#it gets to a point where it is unavoidable

[chamisulgrape]

give me tough love 𖤐 [s.jy]

Jake's always liked pretty things, and you're the prettiest he's ever seen. Another thing about Jake? He always gets what he wants.

☆ pairing → jake x afab reader

☆ word count → 12.9k

☆ tags → omegaverse/abo dynamics, alpha x alpha, one-sided enemies to lovers (?), jock!jake, cheerleader!reader, jake is highkey a huge virgin & loser in this, jealousy and possessiveness, weed and smoking

☆ smut tags → pwp, unprotected p in v sex, lots of power play/switching dynamics, mild dubious consent, overstimulation, degradation & dirty talk, lots of spit and drool (they're nasty for each other), virginity kink/inexperienced kink, service top!jake, breeding kink, oral sex (f receiving), tl;dr just lots of nasty smut

☆ warnings → alpha x alpha dynamics if u r not into that! also as always, not proofread

☆ a/n  → monster of a fic is finally done! pls reblog or leave me asks/comments if u enjoyed hehe that would make me very happy :3

minors dni.

♪ give me tough love, leave me with nothing when i come down my kinda love, push me and choke me 'til i pass out

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

One thing to know about Jake: he’s possessive.

It’s not one of his best traits, but it’s something he can’t help. It’s in his blood—his DNA and chemistry. He doesn’t believe in what’s mine is yours or what’s yours is mine, to him it’s bullshit. He’s an alpha, at the very top of the food chain. So why should he share something that’s his? There’s no such thing as ours in Jake’s book, and he’d spill blood before he lets someone have something that’s his.

Maybe he has a problem, but he never admits it until you. Rather, it never became a problem until he met you. 

It’s unavoidable, you’re unavoidable. You, a cheerleader in his year; nice ass, long legs, pretty face. How could he have helped himself? 

Jake’s always liked pretty things, and you’re the prettiest he’s ever seen. 

Jake was doomed from the start.

“Dibs.”

Sunghoon turns to Jake in surprise, mouth parted and sweat sheening on his forehead, sparkling under the sun. “What?”

“I said dibs,” Jake repeats, looking across the field to where the cheerleaders are practicing with the rest of the team. He wipes his forehead with the bottom of his jersey and points with his free hand, “That one, I call dibs.”

“You can’t just call dibs on someone like they’re an obje—” Sunghoon squints, following his finger. “Dude, _____? No fucking way. She doesn’t even know who you are.”

Jake scoffs, tossing a football right into Sunghoon’s chest. “Yeah, not yet.”

Sunghoon winces, “You’re fucking weird. Have you heard what people say about her? She’s supposedly really bitchy. And she’s an alpha. It’s never going to work.” 

Sunghoon hisses the word alpha out like it’d keep Jake from doing something rash. Jake sees it as a challenge.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

“Yeah, well you’re too blind to be staring at anything other than her ass.” Sunghoon tosses the ball back to him before calling in the rest of their team. “So, no. You can’t call dibs on her.”

Another thing about Jake: he gets what he wants. Not because he needs it and never because he deserves it, but simply because he wants it—and god, does Jake want. He craves you more than anything he’s ever wanted, desperately now just because Sunghoon says he can’t have you.

So Jake doesn’t listen to Sunghoon, his mind already far past made up. He decides at that very moment: you are going to be his. 

Jake has a small problem: you hate him.

Saying you hate him is an understatement. 

He doesn’t know what it is, it could be the fact that he’s been shamelessly hitting on you for weeks, but he isn’t too sure.

Okay, he isn’t exactly hitting on you, but he thinks he’s made it very clear what his intentions are. Very.

“Jake Sim.” You spit, glossy lips curling into a frown, your signature pretty pout on display. 

“Were you waiting for me?” Jake smirks, kicking the locker room door closed behind him as he walks out and swinging his duffle bag over his shoulder.

“Why are you telling people that we’re fucking?” You cut to the chase, crossing your arms and glowering at him. Jake thinks you’re cute, and god, this only makes him want you more.

You’re a few feet too far from him, which Jake fixes easily. He closes the distance between you both, leaning against the side of the wall and grinning at you with a smug smirk, one that he knows gets under your skin.

“What can I say? Futuristic thinking. Manifesting.”

Jake watches as you furrow your brows, your pretty pout deepening further as Jake places a hand on your waist. “Well, you need to stop.”

“Stop what? No use when they’re all thinking it already.”

You huff, frustrated. “Stop going around and telling people we’re fucking when we’re not!”

“Why not?” Jake questions, just to push your buttons further.

“Because we’re not!” You snap. “Jake. I’m an alpha, you’re an alpha. What’s not clicking?”

Jake hums, tilting his head. “Do you have a mate?”

“No—”

“Aw, really?”

“No!”

Jake squeezes your waist once, twice, before sliding his hand further, resting his palm against your lower back. Leaning down a centimeter, he pulls you closer, until your hips are pulled flush against each other. “Then what’s the problem?”

When you sigh, he can practically taste the mint gum off of your breath. you maintain eye contact, squinting and leaning in further to prove your point. You press a finger against Jake’s chest, “You. God, you’re such a fucking sleaze.”

Jake places a hand over his chest, right where your finger just was, feigning hurt. “Sleaze? Angel, that’s so mean.”

“I’m not an angel, Jake. I’m an alpha. Leave me the fuck alone, Jake.” You say, before turning on your heels and stalking off. Jake watches you go like a predator stalking his prey, his eyes trained on your ass.

Jake feels a hand on his shoulder, and he turns to meet Sunghoon’s questioning gaze.

Jake shoots him a shit eating grin, shrugging his shoulders. “She wants me so bad.”

Sunghoon shakes his head in disbelief before squeezing Jake’s shoulder pityingly, hand falling to his side after. “Of course she does. Come on, lover boy.”

Jake prides himself in being patient—patience is a virtue, or something like that—so he’s not surprised when things change the night of the party.

Sunghoon’s omega is hosting a party for her cheer team (something about celebrating a win they had at a competition, but Jake is really only there for free alcohol) and if Sunghoon is invited, Jake is too. Best friend perks. 

“You guys are late.” She says, greeting Sunghoon with a kiss when he opens the door for them.

“Sorry baby, blame Jake.” Sunghoon slings an arm around his omega’s shoulders, her arm coming around to hold his waist like it belongs there. 

“You guys are sickening. Absolutely fucking sickening.” Jake gags exaggeratedly, pushing past the pair and making a beeline for wherever the alcohol is.

He makes it past the crowd of sweaty bodies, pushing his way through to find the kitchen. Jake finds it easily, knowing Sunghoon’s omega’s place like the back of his hand. The kitchen is packed with people pouring cups of something from a bowl, and others hanging around the clutter of bottles on the table. 

Jake follows suit, filling his own red cup with some kind of red punch, when someone shoves him to the side, hard enough to have punch spilling from his cup and onto the countertop. He’s about to turn and say something when he sees a familiar varsity jacket.

“Get out of my way.”

Jake scoffs, worrying the inside of his cheek as he watches you fill up his cup. “Seems like you’re the one following me around. Careful, people might get the wrong idea and think that you’re the one who wants to fuck me instead.”

You pause, huffing before tossing the ladle back into the bowl. You turn to him fully, taking Jake’s cup right out of his hand and pouring the remnants into your own. “Get your head out of your ass, Jake. I’m just filling up my cup, you just happened to be here.”

“Yeah, filling up your cup with mine. It’s like you want me, or something.” Jake smirks when you roll your eyes.

You glower at him. “Shut up.”

“You’re so cute when you try to play hard to get.” 

You down your drink in one go, shoving it against Jake’s chest after crushing your cup in your hand. “Eat my ass.”

“Gladly!” Jake yells over the music as you leave the kitchen. He laughs, amusement filling his chest. Jake licks his lips, pushing himself off of the counter to follow you out of the kitchen.

Jake bumps into Sunghoon and his omega as he’s about to leave. He grimaces at the sight of Sunghoon already sporting a few small hickeys on his shoulders. “You guys are sickening, did I tell you that? Because you guys are disgusting.”

She flips him off. “Shut up, ass eater.”

“You heard that? So you agree that it was an invitation, right?” Jake’s lips curl downwards at the sight of Sunghoon hanging off of her, arms wrapped around his omega’s neck. Gross. “I’d be mad about the fact that you guys keep forgetting that some people are single here, but I don’t think I’ll be single for much longer.

“Leave my cheerleaders alone, Jake.” She retorts, rolling her eyes.

Jake waggles his eyebrows playfully. “Not my fault that your cheerleader is hot.”

Sunghoon interrupts them then, “nice talk, but we have places to be. Bye, don’t come find us,” before shuffling aside and leading them both into the kitchen.

Jake scoffs to himself, mumbling something about how gross they are before remembering why he left the kitchen in the first place. He searches the crowd for his target, squinting when the flashing LED lights burn his eyes. His eyes roam the room, scanning over people dancing, hanging around in corners, making out on couches, before he finally sees you. 

The sight makes his blood boil. There you are, sitting pretty in some douchebag’s lap. Jake laughs under his breath, tonguing at his cheek, seeing red at the way the guy seems so enamored with you. He probably thinks he’s the shit with a pretty cheerleader in his lap. Jake wonders if the guy is an alpha too.

Jake is about to say fuck it and go get you back himself, when someone elbows his side. 

“Wanna smoke?” He turns to find Riki, who’s dangling a bag of pre-rolled joints in his hand. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

A few minutes later, Jake and Riki are seated on a couch just a few feet away from where you are.

Riki takes a drag of the joint before passing it to him. Jake takes a hit, eyes still trained on where you’re fucking laughing against the guy’s chest. He clenches his jaw, running his tongue along his teeth before exhaling. Jake can be funny, too.

“You good?” Riki asks, raising his brows at him. Jake is losing control of his scent now that he has alcohol and weed in his system, and he can’t bring himself to reel it in when you’re still in the guy’s lap.

Jake rubs a hand across his face, then takes another hit before shoving the joint into Riki’s hands. When the guy places his hand on your waist, just shy of creeping into the waistband of your pretty little skirt, he sees red. “Yeah, just—be right back.”

Jake can’t stop himself from walking right up to you. You notice him right away, Jake’s scent enveloping you as soon as he’s a few steps away. He towers over you, smiling sweetly. “Baby, who’s this?”

The guy looks between the two of them, quickly shuffling to the side and tossing you off his lap. “Shit—Sorry man, I didn’t know she was claimed.”

Jake smirks, filled to the brim with satisfaction and pride. Jake swears the guy’s tail would be between his legs if he had one. He looks down at you, who’s glaring at him with a curled lip, and he remembers why he’s mad in the first place. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” You say, then standing to be toe to toe with Jake. They’re a ticking time bomb by now, both so close to exploding, and Jake feels as though the time is up. Jake is done with the games, he just wants.

“You. You’re my fucking problem.” Jake growls, taking a hold of your hand and leading them away from the living room.

To his surprise, you don't resist like he thought you would. “Jake—”

You let him lead them into an unoccupied bathroom, only narrowing your eyes at the way Jake locks it behind them. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Jake crowds him against the door. Your head knocks back at the sudden movement, eliciting a hiss out of you. The music is muffled from inside the bathroom, and he’s sure that you can hear the way he’s breathing heavily. He lets out a ragged breath before taking your jaw between his fingers with more force than necessary.

He can feel your pulse thumping against his fingers, matching the bass reverberating through the bathroom. He tilts your face up, his grip bruising. “What are you playing at?”

It doesn’t surprise Jake that you are allowing this, even though he’s an alpha. Jake knows that you also enjoy the game they play, he knows that you like the push and pull. Something tells Jake that you like being treated like this, if the sudden spike of arousal of your scent is anything to go by. 

“What do you mean?”

You have the nerve to look innocent with your cheeks squished between Jake’s thumb and forefingers, like Jake can’t smell you at all, like your scent isn’t flooding the bathroom along with Jake’s. 

“I mean,” Jake stops himself when your scent gets too heavy, making his head spin and his dick throb. He inhales sharply, bringing your face closer. “What do you think you’re doing? Sitting on that guy’s fucking lap?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say, grinning, trailing off into a wince when Jake squeezes just a tad tighter. 

“You know what I’m talking about. You wanted me to see? Is that it?” He releases your jaw, only to grip your hips instead. “You knew I’d be there, you’re doing this on purpose.”

The arousal in your scent when Jake’s fingers dig into his flesh only gets heedier, and Jake’s mouth waters when he’s hit with the smell of grass and mint and tea and the air charged with your pheromones and—holy fucking god, Jake wants to devour you whole, every last bit of you.

You only swallow, eyes flicking down to Jake’s lips. Your breath is sweet, still smelling like the mint gum you chew every day, when you speak. “You’re fucking insufferable.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Is all Jake says before he closes the distance between you two.

It’s at this moment that Jake’s brain short circuits, reminding him that he’s never done this before—this being anything remotely sexual, aside from short makeouts with randoms he’s never cared for. You can most likely tell by the way their teeth clash together messily, but when Jake bites at your lip, you only whimpers in response.

It makes Jake want to laugh. You, who used to tell Jake that because they’re both alphas they can’t be involved, is now speechless, at Jake’s mercy.

For what he lacks, he makes up with enthusiasm. You gasp against his lips and he takes his chance to slip his tongue inside, licking over teeth and gums before pushing against your tongue. You don't let up easily, still fighting for dominance. Jake trails his palms down to your ass, squeezing the soft flesh there, and you break the kiss to gasp for air. 

Jake nips at your jaw, and his chest rumbles with satisfaction when your head lolls to the side, practically submitting for him like he wanted. He trails kisses down from your lips to your neck, tongue coming out to lick at your throat and leave marks against the skin there. When he reaches your scent gland, you gasp, hips bucking against Jake’s when Jake grazes his teeth over it, licking tenderly. 

“You’re so—fucking annoying,” you breathe out, words getting cut off when Jake bites down at your throat. He sucks a spot right above your scent gland, biting with the intent to hurt. Jake relishes in the way you whine, and it only spurs him on further.

By the time he leans back, your neck is already sporting fresh bruises and adorning marks that Jake can’t believe he left himself—that he can’t believe you let him leave. The mere sight fills him to the brim with pride.

“What the fuck are you looking at?”

“For someone who was just panting like a dog, you have a lot to say.” Jake bites back, using the hand he has on your ass to pull your hips closer against you. 

You have the audacity to glare at him with glazed eyes and spit-slick lips, and you look so wrecked that Jake wants to retort more, to push your buttons further, but he knows that this is already enough—as an alpha, you’ve already allowed him to do so much. You’ve already given him more than enough. 

“You’re an asshole.” You pout.

Jake just scoffs, shutting you up with another kiss. He licks along your lips, biting down when you don't willingly submit to the tongue prodding at your mouth. Your chest rumbles with a growl at the feeling, and Jake grins against your lips at the metallic taste of him breaking skin. He sucks your lip apologetically, sucking the flesh into his mouth to soothe it.

He gasps against your lips when he feels your hand come down in between them. Your hands trail lower before meeting his bulge, and Jake realizes that he’s embarrassingly hard. You hum, and Jake knows that your alpha is satisfied. You squeeze him over his pants once, before dropping to your knees.

Jake’s brain lags. “Wait—”

You look up at him through your wet lashes, and the sight is already enough to have him nearly close to coming in his pants. “‘Wait’? You brought me in here, and now you’re telling me to wait?”

“No, I—”

“What? You’re acting like you’ve never gotten head before.” He sees the moment it dawns on you, who scoffs. “No fucking way.” Jake swallows, words lost and his mind clouded and fuzzy. You laugh, throwing your head back. “You’re not a virgin, are you?”

He bites his lip, not knowing what to say back for once. “That’s—”

Your lips quirk up at the corners. “You’re all talk and no fucking bite.” You unzip Jake’s jeans in a flash. “Who would’ve thought, Jake Sim is a virgin.”

Jake opens his mouth to rebuttal, his alpha and ego taking hits at your words, but once you tug his pants down low enough to see Jake’s cock straining against his boxers, he can’t find it in himself to say a word. 

“God, you’re a fucking loser.” You shake your head, and Jake can tell you’re enjoying the role reversal, finally having the upperhand over him.

He sees the prideful look on your face when your words draw a faint whimper out of him, and he feels momentarily embarrassed, cheeks hot with mortification. He’s supposed to be an alpha, but here he is, putty in the hands of another alpha. Jake hates the fact that he likes it.

“You were going around telling people we’re fucking when you haven’t even fucked anyone.” You grin, palming at Jake’s bulge. “Such a disappointment of an alpha, hm?”

Jake groans lowly, and shame fills his chest as he bucks against your hips, seeking your touch out. “Shut up.”

You let out a laugh, squeezing the head of his cock. “You’re so wet already, practically soaking, just like an omega.”

Jake huffs. He reaches out to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling another hiss out of you. “You gonna suck me off or what? You’re the one who’s all talk and no bite.”

