#but also i have to get it out of my head onto real life. a lot of work

[meo-eiru]

Hihihiii :3 Hope you're having a great day author!

This is my first direct interaction in this website generally speaking, so what better way to start than rambling my head off about the twink slutty baby? YES. Lavi. That cute whore that's been on my mine for a good while now...I want to kiss him, want him to cuddle me so bad grrrr I want to rim his pretty ass and use it as my only life source for the rest of my mortal existence. I want to follow every single one of his instructions on how to please him while he guides me with that shit eating smug grin '>:3'. I totally see him as a power bottom, riding my strap effortlessly while he pins me down telling me how much of a pathetic virgin I am and how fortunate I am to even be touching him, how lucky I am that he's willing to teach me how to make him feel good, how he'd laugh once I'm exhausted and he keeps nonchalantly bouncing still with his endless incubi stamina...MMMM...But also, I want to hit his ribs each time he throws an annoying tauntrum, or make him whimper each time he breaks something expensive, I want to sneak into his phone and watch just all the dozens of porn he has in his gallery along with his search history, I need to make him cry so hard until we're both doubting who's the real pervert here...I NEED to peg him. I NEED to spank his cute jiggling ass until it's red and sore. I need to make him deepthroath my strap and perhaps give me head. I NEED to grope his cute small chest and nurse on his rosy nipples while he tries to make a teasing remark only to be interrupted by his own lewd moans. I NEED to watch how all that lube and cum slowly leaks out of his puffy hole with profane sounds while spreading his supple asscheeks further apart as he whines and mewls begging for more. I NEED to cuddle him from behind while I finger his thight whorish asshole, I NEEEED to give him some genuine, gentle love-making while kissing his pretty face and cooing sweet nothings into his ears while he grabs onto my neck thightly saying shamelessly how good it feels.

I want to give him goodnight kisses on the forehead, cheeks, nose, eyes, tummy and finally his soft lips. I want to feel him clinging onto me with his limbs (and tail of course) while we sleep, even better if he craddles my head on his chest. I might even forgive his murders if he promises to be a good boy with a pretty pout even though he'd probably be crossing his fingers behind his back. I want to do each other's hair and nails. I want him to listen to the music I listen to (Rabbit Hole by DECO27 would be SO him). I want to see his deadpaned and disdainful face when I tell him all my bad jokes. I want to go out with him at those aesthetic cafés and buy him everything he wants even if I won't be able to buy anything else for a while. I want us to get matching couple cheesy things. I want us to do lovey dovey stuff together and maybe a kiss that doesn't end up looking out of a hentai. A wholesome one. I want him to live on my lap. I want him to try make him wear decente clothes from time to time. I want to see his reaction once my mortal life comes to an end. (If he cries and gets depressed he'll look so pretty but if he laughs he'll also look so pretty). I want to show him off to my friends even if I know he's probably the type that types 'uwu', ':3' or 'nya~' either satirically or not. I would bear the cringe for him. I want to send him memes and reels and, overall, just hear his laugh because I'm sure it would be gorgeous just like him. <3

He literally lives rent free in my mind this is a call for help. I crave for more Lavi content.

I'm not horny. You are.

Anyway, thanks for the constant posting! I love how you write your characters and draw/paint! You're one of my favorite artists. Eat well and have a good day/night. :)

Oh my dear GOD this was a ROLLER COASTER

I don't even know where to start. Alright so first of all, this is so deliciously written omg??? You made me put Lavi on a plate and eat him I bet he'd taste like cake. The contrast between the wholesome parts and the extremely unholy parts were crazy I felt like I was in a car that randomly speeds up and down

Rabbit hole is indeed very Lavi, the animation fits him so well as well. If I knew how to make them I'd definitely draw a Lavi version. And yes he's definitely the type who'd type "uwu" and ">:3" unironically

THE DRAWINGS ARE SO CUTE AS WELL!! HE LOOKS SO ADORABLE LOOK AT HIS CUTE LITTLE FACE AND CUTE BUTT

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Nineteen

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: 18+ Smut | NSFW | Spice Level : A LOT (if you prefer to not read warnings this is your chance to scroll away, otherwise read the warnings besties xoxo)

Unprotected Sex (consensual! wrap it up at home, folks!) Oral (f&m receiving) Soft Dom/Sub vibes- they switch off, Mirrors are involved, Pet names used, Hand kink briefly, Praise Kink (YEAHHH), FOUL language, Shower scene (some smut involved in there too), and obviously- fluff, sweet, precious, wholesome things that'll wake up the butterflies.

Word Count: 5k 😈

Summary: After a day together in Salem, they have the apartment to themselves for a bit.. so why not take advantage?

Author's Note: I think you'll agree- we ALL deserved this chapter. Strap in, it's a spicy one. Get your sweat towel and have a water ready! (That's so dramatic) But for real- this chapter is sexy as hell and maybe.. there's something important in it, but that's neither here nor there 👀 Happy Thursday! 💕

To Be Alone - Hozier "Honey, when you kill the lights, and kiss my eyes, I feel like a person for a moment of my life."

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“You’re full of surprises today; why don’t you decide, babe?”

Babe– the sound of it playing on a loop in my head. 

“If you keep calling me that, I’ll give you endless attention,” I mumble against her lips. 

She presses a soft kiss into me before letting out, “Mmm, babe.” 

I hum back, “Mhmm.” 

“What about baby?” she asks sweetly. Lifting her onto the counter and standing between her legs, I let my hands sit on either side of her. 

I mumble back, “That also works.” Holding eye contact but looking down at her lips a few times. Leaning back in to leave a few pecks on her before going back to my part-time job of staring at her. 

“I already know that Captain gets you going,” she giggles. I can feel the blood rush into my face. I don’t know why it works, but it does. 

“What are you trying to do here?” I cock an eyebrow up at her as I ask. 

She pouts her lip, “Oh, are you not enjoying it, daddy?”

“God,” I groan, my head falling back for a second. “You’re asking for it now.”

“Mmm, yes, Jake, I am,” she almost sounds like she’s moaning. If I weren’t trying to keep it together, I’m pretty sure my eyes would have rolled into the back of my head at that. 

Grabbing the edges of my shirt, she pulled me in, and her lips felt desperate. Her teeth lightly tugged at my bottom lip, and I sighed at the feeling. She lets her arms drape over my shoulders, relishing in the feeling of her lips on mine. The way she goes out of her way to kiss my top lip before smiling into me. 

“Hey, you,” I whisper, letting my eyes wander to hers. 

Her sweet smile as we make eye contact, “Hi, handsome.” 

Her hands found their place, holding my jaw, pressing kiss after kiss into me. I pull her hips into me, letting her legs wrap around my waist as I lift her off the counter. 

Struggling to walk straight, I push my bedroom door open with my foot, kicking it shut behind me. Her legs start to slide down me, so I help her stand back up. She spins us around, backing me up to the edge of the bed. She lightly pushed my chest once my legs hit my bed frame, I quickly sat down for her. She grabs my shoulders and straddles my lap; I look up at her while she hovers above me.  Letting her take control is the most lethal thing for me.

She finally brings her face back down to mine; something about how she’s kissing me makes my heart flutter.

 Her hands slid under my shirt, pushing it up. I pull it off quickly, watching her eyes drop to my chest before her hands slowly creep up my stomach until her arms are around my neck. The lower she sits on me, the further up her skirt goes. I tug on the bottom so she sits up, unzipping the side to easily slide it off.

She sits back on my lap with just her tights covering her legs; I can see the dainty black thong she has on underneath, and something about being able to see it through the tights is making me sweat. 

The feeling of her lips against my throat as her hands unbuttoned my pants. The sound of my zipper felt loud as hell in the moment. 

“Stand up for me,” I finally tell her. 

I slide off my pants, tossing them towards my closet. Standing up with her in front of me, I grab the hem of her sweater, pull it over her head, and set it behind me on the bed. I sit on the end of my bed, pulling her towards me but spinning her to face the mirror. My hands hold her hips; I bring her down onto my lap. Pressing kisses into her shoulder. I slide my hands around her, hugging her, feeling her skin against mine. She runs her hands up my arms a little and tilts her head into mine. 

I keep one arm wrapped around her waist and move the other to slide down her thigh. Dancing my fingers along the inside of her leg, pulling them apart. Hooking her knee over mine, spreading her open. I look up into the mirror, meeting her stare. 

The hand holding her waist slid up, toying with the edge of her bra. Tugging it down slightly, watching the way her breast drops subtly. The small glimmer of her piercing makes my cock twitch underneath her. Gently, my fingers roll her already peaked nipple between them. Her head dropped back onto my shoulder at the feeling. 

I undo the clasp of her bra, watching the straps immediately slide down her arms a little. She pulls it off, letting it fall to the floor. Looking back into the mirror, all that’s left are the tights and her thong. We quietly hold eye contact through the mirror as I slide one of my hands up her thigh. 

“Watch how pretty you look when I touch you,” I whisper to her as I drag my fingers up the inside of her thigh, letting them slide in between her legs. She’s already trying to shift at the small amount of contact, so I add pressure as I pull my hand up the center of her. I linger over that sweet, sensitive spot that makes her squirm.

“Mmm, babe,” sneaks out of her. “Please.”

Teasing her a little by just adding a bit of pressure through her tights, slowly working her clit. I watch her in the mirror, her nipples peaked, her hands unsure of what to do right now. My free hand finds one of hers, holding it as my arm lays across her waist. 

She grabs my hand and moves it to her stomach, lifting the fabric of her thong slightly and guiding me to where she wants me. Feeling how wet she already is, sweet girl. 

“Jacob,” she whines. “I need you.”

The sweetest sound I could hear. 

“This isn’t enough?” I tease. I watched her reaction in the mirror but felt her hand tighten around mine. 

Pouting, she looks at me, “Baby.”

I sunk my middle finger into her, getting a delicious little moan out of her. I was curling it up, finding the right spot, and listening to how wet she got from it. Her breathing getting a bit louder. The way she’s shifting against me, it’s hard to deny the state I’m in. The hottest girl I’ve ever been with, writhing on my lap because of what my hand is doing– yes, I’m hard. 

I slow my hand down just to see what happens; her mouth drops open for a second as she looks at me. 

“I’ll let you come,” I mumble into her ear. “Just not yet.” 

My middle and ring finger slid into her, pulling a gasp out of her. I start pumping them into her quickly, curling them up and making her moan louder. Feeling her unravel in my lap, she’s so hot, Jesus Christ. 

I can feel her starting to flutter around me, and I lean into her ear again. “Almost, sweet girl.” 

She just whines in response. 

Letting go of her hand, I slide it down, rubbing her clit quickly. Her mouth is hung open, and her eyes are shut; I can feel how close she is.

“Open your eyes, hun,” I whisper. “Come for me.” 

Her eyes lock with mine when she gasps; I can feel her tighten around my fingers. Her string of ‘oh fuck’ and ‘yes baby’s ringing in the air. 

She slumps back against me once she’s come down, her body warm against me. I held her close for a minute, and she pressed her face under my chin. Leaving little kisses along my jaw. 

She whispers, “Wanna see how pretty I look with your cock in my mouth?” 

“Holy shit, Char,” comes out faster than I can think. She’s moving off my lap before I can say anything else, sitting on her knees in front of me. Her hands run up my thighs as she looks up at me. I could come just from the look in her eyes.

She hooks her fingers into the waistband of my boxers, pulling them down far enough for my cock to be freed. Quickly wrapping her lips around me, feeling her tongue swirl around, and I can’t stop the moans from coming out. 

I feel her hand slide up my chest for a second; she leaves it on my shoulder when she pulls back from me. 

Tapping my lip lightly, she looks up at me with those green eyes and whispers, “Open, baby.” My mouth falls open at her request; she slides two of her fingers into my mouth, and without hesitation, my lips close around them. Letting my tongue dance around them for a moment while she watched me, my breathing getting heavier. I didn’t realize that I- oh. 

“So good for me,” she whispers, pulling her hand back. My mouth hangs slightly open as she drags her finger down my bottom lip, her stare straight into my soul as she does it. I can feel the blood trying to decide if it wants to show up in my face or go straight to my cock, from her praise. Please keep telling me how good I am. Wrapping that hand around me, stroking a few times before letting her mouth sink back down onto me. 

I look into the mirror, watching the way her head and hand are moving. The fact that her tights are sheer is killing me because I can see her entire ass in the mirror. Carefully gathered all of her hair, brushed it away from her face, and wrapped it around my fist. The visual only makes it worse. 

She slowly takes more into her mouth; the feeling of her lips around me has me falling apart already. She lets herself sit like that for a second, lingering where I can feel her slight exhale against my stomach before her tongue starts to swirl around me a bit. Oh, fuck me. 

I whisper, “I don’t wanna come like this, hun.”

She pulls back, still gently stroking me as she looks up at me. 

“I have an idea,” she says. Standing in front of me, she slides her tights and thong down her legs and drops them on the floor next to her. “Scoot back a little, babe.”

I join her, pulling my boxers the rest of the way off. Moving myself back a little for her. 

She starts to straddle my lap again, still facing the mirror. Is she about to.. 

“Do you want me to..” I ask, pointing to my nightstand. 

“No, it’s okay,” she whispers back, lining me up with her as she sinks down onto me. My head falls back at the feeling. I keep myself propped up with one arm, but I move one hand onto her hip, holding on. She slowly lifts herself up and, just as slowly, lowers herself back down. We both sound like a mess at the moment. Her speed picks up as she bounces on me; my grip on her tightens. 

“God, baby,” she moans.

Without thinking, I groan, “Feels so good.” 

Her hands moving to my legs, she leans forward a little, and starts rolling her hips against me. The sound of her moans changed when she switched. Her mouth fell open as she kept rocking her hips slowly; I must be hitting the right spot. 

 “Use me, Char,” I mumbled, watching her writhe in pleasure. Watching the way her ass moves against me, softly grabbing at it. Her sweet face, her eyebrows pulled together as she moaned at the sensation.  

Her legs start to shake after a few minutes. I wrap my arms around her, standing up, bringing her with me. I moved us to the side of my bed before whispering in her ear, “Bend over for me?”

She immediately leans down, arching her back and wiggling her ass against me. Looking over, she can definitely still see the mirror.

I don’t know what came over me when I told her, “Eyes on me, honey.” 

She turns her head to the mirror, watching as I push back into her. Her mouth instantly opens at the feeling. My hands held her as I started to rock my hips into her hard and fast. I can feel her stare, and the feeling from it causes a smirk to lace my lips as I glance back over at her. Her foul moans rang throughout the room. 

“Do you like to watch while I fuck you?” I ask her. I don’t know where this is coming from.

She falls apart at the question, squeaking a small ‘yes.’

“Jake, you’re so– good, oh my god,” she whimpers out as I’m relentlessly thrusting into her. Reaching my hand down, rolling her clit between my fingers, watching her grip the comforter. Switching to tight, fast circles over it, she’s practically dripping for me and almost screaming my name at the feeling. 

I can’t come yet. I pull out of her, letting my fingers take over. She backs herself up, giving me better access to her. Leaning down and pressing a few messy kisses to each cheek before I dove in. Licking a long wide stripe up from her clit, shit, she’s so wet. My fingers are still pumping into her slowly, my tongue laps at her, and I want nothing more than to keep hearing my name fall out of her pretty mouth. 

I feel her tap my arm a few times, so I pull back, and she just falls over. Wrapping my arms around her legs, pulling her to the edge of the bed as I kneel. I keep my arms around her thighs, holding her up and placing a kiss against them before diving back in. 

I look up at her, seeing her eyes fixed on us in the mirror. Her hands knit themselves into my hair as my tongue practically spelled her name against her. It’s not long before her hips are trying to roll against my tongue, and who am I to stop her? My breathing shallow as she rides my face, waiting for her jaw to drop. Her grip on my hair tightens as it finally happens, lapping at her clit like my life depends on it and feeling her legs go limp in my arms as I’m setting her down. 

She crawls up to the pillows, flopping down with a few quiet giggles. Reaching out to me to join her. I take her in as I do, looking at ALL of her. This is the first time we’ve both been actually undressed. Every other time has been so heated that we don’t even care, so we’ve never taken the time to get this far. 

“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper to her, pulling her face to mine for a kiss. The flush of her cheeks mixed with the sparkle in her eyes, making my heart pound. 

She pulls back, glancing down before bringing her eyes back to mine, “You’re not so bad yourself.” Making us laugh into each other; I press my lips into hers as she giggles against me. I could do this forever.

I nudge her legs apart, moving in between them but never breaking the kiss. Making myself comfortable laying against her, keeping myself propped up on my elbows so I don’t crush her. We lay there pressing kiss after kiss into each other, her hands holding the sides of my throat, fingertips pressing into me harder with each kiss. 

When she starts shifting her hips against me, I push myself up, missing the feeling of her lips on mine instantly. 

“Look at me, honey,” I tell her, hovering over her. The moment her eyes meet mine, it feels like time has slowed. Lining myself up with her, but keeping eye contact this time. We’ve never done this. I start to push myself into her as my heart pounds, and her mouth opens slightly at the feeling; this feels different. Letting myself drop back down onto my elbows, my hands cradling her head. I start to move my hips into her, slow, crawling even. Our eyes stay locked on each other; why am I nervous?  Her hands grabbed the sides of my face, looking at me intently before pulling me into her. The moment I bottom out in her, a groan escapes me. 

Our mouths kept the same pace, slowly working against each other, letting out little moans into the kiss. The amount of contact is overwhelming, but I almost wish we were closer. Her sweet moans into my mouth, making my head spin. My hips stay at a slower pace; the feeling is indescribable but only lasts for a minute until she breaks the silence. 

“Mmm, baby,” she whispers into me. “Please, fuck me harder.”

I swear my cock got harder when she said it, if that was even possible at this point. 

I push myself up, pulling one of her legs up against my chest. Leaving a few small kisses against her ankle before tightening my grip around her thigh, driving myself into her. She loudly moans at the feeling, which only fuels me more. I wrap my arm underneath her, moving us further up the bed; I look down at her. I grab her hand, moving it up to grab the headboard.

“Hold on for me, hun,” I tell her. Leaning forward, I keep her leg against me, pushing myself into her, deep. Taking a breath before I start pounding into her. I watch as she falls apart; the sounds coming from her pretty mouth are foul. I try moving a bit faster, and her breathing picks up. 

“You're so good, baby,” she praises me. “Please, don’t stop.” 

I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to. Slamming my hips into her, listening to the sounds coming from her, the visual of her tits bouncing as I do. Fuck.

“Louder for me, honey,” I coo into her ear. “Let the neighbors know how good it is.” 

Earning a loud moan when I push myself all the way into her quickly. I moved my hand to play with her clit, rubbing fast little circles around it; she was instantly more wet. 

“Oh my god,” she practically yells. Her voice is even louder when she lets out, “Jacob– yes, OH, oh my god, don’t stop.” 

I lean down, hovering over her ear, murmuring, “That’s my girl.” Seeing the goosebumps flood her skin at the comment.

“Yeah, you like that?” I ask quietly, slowing my hips for a minute and sliding my hand into hers. 

She just nods quickly, “Yes, say it again.”

“Oohhh,” I coo into her ear. “My girl needs me to talk her through it, huh?” 

Her free hand tangles itself into my hair as she moans at my voice. Fuck me, that’s hot. My hips rock into her slowly, and I hold her gaze; it feels intimate. 

“Tell me what you want,” I mumble to her. She moans in response, her eyebrows pulling together slightly, and her grip on my hand tightens. 

She finally lets out a small “you.” 

“You have me,” I tell her. She looks like she’s holding something back, “Use your words, honey.” 

“Want you to come with me,” she moans. 

The thought alone got me closer; I looked down at her. She’s so beautiful. I start thrusting into her a little faster, listening to her slowly unravel as I do. Her hands grab my shoulders and pull me back down to her; her moans are getting louder as I snap my hips a little harder. 

“I’m close,” falls out of my mouth. “Where should I..?”

Her eyes lit up as she stared at me. I can see her sitting on the edge of her orgasm with the way her mouth is just slightly open; she has to be right there.

“Come in me, baby,” she whispers, her eyes fixed on mine. “I wanna feel you.” Oh my god. 

I groan at her comments, feeling my cock start to twitch and my hips struggling to keep pace. I lean in, kissing her as my orgasm starts to hit. She lets out a delicious moan as I feel her tighten around me, and she whimpers into me, “Oh- Jacob.” 

Kissing her as we both finished felt surreal, feeling her hands hold onto me, pulling me closer to her like we weren’t already an inch away from each other. The mix of our moans in a sweet symphony. I had never finished in someone like that, and now I just want to only sleep with her if this is what my life could be. 

  I lean down, kissing her sweetly a few times. Peppering her face with little pecks as we lay there in a light layer of sweat. The little glimmer in her eyes as we’re still pressed together, her soft little laugh while she’s moving a piece of hair that’s sticking to my face. Oh, honey. 

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After a few minutes of her laughing at me trying to help her, we managed to make it to the bathroom. Thankfully, we still have a little bit before we have to worry about Josh coming home. I turned on the shower before grabbing the hair tie on the counter. I start to pull my hair up, staring at myself in the mirror as I do, becoming incredibly aware of how we’re both just.. naked. Why am I .. comfortable with this?  I glance over at her as I’m shifting the bun around on the top of my head to loosen it a little. The look in her eyes is hard to read, but she’s just watching me quietly. Not that I shouldn’t be, I mean.. We’ve slept together enough. This just feels a lot more vulnerable, and it just .. feels normal. 

I let her step into the shower first, her hand in mine for support. She practically pulls me in behind her, tucking herself into me. We just stand there for a minute, enjoying the warmth of the water. 

She tiptoes herself in a circle under the water, giggling as she does. I grab the body wash, pouring a fair amount into my hand, watching her spin around carefully a few times. 

“Here, let me help you,” I laugh, rubbing my hands quickly up and down her arms. Sliding the soap across her collarbones and letting both hands trail down to her tits really taking my time. I graze my thumbs over her piercings, smirking at her when I do. 

“Jacob cut it out,” she laughs, grabbing my hands and pulling them away. She turns around, and I massage her shoulders for a second. She lets out a little sigh at the feeling, letting my hands slowly work their way down her back. As soon as I hit her lower back, I couldn’t restrain myself any longer. Giggling as I glide my hands over her ass, knowing she’s probably going to yell at me again. 

“You need to focus, babe,” she scolds me; a laugh was in there, so she doesn’t entirely hate it. 

“You’re right,” I tell her, but not without slapping her ass. 

She whips around with her jaw dropped, “You little shit.” She grabs my arms, making us switch spots so I can be under the water for a minute. Taking her turn by pouring the body wash directly onto my chest, and it’s cold as hell. Frantically rubbing it all over me, I just laugh while she does. She takes her time scrubbing my arms, thoroughly coating them in soap and dragging them down to my hands. God, she’s so fucking cute. 

She grabs my shoulders, forcing me to turn around. Her hands are still moving quickly as she scrubs little circles down my back. I hear her little giggle before she fully grabs my ass, squeezing it a few times. I turn just enough for water to run over my shoulder, washing away the soap as she’s having her fun. 

“Hey now,” I mumble, reaching back and grabbing her hands, pulling them around me.  

Her forehead leans against me, her hands running up and down my chest. She slides her hands dangerously low. Lord, help me. 

“Hun,” I let out, probably sounding a bit concerned. Her hand was eerily close to my cock, and I was fighting every demon not to get hard. 

She kisses the base of my neck, “What?” her taunting little tone laces it. The sigh that falls out of my body when she wraps her hand around me, gently stroking me as I get harder. 

“What are you–” I start, but losing my breath when she picks up her pace. “Char–” 

She lets go, grabbing my hips to turn me back to her, but her hand wraps back around me quickly. Stepping closer, she leans up to kiss me, her hand moving down the length of my cock at a painfully slow pace. 

“I just think you deserve a little more,” She says against my lips. Her thumb rubbed over the tip of my cock, making me moan into her. “Feel good, baby?” She moves back a little, pulling my hips with her. 

‘Mhm’ slips out of me; she can’t be real. Her lips found their place back on mine; my mind wandered to the night I got off to the thought of her. Now she’s here, in the shower with me, and she started this. The feeling of her hand on me, the taste of her on my lips, her fucking voice. Little whimpers are escaping me left and right; I can feel her smiling into me over it. Despite the fact we just had sex, great sex, mind you, I’m already close. Something about her is just so different. 

She leans into my ear, whispering, “Come for me, Captain.” 

I feel my orgasm start to release, her lips pressing into mine again as I do. This girl is my dream, holy shit. She slowly works me through it, giggling once she looks down. I scoot out of the way so she can clean herself off, kissing the side of her head while she does. 

I get out first, holding out a towel for her as she shuts the water off. Wrapping herself up, I quickly dry myself off. She scoots herself closer to me, snuggling herself against my chest. I throw my arms around her, my towel almost covering the two of us together. 

“It’s cold out here,” she giggles into me. Feeling her body shiver against me. I swear everything she does makes my heart feel weird. 

“I’ll keep you warm, don’t worry,” I mumble to her, her face tucked into my neck as I rub my hands over her arms and back to warm her up again. 

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After some mild convincing, we made it back into my room. I watch as she slides her panties up her legs, leaving minimal room for the imagination with the way they frame her ass perfectly. I just pull on some boxers because, at this point, I feel like she would laugh at me if I tried to be any more covered than that.  She comes back over, crawling into bed with me. 

“You’re just gonna.. sleep like this?” I ask, looking at her bare chest as she comes closer. 

Her arm slides up my chest as she makes herself comfortable against me, “Mhm. Is that okay?” 

“Hun, I will never pass up the opportunity— I just wasn’t expecting it.” 

She draws little shapes on my chest when she timidly lets out, “Just wanna feel extra close, I don’t know.” 

“Well, in that case,” I turned towards her,  grabbing one of her legs and pulling her as close to me as possible. Her leg drapes over my hip, and I slide one of mine between hers. Her head laying against my bicep, both of her dainty little hands holding my free one. I can practically feel her heart beating with how intertwined we are. 

She leans forward, kissing me a few times before settling back into her spot. Pressing lazy kisses against my arm every so often, she glances up at me.

“This is nice,” she whispers. “Thank you for everything today, baby.”

Her little smile makes me nervous, pulling her hands up and littering her knuckles with little kisses as my heart feels like it’s falling out of my body. 

“Of course,” I whisper back. 

