ears.

Before Yoongi could act annoyed about being inflicted with stupid, pointless questions, their attention was drawn by Woolfie’s gentle growling. The dog jumped up on all fours and pattered towards the front door of the duplex, wagging his tail.

Familiar enough action for Sammy, he continued surfing channels without reacting but glanced over at Yoongi ever so often.

Confused by the dog’s sudden departure, his face had a frown in the beginning which smoothened out and gave way to his mouth hanging open ever so slightly when he heard a familiar cooing voice.

Yoongi was not surprised by Y/N’s arrival, he was of course expecting it. He was however not ready for his heart to beat that fast at only her voice, even when sober. For some inexplicable reason, he stood up from the sofa.

He heard Y/N’s giggles from the corridor and when he finally saw her, he regretted standing up because he could feel his heels faltering a bit.

Y/N was half carrying, half dragging the 50-something pound Siberian Husky and muttering phrases like “Yes I missed you too bubba.” “Aww my little baby.” “I know I know.” “I love you so much.” into his fur, which was peppered by pleased grumbles and breathy sighs from the dog. He was quite happy having resigned his weight over to one of his favourite humans, not minding one bit for having his hind feet dragged leisurely across the carpeted floor because she was gone for a tad bit longer than he would have preferred. Fines would have to be paid.

Sammy’s anticipation was killing him but the sight of his child with one of his best friends endeared him a lot more. Grinning at the duo, he clicked a couple of pictures and walked towards one of the shelves.

“Come on big boy, time for your walk,” he called out as he picked out one of Woolfie’s favourite leads. The boy, snapping out of his baby mode, whoofed and ran towards his dad in earnest, earning a giggle from all the adults in the room.

Y/N could place all but one of those sounds. One from her, unmistakable. One from Sammy, who had managed to hook the lead on. She turned to see the source of the third giggle, whose face had now frozen into a taut smile.

Sammy’s voice emerged before the other two people could say anything. “Yoongi, Y/N. Y/N, Yoongi. Y’all remember each other right? From a few hours ago?”

“Yes, of course, hi,” Y/N said.

“Hi,” Yoongi whispered back.

Sammy stopped near the turn of the corridor and said, “Yoongi bought us japchae. He made too much.”

And with that he walked out of the door, laughing once he was out of earshot.

What he left behind was a red Yoongi, warm to the touch. The last thing he heard was, “Oh thank you so much! Hope you are staying for dinner.”

Sammy does not yet know the details of what transpired in the 35 minutes that he was gone. He apologised to Woolfie for cutting their walk short but his curiosity would not allow him to not observe the progress of what could become a legendary love story further down the line. He would even volunteer to write the foreward if a book was ever written on the matter.

Was he building castles in the air? Yes. But was it unfounded? No. Even with the japchae out of the equation, he saw his 33-year-old friend fluster like a teenager with a crush. He also had to stomach about 1:40 minutes of “Oh I thought he was haughty at first but he’s quite a good listener. Helps that he is cute,” from when they started driving back from Hajoon’s place, till Y/N left for work that morning. He liked to believe that he was a realist, but what is life really without the dystopian fantasies of romance we build in our silly little heads?

He had come back to the pair of his friends in the kitchen - Y/N straining out some noodles and adding them to a pan of sauce and Yoongi chopping spring onions, with Ash perched upon his shoulder, observing his skills like a diligent invigilator.

The tail end of the conversation that Sammy managed to catch was - “That is probably a smoother blend, but the aftertaste of Glenfiddich sits better with me,” Y/N said, to which Yoongi replied, “I agree. But you have to try Bowmore once. I might have a bit of the 15-year-old left, I can bring it over next time.”

Which had offered a very flexible segwue to the second visit that Yoongi made to Sammy’s place. Sunday night. As Y/N and Sammy were watching the match highlights of an earlier Arsenal vs Liverpool game, the bell rang.

Sammy was less surprised this time when he buzzed Yoongi in. He held up an unopened bottle of Bowmore 15 Scotch Whiskey this time instead of a tote bag. He walked in to see Y/N scream at the TV with half a chicken wing pointed at it with some of it still in her mouth, muffling the expletives.

When she saw Yoongi, she smiled a wide smile to greet him. He smiled back but when he saw the packets of chicken and beer cans strewn around, felt immediately like he was intruding. Intruding into quality time between two people. All because he could not stop thinking about one of these two people at all, and had also not mustered enough courage to exchange numbers with. He admonished himself internally endlessly for everything in the next couple of seconds of silence where he thought of what he could say.

He settled on, “I-uh told you about this,” held the bottle up again, “Thought I would drop it by.” He went up and placed the bottle on the lounge table.

“Are you not staying?” the question was immediate. Innocent enough but filled with a slight tone of disappointment that tugged at his heart.

“Yeah, what the fuck dude. You gotta have at least a couple of drinks with us.” Sammy patted him across the back. That encouraged him.

“Yeah. It’s only going to be fun when you have someone else who also enjoys and understands scotch,” Y/N said, ignoring the hurt Sammy displayed at the slight jab, adding, “Stay for a bit if you have nothing else lined up.” That convinced him.

“I did not mean to interrupt anything,” he said half matter-of-factly, half apologetically.

“We are eating fried chicken and watching a week-old football match. Trust me, you’re adding life to the party,” Y/N said as she scooted over to allow Yoongi enough space to sit by the lounge table, facing the TV.

Yoongi blushed and could feel his ears heat up as he sat down beside her. Y/N did not notice it but Sammy did. “It is true though, Sammy does not really enjoy anything other than a beer.”

