#and he always laughs and says it playfully but i feel like there’s truth in it

[chryblossomjjk]

he has the most beautiful eyes

[alastorss]

Hi! I hope you're having a good day! I've been thinking, how would Alastor react to the reader casually saying stuff like "I like your laugh, it's nice," and "You voice is really soothing," out of the blue.

a/n: oh i loooooved writing this ^ ^ he would 100% be the type to try and hide that he actually likes the compliments but fail miserably. thank you and i hope you like this!

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You'd like to say you know everything about Alastor, but that's far from the truth.

You know his mother's jambalaya recipe, sure, and that he takes his coffee black. You've memorized the intro of his morning broadcast, and learned the feeling of his chin propped on your shoulder.

There are pieces of Alastor you know like the back of your hand, but somehow you've never even scratched the surface of deciphering him. He was just like that, you suppose—an enigma wrapped in another mystery that would take a lifetime to unravel.

The only thing he liked more than his secrets was keeping them, after all.

And he especially enjoyed toying with you—dangling little tidbits of trivia about him in front of your face and snatching it away when you inevitably took the bait. He'd laugh about it, too, saying you were so adorable for trying.

For some time you had hypothesized that his ears were a good way of gauging his real thoughts about matters, but he was irritatingly good at controlling those as well. Not even the slightest twitch to give away his inner monologue.

"You are so annoying, you know that?" You once told him while brushing your teeth, words coming out muffled from your toothbrush. Minty foam gathered at your mouth while you glared at him through the reflection in the mirror.

He only laughed, as he always did, and propped his chin on your shoulder.

"How rude!" He chastised you playfully.

You leaned down to rinse your mouth. "I'm just saying," you muttered after standing tall again, "I wish I knew what was going through that head of yours sometimes."

Unsurprisingly, Alastor's expression was unreadable.

He opted to bite your cheek and walk away from the conversation after that, not bothering to enlighten you even slightly.

You watched him from across the bathroom, eyeing the way his shadow danced around him with a mind of its own before it disappeared into the darkness.

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His downfall began with a comment you made after you ended up falling asleep with your head on his shoulder.

He had been reading the latest article about the Vees to you out loud, practically singing his amusement with how terrible this column had painted out Vox to be. With fame came criticism, of course, and Alastor would happily sit there and criticize Vox all day if he could.

Your head hit his shoulder quick and he sighed, ears perking at the familiar sound of your slowing breaths. (He didn't bother waking you. It's not like he had much else to do at the time.)

"Your voice is so soothing," you shrugged when you finally awoke. "The static is like... comforting white noise for me, or something."

'Or something?' he wanted to ask.

He didn't, because he didn't really care for an explanation further than that. (He definitely didn't avoid prying because he felt something warm in his chest knowing you thought that way about him.)

It kept happening after that, as much as he wishes it didn't.

Little comments you slid into conversation so casually—tiny compliments and teases that drove him up the wall. They were softening him up, flattering him in dangerous ways.

The demon felt his sanity wearing thin with each passing day, making tremendous efforts to hide the way your slips made him warm.

He's sure he is about to crack. At any moment, his ears will flick or his cheeks will cherub with genuine joy because you can't keep your words to yourself. But he's done well for himself thus far, pat on the back, for not gratifying you.

He mentally groans when you join him at the bar, eyeing his drink. "It's the middle of the day," you point out.

"And you've come to scold me?" He tuts.

"I've come to join you, actually."

Alastor chuckles, voice missing it's usual static filter. He reaches over to pour you a glass when you smile at him.

"You have a nice laugh."

He nearly shatters the glass in his hands.

You snicker quietly, leaning over the bar to creep under his face which is scrunched up in concentration.

"What's wrong? I like your laugh, you should do it more!"

Taking a deep breath, the Radio Demon reaches over to pinch your nose. You yelp and jerk away from him, glaring.

"Flattery will get you nowhere~" he sings.

Your head tilts to the side in confusion. There's a smugness to your gaze that makes him feel like a trapped animal, and he realizes that you've known all along what you've done to him.

"Oh, but I think it does," you laugh, nodding to his shadow burned into the floor.

Its smile is uncharacteristically soft, missing all semblance of its usual fangs and sharp edges. Howling in embarrassment, the shadow dives away, abandoning its owner to confront you alone.

All this time, his shadow had been the one betraying him. Through all the times he had forced his ears to stay rigid, with all the effort to maintain his mask of indifference, you'd seen where he had overlooked.

His jaw clenches so hard he can feel his teeth grinding into each other. "You are perceptive, my dear."

"No," you giggle. "You're just bad at hiding how you feel. I think it's cute."

Alastor glowers at you, but his ears flop back and forth atop his head at your praise anyway.

~

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[pucksandpower]

Fashionably Challenged

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: you and Max may not exactly be the paddock’s most stylish couple, but you wouldn’t want it any other way

You wake up to the sound of Max rummaging through the closet of your shared hotel suite. Rolling over, you see him laying out two matching outfits — the Red Bull Racing team polos, skinny jeans, and sneakers you’ve grown accustomed to over the years.

One set for him, one set for you.

“Morning, liefje,” he says, catching your gaze. “I have our outfits for the day ready to go.”

You smile sleepily. “Thanks, babe. You know me too well.”

Max grins as he walks over and climbs back into bed, throwing an arm around you. “Of course I do. Can’t have my girlfriend showing up to races looking anything less than perfect.”

You laugh and playfully shove him. “Oh shut up. You know I’d show up in a potato sack if I could.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” he says with mock seriousness. “I would never let you embarrass me like that.”

“Embarrass you?” You scoff. “Please, like you even notice what I’m wearing half the time. You’re just as bad as me when it comes to fashion.”

Max opens his mouth to protest but then shuts it, shrugging in admission. “Okay, fair point. But that’s why I always get you the same thing I’m wearing. So there’s no way we can mess it up.”

You consider this for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. We make a pretty fashionably challenged couple.”

“The most fashionably challenged,” he agrees with a laugh. He pauses, gaze growing serious. “But I like it that way. I like that we match.”

Warmth blooms in your chest. “Me too.”

The morning passes quickly as you get ready for the race. True to form, you both pull on the matching outfits without a second thought. As you’re walking out to the car, Max stops you.

“Wait,” he says, taking your hand and turning you to face him. He looks you up and down appraisingly. “You look perfect, just like always.”

You can’t help but beam at the compliment. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

He grins. “Not nearly enough.”

“Well I do,” you say, leaning in to kiss him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, schatje,” Max murmurs against your lips. “Now let’s go kick some ass today.”

The race goes well, Max taking the checkered flag to the roar of the crowds. As you’re waiting to congratulate him, a podcaster approaches you with a microphone.

“Hi there,” she says brightly. “I’m Lottie from The Racing Line. I was wondering if I could ask you a couple quick questions?”

“Oh, um, sure,” you’re a bit caught off guard.

“Great! So first off, you and Max always seem to be wearing matching outfits to the races. Is that something you two purposely coordinate as a cute couple thing?”

You feel your cheeks flush slightly. “Oh no, not at all actually. The truth is neither of us have much fashion sense at all. So Max just gets me the female version of whatever he’s wearing to make it easy.”

The podcaster looks disappointed. “Oh, I see. So it’s not some adorable couple tradition then?”

“Well, I mean, I guess in a way it kind of is?” You say quickly, feeling guilty. “Neither of us are really into fashion, so we end up matching by default anyway. I think it’s sweet that we always end up coordinating without even trying because we’re just so in sync.”

She perks up at that. “Aww, okay, I can see that! So even though it’s not on purpose, you’ve made your own cute little tradition out of it just by being so aligned. That’s really romantic.”

You nod, smiling softly. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Well thank you so much for your time,” she shakes your hand. “And congratulations to Max on another win!”

“Thank you,” you reply as she walks away.

A few minutes later Max emerges, helmet under his arm and face lit up in that way you love. You throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Congratulations baby, you were amazing out there as always.”

“Thank you, schatje,” he says, squeezing you close. He pauses, smile turning teasing. “Did you enjoy chatting with that podcaster earlier?”

You pull back, eyes narrowing. “You saw that, did you?”

He chuckles. “Of course I did. I always notice you.”

“Well then you also saw me have to completely backtrack and come up with some sappy story for why we match when she thought it was a cutesy couple thing,” you say dryly.

Max shrugs. “It kind of is though, isn’t it? Maybe not on purpose, but it’s become our thing.”

“I guess you’re right,” you admit. “I told her it was romantic how in sync we are, always coordinating outfits without even trying.”

“Hmm, I like that,” he says, grinning. “We really are pretty in sync, aren’t we? Two fashionably hopeless peas in a pod.”

You laugh. “That we are.” You look at him fondly. “But I love our way better than being one of those obnoxiously coordinated couples.”

“Me too,” he agrees. “Though I will admit ...” His gaze grows more serious. “Part of the reason I like matching is because it makes me happy to walk around wearing the same thing as you. Like we’re a unit, you know?”

Your heart skips a beat at the soft vulnerability in his voice. “Max Verstappen, you big old romantic,” you tease gently.

He shrugs but you can see the pleased look in his eyes. Sudden understanding washes over you.

“Wait a minute … is that why you got me the same outfit the first time? Not just because you thought it would be easier, but because you wanted us to match?”

Max stays silent for a moment before breaking into a sheepish grin. “You caught me.”

“Oh my god!” You shove his shoulder playfully. “You big sap!”

“What can I say? I like having my girl on my arm looking like the power couple we are,” Max says, pulling you close again. “Fashionably challenged or not.”

“If only everyone out there making you out to be the villain could see the cuddly teddy bear you really are. I absolutely love it,” you murmur, stretching up to kiss him. You can feel him smile against your lips.

As you break apart, Max squeezes your hand. “Come on, let’s go celebrate. In new matching outfits, of course.”

You pretend to roll your eyes exaggeratingly but allow him to lead you towards the exit, your hands intertwined. You truly wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

You and Max are curled up on the couch in your hotel room, his arm draped around you as you lean into his side. It’s a rare quiet moment between races and you’re savoring the feeling of Max’s fingers gently carding through your hair.

“Hey Max?” You say after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“Hmm?” He hums in response, not looking away from the football match on the TV.

“I got an interesting offer today.”

That piques his interest and he turns his head to look at you. “Oh yeah? What kind of offer?”

You take a deep breath before answering. “A sponsorship deal, actually. From Oscar de la Renta.”

Max raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Wow, that’s … really great, liefje. I’m so happy for you.”

But something in his tone makes you frown slightly. “Are you though? You don’t sound that excited.”

He gives you a half smile. “No, no, I am! That’s a huge opportunity for your career and image. Having that kind of sponsorship deal is amazing.”

“But?” You prod knowingly.

Max lets out a breath, smile fading. “But I guess part of me is a little disappointed and maybe … worried?”

“About what?”

“Well,” he shifts uncomfortably. “I like being the one who picks out your outfits for the races. Our little unintentional matching tradition has kind of become my thing, you know? I’m worried if you get sponsored by some big designer brand you won’t wear the outfits I pick out anymore. That we won’t match.”

His tone is carefully casual but you can hear the undercurrent of vulnerability. Your heart clenches in your chest.

“Oh Max ...” you murmur, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You really like our matching outfits that much?”

He averts his eyes but nods. “Yeah. I know it sounds silly, but I just … I like how in sync we are. How happy it makes me feel when we show up to the races looking like a real team. Like we’re truly partners in everything. I don’t want to lose that.”

The softness in his voice breaks your heart a little. You take his hand and give it a squeeze.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that,” you tell him gently. “Because I never would have accepted that offer anyway.”

Max blinks in surprise. “You wouldn’t?”

You shake your head. “Not a chance. First of all, they were pressuring me to only wear very high-end stuff, none of which really feels like my personal style. But more importantly ...” You lean in closer, maintaining eye contact. “They don’t have a men’s collection. So they couldn’t sponsor you too.”

Realization lights up his gaze. “Oh ...” he says softly.

You nod. “Exactly. I told them thanks but no thanks. Because no designer wardrobe is worth giving up what we have.”

Max looks stunned. “You … you turned them down? Just to keep matching with me?”

“Of course I did,” you say affectionately, poking his chest. “I would never give that up. How could I say yes to some fancy sponsorship that meant not having my fashionably challenged other half by my side, both looking like total goofballs in the one outfit the world thinks makes up the entirety of our closet?”

A slow smile spreads across his face and he pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “God, I love you,” he murmurs into your hair. “So much.”

You relax into his embrace, overwhelmed by the rush of affection. “I love you too,” you whisper. You pull back slightly to look at him. “Did you really think I’d give up matching with you over that?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, looking a little sheepish. “I guess a small part of me was worried maybe you’d be tempted by the glamor and exposure of being a designer brand ambassador.”

“You know me better than that,” you affirm. “Our matching looks are too special to me. I adore everything about our little tradition — the fact that it started because neither of us cares about fashion, to you always picking out my outfits, and how happy it makes both of us to show up to races coordinating with each other.”

You take Max’s hand, intertwining your fingers. “Don’t you see, my love? It’s not really about the clothes at all, it’s about us. About how perfectly aligned we are in this little part of our lives. And I wouldn’t change that for the world.”

Max’s eyes have gone suspiciously bright, his free hand reaching up to cradle your face. “But liefje … you could have had any designer clothing you wanted.” His voice is thick with emotion. “You turned that down … for me?”

Unable to find the words, you just nod, blinking back your own tears.

“I can’t believe it,” Max breathes out shakily. “You never cease to amaze me.”

You offer him a watery smile. “Well believe it, my love. Because there’s nothing in the world more precious to me than you and our bond. I wouldn’t sacrifice that for anything.”

A single tear escapes to trail down Max’s cheek and you quickly brush it away with your thumb. Seeming at a loss for words, he pulls you into a fierce hug, tucking your head under his chin as you settle into his embrace.

“I love you,” he finally whispers into your hair. “So damn much.”

“I love you too.” You pepper kisses along his neck and jaw until you reach his lips, capturing them in a deep, slow kiss that tries to convey every unspoken word of devotion and adoration.

When you finally break apart, Max gazes at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

“God, you really are perfect,” he murmurs, running a hand reverently through your hair. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

“No,” you shake your head with a soft smile. “I’m the lucky one. To have someone who loves me so fiercely, someone I love just as much in return.”

Max lets out a watery chuckle. “I think we’re both the lucky ones then.”

You settle back against his chest as he wraps his arms securely around you. For a while neither of you speaks, lost in your own thoughts as you simply bask in each other’s presence. You let your eyes drift shut as Max’s fingers resume their gentle motions through your hair.

Eventually you break the silence.

“You know we’re going to have to get even cuter matching outfits now to make up for it,” you murmur teasingly.

Max’s chest rumbles with laughter against your cheek. “Deal. Anything you want, schatje. I’ll make sure we’re the most adorable fashionably challenged couple at every single race from now on.”

You smile at the warmth and conviction in his voice. “No one could ever call us uncoordinated.”

“Never,” Max affirms, dropping a soft kiss to the top of your head. “We’re perfectly matched in every way that matters.”

You sigh contentedly as you snuggle further into his embrace. In that moment, you know he’s absolutely right. You couldn’t imagine a better match than your Max.

[lizthewriter]

get him back! / theodore nott

PAIRING  theodore nott x fem!reader

SUMMARY  after playboy mattheo riddle dumps you for another girl, your best friend motivates you to get the best revenge - be the girl he would always want, but could never have. you take things to the extreme when theodore nott offers you a deal you can't say no to.

TAGS  theodore nott x fem!reader, past!mattheo riddle x fem!reader, modern!au, university!au, ginny is your best friend, fake dating, college parties, gluna / linny, part 2?

QUOTE  "yeah i pour my little heart out, / but as i'm hitting send, / i picture all the faces of my dissappointed friends, / because everyone knew all of the shit that he'd do, / he said i was the only girl but that just wasn't the truth," - get him back! by olivia rodrigo

WORD COUNT 2.2K

WRITTEN  12.15.2023

hey, mattheo, how are you? i know it's been a while but i thought i'd -

No. What the hell are you doing? You hold the backspace, watching as the words you had just typed out disappeared. This was ridiculous - you couldn't keep doing this. Ginny would be so dissappointed in you. He had cheated on you, multiple times. He had spent all his time flirting with other girls. He lied to you and then his apologies were just fancy, elaborate gifts soaked in wealth and champagne. How could you still want him, need him, so viscerally?

"What are you doing?" You threw your phone over to your bed and turned around to face Ginny with a sickeningly-sweet grin.

"What? Nothing," you responded innocently. She narrowed her eyes at you in suspicion and made her way over to your bed, picking up your phone and glancing at the screen. You had forgotten to turn it off. Shit.

"Oh come on, seriously? Riddle? That douchebag?" She asked incredulously, sending you one of her famous looks of dissappointment. You got up and snatched your phone from her hand, only to crash on your bed.

"I know, I know," you responded with whine. "And I hate him too . . . but I miss him." You snatched one of your pillows and planted your face into it. The muffled scream was still louder than it ought to be, making Ginny cringe, but still rather satisfying. You let out a huff of breath. "I don't know what to do. I want to punch him in the face but at the same time . . . I want to kiss his stupid fucking face. That piece of shit."

You stared at his picture and let out a sigh. He was so damn complicated.

Ginny snatched your phone from you yet again. "All right, here's what we're going to do. We're going to come up with a plan to make Mattheo Riddle the most jealous man on the planet and in the process, find you someone new and much better. All right?"

You groaned. The thought of it sounded exhausted, but even you had to admit that there was a certain appeal to showing up at some party he was at, dressed to the nines, and bringing home another guy all while he watched. You sat up and stared at Ginny, before hesitantly saying, ". . . Go on."

-

"I know darling it's upsetting, darling, but . . . you're just not my kind of girl."

The words rang out in your head as you stood before a large mansion belonging to one of the many wealthy students at your campus. Cars were parked around the enormous driveway and the music from inside was booming so loudly that your could feel your bones vibrate with the beat.

Ginny slipped her arm through yours and flashed you one of her adventurous smiles. "Cheer up - you're going to be the prettiest girl they ever did see," Ginny said mockingly, pinching your cheeks. You barked out a laugh, playfully shoving her arm away.

"You sound like some posh grandma."

"But I'm your posh grandma," Ginny responded with a pout as you two began to climb the stone steps to the completely open front door. (I mean, seriously, who leaves the door to their house open? It's like they're asking to be robbed.)

The music steadily became louder upon approach, making it almost impossible to hear your own voice as you entered. The sleek wooden floors were bathed in a variety of disco lights, an odd contrast in comparison to the lovely home that looked like it belonged to some stuffy old Oxford professor.

"Hello ladies," said a jubilant man leaning against the doorframe leading to the foyer. He looked Ginny up and down before pushing himself off the wall and approaching Ginny. "Lovely to see you again." He sent a wink Ginny's way, which she responded to with a playful roll of her eyes. You finally recognized him - he was a sports major, friends with some of her older brothers. Lee, you remembered his name was. He was a flirt - he had tried with you once, when you were with Mattheo. It didn't end so well for him.

"I'm glad to see your nose is doing better, Jordan," you spoked with a friendly smile.

He pinched it and then looked down at his hand. "Good as new, I suppose, but there's still a scar on my heart," he claimed dramatically, walking wistfully away with the expression of a lovelorn, heartbroken lead in a Victorian drama. You and Ginny giggled and delved further into the lion's den. Numerous people greeted you, but especially Ginny (she had always been the popular one). A paticular boy, Harry, had his eye on her for quite some time. You wouldn't be one to say he was unattractive - he was fairly pretty. He was a Criminal Justice major and a pretty nice guy from your understanding. But you knew Ginny wasn't interested.