She moves closer, somehow, and tucking her face back into my neck with her chest pressed against mine. My arm gently wraps around her shoulders, keeping her close. I can feel her breathing against my skin and how she’s smiling into me. I can feel her eyelashes brush against me when she blinks. The scent of my body wash on her ignited a little fire in my stomach. She snaked her arm around me, holding onto my shoulder, mindlessly leaving little comforting scratches as we lay there when I felt her lips press into the side of my throat. 

The chills sent through my body at that moment; I couldn’t describe the level of bliss I felt like I was in. Being able to hold her like this, the fact she’s enjoying it enough to keep tangling us into each other even further. I wanted nothing more than to lie here, listening to her breathe and feel her skin on mine. She’s so warm against me. My mind wanders as she aimlessly plays with my hair, and letting eyes fall shut. 

My mind is racing with thoughts about her and how we’re in this position. But it suddenly feels like everything comes to a screeching halt, all the noise stops, and my heart pounds as it sits there, front and center in my mind— 

 I think I love her. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter Eighteen

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[ask-me-later23]

Spencer Reid X Reader Fluff

In which a certain doctor asks you out for halloween weekend.

“Those who can dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.” 

-Edgar Allan Poe.

There is a certain comfort that can be found in books. The written word creates an alternate reality in which your worries and stress can be forgotten. Even though physically, all you can see are letters on a page, you find friendship among the characters, wonder among the civilizations, and a home in a theoretical land that you will never get to touch. 

There is a structure within novels. Every story has a start and end point, a climax and a resolution. Even when times get tough and your heart gets shattered, you know there is a happy ending. Perhaps this is why they draw you in. 

A happy ending is a concept that keeps you moving. It keeps you standing, even when life stands on your doorstep threatening to blow your house down. 

It made sense that you would grow up to work in a library. When literary icons become easier to relate to and connect with than real people, it makes sense that you would surround yourself with them all day. 

What you never expected, however, was that these icons would one day push you to make connections with another broken soul, another person who believed that books were easier to bond with than people. 

It started four years ago…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello the-” you jumped at the sudden appearance of the man next to you, dropping the pile of books you were sorting back onto the shelves.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. Let me help.” He immediately bent down to retrieve the fallen treasures. However, you were already bending down, causing you both to bump heads. 

“Jesus-”

“I am so sorry-” You both spoke at the same time, clutching your heads. You quickly gathered the books and set them aside, turning towards the stranger and giving him your full attention. 

He seemed taken aback, a slight tinge of color in his cheeks. He opened his mouth a few times, as if he were about to say something, only to quickly shut it again. 

“What can I help you with?”

This seemed to snap him out of his daze, he immediately lowered his eyes and pulled out a slip of crumpled paper.

“Yes. I was looking for this book. I tried finding it myself but it wasn’t in the spot it should be. I’m filling in for a lecture today and it was something I was looking into for the class. I know it’s extremely last minute, but I just found out I was even going to be able to attend this lecture. My schedule is normally far too busy to allow myself the free time to be able to do so, but somehow I was able to clear some space for it. If you could check to see if you still have it that would be great, but I also now see that you’re busy so I can just go ask someone else. I’m sorry I really shouldn’t have bothered you. Now I’m just taking up more of your time by explaining things that you probably didn’t even need to know…”

Your eyes widen at the sudden information dump this stranger had just landed on you. Before even giving you the chance to speak he moved to walk away and find another associate to ask for help. Lunging forward, you grabbed the sleeve to his sweater, noticing the way the cuffs looked worn out and stretched, as if he had been pulling on them.

“Come to the front with me and we can look into it.” Without giving him an opportunity to deny your services, you lead him towards the front desk, not letting go of his sweater. Surprisingly, he let you lead him forward. 

You finally released him, leaving him staring at the newly stretched area that matches the cuffs. You typed aggressively on the decades old keyboard as he told you the name of the book he was looking for. 

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news here but it does look like someone checked it out less than an hour ago.” You glance up at him, not missing the slightly disappointed look on his face. 

Something about that look irks you, you don’t even know this guy’s name but you feel the urge to help him.

“Oh…okay. That’s okay. Thank you anyways, I’m sorry I wasted your tim-”

“I have a spare copy in my apartment if you need one. Wait… not that I’m inviting you into my apartment… I just meant that I could go grab it for you if you need a copy. I understand being in a time crunch, you would be surprised at the amount of last minute events I have had to accommodate while working here,” You add as you pick your nails nervously, watching his face for a reaction. 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, you’re in the middle of work. It’s okay, really,” He murmurs. You notice he starts tugging on his cuffs.

You ignore his protests, “What time is the lecture? I get off in 20 minutes and can meet you on campus. Before you can argue again, I’ve already decided I’m doing this. You’ll find I can be very hard to sway.”

His cheeks turn a lovely rosy shade again as he stutters out, “It starts at 6, but I was planning on getting there at 5 to give myself time to prepare.”

Hearing exactly what you needed too, you raise your hand across the desk. “I’ll meet you in the library then.”

He hesitates, staring at your outstretched hand. Quietly, he adds, “Handshakes are extremely unsanitary. There is an extremely high level of pathogens passed during them. It would actually be safer to kiss someone rather than shake their hand.”

After realizing what he said you both are glancing at your feet. You can feel your cheeks warming and are sure his are the same. 

As if realizing his error he attempts to correct himself, stuttering, “I- I only meant that-”

“I know what you meant. It's okay.” You let out a nervous chuckle. 

“I have to go. I’ll, um, I’ll meet you there.” He rushes out the door before you get a chance to catch this stranger's name. Laughing to yourself at this odd encounter, you return to your forgotten friends and resume placing them on the shelves. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Georgetown University library was always one of your favorites. Even the dark corners that would normally scare people away offered you a sense of comfort that you couldn’t deny.

Even with the oddness of the day, you somehow found yourself incredibly calm at the idea of meeting a somewhat stranger, whose name you didn’t even know, to hand over a book you have spent countless hours scanning, annotating and highlighting the contents of. 

You find said stranger wandering in between some of the shelves, looking closely at the spines in front of him. 

Taking a moment to watch him, you noticed his long hair that he kept tucked behind his ears, not missing the lock that kept falling into his face. He repeatedly tucked it back, the action looking so mindless it is clear it's something he does often. He was wearing converse, not matching the formal look of the rest of his attire. It seemed out of place, yet somehow fit together. As he examined a book from the shelf, you watched him flip through so quickly you thought he was just skimming, only to realize the intense stare he held proving he was deeply invested in whatever it was. It was a feeling you were all too familiar with, getting lost in another world hidden between the pages.

Smiling, you walked over quietly, not wanting to disturb his focus. You stopped in front of him, still somehow unable to notice you he goes to flip the next page.

“Hello there.”

This startles him, you giggle slightly as he drops the book he was holding. Both reaching down to pick up the fallen literature, you bump heads.

“Wow this situation seems oddly familiar,” you laughed as he grabbed the book from the ground. When he stands back up his cheeks are flushed again and he quickly places the book back in its designated spot on the shelf. 

“I- um… So you were able to find the book?” He stuttered out, swallowing roughly.

“All yours professor.” You pulled the item out of your bag, offering it to him hesitantly.

“I’m not an actual professor. I actually work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico. I’m just here as a guest speaker. It’s something I do for fun when I have the time.” He gently takes the book out of your hands, fingers being careful not to brush yours as he takes it. 

“So Agent?”

“Doctor.”

“Doctor…?”

He stares at you for a few minutes with his eyebrows pushed together, titling his head.

“Nevermind.” You giggled. “So you still have about forty minutes to kill before your lecture. How would you feel about a pre-speech coffee?” You drop your gaze to your shoes once more, pulling at the loose thread on your sweater.

“That sounds great actually.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You never would have thought that he was a 1% coffee 99% sugar kind of guy, but here you were watching the not-so-strange-stranger dump 10 packets of sugar into his coffee. Your lip formed a hard line and your eyebrows were attempting to shoot for the stars as you watched him take a sip and not throw up from the unholy amount of sweetness that he had concocted. 

“Are you okay?” He asks. The man creased his eyebrows looking at you, searching your face for signs of illness. 

“Would you like some coffee with that sugar?” You chuckled.

His eyebrows pushed together, a look of concern forming until you pointed to his coffee cup. His mouth morphed into an “O” shape and he looked down as you both moved towards the area he was speaking at. 

“I like it sweet,” he whispered. 

“Sweet would be an understatement.” You laughed at his reaction.

“You’re drinking black coffee,” He said it like a statement, a tone of finality following his words.

“I prefer black.” 

“Loneliness is a black coffee and late night television; solitude is herb tea and soft music,” he muttered as you approached the door.

“Solitude, quality solitude, is an assertion of self-worth, because only in the stillness can we hear our own unique voices. Pearl Cleage,” you finished his quote.

He glanced sideways at you, eyes wide. “I- uh-” 

“I work in a library and have a PhD. in English literature. I can recognize quotes from my icons doctor.” You smirk as he stumbles over his feet.

Before he is able to continue you both arrive at the classroom he will be presenting in. He turns to you, still not quite meeting your eyes and pulls on his sweater again.

“Thank you for the book…and the coffee. I'll-uh be sure to return it to the library.”

You go to agree but the words die on your lips. Somehow the idea of today’s strange events ending unsettles you. You could easily leave and let him return the book to your workplace. He knows where it is clearly. But without even a name you are unsure you will ever see him again. Telling yourself it is out of concern for your belongings, you speak.

“Actually, I was thinking about sticking around and listening in…if that's okay?” Now it is your turn to stare anywhere but his face. “That way I can make sure it doesn’t get lost in the library's books, you know?”

He hesitates for a moment and opens his mouth to speak, thinking better of it he simply offers a smile and nods, rushing inside to get set up. You follow a group of students inside and find a seat, waiting to see the action.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the last student clears out you return from your daze you had found yourself in while listening to the man’s lecture. You found yourself admiring his nervous tics and the way he paced the front as he discussed behavioral analysis and criminology. You also didn’t miss the way his eyes somehow found yours, as if making sure you were still there, every so often. It was an interesting lecture, but perhaps the most interesting part about all of this was that you finally knew the stranger’s name.

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

He glanced up from his belongings that he was quickly packing up, confused, “what?”

“I finally learned your name,” you smiled. 

He returned the smile. It was genuine and broad, transforming his entire face. Crinkles formed around his eyes and a dimple complimented the upturned direction of his lips. As if realizing you were staring at his lips you cleared your throat and tried to ignore the heat in your cheeks. 

“Here’s your book back…thank you.” He extended the subject of today’s debacle. Hesitantly, you took it, although this time you noticed your fingers brush against one another and shockingly, he didn’t immediately pull away. Checking your watch you quickly put the book back in your bag and looked back at him. 

“I have to get going, it's getting a little late, but thank you for the lecture and the entertainment,” offering him the most sincere smile you could pull off you added, “Spencer.”

With that, you turned and began walking out the room but not before you heard him protest.

“Hey, wait. You never gave me your name either.”

Not stopping, just casting a glance over your shoulder, you offered back, “You’re a behavior analyst who works for the FBI, I’m sure you can figure it out.” Walking out the door you leave the doctor, who for once looked at a loss for words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been four years since then. Spencer began frequenting the library shortly after, finding excuses to come in and read something new. Somewhere along the way he developed a knack for bringing you coffee as well. A trade-off of sorts, coffee for books and company. You couldn’t deny the friendship you both had, or how much it meant to you both. 

Walking around the pumpkin and ghost covered library you hummed a happy tune. Halloween was always your favorite time of year. The temperature dropped and spirits were raised as everyone anticipated ideas for costumes, how much candy they would get, or what parties they planned on attending. For you, however, it was the aesthetic of it all. The changing of the leaves, the pumpkin carving, the pumpkin spice everything. You sometimes find yourself wanting to share it all with someone.

Spencer walks in just then, interrupting your thoughts with promises of caffeine. You drop your task at hand and meet him halfway.

“Please tell me you have brought coffee, otherwise I might just die on the spot Spencer.” You take the cup from him as he chuckles slightly, seeming to be in a good mood today. Halloween was something the two of you both shared a love for.

“You do know the average human is only supposed to consume four cups of coffee a day? I’m assuming this will be at least your sixth.” He gives you a pointed look with his eyebrows raised expectedly. “But yes, there is caffeine in there.”

You smile triumphantly and take a sip, “and this is why you are my favorite professor-slash-agent-slash-doctor there ever was.” 

His cheeks turn pink and he looks down. Giggling at his reaction, you nudge his foot.

“So what brings you here today doc?”

“You know, the origins of halloween are incredibly fascinating, it’s one of the most popular holidays, only rivaled by Christmas. It’s a sort of melting pot for a lot of different traditions from different cultures, but I always liked the idea that the Celtics and Europeans believed it was the one night a year that ghosts and spirits could walk the Earth again. This was what started the tradition of wearing costumes and masks, so that people couldn’t be recognized by the ghosts.”

You did know all of this, but you weren’t going to kill his mood like that, so instead you simply smiled along. “And here I thought halloween was all pumpkins and spice and everything nice.”

His attention seemed elsewhere for a minute, he gave a sad smile and turned back to face you, “not always.”

“Don’t worry doc,” you nudge him slightly. “I’ll protect you from the ghosts and goblins.”

He stares at you for a moment, opening his mouth as if he wanted to say something. You notice a slight pink color creep up his neck and he looks down before speaking again.

“So what are your Halloween weekend plans?”

“Still toying with a few ideas. There's always so much going on, it’s hard to choose to be honest.” You returned to your desk, sorting through a stack of discarded books. “What about you?”

You notice he hesitates, toying with the sleeves on his shirt. The pink has turned into a lovely shade of crimson that has you holding back a smile before he pushes forward, “There is actually a reenactment showing the nineteenth century phantasmagoria that I was looking into. It was invented in France and was basically a pre-cinema projected ghost show in which the showman attempted to spook the audience using science magic. I- I, uh, I have an extra ticket if maybe you’d want to possibly come with me. If you aren’t busy, but you also said you were thinking about doing something so it’s okay if you say no.”

You drop the book you were holding with a very loud thud on your desk. “Shut. up.”

Spencer finally looks up confused, you interrupt him by grabbing your purse from behind you, pulling out two tickets. You show them off with a laugh.

“I have an extra ticket to the Edgar Allen Poe shadow puppet show. I was going to ask you if you wanted to come with me. I didn’t know anyone else that would be interested in old man, creepy poetry shadow puppets.”

He immediately looks relieved. “We could always do both? They’re at separate times. Maybe even take a break for some dinner? If you want too…obviously you don’t have too.”

“Spencer Reid, are you asking me out on a date?” You covered the feeling of your cheeks heating up with a smirk, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. Spencer was by no means unattractive, and at this point you had both definitely gotten to know each other on a pretty familiar level. You both had even hung out outside of the library before. But taking that next step had never been something either of you had even talked about. 

“I- uh- Well… I-” Suddenly the human robot began to malfunction before your eyes and you couldn’t help but cackle at his response. He coughed roughly and pushed out his next words, “If that’s okay with you?”

Something about how nervous he was only made the butterflies worse, but truthfully you knew there was always a fondness for the man that existed on a deeper level than just friends. You were on a first name basis with each other’s skeleton’s and never shied away from the closets they hid in. It had taken a while for you each to get that comfortable, both too scared by your own trauma to think about sharing it with someone else. Truthfully you didn’t think you trusted anyone more with your heart.

“Only took you four years to ask doc.”

[widevibratobitch]

omw to play emotional support for my mom disguised as ✨fun family bonding time✨ for the rest of the week <3333 there's something so deeply wrong with me uwu teehee

[camellcat]

clara oswin oswald I love u I love u foreva !!!!

[canelazombie]

i know the PERFECT song for a scar goodtimes animatic but its in spanish and it doesnt make a lot of sense translated

[nomaishuttle]

thinking thinking ...

[criminalamnesia]

Stay

warnings: enemies to friends, hinted enemies to lovers, Tyler’s sister!reader, mean!scott, bickering, very real tornado danger, mentions of a car crash and physical injuries, not proofread, f!reader

summary: the three time you see storm par’s one and only scott, including the one in which he saves your life.

author’s note: look at me, finally writing something again! I’ve been extremely busy and, truthfully, in a writers slump. I started writing this after seeing twisters, and I just got the motivation to come back and finish it. I’ve been obsessed with this man since that movie, and good lord do we need more fics of him. anyways, enjoy! (also, for my traitor fans— I haven’t forgotten about you! I hope to work on the next part soon!)

the first time you’d seen scott, you’d wanted to break his jaw, and you hadn't even gotten his name.

“get lost on the way to the hillbilly convention?”

his tone is snarky, his eyes full of disdain as he watched you slide out of tyler’s truck.

your eyes had widened, your spine straightening as you registered his unprovoked hostility.

“the fuck is your problem?” you ask, eyes narrowing as you come back to your senses. you look him up and down, huffing a laugh at his clothes.

“you look like you’re going to a fuckin’ business meeting.” you say, coming to a stop in front of him. your cowboy boots dig into the dirt, and the sun beats down on your face.

perfect day for storm chasing, as your brother had said. darkening clouds rolled in the distance, and the wind was steadily picking up. according to lilly's drone data and tyler's instincts, your first chase would occur sometime within the next few hours.

you had been away at college when tyler’s tornado-chasing YouTube channel took off. you’d always loved the thrill of being close to the storms, but even when you came home to visit during summers, tyler refused to let you tag along.

until now, that is. now that you’ve graduated with a degree in meteorology, just like him. he had always accused you of wanting to follow in his footsteps.

“don’t mind storm par over there,” comes your brother’s drawl as he appears beside you, a hand coming down to rest on your shoulder. “the stick up his ass seems to have been lodged a little deeper recently. you’ll get used to it,” tyler grins, barking a laugh at the brunette's scowl.

"haven't seen you before," another man moves to stand beside the brunette. he's also wearing storm par gear, and you watch as him and the taller man share an unreadable glance.

"she's new," tyler responds for you, his wide grin still present as he acknowledges the shorter man with the tip of his hat.

"i'd run while you can, sweetheart," the taller one says, a look of pity in his eyes as he looks back to you. "fucking him isn't worth dying over."

you stare at the man for a moment before bursting into laughter. the storm par pair's eyes both widen, their stares moving from your hysterics, to tyler's rolled eyes, and then to each other.

"you two are supposed to be scientists, huh? the guys who are gonna 'tame tornadoes?'" you throw the last two words in air quotes as your laughter subsides.

the shorter of the two men nods, while the taller opens his mouth once more. "that's right. while you morons are out trying to get yourselves killed, we'll be busy doing shit that actually matters."

"right, right," you nod along, glee shining in your eyes as you stare at the taller one. "you must be so smart, then. where'd you get your degree?"

"MIT," he says smugly, popping the gum in his mouth.

"MIT, wow," you whistle, your eyes finding your brother's. tyler just shakes his head, trying and failing to suppress his laughter.

"you got a degree from MIT, and you're too stupid to tell that he-" you jab a finger towards tyler. "is my fucking brother?"

the man's smug grin instantly falls as his eyes scan you, then tyler, and then fall back onto you. tyler steps forward, smacking a hand on the man's shoulder with a laugh.

"meet my little sister, storm par. may not have gotten a degree from MIT," he says, tipping his cowboy hat to you. you mime tipping an invisible hat back at him. "but she seems to be a hell of a lot smarter than you."

the second time you see scott, you still don't learn his name.

"jesus christ, this thing is huge!" you yelp as tyler swerves the truck back onto the dirt road. he scowls as the storm par truck ahead of him jerks back and forth on the path, blocking his approach.

"how's the wind lookin'?" he asks, his words clipped as his hands grip the wheel tighter. wheat fields ripple on both sides of the road, an ocean of tan as the sky continues to darken.

"pickin' back up," you tell him, glancing down at the laptop in your lap. it was displaying real-time data of the atmospheric conditions. the software had cost a pretty penny, but had been worth it. plus, it had been more than covered by tyler's t-shirt sales. cheesy or not, tyler’s face on a shirt was worth his weight in gold to his followers.

tyler groans as the white truck in front of him cuts him off again.

"ty, just go around!" you yell at him, your eyes widening as you stare out of the passenger side window. the clouds overhead were beginning to swirl.

"i'm tryin' to drive nice," he tells you through gritted teeth. "don't wanna make you sick-" he begins, but you roll your eyes and reach over, jerking the wheel. the car swerves off the road and into the ditch beside it, and tyler scrambles to avoid hitting a wire fence as he swats at your hand.

"what the fuck?!" he yells at you, his eyes cutting to you for a second before focusing back on the road.

"stop tryin' to baby me!" you tell him. "show these storm par pricks what we're made of."

tyler falls silent, clearly debating his next move. you're about to grab the wheel again when his foot slams down on the gas and the truck lurches forward. you cheer, throwing a fist in the air as you laugh with glee.

"just don't tell mom!" he says to you, laughing along.

as the truck speeds forwards, tyler lets off the gas just enough to keep speed with the storm par truck. you lean past him to get a look into the cab, and there's the brunette you'd had the displeasure of meeting a few days ago.

you can see his scowl from here, and your grin is wide as you hold your middle finger up, waving it around to make sure he couldn't miss it. his scowl deepens, and before he can even think of responding to the gesture, tyler hits the gas again.

"what was that for?" your brother asks as you lean back into you seat.

you shrug. "just havin' fun."

the third time you see scott, he saves your life.

it's a week after the middle-finger incident. although storm par and your brother's wranglers have been following the same storms, you haven't had the pleasure of bothering the tall brunette, much less seeing him. you’d caught glimpses, but he seemed to be keeping his distance. you supposed he’d finally grown tired of your constant teasing.

you don't know why you find yourself caring. he's an asshole. an asshole who hates you, your brother, and everything the two of you stand for. who constantly underestimates and looks down on you.

and yet you miss his scowl and the unmistakable pop of his bubblegum.

"hey, you okay over there?" boone asks as he leans over the center console, his head peeking out between the two front seats. you know the question is directed at you, as boone is watching you like a hawk.

"yeah, fine," you shrug, your eyebrows furrowed as you lean down, getting closer to the screen of your laptop.

"ty, turn the music down for a sec," you tell him, and he listens without protest. a rare occurrence, but now wasn't the time for bickering.

what had first appeared to be a measly EF1 had begun to grow. it wasn't dying out, and things were starting to get scarily real as moisture kept feeding into the funnel miles ahead of you.

"this thing isn't stopping," you tell the two men. "you need to tell the rv to turn around. hell, we should turn around."

boone shakes his head, leaning further into your space. his eyes scan your computer screen, and although he's learned a lot from tyler, he still doesn't see what you see.

"nah, it's gonna be fine. ty said it's gonna die out anyways, right? we just need to get in it before it does."

"boone," you warn, turning in your seat to face him. "love you, but shut the fuck up right now." you reach out a hand and grip tyler's arm.

"ty, I mean it."

rain starts pelting the windshield. you can hear the wind howling outside of the truck, and you shudder as hail begins to pound against metal.

tyler mumbles something under his breath as he kicks the windshield wipers up to maximum speed. "you sure?" he finally says.

he turns to look at you as you nod, and those precious seconds are all it takes for the world to spin on its axis.

a fence post slams through the windshield as rain and hail continue to obscure the world around you. you scream and tyler jerks the wheel out of instinct. the truck turns sharply, running off the road. your stomach drops as the truck drops and rises again- your own personal rollercoaster from hell.

"tyler!" you yell, gripping the straps of the harness holding you in.

"workin' on it!" he responds, jerking the wheel the other way. the truck rights itself back on the road, and you close your eyes as adrenaline rushes through your veins.

fuck, the others-

"boone, tell the others to turn around now!" you yell at him, and he's nodding frantically from his seat in the back, his hands fumbling for the walkie talkie in the floor.

"so much for an EF1!" tyler says, and although his tone sounds easy, his face betrays him. you can see the glimpse of fear in his eyes. it mirrors your own.

"yeah, ri-" you begin, but the sentence never fully forms.

you black out as another car slams into the passenger side of the truck.

"c'mon, get up!"

everything feels fuzzy. your head is pounding, and your ears are ringing. pain shoots through your body, engulfing every inch of skin. you think something has to be broken, judging from the numbness you feel on the right side of your body.

"get up!"

your eyes begin to crack open, but your vision is blurry. someone is a few feet in front of you, but you can't make out who it is.

"for fuck's sake-" the voice growls, and you can just hear the faint crunching of glass before your hearing comes back in full force.

the wind is an unbearable howl, and the rain and hail pounding down around you make hearing your own thoughts almost impossible-

your thoughts. what had happened? one second, you're driving and then-

fuck. tyler. boone. where were they?

your eyes shoot open, your body jerking against the harness still keeping you strapped to the leather passenger seat.

you look to your left- to the driver's side- but tyler isn't there. you try to turn you head to see into the back, but a sharp pain in your neck quickly stops you.

"tyler?!" you yell, but your voice is carried off by the wind. you can't even hear your own words.

"boone?!"

"they're fine!" a voice calls to you, and your gaze shoots back to the driver's side. you can see a man crouching by the driver's now blown-out window— which is upside down.

you were upside down. the truck had rolled with the impact of whatever had hit you. everything comes back with devastating clarity, and even though adrenaline pumps through your veins, the pain is beginning to become unbearable.

“can you move?” the voice says. you can’t tell who it is through the spots in your vision and the sheets of rain still coming down.

“I-” you start, pushing your chest against the harness. “I think so.”

“good,” you recognize it as a man’s voice. “then hurry the fuck up and get out!”

under different circumstances, you would’ve scoffed at the order, but now wasn’t the time for defiance. your life was literally on the line, and if you didn’t get to shelter before the tornado engulfed you—

well, you didn’t want to think about that.

you force your brain to gather itself, directing your thoughts toward moving your aching limbs. your left arm is the only one that responds, coming to fumble with the metal buckles of the harness.

the first one unclasps and you swear you could cry from relief.

“any day now!” the man calls, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. you reach your left hand across your torso, working at the clasp on your right side.

“im trying!” you call back. once you get it undone, your arms fall downward as gravity claims them. you groan in pain as your right arm shifts. something is definitely broken, but you can’t afford to give into the pain at the moment.

you reach for the lap belt, tugging at it with a shaking hand. the wind continues to howl around you, and you feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes. hopelessness begins to eat away at you as you try and try again to undo the lap belt, to no avail.