“Am I?” You tilt your head. “You think you’ll even last a few seconds?” 

Jake opens his mouth to retort, to say anything in rebuttal, but he’s silenced at the sight of you getting up. You pull him close with a finger tucked into the waistband of his boxers, leaning in to bite at his ear. You tug them against the door, Jake stopping himself from hitting into it face-first with a palm against the wood. 

He gets no warning when you slip a hand into his boxers, gripping him loosely and tugging his cock a few times. The slide is dry, making Jake hiss out a curse as you squeeze him at the head again. He sighs in relief when you pull his cock out, the cold air enveloping him. 

“Such a shame, you have a dick like this and you don’t even know how to use it,” you stroke him slowly, almost as if you’re bored. “Pathetic, really.”

“Get on with it already.”

Jake chokes on a whine when you suddenly grip him tightly. “Don’t talk to me like that. You were telling everyone that we’re fucking, so if you wanna get your dick wet then shut the fuck up.”

He pants, nodding his head. You grin, picking up the pace again. “You’re pathetic.” You kiss Jake’s cheek, thumb applying pressure to the head of his cock, digging into the slit.

Jake nods again, whimpering out a please. “You’re so pretty like this, Jakey. When you’re not being a fucking bitch.” Your lips are warm against his ear. “But maybe if you last long enough, I’ll even let you fuck me.”

It’s embarrassing, really. The way your words make his stomach churn with arousal and his hips stutter, causing him to fuck into your fist. It’s even more embarrassing that you calling him a bitch and the image of him even being able to get close to your ass has him coming within seconds. His cum coats your hand as he spills into your fist.

Mortification fills him to the brim, his face and cheeks getting warm. The shame is hot, and he burns when you laugh at him.

“Seriously? I barely even touched you, how are you going to ever fuck me like this? I don’t fuck people that can’t even last a fucking minute.” You release the hold you have on Jake’s cock, pushing Jake off of you. “And I don’t fuck virgins.”

Jake closes his eyes, inhaling shakily as he falls back a step. Hot tears run down his cheek, and he can’t bring himself to open them to meet your gaze. “I—I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? And now you’re crying. Jake,” he opens his eyes at this, looking at you through blurry vision. “God, you’re a mess.”

You step around him and close the lid of the toilet down, the slam resounding throughout the bathroom. You settle on the seat, squirming until you’re comfortable. Jake doesn’t know what to do anymore, too embarrassed to even speak. His breath catches in his throat when you tugs your skirt down mid-thigh, rubbing yourself over your panties. 

You beckon him over with a hand. “Jake, come here.”

Jake inhales shakily, trudging over slowly until his shoes knock into your sneakers. You tut at him. “Now sit.” Jake drops to his knees immediately, and you hum in satisfaction. “Good boy, now watch me.”

You spread your legs, and Jake chokes, mouth suddenly too dry. He can’t seem to look away from your face, feeling mesmerized at the way your lids are hooded with arousal, your gaze burning. You tilt your head, smiling at him innocently. 

“Don’t look at me, I told you to watch, didn’t I?”

Jake nods obediently, and you grin. He watches as you rub yourself over the fabric of your soaked panties. Jake gapes, mouth dropping open at the wet patch at the front.

“What? You’ve never seen panties before? Sorry—forgot, you’re a virgin,” you jut your chin, beckoning him even closer. “C’mere, help me take this off.”

He obeys, reaching out to place his fingers over the fabric. With shaky hands, he helps you tug your skirt and panties off. He pulls your sneakers off one by one, placing them next to his knees. He places your clothes on the counter next to him, then places his hands on your hips, when you slap him away. 

“I didn’t say you could touch, did I?” Jake shakes his head, mumbling out a weak no. “Good. You’re going to be a good boy for me, right?”

Jake nods at this, folding his hands on his lap. You lean your back against the toilet, cum coated hand coming down to caress your now bare cunt. You spread your legs further, and Jake almost comes a second time when he realizes that you’re touching yourself with his cum.

“Jakey, come closer,” you gasp, biting your lip as you rub yourself slowly. “Feels so good—you wanna touch, don’t you?”

Jake nods, entranced, too distracted watching in awe as your hole, wet and slick, clenches around nothing.  You bring your sticky, shiny fingers in front of Jake’s face, holding them in front of Jake’s mouth. “Suck.”

He does as told, taking your fingers into his mouth and sucking eagerly. The taste is unlike anything he’s ever tasted, way better than his own come, and he finds himself wanting more.

Jake moans around your digits, licking in between your fingers. He barely notices when you start fingering yourself with your unoccupied hand, faster now to the sight of your fingers deep in Jake’s mouth. 

“You’re so good, Jake. You listen to well, just like a fucking dog.” You trail off with a whine, and Jake looks down to see you adding a second finger inside of you.

He’s entranced at the wet sounds of you fingering yourself, the noises echoing off the walls. “Too bad you can’t fuck me, would feel so good to have you inside of me.”

Jake’s gaze is focused on your pussy, and he can’t find it in himself to look away. “Maybe I should go back outside, find that guy and use him instead, hm? He’d probably know how to use it better than you can.”

“No!” Jake objects, coming out muffled around your fingers. He pulls off with a lewd pop, “I can—I can show you. I can be good for you.” You hum, eyes closing and voice breaking off into a moan. “Yeah?”

He nods, “I can be good for you, please. Let me be good for you.”  He hears your breath pick up, the squelching sounds getting louder as you move your hand quicker. “God—Jake, I’m close, so close.”

Jake’s mouth waters, and he can’t stop himself from getting up onto his knees to press their lips together. You gasp in surprise, granting Jake entry into your mouth. He breaks off the kiss to pant against your ear. 

In the heat of the moment, Jake places his hand on top of yours, his palm against the back of your hand and moving in time with yours. 

You shake, gasping, and Jake feels it when you cum, your body convulsing and shaking against him. “Fuck—shit, Jake!”

When you come down from your high, you pull Jake into another kiss. Your lips move languidly against each other, spit making the slide wet and slippery. Jake takes it all, swallowing down the small mewls and whimpers you let out.

When they pull away, Jake can feel himself dripping with more precome at the sight of a line of spit hanging from between their lips. You bring your hand up to your mouth, sucking your fingers clean and Jake swears he could’ve come again right then and there.

You pull out your fingers with a lewd sound before getting up from the toilet. You put your skirt back on, fixing your appearance in the mirror. He watches as you grab your discarded panties, shoving them into Jake’s back pocket.

You lean in, pressing your lips to Jake’s softly. “Keep them,” You turn to leave, hand on the doorknob before looking back over your shoulder. “And put your fucking dick back in your pants.” Jake looks down, cheeks aflame when he realizes that his dick is still out in the open. When he looks up, you are nowhere in sight.

He stands there in shock, groaning. They’re back to square one. 

If he goes to lock the door and rubs another quick one out while holding your panties against his nose, it’s nobody’s business but his.

When you corner him outside of the locker room two weeks later, Jake feels a little bit surprised. 

Jake flinches in surprise, “_____.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “_____?”

“Is that not your name?” Jake asks, just to be an asshole. 

He smiles when you scoff. “My name? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What do you mean?” Jake says, furrowing his brows in confusion. 

“What do you mean, what do I mean? You know what I mean, don’t play dumb,” you spit, crossing your arms. Jake can’t help the way his eyes drop to your chest. “Cheerleaders are your type now, huh? You think you can just go around making fuck me eyes at all the cheerleaders now?”

Jake cocks his head in confusion, before it dawns on him. “You’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.” You argue back. 

“You’re jealous I haven’t been giving you any attention, is that it?” He tongues his cheek. “Never pegged you as the jealous type, angel.”

You purse your lips at the nickname. “I’m not jealous. You’re just being a fucking asshole and you know it.”

Jake raises a brow, stepping closer into your space, right until your toes touch. He leans down, towering over you. “Me? An asshole? Angel, I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“You!” You inhale, looking around to see if anyone was there to witness your outburst before lowering your voice. “You know what I’m talking about. Why the fuck are you hanging around them?”

“Hanging around who?” Jake pushes, a grin spreading across his face when he sees your cheeks get pink. 

He sees you look past him, hiding in Jake’s chest when a few students walk by. “Fuck—come here.”

Jake lets you grab his hand and drag him away from the locker room, following behind you with a whipped, dopey smile on his face. They pass by Sunghoon, who’s on his way back to the locker room.

Sunghoon points at them with a shocked look, “What’s—”

“Hi Sunghoon—” you tug on his hand, making him almost trip over his own feet. “—bye Sunghoon!”

He gets dragged all the way to the parking lot in front of the field, not stopping until he’s in front of a black car. You turn on your heels, dropping Jake’s hand. “Get in the car.”

You scoff when he reaches for the passenger door’s handle. “No, you fucking idiot. In the back.” 

Jake raises his hands in surrender, getting into the backseat. He’s a foot into the car when he realizes he doesn’t have his things. “Wait—I don’t have my shit.”

He gets shoved into the car, hands coming out to catch himself as you push him in roughly. “Can you just shut the fuck up and listen? You’re so annoying.”

“You tell me that everyday, angel,” Jake says, situating himself until he’s comfortable. “This is kinda—”

You groan, getting into the car and closing the door behind you. You lock the doors, tossing your keys somewhere and climbing into Jake’s lap to straddle him. “Do you ever shut up?”

Jake’s hands come to rest on your hips on their own accord. “What are you—” he stops himself when you squirm, grinding down into his lap subtly.

“You’re such a fucking dog,” you start, hands scrambling to take off Jake’s varsity jacket. He complies, leaning forward so you can tug each of the sleeves off. “You know what I’m hearing now?”

He hums, a little confused and a little turned on. Once you’re satisfied at the sight of Jake in just his white shirt, your hands creep lower until they situate themselves under his shirt and on his chest. “It’s funny, this girl is saying you guys fucked.”

“What?” Jake questions with a quirk of his head. 

“Don’t what me. You know who I’m fucking talking about,” your manicured nails scratch at his skin, probably leaving angry red marks. “She’s saying you guys fucked the night of the party.”

Jake hisses when your nails dig into his skin, “but I was with you at the party.”

You scoff, taking your hands out from under his shirt and resting them on his nape. “Exactly, so tell me why she’s saying you guys fucked.”

“Hey,” he groans when you lean in to nip at his jaw, placing sloppy kisses down his neck. “Angel, how am I supposed to know?

Jake tilts his head back to rest against the headrest, letting you continue your ministrations. He bites his lip, a moan almost finding its way out of his mouth when you bite at a spot on his neck, sucking on the skin there. 

You pause in your ministrations, “gonna mark you, have you walk around with my bruises on your neck so people know you’re owned.” 

“Hey—baby, that’s great, but—” Jake’s voice breaks when you nibble harder, hand coming up to his hair to tug at the strands. “We’re at school. In the parking lot.”

You don't let up, kissing along his jaw until you find his lips. You kiss him once, twice before you place your hand over one of Jake’s wrists to detach it from your hip, trailing lower until his fingers meet the soft fabric of your uniform. “But Jakey, feel.”

Jake’s lips part in a silent gasp when you use his fingers to rub between your legs, and he exhales shakily once he feels that you're soaked. He’s losing his self control slowly, and when you rut down against his hand and whine against his lips, he throws all caution out the window.

He lets you grind against his hand for a bit before he cups you over your panties, fingers applying the slightest pressure. You gasp, leaning further against Jake’s chest when he captures your lips with his own, swallowing down all of your noises. 

Jake rubs over your panties, the small whines and whimpers spurring him on further. He toys with the hem of the fabric, “Can—can I?”

You nod, cutting him off with another kiss. Jake slides your panties to the side, finally feeling how wet you really are. “Fuck—angel, you’re fucking dripping.”

“For you, all for you.” You say, panting against his mouth. Your hips buck when Jake trails his fingers through your slit, coating the digits with your slick. Jake groans at the stickiness, and he can’t stop himself from slipping a finger inside. 

“Ah—Jakey,” Jake twitches in his pants at the sound of your voice. He’s been hard since you first sat in his lap, and he’s this close to coming untouched. “You can—you can add another.”

“Fuck—yeah, okay.” Jake rasps out, complying right away. He slips his middle finger beside his ring finger, relishing in the warmth and softness of your warm walls. 

Jake’s brain short circuits and he panics internally because he doesn’t know what to fucking do. He didn’t think he’d get this far. You seem to take notice, because you start grinding down on his fingers yourself. “You don’t have to do anything just—ah, keep your fingers there.”

He obeys, hand staying still while he’s buried knuckles deep, two fingers in your cunt. You take it all, riding his fingers enthusiastically. Wetness drips down to his wrist, and his hips buck against you when you let out a throaty moan. 

“Fuck, you sound so good.” Jake groans, leaning forward to lick the sweat off of your neck. 

You huff at this, your hand gripping tighter from where it’s resting in Jake’s hair. “Shut—shut the fuck up.”

Jake moves his hand again, meeting your every move. He starts to get the hang of it, learning what makes you moan and what makes you whimper. When he curls his fingers, pressing his palm against your clit as he grinds down, you keen.

“Fuck, Jake,” you throws your head back, the sound of your moans filling up the car. “Right there—oh!”

You shudder, clenching around his fingers. Jake can’t stop looking at you, admiring the way your hair falls and the way you looks so pretty like this. “Yeah? There?”

He does it again, curling his fingers and keeping the same tempo as your grinding. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

Jake smiles at the way it brings a whine out of you. He gets brave, slipping his index finger inside next to his others, scissoring them the slightest bit. “Yeah? You like that? So pretty, my pretty fucking angel.”

“Mine, you’re mine,” you cry, head lolling forward to rest on the headrest next to Jake’s ears. You mewl, clenching sporadically around his fingers. “Tell me—say it, you’re mine.”

“Yours. I’m all yours,” Jake says, repeating it again and again. “I’m yours, only yours.”

“Fuck—” you trail off with a moan, reaching below them to tug at Jake’s shorts. “Off, off.”

Jake nods eagerly, using his free hand to shrug his shorts down enough for his cock to come out. “Yeah? Fuck, okay baby.”

Your breath hitches at the sight of Jake’s length before you’re licking your lips and pulling Jake’s hand out from your legs. You reach down to stroke him, humming appreciatively at the way he’s so responsive, cock already hard and leaking in precome onto your hand.

“Jakey, you’re so big, you’d fuck me so good, I’d feel it for weeks,” you close yours eyes at the thought, breath coming out shakily. “Too bad you’re a virgin.”

Jake makes a sound of distress, closing his eyes and whining at the feeling of you stroking him slowly. “Jake, Jakey. Look at me.”

He thinks distantly, whenever you tell him to look at him, it never ends well. He opens his eyes, meeting your mischief filled ones. Jake chokes on a gasp when he feels something wet rubbing against him, looking down to see you rubbing your dripping pussy right against his cock.

“You’re gonna be a good boy, right?” You say, voice coming out restrained. 

He nods, he’d do anything he’s told at this point. You run your hand through Jake’s hair appreciatively before tugging, baring his neck back. “You’re gonna come like this. You can do that, can’t you?”

“Yeah,” he clears his throat. “Uh-huh.”

You smirk, leaning in again to peck him on the lips twice. “You can’t come until I do first. If you last long enough, I might even let you fuck me next time.”

The pure thought of being able to fuck you almost makes him blow his load right there. Jake holds himself back with the little restraint he has left. He nods, promising that he’ll do good.

You reach below them again, grabbing ahold of Jake’s dick and pushing aside your panties to rub your wet cunt against his cock. Jake throws his head back, whining at the feeling. It’s warm and wet and better than his own right hand, and he has to tell himself to not come on the spot.

Jake, if you come right now I’m gonna fucking kill you. God. Do not fucking come.

He can feel himself throbbing when you grind against his cock, spreading your slick all over the length. Jake can’t stop his hips from snapping up, meeting you in your every movement.

Jake uses the hold he has on your waist to guide you back and forth, grinding up as you grind down. He moans at the feeling of you slicking up his cock, and he wonders distantly if this is what it’s going to feel like to be inside of you. His dick twitches in interest at the thought.

“I was so, so fucking mad when I heard that bitch talking about you,” you breath out. “And then I see you fucking hanging around her and, fuck, wanted to fuck you so bad.”

Jake preens, the thought of you being jealous fills his alpha to the brim with pride. “Yeah? Would let you, I bet you want that. Let her see us fucking in front of her. You grinding against my cock like a fucking slut.”

He feels your hips stutter. “You’re mine. She had the fucking audacity to ask me about you. Asking me why people were saying we’re fucking.”

Jake groans at this, his grip on your waist is bruising. He looks down between them, watching as you move your hips against him. Your skirt is covering what he wants to see, and he lifts the hem with a hand. He salivates at the sight of his shiny, wet cock sliding and disappearing between your legs. 

“What’d you say? Hm? Tell me.”