When Ginny stopped walking, you did too, as your arms were intertwined. You followed her line of sight and smirked at what - well, who - she was staring at. A wistfully odd girl with pale blonde hair down to her waist and an odd sort of dress adorning her body. People gave her odd looks, whispering to their friends. Why is she here? No one likes her.

You nudged Ginny multiple times to grab her attention once more. "Hey, you can go on without me. I'll be fine."

"What? No! I'm not abandoning you, you're my best friend and -"

"Go," you insisted. "I promise, I'll be fine."

She looked rather torn, glancing between the two of you before stomping her feet and letting out a groan. "I hate you," she whined.

"I hate you too," you responded with a grin. You turned her around, your hands on her shoulders, and pushed in her in the general direction of one eccentric Luna Lovegood. "Now go! Don't worry about me, we've been planning this for days!"

"Good luck!" She shouted at you before she disappeared into the sea of people. A few moments later, after much difficultly trying to see her, you saw her chatting up the girl. All right, my turn, you thought.

You scoured the room - you wouldn't say you were the most introverted person in the world, but you definitely weren't the most outgoing either. You needed to find someone who would really pull at Mattheo's nerves, make those prominent veins pop out of his head. You wanted him to feel the anger and the pain that you felt. You wanted to get him back!

There was no one on the bottom floor that caught your eye, so you climbed the stairs to where the more . . . elegant students were. (Rich, more like.)

They weren't anymore sophisticated than the people downstairs, but there was still that air of refinement that made you feel slightly out of place. You wandered around the many rooms for a bit before you found a kitchen (they had one upstairs and downstairs?) Grabbing a drink, you wandered around some more, making friendly conversations with some of your peers. As you were talking with Neville, a very kind boy from one of your general education courses, someone in paticular caught your eye and everything clicked.

Theodore Nott. He was the son to a rather rich Italian man, the CEO of one of the most well-known designer shoe brands in Europe. His mother died rather unfortunately of illness at a young age. He's been very prominent, especially in recent years. He's been a model for his father's company, he was in the top 5% of your class, and he's - well - he's known as the most handsome boy in your year.

You definitely weren't going to deny that - he was drop-dead gorgeous. His eyes were so . . . alluring. Dark and sexy, a pool of emotions shrouded by mystery. Okay, so maybe you were going far too overboard with your description of him, but for the love of God, was he attractive.

Somehow, he could feel your gaze upon him. He had been sitting on a couch, telling a story to a tight-knit group of friends, Mattheo included you noticed, that you had taken your eyes off of him. You felt embarrassed, pretended to look around the room, and then turned your attention back towards Neville with an encouraging smile that pretended that you had been listening to him rant all along.

"Excuse me," you heard Nott say, standing up from the couch. The champagne flute in his hand was rather empty so you deduced that he was probably going to go fill it. An educated guess, but an incorrect one. He did something you never expected. He approached you.

"Longbottom, I hear Greengrass has a question about a Geo-sci class you two share. She seemed rather distressed by it. I'm sure she'd appreciate your help," Theo told Neville - you glanced at Daphne Greengrass. She looked nowhere near distressed, but Neville perked up in excitement.

"R-really?" He asked nervously, wringing his hands. He gave you a sheepish smile. "Talk to you later, I've got to go help Daphne."

"Yeah, see you later Nev," you replied. Nott looked down at you for a moment before raising his glass.

"It seems we're both in need of a refill. Care to join me?" His expression was nothing more than emotionless, except perhaps the tiniest smirk that remained upon those rose-dusted lips. You shrugged nonchalantly, only just noticing the vacancy in your glass.

"Sure, why not?"

You followed a quite Theodore Nott to the kitchen again, where he poured himself champagne from a very specialized fridge unit filled with distinguished bottles of liquor - merlot and pinot noir and all those fancy alcohols you would have assumed people like him drank. He silently offered you some by tipping the bottle towards you. You offered him your glass, which he poured a fair amount in, not too much, not too little. Just right.

"I'm suprised to see you here."

You arched a brow in response as he took a light sip from the flute resting in a delicate balance between his two fingers. Precariously, a smile dained your face. "And why is that?"

"Your Riddle's ex-girl, aren't you?"

He asked in such a way that seemed as though he didn't care much at all.

The smile from your face disappeared, replaced by something much more bitter. You shrugged, but the action was much more passive-agressive than you had intended it to be. "So what? Does that mean something to you?"

He placed the flute down, the glass clinking against the marble countertop. "Riddle and I have a . . . complicated relationship."

"You mean, your dear old daddies are both relevant, rival shoe designers?" You said it so innocently. Nott smirked at you.

"Yeah, something like that. Listen," he leaned in close to you, leaning his arms against the counter in an attempt to lower himself to your level. He was rather lanky and tall, which you supposed was good for a model, but hard for when you want to actually talk to him. "You and I both want something from him."

"And what's that, Nott?" You asked with mock curiosity, placing your chin in the palm of your hands with a tilt of your head.

"Well, let's just say you didn't come here tonight, dressed like that, in the hopes that he would fuck you," he responded, quite bluntly. Well, you supposed that sort of honesty was an inherited trait. "Everyone knows what went down between you two - he aired out your dirty laundry for all to see. No, you came back here to get revenge."

"Astute," you said with a tone of disdain. Taking a sip of your champagne, you found that it actually had a much more delightful taste than any other alcohol you had. You smacked down the glass on the countertop. "Really, Nott, thanks for that." You began to leave but Theo grabbed you by the arm.

"Wait! Just . . . listen," he said, panting slightly. His brows were scrunchdd together in frustration - he seemed genuinely distressed. The only reason you stayed was because you realized something rather odd.

You turned towards him with furrowed brows. "Is Theodore Nott . . . desperate for something?" You asked with a disbelieving scoff. At the sight of his jaw clenching, his eyes avoiding yours, you let out a shocked laugh.

"Shut it," he muttered, sending you a dark glare.

"Now that's certainly out of character," you said, slugging off his iron grip. "All right, you've got my attention. What is it?"

"My father's been trying to score one over Riddle for years. Rumor is Mattheo's father wants him to marry a good woman, someone that won't tarnish his son's so-called good reputation. And well, you . . . slipped through his fingers like sand. Stealing him from you would make my father more . . . proud."

You crinkled up your nose. "You're not proposing to me, are you? Cause the answer is no."

"No, no. I'm just asking you to date me, at least for a bit."

The sound of it seemed ridiculous, but then you thought - you were both getting something out of it. It was nothing more than a partnership, and a good one at that. Either way, you'd be pulling one over Mattheo and that would be good enough for you.

"How much is 'for a bit'?"

-

"Everyone." Theo had walked back into the room, you snuggled comfortably into his arms. He had tapped a fork against his glass, gathering the attention of his friends. Mattheo's jaw dropped, the hand swung around some girl you had seen around slithering it's way back to his side. "I want to introduce you to my girlfriend."

That's right, you smug snake. I win.

part two coming soon . . . <3

[sukiipjs]

✿ TRUTH OR DARE

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

↳ matt sturniolo x fem reader

↳ words - 1397

↳ summary - a stupid game of truth or dare with your best friend turns into what you’ve always fantasized about…

↳ contains - smut, swearing, fingering, oral, sex, praise, pet names (baby), use of y/n, fluff at end, idk

↳ song - void by the neighborhood

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

°:. *₊ ° . ☆

me and matt are best friends, ever since we met, we just clicked with each other but honestly, also ever since we met… i’ve liked him, wanted him… of course i never told him, or anyone but myself and i don’t act on anything, just think… think of all the things he could do to me, fuck.

currently, i’m over with matt and we just finished up a movie -that i’ve been clenching my thighs the whole time while watching it- and now we’re bored again, we sit on his bed, facing each other and decide to play truth or dare, sure it’s basic but who cares it’s something.

“okay truth or dare?” i ask matt as he answers, “dare” i try to think of a non boring dare to say, and then i remember this one video i saw… perfect chance to just get something to fuel the churning feeling in my stomach, “uhhh i dare you to do five push ups… and say my name in between them.”

he laughs a little, getting off the bed, “…weird but whatever, trying to make me work out or something?” i watch him as he gets on the floor, his hands and feet supporting his body as he starts to push down, “y/n” he says normally before going up and back down again, “y/n” his voice starts to get breathy.

i move one of my legs on top of the other, squeezing my thighs again to feel something… oh god, “y/n” my teeth hold my bottom lip hard as i try to subtly move my body, trying to get a little more friction, he’s so fucking hot, i wish he was moaning my name for real “y/n…” he grunts as he picks himself back up again, “shit- y/n” he shakily says one more time before he lays his body on the floor, breathing to catch his breath.

“okay maybe that was a good dare, could barley get to three,” he laughs a little, picking himself off the floor as he looks down at me, my cheeks flushed red and lip swollen from the bite. “jesus you okay? you look sick,” he bends down a little, letting his thumb graze over my lip, i stare at him, his face so… so close to mine. “no i’m fine, i just pick at my skin,” i try smiling a little, picking up my hand to swipe his away, my face still red with slight embarrassment now.

“whatever,” he rolls his eyes a little, sitting back down on the bed next to me, “okay my turn, truth or dare?” i play with my fingers a little, thinking of which one to choose. “truth” i look at matt as he thinks of a question until he asks, “do you have a crush?” i let out a slightly embarrassing laugh, being so caught off guard by that.

“that’s a stupid question!” i try hiding my face a little, still burning up, why would he choose that out of all thinks to ask. “you only say that cause you do!” he laughs out, “who?” i shake my head a little “i never said i had one!” he sighs a little, eyeing me, “look at you. who is it cmon?”

i shake my head again, hiding my face with my hands, “okay, i might but i am not telling you.” he pushes me playfully, my body rocking as i take my hands off my face and push him back, “rude.” he rolls his eyes again, “fine. but since you wont tell me, i’m telling you a dare and you can’t back out on this.”

i roll my eyes back, “fine, what?” he moves himself a little, sitting more comfortably as he stares into my eyes, a small smile coming to his face, “kiss me.” my smile drops slowly, my eyes widening a little, “what.” he moves his face closer to mine, “you heard me” is this real?

“you think i never notice how you stare at me, clenching those thighs? you think i didn’t know what you were doing when you asked me to basically moan out your name? kiss me. i dare you.” he sets a hand on my thigh, gently squeezing it as his nose almost touches mine now, whaaaat the fuck.

i quickly move my mouth to his not letting this opportunity go, our lips pressing against each other, his hands move to hold my face, not letting me go of the kiss. “fuck- you have no idea how long i’ve been dreaming of you,” he grins, staring at me, his hand still on my cheek until it starts to travel down my body as i move to lean on his headboard.

i keep my eyes on his hand as it goes lower and lower on my body, stopping at the waist of my pants as he looks up at me, “can i?” i nod my head vigorously as he gives me a smile, eyes going back to his hands that start pulling down my sweatpants and underwear off my ankles.

“so beautiful,” his hands make small movements up and down my thighs, he starts to gently move my legs apart as i bend my knees to prop them up. matt scoots closer, his hands keeping my legs apart as he starts to kiss at my inner thighs.

i stare down at matt between my legs, waiting for him to touch me more. he finally lands his lips onto mine, his stubble scratching slightly on my skin. “matt-“ my hands squeeze onto his sheets, my back arching slightly as i moan out his name. his tongue dancing around my clit, his warm breath being felt on my skin, his fingers creeping on my thighs, making sure i don’t close them.

my hand moves to grip onto his hair, pulling him gently onto me more, bucking my hips into him. “fuck!” i moan, my eyes shutting and jaw clenching. one of his hands leave my thigh and i suddenly feel two fingers plunge inside me, starting to pump in and out making me moan out more.

my grip on his hair tightens and i feel the knot in my stomach release over matt’s tongue. “fuck you taste so good baby,” he smiles, lifting his head out my legs, fingers out me and leaning to kiss the lips on my face.

he continues kissing me as he starts to yank off his pants, letting his dick spring free. he slowly pulls away from the kiss, throwing his pants to the side off the bed. he puts his hands on my waist and pulls me down to lay more as he holds his hardness, guiding it over my folds.

he grabs onto and moves one of my legs to rest above his shoulder before pushing inside me, finally. “fuck!” i moan out, feeling myself stretch around him. “oh shit…” he starts to thrust inside me, low groans and sighs coming from his mouth.

“fuck y/n…” i shut my eyes as i moan out, matt starting to lean down to kiss at my neck, leaving dark spots on my skin. “you like that? hearing me moan your name out? this what you wanted?” he smiles as he goes back to sucking at my skin. i wrap my arms around his back, scratching my nails into his fair skin. the vibration of his mumbles tickle my skin as i clench around him, “close-“ i moan out more, matt still marking my neck.

i let myself go, cumming around him as he makes a few last thrusts, leaning back up smiling at the spots he made on me. he pulls out, stroking himself to cum too. i lay back, catching my breath and replaying what just happen, fuck this is perfect.

matt flops over beside me, laying down and quickly wrapping his arms around me, letting his head rest on me. “you okay?” i nod, “i’m perfect” he smiles, “i know you are,” we laugh a little as i start to rest my hand on his back, my finger running circles on his back, “matt?”

“yeah?” he asks back, my stomach churning just from his voice. “i really like you…” i speak softly, kinda nervous even though we just did something way more. “me too,” i feel his smile grow on my skin as he holds me closer, tighter.

☆ °:. *₊ ° . °

taglist : @slutforchriss @mattsleftnipple03 @mattsdinosweater @ccolleenn @mixvchelle @leah-loves-lilies @sturn-wrld @redz0nez9 @cheriematt @freshloveforthefit @nickuniversity @whore4matt @txssvx @teenagetrash00 @matty-bear @venusbabysblog @m0r94n @junnniiieee07

[norrizzandpia]

can we please get oscar with logans best friend and he cant help but pout at how close they are??

Aww but this is so cute

When’s It My Turn? (OP81)

Summary: When Oscar can’t find Y/n and realizes she’s off with Logan, he gets possessive over how much time his girlfriend has to give.

Warnings: literally none, Oscar being a cutey

“Have you seen Y/n?” Oscar asked Lando as he sat around in the garage waiting for the car to be fixed for testing.

Lando shook his head, “Uh, no? Shouldn’t you know where she is? You’re her boyfriend.”

Oscar rolled his eyes, “You’re tellin’ me.”

Lando giggled and squinted up at Oscar, “I think I saw her with Logan. She’s probably in Williams. You know how close they are.”

Oscar huffed and began shuffling off toward the large blue building down the paddock, whispering, “Oh, trust me, I know.”

—

He could hear his girlfriend before he saw her. Her bright laugh reverberated off the walls of Williams racing, warming his heart. She came into view when he entered hospitality and he was not surprised to see her laughing with Logan at all. Truth be told, Oscar knew this would happen from the start. Logan and Y/n had been friends for years before the American decided to grace Oscar’s presence with Y/n. They were close, extremely close, and as much as Oscar loved that his girlfriend had a steady, loyal friend in her orbit, he hated the moments where he was filled with jealously like this.

He sidled up next to her when he got close enough, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her temple as Logan stopped talking.

“What’re you doing here?” The American smiled at the sight of the Australian.

“Looking for my girlfriend.” Oscar mumbled, pulling at Y/n’s body lightly to signal he wanted to leave.

She pat his chest softly as she looked up at him, “You’ve found her, I’d say.”

He blushed before reverting his gaze back to Logan, “Mind if I steal her back?”

Logan shook his head and waved his hand around, “Nah, knock yourself out.”

At that, Oscar was practically dragging Y/n out of the building, hands tight on her waist as he steered her away from cameras and fans. Although, she had an inkling there was another reason for his snug hold on her.

“I’m not going anywhere, Osc.” She laughed, pushing him a bit before he pulled her back.

“Oh, sure.” He gave, sarcasm in every syllable of his statement.

Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He exhaled a loud breath before turning the corner, tugging their bodies into McLaren’s corner of the paddock. “You’re always gone right when I have time to see you.”

Her face scrunched, “No, I’m not.”

He nodded right back at her, “Yes, you are.”

When he closed the door to his driver’s room, she rolled her eyes playfully, “Oscar, no, I am not.”

And when she looked back over at him, his eyes deep with sincerity, she realized he was not playing around, “Yes, you are, Y/n.”

She cocked her head as she stood before him, “Wait, you’re serious?”

He sighed as he shrugged, “Well, I just feel like you’re always with Logan.”

She walked closer to her boyfriend, wrapping her arms around his torso and looking up at him with soft eyes, “I’m sorry, Osc, that you feel that way. I don’t mean to make you feel not prioritized.”

His arms rounded her body, “I know, but I just wish I could keep you all to myself. I love that you have close friends. I just wish they weren’t on this paddock.”

She giggled and moved her hands to push the hair out his face, scratching at his scalp lovingly, “I can understand that feeling. I get that way when I see all these fangirls chasing after you. But, I love you. You’re my favorite person. Does that help? What can I do to help?”

He thought for a moment before stooping his head lower and mumbling, “Can I have a kiss?”

She laughed and nodded, “Sure, baby.”

After a few pecks, Oscar pulled back and, in the same volume as before, asked, “Am I really your favorite person? Like, more than Logan?”

Her eyebrow raised as she turned her head to the sides suspiciously, “Between us?”

He giggled and laughed before she continued, “You are my most favorite person. More favorite than Logan.”

He kissed her cheek and pulled her further into him, “Well, if that’s the case…”

“It is the case, Osc. You’ll always be my favorite.” She smiled, kissing his shoulder softly.

He blushed and squeezed her lightly, “You’re my favorite too.”

[btsgotjams27]

things you didn't say | jjk

summary: with the recent interactions with jungkook, you try to downplay your feelings, but your friends encourage you to acknowledge your past and move forward.

✨ title: things you didn't say | tydk couple ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader ✨ genre/au: angst | ex-best friends to friends/lovers(?) ✨ rating: R/18+ | ✨ word count: 7.3k | ✨ playlist ✨ warnings: minor language, lana threatens oc with a fork, drinking, game of truth or dare, confessions, kissing ✨ a/n: hii--i'm sorry i've been a bit MIA in regards to writing. it's been such a struggle to get anything written. i've been thinking a lot about these two and i hope this last part gives us all some kind of resolution. enjoy. (and there's a small nod to something that'll happen in a different jk wip i'm working on hehe). and if you haven't read part one or two, please do so before reading this part.

✨ read part one | read part two ✨

The clock is nearly midnight, and you’re not ready for the magic to disappear.

All night, you’ve kept your heart at bay, questioning every move and word being spoken. Only you can see it, but a dark cloud is looming over you. Doubts linger like a predator waiting to pounce and take its prey. You want to avoid getting it wrong or being let down.

And your heart is the ultimate betrayer, but it doesn’t lie.

You’re caught up in sentimental memories from the past. His nose scrunches and boisterous cackles are reminiscent of the boy you remember. Hanging out and reliving past adventures felt like no time had passed, yet life updates from then to now made him feel like a stranger.

Giggles and claps, along with snorts and dribbles of wine, glide down the side of your mouth. The third wine bottle is on its way to being destroyed by the pair of you.

He’s careful to avoid the subject of Josie, for which you are grateful. If you could be honest, you would ask him why he was still with her and what he saw in her. But it’s not your place, nor are you in the position to pry.

Your eyes fall on the plants sitting on the corner shelf in the dining area—an array of pothos, snake, and rubber plants. They’re your typical plants, but it’s the planters that they’re sitting in that make you smile. The planters have stubby arms and legs with smiley faces.

Jungkook follows your gaze. “What are we looking at?”

You point to the planters. “Those little guys. They’re cute.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook says. “I made them.”

“The planters or the plants?”

He swirls his wine glass, letting out a small laugh. “The planters.”