“it’s stuck!” you call out, hoping the man can hear you. “I can’t get out!”

your breathing is picking up. your chest feels tight, and the feeling you still have in your left hand ebbs as you begin to panic.

you don’t want to die. you know that. it scares you shitless.

but you don’t want anyone else to die, either.

you’re stuck. whoever is outside of the truck isn’t. he should run while he can—

“hold on!” you’re jarred from your thoughts as a figure begins to crawl through the hole left by the blown-out window, and that’s when you register your savior.

it’s him, the brunette from storm par. the man who belittled you, who rolled his eyes at every sentence you spoke, and who you somehow found yourself missing.

he’s crawling into the cab, his arms no doubt suffering cuts from the shattered glass littering his path. “I’ve got you,” he calls to you, and when your eyes meet his, there’s no look of disdain. there’s thinly veiled terror.

“you need to leave me,” you tell him, and you can’t tell if the wetness on your face is from your tears or the rain that’s now blowing sideways into the destroyed truck.

“shut the fuck up,” he tells you, groaning as he slices his forearm on a jagged piece of metal.

“im serious,” you reply, your left hand still fumbling with the belt restraining you. “I can’t feel my right side—”

“will you shut up? please?” he heaves out, his face inches from yours now as he reaches for the lap belt.

you fall silent, but not because you’re heeding his demands. no, you’re too busy examining his face. he’s never been this close to you, and you’re taking in every little detail before death comes to sweep you up.

can’t blame a girl for wanting to gawk at a handsome man in her final minutes, can you?

“stop staring at me,” he grits out, his forearm flexing as he tugs at the lap belt. something has the fabric trapped, and although he’s freeing it inch by inch, you’re not sure if—

the belt gives, and his arms leave your lap to cushion your fall, protecting your head from slamming into the metal below you.

he doesn’t say anything, but you watch as his gaze flits over your right side. stone cold as ever, his expression gives nothing away regarding your physical state. you can’t bring yourself to look down.

“im gonna pull you out, okay?” he says, and you absently nod your head. the pain is heavier now— harder to push away. your vision swims as he hooks his arms under yours and shuffles back on his knees.

agony spreads through your thoughts as the numbness gives way to excruciating pain. your eyelids flutter, but the man doesn’t stop. he grunts as he pulls you forward again, slowly but surely removing you from the truck.

“you need to leave me,” you tell him again, your teeth biting into your bottom lip to stifle a scream of pain. “im not going to be able to walk. I’ll just slow you down—”

“jesus christ, you don’t listen, do you? im not leaving you here to die.”

he finally makes his way out of the wreckage, pulling you with him. once you’re free of the ruined truck, he stands on shaky legs— fighting to maintain balance as the wind whips across his figure. he reaches down, scooping you up in his bloody arms, and starts to run as best he can. the rain is so thick you can’t even see a foot in front of you, let alone where he’s taking you.

lightning cracks overhead, followed by thunder so loud it shakes your shattered bones. your head tilts up to the sky, and you watch in horror at what was once an EF1 tornado races toward you. it’s got to be an EF4 by now— maybe even a 5 based off its sheer size.

“drop me!” you screech, your working hand clutching the soaked fabric of his storm par shirt.

if he hears you, he pays you no mind as he continues to struggle against the wind.

with your eyes focused on the impending doom behind you, you don’t even realize when he reaches his destination. he jumps down into a deep ditch, and you hear him groan as his feet hit the ground. he must be hurt, too.

“is she alright?” a voice calls, and your eyes widen as boone comes into view, a large cut across his forehead that looks like it definitely needs stitches.

“not the time!” the storm par man shouts, ducking behind your friend. your eyes catch boone’s over his shoulder, and you give your fellow storm chaser a weak wink. boone’s lips crack into a wide smile, even amidst this horrible storm.

the brunette carrying you falls to his knees, laying your back against muddied dirt. he refuses to let you go, his arms cradling you against his chest as he shelters you with his own body. there’s nothing to hold onto except for him, and you know if the tornado gets any closer, you’ll both be goners.

you close your eyes tightly, welcoming your end despite your overwhelming fear— but it never comes.

you pry your eyes open as the sounds of wind and rain finally begin to subside. the body above yours still clutches you tightly.

“are we alive?” your voice comes out a whisper. your left hand flexes against the man’s chest, and sure enough, it meets a solid body. he’s not an imagination— he’s real. you’re still here.

“yes,” his chest rumbles with the words, and his arms slowly snake out from under you as he sits back on his haunches. his eyes are locked on yours, his icy blues unreadable as he watches your face.

you don’t say anything for a moment. and then,

“you’re the stupidest son of a bitch I’ve ever met.”

his eyes widen in surprise, and his stern facade cracks for the first time— at least, that you’ve seen— and he chuckles.

the bubble surrounding you two quickly pops as tyler’s voice meets your ears. you turn your head and there he is— your brother, running towards you with relief written all over his face.

“oh, thank god,” he says, throwing himself to his knees and scooping you up in a hug. you hiss in pain and he pulls back, his hands on your shoulders as he looks you up and down with a grimace.

“you took the worst of it. those storm par pricks—” his eyes cut to your savior, who is still sitting nearby, watching the two of you. “hit us. you and boone were knocked out, and you were stuck, so I got him first and was coming back, but—”

“ty,” you interrupt, your left hand landing atop one of his. “it’s okay. im okay. we’re okay.”

tyler takes a deep breath and nods, his eyes flitting back down your body, focusing on your right leg. you follow his gaze, grimacing at the unnatural twist of the limb. no wonder it had gone numb.

“I’ve had worse,” you tell him, taking notice of your limp, lacerated right arm.

“now’s not the time to play hero,” your brother chastises, standing up before reaching down and picking you up. your eyes meet your savior’s once more. he’s standing now, too, his arms crossed over his chest as he matches your gaze.

“guess we owe you a thanks, clipboard. and you owe us a new truck.” tyler says, to which the brunette rolls his eyes.

“ty,” you roll your eyes, too, as you keep your gaze locked with the brunette’s. “ignore my brother. thank you for saving my life….” you trail off, realizing, truly realizing for the first time that you don’t know his name.

“scott.” he tells you. you nod.

“thank you, scott.”

he nods back, turning his back to you as he starts to limp back to the road your vehicles had been abandoned at. you doubted they would still be there.

just as you’re about to look away from his retreating form, he glances over his shoulder and gives you a true, sweetly small, smile.

maybe storm par isn’t so bad after all.

[r1elle]

desperate male lead syndrome is making a strong comeback in 2024 and i’m here for it!! so i wrote about this annoying loser (your honour i love him so much)

husband atsumu drabble because this is what the people want ^^ (i’m people)

“baby, don’t go looking at yer’ poor husband like that..” atsumu pouts, poking your cheeks at the sight of your evidently disdained face.

okay. you could go do that. you could also just forget the broken ceramic on the floor, still not cleaned up because atsumu would rather make amends with you first than cleaning up the potential risk that was right infront of you both.

honestly, you couldn’t tell whether you should be glad, or concerned.

“i’m not mad at you,’ you say, the expression on your face clearly betraying your words. “don’t worry about it, atsumu.”

you thought that maybe your words would ease the blonde man’s resolve, however it seemed to have only made it worse for him.

“atsumu?! no baby, no love, no ‘tsumu?!” he stresses, hands going up to his mouth.

you stare at his rather dramatic delivery,—and was that the life in his eyes flying away?? he looks like a modern rendition of casper the ghost.

“i’ll do the dishes for a week, no,—a month! i’ll buy ya’ those heels ya’ told me not to buy at the mall!!” atsumu frantically spouts, saying anything he could think of as he continues to cling onto your figure, his face mushing onto your neck and shoulder area.

you shut your eyes. just.. how could you stay annoyed? look at his pouty face, how his ears seemed to be more red than the rest of his skins current complexion. he practically made it impossible for you to even be the least bit mad, and you would’ve felt as guilty as a convict for even attempting to do so. that’s the kind of effect he had on you.

in response, you merely sigh. but there wasn’t any bark to it. “or, you could clean up the shattered pot on the floor.” you say, making sure to bring your tone to a more gentle and reassuring one.

atsumu turns to at you once again, his blonde locks tickling your skin as he moves.

“yer’ not mad anymore?” he beams. “i mean, we could always make another pot, right? how ‘bout it?” he says, hopeful eyes staring directly to your orbs.

in all realness, you genuinely weren’t mad at him, —(as much as he would sulk and say you definitely were), no. you were just sad at the fact that you and atsumu’s ceramic that you both had worked so hard to sculpt and paint on your first date was now shattered on the floor, all but beyond repair.

“i was never mad at you, promise.” you say. “just a bit disappointed. i liked that pot a lot, you know.” your hand reaches for atsumu’s cheek, pinching it slightly. physical touch always seemed to reassure him more than anything else.

atsumu mentally notes that he should make you breakfast in bed the following morning as he stares at your affirming expression. he plants various of pecks on your face after doing so.

“i’m sorry, princess.” atsumu coo’s, his hand pushing away the little hairs on your forehead as he plants a kiss on it.

“i’ll make it up to ya’, i promise.”

— • —

now, you know that you most definitely shouldn’t be all too surprised, considering that, well, —this was miya atsumu we were talking about,

but seriously….

you stare at the little bundle of fur politely sitting on your lap as you rub your eyes, just having come out of your nights sleep. you also happen to notice the smell of pancakes and hot chocolate coming from the bedside table.

“ ‘tsumu, where—?..no, when did you get this dog?”

“i have my ways.” he proudly grins. “but look, it’s yer’ favourite breed!”

“….yes, i know. but where did you—“

“we have a daughter now, hehe.”

“since when did i agre—“

“so adorable, definitely takes after her mommy and daddy. look at the bow on her head!”

“ ‘tsum-“

“i love you.”

“dont change the subject!”

——————————————————————————

atsumu brainrot is real and clocking me out (kageyama i can explain)

update: TYSM for 1k+ notes omg ??!! thank u all for loving this loserboy with me i feel so heard 😢😢🙏🏽

[chaconnehoonie]

BFFS- S.JY & P.SH

♡ Sunghoon x Fem! reader x Jake

Synopsis: Your best friends show you how real men treat women.

WC: 4.6k

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, threesome, cursing, Jakehoon call reader princess a lot

Smut warnings: Kissing, oral(f&m), handjobs, unprotected sex, double penetration, anal, slight manhandling, squirting, cream pie, reader maybe almost passes out, aftercare(i love)

This is fiction and the scenarios are completely fake and from my brain, none of the characters are like this in real life, MDNI!

A/N: This took me three days to write,, pls bear with me as I figure out my writing style. Jakehoon have me going brain dumb and I rlly needed to write this to get it out of my system, enjoy!

You slouched back in your seat, lolling your head to the side to watch the scenery as big open fields pass by quickly. Sighing in disappointment of your “girls day” gone wrong.

“Okay- what do you mean the Airbnb was cancelled? How do you even cancel one of those?” Sunghoon whines in the front seat while giving Jake directions to the nearest hotel. A real passenger princess, he is.

Jake’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, irritated at the faulty trip plan he had made for the three of you. “I don’t know.” He mutters through gritted teeth. “I wasn’t the one that canceled it. The host did, said something about a family emergency.”

Your eyes grow lazy as the sun sets, watching as the calming twilight takes over the sky. You couldn’t care any less about the Airbnb, just wanting to settle into the nearest bed and relax. So, when Jake finally pulls into the parking lot of the nearest hotel, you’re the first one to hop out of the car.

“Jesus, this place is scary.” You whisper to yourself but Sunghoon picks up on it, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer. “Sorry, Princess. I know this trip was supposed to be for you to relax and let go but we’re on a bit of a delay. The fun can start tomorrow.” He ruffles your hair a bit before you pull away to grab your suitcase. “Don’t even worry about it.”

He takes your suitcase in his hand while also holding his own, forearm flexing under his expensive Tiffany bracelet. “Seriously, Y/N. I’m sorry it’s not going as planned.” Jake is frowning next to you as you walk to the front desk and you shake your head at him. “Please, guys. I know you’re trying your best to make me feel better.”

You turn back to Sunghoon who is now holding your room key, ushering you to the fragile looking stairs that creak under each step. “Room 127.” He mutters out as you turn the corner, nodding his head towards the very end of a long hallway of doors.

Grabbing the key from him to run ahead of them, you open the creaky door to let them in first. “Thanks, Princess.” Jake follows behind Sunghoon through the threshold, kissing your temple in gratitude.

They both huff as they set down the luggage, immediately scanning the room to analyze your living situation. There’s two small beds with a nightstand between, an old CRT TV that probably doesn’t work, a scary painting of a cottage in a forest on the wall next to the bathroom door, and a tiny kitchen with only a small counter, mini fridge, and a table for two.

“Well,” Sunghoon sighs, plopping down onto a bed, “Let’s get comfy.” He smiles and even if this hotel is old and creepy, his grin makes you feel like you’re home. “Thank you, guys.” You’re hit with a sudden sense of sadness and guilt. “I know you guys like trips but this was so last minute because of me and I feel bad for making you guys go through this.”

Jake sits down next to Sunghoon, grabbing one of your hands to lead you to stand in front of them. “Don’t even worry about it. We planned this for you. No best friend of mine is going to get cheated on and then rot in bed for all of eternity.” Sunghoon nods in agreement, taking your other hand in his. “That’s right. We’re for lifers and I’d be an asshole to leave my bestie in the dirt just because she got a little closed off and depressed.”

You squeeze both of their hands, smiling down at their big, loving eyes. “You guys are sweet.” You feel a lump in your throat starting to form, and get suddenly too embarrassed of being emotional to be serious, “But you need to stop with the TikTok slang, I can’t take it seriously.” You joke and they both grin at your attempt to be funny, different from your recently quiet and moody personality.

“Why don’t you go take a shower and when we’re all done washing up, we can put a movie on my laptop, hm?” Sunghoon stands up and Jake follows, leading all three of you to check out the bathroom. As expected, the area is small with just a sink, toilet, and small shower. “Good thing I brought my own soaps.”

Just as you turn to grab your garment bag, a large cockroach is running across the floor and Jake is quick to step on it, hearing the loud splat as it’s squished against the tile. “Wow, I am not sleeping tonight”.

♡.

You mindlessly scroll through social media as your best friends are focused on the horror movie playing on the small screen in front of you, huddled up in a big blanket that’s covering them from head to toe, save for their eyes. All three of you are laying on your stomachs, and you’d feel them jerk and hear small squeals every now and then as they get scared, then teasing each other for being pussies which results in them rolling around on the bed trying to push each other off.

You sigh as you click on a certain story that makes your stomach drop, the video audio blasting as music plays through speakers and your screen flashes bright colorful lights while people dance and grind on each other.

“What are you doing? You’re not even watching the movie!” Jake nudges your side and you nudge him back, pushing him into Sunghoon who is laying next to him. “Yeah, we put this on for you!” Sunghoon joins in on the whining, reaching over Jake to steal your phone. “What are you looking at anyways-” He cuts himself off as he watches the video on your phone, suddenly tapping on the person’s profile. “Your ex? Seriously?”

You sink further into the bed with guilt, avoiding eye contact with the both of them as they stare at you in disbelief. “Why haven’t you blocked him yet?” Jake sounds hurt by this, maybe because you promised him you’d block the man after you left him. “I-I don’t know,” You huff, “I can’t just let go of him like that.” You watch the way Sunghoon’s jaw clenches in anger, then relaxes as he starts speaking again. “Y/N, he cheated on you. He doesn’t love you and you shouldn’t be trying to hold onto him like that anymore.” He doesn’t sound angry, but it’s serious enough to hit you where it hurts, taking a deep breath as tears start blurring your vision.

Before you have time to process it, Jake sits up and pulls you into his lap, sitting you sideways on one of his thighs. “You know he’s not trying to be rude.” He cups your face and wipes the falling tears away with his thumb. “We just want what’s best for you, and that asshole is definitely not the best.” Sunghoon hums in agreement, placing a hand on the back of your head and petting you soothingly.

“Let us show you how a real man treats his girl.” Sunghoon’s voice is low, almost a whisper and you can feel his breath on your neck. “W-what?” You sniffle, wiping any tears left on your cheek. “You heard me, babe. Let us make you feel good.” He pulls you off of Jake’s lap, laying you on the bed and kneels on one side of you as Jake kneels on the other side.

They both watch you with big, hopeful eyes, patiently waiting for your answer. You could moan just from the way they devour you with their gaze, so you decide to nod in agreement instead. Jake immediately leans down to kiss you, pressing his lips gently against yours while his hands hold your face. Sunghoon’s hands trail up your thighs and hips to hold your waist, pushing under your cropped tank top to grip your skin softly.

You moan quietly against Jake’s lips and he smiles at the way you’re easily relaxing into two pairs of hands. Sunghoon shifts lower, getting comfortable between your legs as he massages the flesh of your thighs. You moan into the kiss again, this time parting your lips slightly, but enough for Jake to slip his tongue through. At the first brush of his tongue against yours you stiffen, hands coming up to grip his hair.

Sunghoon softly squeezes your hip, grabbing your attention away from Jake and you pull away from the kiss with a string of saliva connecting your lips, blushing lightly at the vulgar image. Looking down at Sunghoon, he’s dangerously close to your core, with just your pajama bottoms and underwear in the way. “Can I take these off?” He asks softly, as if trying to make you as comfortable as possible. You whisper out a “yes” and Sunghoon smiles before pressing a kiss to your clothed thigh.

You look back up at Jake who is now groping you from over your thin tank top, watching the way your breasts squish under the weight of his palm. Your back arches slightly, pushing your chest closer to him while you pull him down for another kiss. His mouth opens as soon as your lips touch, letting you stick your tongue in and kiss him nasty enough for spit to trail down your chin and onto your neck.

Jake pulls away, kissing down your cheek to your jaw and neck, lapping at the saliva trail and sucking harshly at the joint of your neck and shoulder. Your back arches higher, grinding your hips against nothing as you realize Sunghoon has gotten your lower half completely bare. You pull your hands away from Jake and shoot up, covering yourself and blushing shyly.

“C‘mon, Princess, show me your pretty pussy.” He nips at your thigh, lightly tapping them to encourage you. Hesitantly, you spread your legs open as he stares down, licking his lips and smirking proudly. “That’s my girl.” He lifts off of his stomach to hover above you, knees on either side of you as Jake takes his spot between your legs. They moved so swiftly you almost didn’t realize that it was Sunghoon you were now kissing.

The way his lips move against yours is different than Jake, softer and less messy but just as hungry. He places his hands on your boobs, softly pinching one nipple and rolling it between his fingers. “A-ah” You whimper into his mouth, lightly biting his bottom lip and he whimpers back in response, shooting butterflies straight down to your core. Jake watches as more slick spills out of you, his cock large and heavy straining against his sweats.

He wastes no time, blowing cold air against your cunt and giving you no chance to complain about teasing as he licks a long stripe up your slit and retracts his tongue back into his mouth to hum at the taste. You shudder at the feeling of him softly kissing your clit, poking his tongue out to gently flick it against you as you press your body up and against Sunghoon.

He takes this as an invitation to continue undressing you, lifting your shirt over your head and staring holes into your chest. Before you can cover yourself again, he catches you and pins your arms above your head with one hand, while the other grabs your face, squishing your cheeks hard enough for your lips to plump up. “God, you’re beautiful.” He leans back down, kissing you softly and pulling away with a smack.

Behind him, Jake is sucking and licking every part of you he can, letting mixes of your slick and his saliva run down his chin and smear on his face. He takes your clit between his lips and sucks harshly. “Fuck- Jake, oh my god.” You moan loudly, pulling Sunghoon closer so he can kiss all over your chest, sucking dark purple and red bruises against your skin.

You assume this is what heaven is. Two hot men kissing and sucking on the most sensitive and intimate parts of you, their hands roaming all over your body to squeeze whatever they feel. You almost forgot that they’re your best friends.

Sunghoon pulls you out of your thoughts as he flicks his tongue over your nipple, softly taking it into his mouth and sucking on it desperately. This sends you over the edge, suddenly feeling too close to your orgasm that your thighs start to tingle and your breathing is unsteady. “Holy shit, g-gonna cum.” You barely have time to warn them before your thighs are closing around Jake’s head, one hand in his hair and the other in Sunghoon’s as he drools against your chest.

“That’s it, baby. Let him taste you.” Sunghoon groans into your ear, his length growing impossibly harder as you lose yourself. Jake doesn’t let go of your clit, instead going further and slipping a finger inside of you easily. “Jesus, you’re soaking.” He smiles as more slick spills out of you, wetting the bed and trailing down his forearm.

“Ah! Too much!” You whine as Jake starts curling his finger, never letting your clit leave his mouth. “It’s okay princess, have to get you prepped for us.” He adds another finger, moaning against your heat at the way he easily slips his digits in, curling them up as your hips chase the feeling.

Sunghoon takes your hand that’s in his hair and trails it down his body, landing on his hard-on. You look up at him as his eyebrows are furrowed, lip caught between his teeth as you gently palm him through his pants. “Go on, take it out.” He wiggles his hips cutely and you nod eagerly.

You fumble with his belt, having to stop a few times to moan and grind against Jake’s fingers. You finally loosen it, popping open the button and unzipping so you can tug his pants down his thighs aggressively. “Relax, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” You blush and look back up at him, and he can’t help but cup your face, using his thumb to play with your bottom lip. You stick your tongue out to lick the top of his finger and the sight is overwhelming.

He mutters a quiet “fuck” and stumbles off of the bed, pulling his jeans and boxers down before hopping back onto the bed and kneeling at your side again. You take his length in your hand, going cross eyed at how close it is to your face. He’s huge, and you’re starting to doubt your ability to please him. You inhale deeply, softly stroking him just enough to keep him content as you gather yourself.

You don’t notice the way he smiles down at you, taking in just how sexy you look holding his cock while being stuffed with Jake’s mouth and fingers. He’s never admit, however, how many times he’d jerked off imagining this situation or how many times he planned something like this with Jake.

You lean foward to kiss his bare thigh, leading a trail up to his base and up his shaft, then leaving one final kiss on his tip. He throws his head back at the soft feeling, already sensitive and ready to cum on your pretty face. Jake reaches impossibly deep inside of you and you can’t help the loud moan that escapes, warm breath fanning against Sunghoon’s length. He visibly stiffens before grabbing his cock and swiping it across your lips, coating them with shiny pre-cum.

You stick your tongue out just enough to taste him, but not enough to fit him inside your mouth and he groans at your teasing. The sound is enough to send a shock through your body, bringing you to your second orgasm. “Oh, fuckfuckfuck-“ you’re barely able to moan before Sunghoon quickly slides his cock into your mouth, forcing you to gag and choke through your orgasm.

Quickly pulling off, you take a deep breath before shoving Sunghoon back in your mouth, taking half of him down and jerking off the rest while Jake laps up the mess between your thighs. Your thighs start to shake, closing shut around Jake’s head again, attempting to shove him off of you with your free hand. Of course, he doesn’t let up and just uses his strength to force your thighs back open, this time hooking his arms around them to shove his face back in.

He aims straight for your rim, cleaning the mess that’s still leaking from your cunt. It’s a new sensation, something you haven’t tried out before, although now you’re not opposed to trying it again sometime. Who knows, maybe a second time with your best friend.

You gag loudly as Sunghoon’s hips snap and he shoves himself deeper into your mouth, but he halts when you don’t complain and instead take him deeper, testing how far you can take him until you’re reaching the base and nuzzling your nose against his patch of hair.

You breathe in through your nose to keep yourself there longer, saliva pooling in your mouth and spilling out onto your chin and down Sunghoon’s girth. “Fuck, babe, you’re nasty.” He pulls away suddenly, forcing himself out of your mouth and you get the chance to finally moan, acknowledging Jake and letting him know you haven’t forgotten about him.

How could you forget about him, with the way he laps from your soaking cunt to your rim, eating you out like he’s been starved his whole life. You even catch a glimpse of him rutting his hips against the bed, chasing any friction he can to soothe his aching cock.

“Jake” you rasp out, pulling his head up to look you in the eyes. The way his hair is messy and his eyes are wide and needy is almost enough to make you cum a third time. “You must be hurting…” you nod your head towards him, motioning to his very obvious painful boner. “Let me help.” He wants to reject you, feeling guilty after promising he’ll take care of you, why make you return the favor?

With the way you look at him with pleading eyes, though, he doesn’t hesitate to undo his sweats, pulling them straight down along with his boxers, and then reaches for the hem of his shirt to pull it off. Sunghoon does the same, using his own shirt to wipe the spit from your chin and neck.

Settling on his knees the same way Sunghoon is, he’s already breathing heavy just from imagining you touching him. So, when you take him in your hand and rub your thumb over his slit, he’s letting out a loud whine that has you craving more. You stroke Sunghoon in one hand while leaning towards Jake to take his tip in your mouth. He immediately bucks his hips forward, then pulls all the way back to apologize.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry- ahh!” You don’t care about his apology, only wanting to hear more of his needy whines as you lick from his base to tip, suckling on the head and looking up to catch his reaction. Just seeing him looking so wrecked just from a few seconds of touching has you moaning around his cock, stroking Sunghoon faster with a tight grip.

Sunghoon thrusts his hips, chasing your fist with every pull and tug, his groans and curses raising in volume each time. Meanwhile Jake’s eyes close tightly, one hand resting on the back of your head while the other holds your cheek, feeling the way it hollows as you take him down your throat. The image is far from unholy. Sitting there, taking one cock down your throat while jerking another.

Feeling bad for Sunghoon, you release Jake but continue stroking him, turning to take Sunghoon in your mouth. “Fuck, just like that. Pretty mouth knows exactly what to do, hm?” His praises make you whine, grinding your own hips down on the bed but missing any possible friction.

Of course, even after two orgasms you crave more. You need more whines and moans from both of them, showing you just how good you make them feel.

You turn back to Jake, taking his cock all the way down your throat, staying there, letting the drool spill from the corners of your mouth as tears do the same from your eyes. He’s choking out a moan, strings of curses falling upon deaf ears as you put your sole focus on getting him to finish. You know exactly what you need to do.

Pulling your head back, you gently lift his cock to stroke it as you turn your neck to lick and suck at his balls. His hips halt, thighs shaking as he grips your hair painfully rough. “God, Fuck- I’m gonna cum.” He cries out, legs continuing to shake as you take him back into your mouth, running your tongue across his slit until he’s filling your mouth with cum.

His whines seem to set something off in Sunghoon, who’s now cursing loudly as he shoots his own ropes of cum across your cheek and down your neck and chest. You don’t know why all it took was Jake to climax for him to finally cum, but maybe you’ll ask him about that another time.

They both stay kneeling, catching their breaths as you fall onto your back against the pillows, legs weak but still sticky between your thighs. “We’re not done, baby.” Jake leans down to peck your lips when he notices your worried look. Falling next to you, he lays down and pulls you on top of him, hands soothing down your sides in a comforting way.