“Well, fuck me that I like for my tongue to not burn out of existence,” Sammy grumbled as he brought over three glasses and ice.

A little more than half the bottle was finished that night between Y/N and Yoongi, who bonded quite seamlessly over teasing Sammy about giving up after a single peg, scotch in general and discussions over media’s ever-evolving role in influencing a person’s life choices on a day-to-day basis.

Although Sammy would have offered the sofa to Yoongi for the next few hours anyway, he stepped back when Y/N urged Yoongi to not drive back. He also exaggerated how tired he was with a couple of over-the-top yawns, which would have been suspicious if he was amongst sober company. He therefore hurried back to his bedroom and shut the door, allowing his friends the privacy he thought they probably sought.

He was partly right. Yoongi and Y/N had both wished to have met one-on-one but neither had the balls to ask the other first, caught up within webs of self-doubt and anxious ominosity in their heads. Even with Sammy having retired to his room, as they sat alone, only with each other for company, they did not dare go where their mind sometimes wandered to.

There had been occasional hand and shoulder brushes throughout the night that they managed to glance over. With Sammy gone, though, they became hyper-aware of their proximity. Y/N turned to look at Yoongi and when he did the same, they were one head tip away from a kiss. Theoretically.

He tracked as her eyes moved from his own and fell to his lips and then back.

Y/N could feel warmth wash over all her body. She also felt his warm breath sync with hers. His face was flush and his lips luscious, inviting.

She had thought about these lips often in the past few days. Not intentionally, but she caught herself with her mind wandering quite often. Him - his demeanour, his voice and his attitude pulled her in. If she was reading things right, there was an interest she could read as well. If making the japchae was not a loud enough argument for that school of thought, the glances and the smiles surely were. Since Sunday, there have been a tonne of those and the eyes never lie, right?

And those damned eyes. They seemed familiar but at the same time, she found new depths in them each time she focussed on them. She stared at those dark orbs for a while before tracking back down to his lips.

This man was too beautiful for Y/N to hold her sanity. But she had to try. He was who he was in the public eye, but he was also Sammy’s friend.

Sammy is one of the most important pieces in the stained glass panel of her life. And pursuing something like this with one of his friends and industry peers would intermingle things beyond a point of recovery.

She readjusted her posture with an audible sigh.

Yoongi drew in a sharp breath and looked down at his hands fiddling with a coaster on the floor. An apology sitting at the tip of his tongue. But before he could get it out he could hear Y/N say, “We’re drunk, aren’t we?”

He looked up to see a smile on her face. He would call it fond but there was something else in it. However, he could not stop smiling back. He nodded slightly and let out a huff of giggle. For a moment it felt like he was 16 again.

Y/N slapped her thighs and got up. “I will get you some covers,” and by the time Yoongi managed to drag his ass up onto the couch, she was back with a comforter and a throw blanket.

She held the folded items out to him, “‘s all I could find.” He muttered a thank you and when he went to grab them, his left palm grazed over hers, ever so slightly. But it was enough to spark him awake, out of whatever sleepy haze he was in a moment earlier.

He heard Y/N say “sleep well” on her way back to her room. He lay on his back staring at an empty spot on the ceiling, trying to replay images from earlier that evening and the last thought he remembered having was that he had to ask her out. Properly.

Yoongi woke up to a slight pinching sensation on his chest. He opened his eyes to see Ash making biscuits on his pecs. He nuzzled the kitten closer to his face and drifted off again for a couple of minutes before waking up to a strong waft of coffee that Sammy was brewing in the kitchen.

Y/N had left for work already. Yoongi left soon after coffee and a handful of muesli. He expected Sammy to tease him in some manner but was not met with anything other than what their normal mornings post a night-long drinking session sounded like.

Work kept him busy enough for the next couple of days. But not enough for him to completely ignore what he decided to do. Ask her out. Properly.

Which brings us all to today. Wednesday. Almost midnight. Yoongi was a little taken aback to learn Y/N was not in. But that minor flick of a longing he could not put a name to yet, immediately lit a few of his neurons alight and he had to get the beats and melody down before it slipped away.

Sammy, amused as he was, also impressed by the tune, brought out his trustee Fender CD60 to play around with.

Splayed across the living room floor, with a few beer cans, a couple of notebooks, a guitar and a laptop on each of their laps - that is how Y/N found the two men when she came in after her departmental dinner with a few of her university colleagues.

[melodrama-ticcc]

.: 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 :.

abstract: bubba never learned the importance of acts of kindness and simple gestures. your new role in the family has begun to change that.

warnings: reader and bubba are platonic. brother/sister relationship, fluff and pure wholesomeness, brief mention of killing, i didn’t proofread because i am very lazy, sorry heheh.