Your hips speed up, your face scrunching up when Jake’s dick rubs you just right. “I told her—I said it was true. That we were fucking, and that you—”

“That I what?” Jake presses, using his grip on your hips to hold you down, grinding up against your pussy. 

He removes a hand from your waist to reach between them, thumb coming down to rub between your legs. You grab his hand shakily, guiding him to your clit. Jake sucks in a breath at the way he can practically feel your hole fluttering against his cock when he rubs your clit experimentally.

“That I what?” Jake repeats.

“That I was your first,” you gasp, shaking in his hold. “That I took your virginity. Let you come inside me and that you were mine.”

Jake moans lowly, shoving his face into your shoulder. “Yeah? You want that? Bet you’d like that, knowing you’re my first. First hole I used—the only hole I’ll use.”

This pulls a shrill cry out of you, who nods eagerly. “You’re—you’re mine, only mine. Gonna let you fill me up like I said, marking me as yours.”

“Yeah, baby? I’m yours, my first is yours. All yours. Fuck.” Jake practically growls out, the thought of you taking his virginity is already too much for him, and before he knows it, he’s cumming against your cunt.

You moan at the feeling, voice rising in octaves as you feel Jake’s cum, warm and hot, shooting up against you. “Oh—fucking shit, Jake—”

You reach down between them, taking Jake’s cock into your hand and positioning it right against your hole. You run the tip of his cock over your hole a few times, spreading the cum there before pushing the head inside. “Fuck, Jake, come inside me—”

Jake bites down on your shoulder, the thought of his cum filling you up pulls a moan out of him, the sound muffled. His body shakes, hip bucking when he feels the tip of his head enter your pussy. “Fuck, fuckfuck.”

When he comes down from his high, head fuzzy and heart beating erratically, you’re breathing heavily. He winces when you grip his hair, tilting his head back with more force than necessary. “You didn’t fucking listen to me. You came first.”

“I’m—I’m sorry.” Jake gets out, still panting from his climax.

“Fucking pathetic, your dick is good for nothing. Can’t even get me off when I ask you to. Really, what are you even good for?” You spit at him, the words making his cheeks heat with embarrassment. 

Jake begs and pleas, “No, I—I can be good.” 

“No, you can’t,” you dig your nails into his scalp, smirking when Jake’s face scrunches up. “You’re not stopping until I come, alright?”

He nods at this, complying with your every word. It clicks in his brain then: he’s wrapped around your finger, and you don't intend on ever letting him go.

Things haven’t changed since the time you cornered him outside the locker room. Well, they haven’t changed much.

You still roll your eyes when you see him, always throwing some shady insults at him that Jake takes with pride, and he still chases you like a loyal dog.

“Why do you keep trying? She literally hates your guts,” Sunghoon says during practice one day. “Isn’t it tiring?”

Jake shrugs, tossing the ball to a random teammate. “I think I’m making progress.”

Sunghoon raises a brow. “Dude, just give up. You’re not gonna crack her anytime soon. How do you know she’s even into alphas?”

If only he knew, Jake thinks. “If your omega hated your guts, would you give up?”

“No, that’s my mate,” Sunghoon replies, easily. “Do you know how long I courted her for until she finally accepted me? Jake. I chased after her since I was a junior. In high school.”

Jake sends him a deadpan look. “Exactly.” He says flatly.

Sunghoon only shakes his head at him. “You’re down bad. So bad.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says passively, waving him off. Jake’s eyes are trained on where you’re stretching a few feet away from them on the field. 

It’s routine now, the way you catch his gaze, smirking as you stretch your legs. Jake watches as you bend down to touch your toes, tilting your head in the way of the locker room before standing up and heading there first.

“Duty calls.” Is all Jake says before taking off, ignoring Sunghoon’s sounds of protest.

“Practice isn’t even over yet!”

Jake jogs over to the locker room, knocking a few times before the door opens and he’s getting dragged in roughly. 

The door closes behind him and he faintly registers the lock clicking shut. Before he can get a word out, there’s a pair of lips attached to his neck.

“Angel, I’m sweaty, and we’re gonna smell like each other.”

You pout against his neck, hand trailing down to cup at his dick over his shorts. You squeeze him once, before rubbing your palm against him. “But I want you so bad, and everyone thinks we’re fucking anyway. Jake…”

Jake can feel his restraint slipping. “Fuck, you’re so…”

“Been watching you all practice, you’re so fucking hot. Couldn’t even focus today, all I can think about is sucking you off.” You say, slipping your hand into Jake’s shorts.

Jake takes a glance at the clock above the lockers, silently appreciative that he has roughly half an hour before anybody would be coming in to use the lockers. When he looks back at you, you’re already looking at him with lust filled eyes and blown pupils.

You blink at him, a lazy smile on your lips as you stroke Jake to full hardness. “Please? Come on, alpha.”

And who is Jake to ever deny you?

“Fuck, fine. C’mere.” Jake replies, pulling you until you’re between a row of lockers. He pushes you by the shoulders, back, back until your knees hit a bench.

Like this, towering over you, he can’t help but feel big—big at the way you appear so small beneath him, nothing like the alpha you’re supposed to be. Jake snorts fondly at the way you look up at him with the biggest puppy eyes.

“You’re cute.”

You instantly frown, lips pulling downwards. “You’re gross. I didn’t bring you here to be sappy. I’d be way cuter with my face covered in your cum.”

You tug at Jake’s shorts, frowning deeper when you realize Jake isn’t budging. “What are you still standing there for? Drop your fucking pants.”

Jake rolls his eyes, grabbing your hair with a fist. He yanks you forward, your chin now digging into his stomach. “You want it so bad? Beg.”

Jake preens internally when your mouth drops open in shock.

“Beg? You want me to fucking beg? In case you forgot, you’re not the one in charge here.” 

“In charge? If you want to suck me off so bad, then beg, angel,” Jake says, yawning. “I have practice to finish, so if you’re not going to, I’m leaving.”

“You’re—” You open your mouth before closing it shut again. 

“Or, how about we try something different this time?” Jake cuts you off, releasing his grip on your hair to get on his knees himself. Even on his knees, you’re eye to eye.

He leans closer, nosing at your cheek and inhaling deeply. “Let’s see how long you can last,” Jake glances at the clock again. “If you hold out, I’ll let you suck me off. Deal?”

“Who’s teaching you these things? Fucker.” You scoff, craning your neck to look at the clock behind them.

“You did.” Jake smiles, and you shake your head, mumbling little shit.

Your facade cracks easily. “Shut up.” You say, smiling so small that Jake would’ve missed it if he wasn’t already staring at your lips.

“So, deal?” He meets you halfway, kissing you softly before pulling away, not missing the way you chase after his lips.

You huff, pulling him back in by his jersey. “Deal.”

And just like the first and second and tenth time, you fall right back into each other.

One thing about you is that you get jealous.

At first, Jake is too caught up in his own jealousy to even entertain the thought of you being jealous.

Their relationship, if you could call it that, is remotely private. Although everyone used to think they’re fucking, they now either think that they hate each other, or are in some sort of platonic fuck-buddies arrangement because people catch them smelling of each other’s scents so often. You’ve both kept it under wraps for months, and you prefer to keep it that way. So when you start acting differently in public, Jake notices.

It starts like this: Having the same group of friends meant that they see each other all the time, being forced to hangout and be in the same vicinity of each other almost every day. So when the casual touches started, needless to say, their friends, and many others, were confused.

First, it was you wrapping an arm around his waist whenever you’re walking together. 

After that, it was you throwing your legs over Jake’s lap at the bleachers.

Another time, when you showed up to practice in his varsity jacket.

Then out of nowhere, you start taking it further.

You start getting handsy in public; at practice, outside of the locker rooms, at parties. Not that Jake minds, he’s just curious to know what caused this. He isn’t complaining, not when you look like that and when you let Jake walk around with his hand stuffed into your back pocket like he owns you—which if you ask him, he does.

But it all hits him when they’re at another party.

When Sunghoon told him his omega is throwing yet another party, Jake automatically agrees, because wherever Sunghoon goes, he goes. And wherever Sunghoon's omega is, you are. You get the idea.

He goes with the intent of seeing you, and free weed, but mainly for you.

So when they get to the familiar house, Jake is on a mission to find you. He leaves Sunghoon and his omega to go around and find you, stopping by the kitchen to grab a cup of spiked punch for him and one for you.

He’s about to head upstairs when, just like last time, Riki stops him.

“Weed?”

Jake makes a mental note to text you and ask him where he is, before nodding. “Lead the way.”

Like the last time, they’re seated on the same couch, smoking Riki’s weed again. Except, you’re nowhere in sight.

Riki leans his head back, exhaling a thin cloud before handing the roll to Jake. “Did you figure things out last time?”

“Yeah,” Jake takes a hit, holding it in for a few seconds before exhaling. “But I can’t find her.”

“Who, ____?” Jake nods in affirmative.

“You sure she’s even here? I haven’t seen her since I got here. Want me to ask my girl?” Riki asks, already reaching for his phone.

“Nah, it’s cool. Pretty sure she’ll show up soon.” Jake shakes his head, waving the joint around before Riki plucks it from his fingers.

Riki shrugs, “If you say so.”

It’s quiet, but comfortable. That’s something Jake likes about Riki: the fact that he never feels the need to fill the space with meaningless small talk. They sit side by side, smoking in silence until someone walks up to them.

It’s a girl, another cheerleader on Sunghoon's omega’s team by the look of the uniform. She holds a cigarette out, asking them for a lighter.  Riki motions to his pocket, mumbling something to Jake. He gets the hint and digs into Riki’s pocket, flicking the lighter open for the stranger. She bends over, closer to the flame to light the end of the stick.

“Thanks, you’re Jake right? Sunghoon's omega’s boyfriend’s friend?” She asks, already making herself comfortable on the handle of the couch.

Jake hums, head tilted back and eyes heavy. “Yeah, best friend.” The girl nods in greeting. “I’m Yun.”

“Riki,” Riki cuts in, snatching his lighter back before shoving it into his pocket. He stands up, shoving his small bag of weed into his hoodie. “My girl is looking for me, see you later Jake.”

Jake nods in goodbye, watching as Riki makes it across the room to the end of the stairs to meet his omega. The sight of Riki’s stupidly bright smile and her fond grin makes his stomach churn. He misses you.

He pulls out his phone, remembering to shoot a text to you.

jakey: where r u jakey: miss u jakey: lonely :(

Jake frowns when you don't reply, and he’s starting to regret smoking because he forgot how clingy it makes him. He huffs, pocketing his phone. He is not going to pout at a party. The girl clears her throat, reminding him that she’s still there. Jake glances up at her.

“Can I have one of your cups?” Yun asks, motioning to the two cups on the table in front of her that say Jake in sharpie.

Jake frowns, shaking his head. “No.”

The girl looks momentarily taken aback, before she recovers, tilting her head. “Why do you have two?”

“Because one is for ____.” He shoots back defensively, leaning forward to place the cups closer to him.

“____? Oh. The one on the team?” She looks up in thought. “She’s pretty cute.”

“Yeah, she is.”

Yun hums. “I think she has a boyfriend or something though.”

“Really?” Jake questions, partially out of curiosity, and mostly because he’s the only boy there could be.

“She comes to practice with hickeys sometimes. And people say they see her and some football player messing around all the time, plus she always smells like another alpha.” Her lips curl down at the corners.

Jake raises a brow in amusement and he has to hold back his laugh. “Really?”

Yun nods enthusiastically, looking around before leaning closer. “Can I have a cup now? I don’t think she’s even here.”

Jake closes his eyes, irritation bubbling under his skin. He forces down a growl, “No, I told you already. It’s for—”

“Me, Yun. It’s for me.”

Jake has never looked up so fast in his life.

“____!” Jake is so happy he could cry.

Your eyes soften at this, and before you know it, Jake is pulling you down right next to him, grabbing one of your legs to throw it over his own. 

“I texted you and you didn’t reply.” Jake says, rubbing his forehead against your cheek.

You rub his nape with a hand, letting Jake rub and scent all over you as he pleases. Jake leans back at the sight of a familiar jacket. “Hey, this is mine.”

You laugh, making yourself comfortable and resting your other leg next to the one already over Jake’s thighs. Jake wraps an arm around your waist, and he can’t help but feel content because: one, he’s warm, and two, he really missed you so bad.

He voices it out loud, “Missed you.”

“Of course you did. God, you’re so clingy when you’re high.” You joke, but you rub your knuckles under Jake’s chin as a way of saying it back.

“Oh, I saved a cup for you. It might be warm now though, it was sitting for a while.” Jake reaches for it, and registers that the random girl isn’t with them anymore.

“It’s okay, Jakey. You can get me another one, yeah?” You reply, and Jake nods, standing up right away, keeping an arm around your shoulders. “God—baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Do you know how long I waited for you? Me and Riki smoked like, three prerolls. I counted.”

“Okay, dumbass. You can count. Now come get me a drink.” You start walking, and Jake follows, as always.

He says at your side, with his arm now around your waist. When they make it to the kitchen, Jake almost throws up at the sight of Sunghoon and his omega making out against a counter.

Jake groans exaggeratedly, tightening his hold on you. “Dude! There’s people here!”

Sunghoon's omega flips him off, only stopping to look over Sunghoon’s shoulder once she sees who Jake is with. She whispers something in Sunghoon’s ear, who turns to side-eye Jake.

“Why are they looking at me like that?” Jake says under his breath, against your ear.

You tilt your head back to look at him. “I don’t know. Maybe because you look dumb.” Jake sulks at this. “Why are you so mean?”

He only receives a pat on the cheek. “Get me a drink, please.” Is all you say before slipping out from under his arm to go meet Sunghoon's omega.”

Jake mumbles to himself about how he’s unappreciated and nobody cares about him, not even Sunghoon.

“Sunghoon what?” 

Jake jolts. “What?”

Sunghoon squints at him. “Are you high?”

“No.” Jake replies, smoothly, too focused on pouring you a drink.

“Uh-huh. What’s up with you and ____?” Sunghoon asks, taking a cup for himself.

“What do you mean?” Jake says, turning to lean back against the counter, eyes drawn to you instantly.

Sunghoon follows his line of sight. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t.” 

“Hey. You made an oath, remember? No lying to your best friend.” Sunghoon nudges him with his elbow.

Jake groans, “You only bring that up when you want something.”

“So?” Sunghoon says, expectantly.

���I told you, nothing’s going on,” he replies. Jake’s chest burns with fondness when he sees you laughing, eyes crinkling at the edges and your pretty teeth on display. “It’s nothing.”

“Yeah, okay. Tell that to the mirror. And your stupid lovesick scent says everything, dumbass. You stink.” Jake can practically hear the sarcasm in Sunghoon’s tone, and he doesn’t have to look to know that he’s rolling his eyes.

“Whatever.” Jake trails off when you meet his gaze, sending him a small smile. He almost thinks it’s cute until he sees Sunghoon's omega, who’s glaring at him, practically cursing him with her eyes. 

“Sunghoon. He’s doing it again.”

“Huh?” Sunghoon pauses for a second before throwing his head back and laughing. “Oh. Babe! I told you, you could totally beat him in a fight.”

Jake shouts in protest, only quieting down when you sidle up next to him. His voice gets caught in his throat, enamored by the way you look so, so pretty. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself.” You lean against his chest, standing between his legs. 

Damn it, he thinks to himself, he’s so fond. “Wanna get out of here?”

Your nose scrunches up at this. “Greasy. The worst line ever,” You detach yourself from Jake. “I need to go to the bathroom first, come with me?”

Jake nods wordlessly, suppressing a smile when you grab his hand and slings it over your shoulders, latching onto his side. Jake likes this, like, really likes this. 

“Reel it in, Jake. Your alpha is showing.” You shake your head, and Jake forgets that you can smell how pleased he is through his scent.

You lead them to the bathroom at the bottom of the stairs, telling him to wait for you. Jake nods, leaning against the wall while he waits obediently. You laugh, mumbling something about how he’s like a big puppy, and he can’t even find it in himself to argue back when you’re right.

He’s on his phone, tapping through people’s Instagram stories when he gets tapped on the shoulder.

“Hey! Jake, right?” 

Jake turns to see Yun, standing a head shorter than him. Jake suppresses a tired groan, because he doesn’t want to be bothered right now, just wanting to get you and go home. “Yeah.” Jake replies, looking back down at his phone.

He can see her shifting awkwardly on her feet. “Are you waiting for the bathroom?”

Jake glances at her before looking at the door. “No, I’m waiting for ____.” “Oh,” she murmurs. “Are you guys a thing?”

“What? We’re—”

She cuts him off with a hand. “No! I didn’t mean it like that—I’m not against alphas dating alphas or anything, fuck society, but I was just curious.”

Jake nods. “Ah. But no, we’re not.”

“Is it like an open relationship thing then?”