“You made those planters?” You stand, walking over to them. 

“When I get bored, I try new creative outlets and ceramics was one of them,” he says, taking a sip of wine.

“Wow, you have a knack for things like that, huh?” You pick up a planter, inspecting it before setting it down. “You could open up your own Etsy shop or something. People would buy these in a heartbeat.”

“Eh, I suppose. I just like doing things with my hands. It makes me feel useful.” Jungkook shrugs. He watches your every move as you continue eyeing the different ceramic pieces he’s made: vases, candleholders, etc. “Do you think people would buy the things I make?”

You lift a coiled vase, turning to him. “Are you kidding me? People would eat this shit up. Once your pieces sell like hotcakes on Etsy, Urban Outfitters will slide in your DMs.” You’re not surprised Jungkook easily excelled at something like ceramics. He’s always been talented at anything he picks up.

“And you were good at anything creative when we were in school—art class, wood shop. I would’ve failed wood shop if you didn’t help me finish my project.”

“Yeah, your birdhouse was fucking terrible.”

You scoff, walking toward him, playfully shoving his shoulder. “It wasn’t that bad.”

He deadpans. “Even birds would avoid your birdhouse.”

“Shut up! I tried my hardest.”

“Didn’t try hard enough,” he teases, his eyes crinkling at the corners with a grin on his face.

The pair of you continue to bicker about nothing, but the constant buzzes of notifications from his phone are hard to ignore. You’d catch Jungkook peering, tapping his fingers, debating if he should reply.

You sip from the bottle of dessert wine, you find it sweet and refreshing on your lips. “If you need to get that, then don’t let me stop you.” 

Jungkook lifts his phone. “Nah—it’s nothing,” he protests before his phone vibrates in his hand. He glances at the illuminated screen and he finally picks it up. “Sorry, let me answer this. I’ll be right back.”

He hurries out of the kitchen and into the darkened living room. You can only hear Jungkook’s stern, hushed voice, but you can’t make anything out. His change in demeanor hints at one person, and it’s Josie. Which meant it was your cue to leave. You’ve overstayed your welcome.

You raise your wine glass, gulping the golden honey peach Moscato. Thank goodness they’re easy to guzzle. A drop runs down the side of your mouth, and you swipe it away as Jungkook walks back in.

“I’m so sorry about that.”

“Hmm? Oh—don’t worry about it. I, um, I’ve probably overstayed my welcome, so I should get going.”

“What? No, stay. We have to finish our Moscato.”

A nervous chuckle leaves your lips as you contemplate his proposition. There’s a tug in your heart, wanting to stay into the early hours of the morning, but there’s your brain telling you to take it slow and go home.

“I wish I could stay, but I should head home. I have a load of laundry to fold and sadly, it won’t fold itself.” You stand up from the bar chair, feeling a bit wobbly on your feet. Jungkook rushes to your side, gripping your waist, but you catch yourself by holding onto the counter.

“You can’t hold your liquor?” He asks with a wide grin, pulling you upright.

Clearing your throat and flattening down your jeans, you spit out, “Ha-ha. I can hold my liquor just fine. I merely tripped.”

Jungkook chuckles. “You’re a terrible liar—see, I still remember that.”

You gasp sharply, with a hand over your chest. “I’m surprised that big ‘ol head of yours can remember anything. I thought it was only filled with games and girls.” Sticking out your tongue, you conk him on the head with your knuckles.

“Ow.” He rubs the spot as if you had knocked him with a bat.

Taking out your phone from your pocket, you pull up Uber.

“Let me take you home, at least.”

You give him a look, slowly blinking your eyes at the devilishly handsome friend. Could you even call him a friend again? Maybe it was too early for that.

“Did you forget that we both had too much to drink tonight? So, you shouldn’t be driving me. It’s fine, Kook. I’ll get an Uber.”

Jungkook sighs, knowing he can’t convince you otherwise. “Fine. I’ll wait with you outside until it gets here.”

“Well, it’s not like I can stop you.”

The pair of you are sitting on his front steps, watching cars drive by and cats strolling through the neighborhood. His place is in a newer part of town, one that was built while you were away. It’s familiar and odd, just like you and Jungkook. As much as you want to forget the past and move on, there’s a part of you holding onto what the two of you had. Would you ever become best friends again? Would you even consider letting him be a part of your life? Those were questions for another time, but it felt like you had your best friend back, even if it was just for tonight.

As the alcohol in your system dwindles, the brain fog becomes clearer, along with your hearing. A nudge from Jungkook makes you come back to reality. “Hmm?”

“I asked, ‘Do you still go stargazing’?” He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I do, but the spot I went to during college isn’t as good as the one we used to go to.”

Jungkook hums, avoiding your gaze as he picks up a small pebble from the ground. “We should go there sometime,” he mumbles under his breath. He continues toying with the pebble before throwing it into the bushes.

You’re trying to suppress a smile and swat away the butterflies growing in your stomach. It’s dumb to think things could go back to the way they were. It’s unrealistic and you don’t want to get hurt again.

Turning toward him, you want to set the record straight. “Let’s um, take this whole friendship thing slow, Kook. Dinner was great. It was nice talking to you again, but you do understand where I’m coming from, right?”

He nibbles on his bottom lip and nods. “I’ll follow your lead.”

You check your phone again. The Uber is two minutes away. As you click it off, you turn and see Jungkook staring. Something is brewing behind those starry eyes. With a raised brow, you ask, “What?”

“Can I call or text you sometime?”

“Just don’t, uh, go texting me all day and night. Your girlfriend might get jealous. Might even put a bounty on my head,” you tease, reaching to pull his black CK cap over his face.

He takes his cap off, carding his hand through his hair before placing it back on his head. As you’re immersed in your phone and looking up at the street for your Uber, Jungkook silently observes you like has for the past few years. Some might say it’s a red flag, but how else was he supposed to know if you were happy? That’s all he’s ever wanted—for you to be happy, loved, and have all your dreams come true, even though he wasn’t there to cheer you on. For seven years, he has been tormented by what he did, and he didn't want to jeopardize any possibility of any kind of relationship with you. It doesn’t even have to be like before, just as long as the two of you are on speaking terms. He could live with that.

A dark sedan pulls up alongside the pair of you. You grab the door handle, pause for a moment, then turn back to Jungkook. “We’ll talk soon?” He raises both eyebrows and hums softly, giving a thin smile. “Bye, Kook.”

Two weeks passed, and there was no text or call from Jungkook. Plenty of thoughts ran through your mind, the number one being Josie had found out about your little dinner and locked him in a basement, cutting off all contact with the outside world—especially if it was with you.

But you’re a big girl. Why should you be waiting around to hear from him, anyway?

If there’s one thing you hate about adulting, it’s cooking. You missed the days when you were in your angsty teen phase, headphones in, and hating the world, then your parents would yell ‘Dinner’s ready’. And as much as you missed home-cooked meals, you loved that your parents were off gallivanting around the world, living their retirement dreams. One day that’ll be you, living off your retirement and eating out 24/7, but for now, there’s a decision to be made about what will go in your salad for the week.

Cucumbers.

Strolling in the veggie section, your eyes scan for the green vegetables before landing on them. You stood debating on which one to get. Why are there so many varieties? But according to Google, Persian cucumbers go great in salads.

As you grabbed a second cucumber, you looked up to see the man who betrayed your trust. And no—it wasn’t Jungkook. It was his roommate, Jimin, aka ‘the trickster’.

With a stomp in your step and a cucumber in your hand, you march over to him, striking him on the shoulder with it.

“Ow!” Jimin exclaims, rubbing his shoulder as he turns around. His brows furrowed, lips in a full pout when he finds you standing behind him. “What the hell?” He looks to see the weapon in your hand. “Did you just hit me with a cucumber?” You hum. “Why’d you do that?”

Tossing the cucumber in your basket and crossing your arms, you huff out, “Because you deserved it!”

“Deserve what?”

You roll your eyes at the not-so-innocent man. Was he trying to play Cupid or something with you and Jungkook?…Because his stupid plan kind of worked. You truly had a great time at dinner, and it was nostalgic, just like how things used to be.

“Mmhm. Count your days, Park,” you quip, turning around to head in the other direction. Jimin’s calling after you to wait for him, but you keep on walking.

As he catches up, standing beside you, he nudges your arm. “Oh, come on. I was just trying to help a friend out,” he finally admits.

“Well, don’t.”

Jimin strides in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. “Hey—” You attempt to go around him, but he’s unrelenting. “Just hear me out, okay?” You sigh, waving for him to continue. “I’m sorry I ambushed you, but it was the only way you’d hang out with Jungkook. I know the two of you had shit go down in the past, and I just wanted to help you both move on to being friends again.”

“Why does it matter to you?”

“Because,” he pauses and straightens his back with his chin up. “I like you and I like Jungkook, and who wouldn’t want to see their friends be happy, hmm?”

Jungkook’s laughter echoed in your mind. You knew it was dumb to miss something as simple as a laugh, but you had heard it for so many years, and then it stopped for a long time. It felt nice to have a piece of an old friend back.

Jimin gives you a look and a grin sweeps across his face. There’s a satisfaction behind that grin and you wish you could wipe off.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Park Jimin,” you say, stepping off to the side as a customer rolls by with their cart through the two of you.

He laughs, showing off his pearly whites. “I should check out and head off—don’t want you to start getting any ideas and start a food fight here in the grocery store.”

“Yeah, you should run.” You pretend to grab the cucumber and watch him run off to self-checkout.

A buzz from your back pocket alerts you of a notification and, to your surprise, it’s a text from Jungkook. It looks like he hadn’t forgotten about you.

Jungkook 1:34 PM Hey. I’m throwing a small dinner for Jimin’s birthday on Friday at 7 pm. Say you’ll come.

You 1:35 PM Define small.

Incoming Call Jungkook

“If I come and it’s a big party like last time, then count me out.”

“Hello to you, too.”

“Right—hey. No, but seriously. I’m not a big crowd kinda gal.”

“Including me and you, there would only be six people. That’s not a lot, right?”

It’s not, but you’ll have to save your social battery for the dinner party.

“No, yeah, that’s fine.”

“And don’t worry, you know everyone—Lana’s going too.”

The big question is: will Josie be there?

A beat passes and you realize you’re standing in the middle of an aisle, probably blocking someone’s way.

Jungkook’s voice comes through your phone, calling your name a few times. “Hello? Hey. Are you still there?”

You turn to make sure no one’s around. “Yeah, sorry. I’m still here. Is, um, ‘who-shall-not-be-named’ coming?” You ask, nibbling on the inside of your cheek. It’s a name for fuck’s sake, but you can’t bring yourself to say it.

He chuckles at your subtle attempt to avoid the Josie topic. “I can promise you that she’s not coming. Is that why you’re hesitant to say yes?”

“Pfft–what! No!” you blurt out, lying through your teeth. Truth be told—yeah, it is. You don’t want a repeat of Jimin’s party.

You clear your throat, “Anyway, yeah, I’ll come. Count me in.”

“Cool! See you on Friday.”

“Can I bring anything?”

“Nope–just yourself. Oh, and it’s a surprise, so don’t say anything to Jimin.”

“‘Kay…sounds good. I’ll see you Friday.”

“Can’t wait to see you,” he said with enthusiasm before hanging up.

As you’re mixing the salad, you’re staring absent-mindedly at the abstract painting that’s framed on your wall because those five words rang in your ears on the drive home.

You mumbled those words in different tones, trying to make sense of the innocent expression. It’s completely normal for Jungkook to be excited. He hasn’t seen/hung out/talked to you in almost seven years. Yeah, that’s it—at least it’s what you’re telling yourself.

Lana waves her hand in your face. “Um, hello! I don’t think you can mix the salad anymore!”

Looking down, a few springs of leaves have been tossed out of the bowl and onto the counter. Oops. You pick them up, throwing them in the garbage bin. “Sorry—I was distracted.”

“Clearly.”

As you push the bowl aside, your focus is on the unopened bottle of wine.

“Are you going to tell me what’s distracting you, or should I wait until the wine settles in?”

“You can wait until the wine settles in. It’ll give me time to forget about it.”

Lana picks up a fork, threatening you with it. “I swear to god if you don’t tell me—”

“Okay, okay. The other day, Jungkook called to invite me to Jimin’s dinner party.” Lana narrows her eyes and hums, intently listening. “At the end of our conversation, he said, ‘Can’t wait to see you’, and he seemed excited.”

She nods her head, waiting for the rest of the story, but you don’t say anything else. “That’s it? God–that’s so boring. I thought you guys kissed or something.”

“Lana!” you cry out, almost knocking over the wine bottle.

“What? I thought he would’ve made his move by now.”

You roll your eyes. “There’s no move to make. He’s with Josie, remember?”

“Josie Schmosie—she’s old news, but you,” she points and grins, “You’re back and here to fuck things up,” she claps with a gleeful smile.

“Oh, will you stop it? I’m not back to do anything—and what the hell, Lana? You’re not helping!”

Lana chortles, covering her mouth. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m sure what Jungkook said to you is just a simple expression of how much he can’t wait to see you and get you underneath his sheets.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “I don’t even know why I bothered you with this.”

“Okay, I’ll stop. I promise—just kidding. Can I ask one more thing?” You wave your hand for her to continue. “You’re telling me you don’t even want to revel in the idea of the two of you being something more than just friends?”

The iciness of the tiled counter becomes apparent underneath your fingers, and you’re faced with a question you never wanted to answer—aloud, at least. Considering that he’s tried breaking up with Josie multiple times, but somehow is still with her, you’re unsure what will push Jungkook to cut off the head of the snake.

You hate that Jeon Jungkook has been—scratch that—is your Roman empire. He’s the one thing you’ve come back to even when you didn’t want to. It’s the same three questions you’ve had: Is he okay, is he happy, does he miss you too?

And if you’re completely honest, the answer is yes. Of course, you’ve reveled in the idea of you and him.

“I don’t know, Lana. I mean yes—the thought has crossed my mind. I’ve liked him since senior year, but it takes two to tango, and Jungkook can’t do that right now. Besides, I won’t wait around for him to come to his senses.”

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me, that’s the expression, isn’t it?

You can’t imagine going through another heartbreak from the same boy.

Things happen in life that don’t make sense.

Especially for the price of a pair of earrings, you’re currently looking to purchase as Jimin’s birthday present. The sales associate senses your hesitation and brings out a similar pair that’s on sale.

“Ah—that’s more like it. I’ll take those and do you still provide gift wrapping?” you ask, looking at the sign you saw on the way in.

“Yes, we do. Let me go into the back and wrap it up for you.”

The associate disappears through the back door, probably to talk shit about you to their co-workers, but hey–a girl has to save money where she can. It’s a fragile economy.

You roam, looking through the display cases of bracelets, rings, and watches. A gold Casio watch catches your eye–it looks like one Jungkook used to wear. He treasured the vintage-looking watch because it was his father’s. Come to think of it, you haven’t seen him with it when you saw him. Maybe he lost it or replaced it with something else.

Either way, you continue eyeing pieces of jewelry you’ll never purchase for yourself, and it’s when you look up to catch a glimpse of a girl you recognize. But it’s the man marking her neck that isn’t your ex-best friend. You’ve locked eyes with which she-who-must-not-be-named, and maybe it’s not too late to pretend you didn’t see her.

The sales associate returns the wrapped gift along with your credit card. You quickly thank her, looping your arm through the gift bag. Your eyes scan everything in view to see if the coast is clear. There’s no sign of your enemy, so you dart out of the store only to find Josie and this mystery man looking at the window display at the neighboring boutique.

Fuck, just go on your way and don’t engage. Don’t engage! You say to yourself, swiftly walking past them.

You’re busy berating yourself to hear someone calling your name. Stopping in your tracks, you sigh, waiting for Josie to catch up.

“Hey!” Josie chirps like the two of you are friendly.

“Hi…” you say glumly, with furrowed eyebrows. She’s never been nice to you before, so why should you start now?

“Can you not tell Jungkook what you saw?”

You tut, blinking your eyes at her like you owe her a favor. “Look Josie—what you do doesn’t concern me, okay?” you say, walking past her. It’s been a few weeks since you last saw her and she’s cheating on Jungkook with some guy? God, if only you could smack him upside the head right now—Josie too!

You’re a few steps ahead before you stop in your tracks and turn, walking back to her. You huff, “Tell me one thing. If you’re off with some guy behind Jungkook’s back. Why are you still stringing him along, then?”

Josie looks at you, ready to answer, but you raise your hand, stopping her. “Forget I asked. It’s none of my business.”

As you walk off again, there’s a revolting feeling in the pit of your stomach having to keep this to yourself. Jungkook deserves to know the kind of person Josie is, but it’s not your place to say anything. You’re not his best friend anymore. Honestly, you’re unsure what the two of you are and sometimes, there are some things you just shouldn’t say.

Whenever you think about seeing Josie and that mystery man, it makes you want to gag, and throw something at the wall, but mainly at her. Who knows how long she’s been cheating on Jungkook? You tossed and turned in bed, debating whether you should say something to him.

The dinner party is tonight, and if you happen to be alone with him and the Josie topic comes about, then you’ll mention it.

Another thought crosses your mind, what if he thinks you’re making this up because you’re jealous of Josie? Ah, fuck. Either way, you’ll turn out to be the bad guy, right? You’ll either break his heart or you’ll sound like a jealous person.

You don’t want to ruin whatever the two of you have, because you’ve missed the comfort of an old friend and you don’t want to lose it again.

Even though you know the code, you don’t press the four digits. Instead, you knock, waiting for someone to open the door.

“Hey!” Jungkook says, eyes dropping to your hands. “I said you didn’t have to bring anything.” He takes a step back, letting you through, and grabbing the box of Soju.

“I know, but Lana always says, ‘Don’t go anywhere empty-handed’,” you say, flashing a small smile.

“Ah, well, the Soju will go great with tonight’s menu.”

The aroma from Jungkook’s cooking is immaculate. You can almost taste the different dishes he’s prepared.

“Oh my god, it smells so good–like how your mom used to make food for us all the time.” You walk over to the dinner table, displayed with grilled meat, japchae, tteokbokki, buddaejjigae, and a plethora of banchan. “How is your mom? I miss her and her cooking.”

Jungkook chuckles softly. “She’s doing great. Her cooking, though? Not so much. It’s become too salty for my taste—Don’t tell her I told you that.”

You rub your hands together. “Oh, you bet that’s the first thing I’ll say after giving her a hug.”

“Don’t! She’ll disown me. She already hates that I’m a better cook than her,” Jungkook says, opening the box of Soju.

“You should become a private chef or something.”

He opens the refrigerator door, placing the Soju to chill. “Nah—I’ll just cook at home. I’m still learning, testing the waters, y’know?”

“I hate you.”

His eyes perk up with concern. “What did I do this time?”

“You’re good at everything you do—it’s unfair to the rest of us peasants.”

Jungkook relaxes at your answer, thinking he did something wrong again.

Placing the last Soju bottle in the fridge, he turns back, scanning you from head to toe. You’re dressed in an oversized Linkin Park band tee and jeans. He recognizes the shirt, the one you wore religiously during your emo teenage years.

“What? Is there something on my face?” you ask, touching your cheeks.

He shakes his head no and clears his throat. “I, um, wanted to talk to you...about something.”

“Oh?” Your eyes and ears perk up, but you’re interrupted by a commotion coming from the front door.

“The birthday boy is coming! Hide!” Lana says in a hushed tone. She rushes over to you, crouching down behind the counter, pulling you down with her. You chuckle, shaking your head.

With the front door open, Jungkook’s other roommate, Namjoon, walks in first–hand in hand with his girlfriend, and then following is the birthday boy.

Lana peers above the chairs to see if they’ve come in. “Surprise!” She cries out. Everyone’s ears must be ringing at this point.