—

solace is found in the tranquility of the bright, cheery sunflowers. their golden tincture and lofty height making them as warm and inviting as the summer sun. rays of sunshine emitting from their dark centers. their triumphant stocks grow thick and long, hairy spines catching the light of the midday sun above. their heads look to the sky as if to admire the faultless beauty in its cerulean colors and heavy heat of the dazzling star above them. leaves droop in a careless fashion, gifting some shade to the creatures below. it’s pretty, the way they shift and dance gently in the warm breeze that falters. only to return every so often with another soft gust.

they’re all-seeing, observers of all in a never ending spectacle. perhaps that is the reason they brought fourth the idea of contentment and peace. for they bare no judgement. complacent in their nature and the symbol of joy and happiness.

the sunflower fields were perhaps the only place on the homestead untouched by the wretched atrocities committed by this bloodlust family. less the human matter that compromised the soil’s fertilizer should be considered in that regard. but, what was unbeknownst to her wouldn’t bare her any harm.

the flowers come in varying lengths and sizes. some stemming to be taller than her, others rise just above her hip line, some greet her at eye level, and the smallest of them all barely reach the knees. the sun peaks through the foliage to glisten over the high points of the girl’s features. shining brilliantly against the bridge of her nose as she winces against the warmth of the texas sun. a soft smile befalls her chapped lips as she feels the warmth tickle against the skin of her face, down the length of her neck and glimmering prettily over her exposed collarbones. reaching upwards, she can just barely grasp the soft rays of the flowers. rubbing the velvety petals between the pads of her fingers delicately. they’re warm with the day’s sun. flashing in the golden colors of the heat from above. it’s pleasant and peaceful, euphoric in a way one might not expect to experience in a place like this. it is strange to find such a beautiful and inviting thing.

bubba never fully understood the value and importance of gentle gestures and tenderness. but perhaps, this was on account of how he’d been raised by his immoral and detached elder brothers. he found it difficult to express such elaborate displays of affection, strange to be benevolent and careful with others. the only time he’d ever experienced such was with grandpa, but that was on account of his disability and frailness. in other words, bubba hadn’t seen him as a threat.

for he feared more than he could bear to be sweet and soft. he feared more than he felt safe. the constant come and go of strangers had put him in a constant state of uncertainty and terror, a constant looming of paranoias. for he killed of fear, not malice. this young woman was no exception.

bubba watched as her arm twirled gracefully in the sunlight. cautiously from a short distance in that same sunflower field. often times he sought the advice and comfort of the flowers and their wisdom. frolicked in their own carefree and pleasant ways. it has been amongst the only times he would find peace of mind. an escape from the influx of insults and violence hurled his way by the family. a place where someone like him could truly be gleeful.

he watches as she reaches for the fragile flowers closer towards the ground. spinning it between her slender fingers as she brings the bud up to her nose. a quiet sniff, and a gentle smile. intrigued, he mimics her actions. carefully bending over to pluck a small sunflower from the soil, sitting back up, and bringing the head of the flower to his nose to smell for himself.

the smell of the earth fills bubba’s nostrils. the faintest hint of sweetness invading the warm smell. it’s soft and sweet, yet strikes him unexpectedly. he sniffles, not before dropping the flower as he sneezes. his foot moving to step on the plant accidentally. the fragrance twinges his nose, despite its pleasant smell. he’s stunned, spooked, and upset he’d destroyed something he found to be so pretty. groans of concern and sadness leave his mouth as he stares at the partially destroyed flower. only to look back up to find the girl slowly approaching him. offering him her own flower she’d picked only moments ago in the accident’s wake.

she’s terrified, still not fully accustomed to her new home life or family members. therefore cautious and unsure, just as he is. but she sees the vulnerability and display of softness bubba possesses. and a part of her almost feels pity, intertwined with the longing to be kind to such a lost soul.

her frail arm shaking, bubba hesitantly takes the flower from her hand. her gesture met with just as much caution and fear. but beneath that skin mask, he smiles. a disgruntled and amused laugh befalling his lips. his display of happiness is met with a bright smile. to which, the both find some degree of comfort. she moves to remove the mutilated flower from the ground below, examining it closely and shaking her head.

“ it ain’t ruined. ” she dusts the dirt from its petals and reveals a flower crushed and bent. it’s petals wilted and the middle plucked of some of its fuzz. the stem is cracked in half, but she prevails, holding it out to display it to him. “ it’s still beautiful, see for yourself. ”

bubba scoots closer to examine the damage he’d done, finding himself confused by what she meant. it was mangled and ugly, much like he saw himself. but she only pressed on, despite his sounds of disappointment.

“ it’s beautiful, to me. ” she whispers, clasping it to her chest. “ here — i’ll keep this one, the one i picked is a gift from me to you. ”

bubba only nods, staring in awe at the flower he held. he’d never been given a gift like this before. it felt, strange. it filled him with a great sense of joy and gratitude. that foreign feeling of safety and tranquility filling him as he stood with her. ah, perhaps she was his new favorite sibling.

their exchange is short, yet it became the moment he had began to learn the importance of simple kind gestures. maybe, the beginning of his understanding of gentleness. he felt a little less scared. and in the hot summer months when time had allowed it, they’d return to the sunflower fields to bask in its beauty and warmth. she’d braid flower crowns and place them atop his head, and they’d fill baskets with flowers to craft fancy bouquets for the dinner table each night. bubba even found it in him to gift flowers to his brothers, despite their unappreciative nature to the gift. despite that, he’d always feel great satisfaction when seeing the smile on y/n and sissy’s faces when he gave them a flower.

[ghost-bxrd]

Some fae!Dick freaking the hell out of the court of owls?

The Court of Owls is… disturbed, in one word.

They don’t know where the new talon came from (“not a talon!” Dick will sing-song eventually, “not a bird! Can you guess my name?”) but it is goddamn weird.

It laughs in the handlers’ faces, it slips from the edge of a cliff only to reappear back at their sides a minute later, head cocked the way owls do, inquisitive and predatory.

It’s goddamn weird and they don’t know where it came from. They ask the labs, but the scientists cite ignorance. They think they remember something but their minds are all foggy and weird.

Cameras only manage to capture glimpses of teeth-feathers-bones-eyes before shorting out.