He pulls your face down for another kiss, breaking it to speak lowly in your ear. “Want me to fuck you?” You already know you’re spilling down your thighs again, looking down to watch the way your pussy sits perfectly on his still hard length. You don’t reply, instead grinding down and forward, sliding yourself against him.

“Yeah? Think you can take it?” You’re in a trance from the way he’s speaking to you, holding you, like you’re precious to him. You nod eagerly, sitting up on your knees to rub his tip across your slit, hearing the slick noises of your arousal. Taking a deep breath, you slowly ease him into you, sitting down and wincing at the way he impales you just from a few inches.

Jake’s face is angelic, eyebrows slightly furrowed but his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, turning white at how hard he’s biting. You finally sit all the way down, feeling him twitch inside of you as you slowly rock your hips, falling forward to moan in his neck. His hands tightly grip your waist, holding you still as he pulls out then slides himself back in, throwing his head back in a loud moan.

You thrust yourself down, meeting his own thrusts halfway as he picks up the pace, low skin slapping sounds filling the room. You completely forgot that Sunghoon was behind you, until his hands are palming your butt, and his lips find their place on your back. His gentle kisses up your spine give you chills, clenching down on Jake who whimpers at the sensation.

“Think you can take both of us?” Sunghoon kisses your ear, giving you no time to respond as he stands back up to do something from behind you that you can’t see. “What?” You ask in a small voice, but it’s answered right away when you feel him spit onto the crack of your ass, saliva sliding down and coating your rim.

You try to turn around but Jake pulls you back into a harsh kiss, tongue massaging your own and pulling whines from your throat. He distracts you enough for you to forget about Sunghoon again, while he gently prods his tip at your entrance. “Hoon! What are you- ah!” You’re cut off as he easily slides in, the new sensation knocking your breath out of you.

“Ever take it in the ass, baby?” He leans down to peck your cheek, slowly inching himself in with each thrust. Once he’s fully inside, he pulls back out to the tip just to slam himself back inside. Jake takes this as the green light to also thrust into you again, bucking his hips up at the same pace as Sunghoon.

If you thought you were in heaven earlier, you wouldn’t know what to call this. This act of whatever love or lust this is. Perhaps it was just your friends’ way of declaring their love for you. Or, just trying to prove how a man should treat you, how he should fuck you. You can’t complain though, having both holes filled by big, girthy cocks is something you thought you could only dream of.

And as Jake sensually sucks on your lower lip, and Sunghoon is leaving dark hickeys on your neck, you think you might be in love. With both of them.

One particular thrust from Sunghoon has him throwing you foward and onto Jake’s chest, crying out in pleasure while his grip on your hips is painful. He leans down, keeping one hand on your hip as the other arm is crossing your chest, catching your neck between his forearm and bicep, puling you back up to kneeling with Jake still inside of your cunt.

With your back pressed to Sunghoon’s chest and his length deep inside your ass, you bounce harder, faster, both of them filling you so pleasurably you cry out, tears falling from your eyes as you scream with a horse voice. “Fuck- God, yes! I’m c-cumming!” You go silent with your jaw slack as your orgasm washes over you, every inch of your body tingling as you clench impossibly tight on both of them, with just the sound of light splashing and skin slapping keeping you conscious.

Your eyes are closed but you can feel the way Jake stops thrusting, filling you with his thick warm liquid and Sunghoon soon follows, releasing himself into your hole enough to have it dripping past your rim and back onto himself.

You collapse onto your butt next to Jake, noticing the large wet spot left on the bed covers. “Did…did I do that?” You ask shyly, blushing as Sunghoon nods and kneels next to you, pulling you to lay down with him and spooning you while you wrap one arm around Jake’s abdomen.

You feel like you’ve truly ascended, as if this is the universe’s way of rewarding you for every good deed you’ve committed. Having two warm men holding onto you, kissing you, loving you like you deserve. You’d take this any day, even if it’s with your best friends.

[artbyblastweave]

A few years ago, there was a thread on r/asksciencefiction where someone was fishing for a superhero story with an inverted Omni-Man dynamic, or a setting where Homelander's initial presentation is played straight- a setting where the Superman figure actually is the paragon of morality he's initially presented as, but no other superhero is- a situation where you've got one really competent true-blue hero standing head-and-shoulders in power above what's otherwise a complete nest of vipers.

Someone in the thread floated My Hero Academia; while I haven't read it, my understanding is that that's not really an accurate read of what's going on with Stain's neurosis about All-Might being the only "real hero," that the point of that arc is that Stain's got an insane and unreasonable standard and that taking an endorsement deal, while bad, isn't actually grounds for execution. My own contribution to the thread was Gail Simone's Welcome to Tranquility, where a major part of the backstory involved the faux Justice-League's Superman analogue having a little accident because he's the only one who thought they were morally obligated to go public with the secret life-extending macguffin that the rest of the team is using to enforce comic-book time on themselves and their loved ones; while only a couple members of the team are directly in on it, the rest are conveniently incurious. And Jupiter's Legacy gets tantalizingly close to this- The Utopian, a well-meaning stick-in-the-mud, ultimately gets blindsided and couped by his scheming brother who creates a superhero junta staffed by a Kingdom-Come-style glut of third-gen superheroes, who are framed as fundamentally self-interested because only came onto the scene after most of the situations you legitimately need a superhero to handle have been neutralized. (The rub, of course, is that the comic is also highly critical of the Utopian's intellectually incurious self-righteously 'apolitical' approach to superheroism- if for no other reason than that it left him in a position to get blindsided by a coup!) While Jupiter's Legacy gets the closest, all three of these are only loosely orbiting around the spirit of the original idea, and there's something really interesting there- particularly if the Superman figure isn't hopelessly naive in the same way as Utopian. Because first of all, if you're Metaman or Amazingman or whatever brand-name alias the writer goes with, and you really earnestly mean it, and you put together a team of all the other most powerful heroes on earth in order to pool your resources, and then with dawning horror you gradually begin to realize that everyone in the room besides yourself is a fascist or a con artist or abuser or any other variant of a kid with a magnifying glass eyeing that anthill called Earth- What the hell is your next move?

Do you just call the whole thing off? Can you trust that they'll actually go home if you call the whole thing off? I mean you've put the idea in their heads, are you sure that they aren't going to, like, start the Crime Syndicate in your absence? Do you stick around to try and enact containment, see if getting all of these people on a team makes them easier to keep on a leash? But that's functionally going to make you their enabler pretty quickly, right? Overlooking "should you kill them-" can you kill them? You're stronger than any individual one of them- are you stronger than all of them? The first time one of them really crosses a line in a way you can't ignore- will that be a one-on-one fight? Are they the kind of people capable of putting two-and-two together and pre-emptively ganging up on you if you push back too hard? Do you just start trying to get them killed, or keep them at each other's throats so they can't coordinate anything really nasty? Can you squeeze any positive moral utility out of them, or is that just a way to justify not doing the hard work of taking them down? There've been works where the conceit is to question the default assumption that Superman in specific would be a good person, and there've been works where the conceit is to question the default assumption that superheroes in general would be good people. Something to be done, I think, with questioning the default assumption that everyone Superman becomes professionally close to would be good, and to explore how he'd handle it if they weren't.

[retroellie]

Mile-high club

Summary: After a month of not having sex, you decide to be bold with what you want from spencer. Stepping out of both your comfort zones due to complete sexual frustration.

A/N: This one is a bit rushed, but can y'all tell what my faviote spencer era is? Like i love long haired spencer i can not! Also yall... I just turned 19 :) So that's a little life update lmao. Anyways love and miss y'all!!

Warnings: NSFW, public sex and dirty talk

Word count: 5.4K

As with any other case, this case dragged on and on until you felt you were nothing but skin and bones. Cases always left you feeling so empty inside, always so bleak... it always took you a bit to come back to your natural self. The first rule of being a part of the FBI is never to take it personally, don't take it to heart. But how could you not? You're inviting yourself into these people's lives, picking apart their brains, and using that to your advantage. You knew it was for the best but that didn't mean you had to like it.

You were doing what you normally did after cases, drinking hot tea on the jet aching for the sweet release of sleep. This time, however, you weren't aching for sleep. This entire week there was a thought always in the back of your mind, you weren't sure why it was this case specifically but for some reason, the thought lingered. Spencer... You felt yourself heating up every time around him, focusing only on his hands when he was showing you paperwork or squeezing your thighs together as you watched his hips. You had never been the needy one in the relationship, it has always been Spencer... but something about him now left you hungry. You racked it off to just you being hormonal, but you knew it was because Spencer's hands hadn't been on you for a while. Back-to-back cases like these always left no time to get down with Spencer... one downside to this job among many.

Even now, while sitting on the jet, you could only look at him. Emily and JJ were talking about god knows what, while you started across the jet to see your little Spencer. He was reading, his hands so delicately following as he read... His hair had gotten long, almost touching his shoulders now. You had gotten real used to pulling on it, sometimes subconsciously doing it as you hugged him. You started to think about how he looked last time you made him whimper, the picture burnt into your brain as you slid yourself up and down until he begged you to stop. "too much...." was all he could muster up, his wrist rubbing against the rope as he so badly wanted to reach up to touch you.

"You hear Y/N?" You heard a voice say, your heart dropping as you whipped your head towards it.

The voice belonged to Emily, her eyebrow raised as she wondered what you were thinking. She could see that something was up and not just because she was a profiler. Anyone who could see how you were looking at Spencer could see exactly how you were feeling, sexually frustrated. The way you gripped onto your coffee mug, and bit the inside of your lip roughly... basically eye fucked Spencer. Obviously, you could never tell Emily how you were thinking about Spencer being so pussy drunk that it physically hurt him. So you just sent a smile over to her, brought your tea to your lips, and nodded.

"Yeah! Sorry..." You kept the grin on your face, your embarrassment getting the best of you as you began to become flustered. "Just a bit distracted today."

You flicked your eyes between my cup and Emily, not wanting to make too much eye contact in the state you were in, your state being extremely turned on. It was gross to even admit, but even just looking at Spencer... your body reacted. Emily looked over at JJ, shooting her a look. You caught onto this, but not sure what that look even meant. JJ just chuckled softly, shifting herself in her chair. You looked between them, feeling as though you were left out of a really funny inside joke of theirs. Emily looked back at you, giving you a smirk.

"I can see that..." She leaned back in her chair, hands placed on her stomach as she read your confusion. "Been a while?"

Her words confused you, not sure what she meant by that. You now started feeling like you were the butt of the joke, feeling like you did in high school when girls would giggle behind you. "Been a while." Could mean anything, has it been a while since you showered? Has it been a while since you ate? Has it been a while since you went to a concert? The possibilities were endless yet Emily still expected an answer. You furrowed your brows, cocking your head to the side.

"What?" You asked, genuinely needing an explanation before you could even answer her question. Emily chuckled once again, looking back at Spencer before huddling herself closer to you as if she had to tell you a huge secret.

"You and Spencer?" That was all she said.

Your heart dropped, was Emily a mind reader? or were you just that frustrated that it was written on your skin? Her words made you think, however, how long has it been? It was definitely before this case and the one before it... then there was that 4-day conference y'all were forced to attend, well then that one week you got your period and didn't feel like doing anything but laying in bed... You would say it's been a good month, maybe a little more. This was definitely not normal for you two, sex was like food to the two of you. It was y'alls way to destress from cases, it became so normal to go home after a long case and bang it out. Trust and believe this drought had been taking a toll on you, you were so horny that you could start humping Spencer's leg at any moment, just like a dog in heat.

You hesitated to answer, not wanting to cross that boundary with Emily but also not wanting to be humiliated. You were the more private person when it came to the BAU, you would come in and do your work... that's it. Obviously, you were a part of the BAU family, you knew everyone's business and you would hang out with them outside of work. But you were a mystery to everyone there, well except Spencer, he had quite literally known you inside and out. As of right now though, you were frustrated and in need of a rant so that boundary didn't exist for you today.

"Is it that noticeable?" You said sarcastically, scoffing as you did so. You hated the feeling of being easily read, but the frustration was sloshing around inside you so it was only a matter of time before the people around you figured it out. Emily chuckled softly, looking over at JJ before she spoke.

"I mean you have been grouchy, you're not focused, and well..." Emily paused, she was now reading you like a book. "You've been undressing Spencer with your eyes this entire trip."

You wanted to melt into the ground, and let the worms use your flesh as food. You were embarrassed, completely and utterly ashamed of her words. You were acting like a starved man, only able to focus on the mere thought of food... like a complete glutton-driven man. You never really knew how much you needed sex, you started to wonder if you always had this need deep inside you. You remember before Spencer, you went months without an orgasm and was perfectly fine. Maybe it was Spencer, maybe his cock switched something on inside your pussy... or maybe other men hadn't been doing it right.

You felt your cheeks heat up but at the same time, your body ran cold. All you could do was watch as Emily snickered at your reaction, like your embarrassment was the funniest thing she had ever seen. You were much younger than Emily and JJ, you were newer to this world and newer to sex than they were. Trust and believe that both women have had their share of droughts, so this is not new to them. They weren't trying to embarrass you or make you feel you needed to be ashamed. No, they just found it amusing that you were so blinded to the fact you were so obvious with your motives. Let's just say your subtle touches and comments towards Spencer weren't so subtle.

"I just..." You start, your voice sounding as though you were pouting and honestly... you were pouting. "It used to be every day! Every night, after work... like clockwork! But this stupid fucking job is getting in the way of us, I mean sex is how we communicate!"

Your voice is rising, alerting the sleeping Derek who sat right behind you. He was too tired to even comprehend what you were talking about, which surprised you because he always teased you and Spencer about your sex life. The girls didn't laugh this time, only watched as you looked like you were going crazy. They didn't realize how upset you were about this, this felt it went far beyond sex to you. It did in some sense, as said before you and Spencer were always having sex so if there was no sex happening... there was no and him happening either. This could turn into a therapy session, you could cry about how you felt ignored and put aside but it wasn't that at all... you were just so horny for Spencer, this frustration building up and ready to burst. JJ sighed softly, patting you on the shoulder.

"I get it... I mean we get it." She points between her and Emily, shooting Emily a smile. "Y/N... You need to have sex or you're going to go insane."

Emily nods, agreeing with JJ's clear over-exaggeration. You felt like you were already going insane, you couldn't do anything without the thought of Spencer's cock down your throat completely eliminating your focus. So although it was clear JJ was being dramatic about it, you felt it was pretty accurate for the feeling inside you. You let out a sigh, pushing your hair back as you leaned back in your chair. You have been at this job for 4 years, and insanity came with the job, so this feeling of complete and utter insanity due to not having sex was killing you simply because it was so new to you.

"Trust me, I know." Was all you said, biting your lip softly as your eyes flicked over to Spencer once more.

He was now leaning back in his chair, his thighs slightly opened as his hands were placed on them delicately. He was looking out the window, watching the clouds go by as the sun started to set. You couldn't help but look at his veiny hands placed so pretty on his thighs, you suddenly gained tunnel vision and your eyes started to outline his cock. Spencer sensed you looking at him, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as he turned his head. He made eye contact with you, sending you a soft smile. Talk about the straw that broke the camel's back, that opened the floodgates inside of you.

"You know what you should do?" JJ asked, trying to get your attention, and in only milliseconds... she had it. "You need to make him want it, it's what I used to do with Will all the time when I was pregnant, and believe me pregnancy hormones are no joke."

How does one go about making someone want them? You were no stranger in the teasing scene, it was your favorite thing to do with Spencer. But you haven't even had 2 seconds to tease him since the drought started, so you were a bit out of practice. Spencer would usually be a puddle on the floor you stepped on in seconds when you teased him, but he was so stressed that he couldn't tell his ass from his head sometimes. You were more than willing to know how JJ did it, and how she made men want her in times of desperation. 

"How?" You ask, feeling slightly more embarrassed by your sudden confusion. JJ thinks for a second, looking over at Emily for her to pitch in at any moment.

"There's many ways to do it, all people are different Y/N" Emily chuckled, looking over at JJ who was still thinking about how she even managed to seduce Will like she did. "My advice is just be overly affectionate with him, you know? Touch him more, show a little more skin, laugh louder... Just make it known, be loud with it."

You took in her words, especially the "make it known" and "be loud with it". You felt you could do that, with how frustrated you had become you could see yourself screaming for him to just fuck you. It would be a bit hard because Spencer is kind of not good with social cues, if you try to flirt with him sometimes, he just throws statistics your way. You repeated the words "make it known" in your head, how could you make it known... at that moment as you repeated it in your head like a mantra, you had such a devilish idea. Your hands almost started shaking due to excitement, the feeling taking over your body as you went to speak.

"I can do that..." You said with a smile, standing up from your seat and fixing your shirt. "I need to use the restroom, be right back."

You basically ran to the bathroom, zooming past Spencer who was quite confused at your sudden rush. You locked yourself in the small bathroom, the excitement taking over your body as you could see yourself start doing handstands due to excitement. You pulled out your phone, setting yourself on the small counter sink as you started to pull your shirt off. You weren't sure how to do this, your nerves getting the best of you as you clicked on your camera. You had no time to think, you just pulled your shirt off and aimed your camera at your chest.

The first one was more of a softcore nude, only in your bra as your hand laid on your chest. You took a couple of pictures with your bra on, then you clicked through them, deleting the ones you didn't like. You would've stopped there but you wanted to go the extra mile, you were "being loud" with it as Emily would say. You pulled your bra off, watching it fall to the floor, the nerves in your stomach only fooling you to go further. You pointed the camera at your chest, snapping a couple of pictures. Again, you weren't good at this... you never claimed to be, so you took pictures from multiple angles and positions. Some you were squeezing them together, some you weren't.... you weren't a model or a photographer so you were working with what you had.

You finished, hopping down from the sink and putting your clothes back on. You sat on the lidded toilet, scrolling through the pictures as you picked the ones you would send. You were nervous to say the least, you knew it was just Spencer but you had never taken sex outside of the bedroom before. This was new, this was scary... this was so arousing. You clicked on Spencer's name, his name being "spencie poop" In your phone, you clicked on the pictures you wanted and hovered over the send button. Would this work? what if he isn't into it as much as you are? What were you even doing?

"Make it known. be loud with it." You repeated in your head, closing your eyes before clicking the send button. It took only seconds for it to send the anticipation building in your stomach. You decided to stay sitting in the toilet for a little longer, getting yourself together before you faced the world behind the small bathroom door. You knew Spencer wouldn't see the pictures until later on, knowing that he always put his phone on silent as he hated technology, especially when it interrupted his reading time. You wondered how he would react, knowing that Spencer didn't know how to react to most things. You wouldn't be surprised if Spencer sent you a thumbs up and a message saying how pretty you look, you weren't sure this would even work in your favor.

You gathered yourself, breathing in and out before you stood up to leave the bathroom. As you reached for the door, there was a small knock on it. You assumed it was someone who needed to use the bathroom, you had been in there for a good 15 minutes before you decided to leave. You reached for the door, opening it... Your heart dropped, your entire body went hot and your underwear became wetter than before. It was Spencer, his face was bright red and his hands shook softly. He didn't give you time to even open the door all the way before he barged into the small bathroom with you, shutting and locking the door behind you.

"Are you crazy?" He whispered, hoping no one else saw him or heard him come in. You were pressed against the sink, Spencer pressed against you as the small bathroom was not made for two. "Are you trying to get me in trouble? what if someone had seen?"

Spencer looked upset but his hard cock against your stomach gave his true feelings away. Spencer could never be mad at you, you knew this and you took advantage of it often. Unfortunately, Spencer was very by the books, he followed all the rules but when it came to you... rules didn't exist. So he wasn't actually upset about the pictures, he was just frustrated you decided to send them now. While Hotch was sitting right next to him, a clear shot of his phone and everything. You bit your lip softly, your eyes being pulled toward his cock rubbing against your belly, there was no hiding that in this small compact area.

"Seems like you liked them.." You teased softly, chuckling out as you looked up at him with doe eyes.

Spencer could have come then and there, your innocence creating a deep desire within him. He let out a sigh, his breath panning across your face as he did so smelling of coffee and mint. You brought your hand up to his tie, fiddling with it softly as you stood on your tiptoes, trying to come face-to-face with him. Spencer's breath hitched as your lips brushed his own, his mind going foggy and forgetting where he was in the moment... Something inside him though reminded him, the small voice in the back of his head telling him this was a bad idea and the team was only feet away from you both. As you started to undo his belt, He grabbed onto your shoulders, pushing you back softly.

"Y/N, that was extremely inappropriate..." He said sternly, trying not to give in to your pleading eyes. "Hotch was right next to me an..."

His words were cut off by your hand grasping his cock softly. In the short time, he had been scolding you, you managed to stuff your hand down his pants, Spencer was far too focused on trying to not give into your motives he didn't even realize. Spencer became putty just then, your hand rubbing his cock slowly cutting his iq down by 100. You knew this was also a horrible idea, I mean were you really going to let your twisted, horny mind risk your job? The answer was, yes... yes you were. If it meant that Spencer would be inside of you, then you would do anything.

"I know baby... I've been so bad." You whispered out, your hand still wrapped around his cock. You fluttered your eyes up at him, watching as his ability to control himself slowly disappeared. "But I had to! it's been so long, you have me all worked up and it's starting to hurt."

You rub his cock softly, his own eyes fluttering shut as you turn him into putty. Spencer hadn't even realized how long it had been, he didn't have much time to think about anything but work nowadays. He didn't realize it until he almost came in your hand just from a few pumps. His body had heated up, his cheeks red as you slid your thumb across his tip. His head was foggy but he still couldn't get past the thought that his boss was just outside the small bathroom you both had been in. He stiffened himself up again, putting a hand on your wrist.

"Y/N, the team is inches away from us." He spoke, pulling your hands from his pants and doing up his belt again. "I promise you I will let you do whatever when we get home to make up for these last couple of weeks okay?"

Trust and believe that it took Spencer his entire self-control to say no to you, especially after seeing those pictures. Your half-naked body, the way you looked up at the camera for him. He wasn't sure if he would be able to get his cock to soften after knowing those pictures existed, he knew this was going to be a long trip home. He struggled with getting his belt looped, his hands shook so vigorously that they were no help to him. You finally reached your hand out to stop his hands, reaching up to lift his head to look up at you.

"Spencer, if you tell me to stop right now... I will." You spoke, you were frustrated and it was so obvious you both needed this. "I will stop and we can walk out of here like nothing happened okay? I just need you to say "I want this to stop." and that's it, I'll stop. But all i need is 5 minutes, I'll get us both off and no one will even notice.``

Spencer thought for a moment, seeing how serious you were. He knew you would never force him to do anything, so he knew if he really did tell you to stop, you would. but he really didn't want you to stop, his "professional FBI agent" side told him to stop but his "love drunk" side didn't want you to stop. All he could think about was your pictures and how uncomfortable this boner was going to be for the rest of the plane ride if he didn't just flat-out fuck you.

He tried to calculate just how far away the team was from the two of you and what the chances of them hearing the two of you were. He came up with it being 72% they won't hear the two of you, due to the fact the bathroom is a bit insulated and most of the team liked to sit far from the bathroom. You could see him doing this math in his head just by the look on his face, you chuckled to yourself knowing this was a complete Spencer Reid thing. Spencer struggled internally, both his logical and hormonal sides butting heads just as he looked down at you with those pretty doe eyes you kept giving him. Spencer was going to burst, the month of no sex finally catching up to him all at once.

"Fuck it..." He said right before crashing his lips onto yours.

Now Spencer Reid must have really been frustrated as he never used words like that, but something about you just sent him over the edge each time. You kissed him back immediately, his hands kept your mouth on him as his tongue slid into your mouth. It was all so fast-paced, just like you said it would be... you just needed five minutes. You reached down to his half-done belt and started undoing it once more, trying to focus on his lips and your hands at the same time. Spencer was so completely engulfed in the kiss that he couldn't even contemplate helping you at all, he just pressed you against the sink hinting at you to hop on it.

You positioned yourself on the sink, Spencer's hands going to your ass to prevent you from falling into it. You finally got his pants undone, pulling them down so only his cock could bounce free causing a soft groan to fall from his lips. You smirked softly into the kiss, feeling just as hard he had gotten just from your little "fight".

"Really liked them huh?" You said through the kiss, Spencer just kissed you harder trying to get you to shut up.

You just laughed softly, your hands now going to your own pants to take them off. You struggled with your pants, trying to keep Spencer's mouth satisfied with your mouth while also trying to get out of your very tight pants. Spencer noticed this, pulling away from you to help you slide your pants down your thighs and watching them bunch up on your ankles. As soon as they were out of the way, Spencer didn't even bother with your panties, he just pushed them to the side and slid himself into you.

"Fuc.." Was all he could get out before he stuffed his face into your neck, silencing his moans that were bound to come out.

Your eyes immediately rolled to the back of your head, gripping onto his shoulders for support. You felt whole again, his cock sliding inside of you like it never left. Spencer didn't sit still for long before he started thrusting inside of you, his hands gripping your hips roughly. Spencer's thrust started rough and fast, taking your word for it only taking 5 minutes. To avoid suspicion and losing your job, you both needed to hurry up and get off.

You couldn't help but get lost in the feeling, finally after weeks of needing to be fucked and it's actually happening plus the feeling of getting caught only added to the pleasure. You thrust back into Spencer, lifting your hips off the counter just to slam your own hips into his. It went like this for minutes, both of you breathing heavily and using each other's bodies to get off. Suddenly you felt a knot inside of your form, your hands moving up to his hair to pull on it to alert him.

"Gonna cum... fuck gonna cum." You whispered into his ear, as his face was still stuffed between your neck and your shoulder. He was afraid if he replied, he was going to not be able to control the moans that came from his throat.

He just thrusted faster, his hand coming up to rest on the mirror as you both were being pushed further and further up onto the sink so the faucet was almost digging into your back. He let out a couple of soft whimpers as his thrust became sloppier, his eyes tearing up as his cock twitched. He'd never come this fast before, only besides the first few times you both had fucked, but this was a record and it was clear he had become so backed up that this was definitely needed.

He came first, coating the inside of your walls with his hot cum, fucking himself through his own orgasm as well as coaxing you to your own. You came only moments later, the feeling of his warm breath on your neck and his hot cum inside of you... you broke. You came with a soft moan and your nails digging into his shoulders. It wasn't the best orgasm he had ever given you but it was so needed, it felt like you had been given water after days of dehydration.