Jimin gives a half-smile along with a chuckle. “Lana, you ran past us in the driveway.”

Her mouth turns into a cheesy smile. “You caught me. Sorry, I kind of ruined the surprise.”

“Happy birthday Jimin,” you say, walking over to him, arms out for a hug.

“I’m glad to see you and Kook have made up,” Jimin utters. “He needs someone like you around.” He pulls back, squeezing your arms before letting you go.

Namjoon and his girlfriend, Nora, greet you and Jungkook and then take a seat at the dinner table.

You look at Jungkook. “We’ll talk later?”

He hums in agreement. “Yeah, later.”

You’ve missed this—hanging out with old friends. It’s fun to be around people who you’ve known for a long time. You remember Namjoon being a senior when you were a freshman and the stories you’d hear about him—prom king, valedictorian; he did it all when he was in school. And Nora was the perfect woman for him. They’re both working toward their doctorate in philosophy. Their IQs were the equivalent of yours, Lana, Jimin, and Jungkook’s combined.

“Wow, I feel unqualified to be sitting at this table,” you say jokingly. Being an HR specialist was never the plan, but you’ve come to enjoy your job because you like to think you’re a good judge of character when it comes to hiring.

“Let’s stop talking about work, and have some fun! After all, it is Jimin’s birthday. How about a game of Truth or Dare?” Nora asks, looking around the dining table to get some confirmation. “I need verbal consent, please.”

Everyone glances at each other, awaiting answers. There are various responses, and everyone agrees to play.

Nora claps with a joyful squeal. “Okay, Jimin gets to ask first since it’s his birthday. Choose your victim, and anything’s fair game!”

There’s a groan from you and Jungkook. You have a feeling this night will become interesting.

Jimin rubs his hands together and then points to each person. “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe…” He continues the rhyme, and you know he’s itching to choose you or Jungkook, and his finger lands on Jungkook.

“Oh-ho-ho. Please pick dare, or I’ll make you answer something you don’t want to,” he says, playfully sticking out his tongue.

Jungkook narrows his eyes at his devilish roommate. “Don’t test me, Park. I can make your life a living hell, too.”

“Ah yes, I’d like to see you try.”

Your heart’s racing, and your hands are sweaty while gripping the chair’s armrest. Jimin has always been sneaky, and you’re sure he’ll make Jungkook kiss you.

Everyone’s waiting for Jungkook’s answer. He groans before replying, “Fine. Dare.”

Both Lana and Nora let out muffled squeals while you’re holding your breath.

“I dare you…to say something dirty to ____.” Jimin grins from ear to ear, staring at you.

You knew Jimin would be unrelenting when it came to you and Jungkook.

Turning to Jungkook, you say, “If you’re uncomfortable, don’t do it. It’s just a dumb game.”

“Hey! Nora said anything’s fair game and my dare is completely harmless. I could’ve asked you to do something else, but I didn’t,” Jimin refutes.

“It’s fine,” Jungkook says with a scowl. Turning to you, he leans over. His breath is warm against your ear, goosebumps are trickling on your skin, and your hair is standing on its end. He whispers, “You look so pretty—wish I could do this forever.”

“Hey, hey, hey! You’re supposed to say it aloud for everyone to hear,” Jimin protests.

You visibly gulp, returning to a straightened position in your chair. The ten words he said shouldn’t affect you, but it does. The room has grown warmer and you’re practically melting like butter in a hot pan. It’s just a silly game and you’re so over Jimin and his antics.

“Your dare was ‘to say something dirty to ___’. You didn’t specify if it was a whisper or if I had to shout it from the rooftop,” Jungkook chirps, quickly glancing in your direction to make sure you’re okay.

Jimin glares at Jungkook with a blaze of a thousand suns. “It’s implied that you say it out loud so everyone can hear.”

Lana elbows Jungkook. “What did you say? How dirty was it? Like, give us a rating, PG-13, R, NC-17?” He doesn’t answer her, but she looks at you, pointing her fingers to her eyes and then back to you, indicating that you’ll tell her later.

“I’ll let it go this time, but from now on, no whispering, and everyone has to hear what everyone says,” Jimin demands, awaiting confirmation from the group. “Okay, Jungkook, it’s your turn.”

He turns to Lana and bluntly asks, “Would you ever sleep with Jimin?” Jungkook peers at Jimin because he knows that Jimin’s had a crush on Lana since high school.

Lana’s mouth twists before answering, “Yeah, I guess.”

Jimin scoffs, offended by her response. “You guess? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know if you’re any good in bed!”

“And I don’t know if you’re any good in bed!” he chirps back.

“Please—I’ll be the best sex you’ll ever have,” she jeers, crossing her arms.

Jimin stands. “Oh yeah? Prove it.” He retorts, raising his chin in defense.

Everyone ‘oohs’, staring at the two like they’re in a stand-off.

“Prove it! Prove it!” Nora urges, pounding her fists on the table.

Namjoon fakes a laugh, muffling his girlfriend’s pounding. “I’m sorry. She’s had too much to drink. Don’t listen to her.”

Jimin leans forward, hands on the table. “Yeah…prove it.” He raises an eyebrow, wondering if Lana will back down or take on the challenge.

“Right now?” She tilts her head, scanning him from head to toe.

He shrugs. “Mm, what a shame. I guess you’ll never be able to prove it,” he says with a tut.

The chair legs squeak when Lana pushes herself to stand. “When’s the last time you got tested?”

“A month ago,” Jimin quickly replies like no one else is in the room. “I’m clean. You?”

“I’m clean too. You got condoms?”

You sink in your chair, wiping your face, watching these two go off on each other. Honestly, you can’t believe you’re witnessing this.

“Got a whole box ready for you.”

Lana marches over to Jimin, grabbing his hand. “Well, come on birthday boy.”

Your mouth drops, watching the two-run upstairs. “They’re not gonna fuck, are they?” Lana has been in a dry spell for the last year, so you don’t blame her for wanting to get laid.

“Yeah, I think they are,” Jungkook answers. “Yah—” he turns to yell toward Jimin’s room. “Keep it down, will ya?”

The rest of you continue the game, but they’re just questions to get to know each other.

“Jungkook, if there’s one thing you could take back. What would it be?”

He looks in your direction, then plays with his Soju glass, spinning it a few times. You’re biting the inside of your cheek, eyes bouncing from him and then to Nora and Namjoon.

“Um, I’d go back to the day I broke ___’s heart—take everything back.”

The couple looks at each other, forcing a fake laugh. “Well, I can sense the tension between our friends here,” Nora says. “Joonie, baby, didn’t you wanna show me that thing in your room?”

Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow. “What thing?”

Nora stands, tugging his hand, and drags him down the hallway to his room. You can hear the two bickering before the door closes.

You’re silent. Unsure of what to say. You want to move forward, but the past keeps haunting you. Will it always be like this with you and Jungkook? And certainly, there are things you didn’t say that you should say now, but what’s the point?

“We should clean up,” you say, picking up a few plates to stack them. Jungkook follows your lead, helps clear the table, and walks over to set them in the sink.

Turning on the faucet, you rinse off the plates. Jungkook leans back against the kitchen island, eyes scanning over you.

“I meant what I said earlier.”

You close your eyes, then breathe out a sigh. Looking at the boy who used to be your best friend. His eyes hold the galaxy and you get easily lost in them. You’re an explorer longing to find the next big discovery. It’s right in front of you, but at a moment’s notice, you might lose him like you did before.

“Kook…we were kids back then, and you can’t change the past.” You continue to wash the dishes, but it’s hard to focus when he’s near.

Jungkook reaches to turn off the water, gently squeezing your arm to look at him. “Yeah, I know, but I can try to fix it now, right?”

Your hands grip onto the sink, your eyes focused on the water dripping from the spout. You fixate on Jungkook’s words. How can he reconcile a friendship he tore apart? And for what? A girl?

He calls your name, breaking your focus. “Talk to me.”

There’s a tightness in your chest as you turn to him. “Fix it? I don’t want you to fix it.”

“O-kay…then tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

If it was only that easy.

You close the distance between you, looking at him. “What do I want?” He hums. “I want you to be broken. Wrecked—just like how I was. It took me years to get over you—our friendship. I hate it, Jungkook.”

“I hate what I did to you—”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “You don’t understand, Kook.” Your heart is aching—like someone reached in, squeezing it as hard as they can. 

“Then explain.”

Your eyes meet his. “You. Own. Me,” you say, your index finger pressing into his chest with each word. “These last few weeks have been excruciating. I don’t know who I am when I’m around you. No matter how hard I try to convince myself that I’ve moved on. You’ll always be the one thing that I’ll never be over.”

Your heart is pounding, and every inch of your body is burning to the touch. You didn’t think anyone could ever make you this livid. But as much as you want to hate him, moving back home simply confirms everything you’ve been attempting to hide for the past seven years—you love him.

“I was hurt, too. You don’t think I was?” Jungkook says softly, lifting your chin so you can meet his gaze. “I was devastated, knowing how much I hurt you. I couldn’t eat or sleep for days. Seeing and talking to you every day and then it just stopped. My world was falling apart, and I didn’t know how to fix it. I watched you go off to live your life while I was stuck here with you, haunting me everywhere I went. Philz, the damn grocery store, the park–you were there. There was no escaping you. So yeah, I was wrecked and broken, just like you.”

The narrative you created in your head of Jungkook and Josie was something out of a fairytale. Boy meets girl, they fall in love and live happily ever after. But according to Jungkook, it was hardly the case. You haunted him as much as he haunted you throughout the years.

Chuckling to yourself, you think about how this could've been avoided if one of you had just spoken up. Stepping back from him, you take a breath to calm your nerves. You lean back against the sink, arms folded. “Can I ask you something?”

Jungkook’s eyes flick to you and his body mirrors yours. “I’m an open book, ___.”

“Why did you give up so easily? Why didn’t you fight for me? Our friendship?”

A beat passes, and he doesn’t respond. It’s foolish to think he’d have an answer for you.

Your lips thin, and you breathe out a sigh of frustration. “It’s fine, Kook. Don’t answer. We’ll just go back to the way things were. Have a good life.” You walk off toward the living room and he follows.

“You don’t get to walk away,” he says, shutting the front door when you try to open it.

“Yeah? Watch me!” You turn back to the door, attempting to open it, but Jungkook’s hand is holding it shut.

He grips your arm. “I was scared, okay? I was young and stupid, and scared.”

You turn around and push him back. “Scared? You’re still scared! That’s why you can’t even break up with Josie! She’s cheating on you, by the way! I saw her with some guy glued to her neck. I don’t understand why you can’t just let her go.”

“I’m not scared of breaking up with Josie. I just got comfortable with her being around and didn’t think I could do any better.” Jungkook steps back and reclines on the couch’s armrest.

“You don’t think you can do better than Josie? You’re Jeon Jungkook, of course, you can.”

He forces a laugh, shaking his head no. “I barely graduated high school, practically failed my college classes. I don’t have a steady job and I have no idea what I’m passionate about. So yeah, I didn’t think I could do any better than Josie, until…”

“Until…?”

“Until I saw you at the party. I know it sounds cheesy, but when I saw you standing in the living room. It was like a sign from the universe, waking me up from this auto-pilot life I was living in. Seeing you again really shook me up.”

You could say the same thing about seeing Jungkook again. The universe loved to toy with the two of you, didn’t it?

“And then after our dinner two weeks ago, I broke up with Josie–like officially. I gave all her stuff back. I’m not answering calls or anything. So, I guess when you saw her, she must’ve moved on to the next guy–that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, me breaking up with her.”

There was a sense of relief when he said that because you were ready to fight Josie.

“Oh,” you say softly, taking a step toward him. “I guess I was wrong about you—being scared, I mean.”

Jungkook’s toying with his necklace, circling it around his neck. “I’m still scared.” He steps toward you, waiting for you to look at him. “I’m scared I’m gonna mess this up,” he says.

“How are you going to mess this up? We’re just friends.”

“That’s the thing. I don’t want to be ‘just friends’.”

Your gaze flicks to him and then drops to his lips and back up again. You know what he’s alluding to, but you need to hear those words leave his lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He knows you’re teasing him. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

“Yes.”

“Because I love you, okay? I’m in love with you. Have always been in love with you, and I’m scared to lose you again.”

Your eyes are glossy, fighting back tears. You’ve longed to hear those words from Jungkook, and like him, you’re afraid of an unknown future, but right now, all that matters is him.

As a tear falls down your cheek, you’re ready to let love in. Let him in. Discover new things. Rediscover old things. You’re ready to be vulnerable, move forward from the past, and let go of the heartache and pain.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe.

Jungkook steps toward you, cupping your face. “No, no, no. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You shake your head. “No, I do. I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder for you–for our friendship. It’s my fault too.”

His thumbs caress your cheeks. “Hey, can we agree to let the past be in the past and just focus on us now, in the present?”

Your hands cover his, and you nod, flashing a soft smile. “Mhm. I’d like that.”

Jungkook wipes your tear-stained cheeks. “Now, can I do something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time?”

“What’s that?”

His lips finally touch yours. It’s not fervent or haste. It’s soft, uncertain. But you kiss him back. You’re savoring each point of contact. His lips overlapping yours, capturing a hint of your cherry Chapstick. Your eyes are half-lidded and you pull back for air, but he leans in, bringing you back in for more. His nose bumps into yours as he turns his head, deepening the kiss. Your body presses against his, your fists balled up, tugging on his white t-shirt. There’s a glow of excitement and nervousness rushing throughout your body when one of his hands grips your waist and the other is on the small of your back, pushing you further into him.

A low whine leaves his lips when you withdraw. He reaches for another kiss, but you stop him.

“Kook—” you whisper as his forehead touches yours.

“I don’t want to stop kissing you,” he says, kissing your cheek and tracing your jawline. “Don’t think I can ever stop.”

You chuckle. “I don’t want to stop kissing you, either. Maybe we should take this to the bedroom?”

While lying in bed next to Jungkook, you simply enjoy each other’s presence. Your fingers trace stars across his chest and you love how he breathes–his chest rising and falling ever so softly. The sound of his voice vibrates through your fingers and into your body. With one arm wrapped around you and the other resting behind his head, Jungkook tells you about the dreams he had but never dared to pursue–you being one of them.

And as the clock strikes midnight, the magic of you and him didn’t dissipate. It’s here. It’s real.

[jaeyunluvr]

just for you (p.js)

"i wanna get married." you say as you drown in the warmth of your boyfriend's embrace. the tv played soft noises in the background, as it's light illuminated his face, changing hues from time to time.

jay perks up at your statement.

"to whom?"

you laugh at his question. "who else? to my oh so loving boyfriend." you say as you eye him dreamily.

it was the absolute truth and you swore it came from the bottom of your heart. everything about jay was so dear to you. the way he looked at you, the way he held your hand oh so gently, the way he cooked your meals for you, pouring all his love into it. the way he spoke to you, the way he held you against his chest like you were everything to him. the way he would surprise you with little gifts at random times. "it's the little things that count, sweetheart." he would say.

the thought of spending your whole lifetime with such a perfect man by your side, giving you all the love in the world. it made you feel dizzy with happiness. there was nothing you wanted more than this.

"i think that's quite a huge long term plan, sweetheart." he spoke with a slight giggle.

"yes it is." you said, the smile on your face getting ever so bright. "but i think it's the only long term plan i have for my life."

jay's heart swelled. he utterly adored the way you said it. the smile on your face gave away all of your thoughts. he could read you clearly. he knew all about your silly thoughts of running away with him and living in a cottage in a little village. you've talked about it before.

and oh yes he remembers. he remembers every little thing you talk about and every tiny detail about you. it's his way of showing love. showing that you're being noticed, showing that you're being looked after, showing that he took interest in you, showing that he cared.

thinking about it, jay wanted to spend the rest of his life with you too. he loved you despite your imperfections. hell, he thought you were perfect. he loved how you always showed concern towards him. he loved how you appreciated the effort he puts into everything he does. he loves how you sense it when he's feeling down, and pull him into one of the softest hugs ever. "i will take away all of your worries baby" you'd say.

"does this mean i have to buy you a ring?" he says playfully and you narrow your eyes at him.

"is that what you inferred from what i've said?" you say pouting at him.

"i mean yes, but that also means i wanna get married to you too. so badly actually." he pressed his lips against yours, leaving a lingering peck, dripping with love.

moments like this, made you feel that this man was made just for you and you wouldn't trade him for the world.

[greatooglymooglyyy]

heyy first of i really like your writing, and i would love if could u do one where the reader and matt are at a party and she’s trying to make matt jealous by dancing w someone and one thing leads to another and they get a room iyk ;))

Party Favor (Matt Sturniolo)

contains: smut, soft dom matt, toxicity, established friends with benefits, unprotected sex, sex in a strangers room, male receiving, 1.8k words

a/n: lol not my only smuts both being matty boy. 🤷🏽‍♀️ oh well. hope this is close to what you wanted anon. sorry it took a minute.

“Blue or black?” I ask, holding up the two options against my body as I speak. Matt glances up quickly and then looks back down at his phone.

“You’ll look good in either.” He mutters with a hint of disinterest. I huff in frustration and roll my eyes, deciding on the black dress and tossing the blue onto Matt’s floor.

He sighs, snatching it up and folding it as I change. I smile to myself at his clean freak behavior, enjoying how easy it is to irritate him. It’s almost my favorite thing to do to him. Almost.

“Are you ready to go now?” He asks for the third time. I nod and do a little spin for him. “How do I look?”

Matt runs his eyes up and down my body slowly for a second, his eyes darkening. “Gorgeous. But you know that.” Always playing so hard to get, this boy.

I walk to him and stand between his legs, leaning down to kiss his Adam's apple. He swallows hard and clears his throat. “Can we go now? Everybody’s waiting on us.” I groan as Matt stands up, grabbing my hand and tugging me out of the room.

**************

When we arrive at the party, the music is so loud the room feels like it has a pulse. I scrunch my nose up at the smell of alcohol and hot wings wafting through the room. Matt lets my hand go as he and Chris see one of their friends and I nod as he lets me know he’ll be back. I look over my shoulder for Nick and Madi but somehow I've lost them in the crowd.

Sighing, I head for the kitchen, praying they have something clear. There are bodies all around the island as some guy shotguns a beer and his boys chant. I roll my eyes, a little queasy from the pure testosterone in this room, and turn to leave when I feel a hand on my arm. I turn, prepared to raise hell, and pause when I see my old classmate’s face.

“Josh?” I say, squinting a bit to see if it’s really him. He flashes me a bright smile and reaches out for a hug.

“I thought that was you!” He says. “Caught me off guard there for a second. You look good.”

I smile and push his arm playfully. “Me? Check you out.” He laughs, a bit shy now. “You want a drink?”

He pours me one as we catch up and then make our way back into the heart of the party, sitting on the stairs.

“So…” He says, pausing to take a sip from his cup. “You single or are you here with someone?”

I hesitate for a second, not knowing how to answer that question, but then decide to go with the truth.

“Technically, yes, I’m single. But I am here with someone.” I spot Matt on a sofa across the room and gesture at him. “Him. But we’re just friends.” I say, throwing up air quotations.

Josh nods and bites his lip in thought. “So he’s an idiot then. Got it.” I shrug, taking another sip and tearing my eyes away from Matt to meet Josh’s gaze. He smirks at me and I move my eyes down to his lips, an idea forming in my head. A bad one. He must see it in my eyes because his smile just gets wider as he leans in slightly. “Come dance with me.” He says, standing up and reaching for my hand.