The other talons refuse to get close to the strange talon for no discernible reason. (Dead things have no business existing anywhere near something so utterly alive).

And Dick has fun. He has so much fun. He found the strangers in the cave system beneath Gotham, found their little dead pets and the masks, and felt right at home in the strangeness of it all. An evil strangeness, sure. But it appealed to something inherently wild and other in him that he couldn’t help but play a little.

And it’s fun, but it has to end sooner than later. Bruce will get worried, after all. And Dick doesn’t want his family to worry.

So in the end he leaves again to go back to the manor and Alfred and Bruce, leaving the Court disturbed and almost decimated to nothingness over night.

Hehehe

[happypot0001]

⚠️Characters belong to @just-a-carrot 🥕⚠️

I wish it wasn’t so, but everyone is probably going to have an obstacle once in their life. Some may be bigger than others, but I believe that you’re a good person. 🫵 There must be a reason that you’re suffering, even if you ARE a good person. I don’t have a say in this, but I can only wish for the best with you and your life. If you don’t believe you’re a good person, then I believe you will be. This is a complete stranger who’s talking to you, but this is also a stranger who has encountered her own problems. You don’t have to take my words to heart, I’m no therapist or anything 😭😭😭 but all the same…I hope life gives you what you deserve 💕💕

I would feel a bit guilty if I didn’t say this, so I’ll just give an honorable mention to @sailingseals ⛵️!! I’ve been really inspired by their art and I never actually looked at it when I was creating this but I do vaguely remember how they shade so….yeah this shading was kinda inspired by them 😭😭😭

Lots of love to anyone who may be reading!! 💕💕

I…CANT BELIEVE I FINISHED THIS IN LESS THAN A DAY!!!! LESS THAN TWENTY FOUR HOURS WOOHOOOOOOO LETS GOOOOOO!!!!! Ekekjedkdk I really enjoyed drawing this!!!! It was always a vague idea stuck in the back of my mind but finally it’s been brought out on my phone!! (Yes I drew on my phone again where the freak is my iPad 😭😭😭) Bro when I was drawing, I had been using that one picture where Iggy was tied up with ribbons and all three of the love interests had like locks on him and stuff and that brought SO MANY MEMORIES FROM OW 😭😭😭😭😭 I loved it sm heheh

About…what….like two or three hours ago???? Maybe more but around that time frame. Anyways, at that time I was doing some work while playing a sad song (Absence by Rio Romeo 🙏🙏) while ALSO crying (for the second time today what 😭😭) and when I cry, I want to draw people crying 😃😃 but like I’ve always adored the thought of like someone kissing someone else’s tears 🥰🥰🥰 idk where I’ve seen that from but…like…idk it just seems like a cute idea 😭😭😭 so I was like “wait why don’t I just draw that it seems like a cute idea” so…yeah HAHA as you can see I gave GIDGET the honor of doing that 😋😋😋 I was thinking of how to do this and I was first going to do just Iggy sitting and crying all sad and just disappointed and THEN do all the extras but I decided that was like a waste of time and so I just decided against that 😭😭😭😭😭 I still like how it turned out anyway, even if I didn’t do that!!!! I mean like obviously I’m not the best at drawing but since I’m my biggest uhhh enemy (it think that’s what people say) ???? I say that it looks better than most of my other works!!! I knew I wanted to do all of the love interests so I was deciding how I should have each of them comforting Iggy, and uhhh…well you see obviously 😭😭😭 if you need help differentiating how I drew each character doing that then: it’s like just Orlam touching up on Iggy trying to make him feel better with cuddles or smth of the like. Gidgets cutely kissing his tears because why not😆😆😆 and Genzou is just crying along with him 😭😭😭😭 idk I thought they fit but whatever it sounds dumb when I say it out loud but I’ve already drawn it 😭😭😭 uhmmmmm….if I were to claim this as any firsts…I’d say it’s like my first time properly drawing Orlam?! And also GIDGET with their normal hair down!!!

JDFDJDJ if any of these hit a deep spot in your heart then I’d really like to know!!! I hope that if you’re sad or not that you have a very blessed life and the universe gives you the treatment that you deserve, which I can only assume is the best treatment!!!! OF COURSE WE JUST NEED A MENTION TO 🥕 WHO IS THE CREATOR OF THESE AMMAAAAAAAZZINGGGG CHARACTERSSSSS!!! THANK YOU FOR CREATING THESE CHARACTERS AND SUCH A LOVING COMMUNITY FOR US!!!! WE ENJOY EVERYTHING YOU MAKE AND WILL ALWAYS BE THRILLED IF YOU WERE TO MAKE ANY MORE!!!!!

Lots of love to anyone who may be reading once again!! 💕💕

[mariaofdoranelle]

Look at Us Now - Bonus chapter 23.5: Maisie’s pov

Fic masterlist

Getting Maisie’s voice right was challenging (and the whole reason I didn’t consider writing her pov before loll), and I don’t think I nailed it, but I kinda like how this chapter turned out heheh enjoy!

Rowan mentioned dropping Maisie at Aedion’s on ch. 23, and this is what happened

*Winks at this Nonnie*

Warnings: none?

Words: 2,6k

“F—fork,” Uncle Aedion said as soon as he opened his front door, rubbing his eyes. “Rowan, what the fork are you doing here at six-thirty?”

Maisie sighed, holding Fleetfoot. She knew what he was going to say, that word she couldn’t repeat either. But if grown-ups hated the word ‘fuck’ so much, why were they always saying it?