As said before, you needed to be quick so after a few seconds of recovering from ecstasy, you both were pulling your clothes back on. It felt dirty in a way, aftercare, and soft kisses weren't a luxury you had at the moment. You watched as he pulled his pants back on, once again struggling with his belt. You realized how lighter and rested he looked now like the quickie was the thing he was missing his entire life. You chuckled softly, moving your hands down to his belt to help him loop it through.

"Guess we just joined the mile-high club huh?" You smirked up at him, his face still red with lust. Spencer chuckled softly, watching as your hands fixed his belt.

Spencer was almost embarrassed that he allowed you to sit high and dry for almost a month straight, he hadn't even thought of touching you that entire time. Although his mind had been elsewhere the entire time, it still felt wrong for a person to completely deny you of anything. Spencer felt he needed sex as much as you did, something he would have never thought he would ever need. He now understands why Morgan is the way he is, the constant need to feel that closeness to someone... to feel so vulnerable, especially in a job where vulnerability is a weakness. You noticed that Spencer had been in his head again, he always just had that look to him.

"You okay?" You asked, your hands now fixing his hair slightly. "I didn't push a boundary did i?"

Spencer shook his head almost immediately, the feeling of any discomfort so far away it wasn't even there. Spencer felt completely comfortable with you, even if it was such a weird situation to be in. He just got into his own head a lot, letting his mind wander and making up all kinds of assumptions about things. The assumption on his mind right now was that maybe having a healthy, functioning relationship in this field was almost impossible. You both hadn't had a single conversation that wasn't about a case or coffee or anything that didn't involve the office, in weeks. Could you both go on like that or are you both destined to just have quickies in the jet bathroom for the rest of your careers.

"No! Of course not!" He breathed out, basking in your soft hands touching his face softly, something you had done to comfort him. "Just wanted to say sorry for being so distant lately, didn't know you were feeling this...ignored?"

He wasn't sure what the right word to use was and honestly, you didn't know either. You weren't actually angry with him, just frustrated especially when your only kind of stress release was coming home and fucking him till he cried. You continued to rub his cheek softly with your thumb, pushing his hair back from his face.

"I'm not mad honey." You chuckled, trying to reassure him that he did nothing wrong. "Just please start checking in with me okay? So the feelings don't build up and we have to risk our jobs again."

Your joke caused Spencer to crack a smile, his laugh filling the small bathroom. He nodded, leaning down to set a soft kiss on your lips. The reality started to sit in however, you both just fucked on the job basically and the embarrassment and shame were written all over both of you. You both had only been gone for 15ish minutes so it was going to be an easy lie to come up with, you'll probably blame it on your motion sickness that you actually feel often on the jet. You both agreed on a story, you had gotten sick and asked Spencer to hold your hair back, easy enough. You went to open the door, taking a breath before facing your team again.

"Hey y/n?" Spencer spoke, stopping you in your tracks before you opened the door. You gave him your full attention, turning to see his eyes once again filled the lust. "I did like them...You should definitely start, you know I'm...Sending them more often."

You let out a soft chuckle, rolling your eyes before walking out of the bathroom. You both nonchalantly went back to your seats, as if nothing happened. JJ and Emily were talking about something when you got back, completely lost in conversation to realize what had just happened. You looked around at everyone, trying to see an inch of disgust or knowing on their faces. Fortunately, everyone was oblivious to the events that happened in the bathroom so you could relax in your seat. You tried to listen in on JJ and Emily's conversation, putting your two cents in here and there but your eyes kept flicking over to Spencer. He was now boring his eyes into your skin, making your body heat up once again. You could tell that what was supposed to be a simple quickie, was definitely not over yet and it was going to be a long trip home. 

[earlysunshines]

just pretend(?)

danielle marsh x fem!reader ; angst, fluff

synopsis: your coworker can’t seem to fall out of love with you so you convince your best friend to fake date you. sometimes the “fake” seems a little too real.

warnings: PINING!!! ; danielle is touchy and wonderful and reader is a mess ; kinda all over the place?? I'm also a bit iffy ab the pacing on this one ; bit of angst near the end ; alcohol ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread… none of my fics are…

a/n: this is based off my life rn bc my friend and i r literally fake dating so my coworker can stop being in love w me and i just HAD to turn this into a fic like what (but most of this is exaggerated ofc esp the whole coworker thing I made her a little over the top on purpose for the plotLOL)

"absolutely not." hanni looks disgusted, almost appalled with that stupid expression on her face. “you’re crazy.”

"please, i'll pay you." you beg, clasping your hands together and giving her your best puppy eyes.

"you're going to scare the hoes away... no, no, and no.”

"what ‘hoes’ hanni? when is the last time you've talked to a girl." you groan and pinch the bridge of your nose.

she sticks her tongue out at you, then responds, “you wouldn’t know…”

“dumbass the only reason i’m begging is because women do want me. please, it’s not going to be serious or anything—“

“i don’t care, the answer is no. ask someone else!”

you’re currently perched on the edge of your best friend's bed, practically begging for help. you seem to have a knack for attracting the strangest types of people, and this time, it’s your coworker who’s got severe attachment issues and an unhealthy level of codependency. all you wanted was a paycheck and simplicity, but now you find yourself in a situation you never asked for.

your best friend groans again, “you and your flirting… it gets you into this shit time and time again and the way you act… you know what you’re doing.”

“what?”

“shut up, you act gay and you know people fall for that. i’m not gonna help you because you want to be an asshole, if you could just be normal for once—“

“fuck you.” you flop onto her bed, shutting your eyes and rubbing your face. “i’m just nice and it’s fun to flirt! it’s nothing. i flirt with my friends and you all the time, they’re fine with it.”

“that’s because they’re straight, y/n. gay people are very vulnerable – except me.”

“you would know.” you retort, earning a glare from hanni. “who the hell do i ask then?”

“haerin?”

“she wouldn’t.”

“yunjin?”

“we don’t match, plus, she dates around.”

“sakura?”

“edating someone right now, some girl in france?”

“the hell?”

“i know.” you sigh louder and hanni just looks at you with slight, playful disgust. “what do i do.” you flop your hands onto the mattress and stare up. “dude, she’s too obsessed, i’m flattered because i mean, maybe i’m attractive and whatnot but this is just–”

“--delusion at its peak.” hanni clicks her tongue, now smiling at you; an idea pops up in your best friend's big head. you turn to face her, raising a brow. “how about dani? she’s literally perfect.”

danielle marsh is perfect, that’s the problem.

she’s a biology major whose ipad pro notes are so neat and pleasing to the eye that they genuinely keep you awake at night – most of it being because you’re leeching off her, but they’re so neat it really has you thinking how she does it all. 

to make things even more bewildering (and impressive), she’s one of two people you know – you’re unsure whether your cousin hyein counts, high school is nothing compared to what you endure – who manages to get at least eight hours of sleep daily. in contrast, everyone else in your circle, including yourself, is barely hanging on by a thread. 

yet, danielle seems to have cracked the code. she even finds time to volunteer at the library where she works, making you wonder if she’s some sort of extraordinary being. her ability to balance everything so effortlessly leaves you in awe, often questioning if she’s even real considering how remarkable she is.

the worst part is that she’s your best friend, right after hanni, and the person you’ve been crushing on since your first semester of university. 

it’s impossible not to have a crush on her—she’s gorgeous, sweet, and embodies everything you could ever want and more. she’s captivating, and every time you see her she flashes that stupid, adorable smile that makes your heart do a flip regardless of how many times you’ve convinced yourself that she’s unattainable and that there’s no way and that you don’t even like her and–

“i couldn’t.” you shut hanni down, quick. “she’s… you know.”

hanni furrows both brows, turning her head. “she’s what?”

“you know.” you make some strange gesture with your hands that only confuse hanni further. 

“i don’t, just fake date her.”

“she wouldn’t agree.”

“sure she would, let me call her!”

you shoot up and look at hanni with an expression that screams ‘are you out of your mind?’ as she finds danielle’s contact on her phone. 

before you can stop her, you hear a ringing sound and feel your body give up. hanni grins at you when danielle picks up five seconds later, both of you hearing a friendly, “hi!” as you back away from her.

“hey mo dani!” hanni greets, giving you a shit eating smirk. “miss l/n has a question for you.”

“she’s with you?” danielle’s voice is sweet like honey even from the phone. “hi!”

“hey!” you greet a little awkwardly, glaring at hanni. 

“y/n was wondering if you could date her.” 

eyes widening, you leap and grab the phone from hanni immediately, sputtering out jumbles of words nervously, “n-no! i mean, yeah… but not for real.” 

“oh,” you hear danielle respond lowly from the end of the phone. “wait, i’m confused.”

hanni watches you close your eyes tightly, clearly flustered and thrown off by her little antics. 

“y/n came over to ask me to date her, not actually, but just like, pretend.” hanni explains, “her coworker is still in love with her.”

“sarah?” you hear from the other end of the phone. “i thought you rejected her like, three months ago.”

“i did, but she’s still… ugh.” you flop onto the bed again and danielle hears hanni laughing in the background. “she’s still stuck on me i think, i don’t know, she’s been so…”

“if it’ll stop bothering you then i’ll help!”

“you will?” you respond, shocked. hanni mouths an i told you, then gets shoved. 

“yeah! i don’t want my best friend being so bothered, it must make you uncomfy too, right? working with someone who likes you?”

you start to wonder if danielle would be uncomfortable in a similar situation, maybe in one where she’s friends with someone who likes her, but she’s unaware of that. you shake your head, clearing your mind and staying present.

“kind of, it’s just… extra stress.”

“okay, then let’s date!” she beams, you can picture her eyes scrunching and smile growing. you want to die (affectionate) just thinking of it. “this should be fun!”

“thanks for helping out dani, thanks so much. i’ll let you be, okay? gotta go um… run errands.” 

“alright! just text me, bye, love you.” the call ends and you sigh again, feeling yourself sink deeper into hanni’s sheets.

hanni is very much your mortal enemy, she still doesn’t know why you’re so distraught because of danielle. whatever the reason may be, it makes her cackle next to you.

–

it’s nine in the morning, you didn’t have time to pregame the lecture on microbiology with at least three shots of espresso, and you’re yawning as you leave the room.

you hear your name being called out and turn to see no one other than the feeling of hot chocolate on a cold, snowy day turned into a person walking towards you – danielle.

“hey! hi.” she greets, smiling wide. her hair is clipped up and small strands of her hair stick out cutely. “hey baby.” 

you almost choke. “what?”

“did you forget we’re dating now?”

“oh.” dating, but is it even that if it’s not real? “um, hey babe?” it comes out uncertain and danielle laughs.

“wow, you suck at this – it’s okay, we’ll work on it.” she giggles, then links her arms with you. “let’s go get coffee, i need it in my system right now. oh my god, it’s our first date!”

laughing to hopefully fade away all signs of being flustered to oblivion, you tighten your arm that’s locked with hers. “right, yeah.”

you’re going on a ‘date’ with the prettiest girl on campus, she’s paying for your iced americano with oat milk splashed into it, and she’s smiling at you like you’re laughter in the rain. this can’t be good for you, it can’t be — it’s not. you wonder whether this will be worth it in the end because your coworker doesn’t even know about any of it.

(yet.)

–

before your next shift with your delusional coworker, you and danielle have already conjured up a storyline and backstory for your whole arrangement.

you two conversed for an hour after walking towards the park near her apartment and sitting down next to each other on the swings like kids. danielle was giggling and you were smiling at how charming she looked. unfortunately, you found yourself falling even harder for her just from making up the whole fake story.

danielle suggested keeping it simple, but cute: you two met at the library she worked at, you found her cute and exchanged numbers, went on a few dates, and have been girlfriends for nearly two months.

“but i literally told sarah that i wasn’t looking for anything.” you explain, sighing as you kick the mulch on the ground. that’s what you had said, but what you meant was that you’ve been looking for danielle the whole time. “she won’t believe it.”

“well,” danielle gives you a cheeky look and giggles. “i managed to charm you in a way that pushed that whole idea aside. that’s not too unbelievable, right?” she winks at you and you feel your heart stop momentarily.

you scoff playfully and snicker, “oh shut up.”

“it’s part of the story! are you saying i have no charm…”

she has too much charm. 

“dani, you’re such a dork.”

“a dork that caught your heart! i think this story is perfect.”

pushing aside the slight ache in your heart and the flush in your cheeks, the two of you formulate a first date story: you took her out bowling, where you lost terribly to her (danielle insisted this detail had to be included), and then you both had dessert together at your place. 

it’s not a terrible story, not at all. even hanni would be impressed, but you’re not going to tell her because she’d tease you both relentlessly, and you’re not sure your heart could handle that.

–

danielle walks you into work holding your hand, your coworker, sarah, watches the whole thing.

a pretty girl (pretty is an understatement in your opinion) smiles at you while walking you in, she’s telling you about the little kids she read to the other day and you can’t help but marvel at the excitement coursing through her.

she drops you off near the register right before the small ‘employees only’ sign, then holds both of your hands and looks at you like you’re a flower that’s just bloomed beautifully.

she pauses, observing you closely, then smiles wider. “okay, i’ll get going sweetheart.” the pet name makes you swallow subtly. “have fun at work!”

she takes her hands away from yours, making your skin feel a little colder. “bye, see you.”

danielle glances at your coworker, who’s looking at her with something mixed with confusion, anger, and a hint of disgust. she then looks back at you – a better sight in her opinion – smiling and waving once more before walking away.

you stay there, frozen for a few seconds, before walking behind the counter and setting your bag down.

as you grab your apron, you catch sarah in your peripheral and turn to greet her. “oh, hey.”

“who was that?” she asks immediately. “what’s up with the ‘sweetheart?’”

you grin as while tightening the lace of your apron, then respond, “my girlfriend.” and it feels wonderful rolling off your tongue.

“what? i thought you didn’t want anything?”

“you still in love with me or something?”

she feels her throat dry as she looks at you pat down your apron. “w-what?” she stutters, shaking her head. “no, why would i be…” her tone isn’t convincing, and neither is she when she adds, “it’s just… what’s with the change of heart?”

“she’s really charming,” the thought of danielle begging you to mention that makes you blush. “i like her a lot.”

sarah fights back a frown, instead, her lips twitch into a forced smile as she walks past you to tend to a customer.

–

danielle picks you up from work just to tighten the knot, and sarah also witnesses all of it.

both you and your coworker get off at closing, and after locking the doors, you run into danielle. 

she’s standing outside in a baby tee and jeans, a cap perched jauntily on her head. the moment she sees you, her face lights up into a pretty smile, and you instinctively return it. she rushes over, wrapping her arms around you in a warm hug. as she pulls back, she scans you with a playful yet affectionate gaze, her eyes lingering on you with a mixture of admiration and curiosity.

“sweetheart! i missed you.”

“i missed you too dani– baby…” you mutter the last part shyly, making danielle giggle. “you came? it’s late.”

“i wanted to pick you up, can your girlfriend not do that?”

it still sends a shiver down your spine – hearing danielle call you that. you rub the back of your neck and look away nervously, then respond, “of course not, i’m just surprised.”

sarah looks at the two of you, scoffing under her breath. danielle hears it, turning to look at her and grin, raising her brows along with it before meeting you again. she places a hand on your shoulder, then mumbles, “well, hanni called us over, i wanted to scoop you.”

“ohhh,” it makes sense now, she wouldn’t willingly pick you up just because of the whole ‘fake dating’ thing, there had to be a motive. “alright. i can drive? if you’d like, you know. you must be tired from work too.”

“aw, you’d do that?”

“i um,” you cough, avoiding her eyes again because she’s making you feel all flustered without doing much. “yeah, it’s nothing… baby…”

she grabs your hand, fingers intertwining before dragging you along to her small suv, then handing you her keys. 

your coworker groans now that you two are further, narrowing her eyes at danielle when she turns back not so subtly to make sure sarah is looking. any normal person would back off, getting the hint that the person they want is unavailable, but sarah sees it as a challenge, somehow.

there’s nothing she can’t achieve when she puts her mind to it, that’s her mindset.

you’re oblivious to how insane she is, too clouded with how touchy and giggly danielle is after the whole interaction when teh two of you get in the car.

–

danielle sits besides you on hanni’s couch, leaning against you a bit. “yeah, she gave me a glare, it was kind of funny.”

“pftt– i guess it’s working then?” hanni asks, walking over to hand you two juice from her fridge. danielle takes it happily and it makes you smile a little. 

“i hope so.” you sip on your peach juice. “but she’s like, clinically insane.”

“is she?” danielle questions, tilting her head as her hand finds its way to your bicep. you blush.

“dude, she was crazy.” hanni rubs her temple. “like, oh my god, she was going insane for a good while because y/n didn’t want her like that. i saw their messages and–”

“okay i’ll tell the story thank you.” you scoff. “she’s really competitive, and i guess new to romance? considering how she reacted i don’t know, she’s very…”

“sensitive?” danielle asks – you shake your head.

“i mean no, but kind of. she would get jealous over me really easily and was kind of codependent, like everything i do affects her or something. i’d just go on my day, but she’d always be so reliant on me and text me so often and i just… it’s so much.”

“ah, i see. how long has it been since you rejected her?”

“a few months. i thought she stopped liking me since it’s been so long, but lately there’s been tension and she’s looking at me how she used to…” hanni listens closely as she watches you rub your forehead, looking a little distraught. “i just, oh my god she has terrible attachment issues it’s concerning. the only thing i could think of was pretending to date someone.”

danielle nods in understanding.

“yeah, one time i went to see y/n at work and she looked so like… hostile. that’s not normal, we’re visibly friends.” hanni adds.

you know the exact afternoon that it happened, what hanni mentioned that is. 

she had pulled up to drop something off, and you teasingly flirted with her, hugging her as thanks. afterward, you rang up one of her orders and played with her fingers, a little habit you had developed to annoy her. despite the evident look of disgust and annoyance on hanni’s face, your coworker—who allegedly liked you a bit too much—looked like hanni had just slapped you in the face or spat at you.

long story short, hanni glanced over to see the coworker glaring at her menacingly. in response, hanni poked at you once more before hurrying out with a latte in her hand, confused and slightly terrified.

“yeah she’s… got a bitch face.”

“it’s not normal to glare at people that simply interact with your coworker…” danielle mumbles. “i’m sorry to hear that.”

you wave your hand, giggling lightly. “it’s nothing, really. i mean, i just don’t want her to be so obsessed and stuck on me, i think us pretending to date should tame the fire.”

pretending. 

the word makes both you and danielle tense up.

–

you clock in again, greeting sarah. 

she smiles brightly at you, waving and you have to make a little gesture to remind her there’s a customer in line. sarah turns away bashfully, then takes the man’s order with a hint of attitude. you’re not very fond of that.

he orders an americano, so you immediately get to work, weighing out grinds of espresso, tamping it down, and pulling two shots. as you do so, sarah pulls up next to you and nudges your shoulder.

“hey,”

“hi.” you respond, not looking up from the cup in your hand. “did you need something?”

“that t-shirt looks good on you, have you been working out?”

you feel uneasy the moment she says it, swallowing a lump in your throat. you pour the two shots over the hot water and force a response, “thanks, and um, no.” before calling out the order.

sarah continues to watch you closely as you throw away the used espresso, then says, “your girlfriend didn’t drop you?”

“she’s working.”

“right. i’d find a way to drop off my girlfriend anytime that i could.”

“good for you?” you look her in the eye again, clenching your jaw. 

“you don’t post her much on your socials either, are you guys really a thing?”

fuck. 

you scoff, “what kind of question is that? of course… i just… don’t post much. we’re still kind of new to this.”

“right, she’s not even your lockscreen.”

“i’m going to grab some beans from the back,” you interrupt, redirecting the conversation away from the topic of your alleged girlfriend. sarah narrows her eyes at you as you turn away from her, stepping away and disappearing towards the storage area.

once you’re alone, you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling the weight of the strange interrogation settle on you. there was an unmistakable hostility in sarah’s tone, a sharp edge that cut through the air. hanni’s right, she always is. the mere thought of enduring six more hours with sarah makes you want to crawl into a hole. her jealousy is palpable, and it eats away at you, gnawing at your nerves.

you pull out your phone and quickly dial danielle, pacing back and forth as you wait for her to pick up.

“hello?” she responds less than ten seconds later. “what’s up?”

“she’s catching on, kind of. i think she’s jealous.” 

“sarah?”

“yes.” you groan, then lean your back against the wall. “i can’t work like this.”

“i’ll come over? do you need me to?”

“no, but can we meet after? i think we need to be more public, if that’s okay.”

you hear her confusion through the phone. “what? public?”

“like, soft launch or something. i just need to make it obvious that i’m quote on quote dating someone – you. and we need a lockscreen together.”

a giggle is heard on the other end of the line, “oh wow.” danielle mumbles teasingly, “this is pretty serious.”

“i hope i die.”

“aw, don’t say that babe. just come over to the library after, okay? good luck on your shift! i have to clock in soon too.”

“can we meet at my place?”

“anything is fine, that’s alright.”

“i literally owe you my first born, dani.”

“it’s nothing, this is quite entertaining.” she says, and you smile with the phone at your ear. “call me later, okay? send me updates.” 

“right, yeah.” you almost whisper, “thank you.”

“it’s nothing, sweetheart.” her laugh is infused into the sentence, making your chest burn.

–

“this is so dumb.” 

you are so dumb. this isn’t helping your case.

hanni and minji are fighting back laughter while you try to naturally rest your hand on danielles knuckles. you’re stiff and it looks anything but natural. 

the angle you take the picture at makes it look awkward, and the picture’s quality sucks too. 

“just relax.” danielle says, then holds your hand instead. “here, let me take the picture.”

you’re trying to keep your cool while minji and hanni watch and danielle, the prettiest girl you know, holds your hand and scoots closer to you in order to ‘soft launch’ your fraud of a relationship. her hand is nice in yours, her skin is soft, and she’s so close you can smell the vanilla fragrance she uses. 

danielle snaps a quick picture, then the rest of the bunch – including you – scoot over to look at the picture.

“well would you look at that! it’s perfect.” danielle beams, grinning at her work. “post that one.”

“holy shit.” minji says in awe. “no yeah, you could fool me with that.”

“anyone could fool you, dumbass.” you snicker, looking up at her and smirking.

“i hate you.”

“oh, i guess you don’t want free food from my work…?” 

minji groans, making you laugh. 

danielle’s hand is still in yours, you don’t fully register it until you realize you need both hands to post a picture on your instagram story. she seems a bit disappointed when you let go, though you barely notice – and even if you did, you might just chalk it up to your imagination.

it's fun, no doubt about it. yet, you can’t help but wonder what it would be like to take pictures of you and danielle that aren’t staged or orchestrated. you long for authenticity, capturing moments that are mundane and candid.

the thought lingers in your mind the whole time, even as you pose with your back to the camera, pretending to cook alongside danielle. it's all set up and artificial, every movement planned out, yet danielle starts giggling and leaning into you – a spontaneous gesture not part of your last-minute brainstorming. 

her laughter is genuine, her touch warm, and it makes you wonder if maybe, just maybe, not everything is as fake as it seems.

–

you wake up from your nap and groan as your ringtone renders you awake. blindly, you slap your hand in every direction on the bed until you feel it under your other pillow. someone’s calling you, that’s all you can make out since there’s a red and green circle. 

tiredly, you mumble, “hello?”

“hi! are you busy?” it’s danielle’s voice responding, shaking you awake. 

“oh, um, no.” you say as you sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes and running a hand through your hair. “are you okay? did something happen?”

“i’m fine! i was just wondering if you were free. you sound tired, were you sleeping?”

“i just took a power nap that’s all. what was it that you need?”

“oh, sorry to wake you.”

“it’s fine, seriously.” 

“well,” she starts, “i was just wondering if you wanted to go out together?”

“oh, me?”

you hear her giggle through the phone and smile softly. “i mean, i am calling y/n, aren’t i?”

“yeah, you are.”

“and i’m asking you, my girlfriend, to hangout. it’s like a date!”

“we’re not actually dating danielle, you don’t have to pretend when we’re calling and alone.” you say quietly, pursing your lips.

it’s not that you hate it, danielle being all lovely and playing the role of your girlfriend too well. the thing is, it feels like you’re getting led on, and the way she is just gives you false hope to something real.

danielle feels a little ache in her heart when you respond like that, but she pushes it away for the time being.

“i don’t mind it, it’s fun!” she beams. “anyway, there’s free ice cream downtown for couples, do you want to grab some?”

“is there? yeah, i’m down. do you want to take the metro?” 

“that’s perfect, there’s probably so much traffic.”

“alright, i can scoop you and take us to the station in fifteen minutes, okay?”

“perfect.” she closes the conversation, and the call ends.

you flop down on the bed again, just for a moment. your eyes are fixated on the ceiling above as you breathe in, thinking about everything. 

you and danielle aren’t dating, not for real. it’s just a show, a sham. she simply wants to hang out for free ice cream, nothing more. you know this. you set yourself up for this whole fake dating thing—well, kind of, considering hanni was the culprit behind this whole arrangement.

it’s already been over a month, and danielle doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest, treating the whole thing as no big deal. you must be insane; you can’t keep doing this knowing your feelings are growing and she most definitely doesn’t feel anything real. it’s just to benefit you, and she’s a great friend who’s willing to help you out. yet, each time you pretend, it gets harder to separate your act from reality.

despite the turmoil, you’re up and finding a change of clothes in order to make danielle happy. because even if she’s not your girlfriend, she’s your friend and you love her regardless.

(sometimes the love you have claws you from the inside.)

–

danielle clings to your arm the whole way down to the city. sometimes she clings a little tighter than usual, then goes silent, and it makes you breathe deeply.

it takes a few wrong turns and teasing to get to the icecream place, there’s already a long line with actual couples. you feel out of place in a way; there’s partners holding the other by the waist from behind, setting their heads on top of the others. a few are just holding hands or lingering close and you can just sense all the love and adoration in the air. 

you swallow shallowly, tensing your jaw because danielle is close to you, but not because you two are something more than friends.

“wow, so many lovebirds.” she says in awe, gazing around.

“uh huh.” you feel her hand slide down your forearm, then her fingers intertwine with yours as she looks up at you. “hm?”

“to seal the deal.” she shrugs, smiling. “plus, your hands are big… and warm.”

“you have small hands.”

“perfect fit for yours.” she giggles playfully, making you do the same. “what flavors did you want? it’s two scoops for free.”

“you can pick both, i don’t mind.”

“what? c’mon, you should pick one.”