“Dude, you’re—” Jake stops himself, trying to withhold himself from bursting on this girl, who hasn’t done anything to warrant it. “No, it’s not.”

“I mean, it’s cool if it is! I was just wondering if you were single.” She gives him a smile, and Jake narrows his eyes. “Is that too forward? It’s cool if you guys are in an open relationship, I’m not opposed to sharing.”

Jake can’t stop the annoyed sigh he lets out. “You talk way too fucking much.”

She frowns. “You don’t have to be rude.”

“Honestly, you’re overstepping right now,” Jake says, hand dragging down his face. “You’re killing my mood.”

“You’re being an asshole.” She spits out, crossing her arms.

Jake snorts, finding the whole situation amusing and exhausting. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

He silently sends a thanks to you when the bathroom door opens. Jake is quick to turn around and hold onto you, pulling you out of the bathroom in a rush. “Thank fuck, I was about to lose my shit.”

“What’s wrong?” You make a confused noise.

“Are you guys together or not?” Yun says, bringing the attention back to her.

Jake rolls his eyes, letting out a frustrated groan. “Please.”

“He’s not gonna fuck you.” Jake watches as you narrow your eyes at her, your scent spiking.

Jake bites his lip to hold back a laugh. “It’s not like you guys are together. Don’t you think that he’d wanna try dating an omega, rather than an alpha?”

“It’s not like he’d wanna fuck you either way,” you say, arm wrapping around Jake’s waist protectively. “Did you need something else? Because I have no problem with you watching us fuck if that’s what you’re really curious about.”

Yun’s face twists in disgust. “You guys are gross. And your boyfriend is an asshole anyways.” “I know.” You reply, and you both watch her turn on her heels and walk away.

When Yun is out of their line of sight, Jake sighs, turning in your hold and hugging you against his chest. Jake’s chest puffs up with pride and his heart swells. “My knight in shining armor. You’re so cute, did I tell you that already?”

You roll your eyes but your face is fond, letting Jake press his face against your neck. You place a kiss on Jake’s neck in return. “Let’s just get out of here, I wanna fuck.”

Jake fakes a pout. “All you want me for is my body.”

“She’s right. You’re an asshole. Hurry up before the offer expires.” You kiss him quickly, before slipping out of his grip and running into the crowd.

Jake’s heart starts to race at the challenge. If you want him to chase you, he will. 

He counts a few seconds in his head before following after you, searching for a jacket with Jake Sim emblazoned on the back.

Jake slips out the door, finding you a few feet ahead of him. It’s already night, and goosebumps rise on his arms from the cold as he runs towards you, catching you in his arms. 

“Wanna fuck in the car?” “No.”

Like always, Jake gets what he wants.

Five minutes later, just as he planned, they’re seated in the back of your car.

The windows are fogged, and he feels thankful that your windows are conveniently tinted—although he wouldn’t mind fucking in the back even if they weren’t.

“Fuck, Jake,” you breathe heavily against him, and Jake has to hold your hips in place to keep you from bucking up against his mouth and hitting him in the nose. “Jakey, fuck, yes.”

If there’s one thing that Jake likes doing, it’s eating you out. 

Even since the first time you taught him, he still finds himself addicted to it. Maybe it’s the fact that you make the prettiest sounds when he does, but honestly, he just likes to make you feel good. Jake thinks he could eat you out for hours.

He’s ripped out of his thoughts when you place a hand into his hair, using the grip to hold him there so you can grind your hips against Jake’s tongue. 

“Hngh, Jake—fuck!” you cry when Jake hums against you, licking along your folds before sucking your clit softly. He uses the hands he has around your thighs to pull you even closer.

Jake relishes in the moans you let out, pulling back the slightest bit to lick circles against your clit. He looks up to drink in the sight of you with your head thrown back, eyes rolled to the back of your head. 

You shake in his hold, and Jake can practically feel the way you’re clenching around nothing. He moans, licking along your slit again before thrusting his tongue inside your hole.

“Oh,” it elicits a whimper out of you, one that breaks off into a long drawn out moan. “Jakey, do—do it again.”

He obeys, fucking his tongue inside of your hole a couple more times before coming back up to suck at your clit. The sounds they’re making are dirty, and Jake closes his eyes at the sound of the wet slurping noises filling up the car. 

You grind up against his mouth. “Fuck, fuck your tongue feels so good. Ah!”

Jake lifts his head, licking his lips before kissing your inner thigh. “You gotta be quiet, people are gonna hear you.”

It’s impossible. Especially because the music coming from the house is too loud and nobody would be able to hear them unless they come to the car, but he likes to entertain the thought anyways, and he knows it gets you off too. 

He smirks against your thigh when it brings a soft, breathy moan out of you. “Yeah? You’d probably like that, huh? You want them to hear you, want them to hear you whine like a fucking bitch with your alpha’s tongue inside of you.”

“Jake, Jakey, please,” your face contorts in frustration when Jake holds your hips down. “Keep going.”

“Say it. Tell me how much you want them to hear you,” Jake replies, moving a hand down to play with your clit. He rubs slowly, just to be a little shit. “Tell me, angel. C’mon.”

You shake your head, “I just—fuck, please.”

“You know what to say.” His breath ghosts over your pussy. 

“Want—want everyone to hear me, want them to hear how good you fuck me,” you pant, head thrown back against the window. “Fuck, want everyone to know how much of a slut I am for you, alpha.”

Jake delivers a harsh suck to your clit, fingers entering your hole at the same time. You sound absolutely wrecked, voice cracking every time you moan. “Gonna stretch you out, open you up so good. Get you ready for my cock.”

You nod erratically, “yeah, yeah. Stretch me open—shit!” Jake curls his fingers, scissoring them and pumping them inside of your hole. The noises are loud, wet squelching mixing with moans and bouncing off the inner walls of the car. 

“Jake, want you now. Can’t wait anymore. Wanna cum on your cock, please.” You get out between cries. 

“Shit, yeah? Fuck, c’mere,” the position is awkward, but he leans back onto his knees to bring their lips together. You pant into the kiss, hips bucking up against Jake’s thigh. “Turn around.”

It’s hard to make it work in the small vicinity of the car, but with Jake’s back pressed to his chest and you on your knees on the seats, you make it work.

He runs his hands along your body, squeezing appreciatively when you shiver. You whine, pushing back against his dick. “Jake, fuck me already, want you now.”

“I don’t have a condom,” he says, looking around the car.

You huff, “I don’t fucking care. We’re both clean and if you don’t fuck me now I’ll kick you out of the car.”

“Impatient.” Jake kisses your shoulder before pulling himself out of his pants. He strokes himself a few times before grabbing his cock to slap it against your cunt. He slides the length between your folds, coating himself in slick to get himself wet. Jake runs the head of his cock against your hole before entering the tip in slowly.

“Fuck,” he groans out when you clench around him. “How are you so fucking tight.”

You both moan simultaneously when Jake finally bottoms out, hips flush against your ass. “Fuck. Gonna fuck you until you’re fucking loose. Gonna have you on my cock all the time.”

You pant, “Like you don’t—fucking do already.”

Jake pulls out to thrust back in harshly, shoving his face into your neck and groaning at the feeling of you so wet and tight around him. “You’re so pretty baby, such a pretty fucking cocksleeve.”

“Shit, Jake!” Jake’s thrusts are fast, unrelenting. The only thought on his mind is to make you come, to make you come first.

The sounds of his hips and balls slapping against you has him groaning, biting into your shoulder. “Wanna fill you up, fill you up with my cum. Gonna knock you up, fuck.”

Jake can feel his dick throbbing inside of you, and his hips stutter at the thought of getting you pregnant. “Gonna—gonna get you pregnant, let everyone know you’re mine. That I’m the only one getting you fuck you like this.”

He pulls your hips flush against him as he thrusts in rapidly, throwing his head back at the feeling of you clenching around him again. “You like that? Wanna walk around full of my cum, knocked up like a dumb whore.”

Your body trembles beneath him as you whimper out pleas. “Yes, yes, fuck, wanna—want it so bad.”

Jake wraps his arms around your waist, hand finding purchase on the smooth expanse of your tummy. “Baby, can you feel that?”

You hold yourself up with one hand, the other feeling around to find Jake’s where it is on your belly. Jake places his hand over yours, pushing down on your tummy. “You’re so fucking tiny, I can feel my cock rubbing up right against your fucking stomach.”

This pulls a throaty moan out of you. Jake’s thrusts don’t let up, and he pulls out until the tip of his cock is against your hole before slamming inside in one go. 

“Baby, talk to me,” Jake says, his breath hot against your ear. He knows how you get, too fucked dumb to even speak. “Hm?”

Your mouth drops open, and Jake takes this chance to slip his fingers in your mouth. It’s wet, and he can feel the drool pooled up and dribbling down the side of your chin. 

He stills, cock still buried to the hilt. “I told you to do something.”

“Mmph!” It comes out muffled around his fingers. Just to be a little shit, he pushes down on your tongue, chuckling lowly when you gag.

“I’m not gonna move until you do what I asked.” Jake keeps his fingers in your mouth, repeating himself.

You shake your head, mewling when drool escapes from the corners of your mouth. “I—hmph.”

Jake presses down on your tongue again before thrusting his fingers deeper, barely hitting the back of your throat. “God, you’re fucking drooling everywhere like a whore.”

He takes mercy on you, finally pulling his fingers out of your mouth with little resistance. You gasp, head lolling and forehead coming into contact with the window. 

Your voice comes out broken, “Jake, fuck, please—need to come so bad, want your cock so bad, please, I’ll be so good.”

Jake decides to be nice, pulling out before thrusting inside roughly. He trails his spit slicked fingers down your jaw to circle around your nipple, smearing the spit there. You jolt, hips bucking back against Jake’s cock.

“You always get so dumb when you have a cock inside you, huh? That’s all it takes for you to shut up?” Jake pinches your nipple. “You’re so fucking easy.”

You clench sporadically around his dick, telltale signs that you’re getting close. Jake brings his hand lower to rub at your clit rapidly, hips never slowing. 

Jake growls against your neck, “Such a dumb bitch. You’re a dumb puppy. Right? Getting fucked by another alpha like a stupid omega.” 

You scream at this, voice high pitched when you cum around Jake’s cock. Jake groans at the feeling of your walls tightening around him, rolling his eyes when he feels wetness seeping down his balls and to his thighs. 

Jake doesn’t let up, fucking you through your climax. “Fuck, you fucking squirted? You really are a dumb fucking bitch.”

He hears you sob, and it only spurs him on further. Jake fucks into you at an animalistic pace, stomach tightening at the whines and whimpers you’re letting out. 

“Jakey, Jake, can’t—it’s too much, ah!” You cry, cheek pressing up against the window. 

Jake growls against your neck, “fucking take it.” 

His hips stutter when you choke on a sob, the band in his stomach finally snapping. He buries himself to the hilt, making sure to coat every inch of your insides with his cum. 

Your hole flutters around him, tightening and clenching at the feeling of Jake’s cum, warm and hot, filling you up to the brim. 

Jake manhandles them back against the seats, making sure to keep his cum plugged into you. He leans back, you now in his lap, back against his chest. At this angle, he feels even deeper, and he can’t stop himself from thrusting up into your heat once more.

You protest, scrambling until your hands are holding onto the back of the driver’s seat. “I’m, I’m too sensitive.” 

He spreads your legs, hand coming down between them to rub at your swollen, abused clit. Jake suppresses a smirk when you flinch, tightening around him in surprise. 

“Jake, I can’t—it’s too much, please,” you beg, squirming in Jake’s lap.

“Your alpha is still hard, baby. Be good for me, you’re gonna cum again, okay? I know you can.” Jake kisses your shoulder, nosing along your nape. 

You shake your head, panting heavily. “I can’t, Jake, please.”

Jake tuts, hand still rubbing circles against your clit. He brings his other hand to play with your nipples, knowing where you’re the most sensitive like the back of his hand.

“C’mon, I know you can. You wanna be good for me, yeah?” He places a wet kiss onto your neck when you nod. “Be a good omega and cum again, wanna feel you cum around my cock again.”

You gulp, exhaling through your nose. Your whole body shakes and quivers in Jake’s hold. Jake talks you through it, whispering about how good you are and how obedient you are. 

He brings the hand that was playing with your nipple up to wrap around your throat, applying the slightest pressure there. Jake thrusts his hips up at the same time as he squeezes your throat — and that’s all it takes to push you over the edge again.

You curl up, too fucked out to do anything other than cum and sob silently. Jake feels it when you cum, your walls tightening around his cock. He squeezes again before releasing his hold around your neck to turn your head and capture your lips in a kiss.

The angle makes it hard for them to kiss, but you take it all, opening your mouth obediently and letting Jake explore every inch of your mouth with his tongue. They kiss lazily for a few more minutes before you pull away with a wince.

“My seats are gonna be so gross,” you say, leaning your head back to rest against Jake’s.

He wraps his arms around your waist. “Who’s fault is that?” 

“Yours. You’re the one who always wants to fuck in the fucking car. In my car!” You shoot back. You make a sound of protest when Jake goes to pull out. “Don’t! It’s gonna make a bigger mess.”

“Liar, you just like the fact that my cum is inside of you right now.” Jake teases. 

You groan, “Shut up, no I don’t.” They both know it’s a lie.

“Kinky,” he strokes your stomach with a thumb. “Hey.”

You hum, still leaning against his chest. “Are we… Are we gonna keep acting like this?”

“Like what?” You question.

“Like we hate each other.” Jake replies. 

It’s silent for a few minutes before you speak again, “is that what you want?”

“Is that what you want?” Jake repeats. 

You swallow, the sound making an audible click inside the quiet car. “Let’s talk about this when you’re not literally balls deep inside of me.”

Jake makes a sound of agreement, but he can’t help the uneasy feeling that fills his chest. He listens, trusting that they’ll cross that bridge when they get there, because if there’s anything about Jake, it’s that he always wins and he always gets what he wants. 

And what Jake wants? It’s always been you.

[lemotmo]

I'm sat regardless

Q. Any thoughts on what we might actually get on the Buddie front in the finale? There's too much coming out now and I'm too online.

A. I think we're getting something from Eddie's side in the finale. Which is needed and makes sense. A kiss was only ever going to be on the table if it was a life or death 'I'm so glad you're alive' pure relief kind of thing. Doesn't sound like it's going to be that extreme. Sounds like there will be peril but probably not the appearance of someone dying, which makes sense on the heels of the Bobby stuff. And both Oliver and Ryan have made a point of mentioning Eddie's sexuality. The show has to address that to some extent before Buddie can truly be an option, even if it's only addressed where Buck is concerned. The issue for lots of people though is they absolutely will refuse anything that isn't a kiss or mutual 'I love you' as proof of where things are going. And I'm not playing that game or giving space for that grievance to people anymore. All Oliver was basically saying was the scenes are not going to be good enough for some people, because he knows what some people's expectations are. The unavoidable truth is that because of this last minute Bobby nonsense the story lost a lot of momentum that they now have to reestablish. We have to have Eddie's answer re his sexuality or some kind of Buck moment for him. That is a must before things can go forward. And the truth is if we see Eddie turn down the Texas job and that captain says anything along the lines of you said there wasn't anything to leave for and the camera pans or Buck and Christopher THAT will be the confirmation. And it's an entirely personal problem for you (general, anon, not you specifically) if that's not good enough for you. That's absolutely how I took Oliver's quote. No kissing equals automatic disappear some. He had every right to say that the way he did because it's accurate.

Thank you Nonny!

Hmmm, I agree that ideally we will get to see something Eddie-related in this episode. But I wouldn't put it past this show either to have Buck finally realise that he does have feelings for Eddie.

They set the storyline up so nicely in 8x11 that I feel it needs to reach its natural conclusion. I really think we might get to see this.

But we'll see what happens when the finale airs. I'm not willing to take any bets on this. At this point? Anything can happen! 😂

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[xdivinedecay]

I decided to stop and look up if Wildberry incense is known to include formaldehyde in their incense since they're like, the most popular or commercially-accessible brand of incense in the USA. I can't find reference to use of formaldehyde (unfortunately there is nothing when you search "ingredients" on their main retail site...), but a reddit comment suggests that many of their scents are synthetic, which are usually made up of petroleum products.

I just urge for critical shopping and research if you're buying incense with pets in the space since they are so much more susceptible to these small airborne particles! I wonder if synthetic fragrances mean you can burn scents that are of plants/etc. known to be poisonous to common domestic pets, but I really wonder if it's best to just avoid those scent types all together...

[sincerely-sofie]

*silently slides Twig/Ark content onto your dash* *scurries away into the night*

(Read the rest under the cut!)