“I brought Maisie for a fun morning with you.” Rowan patted his daughter in the head, a reminder of the terrible braid he made. It was the fastest braid he’s ever done, with no ribbons and some strands thicker than others. Her mom would never let her go out with hair like this. “You can go to the pool…” He trailed when Aedion wouldn’t stop glaring. “The playground?” Rowan’s face started turning into a grimace. “Watch TV? Roblox?“

Maisie’s heartbeat fastened. Her dad was strict about screens, so something must’ve happened. And it was weird that her mom didn’t sleep with them last night. The only change was Fleetfoot, but Aelin liked Fleetfoot—she even promised to play with them later.

But she didn’t.

The little girl turned off from the conversation her dad and uncle were having, needing to think. Most of the time, she was the cause of her parents’ fights, since they were always shouting her name at each other, but it all got better when they started going to the playground together. She didn’t hear them shouting anyone’s name, but maybe her dad would feel better if Maisie took him to the playground with her mom.

The little girl clutched Fleetfoot to her chest, her heart feeling all tight and squeeze-y inside.

Rowan and Aedion were having a weird staring thing, so she didn’t miss much.

“We can go to the pool once it opens.” The last words didn’t sound nice, and Maisie didn’t like the way Uncle Aedy was talking to her dad. Not sure of what to do, her eyes darted between the two men.

Rowan ran a hand through his head. “Look, I know I should’ve—“

“And I have a guest sleeping upstairs,” Aedion added, eyebrows raised.

Her dad’s eyes widened, and for once he seemed to change his mind, his expression dropping. “I’m sorry. I’ll try Lorcan—“

“No, I—“ Aedion ran a palm over his face, shoulders dropped, and when he looked up again, it was like a different person. He smiled down at Maisie. “Come on, Kiddo.” He patted her shoulder, frowning just a little bit at her ugly braid. “Gods, I’m as bad as your mother when I wake up too soon. It doesn’t even look like I’m always asking her for more time with you, huh?”

Her uncle gave her a reassuring smile, lighting up Maisie’s mood a little.

“Just—“ Rowan cleared his throat. “Your guest… is he or she decent?”

She didn’t understand why Aedion’s smirk was so big, but at least he said, “She’s a mom—a very good one. Don’t worry about her.”

Her dad hesitated, but handed her purple backpack. Maisie knew he didn’t like leaving her with strangers, but he trusted Aedion, even if Aelin complained about him.

Rowan crouched down to remind her of everything every grown-up ever told her, but she wasn’t worried about staying with her uncle. Instead, she thought about her dad. He had already done everything Maisie thought was impossible, so she trusted him to fix things today. He did it once by taking her mom to the playground, he could do it again.

“…don’t talk to strangers, don’t listen to anyone but your uncle, and don’t leave his side, okay? Do not, under any circumstance, run off.” A pause for emphasis. “But if you do, call me when you get lost.” He lifted a brow.

Maisie let out a heavy sigh, already knowing what to do. She recited her dad’s phone number in front of him, watching him check if she was correct.

“That’s perfect.” He kissed her forehead. “Your mother’s now.”

Like she remembered the second part of it. “You’re teaching too many numbers,” Maisie protested, “It’s making me dizzy!”

Uncle Orlon said her life would be easier once she knew how to count, but she was having a tough time agreeing with him. Ever since Maisie learned it, Rowan had been making her learn phone numbers. She tried to remind him that she could know every number in the world and play Roblox if he just gave her a phone, but it was hard to change her dad’s mind.

After a long time of her dad being a big Buzzard, Aedion finally shooed him away. He banged the door closed and grimaced at the sound, then dropped her big purple bag and Fleetfoot’s smaller one at the couch.

“You hungry, Kiddo?”

“Yes,” Maisie lied. She ate breakfast at home, but she also had plans.

“I can make you a grilled cheese,” he called on his way to the kitchen. Maisie carefully laid her puppy on the floor and ran to her uncle.

“Can I eat lots of sweets and then you tell Mom and Dad that I ate grilled cheese?”

She didn’t expect Aedy’s loud laugh.“Nice try, Kiddo. I’m more scared of your mom than you.”

Maisie frowned, a little grumpy about her plan not working out, but she could convince him to give her sweets later. It worked with her mom most of the time.

“You’re lucky I did the groceries for my friend yesterday,” he said, head stuck on the fridge. “I have Brie, Gouda and provolone.”

Interesting. Maisie had no idea what any of these were. “I want grilled cheese.”

“With which cheese?”

The little girl sat up straighter. No one ever asks her that, but Uncle Aedy would mock her forever at any sign of weakness. “The yellow one.”

He snorted, but brought a very yellow cheese to the counter. “Good choice.” He paused before closing the fridge. “With salad?”

“No, thank you.”

“Good manners, Munchkin,” Aedion praised, even if Aelin always complained that he had none. “Would your parents even ask if you want salad?”

She giggled. “No, but you did.”

He sat her on the counter so Maisie could help him make the perfect grilled cheese—like cutting off the crunchy part of the bread and making triangles, or adding the perfect amount of cheese. It looked so good, Aedion even made one for himself.

“This is the bestest grilled cheese ever,” she said on the table where they ate, eyes closed to taste it better. It tasted differently from the one her parents made, but it was so good Maisie wished she could give some to Fleetfoot, who was laying at her feet.

“Really?” Aedion perked up. “Better than your dad’s?”

“No.”

Uncle Aedy didn’t seem as happy anymore, but her parents always tell her that it’s bad to lie.

He changed the subject. “So, you’ve got a dog now?”