“no, you wanted ice cream. i’m just here to make you happy.” you admit, tightening your grip on her hand. 

she starts to respond, but stops for a few seconds. you watch her look away bashfully, staring at the ground and grinning to herself. she shakes her head, then says, “you’re so lovely…”

“pfttt, i just want you to be happy, seriously.”

“you know,” she begins, looking at you again. “whoever manages to become your girlfriend would be real lucky.”

“oh.” your lips twitch into less of a smile and you pause for a moment. “maybe.”

“this fake dating thing is making me realize that you’re such girlfriend material.”

a small laugh stifles the tension and awkwardness in you, “thanks? you are too.”

“am i?”

“yeah.” you stare into her eyes, shes everything you could wish for in a person. “very.”

before danielle can respond, the line moves, and it’s time for the two of you to decide on two flavors. it takes a while to do so, with you declining the offer to chime in and pick a flavor you want, danielle was the one to invite you out anyway. but she looks at you with puppy eyes, pouts, then puts a hand on the side of your bicep and it makes you cave in.

the final choices are salted caramel and coffee.

danielle holds the cup in one hand, drags you away from the area littered with lovey dovey couples – some being too lovey, considering they can’t seem to get away from each other – and leads you blindly towards a small alley in a neighborhood until a bench comes into view. she pulls you towards it eagerly, making you laugh until you’re both sitting next to each other.

you frown a little as you look at the ice cream in the cup. “some of it is melted.”

“not all of it!” danielle beams, then scroops a spoonful of the coffee side – the flavor you ended up choosing. “you have the first taste.” she says, bringing it closer to your mouth.

“wait, you should have it.”

“too late,” she starts to move it in a circular motion, saying, “ahhh~” as she does so.

you scoff, then lean forward and all of it is in your mouth in one bite. danielle watches your eyes light up.

“it’s good.” you mutter, then grab the other spoon to scoop the other flavor. you mirror what danielle did before, making her laugh just as much. “open wiiiiide~”

“ahhh~”

you snicker before moving the spoon into her mouth, she closes it and smiles immediately, melting in place despite the ice cream being pretty cold. 

the street lights make her look precious, highlighting the satisfaction on her face because of some simple ice cream she’d gotten for free. you want to see her this happy everyday and as much as you can. 

a small hint of ice cream is on the corner of her lips, it urges you to bring your hand over and wipe it off with your thumb. danielle stops savoring the dessert, instead, focusing on you. 

“sorry, there was… yeah.”

“mhm.” danielle says, staring at your lips. “it’s really good.”

“i can tell.” you turn away, feeling flustered when she looks at you like that. “let me try your flavor.”

the two of you continue to eat ice cream together, subconsciously scooting closer and closer as you share it. danielle’s head ends up on your shoulder when the cup is empty in your hand, silent in her place.

you don’t budge, mainly because she seems comfortable and you don’t mind ruining your posture a bit if it’s for her. she sighs contentedly, moving her hand over to hold yours in the midst of the moment, slotting together effortlessly. she doesn’t say anything, but you feel her lean into you a little more.

“you okay?”

“just happy.”

“ah,” you rub your thumb against her skin. “that’s good.”

“being with you makes me really happy.”

“being with you makes me happier.” you say softly, staring at your hands aligned seamlessly. “do you want to stay here for a bit longer?”

“please.”

“it’s getting late.”

“i know, just a bit longer.” danielle says.

just a bit longer. if only the whole arrangement could last forever, if only you two could be this close and warm for lightyears.

minutes pass, and neither of you move, lost in the comforting silence. the only shift comes when you turn your head to press a gentle kiss into her hair. danielle feels perfectly in place, her heart fluttering at the tender gesture. a soft smile spreads across her face, a silent acknowledgment of the moment's sweetness.

–

the night prior had to be a dream, it was too perfect. it was the realest you’ve felt with danielle, the closest to something romantic. it was even enough to consider that she felt the same, and you’d love to revel in that possibility, but you have to restock the beans and cups quickly before tending to the drinks.

there’s only thirty more minutes until your shift ends, it feels like eternity.

sarah catches you smiling to yourself throughout the shift, biting the inside of her lip. she’s filled with all too much: anger, jealously, dissapointment, and really just everything that makes her uneasy. 

she still can’t believe it, you had gone on a whole tangent telling her you couldn’t be in a relationship and now you’re being a complete loser in front of her. she hates it, she wants it to be her that makes you smile randomly throughout the day.

what pisses her off more, and truly makes her lose all hope, is when you go from looking tired and drained to bubbly and smiley as soon as a familiar figure starts walking toward the counter. 

she watches you check the time on the register, your smile widening because you can clock out and be with danielle, who’s waiting just across the counter. the change in your demeanor is undeniable, and it stings sarah to see the joy that danielle effortlessly brings out in you.

you walk over to danielle, reaching for her hand. “hey.”

“hi.” the way danielle says it makes your chest warm and sarah nearly gags in return.

what makes sarah's shoulders sink, her heart drop, and her frown deepen is when danielle suddenly kisses your cheek. 

the shock is evident on your face as you stand frozen, your hand instinctively moving to hover over the spot where danielle's lips had just been. the tenderness of the moment is overwhelming, and sarah can't help but feel a profound sense of loss. the realization that your heart belongs entirely to danielle crushes any lingering hopes she had, leaving her to face the painful truth.

“w-what was that for?” you look over and make eye contact with sarah, who’s grimacing. “there’s um, you know… bystanders.”

“i missed you, so much. i couldn’t stop thinking about you.” danielle says simply, not bothering that sarah is the only one who’s witnessing this, and from a few feet away too. “do you want to get dinner?”

“it’s three in the afternoon silly.”

“well, anything is fine. we should study before we eat! i heard the module mr. lee assigned us was really helpful for…” 

the rest of what danielle says doesn’t register in your coworker’s mind. she studies you closely, her frown deepening with each passing second. it’s painfully clear to her now—you’re genuinely in love with danielle, and there's nothing she can do to change that. the way you look at danielle, like a child seeing a rainbow for the first time, leaves no room for doubt. 

it dawns on her that giving up is the only option, and she feels a pang of resignation settling in her chest.

–

nearly three months have passed and both of you have still been ‘pretending.’

neither of you acknowledge that it’s fake, not during the weekly dates, study sessions, and late night walks or movie nights that end up in the two of you falling asleep together. danielle doesn’t think twice when kissing your cheek here and there, even your knuckles when she thinks you’re asleep. 

you figure that maybe it’s okay to kiss her cheek too sometimes because she’s her lips turn each time. and when you pick her up for weekly dates, she happily jumps into the passengers seat of your car as if it weren’t just a mutual agreement. sarah has already given up, considering she seems defeated, and you wonder if you should too. 

you can’t tell if it’s just how danielle is, which eats you inside. everything feels all too real, and your feelings only grow more unbearable.

–

you shouldn’t have let jimin drag you out to minjeong’s party. she’s already left the moment you stepped into the house, she’s probably gotten a hold of a drink already.

jimin had noticed how deeply stressed you've been lately. your responses were slower, your shoulders seemed permanently slumped, and the stress was practically etched into your face. being one of your closest friends, jimin decided that it was time for a change. she was determined to get you out and help you relax, knowing how crucial it was for your well-being (and social life, to be completely real).

walking around, you scan the crowd for a familiar face. unfortunately, the only people you recognize are sunghoon and jake, who have a history of hitting on you despite your clear disinterest. they still haven't grasped that you're a lesbian. you quickly decide to steer clear of them.

the only reason you’re here is because you’ve been throwing yourself into your studies, staying late at the gym, and doing too much to avoid danielle – or even the thought of her.

(which is unfortunately impossible since every little thing reminds you of her.

the flowers on the counter at your work remind you of her smile, the couch in your apartment is where you two have spent hours together, and really, you’re hopeless.)

you find jimin outside on the porch with her other friends that you’ve only talked to once or twice. they’re all talking about something, clearly tipsy, and you’re walking over to linger near your friend.

“y/n! oh my gosh girl, where have you been? come here, have a drink!” jimin grabs your arm, pulling you in and hugging you like she hasn’t seen you in forever. “here, take a shot.”

she hands you a shot of what you assume is some cheap vodka, you didn’t even have time to pregame for this. you’re not against drinking, not at all, if anything you’re all for it. there’s videos of you in groupchats shotgunning beer and finishing with barely any reaction – but tonight, you don’t know if you’re in the mood for it.

one won’t hurt, maybe it’ll erase danielle from your mind for a moment.

“fine.” you grab the small glass, then bring it to your lips and cock your head back, eyes pinching for a brief moment as you swallow. “shit,” you mumble, “give me another.”

you don’t know what has taken over, because you’re downing two more without hesitation. jimin laughs and smiles proudly at you.

for a brief moment, everything feels fine. the music blasting from inside the house, a mix of charli xcx and the chatter of your friends mocking one of your professors and jake, makes you laugh out loud. amidst the chaos, you find a beer in your hand, and somehow, you manage to tolerate the taste. wonyoung appears too, and hands you another after you quickly finish the first. you accept it, even though you're already starting to feel a bit fuzzy.

jimin looks at minjeong with a sparkle in her eyes, and you subtly push her a little closer until their shoulders touch. they exchange smiles, and you watch, feeling proud of your matchmaking. 

your heart sinks as it suddenly reminds you all too much of danielle. the fondness and spark between jimin and minjeong make you frown, your grip on the beer tightening as the bittersweet memories flood back.

“fuck,” you practically whisper. “i need to, i’m going to get more um, drinks.” 

“hm? okay.” jimin says quickly, then turns back to the girl she’s linking arms with.

your head pounds, so you gulp down the can of beer in your hand, then crumple it and toss it toward a trash bin in your line of sight. 

as you make your way to the kitchen, you spot a bottle of vodka and pour yourself a shot into a plastic cup you found. the liquid burns your throat, intensifying the ache in your head. despite this, you pour another shot, perhaps a bit too generously, hoping to numb the growing pain and the emotions clawing at your heart.

the room feels like it’s spinning, you’re walking down some hall and blinking and blinking until you reach a bathroom. thankfully, no one is making out in it, but you check the shower for safety measures. 

you’re finally alone, groaning as you fall against the wall of the bathroom and slide down until you’re sitting on the bathroom floor.

clumsily, you grab your phone from your back pocket. the screen lights up to a picture of you and danielle, cheeks squished together and smiling. 

you stare at it for too long, your breath hitching and your vision blurring as the ache in your head intensifies. the happy memory contrasts sharply with the heaviness you feel now, making it all the more difficult to look away. she just looks so cute in it.

you tap your screen again, and another picture of her appears. it’s a picture of her asleep in the passengers seat, head tilted uncomfortably and lips parted slightly. you had set up your lock screen to cycle through images of danielle, initially to fool sarah, but also because seeing danielle’s face as soon as you pick up your phone makes you feel at ease. each photo captures her different expressions—laughing, pouting, lost in thought—and they all make you grin. 

the happiness you feel is bittersweet, knowing it’s all part of an arrangement that feels increasingly real to you.

your vision is a little unclear, but somehow it sharpens just so you can see her perfectly.

“fuck,” you gasp out, unlocking your phone and trying to navigate to your recent calls. you had called hanni earlier and she had just been lounging at her place. you figure that she’d be able to take you away from here.

you squint, pressing on the contact that has a and n, assuming it’s hanni, then wait as the phone rings.

“hello?”

“hanni, i’m… can you pick me up?”

“y/n?” her voice is muffled when it reaches your ears, “are you okay? what happened, where are you?”

“jimin… dragged me out. i drank… soooo much.”

“y/n, oh my gosh.”

“hanni, stay on the line, please.”

“i’m not–” the voice cuts off, you drop your phone on the carpet. “hello?”

“you have my location… right.” you slur, head leaning against the wall even more. “hanni i can’t do it anymore.”

“y/n, i’m on my way. are you alright?”

“hanni, i can’t.” you groan, staring up into space. “i don’t want to fake date danielle anymore. it feels too real, i hate it.”

silence follows before you hear the voice on the other end of the phone.

“you can’t? why, why didn’t you tell her?”

“she seems happy, and… we just, don’t acknowledge that it’s not real.”

“y/n…” 

danielle sits in her car, heart sinking. 

you dialed her on accident, and it doesn't seem like you know it’s her. 

“please come. please.”

danielle gulps, feeling tears forming in her eyes. 

–

danielle scavenges through the house your location on her phone has brought you to, looking around for you helplessly. 

she makes her way to the porch and spots jimin, who’s hands are on minjeongs neck as she holds her in place. danielle walks over, not wanting to disturb the intimacy, but you’re her biggest priority, so she’s willing to do so.

“jimin,”

she turns around, looking at danielle confusingly. “oh, when did you get here?”

“where’s y/n?”

“hmmm… she went to get drinks a while ago, she hasn’t come back yet. try the kitchen?”

“okay, thank you.” danielle says hurriedly, then rushes back inside.

she checks the kitchen, only to see jake and sunghoon with beers in their hands as they cackle loudly. you’re nowhere in sight, making her bite her lip in frustration.

danielle goes through every room on the first floor until she reaches a bathroom. she pushes the door open, and it suddenly stops, hitting someone. a groan escapes from behind the door.

"i'm so sorry!" danielle rushes out, peeking around the door to see who she’s just collided with. "y/n?" she gasps, eyes widening in recognition and concern.

you’re sitting against the wall, hair tousled and cheeks red. there’s a white tank top hugging you, the thin straps of it loose against your skin from your posture. 

“hanni?” you look up, squinting. “i wanna go home.” 

you see the figure move closer to you and close the door, then she squats down and you realize it’s not hanni. danielle comes into view, her eyebrows creased with concern. your cheeks flush even harder, and your lips part.

she puts a hand on your forehead, then cups her cheeks with both. “are you okay?”

“you’re not… hanni.”

danielle’s shoulders fall down a bit. “hanni um,” danielle hates lying, but she’s doing it now to save you from spiraling. “she sent me over.”

“oh.” the response from you cracks her heart slightly. “okay.”

"let's go," she says firmly, helping you up. despite being taller and more muscular than her, you lean on her for support. danielle manages to steady you with surprising ease, guiding you out of the bathroom and through the house, her grip strong and unwavering.

–

you collapse onto danielle’s couch and groan, your body is limp against the cushions.

a few moments later, she comes back with a cup of water, placing it on the coffee table before she sits you up. she tilts your chin up and you look at her with wonder as she grabs the cup and holds it to your lips, “drink.”

“mhm.” you mumble, sipping slowly and swallowing. 

your vision clears slightly, though it might just be danielle who’s grounding you. her concerned eyes meet yours, and while guilt tugs at you, you're also captivated by her beauty in this moment. you're drunk and out of your mind, thoughts muddled and unfocused.

“pretty.” you sigh dreamily. 

“y/n,” her voice is laced with uneasiness. “drink more water.”

“okay.”

“and stay the night, okay? you um, left…” she swallows hard, fighting back a frown. “you left your clothes here, i’ll go grab them.”

“can you stay with me though? will you? i really… just… i want you here.” 

danielle bites the inside of her lip, her eyes wide with confusion. just moments ago, you had admitted that you wanted to stop the whole ‘relationship’—that it had become too intense, too overwhelming. and now, you’re asking her to stay? her mind spins with the jarring shift in emotions.

you lean in, clinging onto her. danielle feels the warmth of your breath and the softness of your nose brushing against her neck. the touch sends a shiver through her, and she swallows hard, struggling to steady her breathing. as you pull back, your faces are mere inches apart. you lock eyes with her, your gaze heavy with so much. 

there’s a lump in her throat. “okay.”

–

danielle wakes up with you on top of her and your head in the crook of her neck. she hears you breathing softly and subconsciously, her hand slides into your hair.

why are you so confusing? danielle wonders, twirling your hair with her pointer finger. is this what you really want?

you’re incredibly considerate, a trait that’s always shone brightly. the way you go out of your way for her—planning dates, cherishing every moment together, simply because it makes her happy—fills her with a bittersweet feeling. she adores these shared moments, savoring the illusion of authenticity. but now that it’s clear that all of it strains you, it weighs heavily on her heart.

you stir awake, your breath warm and rhythmic against danielle's skin. as you hum softly, her cheeks flush a delicate pink. she feels the gentle pressure of your arms tightening around her, pulling her closer. you shift, nestling deeper into her, finding a more comfortable position. each movement sends a shiver through danielle, leaving her heart fluttering like crazy at eight in the morning.

she doesn’t know what to do.

–

danielle doesn’t ask you out or come over the whole week, excusing herself by saying she’s busy or caught up with things. of course, you don’t comment on it – she’s not really your girlfriend, you shouldn’t expect her time and affection. 

but then another week passes by and you don’t get any texts back, sometimes she even leaves you on delivered for hours. that’s not like her at all. 

you catch her in class and she’s still the same danielle you know – bubbly, pretty, and sweet – but that’s really the only time you see her these days. 

it’s confusing, all too confusing, so you barge into hanni’s apartment on a thursday evening because she’s the only one you can rant to about this.

“you didn’t even text me–”

“oh my god i think danielle fucking hates me.”

hanni lets you storm in, walking towards her room and flop onto her own bed. you look devasted, especially when you rub your face in your hands and groan loudly.

“okay, first of all: why the hell would she? second of all: yeah, why… why would she…?”

“she’s been avoiding me and i have no fucking clue why.”

“dude what.” 

you recount the entire story to hanni, animatedly illustrating every detail with exaggerated hand gestures. “so, jimin practically dragged me out to unwind, and i ended up drunk out of my mind!” you say. your hands wave dramatically, punctuating the story as you describe stumbling around, the room spinning, and how the whole ordeal felt like a whirlwind. 

hanni watches, her amusement growing as you explain the night’s events. “jesus.”

“yeah, and then danielle came and picked me up.”

“she did?”

“yeah… you called her over… didn’t you?”

“dude, what are you talking about.”

you pause, looking at her with confusion evident all over your face. then grab your phone, heart feeling strained when you see danielle posing with a stuffed animal that one time – out of many –  you two went to the mall together. you click on the phone app, looking at your recent calls and scrolling down to roughly two weeks ago.

you see hanni’s contact name, and then danielles after.

“hanni, did i… did i call you that night? two weeks ago, the friday night i went out.”

“dude you only called me that morning or something, you left something here.”

“oh my fucking god.” you gasp, putting a hand over your mouth. “oh my god.”

“y/n what.”

“i drunk dialed dani and i thought it was you. she told me you sent her to grab me…”

“what did you say to her?” hanni asks, looking at you with slight worry.

you groan, rubbing your face again. “i… i said i didn’t want to fake date her anymore.”

“oh, well that’s not too bad.”

“no, i remember it somehow. i said i hated it.”

your best friend looks at you, confused again. “you do?”

“yeah, but like, no?” you groan once more and fall onto the bed again. “hanni, i’ve… i’ve liked danielle since first semester.”

“oh.”

“yeah, oh.”

“you’ve been fake dating and simultaneously in love with her?”

you sigh. “yes.”

“holy shit.”

“yeah. i think she took it the wrong way, maybe she thinks i hate her?”

“you need to talk to her.”

“she doesn’t want to see me.”

“no, she’s so fond of you. i honestly think she likes you back.”

“okay it’s not the time for that–”

“shut the hell up bro.” hanni pinches your cheek and you slap her hand away. she begins again, “dude, she rambles about you and shit. there were times i actually thought you guys were really dating.”

“i wish.”

“then make it come true!” hanni groans. she pulls you up, then puts both hands on your shoulder. “you need to go talk to her, stop being a pussy.” 

“it’s not that–” 

your phone vibrates in your hand, snapping you out of your animated retelling. instinctively, you glance down and see a notification from danielle. hanni notices the shift in your expression, quirking an eyebrow as you stare at the screen, looking visibly distressed. she leans closer, peeking at the notification.

as your face unlocks the phone, the text is revealed: "can you come over? we should talk." your mouth drops open slightly in shock, and hanni mirrors your expression. the room suddenly feels heavy.

“dude.” hanni points at the screen – the obvious. “she–”

“fuck me.” you mutter, “fuck me.”

“dumbass,” hanni says, pushing you off her bed. you curse and look at her with “what the fuck?” written all over your face. hanni stands up and continues to push you out her room, saying, “go see your ‘girlfriend,’ even if it’s not real you better go talk to mo dani.”

you sigh, pushing her off you and grabbing your things before you walk towards hanni’s apartment door. you stare at the handle, then the text, and linger for a moment. hanni puts a hand on your shoulder and you look at her.

“i’m fucking terrified.”

“well you’ll feel even worse if you don’t go, so go.” hanni urges, opening the door and nudging you out.

–

the air is cold, it’s really just cold outside and it makes you shiver more than you already are just from the thought of the interaction.

you’re outside danielle’s work, sitting on the steps because you can’t bring yourself to go in and approach her directly. maybe it makes you a coward, but you’ve always been nervous about seeing her willingly and making the first move. the minutes stretch on, each one making you more anxious, but you can't help it. the thought of facing her, of initiating that crucial conversation, ties your stomach in knots. she called you out here anyway.

wind hits your cheeks and you bite your lip, walking around in your place in an attempt to warm up. then, you catch someone in the corner of your eye, so you turn around and meet danielle.

a loose sweater drapes over her frame, and wide-fit linen pants hide the shape of her legs. the wind tousles her hair just as it does yours, but she looks effortlessly angelic, stopping your heart for a moment. her hair, caught in the breeze, frames her face in a way that makes her seem almost ethereal, temporarily making you forget your worries.

then she’s walking toward you, and you remember why you’re here.

you swallow hard, body tensing. 

“thank’s for coming, i’m sorry i haven’t been.. um, able to spend time with you.” she looks nervous, her eyes avoiding yours and hands fiddling with each other. she stares at your necklace instead as she continues, “i’ve just… i wanted to talk to you about what we have.”

“right, i wanted to talk to you about it too.”

“oh,” danielle says quietly. “i’m sorry, i didn’t want to be a burden. you called me instead of hanni the night you got drunk and i know how you feel about fake dating. i’m sorry that you had to do it with me and it caused you so much stress i just–”

your heart aches as you listen to her ramble, guilt evident in her voice for something that’s not her fault. you can't bear to hear her blame herself. your brows furrow with pity as you gently cut her off, “danielle, no, let me–”

“stop, i want to make myself clear. i want to explain a lot of things to you, you’re so lovely and sweet and you don’t deserve to be so stressed. it’s just, okay, wait.”

she pauses, breathing in, and looking at you with tears lining her eyes. your breath shakes looking at her like that, you can’t breathe or speak in the moment.

danielle purses her lips before continuing, “okay, when hanni first said you wanted to date me, i got so excited because well, i always thought you were cute.” she turns her head to the side and bites her lip before looking back at you. “and then you said it wasn’t an actual date, you wanted it to be fake. i don’t know i just, i felt really sad when it happened but at the same time the thought of fake dating you didn’t seem too bad because i’m selfish and i mean, i liked you a little and i thought i could just fake it and revel in the artificial aspect until i got over it but i ended up falling for you so much and i’m sorry. i don’t want you to think im anything like sarah–”

“danielle, stop.”

“no, y/n i just want to explain myself–”

“danielle, shut up, oh my god.” you gasp, looking at her in disbelief. “you, are you fucking with me?”

she looks at you, still feeling guilty. when she blinks, two tears fall down her cheeks and she inhales sharply as she conceals a sob. she turns away, then murmurs, “no, i’m so sorry.”

“n-no, no. dani, danielle.” you almost breathe it out, then bring both hands to hold her face. your hands cup her cheeks making her face you. “please stop crying, i’m sorry, baby, i’m sorry.”

“b-baby?” she says, confusing taking over her features. you had gotten so used to calling her endearing pet names that it slipped out so suddenly in the heat of the moment.

the lights outside shine just enough for you to see her clearly. her eyes are watery, tears staining her cheeks, and you use your thumb to gently wipe them away. her nose is a little pink, and so are her cheeks. of course, she’s a pretty crier too, but you look at her with guilt, shaking your head as you continue to stroke her cheeks with your thumb. the sight of her like this breaks your heart even more.

“i only said i hated it because it was all too real, but not in a bad way. not at all.” 

“really?” she says between sniffles. “w-what do you mean?”

“i’m saying that,” you use your thumb to rub a tear threatening to fall from the corner of her eye. “i hated it because i couldn’t take the fact that it wasn’t real. i wanted it to be real. danielle, i’ve wanted to be yours since you first gave me the notes from the first lecture we had together.”

“what?”

“danielle,” you almost whisper, then kiss her forehead. “i like you so much. i don’t hate you, or this – i hate that it’s not real.”

her mouth opens in shock as she looks at you, sniffling. you anxiously wait for a response, hoping she'll say something, but she doesn’t. instead, she hugs you, wrapping her arms around you tightly. you return the embrace, holding her just as tight. the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you in the nerveracking moment.

“i like you too – a lot. i was so scared when you said you hated it, i thought i was making you uncomfortable and gosh i just felt so bad and–”

you rub her back with your hand and cut her off, “i was anything but uncomfortable, i felt like i was living in a fantasy.”

“thank god.” danielle sighs in relief. 

you pull away, looking at her again and wiping remnants of tears with your thumb again. “i’m sorry for making you cry.”

if you could go back and punch yourself for being stupid — you’d do it in a heartbeat. a dumb slip up and miscommunication from your lips is the reason danielle’s nose is still tinted pink from crying, you feel guilty as ever.

in your hands, it feels like you hold the world. she shakes her head in your hold, then smiles from relief.

“it’s okay.”

“are you busy after this?”

danielle giggles, shaking her head again. “if you’re asking me out on a date – a real one – then absolutely not.”

“dinner? it’s on me for being stupid that night, and this whole time.”

“perfect.”

you smile sweetly at her, your gaze lingering on her lips. before you know it, you lean in and boldly peck her right then and there. she gasps when you pull away, looking at you with widened eyes as you back off. but then, she reels you in again, leaning closer and kissing you once more. the kiss is soft and warm, filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that have built up between you. you feel her smile against your lips, and everything else fades away.

when you part again, you look at her fondly and ask, “wait, this is real, right? like, we’re…”

danielle laughs, hastily pecking you once more and lingering close.

“i don’t think it’s the alcohol that made you so dense and stupid.”

[messyoungie]

SELF CARE DAY FOR LOW ENERGY DAYS

it’s important to have different routines ready to match your mood and energy level. which is why I believe preparing for self care days for when you’re just not feeling your best is essential and a great way to look out for yourself. here’s my guide to self care days for low energy.