[nobodybetterlookatme]

Update 2: the germaphobia didn't win bc he sneezed so hard he cried kinda and I can't not hug the people I like when there's tears so that's where we're at now lmao I'm literally so fucked but at least I'm not doing anything the next week 😭 checked him over since caution has been thrown to the wind, dude for sure has the flu but I'm hoping I can dodge it bc I got vaccinated so fingers crossed there. Ran out of tissues, so he's resorted to napkins and his jacket which isn't nearly as hot irl as it is in fic, but this is what it's come to 😔 also he's gone through three more masks and I'm lowkey scared he's gonna run out of those too 😭😭

[drchucktingle]

three point tether

the reason art with ai at the creative helm will never get traction in any long term or meaningful trot is because art is more than what is in the text of the book, or notes of the song, or runtime of the movie. art is whats OUTSIDE of the medium, a performance piece between creator and experiencer

i say this all the time and i think most buckaroos think im off in the clouds as eccentric ART WEIRDO (theyre NOT WRONG) but in a practical BUSINESS sense what i am saying is true. folks want to pretend art is in some lab where art and artist and viewer are separate things. but they never will be

art exists outside of a vacuum. it is not static. it grows and lives and evolves based on culture its in and who is experiencing it. whether you know it or not, what you LIKE or DISLIKE has just as much to do with the story AROUND the art than the art itself.

you carry what you know about me to my tinglers, you carry what you know about the beatles to the beatles, you even carry what you DONT KNOW to artists and THAT changes your experience. the STORY outside of the art is unavoidable because the lack of a story is still a story

so what does this have to do with ai art? my point is, the STORY of ai generated art is potentially interesting when it FIRST happens, or when its a one of one, but when it is co-opted by corporations to make slop, or when you consider the ethics of data scraping and theft, the story becomes sour

in other words, REGARDLESS OF WHAT AI GENERATED ART ‘MAKES’, the STORY outside of the story is derivative and unethical. what is even more important, and the greatest problem of all, is that its very very BORING. ‘oh wonderful someone made a painting from a prompt CANT WAIT to dive into this world’

so fundamentally these projects from tech goofs only serve to show that they have absolutely no understanding of art in the first place. the starry night is not just a painting, it is a three point tether between van gogh, the painting and us, which is constantly breathing and moving and living

if i was to give advice to any artist about how to stand out in their field i would say this: figure out what YOUR STORY is, not just within your chosen medium, but OUTSIDE of any medium. THAT STORY is your art, and it is infinitely cosmically unique. USE IT. EMBRACE IT. that is your power buckaroo

[moonlight-at-dawn]

Maybe now that I have adderall again I can get back to all the things I've left off....

[mariasont]

i loved lipgloss!!! i was wondering if i could pls request smth where spencer walks in the BAU unaware of the lipgloss on his lips from kissing bimbo!receptionist or on his cheeks from being kissed then everyone's like "👀☝️🤨" (english isnt my first language im sorry😭)

STICKY SITUATIONS - S.R

a/n: back with the lipstick trope yeehaw, can't tell you all how much i appreicate u all and how patient u guys are with me when i ghost for like 5 months at a time. thank you so much for the request sug <3

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

warnings: spencer daydreaming about inappropriate things! PDA!

wc: 1.1k

Spencer woke up feeling untouchable, like nothing in the world could shake him. The kind of invincible where even the sky didn't seem like a limit. You had stayed the night, as you often did, and yet every time he woke up with you beside him, it felt like walking on air. Today was no exception.

You made sure he was late today — both of you were. He blamed you entirely, though he didn't mind. You pinned him down with a thousand little kisses, laughing as you insisted that it's essential for a day filled with good luck, and how else was he going to catch all the bad guys without a little charm from you?

Spencer's body vibrated like it was attuned to some invisible, higher frequency, one you alone could set. The smile threatening to break free felt inevitable, like a law of nature, as his mind drifted to thoughts of you — so unavoidable it was as if trying to pinpoint an electron's exact position and momentum in time. 

He had half a mind to swing by the reception desk just to see you. Just for a second. He'd convince himself it was enough, even though it never really was. Today, however, there was no chance he'd make it to his meeting. Not when you were wearing that skirt — his favorite. The one that fit you like it had been hand-stitched by hand for you alone, showing off your thighs in a way that made him picture them around his —

“Reid, you're —,” Hotch's voice snapped him back into reality, his brows down turning as he regarded Spencer with a curious frown before shaking his head. “Late. C'mon.”

Spencer followed Hotch into the conference room, their entrance as routine as ever, or so he assumed. But the moment they stepped inside, something shifted. The room crackled with stifled laughter, a ripple of poorly contained snickers breaking out across the team.

He froze mid-step, confusion knitting his brow as he scanned the room. His gaze flitted from face to face, trying to uncover the source of their amusement. The laughter, he realized with growing bewilderment, was somehow aimed squarely at him.

His pulse quickened as self-awareness kicked in, and his eyes darted downward, trying to detect the anomaly that had captured everyone's damn attention. A loose thread? A stain? Panic bloomed in his chest as he mentally ticked through a list of possibilities. His sweater seemed intact, no wayward strings. His pants were fine, no errant coffee stains or wrinkles. And his hair — well, his hair always had a mind of its own, but it wasn't that unruly today. Right?

Bastards.

He cleared his throat. “Okay, what did I miss?”

Emily tried, and failed, to smother her laughter behind a closed hand, shaking her head. “I think you might need to go to look in the mirror, lover boy.”

Spencer didn't bother questioning her. No explanation would be offered, at least not freely. He knew he'd get no real answers from this group, and honestly, he wasn't even sure he wanted them at this point. Instead, he slipped out of the conference room and headed down the hall, his mind a muddled tangle of confusion.

He was so distracted, so consumed with trying to figure out what he'd missed, that he nearly missed the sound of quick, approaching footsteps. It was only at the last second that he looked up, just in time for you to collide with him.

His hands moved instinctively, catching your waist as you stumbled forward, stopping you from toppling over.

Spencer's breath caught. Gods know if you'd fallen in those heels, you'd be lucky to escape with just a sprained ankle. But you didn't fall. Instead, you let out a startled giggle as you looked up at him wide-eyed.

“Whoopsie,” you said with a smile. “Hi there, handsome.”

The instant the words left your lips, you clamped a hand over your mouth, fighting back a high-pitched squeal of laughter.

Spencer, even more bewildered, furrowed his brows in confusion. “Okay, what?”

“Hold still,” you instructed, though your voice wavered between stifled giggles. You reached up for him, your fingertips hovering near his face.

He followed your hand with his eyes, still clueless, until you gently cupped his cheek. Whatever it was on his skin drew another wave of laughter from you, and in response, he prodded at your sides, each poke sending you into another fit of delighted squeals.

“Hey, that's not holding still, Dr.!” you gasped, halfheartedly swatting at his hands while you finished wiping away the last bit of whatever had clung to his face.

“Whoopsie daisy,” you said again, still brushing invisible flecks from his cheek, your voice reminding him of what he envisioned sunshine poured into a teacup would manifest as. “Aw, Spence, looks like I kinda-sorta-maybe left a tiny little lipstick stain behind.”

Your tone was drenched in honeyed innocence, as if this kind of thing just happened and you had no earthly clue how.

Spencer's eyes narrowed. “Is that why I've been subjected to my team's thinly veiled harassment?”

Your eyes went wide, and you gasped as if you'd just witnessed a high crime. “They were giving you trouble? Oh my gosh!”You pressed your fingertips to your lips. “Do I need to have a word with them?”

The determination in your voice sounded all too serious, and he was a little scared that you were actually prepared to march back to that conference room in your pretty heels and give the entire BAU a piece of your mind.

Spencer nearly chocked on a laugh. Of all possible reactions, yours was the sweetest, most fiercely protective, and downright hilarious. He held up a hand in a placating gesture, lips curving into a boyish grin. 

“Hmm, I appreciate the offer,” he murmured, gently tapping his chin with a finger as if considering it. “However, I think you might need to have a word with the real culprit who decided my face should double as her personal canvas this morning.”

“Me?” You pressed a hand dramatically to your heart. “I would never! I mean, sure, I might've given you a million good-luck kisses before you left, and maybe one or two... or three of my lip gloss stains decided to stick around, but that's hardly my fault!”

You shifted your weight to the balls of your feet and wiggled your fingers in a helpless sort of gesture. “That's just how good my gloss is, y'know?”

“Right,” he replied, voice quieter now, eyes warm as they traced your face. “Clearly the lip gloss is at fault. We'll have to issue it a stern warning later.”

“Exactly! Don't blame poor, innocent me.”You paused, lowering your voice conspiratorially, leaning close enough that he caught the faint scent of your perfume. “And if any of the team give you grief again, you know where to find me!”

Spencer hummed, placing a light hand on the small of your back, steering you gently away from the corridor.

“I'll keep that in mind,” he murmured, smiling as if the world had just aligned perfectly in that very hallway. “But for now, maybe we should try to make sure I get back to my meeting... gloss-free.”

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[soobnny]

stay (forever, if you’d like) — lee know x reader ; the six times he asks you to stay (2.3k words)

happy bday lee know, you are my light

one.

There’s this thing about Minho—in the way his eyebrows are furrowed, eyes sharp, and lips always in a tight line. It’s why they call him cold, unapproachable. The same people that have intrigue and intimidation written on their faces when they lay eyes on the boy.

They just don’t know him.

His eyes are a lot softer than they describe. They’re wide, wonder-like, and they shine with something you can’t quite identify, but there. Present. There is so much you can decipher with a single look—mischief, pain, sincerity, love.

Those same eyes are looking at you right now. Almost pleading, but painfully trying not to look obvious.

“It’s getting dark outside.” He acts as if he isn’t the reason you’re still at his dorm.

Attempts at leaving, all in vain, flash before your eyes. You have to admit, your best friend is nothing but convincing, and a little manipulative in how he keeps you captive until there is reason for you to stay. “You should stay.”

You can hear the kettle whistling from a distance. It’s water for tea with measurements for two, like he knew you wouldn’t leave.

“Min.” You let out a breathy laugh. He’s almost detached himself from the couch he’d sprawled himself on earlier, inching closer and closer and closer until he gets the answer that he wants.

It’s obviously for your safety, it’s dangerous walking along at night. You would be stupid not to stay. That’s what he tells himself, but there is a feeling in his stomach telling him there’s more to it. He really really doesn’t want to think about it right now.

“Fine,” you sigh.

“Good decision. It seems that you value your life after all,” he says. There’s a hint of a smile playing on his lips that he doesn’t quite show. You can always tell, though. It’s usually when he gets something he wants.

“But I’m leaving first thing in the morning.”

(You won’t.)

two.

seungmin (2:03am): pls pick minho up. drunk

You have to look at Seungmin’s message twice before it properly registers.

You remember Minho telling you he wouldn’t be drinking tonight, but it seems there’s been slight changes to his plans. You wonder if Jisung’s peer pressure finally worked on him tonight.

yn (2:05am): omw

Your dorm is only a few minutes away from where they’re drinking, and your best friend had asked you to come with him earlier, but you’d decided against it. You weren’t in the mood for the stench of alcohol in your nasal cavity.

Though, with your sudden task of picking the boy up, it seems unavoidable now.

It isn’t difficult to spot him. The moment you’re merely a block away, you find Minho just outside with a sleeping Felix on his shoulder. Their backs are slouched, and his eyes look like they’re fighting not to close.

“(Name)!” Seungmin calls out for you first, and it’s hard to miss Minho’s head pointed directly in your direction the moment your name slips out of his friend’s mouth, like he’s been looking there this whole time.

“It was fun to have blackmail material at first, but now I’m just tired.” The younger boy sighs.

You laugh, and something bitter bubbles in the sitting boy’s stomach. He lets himself sit on the feeling for quite a while. Jealousy is an ugly monster, but he doesn’t know that yet. “Please take care of him.”

When you crouch in front of Minho, the scowl on his face softens.

“You’re here.” He mumbles, exhaustion dripping from his voice. He reaches out to you, and Seungmin mutters something you don’t quite hear.

“Did you have fun?”

“Mmm,” he hums. He’s really drunk. And by his curtained eyes and his lack of dignity, you can tell he’s a goner. And so is the sleeping boy next to him.

You look around to see if there’s a convenience store nearby. Water would be a good buffer to the eventual hangover that’s waiting for them in the morning.

“‘M just gonna buy some wat—”

“Stay.” He interrupts you, just loud enough that you get a whiff of the whiskey he’d been drinking.

“You’ll feel better if you drink water.” Your eyes flicker to the convenience store for a moment before refocusing on your best friend.

A visible frown crosses his features, and his skin is flushed out from drinking. “You just arrived. Stay, please?” The way he begs entices you, because it’s not often that your best friend pleads.

“You’re saying please? You must be really drunk.” You laugh before falling to sit next to him in resignation. There is no arguing with him, not when he’s gripping the bottom of your shirt and tugging for you to stay with him for a moment.

Then there’s a sudden weight on your shoulder. He mirrors the way Felix is laying on him.

Five minutes pass.

“Wanna nap.” He mumbles. Minho feels so much like a child like this.

“You can sleep at my dorm tonight.”

“You’ll stay with me there?” He asks, almost innocent. He lifts his head from your shoulder momentarily and looks at you—eyes hazy and hair fucked out from the harsh winds of the early morning. And yet, he still looked pretty. Even at 2 in the morning.

“Mhm, but we have to go now.” Minho groans when your warmth suddenly leaves him, but he doesn’t have time to dwell when your hand meets his vision, outstretched for him to hold.

Seungmin whisks Felix awake.

“Okay.” He grabs your hand with a tired grip, and your bones rattle at how he intertwines your fingers. As if he’s always held your hand that way. And he keeps it that way until you arrive just ten minutes after.

Minho crashes on your couch before you can even hand him a glass of water.

three.

“Stay.” Stone cold sternness.

Minho doesn’t boss you around, at least, never seriously. He knows you hate being told what to do, but there is something about the circumstances right now, something in the fear of your voice, that has him using imperatives.

“Just—” He cuts himself off, trying to keep himself calm.

Even through a phone call, you know what face he’s pulling. That scowl, lips shut, eyes angry. “Stay with Chan. I’m on my way.”

“I don’t know why he’s here.” Fear drips from your voice far too easily and your painstricken words make it difficult for the boy not to speed. Your ex-boyfriend has always tried keeping contact with you despite your obvious distaste. He makes you uncomfortable, and he has aggression tendencies.

The thought of him makes Minho step on his accelerator. He’s thankful Chan is with you. Had he not, Minho would’ve been in deep trouble with the law enforcement.

“You’re with Chan, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Good.”

When he arrives, he asks his friend to lead you to his car.

Minho is really angry, and the sight of your ex-boyfriend kicks things up a higher notch. You don’t know what he’s about to do, but he’s scary when he’s upset. Chan tries to take your attention away, but the dynamic in Minho’s voice is too loud. It’s the one he doesn’t like to use on anyone he cares about.

“You’re lucky we’re in public. If you so much as look at my best friend, I’m going to kill you.” There is no remorse when he speaks, and his fists are balled up tight. He’s trying his best not to use them. “Fuck you.”

He returns to you and Chan no longer than five minutes, but definitely long enough to scare off your ex-boyfriend. Chan hands him his car keys, and Minho says nothing the entire ride home. His anger is still evident, almost seething off of him.

“Are you okay?” He asks long after Chan is gone, and it’s only the two of you just outside your dorm. The night air is crisp, cold in contrast to the overwhelming heat he’d felt earlier. “I’m sorry if I scared you. I didn—”

Minho shuts his mouth when you suddenly wrap your arms around him. “Thank you.”

The rage melts from his face, features softening. He brings his own arms around you.

He stays the night at your dorm.

four.

They’re so pretty!”

Your face stands out in the sea of spring’s flowers. You’re unaware of the way he’s looking at you, eyes shifting in excitement.

“I hope the bees sting you.” You roll your eyes at him, dropping your vision to continue admiring the fields of flowers. They’ve bloomed so beautifully.

Minho disappears for a moment, but you don’t worry too much. He was probably looking for the nearest bench. You’d dragged him out after all. He hasn’t changed at all since you’d gotten together. He was still stubborn, and yet sickeningly sweet when he wanted to.

Your boyfriend comes back with his hands behind his back, and it has you squinting at him. What could he be up to this time?

He’s suddenly standing impossibly close to you, and you almost lose the rhythm of your breathing with how close he is. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this. “Stay still.”

His hand reaches out towards you, fingers pushing a few strands of your hair away. A quiet heartbeat later, he pulls back, and the only difference you feel is something pinched just behind your ear. You wonder if it’s what you think it is.

(It is. An unassuming flower decorates the side of your face.)

Minho’s heart softens at the sight. “Pretty.”

The sight of you brings spring’s flowers to shame, he thinks.

five.

Arguing has always been something that wasn’t easy for the both of you, especially Minho. He hated fighting, but sometimes, it couldn’t be helped.

It’s how you found yourselves with puffy eyes and red noses. You barely remember what you were arguing about in the first place, but you have an overwhelming urge to leave. You think it’s so the fight doesn’t escalate, and because you don’t like that look on his face.