“Yep.” She gave her uncle a big grin. “I went to a dog place with Uncle Dorian and Uncle Fen, because they were looking for one. Daddy went too, but he kept being bossy with me and didn’t even notice them. Then, I saw this little puppy, and I just loved her so much!”

“She is cute,” Aedy said, leaving the table to sit with Fleetfoot on the kitchen floor. Maisie did the same, not caring about their dirty plates. He grabbed a small toy the dog chewed on, trying to play with her. “I think Dorian posted about it on Instagram. They got two rescue boxers, right?”

“Yes,” the little girl said without explaining a lot. She was still grumpy about her uncles—why invite her if they wouldn’t do anything she said?

“Did you like them? What’re their names?”

She frowned. “Calvin and Klein.”

Aedy leaned back, laughing loud. She couldn’t figure out why it was funny.

“What? You don’t like it?”

“No,” she said with her arms crossed.

“But they’re boxers!”

Who cares? Just because the doggies have a smushed, grumpy face, it doesn’t mean they can’t have cute names. Maisie sighed. “Calvin is okay, but Klein?” she said in a squeaky voice. “Klein isn’t a good name for a dog, a kitty, a fish, not even a giraffe!”

Aedion had this smiley, funny face on. It didn’t even look like they were talking about something important. “So you think ‘Fleetfoot’ is a better name than ‘Klein’?”

“Much better. Fleetfoot is the cutest, babiest puppy name.”

“Did your dad teach you how to clean her poop?”

“Daddy’s having a tough time teaching me how to clean me after I poop.” Much less Fleetfoot. It’s too much poop for a kid to clean.

“Fair enough. She’s sleeping outside, then?”

“She’s sleeping with me.”

Aedion snorted. “I doubt your parents would let it.”

“She is!” the little girl shouted, then crossed her arms, eyes squinted at him. “If Daddy sleeps in twos, I can sleep in twos too.”

Maisie never got to join her parents’ sleepovers, so she told her dad that she’d have super fun slumber parties with Fleetfoot and not invite them too. Rowan said it was fair.

His eyebrows went so high it looked funny. “Your dad sleeps in what?” Aedy asked really loudly.

“We’re all sleeping in twos now. We spend the day together because it’s more fun, and then Daddy sleeps with Mommy, and now I’m sleeping with Fleetfoot too.”

He bent down to be eye-to-eye with Maisie, eyes as big as plates. “So your mom and your dad… they’re sleeping in the same bed now? You’re sure of that?”

She sighed. This was getting boring, and she was supposed to spend the morning at the pool. But maybe… is this why her mom’s always saying that she worries about Uncle Aedy when he’s alone? Because he needs someone to hug?

Maisie put one hand on his shoulder, petting it like she sees adults doing sometimes to someone who’s sad. “Hugging someone when you sleep is nice because it makes us feel happy and safe. That’s why we’re all sleeping in twos now,” she said, hoping he’d get the tiny suggestion.

Maybe he was worse than her mom thought. Uncle Aedy was so surprised he didn’t say anything, and his mouth was open so big a fly could come right in.

“Aw. That’s so sweet, Mais.”

Maisie heard the voice coming from the door, squealed when she saw Auntie Lys there and ran to hug her.

Aedion blinked, still looking a little frozen. “Okay, Kiddo, focus on me. Just to be sure, your mom and your dad—”

“Shh!” Lys gave him a sneaky grin while she hugged Maisie. “I didn’t know I’d see you today, Hawkie.”

The little girl giggled at the nickname. Auntie Lys started calling her that after seeing the White Hawks shirt her dad sometimes makes her wear to soccer classes. It was her favorite team—not that Maisie knew many—and she liked cheering for them with her parents.

“Is Timmy here?” The little girl asked his mom, excited with the idea. Maybe she could take them to the pool, since Aedy was a little slow today.

“No, he’s not…” Lys trailed, combing Maisie’s loose strands out of her face until she saw that crazy braid. She made a funny noise with her throat and kept going, “And I’d appreciate it if you waited a little to tell him you saw me with your uncle. You see, Timmy hasn’t met him yet, and I don’t want him to feel left out.”

Maisie walked past Lys, into the living room, and threw herself on the couch. What’s a girl gotta do to go to the pool here?

“I don’t have anything cool to tell him anyway. I know Uncle Aedy likes boys more than girls.”

Aedion ran to her, his eyes big again. “What?”

Why was he making her repeat everything she said today? “I know you and Auntie Lys aren’t boyfriend and girlfriend because you like boys more than girls.”

“No, that’s not—“ He looked between her and Lys, saying the f word that would make Maisie’s mom mad—he said it in a low voice and probably thought she didn’t hear it, but she did. Her auntie was laughing, but Aedy looked red like a tomato, and he said, “Not like that! I like boys and girls the same, okay?”

Huh. Maisie held her chin with her hand, trying to understand. People like girls or boys more, because they have to pick one to marry and have kids, puppies or kitties with. But if Uncle Aedy liked both… her eyes widened with realization.

“Is that why you’re not married? Because you can’t find a boy and a girl to marry at the same time?”

“No!” he answered super quickly. Auntie Lys had the same red face as him, but she was laughing, while Uncle Aedy looked weird and mixed up. “I don’t wanna be with two people. Not that I can’t, it’s… actually, I can’t anymore, but—“ Aedion sighed and ran a hand through his face. “I’m like your Uncle Dorian, you know? Like when he used to date your mom—“

“That’s a lie!” Maisie screamed, feeling angry for her mom and uncle both. “Uncle Dorian likes boys more than girls.”