✧ 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

despite your low energy, it’s important you still get your daily movement. however, exercise doesn’t always have to be intense.

try doing one of these

— 2 minutes of touching/trying to touch your toes

— 5-7 minutes of full body stretching

— 10 minutes of yoga

or maybe just stretch your neck, roll your shoulders, and take a few deep breaths. whatever you’re ready to do :)

links to short low energy workouts:

5 minute morning yoga

11 minute stress relief yoga

10 minute lazy girl workout

8 minute good morning pilates

✧𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃

do something for your mind. journal, get your thoughts out, meditate, read five pages of an inspiring book. do something that you will love and that your mind will thank you for. whether it’s sitting in silence for a few minutes or playing a game that’ll challenge your brain.

journaling prompts <3

++ what’s been draining your energy recently?

++ what’s been giving you positive energy recently?

++ what’s your focus been on lately?

++ what are three things you’re happy are in your life?

++ how is my environment impacting my energy?

if your energy is low I really recommend writing about it. what’s making you tired? reflect on it and go easy on yourself.

✧𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐎 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

the last thing you want to do is give your mind the responsibility of remembering your tasks. i don’t care how little you have on your schedule, write a to do list. on a low energy day, it’s important we’re easy on ourselves. getting everything out of our head and onto a piece of paper will not only make tasks seem more manageable but will also make our minds feel a bit lighter.

write everything. I mean it. even the small and seemingly insignificant tasks. even the parts of your routine that you do everyday anyways, write it all down.

✧𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

even though we’re a little bit down, that doesn’t mean we can cheat on the promises and boundaries we made with ourselves.

a low energy day doesn’t mean you can jump right back into your old habits. you’ll only feel worse if you do. it can be comforting to spend the whole day in bed, liking relatable TikToks and having a 7 hour screen time. but that’s not real rest. do something that’ll nourish you while also making you feel relaxed and comfortable. whether that’s watching an episode of your comfort show, rereading a chapter of your favorite book, or listening to your all time favorite songs while you just relax.

low energy is not a reason to practice unhealthy bad habits.

✧𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘

how do we enjoy a low energy self care day besides the usual rest and relaxation? by doing some activities!!

things you can do on a low energy self care day:

++paint

++do your own nails

++movie marathon of your fave genre

++install and try out different cute & cozy games on your device

++bubble bath

++make a Pinterest board or Moodboard that will inspire you to be the best version of yourself

thank you for reading, take care!! ♡

— messyoungie

[cherry-leclerc]

don’t lock the door ☆ cs55

genre: fluff, humor, smut, angst, thriller/suspense, mentions of depression, mentions of suicide, mentions of homicide, erotic literature, tragedy

word count: 9k

An oleander is beautiful—yet deadly. You’re beautiful—yet deadly. But Carlos has always been gentle, and has always known how to take care of things he loves. And even if he doesn’t, he’s willing to learn, just for you. But you can’t outrun secrets. Not when they have everything to do with the only thing he adores—you.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+... fingering, riding, car sex

STOP AND READ:

The story you are about to read is not meant to be admired or looked up to. Regularly, the types of fics that I like to present to all of you are light, humorous, and sweet. While I feel that this story does have occasional glimpses of that, it also deals with heavy topics such as; suicide, depression, and homicide. At the end of the day, I care about all my readers, so if any of you feel like this is not something for you then you are always welcomed to head over to my masterlist for much lighter reads. You all know me by now, so you must know that sometimes I like to mix a story of traditional love with a dash of real life struggles, such as trauma and guilt, in this case. With that, I hope you enjoy word for word.

cherry here!...did you miss me????

Tension is normally one’s enemy. It’s fairly simple, you try your best to avoid what makes your skin crawl. Isn’t that how the story goes?

Not quite. 

There’s tension, yes, but it's only because you’re the opposite sex. Nothing beyond that. It could also be because you’re both introduced to each other as a pair of miserable singles. Lewis is the person you share in common.

She’s a close friend, he proclaims as you two shake hands. The touch is sticky, just like hot glue— and for a minute—it feels like a knife cuts this invisible strain in half. He lets himself salivate over your lioness stare; dark, sharp, amorous. You lean towards him just the same; dominant, mature, suggestive.

I’ve seen you race.

He hums, still attached to your desirable touch. Yeah? Why haven’t I seen you then?

Fingers press sternly against his warm skin, as if to provoke him more than he already feels himself falling into. It should be alarming the way his mind slips into a frenzy because of it, but likes it. The rush. 

Maybe because I wasn’t rooting for you.

There. Right then, he disconnects. I was hoping that wouldn’t be the case.

You grin. Well, now you know. 

“You know what? Mingle—”

“Who says mingle?” you and Carlos question at the same time, judgemental eyes staring coldly. 

Lewis blushes. “I-I-Is that not a thing anymore?” Silence. “Fuck, I really am getting old...”

The night consists of mimosas, because according to you, it reminds you of your late-mother. “She liked something fruity, but also fun enough to make her head spin. It was entertaining to watch.”

“How so?”

“She’d ramble on and on. Slurred about her dreams.” A sad smile. “That’s the only reason why I ever found out she wanted to become an author. She was fifty—five decades too old—but she said she wanted one last adventure before retiring. It didn’t even matter if she made it onto the New York Times Best Seller list.”

The way your eyes even out, round and almost doughy, makes him trip for a second because this is not the same girl he shook hands with nearly three hours ago. No, this version of you was almost childlike, but he supposes that's how everyone who loses a parent becomes. 

It comes out shy—closed off—your laugh. As if you just caught yourself being too vulnerable. That was always the worst. “Look at me making you my therapist. I have got to stop doing that.” 

His mouth opens lamely, ghostly scoff sitting upon his lips. And if it were to be released, it wouldn’t hurt your feelings. It was a weird thing to note. “I like hearing you talk.”

A beat. “We’ve only just met.”

Carlos grins, crinkles tracing the corner of his eyes like some beauty. “Then let's meet some more.”

The opportunity is there, the kind you’ve been looking for. With a sheepish smile, you nod. “I should warn you though, I’m a bit of a mess.”

Finally, the scoff escapes. And like envisioned, you laugh at the sound.

“Consider me warned.”

-

He fucked you that same night in the back of his car. It was late, so dark that you barely even had the chance to register the fact that you squirted all over his vintage Ferrari. 

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he pants as he snaps his hips up again, fast motion making you head loll bad. You wonder what he means, but as soon as his long fingers circle your swollen bud, you’re just as good as gone.

He asked you out an hour later, when he dropped you off right in front of your apartment. You happily accepted, unable to hide your excitement. 

Your smile falters. “Give me a reason as to why I should say yes.”

“Um, well, you sort of already said…yes?”

The confusion that settles onto his handsome features makes you glow with satisfaction. “I could always change my mind. Pretend this night never even happened.”

Panic rushes harshly against his shoulders. He doesn’t even know why he cares so much, but he does. 

Vulnerability is a bitch. 

“Huh,” he hums, relaxing against his seat, head hitting the expensive cushion. And you can see it. The challenge. He clicks his tongue, bored all of a sudden. “Listen, I want you, but I certainly don’t need you.”

You realize right there and then—you met your match. 

You realize right there and then—you two share the same green pride. 

You realize right there and then—

“It was nice getting to know you.” 

-

The only reason you’re even friends with someone like Lewis is because your mother married rich.

Filthy fucking rich. 

Then, somehow, married richer by her third and last marriage. The man was twisted, but you never knew just how much. Not for a very long time. 

He dabbled in stocks, or some boring shit like that, and later invested in some other crap. Somewhere along the line, you met the Brit. 

The same Brit who now hisses at you through the phone. 

“God damn it, what happened? Weren’t you two getting along?”

You sigh, rubbing your feet together as you admire the way the navy blue paint covers your pedicured nails. Stormy clouds match your mood as you shake the bottle of pills that lay on top of your desk. 

“He’s too vain.”

He groans. “You my dear, dear friend, are looking into a mirror then, I suppose.”

A sharp gasp. “Are you insinuating I’m the same?”

“If the shoe fits…”

“May I remind you that you sit and stare at yourself for God knows how long before any race? Newflash, dickhead, you’re going to sweat, look like shit, and one out of ten times, you’re going to win.”

“I see I triggered something.” He sighs heavily. The sound tells you he’s not really upset or anything, but more so worried. Ever since she died, you’ve been that way. 

Snappy. Defensive. 

“Hey, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be. I know you.” 

And although he can’t see, you still smile fondly. Rattling the bottle of antidepressants, you inch up higher and higher onto your chair until you face your own reflection. Shattered glass stares back at you as you feverishly look down. 

“Do you still have an extra pass to this weekend's race?”

-

There had to be something wrong with you. Everyone could tell, and quite frankly, you could agree. Would you admit to it out loud? No, now that’s something different. Or maybe you’re just odd. That would also make sense. Whatever it was, it would explain as to why everyone around you screams with excitement as the fast cars fly by. You, on the other hand, simply stare with straight lips and empty eyes.

While all clap cheerfully when Lewis finishes on the third step, you cross your arms. While everyone runs out of the Mercedes garage to declare front row, you drag your feet slowly to the last. 

While Carlos makes eye contact as he lifts his trophy—notably bigger than the Brits—you yawn.

You’re not impressed.

She’s not impressed, the Spaniard remembers thinking to himself as he smiles wider towards the stacks of cameras that turn him temporarily blind. He selfishly thinks you’re here for him, but he knows that's straight bullshit. Truth be told, it didn’t seem like you were here to support your friend either.

“It’s been so long,” Lewis huffs in disbelief as you stare across with vacant eyes. To him, you’re simply jetlagged. “Can you believe it?”

An exhale. “You did good.” Extending your legs outward, you admire the black tiles that shine back brighter than if it were to be white. “Drinks. On me.”

The Brit laughs. “Deal.”

-

Somewhere close by, they play jazz. 

“Pretty,” you softly speak as you connect your lips to the glass. The live band sways back and forth, only adding to the charm you seem to like. And you like it a lot. “Dance with me.”

Lewis snickers. “I love you to death, but I’m gonna have to go with no.”

You frown. “Come on. I never ask you for anything.”

“You were born with a golden spoon and have used retinol since you were ten, you’re not allowed to ask for anything when you’ve already had everything.”

“Yeah…well not this.” You’re secretly envious of every lady in the room. The way they beam with sincere smiles at their husbands. Boyfriends? Flings? Affairs? Who cares honestly, you were jealous nonetheless. 

The Mercedes driver watches as your fingers lazily tap against your lap, as if signaling you’re free. Guilt slithers down his neck as he sighs in defeat. “Fi–”

“Nice seeing you two here.”

Lewis wants to cry with utter thankfulness as Carlos inches closer with a lousy grin. “Hey! Oh God—hey.” You blink. “Wh-what are you doing here? Not that I’m complaining, of course, because I’m not.”

The Spanirad shrugs. “I won. Wanted to celebrate, I suppose.” Brown eyes flicker towards you like thunder and suddenly you feel naked under his gaze. You swallow. “You look nice.”

And there it is again—tension.

He cocks his head to the side, almost as if waiting for a compliment of your own. Instead, he finds himself being ignored. Crossing your legs, you lift the empty glass up as the bartender hurries for a refill. 

Finally, Lewis speaks up. “I think I’m gonna hit the hay—”

“Who says hay?” you and the brunette spit out with snarkiness. You bite back a smile while he releases a chuckle. 

The Brit stands up, chugging the rest of his drink as he waves you two off. “I’m not that old,” he shouts as he turns the corner and disappears. 

Carlos takes the time to catch up on your appearance. Last time he saw you, you had longer hair, now it appears you’ve had a trim. He likes it. You were slightly tanner, but now appear a shade lighter. It could just be because it’s winter. It's nice seeing other versions of you. 

“So, how have you be—”

“Why are you still here?”

He freezes. It takes him a while to find the strength to open his mouth. 

“We never finished our conversation.”

-

He didn’t fuck you that night, no, he took you dancing. And maybe that’s why it worked this time around. Instead of taking the time to learn all the different types of moans you have, he took the time to learn all about your upbringing. 

I learned how to bike when I turned six. Had severe trust issues for a year, so I tried again when I was seven.

That must be where your scars are from, he thinks to himself, but he finds them endearing.

I like long hair, I find it beautiful, but as soon as it’s starting to grow out I think it looks too weird on me. 

That must be why your hair is shorter than he remembers, but he loves it. Has the urge to run his fingers through.

My favorite movie is How Harry Met Sally, but quite frankly, I don't find Harry attractive at all, so I never really understood why Sally settled down with him after so long.

And you’re honest. Brutally honest. And he finds that attractive.

“How about you, Mr. Singapore?”

I learned how to kart before I learned how to bike, actually. I, too, have scars on my hands from small crashes. 

You blush as you hide yours beneath your coat. 

I have two sisters, so I mainly learned how to dance because of them. I hated it at the time, but now I’m quite grateful.

Is it possible to swoon harder?

And I don’t have a favorite film, necessarily, but I’ve watched How Harry Met Sally, and I would agree. Sally was too good looking for him. 

You have to laugh. “Is that so?”

He smiles. “The name Harry sounds so…” He winks cooly before running a hand through his locks. You giggle. “He looks more like a Bob.”

“Oh my God! Could you imagine? How Bob Met Sally?” You pause. “Wait, that actually doesn’t sound half bad…”

He chews on his bottom lip slowly, nodding in agreement. Silence engulfs you two as you stare at each other with round eyes. He’s the first to crack a loopy grin and you quickly follow with a sheepish one. Then, it vanishes and he’s left looking like he swallowed a frog.

“Listen, about last time…”

“Long forgotten.”

He halts, almost surprised by your response. “No, no, there’s no need to pretend, I was a—”

“Jerk?”

The Spaniard rolls his eyes. “Great, so you haven’t forgotten.”

You shrug. “I’m a girl. We remember everything.”

“Got it,” he declares. “Ask me again.”

Now it’s your turn to freeze. “What?”

“Ask me why you should say yes to a date with me.”

“You don’t have to do this, we’re good—”

“I know we are, but I still want you to ask.”

You lick your lip anxiously before relaxing your stiff shoulders. He tilts his head as if urging you and you nod. “Why should I say yes to you?”

Satisfaction settles. “Because you like a good challenge.” He leans closer. “And isn't that what this is?”

-

Carlos Sainz Jr. was made for you.

“Leave me alone,” you scream, veins throbbing, as you rush past him, heading towards the guest room. You’re glad his parents aren’t home at the moment because Lord knows the embarrassment you would feel.

“No. Not until you talk to me.” As simple as that. Your eyes twitch as you turn back, then bring your hands up to your hips. He adores it when you do that, though he probably shouldn’t right now.

“You want to talk?” You let out an unhinged scoff. “Oh, would you look at that, he wants to talk! Now he wants to talk. Well guess what, fuckhead—I don’t.” 

With that, you march out into the balcony. His eyes follow the way you light up a cigarette. The way you drink the last drops of champagne that linger in the bottle gifted to you by his mother. 

She was kind. She was beautiful. She didn’t deserve someone being this mean to her son.

You barely recognize him because of how blurry your vision is, but his scent does it. Musky. Woody. Calm. 

He hands you the familiar pill, then a glass of water. He rushes the champagne away, then takes the cigarette and squashes it against the cold floor. He doesn’t so much call you out for being a lunatic, for upsetting his dogs with all your yelling, or for pushing him. No, he doesn’t do any of that. And you have never been more in love with him than now.

“I know I can be a bit much sometimes…” A sniffle. “I swear I try to catch onto it so you don’t have to deal with any of this, but—”

“You don’t mean it.” He tangles his fingers through your hair as you sob. And it’s soft despite spending the entire day near the ocean. It feels silky. He’s obsessed. “I know you.”

-

You were made for Carlos Sainz Jr.

“How do I look?” 

“Like an angel.” He swears he turns bright red when you blow him a kiss. “Your name must’ve been Bonita in another life because look at you…” A hand flies up to clutch onto his heart as he makes a face. “Though, I must say, you do know how to make me look bad.”

You giggle. “Oh? This old thing? I thrifted it. Nice, eh?”

He groans. “Very, but you’re supposed to be rooting for Spain.” A gag. “Not Italy.”

You frown. “That's all I had. Plus, you’re basically Italian given your working status.”

“No, amor, they pay me to like Italy. It’s a cover up, think about it.”

You huff, popping your hip outward. “Still. I like it, so I’m wearing it while cheering for the opposite team.”

“Always over complicating things.” He laughs. “Can’t say I’m surprised, you’re a complicated person.”

A deadpan expression. “Suck your own dick.”

“Oi, relax.”

Spinning to face the mirror, you fix your jersey one last time before skipping out the door, tube socks sliding as you go. The Spaniard lets out a dreamy sigh. 

Were you flawless? Not at all.

Were you put together? Not without a prescription.

But he loved figuring it all out with you. And that’s called love.

-

You’re in the middle of a rampage, during dinner. While everyone stares at you puzzled, he simply laughs at your cartoon expressions. 

“I mean, I offered!” A pout. “I clearly stated I could get the cap signed for her and she gave me the nastiest, ugliest, dirty-looking glare! I for sure thought her face was permanently damaged.” You relax against the chair, your shaky hand finding its way to your water bottle. “Like sorry for riding your favorite driver…”

Charles laughs nervously. “I don’t think that was a necessary thing to include…” 

You shrug, raising your brows over to your boyfriend who struggles to breathe. 

The conversation flows easily, like most nights you're all together, but this time there’s a minor bump. You’ve been good about it; avoiding the question for so long. Over the course of time, you’ve managed to be so mendacious, that truly no one knew the truth. Not even Carlos.

“I hope it’s not overstepping, but how did your mum pass?”

He means no harm, Lando, but you just wish so badly that you could believe that. While Carlos and Lewis were the closest thing you have to a family nowadays, even they knew not to ask. You never laid the rules out loud, but they could tell it was an unwanted topic to have on your behalf, no matter how curious they got. 

All of a sudden, your mood deteriorates. The look in Lando’s eyes makes sure to strike off as an apology, but you’re so busy looking down onto your lap that you don’t even pinpoint the meaning. The table grows awkward as time ticks by. 

No one has the power to change the subject, save you the same way doctors tried to save your mother—because they, too—wonder. 

You gulp, feeling small, but far too seen at the same time. It was confusing. “She, um…her last husband…” Everyone feels bad, like you’re some limping puppy, zigzagging down an empty highway, but remain quiet. Then, you look up, stone cold but the tip of your rosy nose and blotchy face is enough reassurance that you still have a beating heart.

“Husband number three strangled her to death.”

You say it like you don’t care. Like it hasn’t affected you at all, and that makes Carlos blink twice as fast as everyone else in the table. A droplet makes its way down your cheek as you let out a light laugh. 

“I guess he thought he was some Superior God who had a say in cutting her time short.”

They all freeze. 

“I am so sorry for asking—” 

“I didn’t need to respond.” You smile lamely. “It’s fine, Lando.”

But it’s not, not even close. They ripped the confession out of your throat, at least that’s what it felt like. No one stepped up, no one said anything. 

Your eyes flicker to the only man who makes your heart speed. 

He reaches for your hand and you grip it hard.

No one said anything.

Not. Even. Carlos.

-

You’ve always excelled at holding a grudge. It came fairly simple. 

But as you stare at him through the screen, for the first time—and only the first time—you struggle. Maybe it’s his puppy eyes that betray you, or his gentleness anytime he steps near you, you don’t really know. 

And you don’t want to.

“I was thinking mariscos.”

Hair flies past your eyes as you squint. He looks particularly handsome today, wearing a linen shirt that drapes over him like some silver armor. Long waves brush against his temples as he returns the squint, slightly smiling at your lips. 

“Sounds good to me.”

Soft music roams the isolated restaurant that almost seemed to belong to just you two, and that helps you relax. You could tell it helps him too. 

“The car felt good today.”

“Yeah?”

He nods, biting onto a piece of shrimp. “Felt like I was flying.”

You let out a whistle. There’s a comfortable silence that lingers for a while before you raise a brow up to the open sky. “Hey,” you start as his orbs flicker up with all the attention in the world. “Do you believe in angels?”

A moment. “I’d say so, yes. Yes, I do.”

Hum. “You sound freakishly sure.” You inch forward with teasing eyes. “Why?”

“Easy.” Chocolate orbs swirl with adoration. “There’s you.”

“I don’t count.”

He frowns. “And why not?”

“Because you love me, of course you’d say that only to be nice.”

“I say so because I know so.”

“Love is blind, love is blind,” you chant, sipping on his open can.

A second ticks by. “Why do you ask?”

And like the first night he met you, your eyes merge into doe eyes. “Because I do.” A sheepish grin. “And sorry to disappoint, but it’s not you.” 

“What’s his name?” he jokes.

But you’re not even listening. “My mom was pure. She was a good person, Carlos.” A beat. “She’s my forever angel.”

His heart physically hurts at your glossy eyes, immediately reaching for your hands. “You must really miss her…”

A wet laugh. “Is there a word stronger than ‘really’? If there is, then that would be one way to say it.”

And he has to apologize, even if it’s seven days too late. 

“I’m sorry for not stepping in that night. I-I-I should have said something and you should have said nothing.” Thick brows knit in together. “You don’t know how shitty I felt, but—”

“You wanted to know as well.”

The way his features freeze is enough confirmation. And you can't be mad. Not even a little. Not even a lot. 

“That doesn’t make you a bad person, Carlos. I should have been more open and honest with you first.” A gust of hot air slaps you across the face. “I tend to shut out people like you because…I don’t know.”

“Vulnerability is a bitch?”

You laugh. “That’s one way to say it.” Orbs scan his beauty with no shame before falling back. “You still have plenty of questions, don’t you?”

“O-of course not.”

Another laugh. “It’s okay. You caught me in a good mood. Go on.”

He’s awkward at first, but slowly eases with the sound of your breathing. “Why hasn’t he been arrested?”

“Because he’s a multi-billionaire.”

He gulps and you blink. “Why haven’t you sued?”

“Because I’m not a multi-billionaire.”

“So…he did a cover up with a wad of cash?”

“Mhm. No one dared ask whose hand shaped bruise was imprinted in her neck.”

He’s caught off guard by your bluntness, but he knows he needs this because he knows it will keep him up the same ways it’s kept him up since that god forbidden dinner. 

“This was the cause of your…” He doesn’t even want to finish his sentence.

“Depression…yeah. Losing someone you love will do that to ya.”

But he wants to ask—he wants to ask more because he knows there has to be more. He’s lost people he loves too—and he loved them very much—and he never got this way. In a flash, he feels guilty for comparing his healing process to yours but quickly looks down onto his lap. 

And the hot summer rain is enough warning for him not to question you any further. 

The Spaniard shares a grateful smile. “Thank you for trusting me. To take care of you, and all t-that,” he stutters, blushing.

“I love you, Carlos.” A beat. “I’ve always trusted you. The only person I don’t trust is myself.”

-

“Be quiet,” she hisses, urgently signaling you closer. “And make sure to shut the door.”

Confused, you hesitantly push until you hear a click. Inching closer to your mom, you slowly become more and more lost as you eye the scattered papers all over your step-dads office table. “What is all this?”

Color drains from her normally youthful face. Even the brightest shade of red can’t help add life. “Proof of embezzlement.”

“What?”

She slides stacks of black folders towards you and you quickly flip through, to which you don’t understand a single thing. “He’s stealing money, that’s what. We’re not talking thousands, we’re talking millions,” she whispers frantically before growing green. “Oh God, I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Okay, okay, hold on, you’re okay.” Rushing to be next to her, you clumsily tie her hair up into a messy ponytail before fanning her with the white sheets. You wince, quickly placing them back down. “How did you even come across this?”

Just as fast as a lighting bolt, she spins the chair. “I’m starting my book—” She gags, “I was supposed to start today, but I came in here looking for his typewriter. You know, the one with the tiny cherubs?” Across the office, you spot it, the tiny angels delicately painted onto the infamous typewriter. You nod. “Well, I started to search for some paper and instead found all of this…”

Even you grow dizzy as you eye the infinite zero’s that jump out against all types of sums. That’s not even enough to spend in ten lifetimes. It was no wonder he just recently made it onto The Forbes list. Her eyes—honest as ever—make you panic as you twirl your thumbs. “Wait…you’re not thinking of confronting him about it, are you?”

“I have to.” Pause. “Right?”

No. You don’t want her to. Not in any scenario. It’s taken you both so long to reach the life you deserve, and now that you were finally here it’s about to be ripped away from you? Your lack of words makes her glare. 

“I don’t know why I’m asking you, I have to! It’s the right thing to do.”

Adrenaline. “Mom, just think about it—”

“I did not raise you to be avaricious,” she spits out, fire practically fuming out of her.  You flinch. “I’m going to talk to him.”

“Y-you’re right.” There goes all your money down the drain. “I’m with you no matter what.” 

Knock knock.

Like mother-daughter, you both freeze as your eyes flicker to the sound. 

“Angelica, are you in there?”

You never liked the name Angelica. Not on anyone else that wasn’t your Angelica. 

Running over to open, she finds herself face-to-face to Lucifer himself as he cocks his head in humor. “Locking me out of my own office now?” He enters. “Fun.” Dark eyes roam the messy area. “Fun.”

Her eyes plead with you in a language only you both knew, but never did you mean to obey. You wanted to stay with her—something told you to stay with her. 

“Honey, give us some privacy, yeah?”

“U-uh…” He winks like that was the go-ahead. Like that was the last permission you needed to agree. And maybe it was. 

Deep down it’s almost like you knew he had sinister intentions. Deep down it’s almost like you knew he was capable of committing those sinister intentions. 

Deep down. 

It’s like you don’t even care.

You smile, tight lipped. “Whatever you need.”

You heard the argument that night, you heard the threats. You heard her pleads, you heard her chokes. You could only imagine what was going on inside, but you were your mothers daughter. You could imagine quite a lot. 

She could’ve been an author—with his resources she might just have hit the New York Times Best Seller list. She could have been a grandmother one day—surely your kids would have lived a luxurious life. 

She could have been obedient. Why wasn’t she obedient? Was it so hard to brush it all under the rug?

He was sweating, just as much as a pig. Or maybe he’s glowing, he is smiling after all. Here and there he apologizes in a lousy manner, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was—

“How much money am I gonna get to keep?”

He’s intrigued. “How much do you want?”

“Enough to not have to worry.” You can still see it; cramped rooms, tin canned meals on paper plates. You could never go back.

An eye roll. “You’re just like her…” A beat. “Fucking greedy.” You can feel the blood rush to your cheeks. You’re embarrassed—-of course you were—who is he to judge? He sighs. “No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“It means I’m not transferring you anything. I want you out of this house no later than Sunday.”