**************

We’re body to body now, his hand on my hip, my back to his chest. The music is so loud I can barely hear my thoughts, not that there’s much to think about. I squeeze my eyes shut, swaying my hips against his to the time of Nelly’s Hot In Herre. I feel my hair being swiped to the side and a kiss being pressed to my neck and sigh, pushing away how much I wish it was someone else behind me.

I open my eyes, scanning the room out of habit, and find Matt watching me with an unreadable expression.

I grin and lean more into Josh, grinding harder now and tossing my head back on his shoulder. He follows my lead, moving his hands up and down from my hips to my stomach and back.

But when he starts to move lower, I feel a pit in my stomach and pull away from him. “Sorry,” I mutter, smoothing a hand on my forehead and rushing away. I look back over to where Matt was sitting but he’s vanished so I head up the stairs looking for somewhere to get my thoughts together.

I find an empty bedroom and slip inside quickly. But as I go to close the door, someone stops it with their foot and pushes in. I step back as Matt enters and locks the door behind me, a smile on his face.

“You good?” He asks, cocking his head to the side and I raise my eyebrow at his casual tone.

“Yes,” I answer cautiously. “Are you?”

He nods, slipping past me and sitting at the foot of the bed. He gestures for me and I go to him, sitting in his lap and swinging my legs over his. He studies me for a second and then kisses me deeply, one of his hands on the back of my neck. I lean into him, running my tongue across his bottom lip and lightly nipping it when he goes to pull away.

“You looked like you were having fun.” He says, his tone still way too indifferent for my liking.

“Why? Were you jealous?” I try playfully, testing the waters. He shrugs and leans down to place kisses across my collarbone.

“Why would I be?”

I scoff, pushing down how much that stings. “Okay, Matt,” I say and go to stand but he tightens his grip on my waist so I can’t move.

“Why would I be jealous of someone you’re pretending is me?” He says with a dry laugh. My breath hitches as he runs his hands higher and higher up my inner thigh. “I actually feel a little bad for the guy.”

“Yeah?” I ask breathless as his thumb starts to rub through my panties, wetness already gathering at his light touch.

“Mhm.” He confirms, pushing the fabric to the side and slipping one of his fingers into me. I gasp as he slides in and out of me, never breaking eye contact. “He’ll never hear that sound.”

I grind my hips into his hand and he picks up his pace, fighting for dominance and winning. He adds another finger, stretching me, while his thumb works circles on my clit and I moan out his name. Matt grins at me, his eyes sparkling as he pulls his fingers out to my protest. He pushes my legs off his lap and motions for me to stand, which I do reluctantly. But, he stays seated, undoing his belt with one hand and tugging me down until I kneel in front of him.

Once he’s free, I wrap one hand around him and look up into his eyes as I tap his dick against my tongue. I draw him into my mouth, swirling my tongue around his tip as I pump my hand up and down his base. He hisses and throws his head back, reaching down to gather my hair out of the way as I begin to suck. My eyes water when he hits the back of my throat but I keep going, motivated by his breathy calls of my name. His leg starts to shake and he stops me with a hand on my shoulder, pulling me up and back onto his lap.

I straddle him now and wrap my arms around his neck as he kisses me like he's starving. He lifts me slightly to make room and lines himself up to slide inside of me. I moan into his mouth when he does and he wraps his arms around my waist tightly so I can’t start riding him. He pulls away from the kiss and watches me, undeterred by my desperate pleas for him to move.

“I can’t believe you thought I’d be jealous of some random motherfucker who’s never felt this. That’s fucking crazy.” He shakes his head in mock disbelief.

“How do you know he won’t get to?” I ask in an attempt to piss him off but he just laughs without humor.

“Because I’d never fuck you again and we both know you’re not giving this up.” I snort at his cockiness and I roll my hips to get him to shut the hell up. He grunts and gives in, pulling me up roughly and setting a steady pace. He brings his lips back to mine giving me sweet kisses that punctuate his thrust.

“Please,” I beg and I’m not even sure what I’m asking for but Matt seems to understand anyway, flipping us over and pushing my legs into my chest.

He watches me come undone as he speeds up, his angle allowing him perfect access to hit my sweet spot. Every time I try to close my eyes, lost in the moment, he stops me. “Nah, look at me. I want to watch you take it.”

Just when I think there’s no way he can get deeper, he pushes my legs to the side and slides me closer to the edge of the bed. I jerk my hips against him, feeling the pressure in my core building, and grab onto the comforter.

“Come on, baby.” He says softly, reaching down to smooth his knuckle over my face. “Let me feel you come for me.”

His words push me right over the edge and he covers my mouth when I cry out in ecstasy. Matt doesn’t ease up his strokes as I come around him, rolling his hips and moaning out praises. I start to squirm up the bed as the intensity becomes too much and he notices, leaning down to press kisses to my jaw. “Almost there baby. You’re doing so good.” He says, his voice heavy and strained. I say his name again, turning my head to whisper in his ear that I’m his. This sets him off and he yells out a string of curses as he pushes into me deeply one last time.

We lay there for a second, out of breath, before Matt lifts himself off of me. I sit up and watch as he redresses and tosses me a towel he found in the bathroom.

“Matt,” I say after cleaning up and he turns to me while buttoning his pants. “What the fuck are we doing? Are we friends? Are we-” I cut myself off and turn to the mirror, adjusting my dress. “Y’know what? Nevermind.” I mutter. Matt comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist.

“If you don’t know by now that you’re mine, you’re not nearly as smart as I thought you were.” He says, reaching up to turn my face to his.

“But are you mine?” I ask unconvinced, a small worry crease forming between my brows.

“Since day one.”

[devildomcuties]

Obey Me: Raspberries [Demon Brothers]

thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy it :)

🕷 paring: demon brothers x gn!reader 18+

🕷 summary: Raspberries and tummy kisses.

🕷 wc: 2.2k

🕷 warnings: pet names (love, treasure, babe, hun, cupcake), hickeys, biting, oral sex, cum swallowing, making out, MC puts on lipstick

🕷 date: April 21, 2024

Lucifer

You savored every private moment with Lucifer. Most nights you snuck out of your bedroom and climbed the stairs, making sure none of the brothers spotted you entering Lucifer's bedroom. 

“At this point, love, perhaps we should consider acquiring bunk beds,” Lucifer states as you shut his bedroom door. 

“And why would we do that when you have a perfectly giant bed for the two of us?” You ask as you climb into bed beside him. 

“You do make a good point,” Lucifer chuckles as he wraps an arm around you. He’s shirtless like always when he gets into bed. His sweatpants hang low on his hips and you roll over to face him. Your leg slides between both of his as you place your hand on his chest. 

“Lie down,” you commanded and Lucifer hesitated before lying under you. He eyes you curiously as you straddle his hips.

Slowly, you kiss his neck, sucking on the one spot that drives him wild. He moans your name, his hands gripping the sheets as you sink your teeth into his neck. 

“No marks,” he reminds you breathlessly as your tongue licks over the bite and you kiss your way down his perfectly sculpted torso. 

Lucifer sits up on his elbows, his black hair disheveled from the mountain of pillows beneath him. He licks his lips when you kiss his hip, sucking gently for a moment. 

“You know, there’s this thing we do back home,” you giggle as you sit up, grinning mischievously.

Lucifer quirks his head, befuddled. 

“What is it, love?”

You don’t answer him. You lean forward and kiss around his belly button, tracing it with your tongue. You lick your lips and do your best to hide your wicked grin before you lean down and blow raspberries on his stomach. 

“What in the Devildom is that?” Lucifer’s eyes are wide with surprise. After all this time knowing you, you could still surprise him with your human qualities. 

“They’re called raspberries,” you explain as you do it again, and Lucifer rolls his eyes. You laugh before kissing his lips, moving to straddle him once again. 

“It is an odd feeling,” he says when he presses his forehead to yours. 

“It feels tingly for a bit on my lips,” you laugh before you find yourself on your back with Lucifer on top. 

“I supposed I could give it a try,” Lucifer states as he kisses your lips once more before kissing his way down to your belly button. 

Mammon

“Great Grimm! What are you doing here?!” Mammon asks as he’s caught in the act. 

“You mean in my bedroom?” You ask with a raised brow. You spot him with your pillow after catching him sniffing it. 

“Oh, yeah,” he laughs nervously as he sets your pillow down, his cheeks ablaze. 

Mammon lies on your bed, his arms tucked behind his head as he tries to appear nonchalant. You suspect he’s up to no good by how hard he’s trying to appear innocent. 

You spot his tummy exposed as you climb onto your bed. Mammon remains still as his eyes follow your movement. 

“Gonna tell me what you were up to?” You ask as you lift his shirt a little higher. Your fingers trace the smooth planes of his abdomen slowly. You note the slight change in his breathing, his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. 

“Just wanted to see you,” he clears his throat as he looks at your fingers. You lean forward after licking your lips and blow raspberries on his stomach. He jerks, eyes wide and full of surprise as he looks at you with his mouth wide open. 

“What do ya think you’re doing? What was that?!” He laughs as he shakes his head. It tickled but mostly surprised him. 

“Tell me the truth or I’ll do it again!” You threatened playfully. Mammon smirks, miming zipping his lips as you blow raspberries on him again. 

Mammon laughs, jerking beneath you as you do it twice more before he gives up. 

“Just so you know, Treasure, I get to do this to you next,” Mammon smiles smugly as you kiss the spot beneath his belly button. 

“Do your worst.”

Levi

“What kind of normie thing is this?” Leviathan asks as he stares at you with wide eyes. Solomon had managed to grab a few DVD sets of your favorite shows and now on screen, the protagonist was giving raspberries to her romantic partner.

You laugh. “They’re just raspberries.”

“They don’t look like fruit,” Levi is confused while you giggle. You motion for him to lay back in the tub, careful not to squish him too much though he loves it when you’re pressed tightly against him no matter how red his face turns. 

You’re slow with your movements. You lift his shirt to expose his belly button and he blushes but doesn’t stop you, his curiosity getting the best of him. 

Smiling, you lower his pants a bit as you lick your lips and press them to his skin. He curses, whispering your name as your tongue circles his belly button. You blow raspberries on him and he squeaks, covering his face as you do it again before kissing lower. 

“Can I go further?” You ask as your finger circles the button on his pants. 

“P-please,” he stutters as you undo the buttons of his pants and pull the zipper down. You give him plenty of time to tell you to stop but he doesn’t. Levi begs you to keep going as he lifts his hips as you tug his pants and boxers down. 

Levi gasps when your hand wraps around his cock, eyes rolling back when you spit on the head. 

“Oh, fuck,” Levi jerks his hips as you take him into your mouth. You bob up and down, slurping and sucking so hard his eyes roll back. No matter how many times you suck him off, he still gets so overwhelmed with pleasure he can hardly stand it. 

When he hits the back of your throat, he sees stars, hips jerking as he cums down your throat. He barely remembers how this started, something about raspberries?

Satan

“What are you doing?” Satan jumps when he hears your voice. 

“Shhh,” he hushed you as he shut the library door. He locks it and points to the couch. 

You take a seat, waiting for Satan to say or do something. 

“I stole this from Solomon’s room,” Satan explains as he shows you a book. “It’s got all sorts of Human World stuff.”

You nod. “You could have just asked me if you wanted to talk about human stuff. You know Solomon will realize sooner or later that you took his book without asking. Remember when you took the book on the ABC’s of Sex?”

Satan blushes, ignoring you as he grits his teeth. “I don’t recall.”

“Anyway,” you sigh, patting the spot beside you on the couch. Satan lies down when you push his shoulders, easily malleable under your hands. You’re the only one he would allow to treat him as such. 

Anyone else would be obliterated where they stand. 

You take the book from him after you straddle his lap, opening it to the first chapter. You skim through it while Satan grabs your hips. You read aloud, and Satan listens for the first few minutes until his hands move lower to grab your ass. You whisper a quick spell and the book flies from your hands and is narrated while you kiss Satan. 

Satan loses interest in the book as you deepen the kiss, your hands removing his shirt before kissing your way down his body. 

You pause at his stomach, taking your time to kiss every bit of skin. Satan moans softly, nearly whining beneath you as his cock grows hard. You palm him over his pants, licking your lips as you unbutton his pants. 

Satan’s gaze meets yours, his lip caught between his teeth. He’s about to beg you to keep going, when a loud knock startles the both of you. 

The stolen book falls to the carpeted floor with a soft thunk. 

“Satan! Give me back my book or I’ll blow the library to bits!” Solomon huffs as he knocks again. 

“Looks like he figured it out,” you smirk as you climb off Satan and grab the book. 

Asmo

“Oh, hun,” Asmo moans as you rub his shoulders. You had spent the evening pampering him. From a long, hot bath to a foot massage and a manicure. 

The two of you were spending the night together in bed. Tomorrow, he would take you on a grand date to celebrate your anniversary but tonight, you wanted him to feel good. 

Asmo curses when you move lower before kissing your way down his spine. The oil you used sticks to your lips, making them glossy. 

“Turn around,” you instruct and Asmo does so with a smile. 

“Hello again,” he giggles as you lean in to kiss him. Asmo sighs happily as you kiss your way down his body, marking his pretty skin with love bites. 

Asmo runs his fingers through your hair before reaching to the nightstand. He hands you a red lipstick that you apply. 

Asmo smiles when you kiss his body, leaving red lip marks on every bit of skin touched by your pretty lips. 

You reapply the lipstick, kissing the spot right below his belly button. You leave a mark on each hip, and one over his heart. Asmo grins as he looks down at you, pressing his lips to yours, smearing lipstick on both of your mouths. 

Tomorrow, he’ll still have the mark over his heart and someday he’ll have it permanently marked. 

Beel

Beel groaned as he set the weights down. He wiped his face with a towel and took his sweat-soaked shirt off. 

You wave from your spot on the floor where you finish stretching. Beel sits down beside you, stretching his legs before falling onto the clean towel you laid out for him. 

“Ah, I’m so hungry,” Beel laughs as he stares at the ceiling before he feels you climb over him. 

“Funny, so am I,” you smirk as you press your lips to his, moaning when he grabs your hips. You deepen the kiss for a moment, moaning his name before you leave a trail of kisses down his body. 

Your tongue circles his belly button, licking him up and down before tugging his shorts down. His hard cock greets you and your mouth waters at the sight as your hand wraps around him but your fingers never meet. 

You spit on the head of his cock, grinning when Beel moans your name. You lick your lips and then stick your tongue out. 

Beel grabs his cock, slapping the head on your tongue as you drool on yourself.

“Oh, Cupcake,” Beel grunts as you take him back into your mouth. He curses, rolling his hips as you stroke him. You wet your lips, puckering them to blow raspberries on the head of his cock. Beel groans, his eyes shut as you lick his length before you bob up and down.

Beel grabs the back of your head, cursing when you swallow and choke. You gasp for breath, allowing Beel to set the pace he likes before he’s pulling you off his cock. 

“I can’t wait anymore, babe. I need you,” Beel says before his lips meet yours. 

Belphie

Belphie had fallen asleep with your head on his lap. You told him about your day before you dozed off with his fingers in your hair. 

He tried to stay awake but he soon nodded off shortly after you. It would only be a couple of hours before someone interrupted the two of you, so he wanted to wake up after a short nap. 

When Belphie wakes up next, your lips are on his stomach. He feels the feather light touch of your lips repeatedly, only stopping when you see he’s awake. 

“We slept through the night,” you state with a sheepish smile. 

“Damn,” Belphie shakes his head. “I was hoping we’d get more time together.”

“I took care of it,” you inform him before you go back to kissing his stomach, gently sucking on his hip bone. Belphie moans your name, his hand grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into a toe-curling kiss that leaves you seeing stars. 

Soon, you’re beneath him as he trails kisses from your jaw down to your belly button. His name slips past your lips as you grip his hair in your hand just as he kisses right above your belly button. He kisses every inch of you before he tickles you. 

“Belphie!” You squeak before he kisses your hand. He blows a raspberry on your hip and you chuckle, pushing him away before you straddle him. 

“You play around too much,” you tell him as he kisses each of your wrists before pressing your hands together and placing them on the bed. 

“I do,” he admits with a yawn. “But I only give as much as you can take.”

“And how much can I take?” You goad him with a smirk. 

“How about we find out?” Belphie kisses you, his tongue meeting yours. His moans are music to your ears, and you kiss him harder, wanting to breathe him in completely, to devour every last bit of his being.

© devildomcuties - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms.

[llamagoddessofficial]

I'm on my knees for any more crumbs with prison AU therapist Mc and Sans 🙏 the more equal(?) dynamic is just so good And to the anon that brought it up—I love you

I'll do you one better. Here's some crumbs for ALL of them

Since she's not a nurse, this Mc doesn't have a very strong stomach. Stories of Skull's crimes sometimes make her physically ill.

Generally, Sans and Mc's 'sessions' can be quite pleasant. They talk about current events, how things are going. It's only once she starts trying to explore his feelings that he starts toying with her.

... Red teases her a lot. She tries not to react to it, it's unprofessional, but he can always tell when he's flustering her. He gets this infuriating smug grin.

Since Red is a high risk prisoner, he has to have one hand cuffed to a table during therapy. He often complains that he wishes he could be cuffed alone in a room with her in different circumstances. What Mc doesn't realise is that, considering his strength, the cuffs are basically for decoration- Red just pretends he can't break out of them so she feels more comfortable alone in a room with a massive skeleton monster who openly displays interest in her.

Sans doesn't require cuffs in his sessions. And the only time he was cuffed, he snapped them 'accidentally' to make a point. It just makes it all the more nervewracking for Mc.

Skull doesn't know she's his therapist. He thinks she just really cares about him. That's why she keeps coming back to see him, right?

Red isn't the only flirt. Sans is a lot more forward in this AU, considering she knows the truth about his nature. Granted, Sans being 'clear' about something is still incredibly cryptic, but he enjoys the shock in her eyes whenever he calmly flirts with her.

Red's flirting is warm, sincere, and never crosses the line... it leaves her flushed and (though she'd never admit it) flattered. Sans' flirting is nervewracking. It makes her feel like she's a mouse, and Sans is a cat playfully batting at her, capable of clawing her to death at any moment.

Skull gains bits and pieces of speech back a lot faster with her. Unfortunately, that means he's learning how to terrify the guards. It used to be that Skull would just scream or snarl, but now he likes to say broken ominous sentences to guards he doesn't like to see them shit their pants.

He's also figured out that, when he's really upset and angry, if he screams her name enough someone will send her. It's not a great lesson to learn... but it's better than him deciding to attack people.

Whenever Mc tries to get Skull to do therapeutic art with her, he just draws the same thing over and over. The art is scribbly thanks to his tremor, but it always looks like three people; a tall skeleton, a shorter skeleton, and a human. He draws them in various positions- standing together, sitting around a table, sitting on a couch. She suspects one skeleton is him and the human could be her, but she doesn't know who the tall skeleton is.

(It's him, her, and Papyrus. His family)

Sans, for all his power and control, gets ratty and jealous when she treats other people. The first time he hears her laugh is when she realises that was why he's being moody.

She'd never seen him so delighted before.

Sans likes when she dodges his conversational traps. He'll try to lure her into talking about herself, revealing information to him, but she won't fall for it and always turns it back on him. There's not much he's been able to glean from her. It's always so fun, to play with someone who knows what they're doing.

Again, she'll never admit it. But Mc is fascinated by Sans. Most serial killers are delusional and kinda pathetic, but Sans is as if all the stereotypes of the 'genius mastermind serial killer' were true. She gets to be up close and personal, see how he works; she gets to watch his mask rise and fall in real time.

Of course, he knows she's fascinated. He uses it to keep her coming back. He's fascinated with her, too~

[pucksandpower]

Playing Cupid

Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader

Summary: convinced that you and Max must be the most oblivious people on earth, the rest of the grid decide to take matters into their own hands

“Hey, I bet I can beat you to the debrief room!” Max’s voice carries through the paddock, his familiar smile in place.