He and Uncle Fen have puppies together. He doesn’t want to marry a girl! And him and her mom—ew. He’s her uncle, not a second daddy, and Maisie liked it that way.

“Yes, yes.” Aedy squatted to look at her in the face, holding both her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Kiddo. I’m just trying to explain that some people look for girls or boys to be with, but I look in both until I find one person to settle down with. You got it?”

“Yes,” she lied. Girls or boys was easy to understand, but if you could search in both, it’s not helpful to chop off half the people you could marry. Maisie sighed, resting on the couch. Whenever she talked about marrying a girl because boys are gross, her dad said she was too little to decide. She was finally understanding that he knew something she didn’t—or maybe he still knows something else she doesn’t yet.

Uncle Aedy looked ready to say something else when his phone rang. “It’s your mom,” he said before taking it, answering her with lots of yes and um-hum, and finally letting her—and Maisie—know that yes, they were going to the pool soon.

He passed her the phone. “Your mom wants to talk to you.”

“Mom?”

“Hey, Maisy Daisy.” The happiness in her mother’s voice made Maisie feel better too. If her mom was happy, it meant her dad was happy too, and if both of them were happy, it meant her dad fixed whatever he needed to fix. “Your father told me you were spending the morning with your uncle. Are you having fun? Are you hungry?”

“It’ll be nicer once we go to the pool,” she said, eyes squeezed at her uncle, watching him closely so he’d know she hadn’t forgotten about that promise. “And we ate grilled cheese. It was yummy.”

“That’s great, honey.”

Her mom sounded relaxed in a way it only happened when she was being lazy, and Maisie didn’t want to end it with something serious, but she had questions.

“Uncle Aedy just told me that you and Uncle Dorian were boyfriend and girlfriend.” Maisie scrunched up her nose. “That’s super duper gross. Did you do it or not?”

“AEDION TOLD YOU WHAT?!”

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[admirxation]

˗ˏˋ admirxation's weekly fic recs ´ˎ˗

!! dark content ahead, please read the warnings the authors have provided, and then continue at your own discretion !!

5th may '24: here are some fics i've collected this week, obviously this is not every single fic but i wanted to give some more spotlight on the ones that literally had me bouncing off the walls lmao. if anyone wants to see more recommendations i have a 'admirxation fic recs' tag if you're ever wanting to read something, and i want to try and do this every Sunday to give some love to creators. i will try to limit this to 10-20, and some weeks might be shorter cuz i don't always have to time. thank you to these creators making these fics and please give them some love

resident evil fics

“If I gotta sin to see her again then I’m gonna lie.” [NSFW] {dad’s boss!Jack Krauser x fem!reader} ~ The reader ends up on their knees for the stranger allowed in their house; starting a fling with her fathers boss.

this was written by @mrswint3rs now i read this a bit ago but i just can’t forget about it. i love krauser content so much like there needs to be more content for this man, i love my pookie leon a feral amount but pookie bear needs to share some spotlight for the other RE guys. i am not embarrassed to admit that i keep rereading this fic, it does something to the brain chemistry. honestly the moment this girl posts more krauser fics im leaping like it’s my last meal cuz AHHHHHHH. the forceful but seductive characterisation that is written within krauser is so memorable and had me blushing and kicking my feet, and to expose myself further the secrecy tropes always get the meter going they are my guilty pleasure.

playing house [NSFW] {stepdad!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader} ~ the readers mother had passed away, leaving Leon and the reader to get closer.

this was written by @miss-oranje-disco-dancer now i always thought i wasn’t into the whole ddlg scene, before anyone things im hating i never gave hate to the concept i was just never apart of the craze if u get me, however, this fic has made me rlly rlly crave ddlg content to the point i’m wondering if the writer laced their words with crack cuz IM SO HOOKED. the gradual progression of the reader and leon is so hot, especially *spoilers for the rest of the fic* when they start sharing a bed dude the tingles i felt, and then the breeding when the reader acts so nonchalant about being bred by leon like YESSIR I NEED THIS MORE THAN ANYTHING.

Playground Love {older!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader} ~ age gap love between reader and Leon.

this was written by @j3llyd0nut . i might have a problem which how much older men fanfics i consume, like gurl its becoming a big problem… that i dont wanna fix oop- this fic doesn’t go into smut (ik what a shocker for me to be recommending something that is straight up porn lmao) but it does deal with age gaps, and i felt the way the writer portrayed it was so well written, especially with the readers’ mothers feelings to it. dating someone older comes with a mix of feelings, the envy was well encapsulated as well as the worry where it is often people try to warn. also the ending quote was such a killer (as an oscar wilde fan hehe… im an english student i love a reference).

Nerd Leon [NSFW] {nerdy!Leon Kennedy x nerdy!fem!reader} ~ Leon and the reader are both virgins who have had a crush on one another.

this was written by @nvoirs (it won’t let me tag them but you have the link to go show them some love). i love lil nerdy leon, he's so cute, especially with the pictures above the fic hehe. honestly the reader is so relatable, the idea of someone asking you out as a joke hahah ive been there too many times, no one can force me back into high school i will claw them. i quite liked the dynamic of them learning together, hehehe it's so so hot and cute at the same time and it deserves so much more love in my humble and very correct opinion.

the last of us fics

older Joel Miller [NSFW] {older!Joel Miller x afab!reader} ~ ft nervous Joel who hasn’t dated in a while and nervous to be with the reader who reassures she wants to be with him.