You say nothing when you move to open the door.

“What are you doing?” He sighs. He’s hesitant if he should step forward or not.

“I’m leaving.”

“You can’t.”

“I can, and I will.” You sniffle, a hand coming up to wipe your stubborn tears before planting on the doorknob of your shared apartment. “I hate it when we fight.”

“You don’t think I hate it too?” He frowns, hand hovering over yours. “But leaving isn’t the right option right now. Just stay, and we’ll talk about it more in the morning. I know you’re tired, but please. Stay.”

You cry even more into his chest, but he couldn’t be less bothered at the snot that’s staining his shirt. He brings you closer by your waist, hand patting down on your hair to quietly try and soothe you. He regrets letting the argument escalate this far. “I’m sorry.”

“‘M sorry for ruining your shirt.” You pull away, eyes trained on the big wet stain decorating the shirt he’s wearing.

“It’ll dry by tomorrow morning.” He reassures you, swaying the both of you gently. “Please don’t ever think about leaving.”

There’s something about the pain in his eyes that has your heart breaking further, and the way he bends down to cup your cheeks softly in his hands. He doesn’t reek of frustration anymore.

“Wasn’t gonna.” You mutter.

“You scared me for a second.” He shakes your head in his palms slowly before pressing a wet kiss on your lips. Your face is warm from crying. “Just… stay.”

(Forever, if you can. If you’d like.)

six.

You wake up to find him already looking at you, though he’s barely awake himself.

A greeting sits on his tongue, of your third anniversary, but he swallows it down for a moment. “Did you sleep well?” He asks instead, voice a little husky from the morning air.

“Hmmm.” You yawn, feeling something tickle just behind you. You know it’s one of the cats. They’ve grown into the habit of joining you and Minho in bed lately.

He smiles at you softly, arms reaching out to tug you back against his warm, very shirtless chest. And while you’d hate to ruin the quiet of the morning, you know you have to leave in a bit. You’d promised to run a quick errand.

“Baby, have to go.” You giggle when his grip only tightens around you. It’s never easy peeling yourself out of bed with Minho.

“How mean, already trying to leave me on our anniversary.” You know he’s pouting by the way he talks to you. You can only laugh—breathy and genuinely happy.

“I’ll be quick.” You whisper, and you hear a quiet ‘meow’ from your left.

“The babies would hate to see you go.” He whines.

“How classy of you to use them against me.” He smirks quite proudly, limbs still heavy over you. He refuses to let you go, not when your skin on his is a reminder of the things that had happened the night before, not when it feels this comfortable.

The sun continues to seep through the blinds to join the both of you, a taunting reminder that you really had to leave. You try to tug your arm free, but his fingers dig deeper into your skin.

“I’ll be right back.” You try to convince him, but all he does is plant a kiss on your neck before burying his face back into the scent of your hair. You know there’s no talking this out with Minho.

“Stay.” You can’t help the way your heart swells at a single word. “You won’t regret it.”

You have a feeling there’s a different connotation to his words. You think you know what.

“Fine.” You know there was never a chance that he’d let you go, even if you tried to wriggle yourself out.

He smiles. “Just wanna stay like this a little bit longer.”

Minho meets your lips like it’s the perfect time to do so. It is, always. He kisses you sweetly, gently, like there wasn’t anything else to do. He doesn’t make a move even when his phone rings somewhere in the room.

And you’ll stay. And stay, and stay, and stay.

Forever.

You think you’d like that.

[lovebugism]

smutty requests you say... maybe eddie x reader fooling around secretly, while wayne's home? so like a little exhibitionism kink?

i'm just now realizing i totally misread the prompt so pls forgive me anon, i'll happily write a part 2 to this if u want!! — the first time uncle wayne catches you and eddie in the act™ (established relationship, inspired by this universe, smut 18+ | 1.3k)

“Alright. I’m headed out,” Wayne announces in a gravelly drawl, huffing as he rises from his creaking recliner. His work boots sound heavy on the worn carpet as he trudges towards the front door, closer to a wretched and unavoidable graveyard shift. His old bones are weighed down by a preemptive dread and a homemade meal you cooked with him in mind.

Eddie feels bad for being so happy to see him leave.

“Have fun,” the boy lilts playfully from where he’s sprawled along the couch, smiling wide with his head tilted to his shoulder.

Wayne grumbles vaguely in response.

“Bye, Mr. Munson,” you grin more sincerely than the boy beside you.

The man flashes you a mere hint of a grin, which is a whole lot more than most people get these days. He pulls a worn baseball cap over his balding head and nods once in your direction. “Bye, sweetpea,” he responds in his usual gritty and melodic Southern cadence.

The rusted hinges of the screen door squeal open and shut behind him. A wintery breeze billows in, briefly piercing the heated trailer and biting at Eddie’s burning skin. 

You idle on the other side of the couch, with your eyes drawn to the sitcom playing in static colors ahead of you — unaware of your boy’s building desire and far too distant for his liking. Eddie marvels at your profile, unabashed and boyish, and waits for the perfect moment to strike.

He hears Wayne’s truck door close with a muffled thud. The ignition rattles for a moment, then roars when amber headlights shine suddenly through the sheer curtains. Eddie waits until he hears the tires crunch against the gravel drive before he pounces on you, like unsuspecting prey to a predator of unbridled longing.

You squeal when his mouth locks suddenly with your pulse, warm and wet on your unkissed skin. He wraps you in his arms like he intends to smother you against him. You swear you can feel his heart racing against your shoulder. His tongue darts along the most sensitive spot on your neck, and your head tips back with an airy laugh.

“What?” Eddie mumbles, muffled into your skin.

“Nothing,” you giggle. “Just thought you’d last longer than that.”

“Hm. Feel like I’ve heard that one before.”

“Shut up,” you gripe, but pull him impossibly closer just the same.

You bury your nose in his wild curls, inhaling the sweet scent of his conditioner and the subtle skunky smell of weed. He mouths at your neck with an intentional sloppiness that makes your eyes flutter.

Eddie grumbles a moan against your skin, which you feel in little tingles in the pit of your stomach. “You taste good,” the boy observes mindlessly into your pulse.

“I taste like sweat,” you scoff against his temple. “I still need to shower.”

“What’s the point? You’re just gonna get dirty again.”

Eddie pulls away with a soft smack. His lips are rosy and softly swollen as they curl into a grin. His chocolate eyes swim with mischief as yours narrow into a squint. “You’re such a boy,” you deadpan.

“Just love you,” the boy shrugs. “That’s all.”

You’re grateful when his lips finally meet yours. You’re only able to breathe when he’s kissing you, in a heavy exhale through your nose that fans along his cupid’s bow. He licks into your mouth tasting like a homecooked meal and nicotine and boy. Something foreign and nostalgic and tender. You melt into him accordingly. 

When he urges you to lay back against the couch, you let him. You cradle his face in your hands to keep him close as he props himself on his forearms, careful not to crush you despite his efforts to kiss the breath from your lungs. His weight is a comforting one anyway — body warm and lean and pleasantly heavy on top of yours.

You forget to take another breath until Eddie pulls away. You inhale deeply, lungs grateful for air, as the boy’s mouth treks down your jaw.

He leaves a trail of wet kisses down your neck and collarbone, spit cooling and drying again on your skin. Goosebumps pebble in their wake, while his hand slides down your stomach.

His fingertips creep into the waistline of your pajama pants, perhaps a fruitless distraction from the lovebite he sucks just below your jaw. It’s a burning sensation of his teeth, followed by a warmer, more pleasant one as his tongue smooths over the bite.

“What are you? A vampire?” you giggle, fingers twisting in his hair.

You feel his smile curl into your neck. “Maybe,” he quips.

“I have to go leave eventually. You know that, right? And my roommates will freak if they see a hickey.”

Eddie whines between his kisses. “No, you don’t,” he insists with an audible frown. “Why can’t you just stay here forever?”

“Even if I wanted to, Wayne would still see. And that would be equally as horrifying.”

“He won’t be back until morning,” Eddie argues, punctuated by his teeth scraping your pulse. “It’ll be faded by then. Probably.” He licks over the bite and pulls away, peering down at you with a mischievous leer. “Unless… You want me to stop?” he offers in a sarcastic lilt.

You squirm under his gaze. “No…” you answer sheepishly.

He grins. “Then stop complaining, sweet thing.”

“Eddie,” you scold when the boy ducks down again, continuing his assault on your delicate skin, though you make no further attempt to stop him.

His kisses grow wetter and warmer and more languid as his hand travels down down down. A breathy moan catches in your throat when his calloused palm cups your bare pussy.

The damp, velvet feeling of you makes Eddie’s eyes widen. He didn’t know you’d be naked down there. He might’ve been more careful about it if he had.

“Shit,” he huffs.

“Sorry,” you squeak, face swirled apologetically.

Eddie pulls away again, head spinning as he stares down at you with heavy eyes. “No— Don’t— Don’t apologize for that shit, are you kidding?” he stammers, then laughs at how sorrowful you look. Like this could ever be a bad thing. “It’s hot.”

You smile sheepishly. “I’m just running out of clean clothes. That’s why I had to do the laundry today.”

“Well, next time, I’m just gonna lock the door to the washer,” Eddie retorts playfully. “So then you have to walk around naked.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re such a boy,” you repeat, right before you drag him down by his shoulders to swallow him in another kiss.

You lick into his mouth only to find that his hand had never wavered. He cups you delicately there still, and creeps his middle finger between your satiny folds. 

Your hips buck on instinct. His palm bumps your clit. Your moans entwine in a kiss.

The screen door opens again with another grating screech. You and Eddie part instantly, swollen mouths smacking as your heads turn in sync.

Wayne stills in the doorway, weathered face swirled in horror. Neither of you move for several long moments — like, if you stay still, you’ll turn invisible somehow.

“Really?” Wayne huffs. “On the couch?”

Eddie’s wide eyes dart awkwardly. “What are you doing here?” he wonders breathlessly, still on top of you and still with his hand down your pants.

“Forgot my damn wallet.” Wayne keeps his gaze averted as he trudges to the tiny, square dining table by the window. He tucks the leather billfold into the pocket of his navy jumpsuit and promptly returns the way he came.

You and Eddie spare a wordless look of horror between you in the meanwhile.

“Do it in a bed next time, alright?” Wayne advises from the doorway with his back facing you. The rusted door creaks open and, just before it shuts behind him, you hear him shout. “And use protection!”

[anchoeritic]

teaching loser!ellie how to eat a girl out properly.

giggling as you watch from above, observing how slowly she was when it came to tugging down your shorts. her tongue swiping her bottom lip ever so slightly, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “a-am i doing this right?” you hear her stutter from below, pulling the fabric down your legs and put to rest beside the both of you. you could only bite your lip, the ache between your legs becoming increasingly unavoidable now.

“mhmm. you’re doing so good,” you praise her before tucking a fallen strand behind her ear, “c’mon, show me more.” she nods her head before continuing, turning back to taking the lead. her hands find themselves gripping onto your thighs softly, spreading them apart so her lips are able to trail kisses between. god, the heat was unbearable at this point. “keep going, baby.”

her kisses get closer and closer to where you needed her the most, so close that your hips begin to buck on their own, making ellie laugh under her breath. “i hope i’m doing good for you. only wanna please you,” she whispers, her mouth hovering over your heat. her breath is hot against you, fanning the very place that needed to be pleased. by ellie. “c-can i taste you yet? please, let me taste you.”

and you couldn’t turn her down. how could you?

[ratatoilett]

episode title : the one where she suggests marriage (again)

nylu's note : excited to make this a mundane cutesy series of they're shenanigans omg!

tags : @toniiiiiireads @cuntyji @nakiich @rriwyu @your-mum3000 @lulunx @heiejdhdh @oracle014 @sukubusss @noooo-onee @sanestsanstan @minasuniverse @muli-wam @bearchermer @younjunie @kunasthiast @nina-from-317

series masterlist

INT. SUKUNA'S APARTMENT - TUESDAY - 11:00 AM

at this point, sukuna has accepted that you are an unavoidable disaster in his life.

like an earthquake. or a tornado. or a really persistent telemarketer that keeps calling even when he explicitly tells them to stop.

he doesn't know when it happened. one day, you showed up. the next, you never left.

and the worst part? he let's you.

not without protest, of course. plenty of "get out before i throw you out," and "touch my stuff and you lose a hand," and "if you breathe near me while i'm eating, i will make sure you regret it."

none of which work.

because here you are, again, sitting on his couch, eating his chips, watching his TV—wearing his hoodie (at this point he doesn't even care how you got that in the first place).

you're kicked back, feet on the coffee table, and way too damn comfortable for someone who has been explicitly told to leave at least 500 times.

sukuna scowls.

"okay", you announce, popping another chip into your mouth. "new plan."

he doesn't even look up from his phone. "no."

"you didn't even hear it yet!"

"and yet, i already know it's gonna be fucking stupid."

you ignore him, as always. "hypothetically speaking, what if we got married?"

his head snaps up so fast you think he might've given himself whiplash.

"the hell did you just say?"

"i said—"

"i heard what you said," he growls, tossing his phone onto the coffee table. "the question is, why do you insist on making me suffer?"

you tilt your head, lips curling into a grin. "oh, so you admit the thought of being my husband affects you?"

"i admit that the thought makes me want to set myself on fire."

you hum, unbothered. "well, that's not a no."

sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose. "explain. now."

"well," you begin, dramatically tossing a chip into your mouth, "if we got married, i'd finally have a legal excuse to annoy you forever."

"you don't need a legal excuse. you're already doing it."

you ignore that. "plus, think about it! you, me, joint bank accounts—"

"absolutely fucking not."

"—matching outfits—"

"i will end you."

"—and cute little pet names! i'd call you 'suku-bear'."

sukuna glares. "i will throw you off my balcony."

"come on! you'd have cute nicknames for me too."

he smirks, and for a second, you think you might've won.

then—

"yeah. it's 'nuisance.'"

you gasp, pressing a hand to your chest. "how dare you? i was going to give you my last name, and this is how you treat me?"

sukuna levels you with a flat look. "you break into my apartment on a daily basis. you eat my food. you talk too much. you leave your crap everywhere. i should be charging you rent."

"that's actually a great idea! hypothetically speaking, what if i just moved in permanently?"

sukuna exhales so hard you think he might combust. "get. out."

"but i brought dinner," you chirps, holding up a takeout bag. "your favorite."

silence.

a long, long, long silence.

"fine. you can stay."

you grin in victory, setting the food down on the table. "that's what i thought."

sukuna rolls his eyes, snatching the takeout bag like you might change your mind and steal it back. "for the record, i still hate you."

"for the record, you love me," you counter plopping down beside him. "and someday, hypothetically speaking, you'll admit it."

sukuna doesn't respond, too busy stuffing food into his mouth.

but later, when he thinks you're not looking, you catch it—

the way his eyes linger on you, soft in a way they never are with anyone else.

the way his finger twitch, like he wants to pull you closer but refuses to give in.

the way his lips curl just slightly at your stupid jokes, even as he scowls at you.

the way, when you eventually fall asleep on his couch (again), he doesn't wake you up.

he just sighs.

long. heavy. defeated.

then he grabs the blanket off the back of the couch and tosses it over to you.

not gently, of course. that would be admitting things.

but he lingers. just for a second.

and when you mumble something in your sleep—something ridiculous, something about hypothetically marrying him—he just shakes his head.

because someday—someday—he's going to give in.

he already knows it.

and, damn you, so do you.

[maiiuelle]

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ᡣ𐭩 ⋆ ˚｡⋆

rafe got you a nintendo switch in hopes of keeping you occupied — not that he doesn’t like to spend time with you, it’s just that he’s a very busy man, and you need a distraction when he’s off handling business.

your cozy game addiction started with an innocent folder on his phone, and now rafe’s paying for your annual nintendo online membership. you have all the basics — mario kart, stardew valley, pokemon, and your favorite, animal crossing.

obsessed is an understatement — your manicured hands are glued to your baby pink nintendo switch at all hours of the day, hard at work on your animal crossing island. your intense focus on decorating keeps you from hearing rafe return home, his eyes skimming over where you’re laying over the arm of tannyhill’s leather couch.

“you’re still playing that goddamn game?” he sighs, squinting at you in disbelief that you’re not coming to hang off of him like you usually do. instead, he swaggers over to where you’re sitting with his hands in his sweatpants pockets.

“yeah, rafe. i have a lot to do.” you respond matter of factly, not bothering to take your eyes off the little screen. “i have to catch all these fish before next month, pay back my home loan, and decorate the campsite. and that’s just today, if i can get through it all.” you shake your head at the stress, but you shrug as if it’s unavoidable, still laser focused on planting flowers in the game. “i want my island to be pretty and nice for my villagers. i mean — if i don’t take care of it who will?”

you finally pause, lowering the switch to cover your mouth suddenly. “ew.. i sound like you.” you peer up at him looming over you, your head practically hanging off the side of the couch.