You roll your eyes, a smirk playing on your lips. “You always say that and yet here we are.”

He chuckles, brushing a strand of his hair away from his face, “Optimism, it’s just part of my charm.”

“You mean your delusion?” You tease, nudging him with your elbow.

There’s a pause as you both make your way, the chatter of crew members a steady background hum as Max’s laughter and your shared jokes create a bubble around the two of you.

“You two are like the dynamic duo of Red Bull,” Daniel pipes up from where he’s leaning against the wall with his signature grin stretching across his face. “Batman and Robin vibes.”

You glance at Max, raising an eyebrow. “Batman and Robin? More like Tom and Jerry.”

Max snorts. “Which one am I?”

“Definitely Tom. Always chasing but never quite catching up.” You stick out your tongue playfully.

Daniel shakes his head with a laugh, “The chemistry though! It’s electric. The entire grid sees it.”

You look puzzled, glancing at Max whose face mirrors your own. “What are you on about, Danny?”

Before he can reply, Max’s race engineer joins in, “He’s not wrong. It’s like watching two magnets circle each other, not knowing they’re meant to connect.”

Max shrugs, looking slightly embarrassed at GP’s observation, “We’re just good friends. Teammates. That’s all.”

You nod in agreement. “Exactly! Just because we joke around doesn’t mean—”

“—there’s anything more,” Max finishes for you, the two of you so in sync it makes GP and Daniel exchange amused glances.

“Whatever you say,” GP chuckles.

The day wears on, filled with the usual press conferences, race strategies, and banter. But now, there’s an underlying hum, a question that seems to have spread among the drivers and teams: what if?

In the evening, as you’re about to make your way back to the hotel, Lewis sidles up to you. “You and Max, huh? That’s something. The fans will love it.”

You blink in surprise. “We’re just teammates. That’s all.”

He winks. “For now.”

You just laugh it off, not sure how to respond.

Later that night, you and Max find yourselves in a private corner of your hotel restaurant, both tired but satisfied. “Did Lewis say something weird to you too?” Max asks, sipping his drink.

You nod. “About us. I mean, we’re close, but all this talk ... it’s a bit strange, right?”

He sighs, “Yeah. Just because two people get along doesn’t mean they’re ... you know, together together.”

You chuckle. “Exactly. We’re friends. Best friends. That’s all.”

***

“Truth or dare!” The booming voice with an enthusiastic Australian accent echoes across the lounge where a few of the drivers have gathered post-qualifying, hoping to unwind.

Max groans from beside you. “Do we have to? Every time it ends up embarrassing at least one of us.”

You nudge him, laughing. “Oh, come on. Scared of a little dare, Verstappen?”

Daniel’s eyes gleam with mischief. “Exactly. What are you so afraid of, Maxie? Maybe revealing a certain ... secret?”

Lando, lounging on a sofa, chips in, “Or maybe singing a serenade for a certain someone?”

Max’s cheeks turn a shade redder while you feel your own face heat up. “I think Danny and Lando are in cahoots,” you whisper to Max, who chuckles in agreement.

“Alright, alright,” Max concedes, “Truth or dare. Bring it on.”

Daniel’s smile widens even further, a clear sign that he’s up to no good. “Okay, Max. Truth or dare?”

Max hesitates for a split second. “Dare.”

Daniel rubs his hands together with a surprisingly convincing evil smirk. “I dare you to serenade ...” He deliberately drags out the suspense, glancing around the room before pointing directly at you, “... your lovely teammate here.”

The room erupts into laughter and teasing. “Oh, this is going to be good!”

Max looks at you apologetically but there’s a playful glint in his eye. “Alright, alright. What song?”

You shake your head, already giggling in anticipation of what is to come. “Surprise me.”

Gathering courage, Max stands up, clearing his throat dramatically. He looks right into your eyes, a playful glint in his, and starts singing “I Want It That Way” … mostly.

“Tell me why … I keep crashing into walls. Tell me why … I can’t seem to win them all. Tell me why … I never want to hear you say, box box box box box.”

You laugh so hard that tears stream down your face. The room is filled with laughter, claps, and a few playful boos (mostly from Charles who seem partially traumatized by the mention of boxing).

“That’s officially the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me,” you say, sarcasm dripping from your words.

Max takes a bow, still red-faced. “Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all week.”

As the night winds down and the group starts to disperse, Daniel sidles up to you. “Soooooo …. did the serenade work?”

You laugh, “It was entertaining, to say the least. But Max and I ...” You trail off, not sure how to put your relationship into words.

“It’s alright,” Daniel nods understandingly and for a moment you actually think he might stop scheming to get the two of you together. But then he winks, “Sometimes the best things take time.”

***

“Formula 1 is as much about connections off the track as it is on,” Lewis begins, his voice smooth, measured, a practiced art in front of the cameras during the press conference. Flashbulbs click and reporters scribble notes. “Sometimes those connections are ... more than what meets the eye. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You raise an eyebrow. Next to you, Max shuffles slightly awkwardly.

Before you can answer, Lewis continues, eyes glinting with mischief, “For instance, teams with two drivers who might be ... more than just teammates?” His gaze flits subtly between you and Max, a tiny smirk playing on his lips.

Max laughs it off. “Talking about you and George? Or was it back with Nico?”

A ripple of laughter flows through the conference room and you bite back a smile, appreciating Max’s deflection.

Lewis grins, completely unfazed. “Good one. But no, I’ve heard some rumors about another team ... one that rhymes with Bed Rull, perhaps?”

Now you feel the need to intervene, “Rumors are just that, Lewis. Rumors. Max and I are teammates, good friends. Nothing more.” You keep your voice light but firm.

“But isn’t it interesting,” Lewis ponders aloud, “how two people can spend so much time together, share so many experiences, practically think with the same brain, and still not notice a ... deeper connection?”

Max’s eyes meet yours briefly, a momentary search for an answer, a reaction perhaps. But as quick as the look is, it’s gone.

After finishing up with media, Charles shoots a dimpled smile your way. “Quite the interview by Lewis, huh? He’s not usually one for gossip.”

You laugh. “Trying to stir the pot, I guess. Maybe he’s bored? Everyone loves a good love story.”

Charles nods, his gaze a bit more serious. “But sometimes … sometimes rumors are built on a foundation of truth. Even if you don’t see it.”

You mull over his words but before you can respond, Max joins the conversation. “Is everyone becoming a relationship expert these days or something?”

Charles just shrugs with an impish grin. “Maybe we all just want to see our friends happy.”

The comment gives you pause. Is that all this is? Friendly teasing? Or is there something more you’re missing? Something right in front of you that you’re not seeing?

But for now, as you and Max head back towards the Red Bull motorhome, you push those thoughts aside, determined to focus on the upcoming race and the challenge it presents.

***

“Fancy seeing you here!” Your team principal greets you, his tone feigning surprise as you walk into the upscale restaurant.

Max squints at him suspiciously. “You invited us both here, Christian.”

“Yes, a lovely team dinner. Just the three of us,” Christian confirms with an overly innocent smile as he guides you both to a table by the window.

The setting is intimate, with soft lighting and plush seating. A live harpist is serenading diners. It’s definitely not your typical “team dinner.”

“Christian,” you muse aloud, “this place looks a tad extravagant for a casual dinner, does it not?”

He shrugs, a smile still in place. “Consider it a treat for the team’s recent successes.”

Before you can continue your line of questioning, a waiter approaches to take your orders. You and Max share a conspiratorial glance.

“I’ll have the lobster bisque to start. With extra lobster,” Max begins, deciding to indulge.

“I’ll take the osetra caviar. You can bring the entire tin. With extra blini,” you add, grinning as you see Christian’s eyes widen.

Christian clears his throat. “Well, I actually just remembered an urgent call I have to take. Enjoy the meal, you two.” And with that, he hurries away, leaving you both chuckling.

Max leans in with a whisper, “Do you think he’s up to something?”

“Absolutely. Let’s make him pay ... literally. He did say it’s on him.”

Safe to say that you both enjoy the finest dishes the restaurant has to offer. “At this rate,” you joke as the waiter opens your second bottle of ridiculously expensive wine, “Red Bull is going to break the budget cap because of catering. Again.”

Throughout the meal, you and Max discuss the recent upgrades to your cars, dissecting each detail with genuine interest and passion. The conversation flows easily but is entirely centered on racing.

Unbeknownst to you both, scattered around the restaurant are various team members and drivers in disguises, watching your every move. From Daniel donning a fake mustache as he pretends to be a waiter to Yuki wearing a chef’s hat peeking out of the kitchen, they’re all there and all invested in the outcome of the evening.

From his spot behind the bar, Lando, sporting a terrible wig, groans. “They’re just talking about tire degradation! This is so frustrating.”

Charles, disguised as a saxophonist with a carefully trimmed goatee, chimes in, “I thought this would be it. This setting is perfect.”

Back at your table, you raise your glass. “To another successful season and having amazing teammates.”

Max clinks his glass against yours, laughing. “Cheers to that!”

As you leave, completely oblivious to your undercover audience, the collective sigh of exasperation from the team members is almost audible even over the live music.

***

“What’s this?” You lift the elegantly wrapped package from your locker, examining the tag which reads: From Fernando - Enjoy the relaxation.

Max, peering over your shoulder, also pulls out a similar package from his locker. “Looks like we both got gifts.”

Ripping open the delicate paper, you pull out a luxurious pamphlet. The cover boasts a serene image of a spa, complete with candle-lit rooms and peaceful landscapes. Max’s eyes widen as he realizes he’s got the same one.

“A couples spa retreat?” Max reads aloud, an eyebrow raised in amusement. “Really?”

Fernando, passing by at that exact moment, grins cheekily. “Thought you two could use some relaxation and a day off the track.”

“Very thoughtful of you,” you reply, peering up at him skeptically, “But why a couples retreat?”

Fernando shrugs, the picture of innocence. “It had the best reviews. Just trying to be a good friend.”

Max laughs, rolling his eyes. “Well, thanks for the ... thoughtful gift. Might as well use it.”

And so, you find yourself at the spa, wrapped in plush robes as the gentle hum of soft music and flowing water fills the air.

Max, his feet soaking in a warm tub and a clay mask setting on his face, looks over at you. “You think this was another one of their schemes to get us together?”

You laugh, dipping your toes into the fragrant water. “At this point, nothing would surprise me.”

The day goes on with various treatments — massages, scrubs, and mud baths. But instead of talking about personal lives or diving deep into emotions, you both end up discussing the possible benefits of the treatments.

“You know,” Max muses as he receives a deep tissue massage, “this technique might help with muscle fatigue after long races.”

You, getting a foot massage, nod in agreement. “Absolutely. And the mud bath we took earlier? Might help with detoxifying after particularly sweaty race weekends.”

The spa therapists, used to couples sharing intimate moments, are clearly bemused by your discussions.

Later, as you both relax in the sauna, Fernando sneaks a peek through a small window, hoping to catch a romantic moment. But to his chagrin, he finds you both animatedly discussing the aerodynamics of your cars.

“Did you notice the slight drag on the left during the last turn?” You ask, wiping away sweat.

Max nods. “I’ve been meaning to bring that up. We need to discuss that with the team.”

Fernando sighs, leaning against the wall outside the sauna. “They’re hopeless,” he mutters to himself.

He approaches you both later, looking slightly defeated. “So, the spa day? Did it perhaps help ... bring you two closer?”

You smile, patting him on the shoulder. “It was amazing for our driving techniques. Thanks, Fernando.”

Max nods in agreement, “Best spa day ever. We’re thinking of making it a regular thing.”

Fernando groans, realizing that his plan, like all the others, has somehow backfired. “I give up. You two are impossible.”

***

“Beach volleyball? Seriously?” Max raises an eyebrow, looking at the makeshift court that Lando and George have set up on the sand.

George grins, passing a volleyball between his hands. “Thought it’d be a fun way to unwind. And we’ve set the teams so it’s fair and ... interesting.”

Lando winks. “You and Y/N are paired up, of course. We thought you two could use some quality time together.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smirk that forms on your lips. “Let me guess, another one of your schemes to play matchmaker?”

Lando feigns shock. “Us? We would never.”

You laugh, pulling Max towards your side of the makeshift court. “Alright then, let’s do this. Prepare to be schooled, boys.”

What was meant to be a friendly match quickly turns intense. Max and you make a formidable team. The chemistry on the track seamlessly transitions to the sand, both of you equally competitive and always anticipating the other’s next moves.

“I didn’t know you two were this good!” George pants, hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath.

You wink at him, taking your position. “There’s a lot you don’t know about us.”

Neither you nor Max are willing to give an inch. Diving saves, powerful spikes, and clever feints — you both are in it to win it.

Lando, gasping and covered in sand, mutters to George, “This was supposed to be fun. Not an Olympic match.”

The final point arrives, with you and Max at an advantage. Lando, attempting a weak serve, sends the ball perfectly to you. With a powerful run-up, you spike the ball back directly towards him. It’s fast, precise, and ... it ends up hitting Lando square in his balls.

He collapses on the hot sand, groaning. The surrounding crowd winces empathetically but you and Max? You both burst into uncontrollable laughter, falling to your knees for an entirely different reason.

“Lando!” George rushes to his side, a mix of concern and amusement on his face.

Still on the ground, Lando whines, “There go my chances of ever having kids.”

Max, between fits of laughter, manages to say, “Sorry, mate. But that was ... epic.”

You nod in agreement, offering Lando a hand. “Next time, be prepared if you’re going to challenge us. We don’t do things by halves.”

Lando takes your hand to pull himself up. “Noted. No more volleyball with you two.”

***

“Whoa,” Max blinks, staring at his phone screen. “Did you just text me?”

You frown, looking up from your own phone. “No, why?”

He shows you the screen where a message pops up, supposedly from you:

I’ve been meaning to tell you

I think I have feelings for you

Your eyes widen in shock. “I definitely didn’t send that. Wait …” You check your phone, finding a similar message supposedly from Max:

Ever since we became teammates, I’ve felt something more

Do you feel the same?

Confused, you show Max the message. The two of you exchange bewildered glances. “What is happening?” He asks, genuinely perplexed.

You shake your head. “Someone must think it’s funny to play a game with us.”

From a distance, behind the pit wall, Pierre Gasly is trying hard to suppress his laughter, watching the two of you. He nudges Charles who is next to him. “Do you think they bought it?”

Charles grins, “Knowing those two, they will probably figure it out. But it was worth the shot.”

Back at your spot, Max raises an eyebrow, “Did you by any chance get a new number recently?”

You nod. “Yeah, last week. Remember I gave it to you when we flew in? But only the team and our friends have it. Who would pull such a prank?”

Max smirks, “I have a few suspects in mind.”

You both decide to play along, typing away furiously. Max’s smirk grows wider with every passing second. “Let’s see how much our prankster likes the cards being reversed.”

Minutes later, Pierre’s phone buzzes. It’s a message from Max:

I’m so relieved you feel the same

How about dinner tonight?

Somewhere private?

Pierre’s eyes widen in surprise. He quickly checks your supposed response:

Of course I do!

Can’t believe we waited this long to admit our feelings

See you tonight? Let’s meet in the lobby for drinks and maybe dessert if you’re lucky ❤️

Pierre gulps, shooting a panicked look at Charles. “I think I’ve made a huge mistake.”

Charles snickers. “Oh, this is going to be good.”

Later in the day, Pierre approaches with guilt basically stamped across his forehead. “Look, about the texts you got …”

You grin. “Figured it out, did you?”

Max chuckles, clapping Pierre on the back. “Nice try but despite what you may think, we’re not complete idiots. ”

Pierre sighs in relief. “Honestly, I thought I might have ignited something real for a moment there.”

You laugh, “I would hope any grand confession of love I receive happens through something other than sneaky texts.”

Pierre nods, smiling sheepishly. “Fair enough. But hey, if you ever do decide to go for a romantic dinner, let me know. It’s on me.”

Max grins, “Deal.”

***

The paddock is transformed. A massive screen is set up, loungers and bean bags are spread around, and fairy lights dangle from above as a large screen and projector take center stage.

“Rom-coms?” Max squints at the list Charles is holding, a collection of the cheesiest, most cliche romantic movies available.

Charles grins, unashamed. “Best way to set the mood, right?”

You laugh, “Still trying to make Lestappen happen?”

Charles blushes. “That was one time! Besides, I have moved on to more ... realistic goals.”

Lando pops up from behind a popcorn stand, “Like getting you two to finally see what’s right in front of you.”

You roll your eyes, playfully pelting a handful of popcorn at his head. “Enough with the matchmaking.”

The movie starts and it’s clear that every spot has been strategically taken, leaving just one chair available. Daniel points to your teammate with a deceivingly innocent expression, “Why don’t you sit on Max’s lap? Save space.”

Max doesn’t miss a beat. “Or you could give up your seat and come sit on my lap yourself.”

The surrounding drivers erupt in laughter as Daniel smiles widely, conceding the point. You both end up squeezing into the chair somehow.

As the movie plays, instead of getting swept up in the romance, you both start dissecting it.

“Why would she run in the rain after him? That’s just asking for pneumonia,” Max comments as the heroine dashes through a downpour.

You nod in agreement, “And those heels? Totally impractical. She should have changed into boots.”

Charles groans, burying his face in his hands. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go.”

George pats his hair sympathetically, “You tried. That’s what matters.”

As the movie reaches its climax with a grand chase through the airport, you muse, “You know, airports have strict security. How did he even get to the gate without a boarding pass?”

Max nods, “And the plane? Totally off. They used the wrong model. That one can’t fly long-haul.”

Charles jumps up in exasperation. “That’s it! No more movies. You two are ridiculous.”

You grin, throwing an arm around Max. “Oh, come on. Admit it … you love us.”

Max chuckles, “Thanks for the movie night. Learned a lot about airport logistics and practical footwear.”

Charles sighs but a smile tugs at his lips. “We’re really not being paid enough for this.”

***

“Team-building exercise?” Max echoes. Both of you are seated in Christian’s office, a mysterious smile playing on the team principal’s lips.

Christian nods, gesturing to the woman beside him. “This is Dr. Amelia Foster, a top relationship expert.”

You exchange a hesitant glance with Max. “Relationship expert? But we’re not a couple.”

Dr. Foster chuckles, adjusting her glasses. “I’m not here for romantic purposes. I help partners of all kinds communicate better. Even teammates.”

Max leans forward. “So, what’s the plan?”

Christian clears his throat. “A simple session. See if there’s any room for improvement in your communication. I mean, you two are already a great team. Imagine if you were even better?”

Dr. Foster nods, opening her notebook. “Let’s start with a basic exercise. Max, describe how you feel when Y/N makes a risky move.”

Max thinks for a moment. “Concerned, I guess. I trust her skills but I also worry about her safety.”

You smile, touched. “And I feel proud when Max nails a difficult maneuver. He has an instinct during races that is unmatched.”

The session continues, delving into how you view each other’s strengths, weaknesses, and driving styles. As the conversation flows, Dr. Foster introduces various communication techniques.

“Now, let’s practice active listening,” she suggests. “Y/N, tell Max something, and Max, you’ll repeat it back in your own words.”

You nod. “Alright. Sometimes, when we’re racing side by side, I wish you would give me a tiny bit more space.”

Max considers then responds, “You’d like me to be a bit more cautious and ensure you have enough room during close races.”

Dr. Foster claps her hands. “Excellent! See? It’s about mutually understanding and validating each other’s perspectives.”

By the end of the session, both of you are genuinely engrossed in the exercises, seeing the potential benefits for your on-track dynamic.

As you both leave, Max turns to you, excitement in his eyes. “That technique where we visualize the other’s perspective? That could be a game-changer during races!”