this was written by @pedroshotwifey and omfg i’m like the biggest simp for joel to the point it’s honestly embarrassing lmao, i feel like they wrote joel quite well and i would imagine if he was to become involved with someone again he would be nervous and be in his head about it; i found the writing of the transition back into sharing physical intimacy really well written and enjoyable, it’s not easy to do that but the author did it so well. my fav joel oneshot.

jujutsu kaisen fics

A proper send off [NSFW] {stepdad!Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader} ~ Toji puts his claim on the reader before she goes to college

this was written by @bratbby333. i feel like i died, like the author put the words on the screen and it make me curl up in a ball and squirming cuz i need toji biblically, and then i died, and then the words brought be back to heaven and then i was bonked and put into horny jail. i’m actually feral for this man. i’m feral for too many fictional men but toji is ughhhhh AHFJFKDKSKSKDDKEKSKW. i loved the descriptions of the reader almost being made for him, or more accurately, Toji making the reader made for him; the description of *SPOILERS* him moulding her pussy for his dick was YUM YUM YUM YUM YUM, i was salivating like fucking homer simpson I NEED IT.

Daddy Issues [NSFW] {stepdad!Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader} ~ reader is a brat whose stopped by her step father Toji

this was written by @nexysworld and my oh my does this girl cook, I AM THE BIGGEST NEXY FAN EVER HEHEHEHEHE. i am a new recruit to the toji fan club and boy oh boy was this the most exciting oneshot to first read after finding my love for this beautiful man. I gotta say the way nexy writes toji is honestly a game changer. like he’s such a jerk that u wanna slap, but i also am enticed by how much of a jerk he is… and perhaps wanna be slapped by him- WHO SAID THAT 👀 damn.

“well, we should probably fuck. Right?” [NSFW] {satoru gojo x fem!reader} ~ reader and gojo are trapped in the prison realm with nothing else to do.

this was written by @kingkonoha. now as we have all learnt about me liking something normally isn’t in my vocabulary; if i like a piece of media best believe im putting my whole soul into it. jjk is a new edition to my fandom endeavours and heheh gojo is my first love, im such a gojo girlie IF ANYONE COMES TO DETROY MY PEACE F OFF LMAO (gojo and toji girlie fr i am). okay if you’re a gojo girlie, kingkonoha’s writing is top tier. i loved the way they encapsulated gojo’s personality, he’s so cocky in this oneshot and ugh i just can’t help but see it so on brand for gojo; also the dirty talk in this fic is like toe curling afhdisosfheisidfhwowjwf I NEED HIM IN A WAY THAT IS CONCERNING TO FEMINISM.

The fanboy guide [NSFW] {satoru gojo x fem!reader} ~ gojo is the readers number one fan and manages to finally meet them in a meet and greet.

this was written by @kingkonoha . i love obsessing over fictional men BUT OH THIS FIC RLLY HAD THE TURNED TABLES. look i dont need anyone judging my likes, i like the idea of someone, especially gojo, obsessing over me and telling me he loves me while i ride him. girlhood = hearing i love you while riding gojo lmao. i love this creator to the point they’re probably fed up on me constantly liking their stuff haha. some bits i wanna point out, the dirty talk was like A* and the way he’s obsessed and basically babbles i love u like AFHFJSWISODODOWKWNEJ this has a chokehold on me and is like feral spray for the gojo girlies to get going lmao.

Tease [NSFW] {satoru gojo x fem!reader} ~ reader teases her sensei over text, and he later shows up at the readers door.

this was written by @dark-and-kawaii . oh look more gojo fics, are we surprised, no rlly cuz he's so hot and ugh i need him so much. i love dirty talk especially sexting it's so hot, but the fact he literally shows up at the door? i was shook but like in a horny way lmao. honestly the jealousy he feels it’s like kinda embarrassing how much i love to imagine someone all jealous over me like hehe tell me how much im in ur mind rent free HAHA. honestly i love this blog, i followed for the bg3 content and stayed for like the absolute talent in every one of their works, so much love <3

i will possess your heart [NSFW] {yandere!satoru gojo x fem!reader} ~ satoru thinks the reader belongs to him and will go any length to make that happen.

this was written by @bratbby333 . okay on this account we love a yandere, the idea of someone being so obsessed that it’s a danger to the lover, themselves and everyone around, A MUST!!!! honestly, it’s kinda baddddd how much i love these yandere oneshots but oh well it’s not like im gonna stop eating this up when everyone fr cooks. i honestly have to say this is the best yandere fic ive seen, like i was fangirling over the author over every word and punctuation they strung together, like huhhhhh it had me on a chokehold throughout it all. the journey of obsession and how far gojo went and his pathway to that was so well written, and the scene with the ex boyfriend and the heart ?!?!?!?! i was literally wide eyed like an owl going “WHAT OMFG”.

to be ex husband [NSFW] {satoru gojo x fem!reader} ~ ex bf gojo comes back in readers life and asks for a hand in marriage.

this was written by @arminsumi . lmao this fic made me have so many emotions. first of all, SHOKO MY BELOVED IS MY BESTIE I LOVE SHOKO. but the idea of gojo being an ex cuz he was a play boy i was like hmmm f u man, breaking my heart (like bruh i was so offended like i actually was the reader to the point i was like bruh i have to calm down) and then after when he’s getting all giggly with suguru im like hehehehe let the fucking commence i need me some gojo action. honestly this fic has an amazing balance of oooo this is sexy, to feelings of being a lil mad, but also comedic moments. it honestly encaptures gojo’s character so well, i was rlly impressed. also i didn’t know how much i needed someone to ask for marriage while fucking ahe