“wh—what?” he rears back, visibly offended. “i do not sound like that, okay — first of all.” he gestures to himself, poking at his chest through his preppy collared shirt. “‘n i don’t talk to fuckin’ cats all day, alright? i got real business — real shit i gotta take care of.” he smacks his hand, trying to drive home the point for you. then, like the realization had just hit him, he presses his lips into a line, tapping his temple. “y’know what? at least now maybe you can understand the stress i’m under runnin’ all this shit.”

you raise your eyebrows at him, his frustrated tirade only proving you right. “you’re right, you sound totally different.”

“aight, i’m done with you. seriously.” he throws his hands up, his short fuse slowly fizzling out. “you gonna put that away and gimme a kiss or not?”

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ᡣ𐭩 ⋆ ˚｡⋆

[maeumi-jng]

if looks could kill

pairing: enhypen x idol!gn!reader

synopsis: jealousy is a disease and he's caught it. or in which enhypen members try not to expose your entire relationship.

warnings: fluff, poor humour, skinship, mentions of falling, a variety of male idols mentioned, talks of insecurity, age-gap between another idol, proof read-ish?

library: enhypen bookshelf

heeseung

he's the oldest... he should manage himself. he's mature... he knows better...

but watching you with nct's jeno... heeseung had lost all sense of knowledge and rationality.

you were mcees with jeno back in 2018 to 2019 for sbs' the show. to say fans loved you together was an understatement. even heeseung had been watching you as a trainee, in awe of you and the chemistry you naturally created with everyone.

everyone and their mother was waiting for the news ,that you and jeno were dating, to break. whether it would be by dispatch or some other shady news report, or slip of the tongue... they were all sure and convinced you two were together.

sadly, you both had ended your mcing period together, only occasionally saying hi to each other at other events where you were both scheduled. but recently, the both of you had been reinstated as special mcees for music bank when the current hosts, lee chaemin and eunchae were attending their unavoidable schedules.

heeseung was happy at first that he could see you more considering the promotions for sweet venom had just started. you had been dating for almost a year but spending time with each other was harder than the both of you thought.

heeseung's happiness, however, soon died down when he stepped into that rather small cubicle. the cameras weren't rolling yet jeno and the stupid eye smile of his was beaming down at you. he literally could feel the fawning of the staff behind the cameras, all whispering to each other about the 'never ending' chemistry between you and jeno.

the entire interview was almost uncomfortable. you and jeno had put on your peppy and jubilant personalities for mcing, enthusiastically introducing and talking to enhypen. heeseung couldn't help but notice every time you said something, his eyes would flicker to jeno instead of you and spot the similar look of admiration he himself often sported.

heeseung could only bare tight-lipped smiles to jeno when he received questions, suppressing all his petty grimaces and curled lips of annoyance. it wasn't until he received jungwon's sharp glare and pointed look that he feigned a wider smile and responded with an unfamiliar chirp to his tone.

although heeseung was scolded heavily by jungwon afterwards, at the end of the day it didn't matter. because he had caused enough of a ruckus that fans had sensed his jealousy and ran along with it, making ships and creating dating rumours for you and him. in the end... it all worked out in his favour.

jongseong

whoever said jay is calm and collected needs to take a step back and do a bit of rethinking. he's not the leader... poor guy is panicking.

it started at the end of the korean festival kbs was hosting for select groups or artists that were popular and upcoming. you and your group were walking around in circles, thanking fans for their support, makings sure they were warm, and bidding goodbye. amongst all the confetti raining down on you, for some reason, one just had to get stuck under your heel, causing enough friction for you to begin your descent into falling. you would've ended up hitting your head if it wasn't for cravity's minhee behind you. the surprised idol had decent reflexes, catching you by your arms with his own hands.

for a moment, everyone in the room was quite shocked. your own members made sure you were okay. while assuring everyone you were fine, you profusely thanked minhee while simultaneously apologising even though it wasn't your fault in anyways... you were just so embarrassed. minhee was dismissive of the entire thing, just glad you were okay and nothing bad happened.

a minor interaction of sorts... but the repercussions were big. it had set netizens ablaze. news articles and gossip sites had been circulating. fans were looking back at old fancams to see your previous interactions, hoping you and minhee were indeed dating.

yeah jay wasn't happy. he didn't think anything of it initially. he was happy you were fine, similar to minhee, and thankful the idol was there to help you. but then he got the ship edits on his for you page. he blinked blankly and then clicked on the comments... oh boy.

they said you looked good with minhee? that you... 'suited' each other. or 'why haven't i thought of these two together before?' what the hell... the poor guy's literally looking at his screen with the most furrowed brows and dumbfounded face as a burning whirl begins to spark within him.

as dangerous as it was, jay would rather have his name circulating in your dating rumours rather than someone else that wasn't him. so he did just that. subtlety, of course.

jay wasn't necessarily the couple matching type of guy. he liked getting you things that were unique to you. but all of sudden, he was bombarding you with matching items... keychains, phone cases, bracelets, necklaces, even your damn socks.

safe to say, he had created a monstrosity that the hybe pr team was going to spend the next few weeks attempting to deny.

jaeyun

this one here... he can't bare it. jake is already so expressive and clingy (in a good way ofc). he feels a lot. therefore, he really really really likes you.

he won't lie. he's searched the both of your names up on twitter or naver far too many times just to see it trending. not to mention his secret tik tok account where he likes all of the ship edits and videos made for you two, even if they are terrible. more than once his pr team have thought of smacking some sense into him but it just seemed like jake was lovesick.

to be honest, the pr team was prepared to confirm news of you two dating. with the rate jake was going, he would've probably exposed it himself.

and the recent sbs gayodaejeon lost him.

you and yeonjun had a special stage together. he was slightly nervous already in the fact that you were performing together because he knew how fans got. but from the moment the performance started and he realised you guys were having a dancing stage... jake was left to become god's strongest soldier. yeah... no.

how on earth was jake supposed to know it was going to have this much skinship? jake loved shawn mendes but after today... he hated him. furthermore, he hated 'senorita' with a passion.

to make matter worse, the fans who were already going to be a bit delusional, were even more delusional. they were all fired up. "dispatch reveal, when?" "i would cry if yeonjun looked at me like that." "can't tell whether i want to be y/n or him..." "their chemistry... shit..."

his members were already worried for jake but their worry was becoming a constant state. all this jealousy was transferring into his work. jake was showing up to work every day, mind somewhere else, pouty and sulky, always reading the comments and influx of ship edits of you and yeonjun that had replaced his... the AUDACITY. not to mention, he was avoiding yeonjun like a plague. oh he's in the cafeteria? oops, bathroom time. backstage and talking to heeseung? well.

best believe the next few days he's stuck to you as if you were attached by the hip. jake's making it more obvious by the second and he couldn't care less. arm strung around your waist, hand in hand, pretending there was an eyelash on your face just to caress it, passing you his blazer at award shows to cover your legs or back.

quickly, any talk of you and yeonjun was gone and (rightly, according to jake), replaced by you and jake. he even made the mistake of going live, where the entire chat was filled with questions about whether you and jake were dating. someone said blink seven times if he was, so he blinked seven times afterwards. another said clap in a circle if he was, so he did.

yeah... a day later, belift and your company released a conjoined statement to confirm it. fans were mostly happy and also laughing at the fact that jake was so obviously jealous of yeonjun, who he now could look in the eye, knowing you were right by his side (not that yeonjun even cared. if anything, he probably found it funny as well).

sunghoon

sunghoon and jealousy... one could say it a good mix rather than a bad mix.

sunghoon was used to getting asked out often. not to brag, but have you seen him? it was a good looking guy. he understood it.

but you.. boy, you were on a whole another level. people were practically lining up for you. numbers on napkins accompanied by food or chocolate, straight up confessions or attempts for your number backstage, or even flowers under the pretence of congratulating you.

bold and brave, sunghoon thought. these people were bold and brave to be doing all of this. but he got it. in a way, he was proud. all these people... and you chose him. he mattered far more than you and only the both of you knew it. he cherished that. the secrecy of your relationship, while not ideal, meant keeping all the things he loved (you) all to himself with no one else intruding.

but all this secrecy didn't stop things from going a tad bit too far.

an actor and idol. park jihoon. the man wasn't a confession type of guy. at least not immediately. instead, he liked to court and flirt. and his choice? you.

you had both acted in a drama together recently. the chemistry between you two... well, it set everyone alive to say the least. even sunghoon was flustered... he couldn't tell if he hated jihoon or he wanted to replace jihoon and do all those scenes with you. both probably.

you were clearly paying your dues... being kind and nice to the actor even though the affection was very much one-sided. but either your kindness was leading him on or he couldn't take a hint because jihoon was not afraid of anything it seemed.

when asked his ideal type behind the scenes? you.

the purposeful double meaning type of comments that bordered more on corny rather than flirty? said.

the chance to hold your arm when you both took home the best couple award? taken.

the couple award struck sunghoon's last nerve. because one could excuse the arm thing as a basic manner moment. but the comment jihoon made. simple and quite common in the acting industry. yet said with every pure intention. "i would really like to work with y/n again." followed by the awes and gushing of fans and fellow actors while you painted a small smile and a soft laugh in response.

what. the. fuck.

are you serious? is he serious?

him and jay are the same. they want to be more obvious but in the least obvious way. instead of taking the matching items route, sunghoon needed to directly deal with jihoon. so every time you had a schedule with jihoon... mcing, award presenting, as nominees, etc, sunghoon pulled something new.

you're talking to jihoon about the wide praise you two were receiving for your work and suddenly, "oh, you left your phone at mine, here you go." sunghoon would put what was his phone into your hand and literally leave. and you're left there standing like ??? and jihoon is also like ???

this time you're sitting with the actor backstage and suddenly a water bottle dangles in front of your face. sunghoon is smiling at you, completely disregarding jihoon. "you like water, right? here." uh, sunghoon, sweetheart... everyone likes water. we kinda need it to live, babes.

by this point, you're now expecting sunghoon. eyes darting every second to get a glimpse of his growing hair and the smell of tamburins' wood salt beach perfume in the air to notify you of his presence. but he doesn't come. you're partly relieved but also sad. you were kinda of enjoying it. well, more like it was growing on you.

psych!

you and every other artist and actor is going around in circles, thanking the fans for coming tonight and what not. sunghoon is going for a strike. it's the evening, the temperature has cooled down and you're stylist has opted for a more summery outfit in this winter weather. you must be freezing is sunghoon's thought (you can't feel the cold considering the heat of a gazillion lights are on you but sure). ever the smooth man, sunghoon slides off of his blazer and puts it onto your shoulders, telling you to keep warm.

you were shocked.

jihoon was shocked.

everyone's shocked.

sure, sunghoon sacrificed a bit of your secrecy considering by the morning clips of the action were swarming every platform and every past fancam was being investigated, but the look on jihoon's face was absolutely worth it. and if he had to do it all over again just to see you smile warmly back at him and thank him, he would do it again in a heart beat.

seonwoo

sunoo is one of those people who wouldn't be that jealous. it's not that he wasn't insecure... he was human first and foremost. but he didn't really care for anyone else when it came to you. he only had eyes for you.

also he thought he was already obvious? like he's the one singing your song when they play through his headphones when the group plays the whisper game. or the first one to critique jake when he messes up the lyrics of your song during a live because he knows them off by heart. or the literal STACK of your albums (exclusive, limited, every version) he had in his dorm and his parents' house. there was literally more albums of your group then enhypen's that his parents had taken the responsibility of.

yet, that doesn't stop kim wooseok. well, not him specifically. the fans. you acted with him in the drama, the night has come. you weren't aware of your seven year age gap until your first meeting with him and he said he was like 27. and sunoo was like o_o. bc wdym your 27? he looked the same age as you... and he was playing an attractive teenager easily... wtf? unfair much???

while the age gap wasn't great, the romance wasn't heavily what your show was about anyways, which could make one feel lighter. despite all of that, sunoo had seen edit after edit after edit about you and wooseok. you and wooseok behind the scenes discussing your characters feelings towards each other, you and wooseok at a press conference bc he was making sure you were able to sit down in the small outfit your stylist gave you, you and wooseok in the water together

you and fucking wooseok.

sunoo was going to lose it. how much more obvious could he be?

how about matching couple items? well, the thing about sunoo is that he already has matching items. why wouldn't he? they were so cute!

sunoo also wasn't the type of person to directly combat it. he wasn't sunghoon.

he was mixture of jake, and well, himself. sunoo quickly got pouty and sulky as well. any time he heard that damn mafia alarm ring from your for you page, with feigned and overwhelming kindness, he gently took the phone from your hands and threw it onto the bed before folding his arms and looking at you blankly.

anytime a member brought up the drama on live and set of the chat to talk about you and wooseok, sunoo would immediately try to change the subject or he'd be a bit catty... "i just didn't know how old he was... he like so old." (fans began to notice how often this happened after bringing it up two or three times, resulting in the constant chatter of you and wooseok just to rile him up).

by end of the last episode, sunoo thought everyone would stop talking about the show. but no... you and the damn plot (which one? up to you) left everyone wanting more... especially of you and... yeah, he can't even say the name anymore.

the only way sunoo is getting over this, is by you comforting him. he isn't going to unnecessarily create rumours or try to leak your relationship. to be honest, the thought of it was terrifying. he hated involving himself in drama.

you end up spending the next few weeks almost sunoo-crazed. "oh sunoo recommended me this product..." forget matching bracelets, you brought him matching pyjamas. "oh, my dog? she's great. she doesn't really like people but she seems like sunoo the most. maybe more than me :("

soon, in a year or two, when the news breaks out of you two dating, this odd period of time will finally make sense.

jungwon

calm and collected? yes. why? he's the leader. said it before, but jungwon has the sole responsibility to be able to adjust to every situation there is.

an injured member? he's got it.

wardrobe malfunction? let's have a word with the stylist.

mic pack falling off mid-stage? man's got the word 'professional' in his dna.

if anyone asked him, truthfully, jungwon admired you. as a fan and as your boyfriend. you were similar to him. the same age, a young leader, good at basically everything... but you had three differences. one that your group might as well have invented the word popularity. second that you debuted earlier than him. lastly that you, yourself, created a new category of idols - super idols or super-dols.

what is a super-dol you ask? an all rounder that performs and executes everything with diligence and quality. they mean everything. not just the whole singing, rap, dancing combo. they mean the inclusion of acting, music production, song writing... etc.

they said that a person like you only comes once in a life time. they struggled to add people to your assigned 'category'.

to think jungwon was dating you was beyond him. how you liked him was equally beyond him. he thought he was just lucky. you thought otherwise. jungwon was everything to you. he understood you, he was always by your side and he was hard working. life was hard. but being with him made you feel like life in itself made sense.

jungwon knew that people wanted you. not romantically but as friends, as a mentor, as an advisor... it made sense for someone of your caliber. so he wasn't surprised when the newly debuted anton of riize was collaborating with you to produce a new song. but what he didn't expect was the genuine interest of the idol. nor did everyone else.

jungwon was backstage at the mbc gayodaejeon, watching your special stage with anton. it was the last day of the year and the last thing he wanted to do was end it on a bad note with something a fickle as jealousy. yet, the green-eyed monster had found him as he watched anton's gaze remain on you, as though he were unable to move, smiling ear to ear while you sang.

he heard one of his staff whisper to another, "they aren't dating right? gosh, they should date! he looks like he really likes her!"

jungwon could feel the cautious gazes of his members on him, trying dismiss such nonsense with frantic comments. "they don't know what they're talking about, jungwon." "ignore them." " he shook his head lightly, taking a deep breath. he needed to remain calm. if he couldn't, who would?

he trusted you with his entire heart. you liked him, there was no doubt in his mind. his heart skipped when he made you flustered with his sweet nothings and attention to detail. and to be frank, he understood anton. if the positions were swapped and he was in anton's place, he thought he would look at you the same way.

minutes after the clock struck twelve, jungwon didn't have to even look for you. you had found him instead, dragging him behind one of the trailers. you brought him into a long kiss, hugging him tightly.

jungwon smiled into this kiss, bringing you closer to him as all of his nonsensical worries melted away. parting almost breathlessly, his heart warmed at your wish of a happy new year. he smiled once again, placing a kiss the side of your head while he grabbed your hand, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. "happy new year, baby."

riki

riki was right on the precipice of youth and adulthood. he was only a year younger than jungwon but everyone always treated him with such fragility. not just because of his young age but the innocence that came with moving to a different country because of his said young age.

but riki was more mature than he looked. he had to be. it wasn't that he was alone. no. his members and friends would never ever make him feel like that. nor would you. but this type of maturity was required of him.

upon seeing p1h's soul or haku's eyes constantly travel back and forth to you as he interviewed your group, riki resolved to maintain stoic and pretend like he didn't care. you were in public, all eyes were on you. did it bug him that the person looking at you was the same age and also japanese? yes. but the nudge of jungwon and the thought of dealing with the staff was enough to make him stand down at the time. to be honest, if haku's whole thing ended after the interview, riki wouldn't of cared.

but it didn't.

riki was observing him throughout your performance (well as much as one could, he was still trying to watch you) and haku kept looking at you. like his eyes were moving with you as if he was only focused on you. but it was fine. riki could handle this... this was life... right?

haku, however, seemed to enjoy taking on every last nerve of riki's (unintentionally ofc, sorry haku 🥹). your group and enhypen were seated together backstage, all chatting and playing card games to waste some time before having to go back out. riki, ever the communication expert, already pointed the boy to you. "can't you just look away every time he looks at you?" he complained.

you raised a brow, placing down a card. "you want me to not meet his eyes in an interview? riki, i didn't peg you as the jealous type," you teased.

riki blankly looked at you. "i'm not," he said defensively, folding his arms. "i'm not jealous. i'm just being... absolutely reasonable."