You nod in agreement. “Absolutely! And the active listening can help during debriefs. Ensure we’re always on the same page.”

Christian, waiting outside, is initially hopeful upon seeing your animated discussion. “So, did the two of you ... connect?”

Max grins, “Oh, we did! I think our communication on the track is going to be better than ever.”

Christian sighs, realizing his matchmaking attempt has gone astray once again. “Not quite what I had in mind but I’ll take it for now.”

***

“I swear, rain at a race weekend is the universe’s way of telling us to slow down,” you quip, leaning back in your chair as the rain pours outside.

Max chuckles from his seat next to you. “Or it’s just weather. But I prefer your explanation.”

The sound of the rain has already lulled a group of mechanics to sleep. There’s an unexpected calm with the usual bustle of the race on hold.

You pull out your phone, browsing your music. “Let’s trade favorite songs. Bet I can surprise you with my taste.”

Max opens his own music app. “Challenge accepted.”

You play an indie track that has become your recent favorite. Max listens thoughtfully, “Never pegged you for an indie fan.”

You shrug, “Life’s full of surprises. Your turn.”

He selects a familiar classic rock track that makes you grin. “Bohemian Rhapsody? Really?”

He smirks, “Told you, surprises.”

“I’m mostly just surprised it’s not 33 Max Verstappen,” you tease.

As the afternoon stretches on, the music transitions to shared stories. You talk about your childhood, the early days of karting, the struggles, and triumphs. He shares his own tales, moments that shaped him, the highs and lows of his journey.

“Remember our first race as teammates?” He asks, a soft smile playing on his lips.

You laugh, “How could I forget? You almost ran me off the track.”

He chuckles, “Defensive driving. But you held your ground. Earned my respect that day.”

“And you earned mine,” you reminisce. “Not just as a driver but as a person.”

The atmosphere shifts, the mood turning contemplative. The stories become more personal, more intimate. You share your fears, dreams, and hopes. The raw honesty of the moment creates a bridge, a connection neither of you realized was missing.

Max looks at you, his gaze intense. “You know, despite all the teasing from the others, the setups, and the jokes, I never stopped to really see ... us.”

You nod, feeling a warmth spread through you. “I’ve been so focused on the track, on our partnership as teammates, that I never paused to consider the possibility of ... something more.”

He reaches out to gently take your hand, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. “Maybe it’s time we did.”

You look into his eyes, seeing your own emotions reflected back, and smile. “Maybe it is.”

***

The roar of the crowd is deafening as you both step onto the podium. The last race had been intense, with both of you claiming the top spots. Max, in first, and you, a close second. The excitement is contagious, the air electric.

Max turns to you, the gleam of victory in his eyes mirrored by another emotion that has been growing since that rainy day. Without another word, he pulls you close, capturing your lips in a kiss that feels like a victory all on its own.

The crowd goes wild, cheering and whistling. But what draws your attention as you pull away, breathless, is the reaction of the grid below.

Lando jumps up, punching the air. “Yes!”

Charles grins, clapping his hands together. “Told you it’d happen on the podium!”

Daniel, laughing, shouts, “Pay up, everyone! I had this race in the betting pool.”

Confused, you turn to Max, who shrugs, just as out of the loop.

Later, as the celebrations continue, Pierre pulls you both aside, showing a clip on his phone. It’s a video from a few months ago, all the drivers and Christian huddled together, placing bets on a whiteboard labeled When Will Max and Y/N Finally Stop Being Blind?

You laugh, watching the clip. “Of course you all managed to turn our love life into a game.”

Max wraps an arm around you. “Well, they do say racing is all about strategy and timing.”

Lando approaches with a pout. “You couldn’t wait a bit longer? I was two races off.”

Daniel, counting his winnings, smirks. “Better luck next time.”

Christian shakes his head with a laugh but pulls both of you in for a hug. “Never thought I’d be so happy to lose 50 quid. Congrats, you two.”

Surrounded by the people who spent most of the season trying to make this happen, you realize that love, like racing, has its own unpredictable course. Because sometimes, the best races aren’t on the track. They’re the ones that lead to unexpected, beautiful destinations.

[ginkgo-phyta]

heyy do you write for hotch? If yes can I request a fic with hotch falling asleep on reader's shoulder on the jet. like there are so many fics with reader sleeping on his shoulder and he's all soft about it and lets her. how would the bau react to see their tough boss just cuddle up with his girlfriend after a long case (it can be established relationship or before that too). thanku!

A/N: im screaming HAHA i LOVE THIS! i made this an established relationship hehe i hope you enjoy, my love! 

tagged spencer reid x reader because i want more people to see this teehee pls dont hate me i have spencer fics yall should read if you havent already but also you should still read this too

fluff, BAU!reader, gender-neutral reader, mention of cannon type violence/hostage situation/nothing explicit or detailed, 1.8k words

“Hey, you okay?” Your tired eyes peered up at Aaron as he neared your seat on the jet, tie loosened and top button of his shirt undone. He had just gotten off the phone with the section chief, who, undoubtedly, scolded him as if he were a wayward adolescent. Although the smile he offered you in response was tight lipped and less-than-giving, his eyes told a different tale. They softened as they met yours, shedding their cold and hard façade to reveal a weary truth, littered with hints of desperation. 

This case had been long and grueling, tensions insurmountably higher than usual with Erin Strauss breathing down Hotch’s neck, scrutinizing every decision he and the rest of the team made. You barely got a chance to talk to Aaron about how he was doing, always being waved off by the older man with “We can talk later,” or “It doesn’t matter right now, let’s focus on the case,”. Begrudgingly, you obliged, understanding there was no point in pushing him. It would only add to his stress. Although the case was solved, the end was arduous. The unsub had taken a hostage and, with the rest of the BAU’s input, the negotiation tactics went a different way than what Erin deemed appropriate. 

A heavy sigh parted Aaron’s lips as he slumped into his seat, you could practically see steam of stress billowing off of him. “It’s fine, everything’s fine.” He spoke quietly, eyes closed, but you could tell he didn’t believe it to be true. 

“Strauss tear you a new one?” Rossi piqued from across the table. 

The unit chief huffed out a short laugh. “Nothing out of the ordinary.” Rossi just nodded at this, turning his attention back to his notepad. Hotch looked to the rest of his team as they settled into their desired spots, “Let’s all get some rest, alright?” 

Everyone wordlessly nodded, not having to be told twice. 

Aaron lazily turned his head to you with a book in your lap, “You, too, Agent.” He gave you a playfully pointed look.

You breathed out a quiet chuckle, “I will, don’t worry.” You shut the book and turned to give your beloved undivided attention, gazing into his suddenly undecipherable, deep hickory eyes. “You wanna talk about it?” 

He gently shook his head, eyelids feeling heavy as his blinks became slower and slower, “At home,” he whispered, your stomach doing a somersault at the notion. Aaron tried to fight sleep for just a few seconds longer, wanting to just stare at you for a bit.

You faced him, head leaned against the headrest, smile so warm and endearing. The way you chuckled at him was like getting a glimpse of heaven. He couldn’t wait to go home and have you all to yourself. The feeling of your arms wrapped around him was his life raft in the tumultuous storm of his emotions. It was hard for him to express what he was feeling all the time, but with you around his walls of reinforced concrete tumbled. Aaron gave you a small, sleepy smile.

Before he could say anything else, you spoke up. “Sleep,” it was a simple command, and the usually stubborn man melted into his seat at your word. 

You took a couple minutes longer to watch him immediately fall into a deep slumber, his breaths becoming deeper and longer, lips parted ever-so-slightly, eyebrows twitching here and there. With a breathy laugh, you fought the urge to reach up and caress his face and move the little stray strands of hair off of his forehead, still aware that your coworkers could witness such an intimate moment. The two of you had begun dating five months ago, but it wasn’t until three months later that you broke the news to the team. 

It had been a long time coming; for quite a while everyone knew about the feelings you harbored for your boss- even Hotch himself knew. You didn’t do a very good job of hiding it, taking every opportunity you could to blithely flirt with him. Some might just assume you did so in a similar way to how Penelope and Derek toy with each other, but the profilers knew in the back of their minds it wasn’t the case. Aaron fought you at first, pleading with you to stop calling him “handsome”, “big man”, or even “honey” in one case. You never gave in, though, buckling down on your efforts upon seeing the way he would chuckle caught off guard and almost blush in many instances. Slowly yet surely, he gave in to your teases. You burrowed your way into the stoic man’s heart, creating a place you would die before giving up. Aaron didn’t even realize it was happening until his world came crashing down on him one fateful evening. 

A routine questioning of a suspect had led to you getting held hostage, the man whose house you went to turning out to be the unsub. This had happened many times before in the history of the BAU, but for some reason Aaron was more on edge. There was no covert entrance into the home and the unsub refused to open up a line of communication with the agents, leaving everyone in the dark wondering what the state of your wellbeing was. Aaron had begun pacing back and forth in the tent they had set up outside the house you were being held in, hands held to his head. 

“Hotch, it’s going to be okay.” Derek stepped forward, trying to calm his superior’s nerves. 

“He’s right, Aaron.” Rossi piped in. “We’ve dealt with this before, we can fix this.”   

“No,” Hotch murmured back, “This isn’t the same. It’s not the same.” His pacing didn’t let up. “This is my fault, I should have told someone to go, too. I could have prevented this.”

The others held unspoken conversations within the glances they shared. 

“Hotch-” Emily tried to speak up, to convince him that wasn’t the case.

“NO!” He yelled suddenly, stopping in his tracks. “You don’t understand, I can’t lose them!” His voice was heavy with despair, eyes wide in anguish.

All eyes were trained on him, his coworkers at loss for words at the confession. 

“I can’t lose them…” Aaron mumbled this himself before roughly pushing out of the tent.

You smiled to yourself as you took a last glance towards the sleeping man next to you before turning back to your book. Safe to say, you were incredibly shocked when Aaron showed up on your doorstep in the dark of the night all those months ago, soaked in the rain, kissing you with a sense of urgency before you could even ask him what he was doing there. You bit your lip at the memory, but shook it out of your head to try and focus in on the jumbled words swimming in your lap. From the get-go, the two of you decided you would remain extremely professional around your coworkers, and you did just that. You stopped your teasing, for the most part at least, and made sure to never initiate physical contact on the job. Anyone that didn’t already know you were in a relationship would never have guessed. The most you allowed yourselves was sitting next to one another on the jet, just like you were doing now. 

An unintelligible murmur and huff sounding from your side drew your short-lived attention away from the delicate pages in front of you. Just as you were about to look over to Aaron and make sure he was okay, a heavy weight thumped onto your shoulder. His head. You were taken aback, a giggle slipping through your lips before you could help it. Your fingers flew up to your mouth, trying to keep yourself quiet as you noticed him shift a bit, making himself more comfortable. Sure, you’d accidentally fallen against Hotch’s shoulder in your sleep a couple times before the two of you entered a relationship, but never in a million years did you expect him to do the same to you. On the jet. In front of everyone. Of course, he couldn’t control his actions in his sleep, you reasoned. And maybe you should gently shrug him off to help retain his authority around the teasing profilers. But, this time, you fought off that thinking and gave in to your instinct. He had been so tense and strung out this entire case, you knew he needed this.

To hell with professionalism. You thought with a devilish grin, happy in your resolution. And so, you gently closed your book and slid it onto the table in front of you, trying your best to move as little as possible before leaning your head against his own and closing your eyes. With the gentle hum of the jet engines and the comforting sounds of Aaron’s breathing, you were lulled into a wonderful slumber in no time.

“Oh my God,” Emily breathed out, garnering the attention of Spencer who rested in the same group of seats as her. He looked up at her with one eye from where he was slumped over in his window seat, trying to get some shut-eye. 

“Huh?” the sleepy doctor grumbled, pushing himself a bit more upright when he noticed Emily looking at something on the other side of the jet, her face a mixture of shock and glee. 

The raven-haired agent began slapping Derek’s shoulder, who sat peacefully next to her with his eyes closed and headphones over his ears. His eyes flew open, looking over to Emily with annoyance as he took off his headphones, “What! What!”    

Immediately Emily shushed him, “Look!” she whispered, hand flying wildly in the air, eyes still unmoving. 

Derek followed her line of sight the scene before him pulling a laugh of disbelief from his lungs. “Well, well, well…” 

Emily’s hands covered her mouth in astonishment. “JJ!” she whispered over to the blonde who lay curled up on the sofa next to them. “Ugh,” she groaned quietly, unable to wake her coworker. 

“I can’t believe this,” she whispered mostly to herself, settling back in her seat, garnering a shake of Morgan’s head.

The view of their hard-headed unit chief sleeping peacefully on the shoulder of his subordinate, the latter’s head resting sweetly back on his was suddenly blacked by the side of Rossi’s body as he stuck his arm out, trying to get the best angle to immortalize this moment on camera.

“Good for them,” Morgan grinned, his voice proudly announcing his amusement as he put his headphones back over his head.

“Rossi, you better send me that!” Emily spoke up just a little bit louder, the old man looking back and motioning his phone towards her in acknowledgement.

“What? What!?” Spencer whisper-yelled, unsuccessfully craning his head above and between the seats to get a glimpse of what all the hubbub was about, “What are you guys looking at!?”    

“Penelope’s gonna flip,” Emily mumbled to herself, a teasing smile playing on her face as she looked down at the picture Rossi sent her. Without a second thought, she saved the photo onto her phone. They’re never gonna live this down.     

A/N: i hope you liked this!! i had a fun time writing it ehehe hotch is such a dilf, like an ACTUAL dilf im not even attracted to fathers but hotch?? all day, every day, baby!

[auras-moonstone]

hi i cant tell u how excited i am everytime i get your notifications 😭😭 also i know if i send a rec you'll do an amazing job so i'm requesting one rn i hope u like it!

barista y/n and ethan landry who are coworkers after class, they're always teasing eachother and there is some (light) flirting

y/n hasn't realized yet how attractive he is, until he passes behind her grabbing her waist to get on the other side of the counter to get an order.

it's not rlly a plot but GOD i'm imagining ethan in his tight little polo shirt and the apron around his waist, his front curls w a little bit of sweat onto them while he makes coffee..... i'm so weak 😭

thank you so much😭🥺 i was so excited to write this! love the concept so so much. hope you like it 🫶🏻

glitch — ethan landry

word count: 1,747

pairing: barista!ethan landry x barista!fem!reader

summary: ethan has a crush on his co-worker, and she doesn’t reciprocate that crush until one touch changes everything.

warnings: a bit suggestive, but no smut

TRUTH WAS, ETHAN HAD BEEN SIMPING HARD FOR Y/N SINCE HIS VERY FIRST DAY OF WORK. How could he not when she had that graceful smile on her face that made every customer weak in the knees? Ethan clearly wasn’t not the exception, he could work-ship the ground she walked on. But the attraction was very much one-sided.

It wasn’t that he was invisible to her, but she just didn’t see him the way he wanted to. They did flirt a bit, but while he did it with the intention of making her notice him in a romantic way, she only did it for fun, there weren’t any second intentions involved. Besides, Ethan had to watch every day the way boys would hit on her and asked for her number and how she wrote it in the palm of their hands. It broke his heart knowing she would never see him in another light.

“How many times did you have to write your number in someone’s hands today?” Ethan asked faking a laugh as they closed the cafe.

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully “Today was a chill one, so not much.”

“Have you ever gone on a date with any those guys?” he asked curiously. She never talked about going on dates, or never mentioned she was seeing or texting someone.

Y/N looked at him with surprise eyes. “Eth, please tell me you don’t believe I actually hand in my number that easily.”

“Wait what?”

The girl laughed, and punch him in the arm lightly. “You do think that! God, Ethan. I give them fake numbers. I don’t want random people texting me.”

“Can’t you just say no?” Ethan asked confused.

“I don’t want them to feel bad.” she shrugged.

“So you give them fake numbers and make some strangers let them know the pretty barista gave them a fake number?” Ethan asked incredulously.

Y/N grimaced “Okay, that sounds bad too, but I least I don’t have to see their rejected faces and they don’t get turned down in public.”

Ethan laughed, and the pressure on his chest evaporated. Was it crazy that he felt relieved by this new information? A bit. “So that means that I shouldn’t bother to ask for your number?” he acted disappointed.

Y/N chuckled. “Econ geniuses are my weakness, so I would never give you a fake number.”

Ethan blushed and shoved her “Shut up! I’m not an Econ genius.”

“Anyone who passes that dreadful class is a genius in my eyes” she said, shoving him back. “Let me give you my number, but don’t ghost me, okay?”

“I would never.”

“Good, cause you’d break my heart.” she joked, writing down her real number on his palm. Her hand felt so good on his, Ethan wished she would never let go. “There you go. Text me, we should hang out outside of work.”

“Really?” Ethan’s eyes shone and his heart started doing cartwheels.

“Of course, Eth. I actually like being around you” she smiled softly. Ethan would definitely mark that day as the best day of his life. “I can set you up with someone and we can go on a double date!” his face fell. So much for hoping. “Or, we can do something just the two of us. Now that I think about it, we don’t actually know much about the other. What a fake friendship we have.”

Friendship. That’s all he was ever going to have with her, and he needed to come in terms with it. Y/N was amazing, and he should be lucky to have her around, even if it was just as a friend.

Although, on a wednesday morning, the turning point happened. The university’s cafe was completely packed, and so they had to work ten times faster than usual. Stress filled the air of the small shop.

“Ugh, stupid machine! You had to choose this day to work like shit?” Y/N groaned, hitting the coffee machine. The coffee poured down slowly, and knowing it was going to take ages for the cup to be filled, she took one step backwards in frustration.

Ethan, who was trying to get to the other side to deliver a drink, bumped into her. Being in a rush, he almost made her lose her balance when they collided, but he grabbed her by the waist just in time to steady her. “Sorry! Are you okay?”

Y/N wanted to say yes, but she was not okay. Not because he had hurt her, but because the feeling of his big hand on her waist left her speechless. It produced a glitch on her body, a malfunction that caused her brain to not be able to utter a single syllable. She only managed to nod before setting her eyes on the coffee machine as if it were the most interesting thing on the planet.

For the rest of the stressful shift, Y/N found herself sneaking glances towards the tall boy every time she could. She couldn’t help it, her eyes diverted on their own and every time Ethan would pass by her, her whole body tensed and yearned for one more touch.

Ethan’s electric touch had been like a bug that altered her whole system. How in the world did she not notice him like that before? The way his cute polo shirt hung to him like a second skin—giving him the look of a hot nerd that Y/N was now a complete sucker for—, the way he adorably frowned in concentration as he prepared a drink, or the way his beautiful curls sticked to his forehead because of the sweat—honestly, she had no idea sweaty men could be that attractive. That’s what Ethan Landry was. He was so fucking attractive, and now that Y/N saw it, it took her lots of self-control not to push him against the counter and kiss the hell out of him.

“Tough shift, right?” Ethan said as they cleaned the now empty cafe.

Her gaze dropped down to his arms, his biceps flexed as he cleaned the counter. He was so hot. “Yeah.”

“What’s wrong with you today? You seemed off the entire day.” he asked confused.

“Nothing, I’m just really tired.” she said casually, forcing herself to look away from him.

“God, yes. My body is about to collapse.” he groaned as he stretched his arms. The action cause his shirt to ride up, showing a bit of his lower stomach.

Y/N’s grip on the cloth tightened as she felt the heat growing between her legs. I get it, I’m an idiot for not noticing how hot he is! Stop torturing me, she said to her hormones. “Same.”

Ethan laughed. “Seriously, what’s going on? Do you feel sick? You’re flushed, your face is really red. Do you have a fever? I can finish cleaning, you can go home, or wait for me and I’ll drive you.”