Plump lips open, then snap shut, teeth gritting. “I’ll tell everyone that you’re a murderer. You’ll lose it all, w-watch.”

He’s not phased. Not even in the slightest. “And who’s going to believe you? Tell me, really, because I’d like to know.”

Fuck him for having everything. Fuck him for having everything. Fuck him for having everything.

And fuck yourself for having nothing at all—again.

Months swept by, the death was ruled a suicide, and antidepressant became your loyal friend. There was no one else, and sometimes you feared there would always be no one else. 

Then—by some miracle—there was Carlos.

He was handsome. He was shy. He was sweet. He was kind.

He was rich.

You played hard to get, but so did he. You played the long haul, but so did he. You were a fantastic liar, but he was an ever better believer.

And it all clicked.

Just the way it was supposed to.

-

You’ve been accustomed to a certain lifestyle for years now, but somehow you’re always surprised about the sudden boost you’ve switched to ever since you’ve met him.

Chanel heels turned into red bottoms. Last season dresses turned into those that were not yet  released. You loved everything about it.

“You look so beautiful, cariño,” he groans against your lips, desperate for more. His large hands play with the silky fabric, fighting to slide it up against your hips. You shudder. “I mean…come on.”

“Hey, hey—that’s sweet and all—” You push yourself closer to his toned body, immediately feeling his erection. You nearly whimper.  “But why don’t you fuck me instead?” A kiss. “You missed me, no?”

And instead—he whimpers. “How dare you even ask?” 

With that, he picks you up with ease, pinning you against the wall. You’re dizzy, because unbeknownst to him, he’s casted a spell on you. Never did you think you could fall in love, much less, have someone reciprocate. 

Tender fingers make their way to your clit as you lunge forward, biting down onto his shoulder. It should amaze you how he holds you up with one arm, but you’re not. If anything, you leak more and more by every passing second. 

His dirty pants make you fold as you clench around him. The way they curl, the way they pulse, all of it was your kryptonite. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” you squeal, keeping your eyes trapped shut, feeling the familiar knot forming. He grins, pecking your sweaty forehead, digits speeding up. Berry lips form an O as you moan louder with every push.”I-I’m c-c-close—oh God.”

“Shh. It’s okay, let go for me, yeah? I’m right here with you.” 

Gritting your teeth harder, you moan like some pornstar as you finish all around him. Almost like some rule, he desperately sucks his fingers clean. The Spaniard hums like he’s living his biggest dream of all before opening his round eyes. 

“So sweet.”

You blush. “Yours tastes like shit.”

He laughs. “And yet you beg for me to finish all over your face, isn’t that so?”

Nearly choking at his bluntness, you fight back a smile as you play with his floppy locks. They’ve grown so much from the last time you saw him, so this was certainly eye candy to you. He sighs, relaxing as you continue to twirl thick strands around your fingers.

Soft legs still drape over his waist, hands still lay around your waist, and even breathing connects you both. Carlos feels like he’s nearly dozing off, but his hand remains firm, preferring to take a bullet than to let you fall. 

You like to think that you like his lashes the best. But then there’s his eyes. And his nose. And his heart. And his lips. And his hands. And his sculpture body. And his jokes. And his laugh. And his freckles. So you never could choose, not truly.

Inching closer to his ear, you smirk slowly. “Wanna fuck my mouth?”

His eyes snap open, jaw clenching. “You’re such a tease.”

A shrug. “Want to or not?” You bite your lip, legs letting go of his hips as you slide down. “Because this offer ends in five…” He raises a skeptical brow. “Four…” You motion him closer to which he steadily follows. “Three…” He laughs. “Two, one!”

Sprinting up the stairs in a flash, you giggle as he chases after you. The sound of his steps make your heart beat faster as you jump onto your shared bed. Rushing past the corner, he cocks his head to the side as he clicks his tongue. Stepping into the room carefully, he swung the door closed before locking it. You frown.

“Reassures me that no one will walk in.”

“No one will walk in,” you whisper as your stomach drops. “There’s no need t-to—”

“No, yeah, you’re right,” he agrees, taking in your breathless state. “But I prefer it this way. Just you.” A closer stride. “And me.”

Palms are sweaty. Blood slithers down your throat and thighs. And yet your freeze. You feel hot and cold, all at once. You don’t like the feeling, any of it, but you try to ignore the inner monologue. 

“You look stunning,” he states, finally reaching you. “You always do.”

Your speeding heart lessens. “T-thank you.” 

A beat. “You’re not nervous—are you?”

Hastily, you shake your head. “N-no! Of course not!”

Thick brows knit together. “Because you normally aren’t.” His smile fades. “W-we don’t have to do anything tonight if you don’t want to, you know that right?”

Physically, you’re cringing. Mentally, you’re spiraling. The act itself makes the Spaniard withdraw, taking a steady step back and shaking his head. Panic rises fast as you crawl closer to him, reaching the end of the bed. 

“I just have a lot on my mind, but I want this.” A beat. “I want you.”

It’s as if you’re a blank sheet of paper, blinking up at Carlos with such innocence. So much so, it makes his heart stop. He looks for reassurance, which you give him, and he looks for it again, which you give again without hesitance. 

“Come on, Carlitos…” you slowly whisper, batting your eyes. “I know you’ve missed my mouth.”

If you weren’t so breathtaking, if you weren’t so seductive, if you weren’t so goddamn tempting then surely turning you down wouldn’t be an issue. By alas, you’re here—and even better—you’re all his. 

“Eres un sueño.” It seems like an eternity passes by before he finally steps close to you once again, getting rid of whatever distance you ever had. Like it was never meant to be there to begin with. “Can I kiss you first?”

It’s sweet that he feels the need to build up to fucking you sore, but sweet nonetheless. That’s one thing you love about him—and there’s a lot to choose from—his respect towards you. Smiling warmly, you extend your arm, inviting him like an angel before he smashes his lips against you like the devil.

The contrast. It’s just what you needed.

“God, I fucking love you.” 

“I—” His lips press harsher as he continues marking his territory. All of it was making your head spin like a rollercoaster. “I love you too,” you manage to spit out as he makes his way down. You blush. “I-I-I sort of wanted to…”

He blinks. “Sort of what?”

“Well, you know…” You point towards his hardened cock. 

And he actually snickers. “Cat got your tongue today or what, bella?”

A groan. “You’re so fucking annoying—”

“No, no, no,” he cuts in with a whistle. “By all means, go ahead.”

Desperate hands crazily reach out towards his belt in a nanosecond. You should be ashamed how hopeless you are, but you don’t find enough strength to care. Not when he was looking down at you with hungry eyes. 

“Tan linda,” he whispered underneath his breath. As if you weren’t meant to hear him. As if he can’t quite believe it’s you he gets to keep. This must all be a dream to him, he thinks. 

Just as you’re about to pull his jeans down, large hands get ahold of your wrists. Confused, you look up at him, head tilted and messy hair falling over your shoulder. He grins wickedly. 

“Just one more kiss.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Are you kidding me—”

But his soft lips move with such urgency that you don’t even have time to bitch and moan. Not that you’re trying. You can feel it; the hunger, the lust. The way you run your fingers through his hair, or how he squeezes your ass. In a matter of seconds, the room grows steamy, hot breaths expanding with every peck. It’s as if Carlos was too afraid of being ripped away from you even for a second, scared your lips might change and he wouldn’t know a thing about it.

Not knowing you might be his biggest fear.

It happens without a warning, his grip. You feel it slide slowly up your ribs—you remember thinking how much you like it, how much it tickles. Then it reaches your chest, to which his eager hands squeeze your tits, pathetically moaning into your mouth. You can’t help but giggle, but still not separating. And then…

It reaches your neck.

As soon as he squeezes, your eyesight begins to blur, but he doesn’t notice. Your chest begins to rise and fall at an alarming rate, but he doesn’t notice. And you’re terrified.

But he doesn’t notice.

“Carlos,” you whimper, but he takes it as a good sign, mouth moving with ease. “Carlos, honey…”

“Yeah, baby?” His voice is deep. “You like that?” Large palm squeezes harder. “Bet you do.”

“Okay, stop!” you scream, arms flying like some madman. “Let go of me!”

Panicked, he releases you in a hurry, jumping off of your trembling body. Color drains his face as realization hits him, but it's too late. You’re sobbing hard, shoulders bouncing up and down. The way you crawl back with fear makes his heart break as he shakes his head, running a hand against his jaw.

“Fuck.” More cries. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—I am so sorry, baby…” Desperate eyes stare back at you as you hide your face against your shaky hands. “I’m so fucking stupid. I should have known, I should have known.” Inching closer proves to be a mistake when you leap off the bed, throwing a mountain of pillows like daggers. 

“Stop it,” you demand. “Stay. Right. There.”

He flinches. “Are you afraid of me?”

The laugh that erupts from your throat is unlike the others he’s heard. It’s almost maniacal. It makes his skin grow with goosebumps. “Is that even a question?” Dark mascara runs down your cheeks as you breathe heavily. “You just tried to kill me.”

“No,” he pronounces. “No, you know that that’s not true. I-I-I thought you’d like it!” The glare you flicker is enough for him to wince, pinching the tip of his nose. “I should have known better, okay? Please, just…calm down.”

All your sniffles come to an end as you freeze. “Are you calling me crazy?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Oh my God.” Pushing your hair back, you release a chuckle. “You actually think I’m crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy, stop putting words into my mouth.”

A scoff. “Okay, wow.” 

He doesn’t have a clue as to how he continues to dig himself into a hole—and yet—here he is. Digging his own grave. Exhaling hard, he licks his lips before looking straight into your glossy eyes. “I love you,” he starts, but you remain as still as a statue. “And I want us to work through this. I want to be able to talk to you, yeah?” A beat. “I’m sorry about…what I did, I should have never done it knowing you’re…traumatized.” 

He’s almost scared to see your reaction, but it never comes. Instead, you blink hastily, as if you’re mortified. 

You should’ve known. You should have figured that karma would catch up to you sooner or later.

I mean, all sins must be paid for, right?

As soon as he starts closing the gap, you’re thumping heart picks right back up. “I just want to talk—”

“No.”

Despite his hurt, he continues his march towards you. “I just want to be near you, please—”

“I said no!” 

It happens almost in the blink of an eye, the sound of glass shattering. He sort of thinks he must’ve imagined it, your hand flying to punch the mirror right besides you, but the gentle blood that oozes out of your hand makes his heart stop. Suddenly, all the scars you have make sense. So much makes sense. 

“Just…stay there, Carlos,” you say, voice trembling, small hand holding out a piece of sharp glass towards him like some wannabe knife. You bite your bottom lip. “Just—there.”

“Cariño…”

“Stop it with that,” you plead, teardrops slipping. “Stop calling me that.”

Somewhere in the shard, he catches his reflection. Half-scared, half-brokenhearted. He doesn’t even know how you two got to this point. 

He gulps. “Okay. I’ll stop, I’ll stop, but please put that down.” You shake your head fast, splotchy cheeks flushing furthermore. Carlos sighs desperately. “Come on—you’re bleeding.”

“I’m used to it by now.”

Tension resurfaces once again between you both as you stare at each other, awaiting for the next challenge. Playing the silent game for a second, curious to see who breaks next. 

“Why did you lock the door?”

He almost laughs. “We always shut the door—”

You raise the blade up higher as you begin to lose patience. Deep down, you know you’re not capable of harming him, but how could you ever let your guard down once again when he tried to strangle you to death?

History almost repeats itself, and you’ll be damned if you ever let it happen.

“You said it, we shut it but we never lock it.” A soft cry. “What were you planning on doing to me, Carlos?”

It’s like a knife to the heart, you’re sudden distrust. The brunette finds himself struggling to breath as he blinks like a lost deer. 

“You know that I would never hurt you. Not on purpose, at least…”

You let out a wet snarl, shaking your head. “I don’t believe you.”

A flinch. “All of this was a mistake and I adore you.”

“You don’t, though,” you protest, the shaky vision intensifying. “If not you wouldn’t have tried to mur—”

“For the last time, I’m not your step-father!” It’s as if he’s finally reached his breaking point, just now. His body is tired. His mind is tired. Everything is just tired of trying. Carlos shrugs lamely. “If you don’t want to believe me…so be it.”

The pain that rains out of him should be enough for you to know that he’s telling the complete truth. He’s a good guy, with pure intentions. He’s not here to get even with you on your mothers behalf. None of what you’re imagining is true.

But you just can’t seem to understand. 

“I don’t believe your lies, alright?” you spit out with deep breaths. You drop the blade, finally. “Open the door.”

With his head hung low, he complies, feet dragging with every step. And finally, with a hand on the knob, he turns to give you one last glance. He can tell you’re holding in your breath and he doesn’t know why it bothers him so much. Why it make him feel so much like a monster…

Click. The wooden door swings open as he pushes it gently.

“Now leave.”

A wave of nausea strikes with your words. “Amor—“

“Stop. Don’t even look at me.” Tension. “I don’t want to see you ever again—not even by accident.”

And that was the last stab that ended it all.

-

Every now and then, he wonders how you are. Hopefully better. 

He hears your name mentioned once in a blue moon, but instinctively blocks it out, too disturbed at the thought of what occurred between you two. 

What did occur between you two?

He could take a guess and say that you’re internally fucked. Straight and simple. 

But it’s still annoying. The way he wishes to forget you with every passing birthday wish. 

At first, it was because he missed you. He just wanted to forget you because he missed you—yes.

Later, it was because the memory of the cramped room suffocated him. The sound of glass breaking was stronger than the sound of his car crashing. And somehow the latter seemed better. 

He just wanted to forget that day—yes. 

Staring off into space has been his thing for a long time, often getting called out on it. Now, he finds himself with his eyes closed, too scared that someone might notice his feelings and feel the need to ask if he’s okay. 

He hasn't been. Not since you. 

“Grape or watermelon?”

Popping and eye open, he catches a glance of Lewis before rolling over. “I’m good.”

It’s tough, this silent war between both his friends. The break up simply made this…tough. Especially when no one really knows what happened. 

Setting the electrolytes down, the Brit claims a spot next to the brunette. Groaning at the unwanted company, Carlos switches to sit upright. Brown eyes glare strongly before Lewis laughs it off. 

“How you doin’, bud?”

Great, no yeah, just severely depressed thanks to your so-called friend. Would you mind asking her where she gets her antidepressants from for me? I mean, I would, but last time we saw each other she, uh, I don’t know, tried to stab me? And you know what’s the most fucked up shit? It’s the fact that I still love her just the same. 

I just wanted to help. 

He forces a shy smile. “Fine.”

A pity grimace. “I can tell she misses you, you know?”

Carlos hates how excited the thought of you alone—dreamily sighing for his return—gets him to sit up straighter, suddenly interested. It’s foolish, really. 

“She would never admit it, but I can tell because I know—”

“Her?” The Spaniard lets out a mocking scoff. “Trust me, you don’t. Not entirely.”

That shuts Lewis right up as he sits there, staring blankly. A dark brow furrows. “Listen, I don’t know what happened between you two—not that I need to know—but she’s a good person. And so are you. So…don’t be afraid of reaching out.”

He flickers his brown eyes accusingly. “Why should I? Did she put you up to this?”

“She didn’t—“

But the fact is, the hesitation gives him away. Anger arises as the Spaniard rolls his eyes. “I knew it, God, I knew it!” A second. “I know her.”

The Brit drowns with nervousness as he waves his hands in despair. “She just wants you to apologize!”

A singular laugh. “Apologize for what?” He pauses, squinting at his friend. “She didn’t tell you why we broke up, did she?”

“No.”

“Then you don’t really know who’s fault it was, do you?”

Lewis looks down onto his lap. “No. Not really.”

“Great, then let me be the one to tell you that it was both of ours. I’m no saint but neither is she.”

An award silence lingers as the Spaniards voice echoes the room. Lewis nods. “Understood. I got it, okay?”

He sighs an irregular sigh. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t worry about it, man.” A sheepish grin. “It’s not my place to fix anything about your guys’ relationship, I get it.”

Carlos’ face switches to bright red as he nods his head once. “T-thanks.”

The Brit, ever happily, stands up firmly before patting his back. “I’m always here if you need to talk.”

“Gracias.” Lewis is just a few steps away when he clears his throat before he can even stop himself from asking. “How’s she doing?”

It came across almost softer than a mumble, and one might have missed it if not alert, but not Lewis. 

Spinning to face the almost manchild with round eyes, he smiles as bright as the sun, and that makes his stomach turn. Because he knows. He knows you’re doing—

“Really well.”

Fluffy hair falls down as he tilts his head, clicking his tongue. “That’s good.” Sure. He returns the same smile with a twitch. “That’s really good.”

Lewis has known you two for a long time now. He’s unwillingly memorized your ticks. How the right side of your face slightly twitches before every lie, or how the left side of his does the same before every lie. Much like right now. 

The Brit contemplates for a minute, then two, then opens his mouth in the most hesitant manner. 

“She’s moving to Germany.” Carlos freezes. “Only for a few months. Maybe a year, who knows. But…you should read her book.”

He unfreezes. “Her what?”

A faint smile. Eyes crinkled. “It’s a tough read, but I believe it was necessary. You know, to finally talk about it.”

-

He never quite believed you would open up this way, and yet here he was, in an unknown bookstore, spacing out. Your name jumps out like some shooting star, too difficult to ignore. 

Without a doubt, you’d get a lawsuit from your step-father. Of course—you were only dragging the last name of what seemed to be the world's richest man. 

For what it’s worth, Carlos is proud. This must mean you’re open to moving on. To get the necessary help you so desperately need. From start to finish, the pages are enticing. You go into gruesome depth, something you never seemed to have a problem in doing. From the mention of how her eyes remained open with no sign of life, only terror, to the fact that you got your many scars from punching the door, trying to get in on time. How he bribed his way against the laws. 

Everything seemed to be coming out.

So then why, as he sits in his driver's room, staring at your picture in the back of the book, does he feel like doesn’t believe it? 

Not even a generous half.

-

Angelica lived up to the first five letters of her name. 

She was there for you in the moments you needed her the most. She braided your hair for playdates, she tied your shoe laces even when you were too embarrassed to ask, and she worked her way up, making sure you had it all. 

Undeniably, she was one hell of a woman. Then again, she had more within her—pulled some trigger you never thought she’d pull.

You were going to lose it all, why couldn’t she foresee that? That conversation was going to rip your inheritance straight from your tight grip; the one that ensured your future vacations. How could she ever betray you? Her own daughter? 

You were acquisitive. You were possessive. You were partially responsible for her death.

But call it naiveness, you really thought it’d work.

No one will truly know the way your soul left your body when you heard you wouldn’t get a single dollar. Not even a fucking cent. You had to find some other way to stay secure.

But Carlos was out to get you, you just know he was. You don’t have a clue as to how he found out about the truth, about what happened inside that stupid mansion, but he knew it all. And you had to get out of there.

Only it led you back to square one. With no purpose. With no money. Fuck men and their actions, seriously, too all hell with them.

However, you were your mothers daughter at the end of the day.

You could be a writer. An even better one that she could've ever been. If you wanted to, you could do it. 

And that is exactly what you did.

You typed, and typed, and typed until your fingers would cramp up. The multi-billionaire was a leviathan and everyone would see that no matter what. 

You, on the other hand, were an innocent bystander. Too weak to intervene, to fight back. Too young. Yeah. That was what happened that night.

But you also had your own perspective. One your mom could never match.

While she married for the illusion of love, you would’ve married for money with no shame. Carlos just happened to be the luckiest of strikes because you got both. 

While she always was at the front of the room without having to try, you were always in the back with a bitter smile. Why did she get to have two dimples? All eyes would have surely been on you if you had at least one. 

And while she never cared about reaching the New York Times Best Seller list—you did. 

She would have jumped with joy just by selling ten copies, but not you. You always wanted more—craved more. Label it as ambition. 

More copies sold means more money. A trust fund means more money. Playing the victim against your step-father means even more money. So yeah…

You did care about that stupid list. 

Tilting your head back against your seat, you flinch at the taste of the pill, too familiar for your liking, but the wine helps. It always does nowadays. 

Buzz. 

Picking up with a level of indifference was all fake—you had been yearning this call for what seemed like your whole life.

“Hey.” His voice is almost raw. Like he could use a couple cough drops. “I-I-I read your book. It was incredible.”

And for the first time in a while, you smile. “Thank you, that means a lot, Carlos.”

You can hear the static against the line, indicating once again that you’re on opposite sides of the world and not together. You can almost bet that it will always stay that way. 

The Spaniard coughs awkwardly into your ear.

“Oh, and also, congrats on making it onto the New York Times Best Seller.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

[woso-dreamzzz]

Leaving VI

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: Your schedules don't match

You love Alexia.

You were only little when your father died. You didn't quite understand it.

Your father was a football fan, a big Barcelona supporter so all of his daughters got taken to games with him.

Alba was never that into sports, even just watching them.

Alexia was definitely sporty. You think she was what your father really wanted. She plays football and she adores it.

Your father was already sick by the time you were born. He was already struggling but he still took you to matches. It didn't click with you like it did with Alexia but he could still some athletic speck in you.

He took you to a tennis match instead. He'd never had much interest in tennis but he seemed to know what would appeal to you. You were tiny and Mama had been worried that you wouldn't be able to sit through a match.

But you did.

You sat through a whole match and fell in love then and there.

You were still little though and your father was still sick but he took you to as many lessons as he could.

He was a football fan but he could learn tennis for you.

He never could in the end, not when he died so suddenly.

But then Alexia took over. She didn't understand tennis and she still doesn't understand but she took you to every lesson and went to every match.

You just wish she understood the difference in your schedules.

She was getting ready for another round of Euro qualifiers even though Spain had already qualified. You were at Wimbledon, trading shots with Iga on the practice courts.

"Have you called your sister yet?" She asks, sitting down next to you as you guzzle down your water.

You roll your eyes. "In a minute."

"Do it now."

"What are you? One of my sisters?"

You're teasing her.

Iga is the world number one, by a lot of points. You sit just outside of the top ten. It's a little annoying, your own inconsistency. You can pull it out of the bag during big matches like Grand Slams but you suffer a bit in some of the less grand tournaments.

You're officially the youngest player this tour so you know you're getting babied by some of the other players, Iga especially.

You hadn't thought she had even known who you were until your coach told you she was the one who pushed him to take you on.

She thought you were on your way to being one of the greats.

She also thought you would make a great doubles partner one day.

It was different moving to Poland, away from your Mama and your sisters but Iga made it easy.

She was easy-going and you practically lived at her place so, yeah, you guess she took the more sisterly role in your life with Alexia and Alba at home in Spain.

"Go and call your sister," Iga laughs, spraying you with her bottle until you shriek and run off," And grab me a protein bar or something!"

You roll your eyes but head off, pulling out your phone to video call your sister.

It rings for barely a second.

"Hi Jenni," You say," Can you give Alexia back her phone? I need to talk to her."

"You don't want to talk to me, mini Putellas? I'm offended!"

"If I wanted to talk to you, I'd have called you!"

Jenni laughs before Alexia appears on screen, snatching the phone away from her ex.

"How are you?" Alexia asks, cramming her face onto the screen.

"I'm good!" You laugh," You look good too. Covered in sweat."

"You can talk," Alexia teases back," Have you just had a workout?"

"Practice pitch with Iga," You say," We've got matches coming up."

Alexia frowns. "What do you mean?"

"We've got matches in the next few days. It's Wimbledon, remember?"

Alexia shakes her head. "No. That was last year."

"It happens every year, Ale," You remind her," Me and Iga are competing and then it's a quick turnaround for the Olympics."

Alexia's frowning. "No, because I've got a match on the twelfth. You're flying out with Mama and Alba."

"The Wimbledon final is on the thirteenth. I need to stay."

"What?"

"Iga's out and I've got a real chance. I could really do it."

"But...What about my match?"

"What about mine?" You counter with a sigh," Ale, our schedules just don't match this time. I'm sorry."

"But..."

It's clear to the other girls in the room that Alexia's getting a bit distressed as her mouth opens and closes as she tries to formulate a response.

"But..."

"Listen, I've got to go. I'll talk to you later."

"Hey, wait-"

You put the phone down and Alexia just stares down at it, frozen as she looks at your profile picture.

"What's up with the long face?" Jenni pokes her in the cheek. "You're more frowny than usual."

"Nothing. I just...My sister can't come to the game."

"Well, duh, Alexia. She's got Wimbledon to win. She can't just fly out to us."

"I know but..." She blows out all her air. "Never mind. I'm just...I'm gonna go."

When you were little, Alexia tried to go to as many of your matches as she could manage. Sometimes she would come straight from her own games, still in full kit to catch your last ten minutes or so.

It was difficult but it worked.

You've gone professional now and branched out, travelling the world to take part in tournaments and games so you can work your way up and become the world number one.

She shouldn't be upset about you missing her match and her missing yours because that's just how sports work. So many went on at the same time that it was impossible to make every match but, still, a deep pit forms in Alexia's stomach as she thinks about missing your final.

Across the world, you prepare.

You practice on the courts with Iga and your coach. You eat well. You sleep well. You watch Alexia's match on the tv and wish you could be there but Alexia's no longer the only athlete in the family.

She had her career and you have yours.

Paolini is who you face in the final and she keeps you on your toes the entire time. She hits hard and fast and you go one set down immediately.

You pull it back though, managing to equalise the next set and then it's all to play for.

You take a few gasping breaths as you guzzle down your water, leaning back in your seat.

You look up at your box, where your family is watching.

Mama is there, of course, and so is Alba. Alba looks incredibly bored. You know she only comes to the tennis because of you and you're glad she's trying to be supportive but she truly looks like she's about to fall asleep in her seat.

Mama looks much more engaged. She'd told you once that she preferred the pace of tennis to football. There was less risk of injuries in tennis, no one around to slide tackle you or crash into you.

The most harm your opponent could do was smash a ball into your face and that rarely happened. Sure, you could slip and fall but it's not like footballers didn't do that too.

Out of the two sports her daughters played, Mama always found herself calmer at the tennis.

Mama waves at you and nudges Alba in the ribs so she can look up from her phone to wave too.

Your brows draw together in confusion.

There's an empty seat between them and you can't understand why.

So, you just kind of stare as you puzzle out who could be sitting there.

It's not until she comes back, with two beers and a hotdog that you realise who is filling that seat.

She looks exhausted. You can tell even through those stupid big sunglasses and the even stupider hat she's wearing.

She must have gone straight from her match to the airport to get here in time and crashed in Mama and Alba's room to keep it all a secret.

So, Alexia sits in her seat and you grab your racket.

You've got a set to win.