"sure, sure..." you squinted your eyes, nodding sarcastically. "riki, just forget about it. you were probably hallucinating. he probably was just looking at me normally. honestly, you should rest more like i told you to."

riki wished you were right. that he was indeed hallucinating. but any maturity riki had been working on was already on a thin line and diminished as he saw haku walk up to your large group, greeting everyone but mostly you. heart eyes and all.

in the moment, it dawned on you that riki was in fact right. haku's finger twiddling, the brief pause before he spoke as if he was thinking about what to say only for him to still fumble over his words, the tinged ears... you had done the same thing to riki when he suddenly told you he liked you after being clingy for days on end.

well... shit.

you were quick to act.

no one spoke as much japanese as the yearly comebacks warranted. at least that's what you figured when you greeted him back in japanese, introducing riki to him as another japanese idol he could be friends with and the best part, as your boyfriend.

the corners of riki's mouth couldn't help but twitch up. to say he was belated was an understatement. he dipped his head a little, a wide smile now sprawled all over his face.

the visible disappointment on haku's face made your heart ache slightly. you felt terrible. maybe you should've let him down less... directly. but the obvious happiness riki was radiating off of him made you want to smack some sense into him.

by the end of your schedule, you had hesitantly accepted riki's offer for you to sleep over at the dorm because you had no idea why but regret felt like it was looming over you. and boy was it. the entire way back home, riki teased you the entire time.

"say it again. say that i'm your boyfriend again! why not? too shy? you weren't shy then.. you said it so confidently like..."

the teasing only ended when you ignored him for the rest of the ride and riki realised he had fallen victim to the silent game. he was a fan of silence. but this was not the one he enjoyed.

cutting back on the teasing, riki just relished the fact you were asleep in his arms and not anyone else's. you were with him and that's all that mattered. ♡︎

© maeumi-jng | do not copy, post (repost is fine!) or translate anywhere else! thank you ♡︎ requests here!

[pathologicalreid]

spring into summer | s.r.

in which Spencer pursues a relationship with you. you try to resist every advance - for your own protection.

[previously] | [next]

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angsty content warnings: blowing smoke part tew, at a bar but it's not specified whether or not reader drinks alcohol, kissing, if you have a problem with my bar music keep it to yourself, maeve as a plot device, love confessions, not edited word count: 2.25k a/n: y'all i wasn't gonna do this, but listening to this song... yeah i had to.

“Spencer’s here!” Penelope exclaimed from her bar stool, her heels clicking on her way to the front of the bar, hoping to lead Spencer through the crowd to where the team had decided to set up shop.

Your head snapped up in alarm, tilting your head to the side and trying to get JJ’s attention, “I didn’t think Spencer was coming out tonight.”

She frowned slightly, placing her glass on the bar and shrugging, “It was an open invite.”

An open invite that you extended to the guy you’re seeing. You huffed, pulling the strap of your dress back over your shoulder and flagging down the bartender, hoping to get a drink before you need to play defense against Spencer.

“Hey,” Ethan said from behind you, a cute guy from counterterrorism that Penelope had introduced you to. His hand sat comfortably on your waist as you got the bartender’s attention again, letting him know that you’d actually need two drinks.

You smiled back at him, panicking slightly when he leaned in to kiss you. Evading his kiss, you let his lips land on your cheek, turning your head so that you were facing Spencer.

The two of you had as little contact as you could manage in the past two months, ever since Spencer’s attempt to ask you out had gone completely awry. Of course, ceasing all contact was unavoidable, between work and Spencer’s continued pursuance, you continuously found yourself under his net.

Ethan squeezed your waist gently, taking the glass that the bartender had placed in front of him and grabbing a straw for yours. You thanked him, crushing the straw wrapper against the bar and taking a sip.

Admittedly, you weren’t interested in the guy in the slightest. The second time you went out together, he’d gotten your name wrong, but he was friends with Penelope’s crush, so you were trying to be a good sport.

It felt like the world was playing a cruel joke on you, pairing you with someone who couldn’t be bothered to remember your name while you were trying to shut out a guy who remembered your favorite flower from a conversation three years ago. Yesterday, you’d found a bouquet on your desk for the third Thursday in a row.

Every time you read the card that he sends with the arrangement, you almost forget yourself. It would be a waste for you to get rid of them, which is the only reason you’ve kept them on your desk.

Or so you keep telling yourself.

“You look nice,” Spencer whispered to you, reaching between you and JJ so he could grab his drink from the bar. He looked good, you noticed him against your better judgment, even the embroidery on his tie managed to catch your attention.

Before you could collect yourself enough to respond to him, Morgan had already pulled him back to a booth, putting an arm around his shoulders and pointing out different girls in the bar while Savannah rolled her eyes. His hair was growing out from the undercut that he’d debuted in the fall, falling in front of his eyes until he inevitably flicked the stray hairs away.

Peeling your eyes off of him, you looked back at Ethan, who’d already made his way through half his drink. His eyes were glued to the baseball game being displayed above the bar. If your date had noticed you ogling your coworker, he didn’t show it.

Tentatively, you tapped his stool gently with your toe, “Hey,” you tried to get his attention, batting your eyelashes. “Do you wanna go over to the jukebox with me? We can pick a song together,” you offered.

He frowned and shook his head, “Nah, the Nationals game is on.” He nodded his head up to the TV, refraining from sparing you a glance.

You looked up at the screen, they were at the bottom of the second inning, and you were in for an exhausting night. “Right,” you said flatly, “I’ll be right back.”

Sharing a look with Penelope, who shot you a supportive thumbs up from the other side of the bar, you got off your stool and adjusted your purse over your shoulder. You liked that this bar still had a real jukebox, as opposed to the updated touchscreens commonly found in bars nowadays. You dug through your purse for a quarter, half paying attention to your rummaging and using the rest of your brain power to study the available songs.

A few things caught your eye, most of the available tracks were classics—Journey, Queen, and a Meatloaf track that was suspiciously out of order. Probably because the song was over eight minutes long. “Here,” the familiar voice—that you’d been trying to avoid—spoke.

Spencer held a quarter out for you, leaving the coin displayed in his palm until you graciously accepted it. “Thanks,” you said, “Do you have any suggestions?” You expertly dodged his attempt at eye contact, sliding the quarter into its slot and reading through the titles again. Pressing your lips in a thin line while you ignored the way he was leaning over the jukebox.

“Why did you ask him to come out?” He asked, pointing at one of the songs and chuckling when you shook your head. He should’ve known better than to actually make a request. After all, you were just being polite.

You squinted at a title, worn with time, and you distracted yourself with the task of reading it. “I didn’t know you were coming with us,” you muttered, refusing to let your curiosity get the better of you and resisting the urge to just select the worn button. “You don’t usually like this bar,” you reminded him. You couldn’t remember the last time Spencer went out to a bar that wasn’t O’Keefe’s.

He hummed next to you, standing so close that you could feel his body heat intermingling with your own. “So,” he started, “You wouldn’t have asked him to go out if you had known I was going to be here.”

“I didn’t say that,” you told him, your eyes flickering to the side. Not enough to see his face, but enough to notice that he’d taken off his suit jacket, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

“You might as well have,” he returned, watching as you finally chose a Fleetwood Mac song, concluding that you’d either have to choose a song you didn’t want or waste Spencer’s quarter.

You peeked around him, your date still preoccupied with the sporting event. Even so, you tried to make your way around Spencer, but he grabbed your elbow and held you back.

There was nothing forceful in his action. If you wanted to snatch your arm away and stalk away from him, he wasn’t going to stop you, but you found yourself interested in staying with him. It would be worth your while to stay with someone who was begging for your attention rather than return to the bar to beg for someone else’s.

Spencer looked around, mindful of the members of your team who were still in earshot while he led you away from the crowds. He tucked you away, resting your back against a shiplap wall in a corner, perfectly concealed from curious profilers. “I want to talk to you,” he whispered, leaning against the wall.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest in preemptive defense, making sure he stayed at least a foot away from you. “I’ve said everything there is to say to you,” you made no effort to avert his gaze, no attempt to duck away from the conversation.

“I haven’t,” he responded immediately, his voice steady despite the noticeable pounding of his carotid. It was almost as if he’d practiced this speech before, going through every permutation of the conversation in his mirror before meeting you out.

Raising your eyebrows, you looked up at him; the sun was setting, the orange light reflecting in his brown irises while he studied you like it was the last time he’d ever see you. “Spence,” you breathed, waiting expectantly for him to continue.

“You never actively pursued me, how was I meant to know you were interested?” His question made you want to scoff, but the earnest look in his eyes gave you pause. “Admittedly, social cues aren’t my strong suit, and I know you know that.”

Your shoulders relaxed, “So, because I never actively pursued you, it’s my fault that we never ended up together? Was I supposed to declare my intentions to you?”

He shook his head, sending strands of wavy brown hair tumbling in front of his forehead. In another life, you would’ve reached out to fix his hair. “No, I’m saying that while you never actively pursued me, I am actively pursuing you. I just want to make sure you know what page I’m on,” he told you, nervously picking at his nails.

“Spencer,” you sighed his name, “I already told you I couldn’t do it.” You’d cried it to him, actually. You expected this conversation to be more of the same, pleading with Spencer to understand your perspective on the situation while he relentlessly begged you to reconsider.

Reaching out, he touched your arm gently, nothing more than a graze of his fingertips across your bare skin, “And I want to prove to you that we can do this. I can be the guy that you want.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to push yourself further into the wall until you phased right through it, “I can’t take the back and forth.” You needed something stable, but what you needed would never be reflective of what you wanted. The most brutal truth of all was that you still wanted Spencer. You considered him your first love, and no one ever gets over their first love.

Just like he’d never get over his.

“There are just too many years between us, Spencer. It’s too complicated,” you told him, trying to keep your breathing steady. It would be exhausting to explain your tearful look to the rest of the team.

He waved your reasoning away, “It’s not. It’s not complicated. I love you and you love me. So, why can’t we be together?”

Your lips parted, staring up at him with wide eyes as your brain frantically tried to catch up with the situation at hand. Each beat of your heart was like a repetition of the word—love, love, love.

Spencer took your silence for rejection, “Maybe it’s just me then.”

“It’s not,” you croaked, fear and love and sorrow causing your throat to strangle your words. You looked up at him and wondered how long he’d been sitting on that confession. You wondered how long he’d known you loved him. You wondered if he still dreamed about Maeve. For whatever reason, that’s the only curiosity that you voiced, “Do you still dream about her?”

“I only dream about you these days,” he answered, his voice soft in the cacophony of the bar, keeping the conversation private despite your public stage.

“You can’t mean that,” you murmured, your face warming in response to his confession.

Your response only seemed to encourage him further, leaning his head down to allow himself contact. He pressed his lips to yours gently, and you found yourself leaning into him more than you’d like, each movement of his lips reminiscent of a chisel against the wall that you had constructed between the two of you.

Reaching your arms up, you propped one over his shoulder and used your free hand to weave your fingers in his hair—just as silky as you had always imagined it would be. His lips were soft against yours, and you knew you were fighting a battle that you could never win. You’d always run back to him.

Even when you pried yourself away from him, there wasn’t an ounce of regret in your bloodstream, but there was an outpour of sorrow. “Spence,” you breathed, blinking tears from your eyes while he pressed his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry,” he responded, “I shouldn’t have done that.” His tone didn’t reflect his words in the slightest, there was no remorse in his eyes when you met them for the first time in a new light.

You shook your head instantly, “It’s okay.” You understood why he had done it. Telling you he loved you. Kissing you. He hadn’t done either of those things with Maeve. Spencer was trying to make a statement with you; he wanted his actions to speak louder than words.

He frowned, “You’re crying. I’m so sorry.”

Your lips parted to respond, but you hesitated for a moment. Curiosity was rapping at your door, wanting to know if the last person he had kissed was Diane. “I’m not crying because I didn’t want you to kiss me,” you admitted, hoping that your candor would serve to bring him some comfort.

“Oh,” he breathed, “Oh.”

You nodded, confirming his suspicions, “But I meant it when I told you I can’t do this. I just… not right now.” You needed time to come to terms with the fact that the love you never expected was right around the corner, and you needed time so that Maeve wasn’t the first person you thought over after kissing him.

“Okay,” he said, taking a small step away from you, “But you… you’ll let me know?”

Your head bobbed, “I’ll let you know.”

"I love you and I always will and I am sorry. What a useless word." - Ernest Hemingway

[f1orza]

Lucky girl

Charles leclerc x fem!reader

Summarry: Where a tifosi's sister has good luck, so he tries to set his favorite (unlucky) driver and his only (very lucky) sister, up together for joint a slay (good luck)

Face claim: threemillion on insta

This has been sitting in my drafts for a while so I thought I'd finally release it, ignore any spelling or timestamps

yourusername

4219 likes

yourusername brother asked me to wear Ferrari and for good luck 🍀, so forza Ferrari ig 🏎

Bestfriend1 not y/b/n finally getting you 😭

youusername at this point it was unavoidable 🙄

y/b/username sorry lucky but we needed some of that good luck 😘

Username2 hoping this actually works and we see charles on a podium today 🙏🏻

Y/b/username Why are there so many tifosi in your comments thirsting and zip up weirdo 🤢

yourusername ??? You brought them here tho 🤨 and no it's my page hope that helps 🤗

Friend2 Ferrari red looks good on you lucky ❤

yourusername thank you babe 🥰

Username63 why does everyone call you lucky? Btw you're gorgeous ❤

yourusername hi, it's a childhood nickname I got as everyone always said I was just lucky and thank you, you are so beautiful as well love 😊🫶

Username74 why do I lowkey ship her with Charles 🤭

Username75 you don't even know either of them and they never even met ???

Friend3 watch y/b/n be right and he actually gets on the podium 🤣

Username7 at this point we'll take anything for a podium so 🤞

yourusername

7616 likes

yourusername ragazza fortunata 💋 lucky girl

y/b/username thanks for wearing the shirt now you have to go to a grand prix with me please 🙏🏻

scuderiaferrari how about seeing us in the down under ? 😉

y/b/username really?!?! Yes please we'd love too

scuderiaferrari we will dm you guys, we need our ragazza fortunata lucky girl there with us

Liked by the creator

Username1 thank you lucky 🫶

Bestfriend1 our lucky girl🍀

Friend1 you just got invited to a grand prix by Ferrari??

Friend2 told you looked good in Ferrari red 🤭

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Username2 LUCKY IN THE PADDOCK, WE REALLY ARE GETTING A FERRARI P1-2

Username3 tifosi's we might have actually done it 😭

Username45 silly season is OVER! Thank you lucky 🫶

Username5 luck and y/b/n in the paddock can you imagine them meeting charles and carlos, I'm excited

scuderiaferrari thank you lucky 🫶

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Username16 y/n is so beautiful, it's actually insane

Username37 I'm in love with everything about you ❤

Username8 sai parlare italiano? can you speak Italian?

youusername sì, parlo italiano, inglese e spagnolo. Yes, I speak Italian, English, and Spanish.

Y/b/username • stories

Username10 the fit is nice y/b/n!

y/b/username Thanks ❤

Scuderiaferrari happy to have you both here 💪🏼

y/b/username Thank you for inviting us 🫶

Friend1 have fun bro 🏎

Username23 FORZA FERRARI ❤

yourusername • stories

Bestfriend1 have fun lucky girl, get Lando's number for me 🙏🏻

yourusername Will NOT be doing that, love you tho 🫶

Bestfriend1 boo you whore, love you too

y/b/username thank you for real y/n, I appreciate you doing this for me, I love you ❤

yourusername aw y/b/n, I love you too, which is why I'm happy to be sharing my "good luck" with your favorite thing ❤

Username4 thank you lucky, hope you have a good time

yourusername Thank you 😊

Username7 a ladybug !!! You really are lucky

Username16 🐞 🍀

Username29 I love your outfit