And he was so fucking sweet too. She wanted to rip her heart out and give it to him. “No, I’m okay.”

But Ethan didn’t believe her, so he walked towards her and cup her cheeks, making her breath hitch. “You’re not. What are you not telling me?”

Y/N sighed, he was not going to let go. “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”

“I wanted to know, now I need to know. Tell me.”

“I’m horny, okay?” she blurted out in an exasperated tone. “And it’s your fault!”

“W-what?” he took one step back, eyes widened.

“Yes, you put your hand on me today and I can’t just stop thinking about your long fingers on the curve of my waist. And you won’t believe half the things I’ve seen inside my head since. You have been driving me crazy the whole day”

Ethan’s mouth was dry. At first, he thought she was messing with him, but her shiny glossy doe eyes were telling him a different story. She wanted him. “Try me. No, actually, show me.”

And it was then when the cafe’s temperature raised, when lust filled the air and their bodies turned warm with need. Five seconds later, Y/N fastened herself to him with a stitch—she grabbed Ethan by the collar of his polo, and tugged him down to met her lips in one ferocious kiss. She walked him backwards until his lower back hit the edge of the counter. He moaned both in pain and excitement.

The girl sneaked her hand down his shirt and felt his toned abs, groaning in delight against his lips. “So fucking hot. I need you.”

Ethan grabbed her by the forearms to change positions and then turned Y/N around so that her back was against his front and her stomach pressed against the marble counter.

He bit her earlobe and then started dragging his wet lips down the skin of her neck, sucking on her sweet spot. His veiny rough hands slipped inside her shirt, exploring the skin of her stomach and then they settled on her waist, giving them a squeeze. “You liked this, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” she replied breathlessly, resting the back of her head on his chest.

“Isn’t this better though?” he asked huskily on her ear as he trailed his fingers upwards, cupping her breasts. “No bra? Lucky me.”

“Eth…” she moaned, clenching her thighs, desperate have him inside her.

Noticing that, Ethan used his right leg to spread her thighs apart. “Bend over the counter, love.” he commanded, raising her skirt up to her hips and unbuckling his belt. “Be a good girl and moan my name.”

When they left the cafe, they were both still flushed by the dirty and hot encounter they had. Ethan still couldn’t comprehend how the day ended—he had walked inside the cafe that morning, the idea of fucking Y/N didn’t even cross his mind because he knew he had no chance. And now he was leaving with his hand intertwined in hers.

Y/N, on the other hand, didn’t even want to think about her life before that shift, when she wasn’t at Ethan’s mercy, when she didn’t know he kissed slowly and with passion, that he was a very dirty talker, that his touch felt like heaven, that he loved being praised as much as he loved praising, that he made the hottest sounds and that even though he had been attractively rough during sex, he was a fucking sweetheart after it, making sure she wasn’t in pain and had a good time. Now, Y/N was all about Ethan Landry.

[beanieboosstuff]

Miso Soup - Mizu x Reader

Pairing: Mizu x Fem!Reader

Quote: Hello :) . First time posting something like this here on Tumblr, I apologize for any mistake and please be kind to me. 😭

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POV: Mizu doesn't admit her jealousy and you decide to share your Miso soup to improve her mood.

Mizu doesn't get jealous that easily. Why would she? She has never had a reason to.

She's on a path of revenge, seeking vengeance against the white men that made her this way, impure— But the way her lungs ache every time she sees you and Taigen laughing about something stupid or him blabbing his mouth off near you, just because you're friendly enough to entertain his hundredth story about a duel that he won. Is he really that entertaining to you, that he manages to make your mouth quirk up in that sickly, saccharine smile?

Can you blame her? How is Mizu supposed to not be jealous when Taigen, Taigen of all people gets to make you laugh and grin in such a sweet way? She hated it. She despised it.

Which is why—Mizu's eyebrow twitches in irritation, blue eyes that are hidden by her tinted shows following every movement and action in front of her with narrowed eyes. Watching you, again, raising your eyebrow playfully at whatever idiotic thing Taigen said to you, huffing to herself from resentment.

Her eyes were trained on you, not even noticing Ringo sending her a subtle look, before dragging off Taigen, both of them having a small, smug understanding of the situation. You don't seem to notice this, as you stop by a nearby stall to look at the intricate trinkets the merchant was selling. Before long, you feel a small, almost faint touch on your waist.

"Is he really that funny?" Mizu asks— no grumbles lowly, tilting her head as she looks into your eyes from under her kasa. She stands close to your back, her calloused hand having found it's way securely on your waist as she furrows her eyebrows. Was she... pouting?

You looked slightly at her lips when the pout was still apparent. Adorable. Turning your gaze to her eyes, a confused expression forms on your face.

“Who?” You asked as tilted your head slightly to the side, trying to decipher the question.

"Taigen." Mizu stated, almost sounding... irritated by the subject. "Is he really…that funny? He only babbles on about himself and his duels.." Mizu paused as a small frown appeared on her sharp lips.

"I do not see how you find him entertaining. He doesn't ever say anything funny, just brags. Yet you look at him and smile like that..." She stated quietly as she glared into your eyes.

“Taigen?” You asked digesting everything that the woman with the blue eyes told you. Little by little, you understood why she asked that.

“I find funny how pretentious he could be, he's definitely like every other man.” Replying by rolling your eyes smiling as you remembered how self-centered man can be.

Mizu huffed quietly to herself at the small response. She hated it, she really did. She had sworn herself to this revenge, and yet— the way you laughed when you and Taigen joked together... the way you smiled softly when he complimented you.

There was not a single moment in which you and Taigen weren't having fun or laughing and smiling, and she hated it. She hated that those pretty lips of yours were always smiling. "Is that it?" She asked, sounding almost disappointed with your answer.

Still confused by the topic of the conversation, you take a trinket from the tent and begin to observe the object as you prepare to formulate an answer.

“He's not funny, his egocentrism is.” You concluded by raising your gaze to face the tallest one next to you.

"You find his ego funny?" Mizu asked with an inquisitive tone. She had barely let go of your waist when she leaned more towards you, watching you closely and narrowing her eyebrows as if sizing your up.

She wanted to know the truth, not some sugar coated lie— but there was no need. You actually did find his ego funny, but that's not the point. "He never says anything funny, just brags and makes an ass of himself. But that makes you laugh?" She asked with a slight scowl.

Stop touching the object, for a moment you are silent digesting Mizu's persistent question. Putting the object again on the tent table you turn to Mizu, watching her face.

“It makes me laugh because all I could think about is if someone would be able to love someone like Taigen. He is definitely not interesting in a female gaze, at least not in my gaze.” You responds calmly, shrugging in the last part.

“Is this answer enough and enlightening for you?” You ask by raising your eyebrows.

"Does it not bother you that he is always trying to flirt with you?" She asked quickly, her voice sounding low and quiet. She tilted her head and continued questioning you relentlessly.

"That he's always touching you... trying to hug you or grab your hand." Mizu asked quietly as her jaw clenched from irritation, the muscles on her arm tensing up as she tried to hold herself back.

Frown your eyebrows with Mizu's question, now making sense of why they are having this conversation. You approach her slightly, noticing her irritation on her face.

“You jealous, Mizu?” Murmurs low just so she could hear. You tilt your head to the side in an attempt to see her face.

"Jealous?" She asked quietly, sounding both amused and irritated. Her blue eyes twinkled with a faint smile as she raised an eyebrow and scoffed quietly.

"No." She tried to push away the subtle flush that graced her cheeks. "I'm not jealous." Mizu paused, leaning back from you lightly as she sighed quietly.

"Taigen and his stupid flirting doesn't bother me." She stated quickly, sounding slightly irritated still.

Surprised by Mizu's stubbornness in not admitting that she felt jealous, you look to the side seeing Taigen in a Misô tent along with Ringo. Looking back at Mizu, you smiled with a false air of innocence.

“If that had bothered you, I would be willing to ask him to stop...” You started, staring at her to know her reaction. “But you say you don't mind, so neither do I.” You shrug a smile.

Mizu huffer quietly to herself as her cheeks flushed even more brightly. Her jaw was tensed, wanting to argue the point with all of her will but couldn't.

Why couldn't she just admit it? It was a stupid question, anyways. She was just a little envious that someone as handsome as Taigen liked you that much, was what she was going to tell herself.

"It doesn't bother me!" She repeated slightly louder, though it sounded more like a half-truth than anything.

You face her once again waiting for another answer, but as she was too stubborn to admit it, you just accepted that the answer Mizu gave you would be just that.

“If you say so.” Shrug deep sighing, moving away from the samurai and heading towards Ringo and Taigen, craving to eat Miso.

She watched as you walked off to Taigen and Ringo, and she wanted to follow, to argue some more about whether she was actually jealous or not. But she didn't. Instead, she just huffed quietly to herself as she looked down at the ground and closed her eyes with a small sigh.

Why was it so hard to admit that Taigen's flirting bothered her? Why did she care so much?

Still walking towards the food stall, you turn your face back in an attempt to find Mizu's eyes, but all you could see was her looking at the floor. In a heavy sigh turning forward again.

“Hey guys, already chosen the food?” You ask smiling excited as soon as you get closer to Taigen and Ringo, receiving a kind smile from both of them.

Taigen nodded briefly at you as his grin widened and he put an arm around Ringo gently. "We got the pork miso." He commented, sounding more than a little flirty. He even smiled more widely which was enough for you to catch onto the fact that he was trying to get your attention.

“You coming with us?” He asked— but this time his words were focused solely on you, as though he ignored Mizu's presence completely approaching.

You face them both and smile, agreeing. “That's sounds good. I think I want one.” You speak approaching the bowls, bending slightly to smell the soup while closing your eyes.

Taigen smirked as his eyes wandered to your exposed back, and before you could even do anything about it, he came up behind you and grabbed you by the hip, wrapping his hand around your waist like some sort of jealous boyfriend— and he held you close. He even leaned down, placing his hand in the small of your back which made the two of you even closer.

Opening your eyes widely surprised by the sudden touch on your back. You look back and see Taigen next to you smiling, frown your eyebrow confused by his act. Through your peripheral vision, you see Mizu behind him observing this whole situation.

Keeping eye contact with Mizu for a few seconds, you quickly take Taigen's hand out of your body, getting up completely. Looking at the man inside the stall and smile politely while placing your order.

Taigen looked at you in surprise as you ripped yourself away from his grasp, and he watched as you ordered politely from the person running the miso stall. He smirked awkwardly and glanced over at Ringo, probably expecting him to say something witty, but the big one just hummed in disagreement.

Mizu continued to watch the whole scene quietly, not making any reaction. She did, however, observe the fact that you refused to let Taigen touch you, as if his flirtations actually bothered you.

Taking your bowl and bowing in thanks to the man, you turn towards the three who were waiting for you. Ringo and Taigen already had their bowls in their hands, only Mizu who didn't ask for anything.

You approach Mizu, while putting a portion to your mouth, letting out a moan of satisfaction. “This tastes amazing. Here, try it.” You say rolling some noodles in the chopsticks and raising it to the height of Mizu's mouth.

Mizu hesitated when you raised the bowl above her, her eyes narrowing. She was about to brush it off and simply turn away but then suddenly her curiosity got the better of her. Mizu slowly lifted her head and cautiously opened her mouth, ready to bite into your offering. She took a small piece of the meal that you offered to her and bit into it, chewing slowly.

Seeing Mizu leaning so close to your hand made you feel a growing heat on your cheeks. Cleaning your throat by putting the chopsticks inside the bowl.

“Good right?” You whisper afraid of your voice getting weak if raise a tone.

Mizu swallowed the piece of noodles in her mouth, nodding quietly as a small smile appears on her lips.

"It is, very good..." She stated quietly— though there was no trace of any awkwardness or embarrassment from her tone of voice. Mizu's eyes glanced to the side, not willing to meet your gaze for long. There was a slight blush spreading across her cheeks, but she tried to force the color out of her.

Also looking to the side, you realize that Taigen and Ringo were already out of your field of vision, getting lost in the middle of the stall.

Turning your attention to the bowl, mixing the soup a little more. “If you want to, I can share with you my meal.” You say shrugging while still staring at the food.

Mizu didn't want to admit that she was liking the attention you were giving her, that she felt her heart completely warm. She wanted to be close to someone, but at the same time she was hesitant, scared of getting close because it always ended in pain. So in the end, she would just do the opposite, distance herself from people.

She paused for a second as she noticed the two of you were now alone by the miso stall. "I would like that..." She said quietly, her tone of voice showing a small amount of vulnerability.

“Right.” You whisper smiling, as you took her hand and guided her to a bench further away.

Without realizing it, your action implied a new direction for the relationship of the two of you. Making Mizu felt seen, felt important in some type of way.

[bipanicoverthegravessiblings]

We can have Andrew and Ashley (separately) dating reader who is a singer/guitarist in a Punk rock band, who has a somewhat cynical, indifferent personality but is quite kind when you get to know her.

But there is a problem, she is possessed by a demon and needs to kill or drink human blood to survive (just like that movie Jennifer Body feat. Megan Fox)

Friggin love Jennifer’s Body- hell yeah anon!

Ashley and Andrew Graves x Possessed Punk Rock!Reader

Andrew Graves

You met Andrew after he went to watch your band play. He came up to you after the show and started up a conversation with you.

You were the best part of the band in his personal opinion

You’d heard this all before, and like always you went along to get on his good graces

Honestly- you had full intention of eating him until he started some playful banter with you

You both just bounced off of each other so well

“Alright, so- it’s the zombie apocalypse and you have to team up with 2 other people at this bar.” Andrew was leaning against the bar, he phrased it like such a serious question, “Who you picking?”

“Hmmmm…” you hummed, turning your attention to the cluster of people, “Probably that guy-“ you nod towards one muscly frat dude chatting with his equally muscular friends, “He looks like he could punch some zombies. Dumb and fearless, ya know?”

Andrew chuckled, “Ahhh, so you’re into beefy dudes, huh?”

You gave him a deadpan stare before rolling your eyes and smirking a little, “Nah, if anything he’d be a sacrifice to the undead horde. I’m more into sickly looking emo dudes.”

A small blush painted Andrew’s cheeks, he turned to look at the crowd, “Soooo- does that mean I’m on your apocalypse team?”

“Not in the slightest,” you leant back on the bar stool, “It’s about survival, and no offense hun- but you’re usually the first to die in those kinds of movies.”

Andrew dramatically clutched his chest, giving a faux harmed expression. You playfully shove him to wipe the look off his face. He laughed a little as he sat back up in his stool.

“Alright, alright-“ you wave your hand towards him, “You can join my apocalypse team. We’ll team up to sacrifice the big dude.”

“You’re too kind.”

He was fun to talk to, what can ya say?

You ended up feasting on that frat bro after Andrew left- but not without giving you his number

You two hung out a bit after that- and Andrew became a regular at your shows

You even started inviting him to rehearsals to sit and watch

You make him a shirt with the band’s name on it as a joke- but he wears it constantly.

He’s a dork, but soon enough…he becomes your dork <3

Which is why you were nervous to tell him the truth about you

“….I’m sorry you’re what?”

You winced at his words. There- was no easy way of telling him this, but- you don’t know. It feels like the right thing to inform your partner you’re actually possessed by a demon and crave human flesh and blood.

“I’m possessed by a demon,” You turn away from his, rubbing your arm anxiously, “It- happened when I was 17. Some fucks tried to offer me as a sacrifice to a demon to make them famous and- well, now we know the reason virgins are sacrificed for demon deals.”

Andrew blinked, and a silence fell between you two. He turned away from you, his eyes fixed on the ground,

“….you know my sister is friends with a demon.”

You scrunched up your nose in confusion, turning to give him a look of “What the fuck?”

He held his hands up defensively, “Hey I don’t know! What else was I supposed to say?!”

“I don’t know!” You threw a throw pillow at him, “You’re the first person I’ve told!”

Andrew caught the pillow, placing it gingerly on his lap, “Well- I’m not a stranger to this whole…demon stuff. Can’t say I’ve dated one though…”

Your eyes widened. You looked at him in disbelief, “You- still want to date me?”

“Well- yeah.” He shrugged as if it wasn’t obvious, “You’re not gonna eat me- I’d assume at least.”

“Nah,” you gave him a small smirk, “Not enough meat on ya.”

You received a pillow to the face in response to that. You broke out into soft laughter, Andrew shortly joining in. This…went better than you thought it would.

From then on Andrew helped you with finding food. He’d scan for potential meals at your shows and direct you to them after.

He seems way too experienced in this sort of thing

Ashley Graves

That relatable moment when you’re about to feast on this guy, but this cute goth chick was about to sacrifice him to a whole other demon <3

After a show you had planned on following this couple and devouring them both- you were really hungry

Low and behold- the girl led her date into the woods and summoned a whole ass demon to take his soul

She noticed your presence as she was getting ready to move the body and-

“….sup.”

She said that as if trying to move the soulless body of a grown ass man in the middle of the woods was the most normal thing in the world. You were- dumbfounded honestly. Apparently you were staring for too long, as the woman dropped the corpse’s arms and crossed her own,

“You gonna scream- or are we going to be chill about this?” She tapped her foot as she glared at you, “Don’t make me offer another soul to my friend.”

“Ha! Good luck with that-“ you stepped out of the bushes, shaking off any leaves that stuck to your pants, “Your friend would just be confused why you’re offering them their own kind.”

She looked you up and down, her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“Yeah- look. I’m possessed- and I was following you and that boy toy of yours to have some dinner.” You pointed to the corpse between you two, “So I’ll do you a favor and get rid of this body for you.”

The woman rubbed her chin, looking down at the body. She then grinned deviously, “Hmmm…you mind if I join you?”

Your eyes widened. Was- she being serious? Did she want to chow down on this guy with you?

Apparently she could notice your confusion and shrugged, “Well I was going to eat him anyway. Was thinking of grilling him- some salt, oregano, paprika as seasoning. Help me carry him and you’ve got yourself a 5 star meal.”

This has to be the most insane woman you’ve ever met. Is this what love feels like?

“Sure thing-“ you reach down, hoisting the man’s arm around your shoulder, “Names Y/N.”

“Ashley Graves.” Ashley made no effort to help you carry the body, just leading you along as your struggled.

And thus started a beautiful friendship!

Ashley sacrifices a soul, you two eat the soulless body. Win-Win!

As you hang out more outside of your hunts, Ashley learns about your band

She’s not happy that you have friends outside of her, but she goes to your show anyway

She claimed that everyone sucked except for you

“We should just eat them,” Ashley suggested, her chin rested on your shoulder.

You glance at her before speaking, “No can do- I’m not eating my band mates.”

“Fine-“ she huffed, shoving you away from her, “Then I will!”

“Ashley- No-“ you groan, turning around to look at the currently pouting woman, “Look, I have a life outside of you ya know- don’t like it, don’t come to the shows. Nothing wrong with keeping things professional between us.”

Ashley went quiet at that. She hugged herself, turning away from you.

“…what if I don’t want to be professional?” She muttered, just loud enough for you to catch.

You blinked down at her, “You- what?”

“We get each other! I want to keep doing this, and I don’t want those ‘bandmates’ getting in the way.” She glared up at you, “You…You like me too, right?”

You did. You’d be lying if you didn’t find her general unhinged-ness hot, but you couldn’t kill your band.

“Hey, look-“ your voice went soft as you took Ashley’s hands into your own, “I…like you too Ashley, but we’re not eating my band. If I’ve been ignoring you for them, I’ll- cancel rehearsal tomorrow so we can go do something. Just us. Sound good?”

A small smile formed on Ashley’s face as she nodded, “Yeah…that’d be great.”

You may be the possessed one here, but Ashley Graves is a whole other level